#good god I’m so sorry to the poor soul who’s trying to go through the ‘dsmp ranboo’ tag and sees hazbin hotel

[moraent-keys]

The amount of shit I will shove onto one canvas and then try to post the pictures as if they’re separate is ridiculous

[cabinofimagines]

A Much Needed Declaration

Who doesn't love our goat boy! I suppose I should say spoilers for those who haven't read the books on this one- as it is based sometime after Battle of the Labyrinth :) Pairing: Grover Underwood x gn!reader Request: Hi guys! I hope you guys are doing good. Can I request a Grover x reader where reader is trying to tell him they like him, but they keep getting interrupted by people needing him for things and viceversa? And then finally getting to tell him? Just some cute fluff with a happy ending lol. M!reader or gn!reader are fine! Thanks :) Word count: 1.1k Warnings: None! -Asnyox

The first time you met Grover, the only thought you had through his stammered introduction was ‘he’s pretty cute’. It took a lot longer for you to find out that at some point ‘he’s cute’ grew into a crush on the kind satyr. But, you accepted that it was what it was, and maybe it would be something more at some point- but for now it was enough.

However, that was before he became a Lord of the Wild, which meant that he needed to do a lot more work around and outside of camp. At least you were allowed to go with him on his travels sometimes, but you spend less and less time with him. You didn’t blame him, but you missed him and felt him slipping away from you. Thus you decided you needed to tell him how you felt before it was too late.  

You had yet to anticipate how hard it would be to get a moment alone with him. The first time you stumbled upon your friend, you didn’t get past “how are you-” before he quickly told you he had to get going or he would be late. Late for what only the gods know, but he slipped away. 

The second attempt was slightly more successful- Grover was sitting at the campfire, and you sat down next to him. 

“Busy week, huh?” you asked and Grover’s head shot up.

“Ah, (Y/n), I hadn’t seen you come-” Grover bleated, “I’m sorry, it has been busy.” 

“Finally catching a break?” You asked, as you bumped into him lightly. Grover smiled and started leaning against you. 

“Sort of, I’ve missed you.” he said as he laid his head on your shoulder. His horns had started growing out more, and you could feel them poke in your neck, but you decided not to say anything, lest you scare the poor soul. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you let out a breath, “Hey, I need to tell you some-” 

“Hey, G-man, do you have a moment?” Percy spoke up from beside Grover, and you glared slightly at him as Grover sat up. 

“Of course! Whatcha need?” Grover sat, and Percy gestured away.

“Just wanted to check something, am I interrupting?” Percy asked. Grover looked at you, in turn. He clearly wanted to see if you needed him, but you shook your head. 

“No, not really. Go ahead, I will see you soon?” you asked Grover and he nodded excitedly as he stood up and followed Percy. 

Well, third time's the charm you thought as you saw your beloved goat boy stand not too far away. So, you almost sprinted towards him, smiling. 

“Hey Grover! Do you have a moment-” Grover looked at you, but you could already see Chiron approaching him from behind. 

“Of course I do, always for you.” he was adorable, but you shook your head, as you eyed Chiron getting closer. 

“I don’t think you do- you know what, never mind.” you pouted, “Wish I wouldn’t have to make a reservation for your time just to talk to you, but it is what it is.” Grover looked confused, but you continued, “Just come to me when you have five minutes? Me approaching you is clearly not working out.” Grover was worried about what you meant, but before he could even ask what was going on you turned around and walked away. And before he could even reach out, Chiron’s voice asked for his attention. 

Third time was not the charm it seemed. 

Grover hadn’t seen you since then. Apparently you truly wouldn’t come to him whenever he had a moment- which normally you really had a knack for finding him just as he had nothing to do. He really hoped you weren’t angry at him- and he felt like he was irrationally anxious about the possibility of you never wanting to talk to him again. That couldn’t be it right? 

So, a few days later when he hadn’t planned anything for at least an hour- a feat as far has his schedule went these days- he quickly ran to you, took your hand and dragged you away from your cabin, into the woods. 

“What-” you stammered, but Grover was quick to turn around and face you. 

“I have not much time but I asked the dryads to make sure no one finds us for a bit. It’s just us, no interruptions, nothing,” Grover wished he had a can to chew on and get his anxious energy out, “So, what do you need?” he asked, his voice turning soft and quiet at the last words in the sentence. Before answering you grabbed one of Grovers hands, an appreciative smile on your face.

“Grover, I need you,” you took a deep breath, “I need you too, I know you’re busy being lord of the wild and that it’s hard staying still but please, I need you to know I love you.” 

Grover bleated, as he hid his face behind the hand you weren’t holding. “Do you mean-” Grover slowly lowered his hand, and he saw you nod. “I love you, romantically, goat boy.” Your heart stammered, “and if you’re not ready- or not interested, it’s fine. I’m just glad to have told you.” 

“I’m too- uh I mean,” Grover shook his head, “I love you too,” You smiled, and you moved closer pressing a kiss on Grover’s cheek. “You’re all I need then,” you sighed, “now go, I know you promised the dryads something. See you at dinner?” 

Grover had a dazed expression, with a big grin on his face as he nodded. “See you, love you,” he turned around, hoping that he could quickly finish the requests he still had to do today, so he could spend time with you. 

And if Grover dazed off a bit more during that day, nobody asked questions. Grover realized that he needed you too, and that he perhaps needed a bit of a break. A picnic sounded nice, or going to that one secluded spot that he found while he was doing favors for a herd of sheep last week. Yeah, he was elated thinking of you smiling, surrounded by nature, and him being the reason for it. Would you enjoy berries or bread more at the picnic?

[igotanidea]

Glimmer: Jason Todd x reader

request: Jason Todd x fem!reader who is optimistic, sees good in people and gives him hugs and kisses when he comes from patrol.

****

She never knew it, and even if she did she would totally refuse to believe it, but there was something in her eyes that always made Jason feel better about world and about himself. A bit.

He met Y/N on one of his night patrols and not-so-surprisingly rescued her from a mugger. Typical Gotham occurrence, but unlike any other citizen of this god-forsaken city she did not seem shaken or terrified or even sad.

“How are you so fine with what happened?” instead of taking off the second the robber was dealt with Jason found himself captured by her unusual behavior

“I’m not” she sighed deeply and her e/c orbs focused on him, making him shake inside due to the intensity of the gaze “I’m not all right with how Gotham affects people. That the poor had to go to the great lengths to survive on the streets while crime lords have everything. I’m not fine with the fact that kids here suffer because their parents abandoned them. I hate that GCPD seem helpless when it comes to dealing with all this shit and vigilantes have to take matters in their own hands.”

“So, pretty much you hate Batman?” Jason scoffed, trying to act casually, not showing how touched he was by the mention of kids on the streets. After all, he was one of them many years ago and the memory of what he went through was still hunting him sometimes.

“I never said that!” she laughed. She laughed a few seconds after a traumatic events. “I admire everything he does. But unlike our fierce protector, I’d rather focus on seeing good in people.”

“Good?” Jason scoffed, his helmet muffling the sound a bit “There’s nothing good in this shithole.”

‘Maybe that is your problem, Red. Your aim is to get rid of the crime lords. Arguably by killing them all off….”

“I don’t do that anymore.” He chimed in

“Then hurting them. Injuring them. Making them remember the pain. I’d rather spread the good emotions. Like in the homeless shelter where I volunteer after work. Or at the child center. You should see the smile on those people faces just because you gave them ten minutes of your time. To talk, to actually ask them how they feel, if there’s anything they would like to do. Elders have so many to say, yet no one ever listens. And children, those poor little souls, who did nothing wrong in their life, except for what’s necessary to survive. A hug or a joke is enough to make them cry happy tears.”

“You’re being awfully optimistic, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help being who I am” she smiled so bright, Jason could swear that it lighted up the whole alley “you should try that sometimes, Red Hood. Anyway, sorry for keeping you this long, bet you have another parts of the city to patrol.” Once again her beaming, hopeful, sincere eyes landed on his face (or rather helmet) “thank you for helping me. I know you do not see yourself this way, but what you do matters. The method may be a bit extreme, but still, I appreciate what you did. What you do.”

“I……” Jason stuttered. It was the first time someone actually said something like that to him. Was he really good in her eyes?

“I gotta go.” She shook he head, hair falling all over her face and Jason had to use all his strength to fight the urge to brush those strands of. There was something about this girl…. ”Stay safe, Hood, will you?” she turned around and started walking away, but he called after her, making her stop.

“Can I get your name?!”

“Wonder why that matters to you.” she laughed, but decided in favor of answering “It’s Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”  with a single wave of the hand she was gone, leaving Jason wondering and muttering that single word over and over again.

***

“Hey, Drake. I got a favor to ask.”

“And out of all the people in the world you came to me?” Tim raised an eyebrow “You must be truly desperate, Todd.”

“I can always go and ask Barbara. Bet she’ll deal with the search I need much faster than you. She’s an expert after all.” Jason smirked knowing well enough how the reverse psychology affected Tim.

“Better!? No way!! What do you need?” the younger boy spun around on the chair, now facing the bat computer, fingers hanging over the keyboard, twitching in anticipation.

“I want to find a person. I only got a name, Y/N, possible living location and I know she works at the homeless shelter and kid center. Can you target her?”

“don’t know.” Tim tapped his chin, wondering “Is he a Red Hood’s object of interest or Jason Todd’s one?”

Fuck. There was no good answer to that question and Jason found himself falling right into Tim’s trap. 

“Let’s say a little bit of both.”

“Whatever you say……”

***

Tim was faster than Jason anticipated and with just a few clicks and searches he managed to locate the girl. And just a few minutes later, after breaking some speed limits (Bruce would pay for the tickets obviously) Todd was in front of the building she was spending her evening at.

It’s been a while since Jason seen so many hurt and scared people in one place and that reminded him how much crime actually was in Gotham. He was fighting some part of it, but the rest…. Damn it. The view was just painful. Starting from a few-years old, ending up on the elders, every age group has a representation in this place. And amongst all those citizens he saw Y/N. With messy hair and a smudge of something that seemed like a paint, but was awfully similar to blood she was telling a story to a bunch of kids, one of them placed on her knees. That little dirt on her cheek made Jason shudder. In the depths of his mind he already saw her injured, bleeding in some alley, after being attacked or raped, her optimistic attitude not serving as a shield.  But apparently her positive attitude was not a result of obliviousness and being raised in separation from the bad aspects of life, but rather the opposite. She experienced the sadness and pain everyday while working with those people and yet, remained cheerful. That was….. strangely alluring.

“Hey there.” She put the kid down, noticing him standing in the aisle, looking confused “Are you lost? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” she was so tiny in comparison with a tank Jason was and she wanted to help him. Not even expecting anything in return.  

“No…. I ……”

“Hey, it’s ok.” she reassured, putting a hand on his shoulder and he immediately felt the warmth coming all over his body. “You’re safe here. We can give you any aid you need.”

“I don’t need help. “ Jason shook his head.

“You sure?” she tilted her head “Cause it seems to me like you got a strained muscles, a bruise on the jaw and some cuts on the forearms.”

“You are quite observant, aren’t you?”

“Did my time as a doctor assistant.” She shrugged “never get to finish though”

“Why?”

“Um… you know, typical Gotham stuff. Parents getting shot. No one to help me pay for college…. I had to tend for myself and that required a full time job, not just studying. So I dropped. Became an assistant nurse instead. Shitty job, shitty pay, shitty work hours, but  get to make ends meet.”

“And you still find time to volunteer?”

“Like I said to someone before, I’d rather help people by spreading good. Seriously, can I help you with anything…..?”her voice hanged a bit and it took him a while before realizing she was waiting for hi name.

“I’m Jason. And I …. I think I want to be a volunteer as well.”

***

It’s been three years since then.

Three years in which she was constantly surprising him with her attitude, her smile, her uptake on things.

Three years of her being his rock, getting him through the shittiest, lowest day, never letting him give up or his darkness and shadow consume him. She was his ray of sun on those days when he had no power to push through.

Jason was not the first person to trust people, but somehow she managed to gain it quite quickly. After a few months of acquaintance, shaking because of the emotions (mostly fear) he told her about his alter ego, awaiting abandonment, terrified, judgmental gaze and her leaving him for good.

There was a moment of silence after his confession, two young adults just sitting on the couch opposite of each other. Jason looking down, silent begging for her to not leave him, missing the fact that Y/N’s signature honest gaze were focused on him.

“Jason….” she said quietly, careful not to startle him “Jace, please look at me.” The boy hesitantly raised his head, scared what he might see on the girl’s face “did you think I would leave you?”

“Yes.” He blurted not able to control himself anymore.

“You silly boy.” She leaned forward slightly, reaching for his cheek, not touching yet, since she learned how hard physical contact was for him “Can I?”

“Please….” He mumbled, and once she cupped his face, immediately leaned into the touch. So touch starved, so desperate for her, without even realizing this.

“Listen to me, Jason Todd. I am not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.” she whispered “I’m honestly a bit offended you could even think something like that. Do you even know me?”

“I know you see good in place where there is none. And I’m no good. I’m bad news, always have been and….”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” She hissed and not giving a shit about being gentle put her lips on his, the urge being just too strong to hold it anymore. “Sorry….” Just a few seconds later she realized what she did and pulled back, her face turning apologetic. “I didn’t mean to push….”

“Come back here” Jason breathed out, wrapping an arm around her waist and claiming her lips again, this time fully. God, he never knew how much he craved her and how much fear of rejection on her part he had.  “I need you.” he whispered pulling her flush to him “God, I shouldn’t  but I need you so bad.”

“Good thing it’s mutual.” She smiled, brushing a curl from his face and connecting their foreheads

“But….” He tried to say.

“if you start talking about that shit about darkness and everything else I won’t kiss you for a week.”

“Are you threatening the Red Hood, princess?”

“Guess, I am” she laughed, realizing that little fact “is it working?”

“Sure as hell it is.” Jason gasped before closing the gap between them.

***

Y/N was quickly accepted into the Wayne family, turning into a valuable member of the team. And damn, she was good at working with Oracle from the cave. But the most important part of her job (in her own words) was still giving the good vibes. Keeping the batboys (and batgirls) up and running, showing them how much good they were doing and how grateful people were for that.

Jason needed it more than anyone else, still doubting himself and dealing with past trauma, not that anyone blamed him for that. If nothing else, dying and resurrecting definitely have an effect on one’s mentality. And that was precisely why, Y/N would always stay up in the night, waiting for Jay to come back from the patrol to welcome him in the most caring and loving way she could.

“Jace!” she jumped off the couch as soon as she heard him walk thought the door, his helmet and jacket already discarded on the floor. She practically jumped into his arms, wrapping legs and arms around him, tugging her boyfriend tightly, feeling his muscles relax under her touches and caresses.

“Hi, baby….” He sighed deeply feeling her in his arms. The only person that made everything he did worth the effort.

“My hero.” She tugged him even tighter, hands tangling in his hair massaging gently.

“Hero? That’s funny princess. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Grayson? Do you wish that it was someone else in your arms?”

“What are you…..?” she pulled back from him slightly, but his arms kept her in place, familiar smirk forming on his face. “You are incorrigible Todd! Why are you constantly playing with me?”

“Cause you look cute with that surprised Pikachu face” he kissed the top of her nose and she pouted.

“Stop it! It’s my job to kiss you and hug you. You’re tired and hurt. Let me take care of you.” her hand travelled down from his neck and rested on his heart “Please, love. I just want to take all the pain from you. Let me, Jason.” she was practically begging him now, and the fact that he truly had someone who was willing to do that for him was making him melt. Since the words failed him, he just nodded, closing his eyes not to show any vulnerability. Almost three years of being together and it was still hard for him to show her his emotional side. “Open those eyes” she commanded, once he put her back on the floor and they just stood in place. “I love you, Jason.” Y/N said with fully convinced voice “whatever you think about yourself, you are a hero to me.” a little kiss on his forehead “A protector.” Kiss on his nose “a fighter” one on each of his cheeks “I can never see you differently” a peck on his lips, too short, leaving him wanting more and chasing her lips “but it’s me. You don’t need to act strong with me when you are tired. You don’t need to hide your emotions. You could never be too vulnerable for me. I accept and somewhat understand Red hood, but it’s Jason Todd I fell in love with. My Jason. The emotional one. All right, baby?’ she caressed his cheek, grabbing his hand and leading him backwards towards the bed “will you rest with me?”

“Yes.” He whispered “Please……”

“All right.” She helped him lay down and once he rested head on her chest, feeling her fingers play with his hair, the other hand caressing her back, Jason slowly let the tension and the burden of opinion, judgments and expectations go.

She was making him feel better about himself.

She was making him feel better about world.

And maybe it was wrong and selfish and careless, but he loved her.

And he was going to tell her that.

Soon.  

[daydream-believin]

That Was Hot But Maybe Don't Make A Habit Of Doing That Babe

warnings: well. assault. transphobia. some of my more. uh. salacious work. never proof read.

word count like barely over 1k.

---

“Aren’t you afraid? Out here insinuating that God made a mistake.”

You clutched your red solo cup a little closer to you, trying your best to ignore this acquaintance who thought she had a right to corner you in this living room and tell you what she thought about your sinful lifestyle. Because that’s what you come to house parties for, to give other guests unsolicited advice on their mortal soul. You took a deep breath, schooling your expression as Jessica prattled on.

“Your body is a temple, you know. You can’t just do whatever you want with it. It’s sacred.”

You stared at her thick eyeliner, wondering if she used a stencil or something to get the wing that smooth. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a “messy bun” and a quick glance at her feet proved she was wearing white converse. So, a woman who’s bitter about having never been sold to one direction for gambling money, it looks like. You’d never seen her outside of a professional setting, so this was a curious insight on her personality, if the glaring red flag of this entire conversation wasn’t that already.

“Is that so,” you said in the bored-est tone you could muster.

“It’s a shame, really. You could’ve been a good wife and had a family like God intended, but no man will ever want you until you quit it with this. Such a waste.”

Ah, and there’s the reminder that she doesn’t see you as anything more than your uterus. Jessica swept her eyes over your form, so tight to the wall you were up against that you might have to unstick yourself from the wallpaper after this. You watched her as the look of disgust graced her features. The other people at the party may as well have been shadows, just you and the she-wolf here in this moment.

“And you’re not fooling anyone, hon,” she snorted, “Honestly, anyone can see you’re just a woman who really let herself go.”

“Excuse me?” you said through gritted teeth.

She grinned like a shark, “I said I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve only gotten fatter and uglier since this whole thing started. You poor girl, letting your mental illness ruin you like this. Maybe if we had gotten you into a good makeup artist--”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before the fist collided with her cheekbone. Your eyebrows hit your hairline as you instinctually tried to back further into the wall.

Ah. Looks like your boyfriend finally got here.

“Holy shit man! Did you just punch out that chick?”

Doux stared at his still-raised fist, in disbelief himself that he just did that. “Uh…” he trailed, “I’m a feminist?”

You glanced over to her. Jessica was too caught up in gripping her newfound nosebleed to pay any attention to you.

“OKAY,” you grabbed his shirt collar, “We need to go have a serious conversation, right now,”

You headed off up the stairs of the house, pulling Douxie along as you heard Jessica whine,

“Perfect, I got blood on me. This blouse is ruined.”

Well, at least she was madder about her dry cleaning than the getting punched part.

“Did anyone see who the hell did that?”

..Okay maybe not.

“I don’t know, Jess, it happened so fast, sorry. Let’s get you another drink, yeah?” You heard the host tell her. Fortunately, no one at this party was keen on the idea of having the cops called, so you could count on them to diffuse this situation for you.

You quickly found the upstairs bathroom, right where you remembered it. Luckily wide open and vacant. You shoved Doux inside, locking the door behind you. He awkwardly perched on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing his now sore knuckles, as you turned around to glare at him. His gangly legs kind of reminded you of a spider as he stamped his feet in annoyance.

“What. The fuck. Was that.” you stalked towards him.

“I’m not about to defend my need to defend you.” His tone was fast and angry, telling you was still riding out the adrenaline high from instigating a fight. He stood to meet your level. Or slightly tower over it, as it were.

You grabbed his collar again. Douxie stared you down as you leaned into his space, and he pushed himself into yours until your noses were brushing, pupils blown wild.

“I’d say it’s my responsibility, even.”

You aggressively kissed him, clacking your teeth together, but neither of you seemed to care. Your hands pinned his face into yours, and he grabbed your hips, pulling your body closer into his.

Your lips dragged together in a dance. It was amazing how easily he could make your head spin. Douxie moaned into you, and you, not for the first time, wished you could get a recording of that sound to play over and over again. You smiled into the kiss.

His hands roamed up to your ribs, fingers digging into the flesh of your chest beneath him. You gently bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, suckling an apology as he made a noise that could only be described as a hot little whimper.

You started walking him backwards, until he hit the wall behind him. You pushed a leg in between his, and an arm up on the wall beside his head, trapping him against you. Well, not trapping. He was bigger than you and could overpower you anytime he wanted to. That just made it sexier in your opinion.

He pulled back slightly, just to run his tongue over your lips, making you gasp and provide an opportunity for him to push in past your teeth. Doux moaned as he ran his tongue over yours, driving you crazy. God, you loved how vocal he was. And you loved tasting his breath like this.

Douxie continued exploring your mouth like he hadn’t memorized the pattern of your teeth by now and you let him have this bit of dominance over you, considering you were currently boxing him into the wall. He dragged his tongue along the roof of your mouth, and your brain shut off. Nothing was happening except this feeling. He was the only person in the world and--

A loud bang bang bang from someone knocking on the door reminded you where you were. And there were in fact more people here.

You pulled apart, gasping for breath. His face was adorably flushed.

“Just for the record, I wasn’t reprimanding you," you told him breathlessly.

“I can see that now.”

You snickered as he started fixing his hair in the mirror in an attempt to look less disheveled. It wasn’t going to matter when you both walked out together, but sure.

“I know the party just started but we might need to leave already.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. we ‘might’.” You smiled up at him, as you took his hand, “C’mon let’s get out of here before Jessica sees me again.”

[whorediaries-09]

a pocket full of soul

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- don't get used to the sap ya'll it ain't lasting long 🥰.

little train. series masterlist.

there was somebody at your door. knocking away like a maniac, about to break your wall, if you must. pushing up your reading glasses to your read you walked towards the door, book in hand, afraid of losing the page you’d been reading. you peeped through the eyehole.

it was sirius. clad in a soft cotton t-shirt, paired with black jeans, he stood in front of the door, his hands carrying a beautiful bouquet of white roses. you opened the door, and he smiled wolfishly, sparing his white teeth.

‘let me in?’ he asked, handing you the bouquet. you moved aside, nodding your head.

‘please, make yourself comfortable.’

‘thank you, sweetheart,’ he said. his gray eyes raked over your figure clad in nothing but a hot pink silk pyjamas. your hair was put up messily into a bun and your nose covered in a mask to extract out blackheads.

‘uhh, i’m sorry I’ll go freshen up myself.’ he let out a bark like laughter.

‘honey, if there’s anybody who needs to be fresh within the walls of your home, then it’s me, not you. be comfortable, this is your house.’ you laughed at his silly comment, gesturing him to sit down on the sofa.

‘do you like the flowers? i can only hope you’re not allergic to them…’

‘i’m not, don’t worry. but what do i owe this sweet gesture to?’ he raised his left eyebrow, looking at you sceptically.

‘why, do you think sweet gestures are supposed to owe the other party something?’ you stuttered,

‘i-ah well, no.’

‘i can see you lying. if i must, i’m great at occlumency.’ you made a very fast attempt to block out your thoughts.

‘i’m an auror, i too am skilled at occlumency! doesn’t mean i go around reading other people’s thoughts!’ you exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him. he laughed, gesturing you to sit down.

‘can you get me a cuppa? i need to ask you something.’ he said. you sat down beside him, wandlessly summoning a cup, hot boiling water, a tea bag and a tray of sugar cubes.

‘i’m sorry i don’t have the kind you drink…i’m just the good old tea bag person…i don’t have too much tea…i’m not very fond of it…’ you drawled. putting in a couple of sugar cubes into the cup with hot water. you dipped the bag into the cup, then carefully handed it to him. he hummed gratefully,

‘it’s fine, sweetheart,’ the nickname rolled of his tongue so sweetly rasp, it made your stomach burst into intense collywobbles. ‘don’t me sorry. i know you prefer coffees…what was that? salted caramel lattes and a butter cookie.’ you gasp playfully.

‘you remember!’

‘of course, i remember. but actually, remind me to buy you a pack of butter cookies the next time i come back here.’

‘i can buy my own, you know that right?’

‘i mean, i do. it’s just fun to gift stuff other people.’ you hummed, nodding your head in reply.

‘i saw harry today.’ he said, taking a slow sip. you stare at him. he’s got his head lowered, as if he’s ashamed of something. he doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

‘did you?’ you whisper. you see his hands shake-the one he holds the cup with. he sniffs, as if trying to hold back tears.

‘i bought gifts for him you know? for his birthday. it’s in two days. but i still haven’t figured out how to give them to him. hell, i didn’t even know what my godson would like. god i feel awful.’ he whispers. after what seems like an eternity, he stares into your eyes.

‘it’s not your fault, sirius.’ you asserted, reaching for his shaking hand. he nods.

‘but you know, i just… feel like it is. even though it is not and i know i’m being unreasonable with my irrational way of thinking…but i can’t help but feel so fucking awful.’ you listen to every word he spills from his lips.

‘i understand, sirius.’

‘dumbledore told me he’d left him within the care of petunia-lily’s sister, and her husband. but i saw how they treated the poor boy today. he was carrying a huge heavy bag of groceries while petunia’s boy was kicking her all the way through the street for a bag of candies. what horrendous manners the boy had! while harry looked so sickly and thin and pale…yet somehow a carbon copy of james,’ he stops midway before chuckling ‘but he’s got lily’s eyes of course. i turned into padfoot, and followed them to see where they live.’ you nod, allowing him to continue. he squeezes your hand harder.

‘i’ve found where they live. i came here to ask you of a favor.’

‘what, sirius? i’ll help you if i can.’ you ask.

‘well, i’d like if you’d… you know act as a sales person and show up on their step trying to sell goods…’

*-

the helmet on your head was heavy and tight. you rolled your eyes, gripping his shoulder hard as sat on the motorcycle. he whirred the engine.

‘are you ready?’ you nodded. from the mirror, you could see his bright wide smile as you clang onto him like a koala.

‘you’re not afraid, are you?’ he asked.

‘no.’

how sirius black had had you agreeing to this idea was of mystery. but you supposed it some sort of pity you felt for him. and somehow hated yourself for pitying him. he was the strongest and the bravest man you knew…yet here you were, pitying on him. or perhaps it wasn’t pity. maybe you just wanted to provide him the company he needed-he desired to get back on track on like. you remembered him to be a social butterfly as a young teen.

perhaps you were allowing yourself to be drained by his presence so that he wouldn’t be stuck on the parallels of death and paradise.

‘just hold on tight, and we’ll be off.’ he said. you wrapped your arms tenderly around his waist, gently striding your chin upon his shoulder. your thighs were parallel to his, the skin touching.

‘are you gonna fly?’ you asked timidly, apparently not very concealing about your fear. sirius couldn’t help but smile.

‘i was thinking, but now that you’re with me, i think rather against of it. you might crush my ribs.’

‘sirius black i’ll wipe that grin right off your face,’ you threatened. sirius merely laughed, apparently not very afraid of your threat. there was no reason to be-if you were quite honest with yourself, it was really only an empty threat. you slightly pinched his chest.

‘ouch, you hurt me, sweetheart,’

‘fly off black,’ you demanded.

‘oh, so we’re using last names now?’ he asked, grinning. ‘as you say, sweetheart,’ he said, whirring his engine and pushing off onto the sky. you unconsciously held onto his waist, tighter than intended to. the wind bites you on your face, and you hide it into the crook of his neck. he chuckles slightly, goosebumps kissing his skin as your warmth breathe fans over his cold neck.

‘i thought you wouldn’t be afraid?’ he teases.

‘just look ahead of you!’ you exclaim.

‘there’s nothing we’d bump into! except the birds of course.’ he’s right, of course, but you feel a twinge in your stomach every time he teases you. it’s a weird juxtaposition to be stranded upon, you think, because you really aren’t one who’s likes it when somebody teases you-you aren’t one who’s up for banter either. you find it to be quite obnoxious too, spewing unnecessary nonsense for the fun of it.

yet, somehow when sirius does it, your heart leaps with joy, and you feel yourself loosen up around him-comfortable around him.

you look down as you whir past the city lights. they glow subtly, creating a beautiful effect you want to engrave in your memory forever. they whizz past you, as he rides into the air. and suddenly, you find yourself sinking into the warmth that sirius black’s presence fills you up with. it’s a rare feeling you’re foreign to. it scares you, but you stay stranded, unable to escape the sweet feeling that tingles in the depth of your stomach.

it's as if you’re tasting the pleasures of life when he laughs, the sound loud and echoing in your brain as the city whirs past you into thin air.

*-

to put in a short phrase, handling the wrath of petunia dursley or vernon dursley was not a child’s play. they’d lock the door at your face if they could if they’d be annoyed by strangers. but of course, there was a way to everybody’s heart in some way. with the correct charm and words, they could be easily melted into a puddle.

so, you turned up at their door selling the best sausages in the locality at a reasonable-no cheap price. while they weren’t very fond of pets, and didn’t appreciate you bringing your dog along with them, they seemed to have agreed to just for this bit for the dog seemed polite.

to demonstrate the quality of the sausages, you found yourself in the kitchen, sizzling up sausages on a little pan. sirius stood by you, unreasonably quiet as he observed the slight char on the sausages. you put them neatly on a plate, offering them to a kid whom you assumed to be their kid. there was no way he’d be harry-with the rather plump body, empty eyes and the mop of blonde hair. the familiarity with vernon and the child was almost uncanny.

‘who are you?’ a small voice asked, popping his head from the door of the kitchen.

‘come here boy! give the lovely girl some water!’ vernon barked as a form of acknowledging his presence. the boy nodded, walking towards the fridge, to fetch you some water. the quiet interaction was disturbed by the sudden barking of the black dog. it turned around his body, barking at harry who stood petrified by the fridge-afraid of the sudden barks. you could’ve easily recognised harry by his messy black curls, and the bright emerald eyes which hid the same shine of kindness as lily’s did.

‘calm down snuffles, c’me here,’ you said, raking your nails through his soft hair. it was eerily familiar to sirius’ soft and silky strands.

‘he gets agitated when he smells food.’ you explained. petunia nodded, staring at the dog who was now perched on your lap. with silent mischief, he licked the blonde boy’s plate, as if proving your statement.

‘oh, lovely boy,’ you cooed at the boy, ‘do you mind if i take a sausage?’

‘take a half from a half,’ he replied, his voice thick as he swallowed down the meat. you tried not to show the slight annoyance you felt at his words, breaking a small piece from the sausage. you rubbed a spot behind sirius’ ear, silently pleading him to not get out of control.

harry slid you a cold glass of water. this was the moment to steal. you could only hope you didn’t mess this up. it was tricky to do an invisibility spell wandless and wordless-but you had trained yourself thorough and hard to try and fight any situations which could barricade your way to success. all you had to do was to put the gifts along with the letter sirius had written him into the place where he slept.

it was tricky, yet done within the few spins of the second hand on the clock. you watched as the night sky darkened, from the dursley’s window, you decided to exit. this place was extremely suffocating, and within yourself you felt something snap. you weren’t expecting the dursleys to buy anything from you anyway, so you when they refused the offer to buy the sausages, you took the opportunity and ran for it, snuffles barking after you as he ran after you.

once outside the house, you breathed slow and heavy, watching snuffles transform into sirius. with a pocket full of soul, he took your hand into his, running towards the parking spot of his motorcycle.

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

[jolalibrary]

Hi Jo!

How did you get into writing fanfic?

I’m sorry I’ve sat on this for so long, but I wanted to make sure I answered it with the full attention it deserves. I apologise for the length 😂.

I began this as to how, but then also why? and it got long.

warnings for: jo being overly open, sharing things she doesn’t usually, mentions of mental health, mention but not discussion of sexual trauma poor sleep, and again, oversharing. I don’t think I’ve been this open ever, so be gentle with me.

so, I began writing fanfic in 2015. I discovered it on accident, I was doom scrolling on Pinterest, trying to see if I could make some tree decorations in an insomnia bout (because I’d already completed TLOU - irony I know) and discovered a fanfic.

and I was lost in it, 200k deep and then I read another, and another, and I don’t know why I had an idea to attempt to write my own, but I did, and I poured all of my pain into it. (I eventually took this fic down because it was so freaking personal and painful to have up - and it’s still shared now by several people which irks me a lot). but god at the time? it healed me. and it brought me two people who I still talk to to this day, even if we don’t live in the same timezone.

I stayed in that fandom until 2018 when I left and continued only writing for daredevil (which id joined in like 2016).

and then in 2019 I stopped all together due to bad mental health, and just personal things in my life (I really wasn’t doing that well and wanted a bit of a reset).

it was then I began writing an original story. working on it obsessively, eventually shaping it to show some agents at a writing festival in 2020 (virtually, cause of the rona). and it was good, I met with three and two of them loved it. i had amazing feedback, including requests, and I should have been happy, right?

well, I FREAKED out. my little romcom could be something? I sobbed, I broke down, I couldn’t get out of bed for two days and I was a mess.

now, the reasons as to why, is still fuzzy to me. but I assume it’s because all of my life I’d truly believed that Im not good at anything. and writing was this one thing I had to myself, that I shared but never expected anything. and then, suddenly there was expectations, and the reality that people had read it—people who could do things with it, terrified me.

their nice words had weight, meaning? and yet they felt like iron pokers against my skin. even through therapy I don’t like delving into the why’s the what’s, but I assume it’s a combination of lack of self belief and the foundation I’m built on (and why I struggle with compliments) but also the fact it went from a hobby to something that could be something. and I think I freaked at it.

from here, my mental health took a big hit, I was so anxious I couldn’t leave the house and by the end of that year I was back to where I was in 2019, but if anything, much worse?

I didn’t know who I was. all the trauma i thought I’d healed from, rose up inside of me and it took me ages to finally be able to even think about writing again. I was broken. reset to more than factory settings because I couldn’t even recall what I liked? what I loved (outside of my husband and dog). I was a shadow wandering around, going from appointment to appointment.

and then, because he’s an amazing soul, my husband suggested I write fanfic again. start again, try. and I did. I potted around under a different name and then in 2022 i grabbed mvtthewmurdvck back, and I came back through call of duty.

by the end of that year, I found narcos 💁‍♀️ (javi supremacy) and here we are, 2024.

I say a lot that writing saved me, and it literally did.

and I rarely share all of this, but I’m not ashamed of my story, but sometimes I feel I should have been stronger?

but actually, I’m strong for getting up even when I was knocked down. I rebuilt, I reshaped and I discovered threads in myself I’d never known was there. and that took guts.

I was able to discover my sex drive, a thing I’ve struggled with (even in my loving and brilliant relationship) after some trauma when I was 15 with my boyfriend at the time (iykyk). I was able to write scenarios that I could then bring into my own life, and I wrote an entire fic (ILTWY) that helped me discover that I actually love sex. that I love pleasure in all its forms.

I was able to find my heart again, and write a romcom that made me find people I couldn’t be without now, but also, show myself that I can still write a romcom, and that thing in 2020 was just a blip, it wasn’t a sign and it wasn’t a thing that would define me.

and, even now, while I’m struggling to even smile, and I cried putting my eyebrows on this morning, I wrote my feelings out into a Drabble I’m not sure if I’ll share, that made me feel like I could go to work today and cope.

I say that notes and things aren’t my focus here, but never really explained why, but this, all above, is why. writing is there for me, it’s a crutch, it’s a saviour when the world feels too much. it was a thing that I lived without for a short period, but when I came back to it, it was like returning home.

and the best part? I get to share my words with you, I get to think “maybe this will resonate with people” and find that sometimes, it does. I get to be a comfort, to make someone smile, to make you laugh or even make you feel a little horny hahahah. and that means MORE to me, because when I was lost, afraid and terrified of the voice in my head, someone else’s words did that for me. they held me close, they helped me stop and pause and take a breath.

and that’s how I got into writing fanfic, and why it will forever be something special to me.

an: I haven’t edited this, and I’m shaking, so if there’s spelling mistakes, ignore.

[idkfitememate]

Alright listen Mora!Reader is nearly done but I just had a truly awful idea and I’m listening to Extreme/Brazilian Funk rn so I’m on a mind high okay so here’s the tea (never saying that again):

So we know that Obey Me doesn’t follow the Bible in anyway whatsoever really, so why not make the entire game angsty because I’m tried? Bet, making shit angsty is my specialty.

So anyway, that’s where new character/reader comes in: Adam/Eve! And when I put their names together like that, I mean they are the same person. They were made in a way that allows them to flip flop between both genders and sex’s so like they have the best of both worlds. Good a cooking and cleaning and sewing and child stuff as well as hunting and war and providing and so on and so forth.

Now here’s the kicker, they’re the human Lilith meets.

And *poof* love blossoms. She’s like “Awe cute little human~” and they’re like “Wow a being beyond my mortal comprehension! Neat!” Love.

So all the “God doesn’t want me here” shit goes down and instead of being like “aw don’t listen to him baby stay down here with us humans” they’re like “Then??? Stop visiting me??? If The Father doesn’t want that????”

So anyway war starts and she dies-

And their like “OH NO MY LOVE” so they chase after her falling body and try to catch her but end up slipping off a cliff and being forced to watch as Lucifer does the deal thingy with Dia and then they also get reincarnated with her.

But not for good reason oh no, they’re immortal now and forced to watch as she lives her life and watch her descendants live their lives as well.

Also they’ve been instilled with the 7 deadly sins, but the 7 heavenly virtues are still stuck in em as another punishment so they can go “Imma gonna rob this bank😏” “you could use this to feed the poor😇” “NOOOOO-“

They start off being okay with the brothers and still praying but soon (and by soon I mean over the course of thousands of years) it turns into them owing a shrine in their house for the soul purpose of of praying to God to shit on him.

“So today I learned that Lilith’s 243rd descendent is a world leader. That’s cool. Bet you didn’t see that coming huh you fucking bitch? Bet you weren’t counting on that were you whore? Hope your ass sits on an angel with a shockingly sharp halo.”

Yeah they’re pissy which is fair.

And then, the cherry on top?

They get invited to R.A.D. as a human participant.

Now, last they checked this did seem like something Dia would do (they never had bad blood with him) but DAMNIT why them???

They are so fucking tired dude, when they get down there the demon brothers try to scare them and they probably say at some point “Oooooo Beel’s gonna eat you oooooo!!!1!1!11” And they just… rip their leg off and throw it at him before using an ancient magic to rapid fire heal their leg back to perfect health and walk away, leaving them in shock.

I’m sorry it’s late and like I said Mora!Reader is nearly done but this idea (that I know FULL WELL I didn’t articulate right) hasn’t left my mind as well as another that I might dump in a while lmao. Mmm just asshole Adam/Eve!Reader(??? Would anyone read that??-) who is tired of the brothers bullshit and ready to throw Belphie through a wall for coddling them hehe ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

Also I’m open to questions if anyone has any (I doubt it lol) hehe got to many ideas ૮꒰ ˶꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ˶꒱ა♡

Anyway bye-

[wedontdeservethestars]

hii!!!! assuming ur still takin requests for that writing game, could u do cingulomania w/ ethan winters?

LOVED the heisenberg one btw I'm abt to reblog it and express my adoration for ur writing it is soo good <333

and so u don't have to go look through that whole big post, here's the definition for u :] "cingulomania: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms."

Hi there! First off I am SO sorry for how long this took for me to churn out, this ask got sent around the time I started tech week at my college for a show and then, of course, the show itself overtook my life. Oops lol....anyhow!! I decided to go a more hurt/comfort route with this so it got a little angsty, hope that's okay!! Still has a happy end (because God knows our poor guy Keithan Splinters deservers it..)

Also plot note: reader somewhat takes the place of Mia in the Resident Evil timeline (sorry babygirl), this drabble takes place post-RE8

CW for themes of identity crisis, self-hatred, and things like the such

((Send me a vocab word and a resident evil character and I’ll write a little drabble!!))

“Can you hold my hand? Please?”

Ethan’s tone surprised you. You yourself felt rather sunny. It was hard not to, what with the baby blue sky brushed with cottony clouds and a summer breeze that just tickled your skin enough to be pleasant on such a warm day. The scent of fresh sandwiches and fruit slices and homemade cheesecake (Ethan’s favorite) wafted by on the wind. What made the day even more perfect was that the two of you had somehow managed to secure this spot alone. Despite the field you settled your picnic in being near a public hiking trail, there wasn’t another soul in sight. Usually Ethan enjoyed this. People weren’t his thing, especially not as of late. He much preferred spending his time with just you and Rose, who was fast asleep in her baby basket beside the two of you, her little nose scrunching up when it caught pollen on the breeze.

The day itself was planned out as perfectly as you could hope. Along with lunch, you packed books and a deck of cards to play with later on and you wore a neat little outfit. Ethan was dressed similarly in a blue-dotted button-up and earthy slacks, but despite his trimmed appearance, you could tell how distressed he was. That, and the mere cadence of his request. He seemed so despondent. He had been, ever since returning from Europe to the states. You really couldn’t blame him, after what he’d endured just to get Rose back. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been through a lot, either, but Ethan had arguably suffered just as badly, if not more. 

Especially since he learned of his genetic reform. 

“Sure, bug,” you murmured, stretching your hand towards him. 

Ethan, with glazed eyes that couldn’t quite reach yours, grazed his skin against your fingers. You pulled him fully into your grasp. He didn’t feel cold, but he definitely didn’t feel as warm as you expected him to. He just felt stagnant. 

“You okay?” you poked, searching his face for any hint of what turmoil lied behind it. 

“Mm.” Ethan replied curtly. You sighed. By now, you were used to his non-responses, but it didn’t change the fact that you were still saddened that he wouldn’t talk to you.

“That doesn’t sound very okay,” you murmured, trying to be gentle but also, and quite frankly, fed up with him closing you off like you hadn’t been married for literal years. 

When Ethan remained silent, you felt your heart sink like stone and let go of his hand–that is, until he tightened his own grip. When you looked back at him, there was the unmistakable red glow of tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. Immediately, you felt bad for dismissing him before.

“Ethan?” you asked. 

“I’m afraid.” 

You brushed a stray tuft of blonde hair from his face. “Of what, darling?” 

This time, in addition to a trembling breath, you got a full sentence. “What if I’m not me anymore?”

A frown tugged at your lips. “Of course you’re you. What are you talking about?”

“I’m not human anymore.” Ethan’s voice was quiet. It was tinged with palpable tension.

“You’re human enough,” you assured him. “Maybe not anatomically. But you can still move and talk and think, can’t you? And love.”

“And hurt.” It sounded like something was stuck in his throat. “I-I don’t know what I am anymore.”

“You’re Ethan,” you said decisively. “Nothing else matters. You still feel like yourself, right?”

“I don’t know.” Ethan looked up at you suddenly, his piercing eyes wide and wild. “I don’t remember how I’m supposed to feel. Do you know how many times I’ve been cut and stabbed and shot and-and ripped apart, only to be-to be fucking stitched back together like some freakish monster? I haven’t felt like anything but a monster for years!”

A silence had overcome you. Even the gentle sound of the breeze felt like an intruder. You wet your lips and averted your gaze. Ethan had let go of your hand again at was staring at his wrist. The first place he’d been destroyed.

“I’m…sorry,” you finally settled on. What else were you supposed to say?

“You weren’t supposed to know that,” he said.

“Why not?” 

“Because you can’t fix it. Fix me.” You watched his fingers flex back and forth. You could still make out the numerous scars and scratches forever etched deep into the fungal layers of his skin, even if they had grown fainter with time. 

“You’re right.”

Ethan looked at you, startled at your agreement.

“I can’t,” you continued. “I don’t think anyone can fix you. I think that you have changed. But so have I. And so has Rose…all of us are different after the Baker house, and the village, and Evelyn, and…everything. Did I ever tell you about my nightmares?”

“Your…nightmares,” Ethan wracked. You laid your hand over his.

“I dream about the Bakers every night. Even after all this time, I still see them in my mind. That’s my scar.”

“You…” His mouth had gone dry. Feeling like you had guilted him a little harder than you meant to, you backtracked.

“My point is, we’re both different people. But what matters is that, in the most important ways, we’re still the same. I still love you, just like when we met. I hope you love me the same.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “More than anything.”

“So you’re still Ethan.” Your hands gravitated towards his strong jaw, and you smiled. For the first time in a long time, you saw a lightness enter his eyes. 

“Maybe…” It wasn’t a full confirmation. But it was something. 

“Besides,” you teased lightly, “I like all of your scars. Makes you look like an action hero.”

“Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted to be one of those stunt guys.”

“There he is,” you giggled. “There’s that sarcastic guy I fell in love with.”

Ethan huffed, but the deep creases of his face had softened, and you aided their slack with a kiss to a pink cut across the bridge of his nose. 

“But seriously,” you murmured as you laid your lips along the other marks on his face, “I will kiss every single scar and scrape on your beautiful body if I have to.”

“And what would that prove, hm?”

“That I’ll never stop loving you. No matter what you look like, or what you are, or whatever’s going on with you. You are so, so perfect, Ethan Winters. And I love you more than anything on this godforsaken earth, even if it doesn’t seem to love you back.”

Ethan chuckled softly and squeezed your hands. 

“Thank you, honey.” He planted a kiss just on your forehead, and you smiled. “I love you, too.”

[coachtfd]

Oh maaaan please lemme tell you: I’ve been a United fan more than 20 years and been through thick and thin with the club and it will always be like this. I will always support United and no one else. But at the same time I genuinely DO NOT enjoy watching United for a VERY long time. It’s not the lack of trophies for me personally but the fact that our football is so fucking ugly it physically hurts to watch. We are so poor at footballing activities it boggles the mind! Even against dead last Southampton we were poor as fuck but I wasn’t even surprised because that’s been our standard for a while. Our football is outright unwatchable and if I was a little kid right now I sure as hell would not fall in love with this sorry excuse of a football club. I had huge hopes for Ten Hag but I’m so fed up with him now I can’t stand to look at him nor listen to his bullshit interviews anymore. He has been here for 2 years and he’s done fuck all in my book. And I swear to god I didn’t expect him to win the fucking prem in his first 3 years but I very much HOPED to see good fucking football and he couldn’t deliver! In 2 years we had like 5 good games when I thought this is it! This is how Manchester United football club should play! The rest? Abysmal performances one after another. One season going down the drain like dirty bath water after another.

Oh and not to mention the moral decay the club is in.. they almost brought Greenw**d back no problem! Like my beloved club that I have been supporting with my heart and soul and my money was on the cusp of reintegrating that pos and only changed plans in the last second when they saw that the reaction to that possibility was far from kind and understanding. Then we have another scandal involving Antony who’s still here and playing despite the allegations against him. Should be out the fucking door ffs but the club didn’t even try to get rid of him. Fuck that!

I’m massively disappointed in this club for several reasons so no I can’t even celebrate a win at this point. Win or lose I just acknowledge it and move on. I think in the last 10 years they managed to kill my love and passion I used to have for football itself. I used to miss events and outings just to catch the famous Man United play but now? Sometimes I even forget to check when we play and if I miss a game I just don’t care. Am I plastic now? Am I fake? Guess I’m just disillusioned and bitter. Oh well.

Ah fuck, this got extremely long, feel free to delete it’s whatever x

There it is, that’s what I wanted to get to. I feel you on all of this, I totally get it. And I don’t blame you for thinking or feeling this way, United has put all of us through the wringer. Some of us way more than others because it’s more than just a sports team to them. It is for me.

I remember when glimpses of United was all I could hope for because they didn’t start showing full games on the regular in the US until I was out of high school. My dad would literally interrupt whatever I was doing if he found out that a game was on. We weren’t very close and didn’t get along very well as I got older, but we had football in common, we had United. I don’t take it for granted that a team named United pulled us together when it felt like just about everything else pushed us apart. He loved their resilience, their never quit attitude. As a West Indian, he loved Dwight York and Andy Cole. So I get your passion, and I understand your anger.

I made a promise to the United fans on here that when I truly felt better times were ahead I would let them know, and I’m doing that now for a reason. I was right when I predicted this dark time we’ve been in and I believe I’m right about it coming to an end. It won’t be this season or the next, but it’s coming. I encourage you to keep hoping and to try to rekindle your love for this incredible club. I once said that every United fan is a winner and winners love supporting each other. You’re a winner, and if our club is going to win the league again it needs your support right now. It’s honestly not about me at all, we’re Manchester United, winning is our way. You can’t keep a winner down forever. 🙂

My inbox is always open. If you ever need to vent about United or life, or just need a shot of encouragement, please feel free to write me…that goes for all of my followers. ❤️ #ggmu

[c-c-cherry]

HELLO you may recognise me as the artist that drew that one whole scene from chapter 7!! thought i'd drop in to say:

FIRST OF ALL midterms are the pain ever, i wish you all the best!! stay hydrated <3

SECOND OF ALL thank you for taking the time to leave such a long and heartfelt reply on my post asjcjkdj it made me really really happy and giddy for the rest of the day i'm so glad i managed to portray the characters and envision the scenes the way you intended us to! your writing is absolutely gorgeous and i hope you're doubting its quality less, because it is top tier.

speaking of your writing i was tempted to talk about why i really loved the fic in the post itself but felt like it was really long already 😭

so here i am, this may be long, i apologise in advance for my rambling, in this essay-

REIGEN'S SPIRALLING DOWN THE NEGATIVE SELF TALK WAS SO HEART BREAKING BUT SO RAW, IN A WAY, LIKE IT HURTS THAT HE REALLY THINKS NO ONE NEEDS HIM AROUND AND EVERYONE WOULD BE FINE/BETTER OFF W/O HIM. BUT SO SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN POSITIVELY IMPACTED BY HIM AND SO MANY PEOPLE LOVE HIM AND WANT HIM AND NEED HIM

I LOVE HOW REIGEN WAS FORCED TO FACE THAT TRUTH THROUGH DIMPLE'S MEMORIES, I LOVE HOW DIMPLE CARES AND IS CONCERNED FOR REIGEN WHILE BEING BRUTAL AND A LITTLE SHIT

i love how everyone turns to teru because he's reliable and he's smart but he's just a 14 year old who's had to be his own adult for way too long and he's just trying to figure things out, too. I LOVE HATE THE WAY HE TRIES TO FILL REIGEN'S SHOES, I LOVE THEIR FATHER-SON DYNAMIC

getting me started on ritsu would be a mistake as i may write a 13k word essay if left unattended BUT in short, I LOVE THE WAY YOU DEPICTED HIS TRAUMA, HIS EXTREMELY HUMAN, EMOTIONAL REACTION TO MOB POTENTIALLY LOSING CONTROL, THE WAY HE ISN'T OVER IT, BECAUSE REALLY THATS SO UNDERSTANDABLE, THE WAY HE'S JUST A SMALL, SCARED 13 YEAR OLD JUST OUGHHH

MOB AND HIS CONCERN FOR REIGEN, HIM STEPPING UP EVEN THOUGH HE KNEW HIS SHISHOU COULD BE DEAD INSIDE THE OFFICE, HIS BRAVERY AND HIS COMPASSION. AND THE ONE MEMORY? WHERE HES ASKING REIGEN NOT TO LEAVE SO SOON, NOT WITHOUT SAYING SOMETHING I CRIED. I CRIED OK I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

SERIZAWA DESPITE BEING ARGUABLY THE MOST ANXIOUS ABOUT THE WHOLE SITUATION, STEPPING UP!! TAKING CHARGE AND BEING MATURE AND DOING HIS BEST, FOR THE KIDS AND FOR HIMSELF AND ESPECIALLY FOR REIGEN

and shou oh my god i love that he tags along, that he's included but feels like an outcast in their group, the way he's there because he cares but he thinks he doesn't really have the right since he's not as close to reigen. HES SO ALONE BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO INTEGRATE INTO THEIR CIRCLE, SO HE KIND OF HANGS AROUND THE EDGE AND GOOD LORD I WISH THEY'D JUST PULL HIM IN

in conclusion i want to hug them all. i haven't felt this many emotions in so long cherry you did amazing and trust me you're going to keep doing amazing, because you are you

if you read all the way here thank you for bearing w me 😭😭 i hope you're doing well, you said you recovered from a mystery sickness recently? take care ok, we support you!! <3

-bloo

Hello Bloo!! I’m so sorry it took me this long to finally reply. Life is life, and now I’m here! But just know that I’ve been rereading this ask consistently because it makes me so happy that my work can…make people think THOUGHTS? In-depth thoughts that they want to share with me?? It still barely feels real to me that people are liking my silly self-indulgent fic where I make the business man suffer. So thank you! I’m so happy you’re enjoying it, and thank you again for that deliciously-crafted fan comic! :)

I'm sparing your poor souls from a Cherry ramble under the cut. But for those who wanna peek inside my silly head:

As for what you’re saying about the fic itself…yeah HAHA. You’ve got it down. As someone who’s completely desensitized to their own ideas and the execution of said ideas, I don’t know how obvious all my little underlying themes and ulterior plot lines have been, but your interpretation of it all is pretty spot on. I’m a sucker for forcing characters to face their own truth via IMPOSSIBLE circumstances and then dragging every other character into a whirlpool of chaos and conflict and confrontation in turn. It makes it all the more fun >:)

I’ve been trying to write the characters carefully so their dynamics blend or clash or do anything else that I please, and that means letting them roam free and interact with each other while keeping their special character quirks. I love writing Mob constantly on the verge of guilty instability, Seri having to step his ass up despite his confidence not yet being 100%, Shou and his mysterious ways that are SO worth exploring because he's such a complex character despite not appearing a lot in canon, Ritsu’s impulsive, fear-driven, 13-year-old antics (and that dreaded stop sign), and of course, Reigen and all his pathetic self-loathing. In fact, ALL of them have been incredibly fun to write because ONE has amazing, fleshed-out characters that interact so well together. BUT I’ve been surprised with how much I’ve loved writing Dimple and Teru especially. Dimple’s not hard to write at all for me, but his interactions with the other characters in writing are ADDICTING, and I didn't expect that. I will say this forever, but I want Dimple in more fics because of the POTENTIAL. LET THE FART CLOUD HAVE THE SPOTLIGHT!! As for Teru—you can ask anyone who was around for the first few draft chapters of AH—I was very hesitant to write him at all. I personally think his character is very hard to nail, and I’m honestly surprised at how much the audience has taken to his role and his little moments within the fic—that encouragement and influence definitely made him appear more than I originally anticipated :)

I could ramble for hours about every character and all their inner complexities that I'd love to explore in this work and others. But I will stop myself here hahaha.

Thank you for this sweet little breakdown of what you’re enjoying in AH so far. It makes me feel very happy :) And thank you all for all the support! It really means a lot.

As for my mysterious sickness from a few weeks ago, it has vanished! Student life is crawling with unknown bacteria. It's like you're in daycare all over again, or perhaps a medieval plague ward. Now all I have to do is battle the turbulent trials of finals :’)

[themattress]

Disney’s The Little Mermaid (2023)

All right, I’ve seen it, so let’s do this.

PROS:

- I have some problems with Ariel in this movie, but Halle Bailey ain’t one of ‘em. I mean, good lord. Not only is her singing as beautiful as expected, but her vocal impression of Jodi Benson from the original movie is phenomenal. If you hadn’t seen either movie and just heard audio files of the two back to back, it would be exceedingly difficult to pick out which was which, that’s how spot-on Bailey is with her performance. And even when Ariel is mute, Bailey never fails with her facial expressions, which continue to convey her lovable personality. You totally believe her to be Ariel because she totally believes herself to be Ariel; the sincerity that she exudes is proof of just how committed to doing this iconic character justice she was.

- Luca Paguro himself, Jacob Tremblay, was perfect castling for the voice of Flounder. 

- While I hate everything else about him, I love King Triton’s design and general vibe. He’s less of a traditional king and more of a Poseidon-like god, and that’s a cool take on him.

- The shark attack sequence. I especially liked the new way that Ariel outsmarts the shark. 

- "Part of Your World", both how the scene is staged and, of course, Halle Bailey’s singing. 

- "For the First Time". Again, it’s a Halle Bailey song. You can’t go wrong there.

- Noma Dumezweni as Queen Selina, Eric’s adoptive mother. As pointless as this character was from a story standpoint, I thought that Dumezweni sold it with her performance. 

- Art Malik as Grimsby. I totally bought his fatherly concern and affection for Eric.

- Once they’re finally allowed to start bonding after needlessly putting it off to pad out the runtime some more, Ariel and Eric’s chemistry is on point, especially in the dancing scene.

- Jodi Benson’s cameo as a merchant who gives Ariel a fork. Unexpected and delightful. 

- From the second half of “Poor Unfortunate Souls” and all through the second half of the movie, Melissa McCarthy is suddenly good as Ursula. She’s no Pat Carroll, of course, but she finally has the bombast and intimidation factor down which she was lacking in before.

- Jessica Alexander as Vanessa, who owned those two-or-so minutes she was on screen.

- Before the way it ended I was enjoying the climax. King Triton being straight-up killed rather than turned into a polyp was a genuine shock, and gigantic Ursula was utterly terrifying.

CONS:

- The opening scene is awful. Rather than that epic shot of Eric’s ship coming out of the fog with the music blaring, we get what looks to be a mermaid (actually a dolphin) swimming underwater as whimsical music plays, only for it to get cut off like a joke as the sailors on Eric’s ship try to harpoon the “mermaid” while yelling hateful superstition. Just a terrible start.

- Rather than Triton’s hatred of humans being pure bigotry on his part, the movie decides to "both sides" the conflict, making humans equally as hateful and fearful of merpeople as merpeople are of them. Worse still, they each have valid reasons for this hate and fear, making the end resolution of it being brushed off as a big misunderstanding ring hollow.

- Jonah Hauer-King as Eric. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t take him seriously in the role.

- Worse still, Eric's whole character is fucked up on multiple fronts. First off, he’s now adopted royalty instead of genuine royalty, which gives off the unfortunate implication that this is the real reason he bonds so well with the common folk and desires a life of adventure. Secondly, his life situation is made the same as Ariel’s instead of different, pushing them as kindred spirits too literally and losing much of what made him desirable to Ariel in the original. And finally, his romance with Ariel starts and ends on a lackluster note, with him being too quick to dismiss having anything to do with her after he learns she’s mute and then too quick to accept being together with her was a fantasy never meant to happen after he learns she’s a mermaid. In trying to give him more depth, the filmmakers just made him more confusing.

- The undersea world lacks appeal. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it and have since the trailers came out. More proof that animation is an art form that has things live-action can never replicate, and that Disney needs to stop making these live-action remakes already.

- Javier Bardem as King Triton. He is absolutely terrible in this, giving one of the most dull and disinterested performances I’ve seen in recent memory. He sells none of his lines.

- Triton's character isn’t any better than his actor’s performance. Beyond his bigotry against humans having more justification to it, he is downright cruel and unrelatable in his treatment of Ariel. When Triton crossed the line into abusive parenting in the original by destroying Ariel’s collection, we immediately see a flicker of realization, horror and remorse on his face once he snaps out of his rage. He’s too proud to admit to anything yet, but it helps sell his “What have I done?” remorse that we see later, and his sacrifice for Ariel’s sake in the climax. But here, he seems to have no such remorse. He’s hardly a father; just a tyrant.

- Flounder looks unappealing and Jacob Tremblay’s voice can’t save that. Sebastian looks even more unappealing, and Daveed Diggs’ obnoxiously high-pitched voice only makes his character worse. Scuttle looks unappealing, and Awkwafina creates such a different character with her performance that I don’t get why they bothered even keeping the “Scuttle” name. Much like with The Lion King remake, it again shows animation’s superiority in this regard.

- Ariel's hair is boring regular red and not vivid real red. That’s a fail on such an absurdly fundamental level, as well as a disservice to Halle Bailey who could have rocked such hair.

- Ariel's character, in the script, is as sanitized as I feared. She’s more of a socially conscious fighter for equality rather than a teenager realistically out primarily for herself and her own ambitions, her sexual lust for Eric is toned down to near non-existence, she’s much less of a rebel since she only goes to the surface for the first time when going to see Eric’s ship, she’s made to have far more hesitation in her deal with Ursula to the point she almost backs out entirely until Ursula cranks up her pressure campaign, and as I will talk more about later gets some needless “girlboss” additions the same way previous Disney heroines in live-action remakes have. Thank God for Halle Bailey, who minimizes the damage as best as she can.

- In the first half of the movie all the way through to the first half of “Poor Unfortunate Souls”, Melissa McCarthy is way too understated as Ursula. She’s doing a campy Bette Midler or Eartha Kitt style of voice, but doesn’t go big enough on her lines and absolutely lacks the skin-crawling, psychotic menace that Pat Carroll so effortlessly provided the character with.

- Restoring the deleted concept of Ursula being Triton’s sister and Ariel’s aunt was pointless. 

- "Under the Sea". Beyond the issues of the underwater world on display not working as well as in animation and Daveed Diggs’ ear poison of a voice and delivery not holding even a candlewick to Samuel E Wright, Ariel joins in on the song by the end! Excuse me? The whole point of the song is to convince her to give up her interest in the human world! Her singing along (without being forced to because it’s part of a stage musical rehearsal that she’s obligated to partake in, as is the case in Kingdom Hearts II) is akin to signing off on that! 

- There’s a plot hole about Eric’s kingdom. Apparently it’s incredibly paranoid and isolationist, and part of why Eric wants to explore other places and make connections with them is so that the kingdom “doesn’t get left behind”. That doesn’t stop its village and marketplace from being a bustling hub of multicultural diversity! Which is it? Is the kingdom isolationist or not?

- Related to the above: Eric’s song, “Wild Uncharted Waters”. Yawn.

- Also, Ariel's sisters are all different ethnicities. I assumed this meant that King Triton slept around, which certainly wouldn’t be out of place for a Greek god like he’s styled after. But no, the sisters still speak of “Mother” as if they all have the same mother! How does that work?

- Flotsam and Jetsam don't talk. Boo! Let them talk!

- There is an absolutely pointless change where Ursula, apparently having no real confidence in herself, cheats in her deal with Ariel by slipping in an amnesia potion so that Ariel forgets she needs to kiss Eric in three days’ time to stay human forever. OK, but why does that prevent her from retaining the memory of Sebastian later straight-up telling her she needs to kiss Eric? And why is she still that heartbroken when Eric gets engaged to Vanessa, given that she no longer thinks it means she won’t get to kiss him and thus won’t remain human? 

- Instead of the newly human Ariel making it to shore and getting dressed in a sail before Max sniffs her out and leads Eric to her, she gets caught in a fisher boat’s net, the fisherman gives her a cloak to wear, and he...brings her to the castle? Why? When you fish out a mute girl adrift at sea, why does your mind jump to the freaking castle and its prince as the go-to solution for getting her help? And like I said before, it actually takes away from Eric and Ariel’s bond, since him finding her and, despite his disappointment that she can’t be the girl who saved him since she’s mute, still taking care of her personally since that’s the decent thing to do was a great showing of Eric being a nice guy whom you could understand Ariel loving.

- Actually, the usage of Max is disappointing in general. Eric saves him on the burning ship so that important plot point is checked off, but him having earlier met Ariel and memorized her scent ends up having no pay-off since he isn’t the one to lead Eric to Ariel. On top of this, he doesn’t get to be the one who causes Vanessa’s shell to break and Ariel to get her voice back later, so that’s another important plot function he’s deprived of. And he’s not even a sheepdog anymore, he’s a bearded collie. What was stopping the filmmakers from using a sheepdog!?

- The stupid little jade mermaid sculpture that Eric calls “my Little Mermaid". OK, so is the movie’s title supposed to be in reference to that now? Why include that as a thing at all?

- "Kiss The Girl", beyond being ruined by Daveed Diggs’ voice, has the pointless lyrical change to make sure Eric has Ariel’s consent before kissing her. As the new lyrics say: “Use your words to ask her”. Except...Eric doesn’t fucking do that! He leans in to kiss Ariel, with her also leaning in to kiss him, at the end just like in the original, without him having asked her beforehand if it’s OK! So a classic, perfectly good love song got altered for nothing!

- "The Scuttlebutt". The only good part about it was Ariel hating it as much as I did! 

- Instead of the animals all divebombing Vanessa at her and Eric’s wedding, with Max dealing the finishing blow that makes her lose the shell containing Ariel’s voice, we have Ariel being a girlboss and....engaging Vanessa in a cat fight over the shell, ending with Ariel grabbing it and breaking it herself. Because a cat fight between women is so much more progressive?

- The climax ends with Ariel and Eric swapping places, and Ariel killing Ursula with the ruined ship. This doesn’t work, since not only does Ariel not know how to steer a ship and she looks kind of ridiculous sliding around the deck on her fish tail, Ursula going after Eric specifically rather than Ariel makes no sense (Ariel just killed Flotsam and Jetsam, Ursula is pissed off at her above all else) and Eric not killing Ursula means Triton has no impetus for learning that he was wrong about humans. Maybe this wouldn’t be a problem if Triton stayed dead in this version (since, y’know, he actually died), but alas he gets resurrected once Ursula is killed and loses the trident. And sure enough, he’s learned nothing, which leads us directly into...

- The Ending. Ariel just accepts living under the sea from now on and becomes severely depressed about it, which somehow makes Triton change his mind and turn her human (she was depressed after he destroyed her grotto and he clearly didn’t give a fuck; what’s the difference now?) Eric had also accepted he and Ariel weren’t meant to be after all, but once she shows up as a human again he instantly reverse on that. Queen Selina sadly remarked that the human world and mer-world just weren’t meant to exist together...but then Ariel is made human again and gets together with Eric, and then she says the exact opposite and endorses the two worlds existing together! Everyone is just changing their mind at the drop of a hat; it’s ridiculous! And rather than ending on a wedding with a beautiful choir version of “Part of Your World” being sung, the movie abruptly ends with Eric and Ariel sailing off in a boat toward a ship that they will use to explore other kingdoms and further connect the two worlds together in the process while the generic instrumental “Part of Your World” plays. There’s just....no real heart to it. Which sums up this movie’s problem: like the vast majority of these live-action remakes, it was not made with the same heart as the animated original. The best that can be said about it is that it’s not the worst of the remakes, and that it provides a great stepping stone for Halle Bailey’s professional acting career. Beyond that, it’s useless.

[hereticalapothecary]

Hi gorgeous… I pray you’re doing well. I pray you reach out to the One True God Jesus… unfortunately worshiping all these other “gods” just leads us further into destruction and doesn’t really feed our souls… Jesus is not the religion that hurts people and I’m sorry if that’s been your experience but a direct connection with the Spirit of God will guide you and fulfil you in ways you never thought possible.. God bless you beautiful. Please don’t be afraid to pray to Jesus and just give it a try… whether that be now or later…

If you don’t know what to say, here’s a prayer for you…

“Dear God,

I pray you come into my life and show me the way. Please guide me with Your Spirit and lead me in Your Truth.

In Jesus’ name

Amen”

God bless you beautiful. Jesus loves you so much

Oh dear friend you’ve caught me on my lunch break. I have the time.

You think you’re doing me a favor by coming into my inbox and preaching Jesus behind a grey face but you’re really not. See, had I not been through a lot of therapy I’d probably be furious and trauma triggered right now. I mean I won’t lie I’m a little annoyed but like I said, I’ve got the time.

But honestly? I just feel bad for you. Because this was the only way you’ve been taught to believe and this is the only way you’ve been taught to act. How much success has this tactic gotten you? People probably haven’t responded well in the past because no one likes being proselytized to be totally honest.

Feels bad, huh? Like the whole world is cruel and evil and this must truly be the only way because people are so mean when you’re just trying to save them. But the reality is, people are good and kind too, but people don’t like being told their belief systems are wrong.

See, you don’t know me. And I don’t know you but I can make some assumptions because I’ve been in your shoes. I’ve been the person who sees someone who has “strayed from the path” and goes “I’m praying for you” but again, it doesn’t actually help.

I grew up evangelical, probably a lot like you. And I’ll say it, I was a good Christian. I did mission trips to Africa, to Europe. I served in my community, did children’s programming, camp counseling. I went to college and got a degree in Biblical studies because I just loved God so much.

So what changed and why did I leave? After all it was people and not God, right? Well, yes and no. I left mostly because of the hypocrisy. I read a Jesus who loved the poor and stood for the oppressed while watching my classmates and professors speak out against marginalized communities in the name of Jesus.

So yes, people hurt me in the name of Jesus.

But so did God.

See, I believed that if I didn’t believe in God the right way I’d go to hell for eternity. That I could only be happy if I had Jesus in my life. And I was super depressed and it felt like I was in an abusive relationship with God.

“You’re nothing without me. Everything good in your life is because of me. Everything bad is from the enemy or I’m teaching you a lesson. You are inherently evil without me. Love me or burn forever.”

That didn’t feel like love to me - because it’s not. I realized if a human was telling me those things I’d call it abuse. Why would I let God say those kinds of things to me if I wouldn’t tolerate humans saying it to me?

So I left. And yeah, I’ve wandered to different gods. I’ve experienced too many spiritual things to deny the existence of higher powers and spirituality. But God and I are back on speaking terms now at least, and frankly I believe whatever makes you love your neighbor more is God, whether that be under the name of science and atheism or under the name of Jesus.

Here’s the thing. You can repent of this lifestyle of arrogance that causes you to come anonymously into the inbox of a queer mystic to preach evangelism 101. I don’t need your version of God because I already have God in my life.

Because here’s the thing about loving your neighbor: your neighbor also gets to choose what love looks like to them, too. And most people are not going to say that anonymous proselytization feels loving to them. It actually comes across as tone deaf and judgmental. I know that probably isn’t your heart - I have no doubt you do what you do out of a sense of love and obligation.

Because I want you to understand the harm your rhetoric can cause, I’m also going to tell you how to love me.

First of all be kind and listen to me.

Secondly, go bake something for someone physically near your location. Go make some chili for your neighbor. It’s cold out where I live, homemade goods are always nice when it’s cold.

Find your nearest food shelter and ask what they need - I hear menstrual products are always needed. Ask if they need volunteers!

Donate an eSIM to Gaza or to another organization working for a free Palestine.

If you don’t have access to any of that, just text a friend and tell them you love and appreciate them. I promise you will be the hands and feet of Jesus more by doing those things rather than telling me that I’m wrong. Because truth be told you have no clue my spiritual path because I keep a lot of it to myself these days. And I like where my path is leading me so far because it encourages me to stand up for myself but also love others more. How can that be anything but God if it’s bringing more love to the world?

I pray that you find peace and happiness in your faith, but also that you stop acting with pride. I pray you may be saved from the same despair and disenchantment I faced and also recognize the harm that can be done by being dismissive toward religious trauma. I’m willing to share those experiences if you have more questions. God loves you, and I hope you can see that I am also loved and made in the image of God even if my beliefs differ from yours.

May God bless you, truly.

[missingmywing]

Haurchefant, Estinien, Joker, Haru, Zack, Tseng, Xaldin, Lexaeus :)

kitty holy shit you created a monster. this was seven pages in my gdocs

RIGHT HERE'S THE ESSAY

Haurchefant, Estinien, Joker, Haru, Zack, Tseng, Xaldin, Lexaeus

First impression

Haurchefant: I did not trust him. The rest of Ishgard was being terrible, they made a terrible first impression, and I was fully convinced that he was also going to be a dick. And then when he wasn’t I was fully expecting him to stab me in the back. He very quickly and thoroughly proved me wrong and I fell for him quickly.

Estinien: Estinien chill. That’s it, that was my whole impression of him for a long while. Getting farther into Heavensward… okay no actually my opinion didn’t really start to change until Stormblood when he did start to chill XD

Joker: I love him. I want to be him. He’s so cool and snazzy and badass I am incredibly jealous of his everything even now, but he was absolutely my high school crush and was the first fictional character that made me actually understand the “I’m literally in love with a fictional character, they are everything” and he’s still incredibly fun and heavy to write. …. hence why I wrote a 200k fic with him at the center of most of the one-shots. He’s still one of my favorite ever fictional characters.

Haru: “Oh god this is awful. This poor girl. I’m dying from the secondhand embarrassment. Mona why would you do this to her. Haru I’m so sorry.” I sympathized with her a because Morgana was being petty, while she was just trying to escape a terrible situation, but I was also very worried about what trouble the two of them would end up getting into because I was scared the Mona situation was setting up for someone to die or something. Which technically it was, just not P3 level bad XD

Zack: I would like to reiterate that my first experience with FFVII was AC followed by Crisis Core, which meant I went into the game with very little idea of who people were or what was going on. Which meant that, aside from Lightning (bc I got into FF through XIII) Zack was my first true Final Fantasy protagonist. I loved him from the first, his excitement and enthusiasm was endearing - even if his naivete made my fifteen year old self roll my eyes. But watching him grow and mature, watching the sheer unfairness of everything, and then the ending - I loved him, I’ve always loved him and he was one of the first characters I actually took the time to learn to write properly, and was the one to actually get me into serious writing. So you could say the puppy made a pretty good first impression on me :)

Tseng: “Oh he’s pretty. And serious and competent, but he does have a really subtle and dry sense of humor. Okay he’s already one of my favorites in this game.” I completely skimmed past him in ACC, but CC is where he caught my attention and made me love him.

Xaldin: Okay I’ll be honest, you’re asking about something that happened almost a decade and a half ago, when I was like. Nine. I’m pretty sure my impression was “Wow he has a lot of lances, that’s cool! I wanna do that- AAAAAAA WHAT’S GOING ON WHY IS THIS FIGHT SO HARD - WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M MICKEY MOUSE WHAT’S GOING ON?!?!”

Lexaeus: Similar to above, except it was “Whoa, he’s giant and looks strong - DID HE JUST USE RIKU TO BREAK THE ROOF??? AAAAAAAAA-”

Impression now

Haurchefant: He’s the best. I love him. He sweet and supportive and was willing to lay down his reputation to offer us sanctuary and his life to protect us AND HE DESERVES THE UNIVERSE. He may not be as complex or as deeply compelling as Emet, but gods if he doesn’t reach into your soul and grab ahold of your heart. I have so many feelings and thoughts and headcanons and story clips for him I can’t even begin to describe how much I love him.

Estinien: BOY OH BOY TALK ABOUT COMPLICATED. I mean not really at this point, but Heavensward sure was. I love this idiot. He spent the entire first three patches on a one-track mind about how much he hated dragons and wished for nothing more than to wipe them out (making my WoL who was, you know, Tiamat’s daughter disguising herself as an au ra, very uncomfortable) and then from SB on he was their biggest advocate and basically became a wyrm therapist and its. It’s just so funny. This tsundere dumbass who can’t use money. He saves our asses then casually drops us off with Aymeric without a word and brushes off thanks. He cares deeply but hell if you’ll get him to admit it. I have just as many feels and headcanons and story snippets with him as with Haurche - probably more given Etheria’s lore and backstory - and I adore him very much.

Joker: Pretty sure I gushed about him enough above, my feelings have not changed in the slightest. He’s super complex once you start digging into his reactions to things - his phrasing, his sprites, his model motions and quirks - and it’s so much fun to write him and explore his character. I love him so much, he’s still the character I know the most about and relate to the most because there’s so much there once you dig into it.

Haru: I lovvveeee herrrrr. She doesn’t get enough screentime, and her arc was… bland and shallow and, as others have pointed out, probably shoehorned into the story last minute. She and Makoto weren’t actually originally supposed to be part of the PT, they were added later into development, which is probably why they have the weakest arcs of any of the PTs. She has enormous potential, and Strikers did pretty good at helping develop that out… though Atlas continues to actually refuse to address her biggest character point. I don’t know why, but can we please have an honest conversation with her addressing her feelings about Akechi and Shido and what her father was doing and participating in, and how she feels about what he did to her, even if he’s dead now. Atlas are cowards these are important to her character and if they don’t do it then I will.

Zack: Zack is still a beloved character for me, even if he isn’t one of my absolute favorites anymore. There’s a lot to explore with him that canon hinted at, which most of the fandom seems to ignore. He has layers and depth, and he’s just as tragic - if not more - as any of the Soldier Three. Everything he went through, how much he lost even as he tried to cling to it, how he grew up and slowly lost all his naivete… and then his relationship with Kunsel that we never truly get to explore, and how others view him and who he is as a SOLDIER as much as a person and where the dichotomy there lies… I still love him a lot, and really love how subtly complex he is.

Tseng: He’s always been a really fascinating and fun character for me, and I still really like him. His complexity with Rufus, the other Turks, and Zack and Aerith is fascinating as well. I don’t write him as much as others (partially because I still have yet to hunt down an english version of Before Crisis) but he’s a really interesting character that I have fun with when I do have the opportunity to write him.

Xaldin: Well admittedly most of my hcs are adopted from or inspired by other people, but hooo this is a bitter and heartbroken man who is definitely projecting and refusing to admit it with that whole… whatever is going on with Beast’s Castle. I hced that even before seeing other people’s, but it was pretty validating to see that I wasn’t the only one who looked at Beast’s Castle and went “oh yeah, that’s someone who got a very messy divorce.” I love exploring his relationship with the other apprentices, as well as all the Keybladers, now that everyone’s back and the worlds are starting to heal. He accidentally dads the younger kids - as do most of the apprentices tbh - and is constantly exasperated by it. This not what he signed up for. He didn’t even want the damn thing back. Dammit.

Lexaeus: I love him. Textbook definition of a gentle giant. Much more purposeful dad-ing of the kids running around, and very subtle dad-ing of Ienzo bc Ienzo’s huffy and a bit touchy about the other apprentices treating him as a child or trying to care for him - Aeleus has a few theories as to why, but he’ll let the other keep his silence as he always has - and overall just trying to care for everyone and make up for the ten years in the Organization.

Favorite moment

Haurchefant: Much as I love/hate the Vault, and it is definitely up there - the way he and WoL just exchange a look and then go for it without having to say anything will forever be my favorite thing. But my actual favorite moments are in ARR when he both chastises you and praises you post-Shiva, and then after the banquet when he welcomes you and promises you safety, and then after the trial when he gives you the chocobo. It… I know everyone always thinks of the Big Thing, and “a smile better suits a hero” is engraved in everyone’s hearts, but my truly beloved moments are the smaller ones, and his quiet - or not so quiet as it may be - faith in us.

Estinien: Well his entrance into the Dragoon questline is hilarious, and his money trouble in Thavnair is equally so, but in terms of my actual favorite moments with him… honestly just, his conversation with Tiamat was good, but Vrtra. Gods his interactions with Vrtra are top tier. I can’t pick one, because everything from the first meeting with Varshahn where they both recognize each other and Estinien worries after him because of the scales, to the first real meeting where they call each other out and Estinien accepts the favor, to their conversations during the Final Days, and how Estinien goes out of his way to get Vrtra’s people to convince him to go after his sister… Estinien is so good with the dragons, especially Vrtra, and his scene in Ultima Thule in the world of dragons was just the perfect encapsulation of how much he’s grown. I love him so so much.

Joker: Favorite moment… I have to admit, I love the interrogation room, and the fact that Akira shows true vulnerability for the first time while still holding onto his rebellion as much as he can (refusing to sign and literally smacking the clipboard away, his little smirk at the end, etc.). He has other really good moments too - your first impression of him with his rush through the casino is excellent, as is his entire awakening scene and his refusing to let Maruki fall - but I think that one shows the most honest sides of him.

Haru: My favorite Haru moment… I guess it has to be her awakening, because it's lovely and her finally having enough and turning on her father - plus the drama of the awakening itself - was great. Oh, and her moment in Strikers when she says "We kind of hate the cops :)" is excellent. I liked her moments with Mariko in Strikers as well, but… they weren't as powerful as her awakening.

Zack: Just one? Ohhhh there's several that I love, but I think my top two are the end of CC when he gives Cloud the sword with his little spiel "You'll be my living legacy." Tied with that is his cameo in ACC, his encouragement of Cloud was wonderful "You've beat him before, haven't you?" Smaller moments - his interactions with Yuffie, his shenanigans with Aerith, his hurt at Angeal, and if course when he first meets Cloud - are wonderful and really flesh him out as a character, but those two are my uncontested top.

Tseng: Again I haven't gone through BC yet which apparently has some of his best moments, but of the stuff I have seen his scene with Cissnei is my favorite - his "we're going directly against orders here because Zack's our friend and Aerith misses him. Go get him back before the infantry." It's such a humanizing moment, and shows who he is beneath the Turk. But all his moments teasing Zack with the most dry humor are fun too.

Xaldin: Hmm it's hard to choose a canon one because he doesn't have many. The intro to his fight is awesome and I've always loved that. His moment in the added Org scene in the KH2.5 remix do an excellent job at setting the tone of the Organization, just casually throwing lances at coworkers it's fine. His minor scenes in BBS were fantastic because because they showed who he was before the Organization and the much more human sides of him (worried about Ven running off on his own, throwing Lea and Isa out of the castle with the most done look, etc) so those might be my favorite.

Lexaeus: I can't say the 358 scene introducing limit breaks because that's mean and not actually my favorite moment with him, but it is hilarious. Lexaeus no. Don't punch children even to trigger an LB. My actual favorite is probably either the same as Dilan - those BBS scenes are great - or in COM when he apologizes to Zexion for failing to stop Riku and then dying. Like. Ouch. There are layers to that, and really shows how much Lexaeus cares about the others even after years in the Organization without a heart.

Idea for a story

Haurchefant: I have many. So so many. I have lists. Tbh though I kind of want to see him interacting with G'raha, just the two of them talking about WoL's adventures and G'raha barely restraining his excitement about getting to talk to The Haurchefant. It'd be funny. Likewise I think it'd be fascinating for him into interact with Hythlodaeus, I think they'd get along. In terms of a canonical scene, I'm eventually going to write the scene where he finds out that Etheria is an au ra (she spends all of ARR with a cloak and mask to hide it), and then another with his reaction to the whole "dragon in disguise" thing because it'll be fun.

Estinien: Please give me stories about what he and Aymeric got up to as kids going through training. Give me their shenanigans and careful troublemaking. Give me Aymeric dragging him out of his shell, and Estinien picking fights with people who try to talk down and spread rumors about Aymeric. Give me them sneaking out of the barracks at night to go buy decent food from a vendor, or just hang out on a roof somewhere. Give me the snowball fight that ensues after Aymeric shoves snow down Estinien's shirt, or their squad mates getting annoyed at their unsubtle flirting. Give me the scene after we rescue Aymeric from the Vault and Estinien is helping tend his wounds, or after we rescue Estinien from Nidhogg where Aymeric is watching over him. Give me SB snapshots of Estinien coming to terms with exactly what he is now, and how he feels about it, or after we get back from Ultima Thule when he has to come to terms with what happened to the rest of the dragons and tell the ones here on our star. It's… there's so much potential with him, and I'm glad we're starting to explore it with Vrtra.

Joker: *Gestures to my 200k one-shot collection* I think I have a few. Tbh though I really want a snapshot fic of Akira working at Crossroads, getting comfortable with both the environment and getting into the crossdressing scene, having fun with it. It would be a lot of fun, and really sweet. Plus pretty dresses, and he canonically likes crossdressing anyway so like. Gimme more. Let him have fun.

Haru: I want a fic of her going after Sugimura. I'm still so mad we didn't go after him in Mementos for her confidant, and it definitely contributed to her confidant feeling weaker than the others’. I also want her to have a proper confrontation/conversation with Akechi about… everything. I know there are plenty of fics for it already, but I wanna do my own take eventually.

Zack: So I have a few I started and never finished… but for a new one, ghost au could be fun. Everyone always does "Zack lives", but it could be fun if Zack still died and just followed Cloud around as a ghost, and Cloud and Aerith are the only ones who can see him. Cloud would remember everything in this au, but that would not make he or Zack any less confused.

Tseng: A fic exploring what the Wutai war was like for him, and what his ties to Wutai even are. Does he care, or is he completely disconnected? For a less heavy idea, I want a fic with he and the other Turks trying increasingly desperate and convoluted methods to recruit Kunsel to the Turks, and failing every time.

Xaldin: I want to see him interacting with the keybladers post-3, just reluctantly being a parental/authority figure and cursing the fact that he cares and is going out of his way to help them with things. This is why he didn't want his heart back, dammit, now he cares about people.

Lexaeus: There's a couple I've thought of, but I want to see his thoughts during the Organization. His actions in CoM make it clear that he's still keeping an eye on Zexion - whether Zexion wants it or not - and he was as caring as he could be towards Vexen. I want to see what he thinks and what he's trying to do about his fracturing family during the days of the Organization.

Unpopular opinion

Haurchefant: Probably a bold opinion, but I'm glad that they haven't retconned his death even though people are calling for it. Fics are one thing - I an au where my WoL panic-soulbinds with him to keep him alive after all - but canon is its own thing and his sacrifice had far too heavy an impact and important to the story to be able to bring him back without ruining that whole scene and arc.

Estinien: He's not stupid. I know we all like to make the jokes about his money sense, the fact that he couldn't tell Alphinaud and Alisae apart, and the endless floor tank jokes, but Estinien isn't stupid. He was bad with money because he'd likely never had to spend it before - he was Ishgard's star soldier, after all, so they'd have supplied him with weapons and armor, plus rations, and the rest of the time he probably hunted for himself. He'd probably never had a lot of money to spend, going from farmboy to obsessive military weapon. The fact that he'd learned and overcome it by 6.1 makes that clear. And he's far from he first one to mistake Alphinaud and Alisae for the other - especially since he might not have even known that Alphinaud had an identical twin.

Joker: I don't like the "uwu gay softboi" fandom likes to foist on him. I like shuake, I ship it, but Joker is definitely not the type to pine helplessly to the exclusion of everything else going on. Like he has his soft moments, but - I don't know, I just hate when fandoms turn complex characters into one-dimensional ship fodder, or turn them into characters without the ability to stand up for themselves.

Haru: Haru wasn't a bad character, she wasn't pointless, and while her arc was the weakest I don't think removing it and her would have made the game better. She could have been handled much better, but she wasn't handled that badly.

Zack: Same as Estinien: Zack is not stupid. He's actually pretty smart! We see this several times throughout the game! Everyone looks at his personality at the beginning of the game, takes it at face value and then uses it as his whole personality and that's… not at all accurate. He's naive and reckless at the beginning of the game, but he grows out of it very quickly once Angeal leaves - and by the end of the game I'd say he's surpassed both Angeal and Genesis in both skill and general competence. One does not evade ShinRa for a year with a helpless, unconscious friend dragging him down, even with the occasional help of a single Turk - with significant intelligence and competence. Zack is smart, he's just a fourteen/fifteen year old at the very beginning of the game.

Tseng: Not sure this is unpopular by this point, but Tseng is definitely not heartless, and the only reason he's a "stalker" is because he's a government mandated one. He might be concerned about Aerith in general, but he (and the other Turks) wouldn't be following her around without orders. And there's at least one scene I know about in BC where he's chastised for being too caring and worried about others.

Xaldin: I don't… actually know of any fandom opinions about him? Fandom generally ignores him. 

Lexaeus: Same with this one, unless we're talking about the "attempting to murder a child in the name of training" jokes about Roxas, but I don't think I've actually seen anyone taking that seriously.

Favorite relationship

Haurchefant: Honestly his relationship with the WoL is just wonderful, no matter how you hc your WoL (and mine is particularly wonderful to me because of the layers involving them both). If we're talking about outside of WoL, his relationship with Aymeric is fascinating. We don't get to see much of it, and we never find out exactly how they view each other - be it actual friends or simply positive coworkers with the same views - but the scenes they are in together just have such interesting vibes that make me want to explore it.

Estinien: If you'd asked me before 6.1 I'd have said Aymeric without hesitation, but now I have to say that it's Aymeric tied with Vrtra. His big-little brother relationship with Alphinaud is cute, and his terror of Tataru and Krile is hilarious, but Aymeric and Vrtra are still my two favorite to see by far. WAIT NO I FORGOT. ALSO GAIUS. He and Gaius are fascinating, I want to see a whole fic/side story of what they were up to during SHB and how they got along, how they worked together. What little we saw was both badass and fun, and I want to see more.

Joker: Hmmm canonically I have to say that Akechi and Futaba are tied, though he has really interesting relationships with most of his confidants and if we're talking outside the Thieves then Sojiro, Iwai, and Ohya/Lala are my favorites. For slightly less canonically (sort of), his relationships with the other wildcards are FANTASTIC. Q2 was so much fun. In general, he and Yu are my favorite relationship to write just in general because there's so much to explore. So many layers for both of them.

Haru: Hmm probably either Morgana or Akechi. Granted we never get to see much of either in canon (#giveharuscreentime) but in terms of potential she and Akechi are the most interesting to me. Her friendship with Mona is adorable, and I love how supportive they are of each other. In that respect, she and Ryuji are a close second.

Zack: Oh man, this one's a close tie between Cloud and Aerith. They're both so great, layered and emotional and angsty. My favorite underrated relationship though is Zack and Kunsel, hands down.

Tseng: I'd have to say Rufus, because there's so much going on behind the scenes there that we never see, but that is absolutely there and is probably really cool and involves a lot of underhandedness and political maneuvering that would be so much fun to see. Rufus' relationship to all the Turks is really interesting, but especially Tseng since Tseng would have been the most involved.

Xaldin: Hmmm most of the relationships are… not actually ever shown in canon. We get glimpses and implications, but we don’t actually get to see them. Generally I love seeing the apprentices being family in fic, and the idea of Dilan reluctantly being a parental figure to the younger keybladers post-3 is fun.

Lexaeus: Same problem as above, but from both fics and my own hcs I really like the potential of his relationship with Ienzo - from the time he was a small child, through the Organization, and post 3. He definitely seems like the one Zexion trusted the most - probably because he let Zexion do what he wanted, whereas Vexen was a meddler who stuck his nose into things - so it’s fun to consider how he watched out for him through the years even when everything else had fallen apart.

Favorite headcanon

Haurchefant: Ohhh this one I’m torn, I have two. The first is semi-canonical, and that he’s a chocobo breeder - he loves his birds and found a lot of solace in their company when the pressure and judgement of being a claimed bastard became too much for him to handle, and he’d retreat to the stables to calm down and recuperate. The second one is that he and Aymeric are actually closer than we see in canon - they’re just really subtle about it because the rumors about Aymeric are unconfirmed and Haurchefant won’t be the one to shine a spotlight on his friend. But there’s shared understanding there, and they’re fairly close friends because of it.

Estinien: This is honestly only headcanon by the thinnest of veils, it’s basically canon, we just don’t get the details. But I like the idea that Estinien’s merge was more than just that he saw Nidhogg’s mind, but that their very souls merged. Maybe not as completely as Shiva and Hraesvelgr, but Estinien is as much or more dragon than he is elezen by this point, his very soul is part Nidhogg’s. He’s… kind of a combination of Estinien and who Nidhogg used to be, the noble soul who protected the star that he was before rage consumed him. So Estinien now is the combination of who the two of them were before they lost themselves to revenge, and he acknowledges that even if he won’t… quite openly admit it. (“Then you and Alphinaud threw my eyes off the bridge, and I’ve never known peace since.” NOT VERY SUBTLE THERE ESTINIEN.)

Joker: While this shouldn’t be hc, it apparently is because Atlas is cowards. Akira has severe trauma from the interrogation room. Don’t touch his wrists, don’t hold him down, not to mention the nightmares, needles, certain phrases (tell him to take responsibility for his reactions and you’re at risk of triggering a panic attack)… and he does not like or trust the police. Period. If you’re in uniform you’re an enemy, and if you want him to trust you you’re going to have to work damn hard for it.

Haru: She’s resentful towards Akechi for taking her opportunity with her father, she’s angry at him… but she doesn’t actually hate him. She wants to, she really does, but he’s… he’s too similar to her, both his situation and his feelings, and she can understand why he did what he did. She hates that she does, that she can’t hate him, and that she really does want to forgive him, but… she really can’t bring herself to hate him. She doesn’t forgive him, even if part of her wants to, because it wasn’t fair and she can at least hold onto that. (In aus where he lives, she decides that the best revenge is to be genuinely kind and caring and unconditionally warm to him, because it makes him intensely uncomfortable and alarmed. Being bitter and spiteful and angry would be letting him win, giving him what he wanted. This was more rewarding, and kind of funny. Not many people looked like they wanted to run out of the building when confronted with a genuine smile.)

Zack: He’s smart, and is perfectly capable of being a manipulative little shit when he needs to be. He can also tell pretty easily when someone is lying to him - once Angeal and Genesis smack the rose-tinted glasses off of him in Banora, he becomes intensely and uncomfortably aware of every little lie and omission and corruption within ShinRa told to him. He tries his best to ignore it, but… well, by the time Nibelheim happens ShinRa’s reaction isn’t even a surprise. He wouldn’t have expected anything less, really.

Tseng: I don’t… really have many? He’s incredibly loyal to Rufus, and despises Hojo and the President, but those are basically canon anyway.

Xaldin: He won’t admit it, but he’s weak for kids. Lea and Isa were annoying as hell, but he was grudgingly fond of both of them (right up until they got themselves killed, sticking their nose into danger that never should have been theirs to contend with - it should have been his. His and Aeleus and Braig and Even, those two and Ienzo never should have gotten involved.) After 3, Xion, Roxas, Namine, Ven, and Kairi make him cave to things far too easily for his comfort. Kairi especially, hanging around Radiant Gardens again as she is, brings up far to many memories of lost days for him.

Lexaeus: I don’t… really have many for him? He also really likes kids, though he isn’t a tsundere about it, and even through the Organization was worried and caring about his family. Broken apart and jagged though they were, at least they were still here for him to keep an eye on. It was good that he died before Zexion though - if he hadn’t he would have reacted very badly, and would have been even more incredibly guilty when he woke back up after DDD.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 319

Ouroboros/Resolution

“Ouroboros”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean are on the hunt for a demigod with a taste for human flesh who can see the future

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I guess it would all depend on whether or not this demigod would deem me edible, wouldn’t it?

Why did I think they were on the hunt for selfish reasons? Like using his powers to see the future

Damn, all five of them are there? (Dean, Sam, Cas, Jack, AND Rowena)

Poor Jack has to defend every cough as not dying from now on

Rowena caring enough to at least ask about the welfare of Jack and Dean. I don’t want to say it almost ruins her, but I liked her more heartless

Ah, fuck, Jack. You can’t be dying again

God, Cas hates plan B to defeating Michael so much

Please tell me that she didn’t turn Jack into a dog. Omg she did. She turned Jack into a dog so he could get antivenom from a veterinarian

Omg. If this was any show but supernatural I’d love this gorgon. Here, it just feels like an exaggerated stereotype that comes off a little homophobic, and honestly, the comments about misogyny don’t land either

Where was everyone the past few episodes? The people from apocalypse world disappear whenever it’s convenient…or rather when it’s inconvenient to have them there

Oh. Oh fuck. No….Dean being knocked unconscious after his talk with Cas about how he can never let his guard down in regards to Michael trying to get out??

Omg Jack, stop using that magic. Stop wasting your soul

The PANIC in Castiel’s voice trying to help Dean 😩

Oh no. Well, on one hand, guess we don’t have to worry about whether it’s convenient or not to have the apocalypse world group around…they all appear to be dead. Michael got out and seems to be vessel hopping maybe? And killing every last one of them

Omg Rowena!Michael?!?! Michael!!! It’s not consent if you coerced her to be your vessel

How much of his — um. Hey. Well, Jack finally killed Michael but what’s the cost? Unless when one of them said “Jack?” And he answered “Michael. He’s dead, that meant Jack was dead?? But then why say “I’m me again”? But then the wings?! I’m confused

“Resolution”

Plot Description: as the new year begins, a terrible evil stirs from across the centuries on planet Earth

Why…hey why are they “passed into legend, and legend became myth, and some things that should not have been forgotten were lost”-ing this opening for whatever great evil thing had to be split into three parts and sent to the far reaches of the world?

Girl, preach! New years is not it.

Awww, these two kissed and are now having an awkward yet adorable conversation about it because they really like each other

I don’t think we should be digging the other pieces up, but that’s just me

Why is the TARDIS all of a sudden breaking things when it lands in people’s homes? I just still think they’re giving Jodie the short end of the straw

Why’s Ryan’s dad here? (Is a thought just about everyone is having)

Yeah, Graham!! Ok but….like, yes, it’s fine to have Graham tell Ryan’s father that he hasn’t done his job as a father because it’s (from what we’ve been told) true. HOWEVER, the optics of this old white dude calling Ryan “son” in front of his biological father when both father and son are black and it potentially plays into stereotypes…I just don’t like that.

What is wrong with this lady? What the actual fuck is on her—um…um. I’m sorry. It’s just. It’s some kind of tentacle monster that can fit under her clothes somehow AND it has control of her brain and motor functions?? There is DEFINITELY hentai of this. Poor girl, just wanted to kiss her colleague

Ok I thought it looked a little internal Dalek-y

Oh hell yeah, Ryan! You love to see him saying his dad can’t demand respect from him. Get all that off your chest, bestie!!!!!!! Omg, this is heartbreaking to see him have to go through this.

Oh good, it’s a scout dalek so it has extra special abilities

OOOO!!! Are we gonna get Kate?! Nope. UNIT operations have been suspended due to what sounded like budgetary constraints. Great.

Ok. There is room for forgiveness and moving forward in the Ryan’s family drama

I love when women do blacksmithing things. Just gorgeous. AND she somehow fought off the dalek??

Oh it did a pretty good job rebuilding itself

Pffft, Graham couldn’t take any more of his son in law by himself so he called up the Doctor to pick him up

Ugh the casual hatred of modern times. This Dalek shut down all communications in England and when people start noticing there’s no WiFi, no phones, no Netflix, and they have to have conversations they’re disgusted? 🙄🙄🙄

Ohhhhh, THAT’S why Ryan’s dad was all of a sudden present, and they were looking to move forward into better relationships with each other. So he could get possessed by the Dalek

Horrifying that she allowed a Dalek onto the TARDIS

Oh good, I’m really glad they didn’t kill off Ryan’s dad, whether through the possession or conscious sacrifice

[yukimiyaz]

ok fang i am. so sorry but i had so much to say so i am going to just. put it here JEBSJD

“Though the whole aloof and distant thing does the job just fine, Gojo can’t help but wonder what such a clever creature is doing, turning away from living lavishly.” this line had me blinking and nodding and i really like it. i like this opening. i like this analogy so much, i like how you’ve described this perplexity. very very nice to me

“Today, Gojo is intrigued by the dog that lives on the street of his apartment and the strange woman who’s petting it like some sort of domesticated baby. He’s very, very intrigued by that.” OH. OH YEAH. YEAH I LOVE THE EMPHASIS HERE……..

“Reaching his hand towards the dog, who sniffs and cuddles his palm (something it’s never done before) in order to win your favor more. It really is a clever little thing, just like he’d always suspected.” this will be the death of me oh my god. ‘it really is a clever little thing’ OH MY GOFSJWID???????

“You’re not even conscious of him as a man, cemented to him  by the one time you came to the door dressed in paper-thin PJ’s.” this made me snort so loud this is so funny PLEASE poor dumb goj

“He’s not a bitter person, but he’s not an earnest one either. So Gojo likes that you’re so properly, gently sincere.” god…… GOD THIS LINE IS JUST. UUHGHH. so perfect. sosooooo perfect for him i’m gonna lose my mind this is it. IT!!!

“It was another thing he learns about himself through you. Being fussed about is refreshing.” learning about himself through reader like she’s the fucking instruction manual to his soul this made me claw my bed sheets. fuckkksjjwdjdj

“It’s like some sort of miracle (aren’t you always one?) when Gojo hears his phone ring, buzzing against his abdomen.” shutup. SHUTUP SHUTUP SHUTUPPPSISJD

him paying the rest of the dog fees stop. IM FUCKING LOSING IT HELLO OF COURSE HE DID. OF COURSEIWHSJDD

“Maybe it’s something in the air. The damp weather out closer to the ocean, or the distance between you. There’s a tiny echo in your words, mechanical through the speakers. The word hero leaves a melancholy in his mouth, floating in the back of his throat like liquor refusing to go down. He chuckles.” kill me now. just put me out of my misery i beg this just stripped me of my clothes and robbed me of my lunch money WHATSBDBD

asking about heroes and the admission of falling and the “is that so?” what the FUCK FANGSIEHEJDHDHDJD IM GONNA HURL OHHSHEHEJDHD

“(A small, small  part of him is only asking because he doesn’t like how distracted you are from him. Killing the curse seems like it’d relieve that annoyance too.)” GOD he’s so FUCKING FULL of himself i want to wring his neck i want to stare at him for hours i want to suck him down like a straw

“He’s excited watching your fearful tremble. He’s never seen you like that.” what a sick fucking bastard GOD

PLEASE THE “are you a celebrity?” i giggled. and the follow up of “Another lie of omission. The strongest, he should say.” OOOUHGHH. the rough contrast between them even with this newfound connection is so riveting gahhh

THE EMPHASIS ON VULNERABLE. WHAG THE FUCK. WHAT FHE FUCKEJWHSDJ FANG U MAD MAN I AM SHAKING U BY THE SHOULDERS PLEADE. PLEASEEKSHDD

““I’ll be your personal Superman.” He promises, making a silly expression trying to make you laugh. It feels good when he succeeds, the weight of his words softened by it. If you feel how heavy the comment is, it doesn’t show up on your face. “ nothing to add just this is. this is so ……….,,.

“Gojo enjoys that. For anyone else, it’s probably a twisted way to think about it but to Gojo it only feels natural. He doesn’t examine that detachment very deeply. He’s just aware of it, lingering in the back of his head.” god this is clawing at my skull i’m going to gnaw through my hand. “it only feels natural” HELLO. OF COURSE IT DOES. IM SO UNWELL

“Lately, the only thing that Gojo seems to react to is you.” i’m throwing myself off of a bridge .

the anxiety in the prompt box stuck out so well to me idk i like it. i like the detail here. i love this. ur so good

curse in the form of a dog oh my god. OHHHSKUWEJDJDJ I AM like the crazy guy w the plot points and hair ripped out meme this is me THIS IS SOSOEHEJD

“Should you be sympathizing with me?” / “Doesn’t matter. I just do.” HELLO. HELLOOOSJEHEJ this is so. god it’s just so him. he does simply because he does. blunt. no explanation. no justification. no care for normalities. goooooddddddd

“I can tell you're like me.  That's why your aura is so tainted and… fucked up and  malicious. It should be crystalline blue kinda like spring water—but it’s muddy. Rigid.” / “What are you talking about?” / “The fact you’re hanging on by a thread. You can feel it too, right?“ OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCKSKHSSK

“You know, it’s funny. Everyone thinks dogs are loyal to their masters, but that’s because we made them that way. We can’t stand being alone or unloved so we made something that can do both without ever seeing any less of us.” i’m going to fucking kill myself what the FUCK oh my god. it’s goj. it’s gojo it’s fucking him im gonna scream i’m gonna hurl

“He keeps it friendly. Too much pushing and you’ll skitter away right before his eyes.” god he’s so calculating and enticing and plotting it’s just so unnerving i want to pick and pry his brain apart

“There has to be a next time. If he forgets to tell himself as much, he gets so restless he can hardly stand.” i want crawl inside of his skin. i’m so sorry i want to defile him even worse than he defiles reader . sorry

“Your head is turned to the menu and Gojo trails behind you like a shadow. One to compliment all your light.” this is so nice. so very nice if nothing changes this will probably be my favorite line from here omg. i’m obsessed. this wording this cadence i’m >>>>

him trying to keep an eye on her at school is both hopelessly endearing and endlessly creepy and both drive me so insane

“Gojo hates whoever this is. Gojo wants to save you. He thinks you deserve to be saved.” i think i just blacked out a little at this line. Sorry

“Gojo can see it now. With a little pressure, he could turn the blade of his shoulder in sawdust and watch him fall to his knees. He’d let out a cry, a sharp pathetic wail like a hit dog. Gojo would make him say sorry to you before he lets up his hand from his skin. He’d do it infront of everyone in the store so they could hold a little fear in their hearts.” WHAT THE FUCKSHWWIDHSJS I AM GOING FERAL. SORRY. SORRY IM DROOLING SORRY. THIS IS SICK HES SICK IM SICK I WANT HIM

“You….knew?” / “Not about him specifically, but I could tell something was bothering you,” He admits, and then adds “I always pay attention to my favorite person, you know?” hes so fucking. ugh. UGH?!!&/$::!

“In a world that you have made beautiful, desire is ugly. Hideous and infectious, it tears Gojo limb from limb. It makes Gojo feel on edge. Gojo should not desire for any more than what he was. People always die when he does. / But maybe they don’t have to. Maybe, he can protect you. He can keep you safe. He wants to keep you safe. He wants to keep you all to himself.” i love this. this is so good. so so so good

“And Gojo thinks the call of heaven is nothing in comparison to the sound.” OH MY GOD. THIS LINE TORE MY HEART RIGHT OUT OF MY CHEST PLEASE. PLEASE I THINK THIS MIGHT ACTUALLY BE MY FAVE LINE IT IS DOINF SOMETHINF SO TERRIBLY AWFUL TO ME ….

“Gojo’s love is divine, not right. There’s nothing in this world Gojo can’t shield you from, because he’s the strongest.” sick. SICK SICK SICK

“(Gojo would find you. But the chase means there’s some time you’re apart. The thought is almost nauseating.)” fang .

“Honeytraps are more ethical than nets.” HELLO. YEAH UHM YEA ?!/?/&:!:

“Gojo Satoru decides to play God on a Sunday.” THE NOISE AND LOOK ON MY FACE AS I READ THIS MY EYES ARE BUGGING MY JAW IS DROPPED I CANT EXPLAIN THE VISCERAL FEELINF INSIDE OF ME AT THIS TIMING AND PERFECTION. HELLO ..

“did you know?” I KNOW IM SPIRALING. ACTUALLY

““Do you think I’m a devil? An angel? God? I wonder,” Gojo says, staring. With his mask on, but his eyes opened wide. “Guess I’m kind of like a boogeyman,”” i need to lie down. I NEED TO LIE DOWN SIX FEET UBDER ACTUALLT HELLO GOJO LET ME HAVE AT U FOR FIVE SECONDS IM GOING FUCKIN INSANE

“A dog barks distantly, over and over and over. Gojo watches the sun rise alone.” this made my bones feel heavy i am going to . keel over

““Maybe. Otherwise…guess it was God’s divine punishment,” He says, continuing to grade papers. He doesn’t even look up as he says it. You let out a puff of air through your nose in amusement. / “Yeah,” You say, “Maybe. I should thank him some time,” / Gojo hums. / “I don’t think that’s a bad idea,”” HEY. HEYY????,!!? I DONT THINK THATS A BAD IDEA?????? idk if this is what u are implying so if it isn’t PKEASE tell me to shut the fuck up but the way i am reading this is gojo’s half hearted thought of reader thanking god - thanking HIM - because that is the role he has so eagerly stepped into and robed himself for just for the sake of reader’s precious little life and i am going to claw my EYES OUT OVER IT

FANG……fang beloved i am so enraptured by ur writing always but there is something about this fic that is so . mind wracking that it is genuinely keeping me so on edge. i’m so enthralled and intrigued and compelled by every single line and every single thought in gojo’s head and every single line drawn. oh my fuck i cannot wait to get to read the second part. i know i will only fall in love w this story further. ur so good. so so so good. ugh

HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO

⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)

⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.

all sexual content present in part two.

⊹ wc ; 17.3k / 36.1k

link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.

LINK TO PART TWO

⊹ a/n ; well. its here. i wont ramble too much but i hope you enjoy and if you dont...well don't tell me. thank you to ame for your endless patience. likes and reblogs mean the world. the title is inspired by the poem linked.

⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.

“Of course you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love.” - andrew kane, how to be a dog.

⊹ PART ONE : A CHILD BORN IN WINTER MUST NOT LONG FOR SPRING.

There’s a dog living outside of Gojo’s apartment. It’s a collarless, lonely thing. Clever, too. 

Though, Gojo doesn’t know much about its life before it started hanging around the area, he gets glances on occasion. It’s not emaciated and it doesn’t look hungry, but it’s roughened up with matted fur and a healed tear in one ear. 

More importantly, it doesn’t bother anybody in the neighborhood. Despite its outward appearance and hostility when approached, its aggression won’t go farther than a warning bark or growl. Most of the adults living in the building know better than to try, but some of the kids living upstairs desperately attempt to befriend it. Of course they fail, and Gojo thinks that that poor thing is growing apathetic to the touches of sticky hands. 

The whole building is pretty fond of it, surprisingly. Gojo lives in a upend complex in a metropolitan part of Tokyo and the people here can be snobbish. So it comes as a shock that this dog wasn’t shooed away months ago. 

Everyones sort of agreed to take care of it. There’s a food and water bowl outside of the security office - and just last week a sign was implemented of Do’s and Don’ts for what food scraps can be left. There’s a donation box to get some proper shots and paperwork - since it looks like the building's doorman has agreed to take it in if everyone chips in for the expenses.

(Gojo suspects this has something to do with those very kids, devastated by the thought of it being gone.)

Warm welcomes from the residents aside, Gojo hasn’t seen it act friendly before. He wonders about that.  It seems hesitant to trust anyone and he’s sure there's a good reason. It’s just that it's clever. To be a stray in this area of Tokyo and be so calm is an impressive feat, so he thinks it probably has some grasp of his own situation. If it acted cuter, it could get a warm house and family too. Though the whole aloof and distant thing does the job just fine, Gojo can’t help but wonder what such a clever creature is doing, turning away from living lavishly. 

Much like everyone else, Gojo’s contributions have come in the form of food scraps and some donation money to work towards the 5,000 yen goal. On the occasion their paths cross, Gojo sits near it. Sometimes, they share a moment of silence and Gojo talks just to see if it’ll ignore him. It seems like it’s listening. It always makes a grunt of dismissal when Gojo turns to leave and he’s started to count that as a little victory. 

Gojo isn’t intrigued by anything as much as that dog. At least not lately. It’s damn near impossible to seriously pique his interest and yet that clever fellow is one of the few things he stops to ponder at. 

Today, Gojo is intrigued by the dog that lives on the street of his apartment and the strange woman who’s petting it like some sort of domesticated baby.

He’s very, very intrigued by that. 

The rain comes down in heavy sheets. It’s a Wednesday, and he has no classes to teach so he’s home and preparing to run errands. He’s going about his day as usual, basically. When Gojo isn’t swamped with a mission or the reformation of Jujutsu Society - he likes to play the part of the average man. 

The plan for today was to take his unused car out of the lot so he could get some dry-cleaning done, go buy a new pair of sunglasses because his old ones are scratched, and go do some shopping. He needs to buy groceries again ( an uncommon occurrence) so that one's on the list too. 

He’s dressed down. A black windbreaker is hanging over his shoulders, tight gray shirt and some comfortable jeans. He’s got on his errand shoes, a nice pair of sneakers and his keys are hanging from a loop in his belt. His hair is styled down and he’s got on his glasses instead of his typical mask.

He has a gameplan, a fully fleshed out expectation of how today will go, and it’s derailed by a woman he’s never seen before. He’s drawn to you so naturally it’s baffling. 

You’re crouched just in front of the security office. Dressed in a loose skirt and long sleeves, looking down by the local neighborhood stray. For the first few seconds, he just lingers on in utter awe. You’re carrying a comically cute umbrella, clear with flowers and a pink edge. He kind of thinks you look like a peony. 

He approaches slowly, quietly. 

When he finally gets close enough to really see, he can hardly believe his eyes. That old, menacing mutt is happily getting his chin scratched by you. 

“Oh, uhm. Hello?” 

The sound of your voice startles him out of his trance. Snapping back to reality, he glances down to where you are and realizes he’s towering over you. In an effort to be polite, he steps back and gives you his most disarming smile. 

“Hi. Sorry for the intrusion, I was just,” He glances at the dog who almost looks offended at the interruption “I noticed you were… petting this dog. Guess I was a little surprised.” 

“Surprised?” 

And your surprise surprises him even more. He blinks slowly. 

“Yeah. He’s not aggressive or anything but uh,” Gojo chuckles, concluding you must be a little new “Well, he’s not exactly friendly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone succeed in well…petting him.” 

You’re taken aback by this information. Yeah, definitely new. 

“Really?” You glance at Gojo before looking back down at it “I just gave him some treats and waited a bit. He’s such a sweetie. Sure you mean this dog?” 

Gojo gets a good laugh out of that. Partially at your cluelessness and partially at your disbelief. He nods, smiling a little. 

“I’m very sure, actually. He must really like you,” He says, hands in his pockets. He bends down to join you, but he’s still a little bigger than you at that height “I guess I can see why. You’re pretty friendly.” 

You peek over at him. You seem a little shy at the compliment. Gojo feels his interest pique a second time today alone. New record. 

“Oh, uh. Thank you. I teach kindergarteners so I sort of have to be.” 

He hums. Reaching his hand towards the dog, who sniffs and cuddles his palm (something it’s never done before) in order to win your favor more. It really is a clever little thing, just like he’d always suspected.

“I’m a teacher too. A highschool teacher, though. No need for me to be friendly, I guess.” 

You laugh at his joke, smile reaching your eyes as you hug your knees to look at him.

“You seem plenty friendly to me.” 

He pretends to think about it. 

“Maybe you have a gift for making people come out of their shell,” He says with sincerity, relishing in the fact he’s finally getting to pet the dog in any capacity “I think this little guy could probably attest to that.”

“And you have a knack for flattery.” You quip. 

The natural chemistry is noticeable enough for it to catch Gojo off-guard. He grins. 

“Hey. I’m not all bad. And what's flattery if I’m being honest right?” 

“Sounds like something a flirt would say,” You tease, airy. He laughs a little. 

“You seem like you’re having fun giving me a hard-time.” He pouts. You giggle. 

“A little,” 

“Jeez. How rude of you…” He waits, prompting your name. You smile. 

You give him your name. You say it soft and easy. He makes sure to return to the favor. 

“And yours?” 

“Gojo Satoru.” 

__

You live up to your first impression in the time that Gojo gets to know you as his neighbor. 

Friendly. The word he’s looking for is friendly. 

There’s other words though. Sometimes meek, typically cheery, oftentimes quiet. You’re quite unassuming, and possibly too gentle when compared to everyone else in the general area. You fit in fine, no worries there. And Gojo knows that for certain because he can’t stop himself from watching over you like a hawk. 

He doesn’t really understand it himself. Gojo gets along with everyone. He’s always been a people person who likes to talk and likes to get to know strangers. There’s nothing that special about your connection in that way. You live next to him, directly across the hall.  You often knock on his door to give him something that you’ve made too much of or ask to borrow some sugar 

And it’s not done with any romantic intent. Gojo is good at reading people. He’s never seen someone so blatantly  romantically uninterested in him. You’re not even conscious of him as a man, cemented to him  by the one time you came to the door dressed in paper-thin PJ’s. He hasn’t recovered from the shock. One of the many times in his life where he was grateful no one could see where he was looking. 

He’s had a few months since your first meeting to get an idea of your personality and what things about you he should keep in mind. You noticed that he’s often not in his house, so you’re relatively aware of your surroundings. You’re often up late because your lights are always on well into the evening. 

(He finds out later you’re usually making lesson plans or little gift bags or planning birthdays. You really love your job, something he can commend while simultaneously  feeling quite jealous about.) 

You favor the lovely spring colors like pink and purple because you have so much of it always on you. You dress brightly in general. And you smile, often, and stumble over yourself trying to be nice to the other tenants. The kids in the building adore you. The sheer amount of propositions you’ve received to be someone's full-time nanny could probably keep you employed for another two decades. 

And you always put your best into everything, no matter what. 

This is probably the aspect Gojo is most fascinated by. It’s not exactly a novel trait. He’s encountered something like it before. One of his most prized students is Maki Zenin. Her whole thing is kicking ass through sheer spite. 

But unlike his students or anyone else he knows - you don’t seem to be motivated by spite or anger or frustration. Even when you are angry or upset - you always force yourself into being more understanding. Into being nice, kind, and still giving it your best if you’ve been shorted somehow. He’s tempted to call you a try-hard. It draws on the line of people pleasing sometimes but it doesn’t matter either way. This is a quality in you Gojo likes all the same. 

He's always been drawn to people who are earnest. His company favors such things. He cherishes Yuuji for such a reason, and can say something similar for Nanami. It’s a refreshing perspective. He’s not a bitter person, but he’s not an earnest one either. So Gojo likes that you’re so properly, gently sincere. 

For the last few months he’s made a real effort to talk to you. So he’s not just the guy next door, but at least an acquaintance and at best a distant friend. On the mornings you both have classes to teach, he walks you to your car and if he wakes up before you - he’ll bring you a cup of coffee or a pastry he knows you enjoy.  

You’ll often do Gojo little favors and he’ll return them - joking to each other about being a good neighbor. An inside joke with each other that Gojo is growing increasingly fond of, all together with leftover cups of coffee and glances that linger too long. Some mornings, he takes out your trash when you’re feeling too tired and you’ll do him the favor of getting the stuff out of his clothes that he doesn’t want to dry-clean. 

It’s these little exchanges that make up the bulk of your interactions. 

He’s even been to your apartment (another reason he’s sure you’re not attracted to him). He went last week to help you cut out little autumn leaves to put on your classroom walls, and you rewarded him with some lemonade. 

He’s still thinking about it days later, how you sit on your legs and the way your cardigan hangs off your shoulder. When you’re focused, you leave your mouth open a bit and poke your tongue through your lips. He’s endeared by it. 

 By you in general.

It’s all boring and mundane, but that’s what makes it. It’s a luxury he rarely affords. Craves, really, which is why he’s starting to go straight home more often than not.

It’s nice that you’re always there. That you’re usually home and when you’re not - Gojo doesn’t have to guess too hard about where you are. It’s so constant. He basks in the feeling of constancy like an expensive silk. 

It’s little luxuries like that, he thinks, that make you so special to Gojo without much effort on your behalf. Being up at the top means he is always fascinated by the place closest to the ground. 

What’s heaven to a man born there?

__ 

In your fourth official month of residence, the neighborhood dog finally gets adopted. 

He’s not there for the big reveal. He hears it from you while he’s on a mission, through a text message and a photo. He acquired your number early on, but you’ve only started doing these text exchanges recently. Reason being Gojo’s had an unusual amount of cases that need his attention and you’ve been very aware of his absence.  

(The first time you texted Gojo after 3 days on the other side of the country, he was scarily happy. After all, most times when he leaves - people are expecting his return.  There’s an assurance that he will return alive, that he has to. It’s not often people worry.

It was another thing he learns about himself through you. Being fussed about is refreshing.) 

Currently, he’s all the way down in Nagasaki. He’s been investigating what the local government has described as an “infestation in the water,” leading to poison and all sorts of hallucination. It’s been causing all of the local hospitals to fill up and the news is advising people to distill their water if possible when at home. Make sure to buy bottled, and double check on your children. 

In other words, there’s an unidentified curse wreaking havoc in small towns and rural areas at an unusually fast rate and Gojo has been sent to figure out its origin. What’s really weird is the location. He’s in Nagasaki prefecture, specifically in Hasami - a town in the Higashisonogo district. He really didn’t have much time to do research on the area, save for a few quick google searches and probing questions to his student, the well traveled Yuta Okkutsu who is a hair more familiar with the region than he is. 

But there wasn’t much for him to find. Hasami is known for the porcelain it produces. The population is a little under 15,000 and the weather is nicer in spring than it is in summer where it gets too humid. It’s considered a small town, though that number is relative in consideration, and currently the local officials are sending off reports about the water supply. 

Even when doing deep research using official means, there was nothing that unusual about the place. No major criminal incidents or occult presence or some other thing that would make this occur naturally. Gojo is no stranger to small town violence or bullying and they can often produce the most volatile curses.

But he’s currently on his 3rd day here, where he’s taken up talking with the locals and he can’t find any specific attitude that would foster a special grade. 

It had led him to a conclusion,  but one he was deliberately avoiding. That someone planted the curse here in Nagasaki, or maybe somewhere else. Which really complicates the whole affair, because then this is an investigation and not just a situation of fate. It also means that this curse was likely harvested somewhere and that Gojo can’t be sure it’ll be easy to get rid of. 

Most importantly, all that fanfare means he’ll be home late. 

Given how much he’s longing to see you, it’s the thing he’s been dreading most. 

It’s weird. He’s never dying to see anyone, with the exception of an old friend long gone. But Gojo has been desperate to see you for the few weeks he’s been away from home. 

(He can’t tell if it’s normal to long this much for a person he truthfully doesn’t know that well.) 

But, while he’s away from home, the thoughts of you play on loop in his head. Like white noise, static yet constant -  there, all the same.  As he walks the rainy streets of Hasami, hands in his pockets - he can’t help but wonder when the next time he gets to see you will be

It’s like some sort of miracle (aren’t you always one?) when Gojo hears his phone ring, buzzing against his abdomen. 

He’s drawn back into reality when he feels it. In front of a store that sells handmade plates and glasses, he lets it go for a while. Feels it buzz against his pocket while he settles his thoughts. He examines his surroundings,  notices the cars, and the mother with her daughter across the street and the gray sky - all before he picks it up. Your name flashes him on screen, and something itches deep in his chest.

The clouds open up. And it’s still raining, but there’s a ray of sunlight cutting through them. For a minute Gojo feels worldly, grinning with damp skin before he slides his thumb across the phone. 

You’ve never called him before. 

“Hello?” He greets, wondering if it was an accident. Then you come through the other side of the line.

“Hi ~,” You say, clearly doing something in the midst of talking “How’ve you been?” 

“I’ve been alright. Very shocked you called me, yanno?”

You laugh quietly. 

“Sorry about that. I just wanted to check in. And I wanted to say thank you.” 

“I mean… I’ll accept but I feel like I should know what for.” He jokes. Your tone goes sincere, marshmallow soft and twice as sweet. 

“You paid the rest of the fees for the dog out of pocket, didn’t you?” 

He smiles to himself.

“Ah. Busted. That was supposed to be a secret between me and Mr. Security-Man,” 

“He didn’t tell me. I just…guessed. Seems like something you’d do.” 

His first instinct is to disagree.

“It’s not like I did it out of the goodness of my heart, okay? It was looking a little sad sleeping during the cold seasons. It was very pitiful. So bad, so sad.” 

“Why’d you do it?” You ask, probing but not too deeply “Like… really. It was really nice of you, but it was a couple thousand and that can’t be cheap.”

He relents, head leaning back on the wall behind him. 

“The kids, remember?” He murmurs, eyes staring up at the gray clouds “You said they’d be sad if the dog didn’t get adopted soon.” 

“The way you’re talking about it makes it seem like you’re doing this for me.” 

“And if I was? Would that bother you, hm?” 

You wait a minute, hesitating with your words. 

“Well…no. I guess not, I just—thank you. I guess I’m just a little… embarrassed about it or whatever.” 

“Shy, huh? Cute.”

“Jeez,” You huff. Gojo can practically hear your grinning from the other side; it makes his heart flutter. He wants to go home, to wherever you are “And you always say you’re no flirt.” 

“I’m not a flirt. I’m just telling it how it is.” 

“Yeah? Well, thanks anyway then. It made them really happy. You should’ve been there to see it. Maybe you can tell them when you get back?” 

“Don’t wanna.” He states outright. 

“You didn’t even think about it!” You exclaim.

“Mm, because I don’t have to. I definitely don’t want them to know.” 

“Why not, though? You’d be their hero, y’know? 

Maybe it’s something in the air. The damp weather out closer to the ocean, or the distance between you. There’s a tiny echo in your words, mechanical through the speakers. The word hero leaves a melancholy in his mouth, floating in the back of his throat like liquor refusing to go down. He chuckles. 

“Ooo, are you into that kinda thing? Like, super charming knights in shining armor? Or superheroes, maybe?” 

You giggle on the other side of the line. If you notice him avoiding answering you, you have the courtesy not to say anything.

“Isn’t everyone? I don’t know. I think if a really good-looking guy saved my life, it’d probably make my heart race a little, yeah. I’d catch feelings over that for sure.” 

He takes a deep breath. Everything smells like rain. 

“Is that so?” He says, chest blooming with warmth “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

__

Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed. 

He was out there for a long time, at least longer than usual when he’s traveling for a mission. He’s not used to hitting so many dead ends. The problem kept growing, but every trail he’d uncovered went cold in about a day. Just before he gave up hope, he was called in by Yagi. Since the issue has spread into other parts of the city, it’s no longer his solo jurisdiction. 

More hands on meant more time for Gojo to be teaching. It also meant that he would finally see you after so long. You waited for him outside the day he returned to Tokyo - wearing a cream colored sweater and the prettiest smile Gojo had ever laid eyes on. 

Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed but it’s not entirely pointless. Upon returning - he had a somewhat shallow epiphany about the way you make him feel. About the way he’s affected by you, which is arguably more valuable than some lead.

Being away from you for so long is something that makes him so irritable. He’s had some time between then and now to come into terms with it. 

Falling back into his routine, it was obvious. Suddenly there was a gap he’d never noticed before that blew wide enough for him to fall through. He actively avoids not seeing you if he can, and ever since your permissive conversation a few weeks ago - it’s harder to notice the way his desires fester. 

There’s not much he wants out of his life. So when anything noteworthy pops up, Gojo is always eager to get a hold of it before it’s too late. 

He usually soothes that by reminding himself of your position as a civilian, a kindergarten teacher at that. The responsible thing to do is make sure you’re safe. To play the hero from the sidelines and ensure you don’t encounter anything from his line of work. That’s his whole life's work. To create a life like that, and it helps to stay on that path when he believes you’re sheltered from that reality. 

That’s why, when you tell Gojo you can see curses, he feels the entire floor collapse from underneath his feet. 

He receives such devastating news over a cup of coffee at that.

It’s closing in to Fall slowly and Gojo has decided to take you out to eat as an apology for his disappearance. He intended to give you another half-truth about his job so you wouldn’t lose any sleep over him. 

When it happens, it’s less that you tell him, and more that you keep glancing. Just over his shoulder, with this terrified expression that Gojo couldn’t not notice, even if he tried. 

You’ve got your hands around a warm drink, in a white, ceramic mug but your gaze keeps diverting to the place behind him. When he looks over to that same place, a curse is there. Small. More insignificant than a bug, but there. 

It’s risky to mention it. Because if Gojo is wrong, it’s not something he can brush off. He’d have to come up with something to excuse himself, and he isn’t sure how to lie out of that (even with his natural disposition of being a trickster.) But when you keep looking, his instinct kicks in. There’s no way you aren’t seeing it. 

He doesn’t ask you directly. That’d be too incriminating, so he lowers his tone. Watches you briefly as you tremble in fear. 

(A small, small  part of him is only asking because he doesn’t like how distracted you are from him. Killing the curse seems like it’d relieve that annoyance too.)

“Can you see it…?” 

The question makes you jump out of your skin. You reel back, eyes widened before the realization really sets in. 

“....It?” 

Gojo looks around the cafe for a minute, to make sure no one is listening before he turns around and points to the cursed spirit behind him. 

“It,” He says, thumb pointed at the deformed curse moaning in one of the booths. 

When it dawns on you that Gojo sees what you see, you cup a hand over your mouth in shock. He can’t describe the way getting that confirmation feels. It raises so many questions about who you are. More than he had before, at least. 

No longer are you the innocent, clueless civilian and that changes every interaction he’s had with you since the start. Though it’s not uncommon for people who can see curses to fall through the cracks, he can feel his own curiosity dig into his skin like seeds taking root. He doesn’t think he should be excited, but he is. 

He’s excited watching your fearful tremble. He’s never seen you like that.

“Yes,” You say, voice a little shaky this time “I can see… it.” 

He takes the spoon out of his latte and cleans it with his mouth. Studying your expression momentarily, he takes a deep breath before standing to his feet. The terror is so subtle, the kind he can only catch because he’s so familiar.. He knows those emotions better than he knows most. 

Curses aren’t phobias. Not illusions or ghosts, but tangible madness. Impactful to those who can see it, but nothing to those who can’t. Fear like that, which can’t be shared with anyone, has a specific look when it shows up in someone. Gojo hasn’t felt that fear since he was very, very little. He watches curses with the same bland expression he might watch a horror movie, but he can understand your reaction at least.  He knows it like the back of his hand. All the people he’s saved, who could see them too, always wore the same one. 

Still, he’s caught off guard. He feels bad that you’re scared. But the proximity between you and him which was once oceans wide has decreased significantly in no time at all. That feels good. Even better than he would’ve imagined. 

“Are you scared?” He questions intently, maintaining a sense of neutrality.

You swallow a lump in your throat, eyes glued to the table in front of you.

“Yes,” 

Your voice is a hoarse whisper. The corners of his lips twitch upward. 

When he’s sure no one is looking, he stands up and walks over to the table behind him. Pretending to look for something so he doesn’t look out of place. It doesn’t take more than a second to destroy it. It’s tiny, something he’d never think of fighting since it’s so harmless. The curse equivalent to a fly. 

He gives it a violent death and sees you look on with horror in your expression. He finds himself pleased with that, wiping his hands on his pants before returning. Maybe you recognize his strength when he sits back down. Still, instead of pulling away again, you fold your hands in your lap. 

“T-Thank you,”

He grins at you. 

“Of course,” He says  “Can I ask you something?” 

You nod your head and sip your tea. 

“Do you know who I am?” 

You look confused.

“...Are you a celebrity?” 

He laughs hard at that. Hearing that makes him not want to tell you. 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” He reintroduces. You nod slowly “I’m a sorcerer.” 

Another lie of omission. The strongest, he should say. He takes a sip of his latte, frowning at the bitterness. Through his mask, he watches as you fiddle with your hands. He stacks the empty creamer cups together before opening two more sugar packets and stirring them. 

“A sorcerer…” You look perplexed. Confusion settles into the lines of your face. Sheltered, Gojo concludes. Only parents, who shelter you wouldn’t tell you what a sorcerer was despite your ability to see them “What does that… mean exactly?” 

“It means I kill curses for a living” He replies simply. 

“I thought you were a high school teacher.” 

He smiles. 

“Smart cookie. I am, but the school I teach at specializes in cursed technique and sorcery.”

“Oh.” 

You look befuddled. 

Gojo thinks he might be an opportunist. 

“Do you really not know anything about them? It’s rare for people to be able to see them and not know anything about them.”

You shake your head, eyes peering into your drink. He watches how the image reflects in your eyes.

“Uhm. Not really. My parents told me to do my best to stay away from it. We lived in the countryside but I had to move out into the city for work so I kept… running into them. I can’t like… kill them. And I don't always see them.” 

“You can’t use cursed techniques?” 

“I guess that’s what that is. I don’t think I can, no.” 

Vulnerable. 

“Hmm. What circumstances,” He says, purposeful in weaving concern in his words. 

“Is it that bad…?” 

Not really. His job and the job of his peers is to make sure civilians make as little contact with curses as possible. There are more people like you, and because curses feed off of negative emotions - many dangers can be shafted by just not reacting. Even so, it’s customary for people to have some semblance of protection. A weapon if nothing else, for anyone who can see them.

“Do you carry anything with you?” 

“Like a weapon? I have mace for when I take the train late at night.” 

“Not that kind of weapon,” He says gracefully. He can tell you’re out of your element, and some small and twisted part of him would like to keep you in the fateful dark.

“What other kind would there be?” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” He half answers. Your frown deepens. He puts his palm over the top of his coffee cup but doesn’t feel any warmth “Aw, don’t be like that. I’m just teasing. You’re always so calm and collected, I was surprised to see how scared you got, you know?” 

“Everybody gets scared sometimes.” 

“Mm,”

His non-committal response leaves you nervous again. Fidgeting with the edge of your cup or the loose threads in the sleeves of your clothes. What a bundle of nerves you are. Gojo puts all the comfort he can in his voice, dredging up some sense of sincerity.

“Well, since it scares you and I’m such a nice guy, I’ll protect you if you get into any trouble.” He says, snapping his fingers and pointing at you.

That makes you relax. Makes your shoulders droop, a smile gracing your pretty face. Gojo can feel the floor underneath him sinking as you tease him. His eyes trace the curve of your neck. He’s glad you can’t see him or where they look. 

“Oh, what? Are you gonna come running every time I need help?” 

He smiles. 

“I’ll be your personal Superman.” He promises, making a silly expression trying to make you laugh. It feels good when he succeeds, the weight of his words softened by it. If you feel how heavy the comment is, it doesn’t show up on your face. 

You snort, taking a sip of your drink and there’s something so kind in your expression that Gojo aches over. 

“That right?” You hum, smiling over the edge of your ceramic mug “You’re my hero.”

__ 

Since then, Gojo’s kept quite busy.

The last time he saw you at all was at the diner a few weeks prior and little has been different since then. You send more nervous messages than before, but aside from that things are the same.

He’s done a good job, he thinks. Partly of ensuring you, partly of instilling healthy fear. Your eyes always widen like you’re caught off guard by his comments - sometimes washed away with a laugh but other times genuine. Gojo likes to keep you on your toes. A  bit of harmless fun and endlessly amusing. 

Gojo would be there to protect you just like he promised before, so even scaring you isn’t something he thinks of as bad. It’s not untrue that you should be a little more vigilant, but just telling you to do so is no easy feat. 

He would like to be spending time with you today just the same as he has before, but he’s home alone instead. There’s been a brief reprieve between cases so he’s on his own to unwind. There’s nothing he wants to do, so he decides on a movie. 

Gojo is the only one of his friends who still has cable TV. According to Shoko it’s a luxury purchase but for him it’s one less choice he has to make when coming home to relax.

It’s an American film on now, some psycho-killer classic that he’s already seen a handful of times with Japanese subtitles. 

None of the lights are turned on, so the TV illuminates the room in flashes of color. He grabs a soda from his steel-gray fridge and cracks it open, listening to the soft fizz that comes to a slow halt. Pulling it to his mouth, he travels slowly back to his couch. The leather squeaks under the weight of his body. The weight of his back creates a divet that he can be comfortable in. He rests his head, glancing back again at the screen. 

A scream rips through the house, agitating his every nerve. He picks up his remote and turns it down just a tad before watching the movie with a sort of disinterest. Horror movies aren’t his favorite, admittedly. He pretends he scares easily, but the opposite is true. Gojo has seen too much for it to be entertaining, no less scary. 

He likes movies based on their creative merit. He’ll watch one on its creative merit. 

But to be scared? For frights? Not really. Very little gets his heart pumping hard like that. Sometimes the storytelling is good. Other times there’s something cathartic about the formulaic death. The final girl, the call from inside the house. The dependable and clean ending of tropes. Even if it’s messy or sinister, it’s fantastical. Fictitious and detached. 

Gojo enjoys that. For anyone else, it’s probably a twisted way to think about it but to Gojo it only feels natural. He doesn’t examine that detachment very deeply. He’s just aware of it, lingering in the back of his head. 

He takes a long sip of his drink. The sickly sweet taste slowly coats his mouth. Fizzy and smooth, it goes down easily. He sits up in his seat, making himself comfortable as he tries to pay attention to the movie. The main girl is hiding in the bathroom, and the killers' steps are echoing through the house. The broken, somber string instruments in the background, fill the white noise with apprehension and terror. 

Gojo doesn’t feel a chill down his spine. His eyes are still fixed on the screen though, with slight anticipation of what's next even though he already knows. It’s nearing the end and he’s seen this movie before. She’s not going to make it, and Gojo knows that. 

He watches intently in spite of that. The door bursts open and there’s a knife in her chest - and screams. It’s horrific and ugly, blood-spattered and graphic. 

He doesn’t flinch until the whole way through.

It’s brief, but the thought passes his mind. Lately, the only thing that Gojo seems to react to is you.

But he doesn’t think about it too deeply. There’s no need to. 

The TV goes to commercial and Gojo realizes he’s finished his soda. He stands back up, onto his feet to toss the can and grab another. This time, he grabs some snacks too. Piles them onto a plate, dried meats, and something mildly sweet for after before he returns to his living room. Sitting back down on his couch, he scrolls through his phone for anything interesting but comes up short of any results. 

He sits up a little straighter as the next movie plays. 

__

Spending time around curses is a necessary part of the learning experience.

Things you can’t learn in all the lessons and tutoring in the entire world. Even though Jujutsu Tech exists, and even given Gojo’s lineage - when he started working officially, he didn’t know everything. You can’t. No matter to what extent you study, there’s some things that you can only gauge through experience. Going through something over and over, like muscle memory.

Gojo spent a lot of his life wanting it to make sense. Wanting curses and the way they showed up to make sense. This is a lesson in truth, divine truth you can only take up in experience. Curses are human emotions, which means that they are finicky and everywhere. And the dangers of them will always look like the aftermath of destruction. 

Sometimes, there’s nothing you can do to prepare for why things happen. It’s why Gojo is always grasping for light where he can find it. 

Gojo Satoru stands in an empty parking lot all the way in Osaka. He examines the sight in front of him and can’t find anything he’s learned to prepare for what's next. 

Fog has rolled in thick clouds over every inch, limiting his vision. The air tastes of smoke, and the earth underneath him is damp. The wet concrete squeaks under the weight of his shoes as he takes in the surroundings. The parking lot of an animal hospital, in particular - where all the staff were reported to have fallen unconscious. After being rolled out by the proper authorities and after all the animals were moved into a different location - Gojo was left to examine the remnants of the incident. 

The reports are similar all across the country. Not the location. but the symptoms. People falling sick and ill. The initial reports of a water-borne illness didn’t progress far past the first city. It’s evolved since then. People get sick, pass out and hallucinate and animals lose all control. 

The aftermath isn’t very messy so luckily it doesn’t attract too much attention. There’s no bodies, or blood - nothing  heinous thereafter. The effects appear later in the people affected, taken over by an unnamed madness that appears to turn their internal experience to ruins. Gojo would’ve preferred the first situation. Violence like that becomes easy to digest with enough exposure. 

These kinds of symptoms are always hard to stomach. Civilians get answers that placate them. The truth is that there's something bigger out there at play and they were just so unlucky to bear witness to the terror. With altered memories and the badge of trauma, what they don’t know can’t hurt them. 

Gojo knows though, and sometimes he envies their ignorance.

He makes his way into the building. A set of glass doors greets him when he turns the sidewalk, with a blinking sign. Osaka Animal Hospital is written at the top in neon, accompanied by the words 24hr service. Gojo only glances at it briefly before sighing, hands on the bar to push himself through the heavy glass doors. He has to lean some of his weight to get through, and there’s just another set beyond those where he has to do the same. 

Then, he’s inside. 

The presence of the curse and of cursed energy ignites familiar caution within him. It’s here, in some capacity - or it was recently. The perpetrator is here too. Why that is, Gojo can’t quite understand. It seems a little backwards to linger here after everyones been evacuated and there’s no doubt someone would come to investigate. 

All Gojo can think is that maybe they weren’t expecting him. But by now, they must know he’s there too. Gojo’s presence is intentionally oppressive - by nature it must be. Now it’s a waiting game, a quiet one at that. 

Hospitals are always echoey and this one is no different. The squeak of his boots bounces off the walls as he takes steps towards the receptionist desk just to see if he’ll find anything. 

He leans over it, to stare at the left over records - untouched by the authorities. Everything looks like it was left in a hurry. Strew pens and a corded phone just barely back in place - with computers on a blue idle screen. All the daily documents are still out sitting on the desk with no organization to indicate they’ve been filtered through. No paper clips or post-its telling the next person working about what to do. 

Instead of walking behind the counter, he climbs over it with relative ease. Once he’s behind it, he takes better note of his surroundings. He doesn’t find anything completely relevant. There’s painting of animals, and some certifications for bills of health as well - but nothing that warrants his attention. He redirects through the papers in front of him, coming across a stack unexamined. Those answer sheets they give you to fill out so they can assess the situation before meeting you. 

They’re split into two piles it looks like, though that could just be some coincidence. Still, he flips through them. Directing his attention to the little comment box with the prompt what are you being seen for? 

It’s nothing serious. Normal things an animal owner would be upset or worried about like bowel movements and eating something that shouldn’t have been consumed. A minor injury or a worrisome behavior - but nothing that sticks out. For pages and pages, Gojo flips through the little packets trying to find anything. 

It’s not what he sees, but what he doesn’t. A blank packet of papers, with no name for the owner or the pet. Only a description in the prompt box, neat handwriting in a single line. 

“Showing signs of anxiety.” 

Gojo smiles to himself. Interesting. 

He jumps back over onto the other side once he’s seen it. It’s strange. Why would they go to the lengths of premeditating it like that? Whether it’s the curse itself or some third party, it’s an unreasonable thing to do. 

“Not like people like this are usually reasonable, but,” 

He saves the rest of the thought, sighing. The room has two hallways to go down. Both directions have some lingering cursed energy,  but the hallway leading to the overnight area is much stronger. It’s separated by a big metal door, so Gojo braces himself to go through it.

He walks towards it slowly and through the doors even slower. It’s a long, empty hall. The ceilings are low, white fluorescent lights over his head like a falsified halo. They flicker on and off, with the ones at the very end of the hall having fizzled out completely. Gojo can hear, feel, and see everything. He can hear his own breathing and the artificial crackling  of electricity. Feel the lingering presence of sickness, the sediments of a curse preparing itself to emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon. 

He peeks into the different rooms of the hallway. One half of the hall is kennels, once again empty and left in the same messy state as the front desk. The other half of the rooms look like surgery rooms, with a storage closet tucked into one corner. The hall comes to an abrupt stop at the end, a painted gray wall with nothing to offer at the end.

But when Gojo is half-way through, he hears it. A heart-beat. A human one, slow and steady like it’s not worried at all. Not moving or running, just there. Thump, thump, thump. 

Gojo perks his head up as he walks, leaning over to get a look at every room. Empty, empty, empty. 

Then, in the very last one is a shadowy figure. The sound of the heartbeat is louder and the feeling of cursed energy is so strong it’s nauseating. Gojo pauses when he peers in, waits for there to be any response to his presence. There’s no way whoevers lurking doesn’t know he’s there, but there’s nothing that makes him react. He frowns. 

His hand reaches for the handle of the door with a sigh, the mechanism inside clicking to let Gojo know it’s open. He takes a deep breath before opening it, stepping inside and shutting it behind him. 

Even with the room as dark as it, the person inside is clear to his vision. A young girl. Probably no older than 17 with… 

He furrows his brow. With a dog, from what it looks like. No ordinary dog, obviously. A curse in the form of a dog, with teeth too sharp for its mouth and fur that looks like a smear of charcoal and nothing like hair at all. It’s on a long leash, the chain wrapped around the young woman's palms. 

The dog seems to tense up at the sight of Gojo. The eyes are empty and white - almost transparent. It’s a snarling thing, muzzle over the mouth and clearly on edge. Gojo looks at its owner, the perpetrator in this instance. Who looks calm, black mask tucked over face and long dark hair with bangs cut sharp.

Gojo doesn’t know what to say here. He wasn’t expecting to make contact this easily with a curse and its master. It’s been months now, the authorities chasing after this special grade from city to city. She’s obviously strong, and so is that curse that’s strained against its collar like it’s ready to rip him in half if he moves. Not stronger than him, because no such thing ever happens - but strong enough for him to be cautious. 

He doesn’t step forward. He stops by the door and tilts his head. He’s sure she can’t see his eyes, but they make eye contact all the same. None of it makes any sense, but making sense of it isn’t Gojo’s job. 

Instead of introducing himself, he opens the conversation with a question. 

“Why’re you still here?” 

“I knew I was going to get caught soon.” 

An answer he couldn’t predict even if he tried. Gojo huffs. 

“There was some time between the authorities coming and this investigation. You could have left before then, no?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Something would’ve stopped me.” 

“What a weird kid. What led you to that?” 

There’s a minute where the dog (?) starts barking,  but the noise is nothing like a bark. It’s cosmic and strained, and sounds more like a distorted radio than an animal noise. It’s in the shape of an animal but it isn’t one, like it couldn’t complete itself to be one. Gojo winces at the sound, intensified in the closed walls of the room. It’s piercing, and a little annoying. 

When she soothes it, it calms down quickly. It’s obedient. 

“Uh. A vision. Closer to a premonition. Fate.”

“Fate said you were going to get caught today. Right.” 

“Aren’t you a shaman? Shouldn’t be that hard to believe.” 

“Point taken. How did you know I was a shaman and not some murderer?” 

She gives Gojo a pointed look. 

“Look at you. Plus, I can feel that you’re a shaman.” 

“Another premonition?” He asks, this time sincerely. She shakes her head. 

“No. Your aura.” 

Gojo stares ahead. 

“...Right, yeah. It doesn’t look like you’re planning on attacking me.” 

“I don’t think I’d win. I’ve never met anyone stronger than me.” 

“I’m the strongest there is, so I guess not. How did you wanna go about this, then? Famous last words?” 

“You go first. I’d rather talk to you than the other officials.” 

“Hm. Don’t know if I have any questions, kiddo. My job is catching you, not interrogation. I guess I am a little interested in why.” 

This makes her deflate a little. It’s hardly noticeable, but Gojo sees it anyway. The dog seems to react, snarling at her discomfort. He’s starting to understand the connection between them.

She thinks for a minute longer before sighing. 

“Well. I guess I should start about why, right? It’s an old story. I came from a small village. I used to walk miles to school everyday and I’d get bullied a lot since my granny was a shaman. It was just us growing up. A nice old house with not a lot of modern anything,”

Gojo crosses his arms, leaning back on the wall and nodding his head. He figures she’ll tell him top to bottom, so he doesn’t give any input. 

“My granny died a few years ago. I didn’t have any family so I moved on my own. Even back then, the only other thing I cared about were animals. I started working at a shelter and then I met Senbei.” 

The more she talks, the worse he feels. Gojo already knows how this story will end, but he doesn’t interrupt her as she pauses between her sentences. Being 17 and bearing the burdens of loss is something he regards as a nightmare. 

“Senbei was my best friend. Most loyal dog ever. And you know, I started my job with high hopes and kept him by my side. I wasn’t always angry. Working in that shelter and watching animals come in trembling every time I fed ‘em made me angry. How cruel and sick people could be.” 

Her explanations are jumbled and clumsy. She sounds angry but it’s not that simple, curling in on herself the more she talks. Noticeably, she doesn’t try to justify it. She says it easily, with acceptance that it happened.  He thinks that acceptance is harder to bear than delusion. Gojo can’t help but commend her silently. 

“I’m sorry you went through that.”  Gojo replies. 

He’s being sincere. 

“Should you be sympathizing with me?” 

“Doesn’t matter. I just do.”

Her expression softens. She looks sad, and it’s not like Gojo doesn’t understand.  She keeps going though, hands shaking in her lap. Gojo thinks she might’ve been waiting to tell someone. 

“I don’t know when I stopped seeing the good in people….I always thought about—about my granny and how no one—no one came to see her. She was always taking care of everyone and no-one—“

“I know, kid,” Gojo says with a sigh “I get it.” 

“Then you know,” She pauses, taking a deep breath. There’s frustrated tears pouring down her cheek this time. What a strange, sad thing she is:  “That you can’t go back. Even if you forget. It just—it changes you.” 

Yeah. Gojo knows something about that, too. 

“I was already pretty desperate when Senbei was alive. Just trying to hold on. When he was killed, I lost it. I just fucking— I lost it. I’m sure you understand. You get it right?”

Gojo looks at her confused. She shakes her head, looking down in her lap at the curse in her hands.

“I can tell you're like me.  That's why your aura is so tainted and… fucked up and  malicious. It should be crystalline blue kinda like spring water—but it’s muddy. Rigid.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“The fact you’re hanging on by a thread. You can feel it too, right?“ 

Gojo remains quiet at her observation. He doesn’t know how to react. 

“When you want something so bad, it just— does something to you. Either because it won’t happen or because it needs to take your life to exist. Happened to granny, to me. It’ll happen to you, too.”

“I doubt that,” Gojo says, your face flashing in his mind. He shakes his thoughts away. 

“You’re thinking about it too literally. You want something, so you chase it and lose yourself in the process. You’re dead. No longer you, all tangled and in ruins. It’s not too late, but if you keep going—that thread is gonna snap.” 

“A premonition?” He says, partially sarcastic. She shakes her head. 

“No, a prediction. You don’t have to consider it if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d tell you since you gave me some last minutes with this Senbei.” 

Gojo shakes his head. 

“I don’t have any reason to be forceful if you comply. Take your time. I don’t have anything better to do.” 

Gojo glances at her as she pets it, having resigned herself to silently gazing upon it. He can’t stop himself from thinking about everything she’s said, so he averts his gaze to the ceiling and pretends otherwise.

The silent stretches, a pregnant pause before she speaks one more time. She has a look on her face Gojo can’t read.

“You know, it’s funny. Everyone thinks dogs are loyal to their masters, but that’s because we made them that way. We can’t stand being alone or unloved so we made something that can do both without ever seeing any less of us.” 

“You’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”  Gojo says, unsure of how to reply. She isn’t expecting anything, but remaining silent fills him with a sense of dread. 

“Guess so. You should take some time to think about it too,”

She says to him, petting the curse that whines like it’s been hit in her small hands. Gojo takes a deep breath. 

“…Yeah. I’ll do that.” 

__

The case ends anti-climatically. 

Gojo finds it funny. The officials came and the young girl was promptly arrested. He never even got a chance to ask her name. He learned through some probing that she only made two asks before being taken. 

The first, to keep her curse dog with her, and to send her thanks to the sorcerer who had apprehended her in the first place.

On the news, much later in the week - a news report surfaces. “Danger in the Deep,” giving reasonable and logical explanations for the events that occurred in cities across Japan not even a few weeks ago. New studies show, experts say, here’s a word from your local—a barrage of fancy language to pad the publishing, add depth and realism. The public is none the wiser. 

Gojo has to admire the commitment to keeping the peace. The case ends, and the girl gets arrested and put on trial. He doesn’t know if he’ll be seeing her again any time soon, though he’s sure he has the power to intervene. 

He’s hesitating to do so. Why stick his neck out for her in a situation like this one? Over other situations, more dire ones at that. She’d make a good ally.

Their last conversation hasn’t left the back of Gojo’s mind. He’s conscious of it, albeit it hasn’t slowed him down. He’s not looking for another assessment of who or what ghosts are haunting him. He’d prefer to put it all behind him now

So life, in some capacity, has returned to its baseline. It’s normal. He has cases but they don’t take him more than three days. He’s able to do his usual chores without anything impeding them. He’s been teaching, no longer forced to make his students fend for themselves. 

He’s been seeing you again regularly, too. 

He’s getting ready now to do just that. Scheduled to get another coffee together (something of a tradition now) and pick up some conversations. You’ve been busy, though Gojo doesn’t know the details of what.

He wants to know. He’s even tried asking but as soon as he gets close to the subject, you slink into yourself like you’re trying to disappear. Besides, he doesn’t want to intimidate you into telling him. 

(Though, it would be so easy to do. You’ve got a record for being a scaredy cat, and as much as it endears him - he is entirely too hung up on the potential for exploitation to admire it kindly. It’d be easy to turn the notches up, pressure you. With how easy going you are, you’d let him do it. Gojo bets you’d cave. He thinks the face you’d make would be entertaining too. 

Above all, the offer is tempting.) 

In spite of your refusal to discuss the specifics, Gojo does want to cheer you up in whatever capacity he can. So, he’s taking you out for a while and hoping a comfortable environment and the presence of other people will soothe your nerves a little. 

He’s getting dressed for it now, rifling through his closet for decent casual attire. 

He’s got his hair styled down, a pair of new sunglasses on the table and his clothes folded on his bed before he tries them on. Most of his closet is uniforms, plain black and boring. For now, he’s settled on a black crew neck and blue jeans - ripped at the knees. 

He looks over his appearance in the mirror, posing in it. Arms flexed and stretched over his head before putting them out in front of his body. 

He takes his time to take part in the ritual. He slips his boxers up over his legs, waist band tight around his torso and clinging to the curves of his thighs. He pulls his jeans up, low at his hips with a belt buckled through the front. Then comes his sweater over his abdomen. 

He wants to look nice. Though, he could be deluding himself - lately you seem a little more aware of his appearance. It makes him happy that his good looks haven’t failed him in the instance they matter most. 

As he puts on his accessories (in this case a watch and a ring) his phone buzzes atop his dresser. He stops to pick it up, a message from you on the screen. He peers over so his face can be read, then smiles. 

(sent 11:15am) Ready ~ 

He laughs to himself. 

(sent 11:16am) Almost ready. Need to look my best for such a tremendous occasion. 

(sent 11:16am) For coffee? 

(sent 11;17) For coffee with my favorite kindergarten teacher ofc ♡

You send back a simple reply telling him to hurry and come out. Gojo chooses to interpret your embarrassment as a sign. It puts some pep in his step, and he hurries to finish dressing up. 

He steps out of his house, locking his door from the outside before shuffling down a single flight of stairs and out into the front entrance of his complex. He notices you waiting at the front gate from where he’s standing. 

The neighborhood dog (officially named Pokupan) is asleep by the security office. You’re the same as always. Today's outfit is a dress with long sleeves and colored tights. It suits you. A splash of warmth in an otherwise dreary world, Gojo stands in place as he watches you for an unidentified amount of time. Minutes feel like seconds as you pace back and forth. Your phone must be in your purse because he can’t find it anywhere on you. 

He’s delighted when you finally turn your head to look at him. You cup your hand and give him a kind wave which he laughs at and returns enthusiastically. His stride is long, walking towards the gate. 

You have to tilt your neck up to look at him (making his chest squeeze unhelpfully) but you smile when you do so. 

“Hey,” 

“Hello there Miss. Waiting for a special someone?” He jokes. You flush. 

“They’re an important friend,” 

He tries not to let his smile falter. Friend. 

“Then, is it a bother if I ask to take you out?” 

This time you falter. Gojo notices it out of the corner of his eye, the briefest brush of nerves that makes it seem like you’re warming up to him after all. It’s gone as quickly as it came but it’s there and Gojo etches it into the back of his eyelids for memory. He smiles at you as you look away, flush

“Not at all,” 

He grins, again, even brighter. Then he sticks his arm out for you to loop in. You hesitate again. This time Gojo can’t be sure why.

“I’m just being a gentleman, you know?” He pouts. His frown takes effect as you loop your arms together. He keeps it friendly. Too much pushing and you’ll skitter away right before his eyes. Still, even this much progress feels good. It feels whole and light and good. 

It’s a pleasant sort of day. 

Not that it’s warm, or even sunny. It’s cold, on the edge of Autumn that dances into Winter. Freezing but bright out, the kind of sky where everything is clear. During the day the sky has no clouds and no stars when it comes to night time. 

Nonetheless it’s nice. The cold is the kind that makes you want to cozy into someone for warmth, so Gojo doesn’t mind walking in. The walk itself isn’t very long either. The cafe is near your complex, just about 15 minutes worth of walking. There’s no snow or ice to trip on, and because it’s freezing - you shiver every time you stray too far from the heat of his body so the walking is done exceptionally close together

There are kids and parents walking together on the street alongside you, dogs and their owners, street vendors with hot tea. It’s that kind of day where the cold doesn’t keep anyone indoors, in fact everyone seems to relish in the fact they can run and run and run without overheating. It feels like everything is in sync with each other, comfortable and harmonious in spite of everything else.

After 15 minutes, you’ve arrived at the store front. Not long enough for Gojo, but that’s okay. There’s next time he has to look forward too. 

(He tells himself this every time. It’s never enough for him. He can never get enough of listening to you talk. He could probably mimic your cadence without having to try. It’s a sound he doesn’t get sick of―a miracle, another one, because Gojo hates so many sounds―yet there’s one he always looks out for. 

There has to be a next time. If he forgets to tell himself as much, he gets so restless he can hardly stand.

The cafe is nice. It’s one of those places that you see on Instagram often with plenty of sweets for Gojo’s taste and plenty of fancy teas for yours. The outside has beige-colored brick and a brown sign decorated with cutesy drawings. You spend a good amount of time crouched beside it, taking a picture or two to later post on your story. 

“You have to tag me, okay? It’s your payment for wasting our precious time together,” He jokes. 

You stand to your feet and brush off your pants, the material of your coat rustling as you do. 

“Yes, yes ― I promise. I’ll have to ask who drew them when we get in there.” 

Gojo smiles at your enthusiasm before opening the door for you.  Another one of those glass ones with a logo printed on the top half and the metal tinted brown. A little bell chimes above your head as you head in first, and Gojo heads in after you. He has to duck not to his his head on the top of it.

It’s not too crowded at this hour. A handful of people sit among the many tables and booths. Your head is turned to the menu and Gojo trails behind you like a shadow. One to compliment all your light. 

It smells delightful inside. Like warm cookies and vanilla and tea. Gojo feels his sweet tooth kick in the minute you two stand in line. The barista is a doe-eyed blonde college student. There’s another employee with long dark hair and thin, narrow eyes. It reminds Gojo a lot of that girl he met a few weeks ago but he tries to put that thought out of his mind.

He sticks his hands in his pockets and eyes the menu. The special item is a yuzu cream cake, the picture of it hanging on the wall like employee of the month. There’s a glass display of all the other items and the menu matches the rest of the decor.

“This was a good choice,” Gojo says, entranced by all the desserts around him. You laugh, turning your head slightly to look at him. 

“Are you complimenting yourself right now?” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“Your sweet tooth is so bad,” You say through giggles “Your poor dentist,” 

He gasps in offense.

“I will have you know I keep my pearly whites pristine. Not a single cavity for the record.” He says back, placing emphasis on the last words. You snort a laugh. 

“I’ve never had one either,” You repeat back, perhaps mindlessly before saying “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other yet.” 

Yet. Yet. Gojo’s subconscious will hold onto that word for too long. It makes his heart beat too loud. He’s relieved that you’re nothing like him. If you were in this very moment, you would hear the thunder raging inside of his ribs. 

Instead of saying anything, he scoffs playfully. 

“I bet you were such a goody two-shoes that you never ate sweets before bed-time.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise followed by embarrassment, where you tuck your chin into your sweater. 

“Ugh,” You say, so weakly Gojo can’t stop himself from laughing “What’s wrong with being a goody two shoes, huh?” 

Gojo feels almost feline in his self-satistication. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it, just that you were one.” 

Your frown deepens. 

“I don’t care for your tone, mister.” 

“Are you gonna scold me like one of your students?” 

“If it gets you to be nice,” You say firmly, in that Teacher voice that Gojo has caught glimpses of over the last few months. He does a fake salute. 

“Yes, ma’am!,” He proclaims,  soft enough so only you hear it. You break out into another set of his giggles, melting his cold heart. It’s not the smile so much as it is yours.  The line moves up just a little bit. Gojo steps in front of you before you have a chance, his figure shadowing you. 

“What do you want?” 

“I think I’m gonna get one of those fruit teas and some cake.” You say absentmindedly. He smiles at you playfully. 

“Heard,” 

Gojo turns to order for you both, laughing through your obvious protests about his paying for you. He’s able to block you from getting in the way as the cashier looks on the both of you bemusedly. When the order is placed, Gojo taps his phone against the reader before moving aside where you stomp your feet and follow him. 

“I told you I would get it this time,” You whine. He hums. 

“Mm, there’s always next time?” 

“You say that every time!” 

“So you never know? Maybe it’s next time for sure.” 

You seem to realize that this is a fruitless conversation and that he’s not going to relent. With a flush on your face, you cross your arms and pout. 

“I’ll get you back one of these times, I swear….Anyway, thank you.” You add the last part quietly. He hums. 

“It’s only fair, you know. After all, who else would come here to eat sweets with me?” 

You look taken aback but Gojo doesn’t retract his statement. He’s sure there’s someone he could ask. But there’s no one who would agree to it as easily as you have. The environment wouldn’t be so welcoming, either. Someone who would do something like this with Gojo is long lost. It almost feels foreign to him now. 

In order to ease the tension, you look up at him warmly. 

“Then, I’m glad you asked me.” 

There it is again. That warm, sort of fluttery feeling he gets in his chest being around you. He wonders if he’s allowed to be so happy. 

The food arrives at the counter, the young woman calling out for Gojo. You and Gojo split the task of carrying the plates, picking a nice booth in the corner with the top covered, You slide in across from him, situating your bag. 

You and Gojo go back and forth, setting up everything so it looks nice under the lights. Gojo takes on taking the photos this time, clicking from a few different angles and stopping to show you after each photo. 

“I’ll send you the picture later, okay?” 

“Don’t forget.” 

“I won’t, I won’t. Let’s eat, okay?” 

You nod enthusiastically.

__ 

You and Gojo eat and chat comfortably for a while. 

He’s not sure how much time passes. He wasn’t checking because why would he? He’d like to be with you a bit longer, so he refrains from thinking about it and hopes you do the same. Just a bit more, he tells himself. Until you really, really have to go. 

There’s nothing major to catch up on. You tell Gojo about your job, mostly and how you saw some friends from out of town the week before. Winter is coming and you want to do something nice for the holidays. You’re getting along well with your fellow teachers which is good. He was worried about that, but he can’t keep eyes on you at school. 

(Not for not having tried. He’s thought about it, but his presence would be too noticeable and he doesn’t trust anyone else to the task) 

So it’s relieving. Your only complaint has been that some of the students have the sort of parents you can’t handle. Pushy and involved in a way you can’t ignore but can’t tolerate either. Gojo jokes to take care of them, gesturing to his arm like he’s ready to knock someone's lights out. 

That makes you laugh, and following it you have this melancholy look that sends alarms blaring in Gojo’s head. You don’t broach the subject at all afterwards. You talk about everything else you can. The sale on radishes at the market, thinking about getting a car just to have it, maybe visiting your parents sometime soon. 

Gojo listens. He doesn’t have much to add. His work is strictly classified to people who aren’t in the field and it’s nothing fun to begin with. He does tell you what he can - usually about some antics his students have gotten into during training. He can at least talk about that. 

He tells you about the movies he’s watched, how he went drinking with his co-workers last week, and how he thinks Pokupan is starting to act friendlier to him. 

It’s fun because it’s you. Gojo likes feeling like he’s involved with you intimately. He likes hearing you talk. The sound of your voice is such a pleasant contrast to his own. You talk with a kind of joy Gojo could never hope to carry, all gestures and smiles and interjections - trying to make sure your point comes across. How you don’t think the kid sitting in the front is a bad kid, just needs guidance. How the material of your sweater isn’t really cashmere but more of a blend. 

Time passes  comfortably that way. The drinks and food have been reduced to crumbs and cold drops of tea, glasses emptied and phones abandoned. 

But neither of you have made any move to leave, and Gojo is still listening to you talk with a pleased smile on his face. It was a pleasant sort of day, remember? 

“So it was fine in the end, but the classroom was such a mess seriously―” 

So, it throws Gojo off when you stop speaking so abruptly. How easily the atmosphere melts, and what an unpleasant film it leaves behind. 

It feels like an axe hammering on a stop, a sharp and near violent thud that cuts off the end of your sentence. The air becomes tense in the blink of an eye. Gojo can feel it, the sensation of cursed energy. It’s stagnated, little like pebbles at the bottom of a creek. But it’s there, and Gojo can feel it creep over your shoulders like a sixth sense. Like someone skipped a stone over that same water. He senses it in the air like dust in the light.

He sits up straight, focusing his attention on you. 

“Hey,” He calls out, softening his voice as much as he can. Trying hard to identify what's wrong exactly “You okay?” 

Your hands shake as you lay them flat on the table. You’re almost completely spaced out by now. It all happens in the blink of an eye. 

Gojo stares at you, calling to you a second time. 

“Hey. Hey, look at me?” 

When you finally hear him, you jump in your skin. Your shoulders relax when you realize it’s only Gojo. Normally that would make him happy, but not like this. Your hands are shaking. A nervous fidget in all of your movements that he’s never seen before, like you’ve been shocked with electric wire. He hates it. The taste of your fear (this fear) is different and unfamiliar. 

He doesn’t like it. 

You turn your head to look at him then avert your eyes again. He can’t follow your gaze as it shifts. It’s too erratic.

“No, uhm. It’s just, uhm.” 

“Woah! Hey, Miss. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” 

Everything feels like it slows down as Gojo watches your eyes snap up. Your expression drops again, even lower, and if he listens close enough he can hear the sound of your heart. Your discomfort is tangible. It leaves a metallic taste in Gojo’s mouth as you suddenly curl in yourself, shoulders hunched and peeling skin off your nails. 

You don’t even look to Gojo for help. Instead, your words go soft.  You become helpless in front of his eyes. 

“Oh. Yes, hello.” You bow your head trying to say as little as possible. Gojo stares as you shake like a leaf in the wind. Something ugly curls up inside of him, a knife twisting in his chest. 

“Aw, c’mon? What’s with the unfriendly act? Is it ‘cause you’re here with your boyfriend?”

You look up at him panicked. Not because of the comment, but because of his tone. Gojo hears it too. How sinister it is. Like he’s blaming you for it somehow, like you’ve wronged him. The feeling inside of him is so ugly, it’s so wretched. His knuckles turn nearly white from how hard he’s closing his fist. You put your hands up and go to explain yourself anxiously. 

It makes Gojo sick. He smiles, turning his head just a little so he can see. He opens his eyes and stares, focusing his vision on remembering every detail of the bastard's face.

“I’m not her boyfriend. We’re neighbors,” He explains, tone as cold as ice but smiling. 

Gojo puts pressure in the atmosphere. His natural and suffocating aura returns to him easily. He smiles and remains unnervingly still, waits in quiet for the man to respond. He scratches the back of his head, still indignant. 

“Uh. Okay. I guess that’s good. Wouldn’t be appropriate for a teacher to be out on a date like this huh?” 

Again. This guy, whoever he is, turns his head like he’s trying to talk down to you. Diverts his perversion and sadism towards you that leaves Gojo wondering what his head would look like against concrete. A bitter, heinous feeling waits inside of him, nesting into his ribs as the sound of every voice in the room comes to be muffled. All Gojo can hear is his heart. How long it's been since he’s heard it. 

It’s loud. A cacophony, or a hymn. Divine rage in the sound of his soul leaves has him unsure of how to proceed. 

Gojo glances at you. Your eyes are rounded, full of desperation. Pleading. 

Gojo hates whoever this is. Gojo wants to save you. He thinks you deserve to be saved. 

He stands up. He has enough height on the guy to be intimidating, the guy just barely coming up to his shoulder. Gojo stares down wildly, pulling his glasses to the bridge of his nose to peek briefly over the edge. The bastard stops talking immediately, words coming to a stutter, It’s satisfying. 

“Who are you?” He asks. 

“Wh-why is that any of your concern? Can’t you see I’m talking to―” 

“I didn’t ask about who you were talking to. I asked who you were,” 

He hears you from behind him “He’s a parent from my school,”

“Ah, okay. Interesting. Since you’re a parent, we wouldn’t want to make this a confrontation right?” Gojo says, bemused “It’d be a real issue for everyone if it turned out that way,” 

Gojo puts a hand on his shoulder, tightening his grip hard enough to hear him gasp. He’s weak, but that’s to be expected.

“So, I suggest you turn around and head home, hm? Since we wouldn’t want it to be a big fuss.” 

Gojo can see it now. With a little pressure, he could turn the blade of his shoulder in sawdust and watch him fall to his knees. He’d let out a cry, a sharp pathetic wail like a hit dog. Gojo would make him say sorry to you before he lets up his hand from his skin. He’d do it infront of everyone in the store so they could hold a little fear in their hearts. 

He won’t do it. Just for now. If it complicates your work then you wouldn’t be able to support yourself. What would he do if you ended up somewhere far away? Out of his sight, something like this could happen again and Gojo wouldn’t be able to take care of you. 

So he doesn’t crush it. He pushes his palms into his shoulder blades and whispers quietly, just so the two of them hear. He pulls away and watches as his face goes pale, a simple stutter leaving his lips. Something about how he’ll see you later and that somethings come up before he turns around and leaves.

Gojo watches as he does. The door chimes again, and the man disappears. The patrons who might’ve glanced turn away again like it was just a simple altercation, which is good. Then finally, Gojo looks at you where you are. Your hands are trembling so hard, a shake of relief in your shoulders as you cover your face. You look like you’re getting ready to cry, so Gojo takes it into his own hands. He cleans up all the food, wipes the table, and even grabs your jacket and bag as you take a minute to collect yourself. 

He taps your shoulder lightly afterwards, waiting for you to look up. Once you do he smiles, reaches a hand out to you so you don’t have to think twice. 

“About time to get out of here, huh?” 

You nod, so slowly. You look so relieved, even as you sniffle. Your hand is so small compared to his. He squeezes it protectively as you slide it into his own, and helps you walk out of the store together. 

The air is cold, the same as before, the temperature having warmed just a bit. The bell above the door rings as the two of you finally leave, standing in the street. Unlike before though, there’s something bitter in the air. The sun has hidden itself completely in the clouds and the streets feel emptier, lifeless. 

Gojo turns to you with a somber expression, trying to smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Do you want to go somewhere to talk about it, maybe?” 

You chew your lower lip then sigh “...Yeah. Probably should, huh?” 

You and Gojo decide on a place not too far from where you are. It’s a small park, a good place to end off an otherwise good day. 

You have to take the bus to get there, but there’s not many people. Gojo eventually gives you back your things, lets you slide your jacket on and fix your face - but ultimately takes your hand and holds it on the ride there. He brings it to his lap and you don’t pull away even though you seem to fidget the whole time. 

The bus finally stops in front of the park. It takes hardly any time, but Gojo finds he’s unable to let go of your hand so he doesn’t. Instead, he holds tight and lets you trail behind. You let him lead you quietly out back in the street. You give your thanks to the driver as the doors close. 

He can’t let go of your hand, though he knows now would’ve been a good time to do it. His grip only grows tighter. 

“Let's go find somewhere to sit,” He offers. You squeeze his hand this time and don’t look away. 

“Okay,” 

He tries to keep pace with you this time, instead of walking ahead. Your strides are shorter than his so he’s careful that you don’t fall behind. Your eyes still have that watery look to them but you’re no longer trembling from fear. Just the cold, if anything. 

And your heartbeat no longer sounds so hazardous. Gojo is still restless, still fidgety. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin but it’s not really for you. 

You find a bench, eventually - in the middle of the long walk-way just a distance away from a playground. Gojo juts his chin out towards it, before turning over to look at you.

“Let’s go sit,” 

You nod as you walk together towards it. You sit first, and Gojo finally lets go of you. He sits besides you. There’s a minute where the whole world is deathly quiet. There should be something calm about it, but it isn’t. You’re no longer terrified, and a distance away. There’s no danger lurking in the dark and there’s no cars passing or children crying. 

Everything is calm and silent, but Gojo couldn’t feel more unease if he tried. He thinks he hides it well. But there’s that itch again, in a place behind his ribs he can’t reach into and he finds it hard to breathe. 

“So,” He starts, breaking the tension “I’m guessing it’s not a friend,” 

The stupid joke makes a smile appear on your lips. It’s small, but Gojo takes some comfort in it anyway. You wipe away your lower lash gently, a wet laugh leaving your mouth. 

“No, not a friend. He’s uhm… a parent from my school.” 

“The one who’s been bothering you for all these weeks?” Gojo supplies. You turn your head, eyes widened in surprise. Gojo lets out a breathy laugh. 

“You….knew?” 

“Not about him specifically, but I could tell something was bothering you,” He admits, and then adds “I always pay attention to my favorite person, you know?” 

The addition has you looking away, but Gojo doesn’t mind. You sigh, rubbing your face with your palms before leaning back against the bench with your head hanging off the edge. 

“He’s the parent of one of my students. Akio, he’s a good kid. A really well-behaved one but… too well-behaved. Never raises his hand, never complains or says he won’t do something.” 

“I’m guessing that sent off an alarm bell, huh?” 

You nod softly. 

“Yeah. I figure it was something at home, but I’d met his mom prior and she was a real angel. Then, his dad came to visit. The man we met at the store, and I knew right away.” 

Gojo feels his jaw clench listening to you talk. 

“But still, you know, my job as a teacher is to be as respectful as I can. I always politely declined him when he would make comments and remained professional. Eventually, his mom stopped coming altogether and—I tried, I really—but he…” You trail off, a lump in your throat. He watches as tears form in your eyes, his anger getting more and more tangible. He tries not to express it, putting a hand on your knee “He just… kept pushing. A-and once, he looked like he was gonna get violent. I made a report, you know, to the school. But you know how they are,” 

“They never even bothered investigating huh,” Gojo sneers. You laugh a tired sort of laugh. 

“Of course not. After that, I just tried to endure it. And I know he hasn’t done anything technically, but it doesn’t really feel like a matter of if but when,” You explain haphazardly.  Gojo squeezes where his hand rests. 

“I believe you. It’s okay,” He says as soothingly as he possibly can “It’s okay. I’m here,” 

There’s a sense of relief that washes over your whole body and before he knows it, you’re breaking down. He feels a lot of emotions all at the same time, watching your little frame as you lose it so easily in front of him. A part of him is so furious he wants to make it everyone's problem. Another part of him is so deeply sad knowing you’ve suffered all on your own. 

And the most notable part of him is the sense of protectiveness, burrowing inside of him. A sense of possession. It sinks into him like teeth, seeps into his blood like the venom of an animal so that he bleeds and breathes it. Gojo can’t shake that deep sense of urgency, a nameless and faceless desire that consumes him. He shudders.. He holds it in, all of it. Cups his hands so desperately so that it doesn’t spill over and touch you, the ink of ruining the soft white of your clothes. 

In a world that you have made beautiful, desire is ugly. Hideous and infectious, it tears Gojo limb from limb. It makes Gojo feel on edge. Gojo should not desire for any more than what he was. People always die when he does. 

But maybe they don’t have to. Maybe, he can protect you. He can keep you safe. He wants to keep you safe. He wants to keep you all to himself.

It’s in an effort to soothe those feelings that his arms find themselves around your form. It’s the first time you’ve hugged in such an intimate way. Where expects you to turn away - you don’t. 

Instead you cling, your arms around his jacket and your face in his chest. You cry and weep and sob and you look so small like that. You look like you’ll collapse and Gojo holds you. Says it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay as you let it all out. It must feel good to finally let it all out, after everything and he doesn’t intend to stop you. 

“I promise I’ll always protect you from now on,” And he says it, and means it. If you feel the weight of his statement, you don’t let it show “It’s okay. You can cry if you need too,” 

You cry and cry and cry. 

And Gojo thinks the call of heaven is nothing in comparison to the sound. 

__

In the end, Gojo can’t forgive him. 

It’s not without effort. He tries to do it at your request, because after all the tears he wants to help. He says he can maybe pull some strings. But that gentle heart you have declines. You don’t want it to become a big deal. You feel a little better knowing he knows. In the end, you don’t want it to affect that brats reputation. 

“You know how kids can be,” You say, voice full of concern for everyone but yourself “I don’t want to make school life anymore difficult than his life at home must be,” 

So, Gojo tries to listen to you. But days pass, and days turn into weeks. In the end, a month goes by and Gojo is full of terrible and divine anger. 

In the end, Gojo won’t forgive him. Gojo can’t let it go. He feels so righteous in it, he starts avoiding his own eyes in the mirror. There’s something inside of them he has no desire to look at. Eyes that tell all, Gojo turns away from their gaze. Gojo is angry for you, and it’s not in his character to do nothing about it. 

He decides on less of a whim that it looks. He wonders about alternatives, if there’s anything that can stop this feeling from imploding inside of him but nothing comes.

When he decides that nothing can be done, Gojo goes out of his way to start watching him. 

Like any mission, he needs enough background information to map out a plan.  He wants to make sure that it has virtually no pushback for you. There’s always a possibility you’ll get caught in the crossfire and that’d be the worst possible outcome. Gojo can protect you from a lot of things, but he’s not as confident about the law. 

(Not that he can’t. Just not in the good, right way he’s sure you want him to protect you in. Gojo’s love is divine, not right. There’s nothing in this world Gojo can’t shield you from, because he’s the strongest.)

 He also can’t make anything obvious or leave any room for interpretation. If there’s anything that feels off when the reports go live - you’ll stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. He thinks in the instance you find out (about all of it, the premeditation  especially) you’d probably tuck your tail and run. 

(Gojo would find you. But the chase means there’s some time you’re apart. The thought is almost nauseating.) 

He likes that you’re curious about everything. In most instances anyways. But he thinks it’s better to leave you in the dark sometimes. Having you worry about it would ruin the point of this. And sometimes, it’s better not knowing every detail. Honeytraps are more ethical than nets. 

He’s doing it for you in the end, like he does most things. And the kid will benefit, maybe even get some sympathy from his classmates for a while about the tragedy that befell his father. Gojo thinks it’s a good plan because no one loses.  It’s a lot like killing a curse. 

It only takes two weeks to learn virtually everything there is to know. A guy like that doesn’t have much he can hide. 

The name of his target, he learns, is Nobu Watanabe. Father to Akio Watanbe and ex-husband to Akiko Watanbe. He’s a recently released felon (let off on good behavior) with a battery and assault with a deadly weapon charge. He’s a college drop-out, and has been working a lot of odd-jobs since he was 16.

His personality is bad, worse is his drinking and smoking habits. He’s often found drunk in the street, and has a track record for single nights spent in a cell. His ex-wife is usually the one bailing him out. Gojo can’t help but feel sorry for her. Somehow, he doubts that he’s good to her. He’s a deadbeat father through and through. He only offers to pick up his kid to harass you. At least from what he can tell. 

He isn’t as awful to his kid as everyone else. Gojo doubts that was always the case. Akio isn’t a bad kid, but it’s hard not to notice the way the light in his eyes disappears when his father comes around to pick him up. A head always looking towards the floor, hands tucked in his pockets. 

It’s difficult for Gojo to feel any guilt about what he’s doing. After everything, he can’t find it in himself to feel any regret. 

His target is currently working at a dock, not too far from the city. He seems to work there most days, working at a bar on the weekends. It’s a big company that handles foreign goods that he does physical labor for. Lifting and moving boxings, checking inventory - it’s not a complicated affair. 

If there’s not a major shipment, he still seems to clock in so he’s definitely paid some kind of hourly wage. He smokes often on the job, but works diligently when there is something to do. An easy but physical job, he’s strong. Gojo can understand what intimidates you about him. 

Gojo, though, isn’t intimidated by him at all. 

He waits a week before he takes action. To shake off anyone or anything that might be trailing him, and to make sure that everything is the same as he observed. That his schedule wasn’t going to change. A week passes, and when Gojo has confirmation - he decides to do what he does best. 

Gojo Satoru decides to play God on a Sunday.

Sunday is a day shipments come in and a day he often works alone. The pay is better on Sunday and Nobu is the only one on his shift who takes it. He’s not expected to finish the strenuous work because he’s alone for such a long stretch of time - just to make a dent in it. The people at the next shift are the ones who finish the job. 

He starts his day as early as 6am. It’s near winter, so the world is painted in a miraculously melancholy blue. Gojo follows him that morning. He knows the route well enough to trail behind him and not attract any attention. They pass together, turning corners and taking bus rides until Nobu’s finally in at his job. 

There, they part briefly. His target goes into the big white building and he goes on top. Gojo has to teleport to the roof because everything is gated with security cameras covering every inch of the property. Following him puts Gojo at risk. So he waits on top of the building, hands in his pocket and pacing until Nobu comes out the otherside to the docks. His jumpsuit put on haphazardly, only half-pulled up to his waist, with a clipboard and pen as a bunch of boxes waiting for him to check them. 

After Gojo confirms that he’s alone, he lies in wait. He sits and waits - watching as the clouds pass. Watching the open sea, how it remains unchanging no matter what boats pass through to shore. He looks at his phone every now and again to check the time. 

It shouldn’t be too difficult to actually do it. 

You know, if Gojo turns his infinity on, there’s nothing in the world that can touch him. He can touch it, but it can’t touch him. There will always be a barrier between his hands and the world. Between him and the known universe, a bridge that started burning the minute Gojo was born into it. If Gojo turns on his infinity, there’s no way to leave traces of him behind. 

Did you know? If Gojo turns on his infinity, his fingerprints don’t show up. There’s no DNA to find. Not a trace of him in the world that he hasn’t left purposefully. Even if Gojo chokes him with his hands bare hands - he wouldn’t be touching him. But Gojo can feel it. Feel his pulse, feel his breathing come down slowly.

If there’s such a thing as heaven or hell, Gojo wants to ask God about being homicidal. If it was a flaw of human design or their Lord reflected inside of them. 

He lies in wait on top of the roof until 7. 

When 7 hits, the world around him is still so dark. No one kills in broad daylight. The heavens are murky, sky full of black clouds like puffs of smoke. It’s freezing cold, a spine-tingling chill making its way up Gojo’s skin and hardening his hands. . Gojo waits for the doors of the garage to creak open. When the sound echoes into the air, a metal screech in the void, Gojo stands to his feet. 

He jumps to the ground, landing with a dull thud. He comes out unscathed, a cat on his feet. He dusts off the front of his pants. Nobu hasn’t taken notice of him. Gojo takes a look around them. There’s no cameras in the warehouse. Gojo waits alone in the dark. 

Five minutes. It’s five minutes when all of the lights go out. 

“What the fuck?” Nobu mumbles, dropping his clipboard on top of a bunch of boxes, running a hand through his hair. Gojo waits in silence, watches as he turns around. 

When he finally does, he jumps back in shock. Gojo feels a cold chill run through his body. 

“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” Nobu asks. Gojo grins. 

“Ah, you don’t remember? We met a few weeks ago! We had a nice little exchange and everything.” He says, voice going higher by an octave. The man in front of him stares, off put by Gojos’ presence. He stumbles in his thinking, his body tensing up. 

“Who the…what the fuck is going on?” 

“Hey, don’t be so scared,” Gojo says, then uses his teleport to phase himself closer. Nobu’s eyes widen, shocked. Scared out of his wits, with the story of heartbeat like he’s being hunted. “Tough guy like you has nothing to be scared of, does he?” 

“W-w-what…how did you…” 

Gojo shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry about it, man.” He says, voice calm and smooth and even. He’s surprised by how his emotions feel in his body. Like he’s so angry that he’s not. There’s something inside of him, the white waters that wade, that Gojo can feel. It’s strange “We’ve got about 5 minutes till the lights come back on.” 

For a while, they stand at a draw. No one moves. Not him, or Nobu, or the open oceans. It’s quiet for a dock. Even quieter for a dock in Tokyo, and Gojo’s not even using his abilities. He probably won’t need too, other than infinity - there’s not any good reason for him to exert himself any more than he must. 

Weeks of planning, weeks of watching, weeks of waiting. Nothing feels like it matters at the moment. He wants it to be over soon-ish. 

It’s not that Gojo is particularly sadistic. 

It’s just that, everything feels like it’s teetering over this very moment. He thinks it to himself quietly like someone trying to remember where they last left their keys. 

Briefly, Gojo thinks “I can’t go back,” after this. In the back of his head he just knows.

He envies this aggravating strangers' ignorance, too. 

“What do you want from me?” He says, stuttering - a gasping breath of fear in his lungs that snaps Gojo out of his thoughts. Gojo shrugs. 

“Nothing, really. I’m not short on money, you know? I make a good living,” He says, spouting off about nothing as he closes the gap between them. Stepping closer infinitely until Gojo backs him into the garage, into the tall tower of boxers where there’s no cameras and no witnesses “Hm…is there anything you can do to fix this?” 

No, Gojo answers mostly to himself, But wouldn’t that be nice? 

“P-please, I have—” 

“A son right? And an ex-wife, and a dead mom in Saitama. You didn’t think I came here without doing any research, did you? We’re the same in that way you know, I might be a frivolous - but hell if I’m not diligent,” 

He looks like he’s going to throw up. Gojo remains indifferent. 

“Who are you?” He asks, this time really wondering. With that hoarse voice of curiosity, of defeat.

Gojo hums.

“Good question. Who do you think I am?” Gojo poses and lifts his hands up. He puts them around his neck, pushing hard until his back is against the stack of boxes. It’s dark but Gojo can see everything. He keeps his open, tightening the grip of his hands slowly. 

Nobu tries to spit something out but the words get sputtered, muffled by lack of oxygen. 

“Do you think I’m a devil? An angel? God? I wonder,” Gojo says, staring. With his mask on, but his eyes opened wide. “Guess I’m kind of like a boogeyman,” 

Gojo can feel it. His body underneath his palms, gasping and struggling for air. He can feel his hands try to pry his hands off. He can feel his body slowly start to lose its air, how he deflates like a balloon. Gojo is unmoving, unfazed, unworried. He’s near motionless except the hard grip of his hand on his neck and the pulse that slows gently under his palms. 

It takes 5 minutes, maybe less, with all the strength in both his hands. Gojo isn’t counting. He holds on for maybe 2 minutes after that, just to make sure it’s not a fluke. He waits till the heart stops sounding in his ears and until the body is completely limp except for where Gojo is holding him away. He goes out sad. Useless, even. 

When Gojo stops, Nobu’s body drops to the floor with a dull thud. He stares at it for a while, then sighs. It’d be nice if he could just leave it there, but he does his due diligence. Picks it up from the ground with relative ease, over his shoulders. 

He walks it out towards the dock - the very edge, before tossing it in water and watching it sink. When it disappears from his sight, Gojo is left with his reflection in the deep blue. He meets his eyes for the first time in weeks, and knows he’s seeing exactly what he thought he would. 

His anger has settled, just barely. Just enough to be able to see the change in his own vision. With his Six Eyes, Gojo can see that there’s no turning back.

 With his mask on, he looks at himself, warped in the vision of the sea. The vision of him—crystalline and white and blue—murky and moving. 

Gojo jumps to the roof and turns the light on again. The power comes back. 

A dog barks distantly, over and over and over. Gojo watches the sun rise alone. 

__

The following weeks pass without a hitch. Gojo feels like nothing has changed. 

(But that’s not true. Everything is different. The same but different)

At the two week mark, winter has set in and Gojo is spending time with you in your apartment together. Currently, you’re cooking dinner (after carefully instructing Gojo to stay put in the living room.) Gojo is sitting watching T.V. He’s helping you grade papers at the coffee table, humming to himself. 

It’s about 7 when the news starts to play. A local news channel and a familiar face on the T.V. Gojo is surprised when the breaking news report airs. 

“Two weeks ago, a missing persons report was filed for ex-convict Nobu Watanbe. Sources say he was last seen working at a Dock in Tokyo - which experienced a power outage. It’s reported that Nobu seemed to have gone missing at the time, and hasn’t made contact with anyone since then. Could this be the work of a…” 

The rest of the report  Gojo tunes out. He turns his head slightly to see if you’ve noticed. Your eyes are glued to it., standing and staring silently. You place your spatula on a towel on the counter.

“We got word about a week prior to this,” You say, breaking the silence after some time without Gojo prompting. He looks at you “Akio started coming with his mom again and she gave me the story. It wasn’t unusual for him to up and disappear, but he hadn’t done so since Akio was born,” 

“That so?” Gojo says, nonplussed. You nod. 

“I feel guilty but,” You trail off, rubbing your arm anxiously “I can’t help but be… relieved. Just a little. I don’t want the guy to be dead or anything, but it,” 

Gojo stops you in the middle of your sentence. 

“You don’t have anything you need to feel guilty about,” He corrects, voice stern. You give him a sad look but he remains firm in his stance “He was harassing you for weeks. It’s only natural that you feel relieved, you know?” 

You’re not entirely content with the response, but you seem to know well enough this isn’t something Gojo will compromise on. You sigh, looking down at the floor. 

“Yeah. That’s true I guess, but still. I wonder what happened to him, or if he just decided to run away,” 

Gojo pretends to think about it. 

“Maybe. Otherwise…guess it was God’s divine punishment,” He says, continuing to grade papers. He doesn’t even look up as he says it. You let out a puff of air through your nose in amusement . 

“Yeah,” You say, “Maybe. I should thank him some time,”

Gojo hums.

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” 

[stargazeraldroth]

I do indeed know the Gin Lore!!! If you wanna look yourself, the creator has a blog on tumblr for him and his AUs (Siiversans), and! If you look at Dreemurr-Skelememer’s Gink tag on their blog (which, speaking of, they! Are the creator!!!), they have some cute stuff, too! They even made them an adorable ship child named Sterling, it’s all so cute- And! Gin/Ink is actually canon to the AU, I believe! Though not to Ink’s story, they take care to mind Comyet’s boundaries.

Long story short (though I can try and explain more, if you’d like!), he’s an AU Sans that was on the verge of death as a child, only to be taken in by a spirit (his version of Gaster), and this, he lived! Unfortunately, a single touch of a human would kill him, aaand guess what’s in his AU’s story? Guess what happens to him.

Now, imagine you’re Ink, right? You’ve met someone you’ve fallen in love with, enough so that, in some universes, you have a child together, and he loves you in turn, and it’s great! But he’s going to die. You know he’s going to, it’s in the script, and you can’t interfere, even if it kills you. Even if you hate yourself for it.

(I have many feelings on Gink if you can’t tell-)

Anyways, moving on- I was thinking of rejection sensitive dysphoria, but! Looking up reflex sympathetic dystrophy, I think that could fit, too! I am sorry that you have problems like that, though- I won’t press, but I hope things get better for you soon! As for Ink- He really is going through it here, huh. And of course he wouldn’t believe them- They’ve already lied to him once, and betrayed him in the one of the worst possible ways, how could he ever trust them not to do that again? Of course, they’d argue that they needed to, he doesn’t know what’s best for himself, if he would just trust them this will all be okay! And it’s just. Not a good time.

Oh trust me, you’re good, I also project that onto him and damn near wrote autistic instead of artistic-

I imagine that the period of time after they rescue Ink and before he really starts to let himself heal is just. A lot of Cross carting him around on his back or in a princess carry, and coaxing him into eating or drinking something.

Error is the embodiment of having no idea what the fuck he’s doing when it comes to other people, it’s hilarious and I wish people leaned into that more. And besides! Error has haphephobia, Ink is an artist and likes brushes, clearly this is the best possible solution to the problem!

I do know that clip, and I do believe it would be accurate- Truly, Error is the Godzilla Threshold of the Multiverse (as is Ink, though he’s, uh. Indisposed, at the moment), and it’s only made better by him being. You know. Error. I do agree though, I wish more people used his manbaby, tantrum throwing self without turning him into a martyr or a saint or a god or something. People can write what they want, obviously, but I just.- He’s so fun like this! And I honestly wouldn’t even call him truly evil, either- I’ve always viewed him and Ink and being on opposite ends of the Chaotic Neutral scale, you know? And it also plays into my own, largely divergent forced god AU… But I’ll not get into that (though of course, I can explain a bit if you’d like?), this’ll be long enough, haha. Just! I like talking about this!

Something of a Monkey’s Paw, now wasn’t it? And! Yes, I do believe he doesn’t remember anything from his AU- It really does make things worse for him, the poor guy. He’s suddenly got emotions that he can’t properly process because he isn’t familiar with experiencing them like this, he’s in the worst possible place, and he can’t hope they’ll drain away eventually, because it’s coming from a soul. And hell, who’s to say the Overwrite didn’t edit his soul so that he couldn’t destroy it again? Him dying like that wouldn’t be hat Blue and Dream wanted, after all… As for Broomie… Um. Uuuhhh. Fuck, I’m sorry best brush, maybe Cross or Core rescued it???

I adore the idea of Shattered and Ink together, just. Interacting. In happier, healthier universes, usually, or at least one where Ink isn’t a victim of like, kidnapping, but things like this are Also fun and nice to think about, even if Ink wouldn’t agree (again, the poor guy-). Though it is funny to think that Shattered just. Bundles him up in his tentacles on his back. It’s a funny image to me- But! Humor aside! I’m always a sucker for the idea that AUs and stories being destroyed- Or wrongly edited, in this case- Cause him pain, but even if it didn’t, I think the shock (and emotional pain) would unseat him enough for them to restrain him.

The three of them get locked in the Doodlesphere to the relief of Blue and Dream- Clearly this is the Ideal Protection Scenario! And the dread of Ink- He would like out now, please and thank you creators!!! It’s probably a lot of them chasing him around the islands or space or however you interpret it of the Doodlesphere while he runs screaming and tries to hide.

Nightmare… Man, what would he even be doing, here? Would he feel any pity for Ink, or does he just think this is all hilarious?

I am eagerly awaiting to add Gin/Ink to my list of ships, but I don't know anything about their dynamic. Spill all the juicy, juicy lore that you can, Anon! I probably won't get the chance to actually go looking anytime soon- both because of laziness and other things I actually have to do. But now that you mention it, I think I've actually seen something for Gin before- I don't know if this is part of his story, I think it was more of an Ask thing, but he got deleted by Error or something??? And Ink woke up from it, so it was a nightmare??? Error. My man. My manbaby. One of my favorites. What the hell did you do this time?

Why not give him both, Anon? Why not give him both? I think the rejection one would be the most applicable to this situation, actually, now that I'm thinking back on it.

I love that image. Cross just being a pillar of support for Ink during all of this. Lord knows they could both use someone to truly confide in.

"Error is the embodiment of having no idea what the fuck he's doing when it comes to other people" that's a whole mood. Me too, Error. Me too. Even without the part about other people. I never know or understand what I'm doing, even when it's something I told myself to do lmao. He tries to cheer Ink up with his puppets, to varying degrees of success.

I don't mind people turning him into a god, I'm guilty of that myself, I just get mostly irritated when people make him a saint and make Ink the epitome of all Evil & Sin. Especially because I'm finding more and more people on TikTok who actually believe the Balance and Error's "saintly" behavior is canon to his character (then again, it's TikTok. What did I expect?) Ngl it's getting to the point where I'm questioning if the canon lore changed or not. Like- correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't Error destroy the AUs because he pretty much just... doesn't like them?? He doesn't think they should exist??? I'm not trying to sound like a btch or like I'm trying to control what people write, I would hate myself if I ever became like that, but I do wish I could find more stuff that uses a not-so-righteous Error, y'know? Let my man be in the wrong! Let him throw a temper tantrum! Let him destroy for the sake of it RAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!

(Feel free to talk about your AU if you want to, Anon. I can't promise that I'll give good commentary or anything, but I can listen/read whatever you say!)

Smh Anon, you forget about the real star of this show: Broomie /j. The thing is, Broomie is kinda like Ink's legitimate other half. They've been together since Ink first got splashed with the paints, and it's like an even closer friend than Dream would've been. So for Broomie to suddenly be gone, with no sign of returning... on top of everything else, he basically just had his Best Friend murdered.

Oh yes! I love the idea of Shattered and Ink having a healthy, friendly dynamic! Unfortunately, that does not happen here. Dw Anon, Ink's used to this kind of torment from me. Just ask @lix88888 about it if you're really curious. I'm sure she has a few favorites out of my tormenting episodes. If there was ever a time when Ink was praying for the Creators to have divine intervention, this is it. Every time, he's just gonna get caught because there's nowhere he can escape to. Maybe he can hide for a good while in the beginning, no one knows the Doodlesphere better than he does, but they're going to find him eventually.

Nightmare's basically like us: he's watching all of his go down and eating some popcorn. This is peak comedy to him! And their corruption- especially Dream's! What a twist!