#still not fully thought out this character yet

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ what loving you feels like to them (pt. 6 - octavinelle) 𓆝 .ᐟ

synopsis: have you ever wondered what falling in love feels like for each twisted wonderland boy? this series explores love from their perspective—how their personalities, experiences, and desires shape what loving you means to them. follow me to see the next part!

featured character(s): azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech.

content warning(s): none.

a/n: what loving you feels like to them might occasionally use the same words, but those words mean something a little different for each of them. it might sound familiar, but it's still their own!

azul ashengrotto

loving you feels like being swept away by an unstoppable current for azul ashengrotto—inevitable, overwhelming, and carrying him to places he never dared to dream of. for someone who has spent most of his life meticulously planning, calculating, and staying two steps ahead, love is a variable he cannot fully predict or control. it’s both exhilarating and unnerving, a kind of risk he would never have dared to take before you came into his life.

azul has always carried a deep-seated insecurity beneath his polished exterior. years of being ridiculed as a child for his appearance have made him fiercely determined to prove his worth through power, success, and control. yet loving you doesn’t feel like a negotiation or a transaction—it feels like surrendering to something he can’t quantify. it’s raw and messy and completely unlike the smooth, calculated persona he presents to the world. you don’t look at him for what he can offer, for his intellect or his business acumen; you see him, the parts of himself he tries to hide, and you love him for them. that terrifies him. but it also makes him feel something he’s never felt before: truly enough.

loving you feels like the gentle pull of the moon on the tides, constant and inescapable, drawing him toward something he never thought he could have. it’s the way you make him feel safe enough to lower his walls, to let go of the mask he’s worn for so long. around you, he can be vulnerable without fear of being judged. you’re the one who notices when his smiles don’t quite reach his eyes, the one who knows when he’s tired of putting on a show. with you, he doesn’t have to be the untouchable azul ashengrotto; he can just be azul.

at the same time, loving you stirs a fierce protectiveness within him. he’s spent years honing his ability to turn the tables on anyone who dares challenge him, but with you, it’s different. he doesn’t want to shield you out of strategy or obligation; he wants to protect you because you matter to him in ways he’s still learning to put into words. you’re more than a part of his world—you’ve become his most cherished treasure, something he would protect with everything he has.

for azul, loving you feels like finding a pearl in the depths of the sea—a treasure so rare and precious that he can hardly believe it’s his. it’s a reminder that even in a world driven by deals and ambition, there are things that can’t be earned or bargained for, things that simply exist in their beauty. loving you is terrifying and freeing all at once, and though it challenges everything he thought he knew about himself, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. you are the one thing he never saw coming, the one thing he never wants to lose.

jade leech

loving you feels like curiosity turned obsession for jade leech.

to jade, love is something foreign and utterly fascinating. it’s a deep ocean he’s never fully explored, and you are the mystery hidden beneath its surface. his love for you isn’t loud or obvious; it’s quiet, calculated, and deliberate, like the way he nurtures rare plants in his terrariums. loving you is a process, one he savors as much as he analyzes, peeling back the layers of who you are, uncovering your quirks, your fears, and your dreams. for jade, this discovery is intoxicating, a puzzle he never tires of solving.

and yet, it’s not just fascination. loving you feels like control slipping from his grasp in a way he never anticipated. jade is meticulous, always composed, always in control of himself and his surroundings. but with you, there are moments when he feels unbalanced, when the depth of his emotions surprises even him. it’s as if the current is pulling him somewhere unknown, somewhere dangerous, yet he can’t resist being swept along. loving you is a contradiction: it makes him feel both completely exposed and utterly alive.

for someone who rarely shows his true intentions, loving you feels like a quiet surrender. you see sides of him no one else does, the softness beneath the sharp edges, the warmth behind the cold, polite exterior. it’s disarming and thrilling all at once. you make him feel seen, not just as azul’s clever right-hand man or as the more composed leech twin, but as jade. you notice the details no one else bothers to see, and in return, jade finds himself wanting to give you everything, to open up the world to you as if you were the only person in it.

yet, there's also a possessiveness to his love, a quiet but unyielding need to keep you close. jade is not one to display his emotions openly, but beneath the calm exterior lies an intensity he keeps carefully hidden. loving you is like uncovering a sunken ship filled with untold treasures—a rare discovery he'll guard fiercely, no matter what. his protectiveness is subtle, woven into the fabric of his interactions with you, but it's unshakable all the same.

loving you feels like tending to a rare and delicate flower—something beautiful that requires both care and patience. you are the one thing in his life that cannot be manipulated or controlled, and instead of frustrating him, it fascinates him. he finds joy in watching you bloom, in learning how to nurture the connection between you. loving you is more than fascination; it’s a game he never wants to win, a puzzle he never wants to solve—because the joy isn’t in the answer, but in the endless discovery of you.

floyd leech

loving you feels like chaos and calm all at once for floyd leech.

floyd’s life has always been shaped by his whims, his moods, and his insatiable need to avoid monotony. to him, the world is a game, and people are pieces he moves and discards when they stop being interesting. but you? you’re different. you’re the one thing he can’t figure out, the one person he doesn’t want to toss aside. loving you feels like the kind of chaos he craves, but it also unsettles him in ways he’s never experienced before.

floyd thrives on extremes. he’s not used to balance or moderation, and his feelings for you are no exception. loving you is all-consuming—intense, raw, and sometimes overwhelming. it’s like the ocean at its most turbulent, waves crashing against his heart with a force that leaves him breathless. you challenge him, intrigue him, and keep him guessing, and that’s what he loves most. with you, there’s no risk of boredom, no stale routine. every moment feels alive, charged with a kind of energy he thought only existed in fleeting thrills.

loving you is something he never thought he’d allow, something that sneaks past his defenses and takes root before he even realizes it. floyd has never been one to settle down or feel tethered to anyone, yet with you, he doesn’t feel trapped. he feels seen. you don’t flinch at his unpredictability or try to smooth out his rough edges. you accept him as he is—moods, sharp teeth, and all—and that makes him want to keep you close, tighter than he’s ever held (squeezed) anything before.

it’s not easy for floyd to process emotions like this. he’s used to acting on impulse, but loving you makes him hesitate. it makes him think about what it means to want someone so deeply, to be afraid of losing them. it brings out a possessive side of him, but it’s more than just wanting to keep you close. it’s the fear of you walking away, of you deciding that the chaos he brings isn’t worth it. the idea of losing you is one of the few things that can genuinely make him feel vulnerable.

for floyd, loving you feels like a temptest—untamed, intense, and utterly consuming. it’s a force of chaos that turns his world upside down, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. you’re the only one who can keep up with him, the only one who doesn’t try to dull his edges, and for that, he loves you with every ounce of his chaotic, unpredictable heart. you’re his favorite thing in the world, the one person he never gets tired of, and he’ll make sure you know it every single day.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[aylacavebear]

Bloodlines & Fate Chapter 1

Being Touched should have been a blessing—a mark of honor in your lineage, celebrated by your pack since childhood. But to you, it's always made you feel like an outsider, never really fitting in anywhere. Yeah, you had your best friend Jess, but for you, something always felt like it was missing. The land your pack runs on during the full moons brings you a sense of peace you don't fully understand, at first.

Paring: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader/You

Word Count: 4356

Warning: Angst, longing. Not much that I can think of.

A/N: So, a couple characters in this one I pulled from a couple other shows. Professor Rober Zimmerman is based off of The Doctor from Star Trek Voyager as I absolutely love that character. And, Professor Alaric Saltzman from The Vampire Diaries. Another loved character.

A/N: It's my first attempt with an A/B/O fic, be gentle please. I hope you like it. Not sure how many chapters this will be yet.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1

“God, Mom,” you muttered as she twisted your hair into a neat braid, her hands working with practiced ease. “I’m so done with this. It’s been six months since I presented, and it’s been non-stop alphas and their parents since. I can’t keep doing this—I need a break.”

“Sweetie, I know,” your mom said, her voice soothing but worn. “You’ve been so patient. Just one more week, and you’ll get the break you deserve. Everyone knows you need it.”

Her words were meant to calm you, but they only added to your irritation. How could anything think this was sustainable? At first, the idea of meeting your soulmate had filled you with cautious excitement. But after two solid months of awkward introductions, forced smiles, and watching alpha after alpha recoil at your scent, the novelty had worn off. Now, it was exhausting, and even your schoolwork had started to slip.

That thought made something click. Narrowing your eyes, you turned toward her. “Wait a minute. This is about my grades, isn’t it? My tutor said something to you, didn’t he?” 

Your mom froze for a moment before letting out a long sigh, her hands falling to her sides. “Yes,” she admitted, her tone tinged with guilt. “He told us your grades were slipping, and we all agreed you needed time to reset. The pack is just trying to help you, honey. No one wants you to feel like this any longer than you have to.” You inhaled deeply, holding back a biting retort. She wasn’t wrong—your pack always looked out for one another. You’d seen firsthand what it was like for wolves who had to wait too long to find their soulmates. Your cousins were living proof. Twins, like their mates, they hadn’t met them until their late twenties. You remembered the strain it put on them, how restless and incomplete they’d been until fate finally stepped in.

Still, the constant parade of alphas was suffocating. “Fine,” you said, standing up and crossing to the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, the simple purple dress draping neatly over your frame. The lace trim along the hemline was delicate, almost fragile, like the image your pack was so determined to project for you.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you muttered. It was an image that felt like a lie, but you kept that to yourself.

Your mother gave you a sympathetic smile but didn’t press further. She followed as you left your room, descending to the living room where the introductions would take place.

Three of your cousins—tall, broad-shouldered alphas—and two of your uncles stood like sentinels behind the couch, their imposing figures a silent warning to anyone who thought about stepping out of line. You took your place in the middle of the sofa, your mother at your side while your father greeted the family at the door. 

The young alpha they brought barely crossed the threshold before his nose wrinkled in disgust. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as he stumbled back, mumbling an excuse before retreating with his parents.

The next four families fared no better. Each time, the alphas visibly recoiled at your scent, their discomfort impossible to hide. Your pack had long since grown used to it, but outsiders couldn’t seem to stomach it. By the time the last family left, you were seething.

You stormed upstairs, yanking the dress off and tossing it into the back of your closet without a second thought. Pulling on jeans, a tank top, and sneakers, you slipped out the back door, desperate for air and solitude.

All you wanted to do was go to the land and hide in that cabin where you always sat to watch the full moon. Somehow, it brought you comfort, and for some reason, you didn’t feel so lonely. Since that wasn’t an option, the area behind your home of dense forest would have to suffice. 

Your cousins followed at a respectful distance, knowing better than to crowd you when you were like this. Wolves were social, drawn to comfort and connection. You, however, were different. Your feline instincts demanded solitude, and when cornered, you lashed out. You’d done it before, unintentionally, but the lesson had stuck.

The late summer air was warm, but the forest canopy above offered shade, the dappled sunlight creating patterns on the soft earth beneath your feet. The songs of birds filled the silence, soothing your frayed nerves.

Flexing your hands, you extended your claws, the sharp tips glinting faintly in the light. With a quick leap, you scaled the nearest tree, your claws finding purchase in the bark. You pushed higher, moving from branch to branch until you were far above the ground, where no wolf could follow.

Settling into a comfortable nook, you leaned against the trunk, finally allowing yourself to exhale. Up here, surrounded by the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of life below, the tension in your chest eased. It wasn’t where you wanted to be, but it would suffice, for now.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of gold and amber, you stayed in your perch, watching until the last traces of daylight faded. Only then did you climb down, your heart heavy with the knowledge that tomorrow would bring more of the same.

—--------------

That entire week felt like a waking nightmare, even though the alphas’ and their parents’ faces provided fleeting amusement. You’d learned to find humor in their disgusted expressions—it was easier than giving in to the ache threatening to break you. Tears would only worry the pack, and you’d do anything to avoid that. But no matter how much you masked it, your parents could sense the strain in your scent. That’s why they’d agreed to spread out the meetings, though it didn’t erase the sheer volume of introductions still looming over you.

By the end of that week, you were ready to tear your hair out. The blue dress you’d worn was discarded onto the closet floor, forgotten as you flung open drawers and started packing for the cabin. “Sweetie,” your mother’s voice came softly from the doorway, her worry laced with the gentle tone she reserved just for you. “We can smell how frustrated you are, even downstairs. Is there anything we can do to help?”

Her concern made your throat tighten, but you swallowed it down, shoving a pair of sneakers into your bag. “I just… I need to go to the cabin. I always feel better there. I don’t know why, but I do.”

She nodded, not pressing further, and slipped away to give you space. Alone again, you exhaled shakily, willing yourself to calm down. It wasn’t the pack’s fault—not really—and you hated the idea of burdening them more than you already had. When you finally descended the stairs, your emotions were tethered just tightly enough to avoid questions. “I’m ready,” you said simply.

Your cousins and uncles flanked you in a protective semi-circle, the weight of their presence both reassuring and stifling. Outside, they divided into two vehicles for the drive to the land. It was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of the road beneath the tires, and you found yourself counting the minutes until you’d be alone again.

The land’s familiar sights greeted you like an old friend as the cabin came into view, nestled among the trees. A few families lived here year-round, tending to things between full moons, but for the next two days, the cabin owned by your parents was yours alone. They wouldn’t arrive until the full moon itself, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

After exchanging farewells with your uncles and cousins, you stepped into the cabin, the air inside cool and still. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you let out a long, unguarded sigh. Finally, some breathing room. The tension in your chest began to unravel, bit by bit. No alphas, no schoolwork, no forced smiles, and mostly no responsibilities for a full five days, six if you were lucky. 

As you unpacked, your mind wandered back to when you were twelve, when your parents finally explained just how different you were. It was late afternoon after school, the golden sunlight slanting through your bedroom window as you hunched over your desk, pencil tapping rhythmically against the math assignment your tutor had left you. The work was dull, the equations uninspired. You were eager to finish and move on to the bonus problems—challenges that always seemed to hold your attention far better than the standard curriculum.“Sweetie,” your mother’s voice came softly from the doorway, interrupting your focus. “Your father and I need to talk to you.”

Without glancing up, you murmured, “I’ll be down in a sec.”

You finished the equation you were working on before making your way downstairs, feeling the weight of something unspoken settle over you as you descended. The air in the living room felt heavier than usual, and as you rounded the corner, you found your parents seated on the couch, their hands clasped tightly together. You hesitated before taking a seat across from them in one of the recliners.

They exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Their expressions were a mix of joy and apprehension, a strange duality that only made your chest tighten with unease.

Your mother was the first to speak, her voice trembling slightly. “You have a genetic mutation,” she began, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. “You’ve learned about it in your studies, but… there are things we need to explain. Once you present omega, you won’t be able to shift during the full moon.” Her words were gentle, but you could see the tears she was trying to keep from falling.

The words landed heavily, but she pressed on, her tone gentle. “We know that’s going to be hard for you, but you’ll always be on the land during full moons, and we’re hoping that will help.” Her voice wavered as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

Your father leaned forward, his voice steadier but tinged with an unspoken sadness. “The pack will be there for you, always. Having the Touched mutation is rare—rare and special. After your soulmate finds you and you have pups, they’ll be immune to many illnesses and disorders. That’s something no one will know until they’re tested.”

Some of this wasn’t new to you. You’d pieced together bits and pieces over the years, but the mention of immunity caught your attention. Curiosity flared, and you made a mental note to ask your tutor about it during your next lesson. 

“That’s kinda neat,” you admitted, your tone cautious. “But… why does it seem like there’s a bad side to all this?” 

Your parents exchanged another look, heavier this time, before your father sighed. “Your scent,” he began carefully, “will be unpleasant to others. The only one who will find it pleasing will be your soulmate. Once you present, we’ll set up meetings with alphas and their families. Until your soulmate comes, that’s the best we can do. But After he claims you with his mark, everything will change. You’ll be able to smell the scents of others and their emotions in their scent. You’ll be able to shift during the full moon, and…” your father trailed off at the end, like it was something he didn’t fully want to discuss.

You looked at him, a little puzzled, and tilted your head in curiosity, but your mother chuckled and continued. “You’ll have your first heat, like a normal omega.”

Your eyes went wide, but you giggled. To him, you were still his little girl and he didn’t want you to have to grow up too fast. “I think I’ll be okay. I have Jess and my whole pack.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues as you leaned against the cabin window, exhaling slowly. God, I was so naive back then. It had only been two and a half years, but it felt like a lifetime.

You still hadn’t figured out why being on the land soothed something deep inside you. At first, you’d blamed it on nature, then on the full moon itself, but neither explanation ever quite fit. You’d been here before, between moon cycles, and it hadn’t felt the same. And that one month you hadn’t been on the land for the full moon? Watching from your bedroom window hadn’t brought that same comfort, either. It was a puzzle you were determined to solve.

There was one rule that only applied to you: Stay inside at night. No one had ever explained why. You’d justified it in your own way—telling yourself that your pack didn’t want you to feel left out, that they wanted to protect you from the pain of what you couldn’t have. It had been an easy enough excuse to follow.

Two days later, your parents arrived, along with nearly ten other families. The land was alive with movement and laughter as everyone settled in. You’d helped prepare for the feast the night before, making sure there was plenty of food to fuel the wolves through their shift. These gatherings were some of your happiest moments—when the pack came together like this, when the air buzzed with excitement and belonging.

As the sun set, the pack split off into their groups. Bonded pairs disappeared into the trees. Young, unbonded alphas followed their mentors in another direction. Unbonded omegas went with two haunted pairs to run together, singing to the moon, playing in the forest. Their voices carried through the air, weaving into the night like an ancient melody.

You lingered inside, curling up in the window seat, watching the moon rise. Soon, the howls began—a symphony of voices, familiar and reassuring. But as you listened, a sharp ache settled in your chest. This was why you endured the meeting with the alphas and their parents. This was why you played along with your family’s plans. Only your soulmate could wake your wolf, could bring her to the surface, and make you whole.

But tonight felt… different. 

The pull had always been there—this urge to step outside, to belong—but it had never been this strong. A shiver ran down your spine, and before you realized it, you were standing at the cabin door, fingers curled around the handle. You swallowed hard, breath uneven. The logical part of you screamed to step back. But curiosity had always been your downfall.

The warm night air of summer softly kissed your skin as you closed your eyes and breathed deeply the scents of earth and pine. Being outside felt freeing, far more than just being on the land itself. Then, something stirred. Not around you—inside you. It wasn’t a voice, not quite. More like an instinct, an awareness humming beneath your skin.

Your feet moved before you could second-guess yourself. You knew where your pack was, could feel their presence even from here. And yet, you walked in the opposite direction, toward the trees.

When you finally stopped, moonlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the ground in silver. It was quiet—only the rustling of leaves and distant sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the space.

A warmth washed over you as that gentle stirring inside you grew strong. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back and let out a soft, wavering howl. 

It felt right. Natural

It was a song of loneliness, of longing to belong, of love for your pack. Of the ache that came with not being able to be like them. As your voice faded into the night, a tear slid down your cheek, and you brushed it away with a shaky breath.

Then, another sound.

Your body went rigid. A howl—low and resonant, answering yours from somewhere beyond the fence line. Goosebumps erupted across your skin. It was an alpha. Young. Close.

Fear slithered up your spine. The land was enclosed, meant to keep outsiders away, yet the sound sent a warning thrumming in your bones. Shit, my parents are gonna kill me. You turned on your heel and hurried back to the cabin, heart hammering. The second the door clicked shut, you locked it.

The next two nights, you fought that pull. It was a battle that left your body tense, your chest aching in ways you hadn’t expected. On the third night, you gave in—going back to that spot, one last song to the moon before knowing you’d be going home soon. 

And again, he answered.

Both times, after your song faded into the night, the alpha howled in return.

You didn’t tell your parents. Didn’t tell your pack. If they knew you weren’t following their one rule, you worried they might forbid you from coming to the land at all. There was only one person you could trust with this secret. Jess. Even if she was younger, even if she might not understand completely—she was your best friend. And right now, you needed her more than ever.

Midway through the week, you had Jess over after she’d gotten out of school, desperately needing to tell someone. However, the moment you finished sharing what had happened, you wished you had perhaps kept some of the details to yourself.

Jess practically vibrated with excitement. “Wait. WAIT. So you just stood there, all alone in the dark, and howled? And then he howled back?!”

You nodded.

She clutched her chest. “That is the coolest thing I have ever heard!”

You blinked. “Really?” “Yes! It’s like—like one of those epic adventure stories! Like, you’re this lost princess with a secret power, and he’s the mysterious stranger who—” She stopped mid-sentence, wrinkling her nose. “Ew, wait, no, never mind. That sounds romantic. Gross.” You snickered.

“But still!” Jess leaned in, practically bounding. “What if he’s part of, like, some secret rival pack? Or an exiled prince? Or—ooh!—what if he’s some ancient spirit haunting the land?!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You read way too many books.” “And you don’t read enough!” Jess grinned. “Okay, so what’s the plan? Are we investigating? Do you think he’ll howl next full moon? Are you gonna howl back?!”

You hesitated.

Jess’s grin faded. “Wait… you are gonna howl back, right?” You swallowed hard. “I don’t know yet.” Jess scoffed. “Well, I know. Next time, I’m coming with you.”

You stared at her. “You can’t. You know you aren’t allowed on the land till you present.” Jess pouted. “So? I’ll sneak in your suitcase.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god.” Jess cackled. “This is gonna be awesome.” It wasn’t until a week later, during one of your lessons, that you decided to ask your tutor some questions. You’d spent days carefully figuring out how to word them—how to ask without giving away too much. The last thing you needed was for your tutor to tell your parents.

“So… about Touched,” you began, keeping your tone casual as you pretended to focus on the notes in front of you. “I know they can’t shift during the full moon, and then there’s all that scientific stuff about their genetics, but… is there anything about singing to the moon? Or being able to feel their wolf? Oh—could any of the ones before ever feel, like, a pull toward something?”

The words tumbled out faster than you intended, and when you finally looked up, Professor Robert Zimmerman was watching you with a measured expression.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, then closed the book he’d been teaching from. “There are a few things that have been documented,” he admitted. “I can ask about getting a copy of those records if you’d like to learn more about your mutation,” His voice carried that familiar, steady patience—the kind that always made you feel safe about asking questions, no matter how strange they were.

Excitement flared in your chest. “Please?”

His mouth twitched into one of those small, rare smiles. “I’ll have those for you by Monday. I promise.”

You grinned, barely containing your anticipation as he shifted the lesson back to history. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept drifting—Monday suddenly felt like a lifetime away.

Monday couldn’t get there fast enough for you, and it felt like you were crawling the walls, even when you’d go outside and try to distract yourself. The appointments with meeting alphas had finally dwindled to only after school and only three times a week, with only two families showing up on those days. It helped, but you weren’t getting your hopes up anymore. Most of your pack found their soulmate anywhere from the time they presented up until they were in their mid-twenties. So, you had time and decided not to stress over it anymore. Jess did her best to keep you distracted, filling your afternoons with stories from her school—complaints about teachers, dramatic playground politics, and, most importantly, just how disgusting boys were. That always made you laugh, and part of you missed not getting to experience it with her. Although, you knew you’d miss Professor Zimmerman and all the fun things he gave you to learn. 

By Sunday night, the anticipation was unbearable. You buzzed through your nightly chores, barely able to keep still. So much so that both your parents noticed and debated asking about it when you hugged them goodnight. When you finally crawled into bed, you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. I seriously need to get some sleep. The thought felt like it was on repeat in your head for hours before the depths of sleep found you.

When the doorbell rang at 8:30 the following morning, you dashed toward it, no longer able to keep your excitement contained. Your smile faded to one of confusion and curiosity when you saw an alpha standing next to Professor Zimmerman, tilting your head slightly. “Y/N, this is Professor Alaric Saltzman. He keeps the records you asked me about and he refused to let them out of his sight. So, he’s here to supervise you while you go through them,” Professor Zimmerman explained.

Professor Saltzman chuckled at your expression, but it was clear that your scent bothered him. “We can do it outside, so my scent doesn’t bother you,” you offered, catching the way he subtly controlled his breathing despite his best efforts to hide the discomfort.

“I’ll be alright.” he tried to reassure you with a genuinely friendly, albeit, amused smile.

You stepped aside to let them in, your parents now lingering near the living room. Greetings were exchanged, but you barely acknowledged them, your focus entirely on the files Professor Zimmerman carried as he headed toward the spare room that had been turned into your classroom. You were hot on his heels, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

“These aren’t the originals. They’re copies, but nothing has been redacted,” Professor Zimmerman explained as he set the files on the table in front of you. “Be careful with them, though.” You nodded quickly and pulled the first file closer, your fingers tingling as you carefully flipped it open. The sheer amount of information stunned you. There were far more records than you expected, each documenting a Touched in your lineage—one file for each of them.

Professor Saltzman eventually joined Professor Zimmerman near the whiteboard, the two quietly talking while you lost yourself in the files. Their conversation faded into background noise.

“Is she always this curious?” Saltzman asked, arms crossed as he watched you absorb every word on the page.

Zimmerman exhaled with something between amusement and pride. “Her appetite for knowledge is almost insatiable. She’s asking questions most seniors don’t even think to ask. Sometimes, it’s difficult to keep her engaged because she gets bored so easily.”

Saltzman was quiet for a moment before offering, “If you ever need anything, just ask. It’s rare to find a student who genuinely enjoys learning.”

Zimmerman smiled, “Thanks. She’ll appreciate that. If she keeps this up, she’ll graduate by her sixteenth birthday.”

You barely registered their words as you combed through each record, your focus sharpening when you started noticing patterns. By the fourth file, the similarities were impossible to ignore—so you shifted tactics, scanning for key phrases.

And then, your breath caught.

Every single one of them—every Touched before you—had met their soulmate for the first time when he was in wolf form. Never before.

A  shiver ghosted down your spine, your entire body breaking out in goosebumps. You leaned back in your chair, fingers absently tracing the edge of the page as your mind raced.

Did your parents know this? Had they ever read these files? Should you tell them? Or let them keep setting up meetings, oblivious to the truth?

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Fourteen felt too young to be thinking about a soulmate. The idea of it felt… overwhelming. Maybe even a little terrifying.

But another thought crept in, quieter.

If your parents never read these, maybe that meant you still had time. Maybe it meant you could hold onto being just you for a little while longer. With a slow exhale, you closed the file and looked up at Professor Saltzman. “Thank you, for bringing.” You hesitated, then asked,  Have my parents read them?”

He raised an eyebrow but softened at your expression. “You’re welcome. No, they haven’t. Would you like me to suggest that they do?”

You considered it for a long moment before shaking your head  “No. It’s okay.”

Saltzman nodded, retrieved the files and offering a final, knowing glance before saying his goodbyes. Once he was gone, you turned your attention to Professor Zimmerman as he began your daily lessons. 

He didn’t ask you about the files. He knew better. This had been your request—when you were ready to talk about it, you would. But even as you tried to focus, your thoughts kept circling back, over and over.

An alpha had answered your song.

And now, you weren’t sure how you felt.

----------------------------------------- A/B/O Master List Main Master List Series Master List

Forever Tag List: @roseblue373 @flamencodiva @reignsboy19 @stillhere197 @foxyjwls007

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[mysterialistic]

Review/Ramble on Yingdu and Overall Thoughts

Okay, first of all, I think the fandom needs to chill a bit, especially on Twitter/X, because some people are overdramatizing the criticism from others. Criticizing a piece of media doesn’t mean you hate it, nor does it mean it’s bad—it just means it didn’t fully meet your expectations, and you have a different opinion. It’s as simple as that. Of course, I believe criticism should always come from an objective standpoint, not just for the sake of complaining.

Having said, let’s start rambling!

Yingdu had an amazing start. Those first few minutes, transitioning from the basketball game straight into the scene of Cheng Xiaoshi’s death, were so well done. Overall, the first episode was fantastic—the perfect mix of drama and tension. It answered some of our lingering questions before bringing us back to the Season 1 format, where they tackled individual cases, only for it to all build up to the arc’s main conflict. I won’t go into every single episode since that would make this way too long, but I had to highlight episode 1 because it was my favorite.

There were several aspects of these episodes that I really enjoyed. Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang’s bond was portrayed so well—every little moment between them, every dialogue exchange—it perfectly showed why these two are so willing to risk their lives for each other. I looked forward to seeing their interactions every week, and I was never disappointed.

Xia Fei was also a great addition, and I’m glad they didn’t kill off his character like many people theorized, because he has so much potential. I really enjoyed his complexity—he’s a spy, but he has his own morals and values. He dislikes Liu Xiao, yet he has a close bond with Vein despite his odd personality. He’s clearly intelligent, and I think that will really shine in Season 3. He already seems to suspect something, and I have no doubt he’ll get to the bottom of it. Right now, he’s angry and confused about what happened to Vein, convinced that someone killed him. But how will he react if (or when) he finds out that Vein was the one who initially killed Cheng Xiaoshi—one of his other friends, and probably the only truly innocent one? And don’t even get me started on how he’ll react when he finds out that Lu Guang tried to kill Vein or that Vein is still alive. I’m excited to see where this goes.

That said, I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see much of Vein and Liu Xiao. We mostly just saw what we already knew—two shady guys with their own agenda, pretending to be friendly. As an introduction, it was fine, but considering how much attention the promotional material gave them, I really thought we’d see more. Still, I don’t have a huge issue with it since they’ll obviously play a bigger role in Season 3. Liu Xiao, Vein, Li Tianchen, and possibly Xia Fei—a group of unstable individuals as antagonists… well, good luck, Lu Guang!

Now, something that does bother me about Yingdu is the inconsistencies between its plot and what we’ve seen in Seasons 1 and 2. For me, this was the laziest part of the writing, because no, Link Click isn’t flawless. In fact, no piece of media is. But in Link Click’s case, some of the flaws were painfully obvious. With every episode that aired, I kept thinking, “okay, this has to be an alternate timeline”, because so many little details just didn’t fit with the main storyline. The most obvious one is how Cheng Xiaoshi awakened his powers—he did it on his own, yet in Season 1, it was shown that he didn’t know he could do this. That makes absolutely no sense unless he has selective amnesia, which is definitely not the case lol. As for the inconsistencies with his parents, that could at least be explained by the promise he made to his mother to “not get involved any further.” He clearly remembers that promise and is likely just keeping everything he learned a secret.

Speaking of parents… Damn, Cheng Xiaoshi’s parents are awful lmao. I hated how his father acted like he was the victim, justifying his actions with, “yes, I abandoned my child, but now I take care of other children to make up for my mistakes.” That’s just… bad parenting. I actually made a whole analysis about it in another post. And then there’s Cheng Xiaoshi’s mother. The way she dismissed her son’s feelings and abandonment issues with a casual “oh yeah, it was wrong of me not to say goodbye, but who cares? That’s in the past” felt so off. The entire scene with her was weird—the humor felt misplaced. I was expecting something more emotional, more dramatic—anything but this. But based on what I’ve seen, almost no one liked her, so if the creators were hoping we’d find her eccentricity endearing, this introduction definitely wasn’t the best. Since Season 1, we’ve been repeatedly shown how deeply this abandonment affected Cheng Xiaoshi, and this is the reunion we got? It was… underwhelming.

Now, something I really, really loved was how they handled Lu Guang in this arc. From start to finish, it was just so good—his reaction when he first saw Cheng Xiaoshi again, his nightmares and PTSD, the way he carefully planned everything to manipulate events and create change. But my absolute favorite part? How morally gray he is. He planned and actually succeeded in killing Vein, eliminating the threat (though he’s definitely going to freak out when he finds out Vein is still alive). That cold smile? The scene where his hands moved like he was pulling the strings of a puppet? The way he said, “I hope we’ll never see each other again”? PERFECT. I’ve always said I wanted Lu Guang’s motivations and actions to not be entirely good. He comes across as someone selfish, willing to sacrifice others if it means protecting the people he loves—because he has the power and the knowledge to do it, and he wants his happy ending. Such a good character, I swear.

Of course, I wasn’t expecting every single question to be answered in Yingdu—that would be ridiculous lol. But I’m satisfied that the plot is finally moving forward. They gave us a piece of the puzzle—Cheng Xiaoshi’s parents, the origin of his powers, the antagonists’ apparent goal (some sort of notebook?), and hints at what we can expect in Season 3. That said, my biggest fear is that Link Click will lose its essence—the powerful message from Season 1 about how they shouldn’t intervene in the natural flow of time, no matter how painful it is, because the past and future should be left alone. Based on what Lu Guang said about the butterfly effect, we can argue that time itself is like another character—a force that, no matter how much they try to change things, always corrects itself somehow, some way. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what kind of ending I want for Link Click, but right now, I just hope it makes sense, that it isn’t forced, and that it unfolds naturally.

And… that’s all I have to say for now.

[laylaspence]

The grandiose controller

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[dykedvonte]

wanted to say I appreciate your nuanced takes on MW and especially Curly. i don't get the claim that the fandom is full of Curly apologists when majority (esp yt and tiktok) say he's worse than Jimmy. Yes there's commentary about bro culture defending people, he def messed up in trying to placate Jimmy (tbh "we'll fix this" sounded more like trying to keep someone prone to outbursts like Jim calm and not hurt Anya/himself) but I don't think he did nothing to help Anya, since she continued to confide in him and he had less than a week to resolve it before the crash (I also don't get everyone saying he knew for ages when it seems like Anya told him that same week). I get Jimmy's a pos but saying stuff like Curly should've known he'd crash the ship or that Jim had a criminal record he ignored, reducing them to obviously horrible villain and willfully ignorant sidekick feels like a disservice to the game. If your best friend turned out to be horrible, what would you do in a confined space in the span of a few days to respond? I'd say some of the horror comes from trying to do good but ultimately failing, Curly's state after the crash is meant to be tragic horror not revenge/punishment

Thank you and this is what I want to get across.

A lot of information we have to supplement when it comes to how long things have been happening on this current ship. I think people try to add on to the horror and negligence by making things more obvious so it can feel like it was easier to avoid when, true to life, its not. Jimmy clearly didn't deserve or appreciate what Curly did for him in getting him the job, but do you think if Jimmy was that big of a menace on Earth he would've given him a position where he could have that level of power over people's lives? There's something in the fact he specifically chose to pick a position so close to himself where he could watch Jimmy.

I hate the bro code argument because that is a whole can of worms people really don't get. That sort of mentality is born from the general respect and preference of male matter over female ones. Curly is clearly not that guy, he is absent minded about the issue and inadvertently dismissive but he clearly believes Anya, he just can't understand what she's going through. It's an onslaught of information that no one really reacts right to. Additonally, the entire discussion of her assualt plays to heavy into the idea that there is fault outside of the perpertratior when it comes to SA. It's too close if she only did this or if Curly had protected her better but the fact of the matter is Jimmy did what he did. He did it before any of the conversations with Anya about it and it's why her behavior seemed to change so drastically in those last two days.

He has other conflicting thought and while his role as a Captain should've taken over, people act like it's not a very human thing to have such a toxic presence cloud your judgement. It is never easy to separate friend from coworker once that connection is formed, you want to help them, especially if they were friend first and for a long while like in this case. It's not right, but people act like it would be easy when the game clearly points out that no choice is easy to make, especially when you have to make it for more than one person. You have the weigh the consequences, look at all the options and make a plan. People can headcanon and decide how long things where happening, but if we look at what we were presented through the characters eyes, the only person given time to do that was Jimmy.

He waited two months after the crash to appoint himself Captain. Every time a problem was brought up he immediately took action and refused to sit on it and find a better solution. I think it's important to look at the warped way Jimmy takes initiative where Curly didn't as it works as a good contrast of why you don't just run in to "fix" things. The quickest and easiest option may not be the safest or most beneficial. I think some thoughts on the game suffer from the black and white thinking the game doesn't operate on along with us being voyeurs. We see what exactly led to what but the characters don't. They don't have the hindsight and foresight we do and even ours is scrambled by the non-linear story telling.

Like it's hard to talk abuou those grey zones without sounding like an apologist because you're explaining why taking responsibility isn't easy. It's not and it's weird to act like it would be in a scenerio that led up to the events of the game knowing what we know. We see all these characters in such isolated moments with various things before, in between, after and even during we aren't privy too. The idea that Jimmy is worse than Curly heavily banks on the words Jimmy was saying to Jimmy before he crashed the ship. That whatever happened on the ship was his responsibility to bare, which is true due to his position. But, are they not still not responsible for taking the actions Curly then must bare?

Like i feel like people think that these are situation that become easier with age or when you are in a postion of authority and they aren't. You don't lose your biases or gain some sudden knowledge that makes it easier. It just becomes more tiring as you keep dealing with it. I would be first in line to say Curly fucked up and should've done more but the idea he knew how bad it could get or he really saw the worst in the people around him and ignored it pretty much ignores a huge aspect of his character and the game.

[godsfavoritescientist]

Biting the bars of my enclosure about autistic ford tonight. There's something about him using vocabulary and turns of phrase that seem "outdated" or "pretentious" that feels so painfully genuine to me. When people say he talks like that just to "try to sound smart" I wish I could explain what it's like to be so ostracized from your peers growing up that you spend all your time reading instead, to the point where you pick up your way of speaking from books instead of from people. And then what it's like for people to call you out for "talking weird" over and over again, not able to wrap their heads around why the fuck you would choose more archaic or technical or formal words than the simpler ones that surely come to everyone's minds first. What it's like to have to dedicate a sizable chunk of attention to filtering through every single word you say out loud in real time before you say it, to make absolutely sure that it isn't a word people will judge you for using or make fun of you for using, just so you'll have a chance of being taken seriously. Learning through trial and error how to filter out the words that other people don't think are normal or casual enough for the conversation, even though for you, the word choice that's "natural-sounding" enough for them is the third or fourth word you came up with when searching for the right way to phrase something in your head. I wish I could explain just how long it takes to say fucking anything after spending a lifetime doing that during every single conversation, and how repetitive and long-winded you end up being when you spend so long coming up with alternative ways of saying every little thing you ever think. And I wish people realized that, at the very least for autistic people and autistic-coded characters, speech that's seen as pretentious is really just the way they talk when they're not putting in the extra effort to filter through every word they say just so others will take the time to listen.

[skitskatdacat63]

Mattmac's acting in TD will never not be insane to me, bcs its probably the only acting that genuinely fully made me think, yeah he completely escaped into the role. It's not that there's not any other actors out there that I think are amazing, but it's still often hard for me for the most part to separate the actor and their roles, especially if I've seen a lot of their work. Meanwhile, even just looking at a still of Rust, it's so hard for me to perceive, oh wait that's not a real guy?? Rust isn't out there???

[lususnatura]

OOH... i might have just come up with a new plot-line for blamore, and it is kind of diabolical, NGL 👀

[mikcschmidt]

I actually have . Much to say abt the monty erasure but I fear I maybe just autistic and overreacting n he will appear in a dlc or something I just love monty so much n him being cut out of that gingerbread cookie ruin art was my last straw ((slash jay

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ what loving you feels like to them (pt. 7 - diasomnia) 𓆩𓆪 .ᐟ

synopsis: have you ever wondered what falling in love feels like for each twisted wonderland boy? this series explores love from their perspective— how their personalities, experiences, and desires shape what loving you means to them. follow me to see the next part!

featured character(s): malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, sebek zigvolt, silver.

content warning(s): none

a/n: woo, the final part of this series! after two months of writing, rewriting, proofreading, and endlessly nitpicking, it’s finally complete and posted—feels good to wrap this up! what loving you feels like to them might occasionally use the same words, but those words mean something a little different for each of them. it might sound familiar, but it's still their own!

malleus draconia

loving you feels like a paradox to malleus draconia—both a yearning ache and a soothing balm, a forbidden fruit and the sweetest blessing he never dared to imagine for himself. it’s a sensation so foreign yet so natural, like finding a home in a place he never knew existed. for someone who has lived centuries surrounded by grandeur yet plagued by solitude, loving you is both the most terrifying and the most precious experience of his life.

he has lived a life of solitude, surrounded by awe but never companionship, respect but never intimacy. his world is vast, his power nearly limitless, but it has always felt empty, a hollow kingdom with no one to share it with. loving you feels like standing in a darkened hall and suddenly seeing it bathed in light. it is warmth where there was only cold, music where there was silence. you bring him into a world of emotions he never thought he’d have, filling his existence with vibrancy and depth.

malleus has always been feared, revered, and set apart—kept at arm’s length by the weight of his power and status as the heir to briar valley’s throne. loving you feels like unlocking a door that had always been closed, revealing a world he never thought he could enter. you treat him not as a king, a fae, or a being of immense power, but as simply malleus. the way you meet his gaze without fear, laugh in his presence, and speak to him as an equal fills the void within him he never even fully understood. your love is a bridge between his world and a life of connection he thought was forever out of reach.

but loving you is also a quiet fear, one that coils in the depths of his heart. you are fragile, mortal, fleeting. he knows that time, the same force that has shaped him and his long life, will inevitably seek to take you away. this knowledge makes every moment with you feel both infinitely precious and heartbreakingly finite. it makes his love intense, protective, and almost reverent. he finds himself holding you closer, memorizing every detail, every breath, as though he can somehow defy the inevitable with sheer will.

loving you feels like the answer to a question he’s been asking for centuries, a fulfillment of a longing he could never put into words. it’s bittersweet and overwhelming, but it’s a gift he cherishes beyond anything else. you are his greatest treasure, not because you belong to him, but because you choose him. and he, in turn, chooses you—fully, completely, and forever.

lilia vanrouge

loving you feels like eternity to lilia vanrouge—a thread woven into the centuries of his long life, yet distinct and irreplaceable in its brilliance. it’s a reminder of the beauty in fleeting moments, something he’s come to cherish after watching so much of the world change, break, and fade with time. for someone who has lived longer than most can fathom, loving you feels like a rarity, a spark that rekindles the part of him that thought he had seen it all.

to lilia, love has always been a complex, bittersweet thing. he’s seen how fragile it can be, how it can grow and flourish yet wither all the same. but loving you doesn’t feel like a burden or a fleeting indulgence—it feels like a choice he makes every day, one he makes joyfully. it’s the way you challenge him, intrigue him, and bring a warmth to his heart that he hasn’t felt in ages. loving you feels like finding something entirely new, even in a world he’s walked for centuries.

loving you awakens his playful side even more. he teases you, relishing every laugh, every flustered reaction, and every small moment you share. but beneath his jokes and mischief, there’s a depth to his affection—a steadfastness that reflects the wisdom and loyalty he’s cultivated through the ages. for lilia, love isn’t just passion or fleeting excitement; it’s a quiet certainty, an unshakable bond that weaves itself into his life with a permanence he never thought possible. loving you reminds him that while his life is long, it’s the connections he makes that give it meaning.

there’s also a protectiveness to his love, though it’s never overbearing. lilia understands the fragility of life better than most, and it makes him treasure you even more. he knows that time is fleeting for some, but he refuses to let that deter him. instead, he chooses to savor every moment with you, to live in the present and create memories that will endure in his heart, no matter what.

loving you feels like a song—a melody that lingers long after it’s played, something he hums to himself even when you’re not around. it’s sweet and playful, with notes of melancholy, but above all, it’s unforgettable. loving you is his way of defying the inevitability of time, of saying that no matter how many centuries pass, there are things worth holding onto, and you are one of them.

sebek zigvolt

loving you feels like duty and devotion entwined for sebek zigvolt.

sebek has always lived his life with purpose, driven by an unwavering loyalty to malleus draconia and the ideals of the briar valley. to love someone romantically is an unexpected experience for him—one that initially conflicts with the sense of duty that has defined his existence. yet, loving you doesn’t feel like a betrayal of that duty; instead, it becomes an extension of it. loving you is another cause he throws himself into with all the ferocity of his spirit. it is both a challenge and a privilege, one he approaches with the same intensity and focus that he dedicates to all things important in his life.

to sebek, love is both a challenge and a revelation. it’s not easy for him to reconcile his affection for you with the unyielding focus he’s maintained toward his goals. at first, loving you feels inconvenient, like an unwelcome distraction from his responsibilities. he struggles to understand it, to put it into words, because he has always prioritized duty over personal desires, leaving little room to reflect on his own wants. but the longer he spends with you, the more he realizes that loving you isn’t a weakness—it’s a strength. it pushes him to be better, not just as a knight or a protector, but as a person.

loving you also brings out a side of him he rarely shows—one that is quieter, and deeply earnest. it’s in the way he fumbles over words when he tries to tell you how much you mean to him, the way he blushes fiercely when you catch him staring, and the way he trains even harder because he wants to be someone you can rely on. his love for you is almost overwhelming in its intensity, but it’s also pure and steadfast, a reflection of the unshakable loyalty that defines him.

but loving you is not without conflict. sebek struggles to reconcile his pride and his affection, often fumbling to express his feelings in a way that doesn’t betray his dignity. his words may come out louder or harsher than intended, his actions more grandiose than necessary, because he does not yet know how to soften for you. still, his love is earnest, as unwavering as his loyalty to the draconias. you teach him that love is not about perfection, that it’s okay to be flawed, to grow, and to lean on someone else.

loving you feels like finding balance. it doesn’t take away from his loyalty to malleus or his pride as a knight, but it reminds him that even the strongest warrior needs moments of rest, that even the most disciplined heart deserves happiness. for sebek, loving you is a fire that burns steady and bright, not dimming his resolve but giving it new purpose. you are his anchor and his inspiration, and he loves you with all the intensity of his being.

silver

loving you feels like peace to silver, a quiet but profound warmth that wraps around his heart and stays with him, even in the stillest moments. it is not something he sought out or expected, but something that came naturally, like the first light of day creeping over the horizon. for silver, love is not loud or dramatic; it is calm and unwavering, a feeling that settles deep in his soul and grounds him in a way nothing else ever has. it feels like solace, a rare and precious thing in a life that has always been shaped by duty.

loving you feels like clarity. silver has always lived with a sense of purpose, devoted to his training and his role in protecting malleus draconia. his focus has always been outward, on those he serves, but loving you shifts something inside him. for the first time, he feels like he’s allowed to focus on himself—not in a selfish way, but in a way that makes him realize he is more than his duty. with you, he feels seen for who he is, not just as a knight or a protector, but as a person. and in that, he finds a quiet kind of joy.

but loving you is also vulnerable for him. silver is not used to putting his feelings into words; he is a man of action, not flowery speeches. he shows his love in the way he listens, in the way he instinctively stands closer to you when he senses danger, in the way he remembers the little things that make you happy. for silver, love is something he expresses through quiet gestures rather than grand declarations, but it is no less profound. in fact, it feels deeper because of its simplicity, like an unspoken understanding between you.

loving you feels like balance. silver has always walked the line between the human and fae worlds, a child of both but also of neither. with you, he doesn’t feel like he has to choose. you accept every part of him—the human side that longs for companionship and the disciplined knight who feels an unshakable sense of duty. your love doesn’t ask him to change or to prove himself; it simply asks him to be. and in that, he finds a sense of belonging he didn’t realize he was missing.

for silver, loving you feels like rest. it feels like finding a place where he doesn’t have to stand guard, where he can let his guard down without fear. it’s steady, like the rhythm of his heartbeat when you’re near, and gentle, like the warmth of the sun on his face. it is a quiet love, but it is deep and unshakable, and he treasures it as one would a dream they never want to wake from. with you, silver has found something worth protecting—not out of duty, but out of love.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[billpottsismygf]

.

[coridallasmultipass]

Finally got around to buying the Nikke profile stickers I want since I keep drawing dupes! Bought all the Bow Wow Paradise ones!! It was one of my fave events bc I love dogs and dog girls and Happy Zoo and ESPECIALLY Biscuit so much. As you can see, I got all the 'dog' girls as my showcase team, too, lol:

Also, as an aside, I just got a new personal record in Overclock at level 16!! Which is why I remembered I needed to edit my profile when I went to check if it changed to 16 (I think I was at 12 maybe last time they ran Overclock in the Simulation Room).

[horrorhot-line]

serendipity

(n.) the occurrence and development of events by chance, in a happy or beneficial way.

➵ pairing: saiki kusuo / immune! reader

➵ word count: 16k

➵ genre: of first meetings and crack

➵ warnings: none

➵ summary: s1 ep 1 & 2. on your first day at pk academy, you witness saiki use pyrokinesis. from that moment forward, you become hell-bent on avoiding him at all costs. it’s easier said than done, especially after you find yourself unintentionally foiling chiyo yumehara’s plans to get close to him.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

horrorhot-line © 2020. all rights reserved

before you read:

‘saiki telepathically communicating with reader.’

‘reader thinking or interacting with saiki through thoughts.’

“saiki talking without moving his mouth.”

“saiki talking using his mouth.”

if you use the above format of speech in your fanfic, please credit as I was the first to come with it, thank you <3

author's notes: this post is a rewrite from my friends to lovers series that I first posted back in 2020, the relaunch you've been waiting for is finally here! it's still pretty much the same with a few changes here and there, hope you all enjoy <3

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Ever since you could remember, the way the world worked didn't make sense. Your fragile child brain, not yet fully developed, was incapable of understanding that the very universe was shifting before you, at the hands of certain psychic no less.

You were 4 when you realised that other's wounds would go away quickly. Scrapes, bumps, cuts, you name it, they would heal almost instantaneously. You didn't possess such an ability, it seemed. All the doctors were curious as to why you would come to the hospital with bruises and wounds since it was unusual that, unlike everyone else, your injuries wouldn't heal after a day. Looking at the MRIs and Ex-rays on the desk as the adults talked, you pondered the same thing.

You chalked it up to you being weaker than others, despite the lingering at the back of your mind that something was terribly wrong. Then again, it was better to stay quiet than address the questions from said adults, questions you didn’t yet have concrete answers to.

You were 5 when you started sprouting neon green hair at the roots, until a few weeks later— the tone began returning to its natural colour. You grew out the ugly patch of lime until you could chop it off. The worst of it was the fact that no one said anything about changing hair colour practically overnight. It didn't sit right with you. Out of all the classmates in your elementary school, you were the only one with what others considered as abnormal coloured hair— and to top it off, you were sure you were the normal one.

That wasn't all that seemed to be amiss. Individuals could knock others unconscious with just a chop to the neck, clothes could be ripped off while the crotch remained covered, and tiny people could be incredibly strong. None of these applied to you; you couldn't do any of it— the reason still a mystery. 

Despite being so young, how was it possible for you to notice these things? Well, it was as simple as— every time it felt like a new phenomenon would occur, a splitting headache would hit you. As a child, your body was unable to handle the strain of whatever was happening with the world, and you would develop a fever as a result. It would leave you bedridden for a week, but as you grew, you found it became easier to handle.

You would have ignored all the weird things happening around you— wouldn't have found it hard not to pay any attention to the unusual phenomena. However, as you aged, it became harder to brush under the rug.

You lived life trying your best not to think of the strange occurrences until your 2nd year of high school. A week before you were about to start afresh as a 3rd year, your family asked if you were excited for your second year at school. You hadn't thought much of it, assuming that they had gotten confused. You didn't bother correcting them and continued with your life as usual. 

That was until you resumed classes, only to discover that you were still in your second year of high school. 

You would have disputed it with the teachers because you were sure you passed the year with flying colours, but you weren't the only one. Your entire class, no— the whole year group itself, were repeating their year again. Not to mention, there were no new first years. That was when you decided things weren't okay. The world was shifting, bending in impossible ways, defying the laws of nature itself, and you were the only one who noticed.

What was more unfortunate was the fact that you couldn't tell anyone. Couldn't breathe a word of your troubles to your friends, fear of word getting around forcing your lips shut. Worst-case scenario— you would be ostracised by your classmates, effectively sentencing yourself to social death and becoming the school's pariah or sent to a mental institute. No one saw the change or acknowledged the difference— you were alone in your findings, so you kept quiet.

Then, answers came to you in the summer holidays after the repeat of your first year, in the form of an old lady at a stall offering tarot card readings. Personally, you didn't believe in the supernatural or magicians and the like. Still, she was persistent, a true salesman at heart, so to speak. Convinced that you were getting scammed, you tried to refuse, but she had already pulled you into the chair behind her stall.

That was how you found out you were immune when it came to the supernatural. The old lady ignored your protests of how you had no money and tried to see into your future, to reveal to you what lay ahead of you, only for her to tell you she couldn't.

After heavy silence and serious contemplation on her side, followed by a barrage of questions— she theorised that you were blocking her from using her abilities on you. The old woman called it 'natural immunity and the ability to nullify someone's powers'. You weren't impressed, but it did feel like her words held some truth as you caught sight of the bright yellow hair under her hood.

That was when you connected the dots since it explained why you were the only one who noticed the changes in the world. You were immune to the phenomenon going on around you. That caused you to wonder who on earth had been messing with the timeline and warping everyone's perception of the world. You weren’t sure you were comfortable with knowing there was a human alive capable of that.

You had asked the old lady if someone could turn back time on a global scale since that seemed to be the only explanation for the year repeating itself. She had brushed it off, laughing at the thought. She had said that if it were possible, it would have to be someone with unimaginable power. The old woman was convinced no human on earth could possess the ability to pull a stunt like that off, muttering something about how 'everyone would have noticed'.

You had left the conversation at that, giving up on trying to make her understand. If you were being honest, you were more curious to learn about your own talents. The old lady was the one who taught you how to manually turn off your immunity when others used their powers on you. "Visualise a broken string between you and me. Then, try to will it to connect."

Closing your eyes, you followed the shady lady's instructions and found that it took an immense amount of your energy to do so. You ended up with a migraine but discovered that she could use her fortune-telling powers on you after the fact.

The old lady had been pleased with the results as she put her cards away, telling you she had just confirmed a sneaking suspicion she had about you. The two of you realised that you could, in fact, turn off your ability (if you could even call it that) when you put enough effort into it.

After your conversation with her, you felt like at least one of your questions had been answered somewhat, but you refused to pay up after she made grabby hands at you. You simply turned on your heels and left, telling her if she was that good at reading the future like she claimed— she would have known you forgot your wallet at home. She had thrown a fit as you walked off, and you had felt bad somewhat, but it's not like you ever wanted the reading to begin with.

You wondered if you could stop your immunity to the weird phenomena around you; ignorance was bliss after all— maybe then you wouldn't be burdened with the knowledge that someone was trying to play some sort of messed up game of chess with the timeline. Then again— what was the point in pondering when you knew you weren't going to try and be the main character and solve the mystery? You'd read enough fanfic to know where that would lead. Major character death with spoilers across the tags; luckily, you had no interest in turning the genre into horror.

The time on earth turned back three times, or that's what you concluded. You weren't sure about the exact number because you stopped counting after the second time you repeated your year. Repeating the year meant that days blended into each other, and you stopped trying to keep track and make sense of it all.

After redoing the academic year three times in total— you assumed, you finally decided enough was enough. You couldn't handle spending another second in the same classroom, with the same people, the same teachers and the same lessons. It drove you insane, so you begged your family to let you transfer. Trying to convince them took a long time, but they finally gave in to your request.

A month before your second year, again, your family moved to a new neighbourhood. You were enrolled at PK Academy, which meant you would start the upcoming school year.

The downside? Free-mixing. The all-girls school was great since there was no dating drama, and mostly everyone in your year just put their head down to study. The horror stories you had heard so far of boys sneaking cameras into the girl's bathroom in other institutions made it hard to see the upside, considering the boys of today might end up being the perverts of tomorrow. Then again, you didn't have a choice— after all that begging, even if you changed your mind, your application form for your new school and dismissal from your old school meant you had to go.

You didn't mind that you had to commute to the school you currently went to before the holidays hit, satisfied that instead of staring up at the ceiling and still unintentionally wondering 'Who done it', you were worried about getting up in time in the morning.

You held onto the fuzzy feeling in your stomach,

see— even your gut was telling you this was one of your finer decisions, one you wouldn't come to regret.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ 

Finding your way to your new high school wasn't too hard when you had the curse and blessing that was your phone. When the direction on your maps changed for the 6th time, telling you to go back the way you came— you gave up, instead opting to tail a group of girls who wore the uniform that matched yours in hopes of not getting lost and finding potential shortcuts, deciding that they would know the way since they went to the same school.

You made it to PK Academy with little to no trouble, using your hands to smooth your shirt down and make yourself look more presentable before you stepped past the gate. Students walked into the school building, chatting amongst themselves. You followed suit, and you wouldn't deny the small skip to your step as excitement bubbled in your veins.

All was good— until it wasn't.

As soon as you stepped past the gate after successfully passing uniform inspection, which you gave yourself a mental pat on the back for, a wave of dizziness hit you, vision fuzzing as you caught sight of something pink out the corner of your eye. You felt nauseous, finding it hard to stay upright. You staggered, soon falling to your knees.

It was all going so well, too...

The rough granite coating the ground scraped your palms, but the searing pain you felt in your head stopped you from processing it. It was like someone had pressed a hot iron to your skull, like gravity was working against you to pin you to the ground— or was gravity working rather too effectively? It didn't matter; now was not the time to be thinking about that!

You heard a teacher shout, the one in a gym tracksuit who had been at the front gates with a ruler in hand, making sure students weren't dressed like delinquents. Your vision swam as you tried to look up at the teacher who seemed to be talking to you. Ringing filled your ears, and you winced at the sound. What on earth was happening to you?

You were panting, finding it hard to hear what the teacher was asking of you. The red of his tracksuit hurt your eyes. "—dent! Can... —walk?" Trying to understand what he was saying became increasingly difficult as you squinted your eyes at him.

You tried to focus on his voice, succeeding after putting in enough effort. "Student! Can you walk?!" You shook your head, no— did it look like you could?! You clutched the strap of your school bag as tightly as you could to try and ground yourself.

You furrowed your eyebrows as another wave of nausea hit you, although not as strong as the last. You felt the need to spill the breakfast you had eaten that morning, all over the floor and maybe some on the teacher's pristine tracksuit. All you could think about was how to ease the pain. Would you have to wait it out, or would you pass out before then? You wanted to curl up on the floor, debating it for a hot minute as you started losing strength in your arm.

You didn't get the chance to, feeling the ground shift beneath you as you were picked up. In no time, you were rushed to what you assumed was the nurse's office. The teacher must have decided to escort you to a somewhat safer place, a gesture you probably should have thanked him for. The only problem was— the pain appeared to worsen the deeper you entered the school building. He should have left you outside.

"Wait here. I'll go find the nurse," The teacher who had escorted you, placed you down on a bed before fetching an ice pack from the freezer. Bold of him to assume you were in any condition to move— but it's not like you were about to say that out loud. "Take this for now." He put the ice pack against your forehead, his arm dropping back to his side when you brought your hand up to hold it.

With that, he took off down the hallway. You would have thanked the teacher for all his help if not for the daze you were in. At least the ringing in your ears had subsided. The headache, however, had become impossible to ignore. You were grateful for the ice pack; its cold helped dull the migraine somewhat.

Great— first day at your new school and you managed to mess it up. You were no doubt missing out on the entrance ceremony— the principal's speech— fantastic! As if things couldn't get better! What had caused you to nearly faint, to begin with? The only time you had felt like this was when weird phenomena would occur, when the way the world worked changed, and you were the only one left to notice. Was there some sort of supernatural activity going on in this school that had caused such a severe reaction in you?

You decided you would try to figure it out later; you were in no shape to play Sherlock. First, you had to deal with the fatigue and nausea. For now, you'd have to focus on getting better— if your condition didn't improve, you'd go home. With a rough plan in mind, at least you had a bit of mental clarity.

Breathing through your nose, you turned to your side to ease the pain you were feeling. You hadn't realised until then that the curtain next to the bed you were on had been pulled, blocking the sight of the door that led to the room. You assumed the teacher had done that, probably to give you some privacy.

Exhaling deeply, you closed your eyes, trying to relax. That proved challenging to do when the peace was disrupted, not even seconds later. You heard a voice coming from afar and ignored it, trying your best to overcome the feeling of nausea that hit you again. Was your condition worsening?

"Huh, is the nurse dead too? That's weird... Guess I'll have to do mouth-to-mouth on you, myself." If you had been in your right mind, you would have laughed, but whoever was speaking just managed to add to your frustrations instead. You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still closed. Couldn't these strangers be more considerate so as to not disturb someone who was trying to rest?! Then again, they probably didn't know you were there, so you'd give them the benefit of the doubt.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt the bed shake. Your first thought was earthquake until you saw the curtain move as if someone was right next to it on the other side. If you had to guess, someone had probably slammed into it. You registered the sound of an audible grunt, assuming it was most likely from the stranger speaking before, though you couldn't be sure with the curtain still drawn. Had they fallen, or had someone pushed them?

The noise of water running filled the room. "I don't need mouth-to-mouth, you stupid idiot!" Whoever spoke started to gargle their mouth straight after. You clenched your jaw. Whoever these people were, they were aggravating your headache— and by extension, you "You're better? Well, that's nice to see." Why were they still talking?!

Some luck you had— maybe staying at the nurse's office wasn't a good idea after all. In that moment you wished you had just curled up near the school entrance until an ambulance came to your rescue. "Of course, I'm better! I was faking! Was it worth it, though? Since I got kissed by you!" Was this some backward BL you had been dragged into? You were sure you’d read enough fanfiction to know where this was going... If these people had nothing better to do, you wondered why they couldn't just leave.

You adjusted the ice pack on your head, biting your cheek to stop yourself from getting annoyed further. It didn't work— the mouth gargling continued. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I'm sad too... You were my first kiss." Whoever he was, he whispered the last part as if he was bashful. In any case, you weren't entirely sure that was the best way to go about consoling someone.

You weren't the type to judge over sexual preferences, but why couldn’t they just elope and get married already? Couldn’t they choose a different room to fall over each other and leave you to rest? You rolled your eyes as you gazed up at the ceiling, wondering when they would stop talking and go back to their classes. "Now, everyone's gonna think Nendou and I are in love..."

You nearly snorted at the comment, but not because you found it funny. Typical high school boys with their typical shenanigans. You wished you had stayed home— this was not worth it. No longer did you want to be subjected to listening to either of them go on. You heard someone shuffle angrily across the room. "Hey, you better not tell anyone my fainting spell was a fake! ...Don't tell anyone!"

You decided that enough was enough. To hell with your first day at a new school and good first impressions. You were either going to get those two to leave— or leave yourself and just go home. Whichever was easier in your condition. You sat up and pulled back the curtain roughly, only to realise that there were three people in the room, not two. That's weird; you swore only the two were talking amongst themselves.

The room fell silent as all three boys looked at you in surprise. The one you assumed had slammed into the bed you were resting on, who was still on the floor, had... unique hair. Fashion choice? His mohawk was dyed blonde, while the rest of his hair was weirdly shaved. One of them had referred to him as 'Nendou', that you were sure of.

On closer inspection, you realised he had a scar that ran down his left eye and the most defined butt-chin you had ever seen. It hurt your eyes just to look at him— that's how unpleasant his face was. He resembled a delinquent, but his mannerisms said otherwise. The one you assumed had been faking his sick had green hair and fish-like lips. Both of them were... unsightly, to say the least, and you swore just witnessing them was making you feel even worse.

Your eyes shifted to the one who hadn't talked once the entire time, and the first thing you noticed was his pink hair. Well, that was a new shade of colour you had yet to see. He wore green glasses and antennas on his head. He was the only one who looked marginally attractive, a thought you shoved down the minute you registered it. You wondered how he had managed to get past uniform inspection.

The boy with pink hair was the one who looked the most shocked to see you, his face paling at the sight of you kneeling on the nurse's bed. It was because he hadn't been able to detect you with his powers, a fact still unbeknownst to you.

They continued to stare at you, and you opened your mouth to speak, still holding your icepack against your forehead. "Can you please keep it down? I'm trying to rest—" You didn't get a chance to finish what you were saying, falling silent as you noticed the teacher who rescued you from before standing at the entrance of the nurse's office with a hand on the wall. Said wall cracked as his hold tightened around it, the veins on his forehead popping out in anger.

"I heard it all!" You watched the concrete of the wall around his palm crumble slightly as he shouted, debris falling to the floor. "Matsuzaki!" The green-haired boy spoke first, shocked to see the teacher standing at the door. At least you knew the name of your saviour. "So your fainting was a con job, huh?" The teacher truly was a force to be reckoned with; he looked scary as he— wait, was he growing in size? He nearly towered over the green-haired boy in front of him.

"That's not what happened, sir! It's his fault. He forced me to collapse so he could skip out on the principal's speech, and my sickness is actually a ruse!" The green-haired boy pointed a finger at Nendou before bursting into tears as he cried into his arm. Matsuzaki put a hand on the boy's shoulder to console him before he furiously turned to Nendou.

You watched the scene unfold with a blank face. You should've just pretended to be asleep— maybe then you wouldn't have been subjected to witness such an exchange take place. Was it too late to get back into the bed and pull the covers over yourself? Yes, yes it was.

"Nendou, is that all true?!" So, you were right, that was his name! At least your observation skills weren't failing short because of the migraine. It wasn't his fault, but the green-haired boy had done a pretty good job at acting like it was. He had expertly made up lies to avoid getting into trouble, letting Nendou take the fall for him instead.

Nendou didn't even get a chance to retaliate as Matsuzaki took notice of the pink-haired boy to his right. "Huh? Saiki, what are you doing here?" Come to think of it, you found it weird that the guy had yet to say a word. Was he mute? So, Saiki was his name. The one with antennas only acknowledged Matsuzaki but didn't open his mouth to speak.

Of course, Saiki did reply, but he did so telepathically. Your immunity to the supernatural, without you knowing it, blocked out his ability, which is why you thought he hadn't said anything, even though he had been talking to the others since the moment he had entered the nurse's office.

"Takahashi, is he also a part of this?"  Matsuzaki asked the green-haired boy, who you now knew to call Takahashi. Matsuzaki pointed a finger at Saiki, looking at fish lips with an expectant gaze. Takahashi stopped crying abruptly, lowering his arm slightly as he opened his mouth to answer. "Who? Yeah, sure." How was the teacher believing these lies?! You had to question his credibility. You watched Saiki's expression darken at the accusation. This whole situation was getting more and more absurd.

"That's it! I want you both in my office!" How had the teacher, of all people, not realised that Takahashi was faking this entire thing and making up elaborate lies to avoid getting into trouble? And why was the whole exchange going so fast?

At this rate, you were going to get whiplash with how quickly you were looking between the four. At least your headache had died down slightly, just enough for you to think clearly. So long as you didn't get dragged into this whole mess, you'd be just fine. Hah, you wanted to leave.

"Hold on a sec, teach. His feigning is real. Didn't you hear him just say it? Root sickness." Nendou said it so ominously— you nearly believed him. That lasted for a second until you gazed up at the boy in sheer disbelief. Was it possible to be this idiotic? How could someone even be capable of mistaking ruse for roots?

You weren't the only one who thought so, as the other three in the room looked at Nendou in shock and awe. You were sure they felt the same— Nendou was... slow, to say the least. "What? Isn't that right?" Nendou was confident he was correct and— were those stars dancing around him... and, why was he drooling? You would laugh, but you were still trying to process whatever just took place.

"What in the holy heck? What's root sickness— root sickness is a deadly virus that infects the victim through the follicles. Ohh, that one." Halfway through Matsuzaki trying to understand why Nendou brought up such an illness, he started to think out loud before coming to the conclusion that Nendou was right.

Ah.

This whole situation was outrageous! How had you managed to witness such incompetency from a teacher? At least he was reliable in the sense that he cared. You couldn't think too badly of Matsuzaki as he was the one who had gone through the trouble of bringing you to the nurse's office when you fell. He was still as gullible as they come, though.

"Let's take your temperature to see if you have a fever. That's what my mom does for me." Could you leave yet? No one would say anything if you just walked out, right? You weren't too keen on taking a risk, so you decided to stay put for the time being and hope your existence would be background noise. "Are you a new student?" You spoke too soon, Matsuzaki had noticed you.

You stood up from your seat on the bed, staggering slightly as you felt black spots cloud your vision. Maybe getting up abruptly wasn't a good idea. You sighed, wondering what had become of your luck, "Yes, I'm new. This is my first day here." Matsuzaki took note of your confirmation, nodding to himself as he put a hand to his chin. "Do you have root sickness too?"

Not this root sickness talk again— of course you didn't because a disease like that didn't exist. There was no known medical condition dubbed 'root sickness', to begin with. Good luck convincing Matsuzaki of that fact, though. You shook your head, no. "I have a headache, not a fever. I'll be fine if I get some rest." Were you the only one who saw reason in this room? Probably. You did know one thing, and that was that you weren't going to be fooled into believing that you had a made-up illness; you just felt nauseous.

Though the feeling had dimmed, you still wanted to go home to recover. "Is it alright if I take sick leave today? I don't think I'm well enough to stay here." Matsuzaki agreed, muttering how he'd let your homeroom teacher know since he'd already seen you fall like a sack of potatoes near the school's front gates. You exhaled in relief at that, deciding then that you liked this teacher; after all— he was cool.

Matsuzaki then proceeded to get a thermometer from one of the drawers in the room to check Takahashi's temperature. All the while, the boy in question sat at a bench in the corner of the room with one sleeve of his uniform jacket taken off. He was sweating profusely, no doubt because he had been faking this entire time and was about to be caught. Serves him right, you thought to yourself, Takahashi had dug his own grave. Was now a good time to ask for directions?

"98.2 Celcius... Go call an ambulance now!" You quickly turned on your feet to look at Matsuzaki. How was that possible?! That was 40 Celcius too high! The average body temperature for a human was 37! You wondered if Takahashi really did have root sickness. You quickly got rid of the thought, that wasn't possible. Maybe he just had a high fever? No, that didn't make sense either. You let the thought go when you felt your headache return with vengeance.

The ambulance came in record time, with EMTs carrying Takahashi out on a gurney to be loaded into the van with Nendou shouting words of encouragement after him. You watched from the window in the nurse's office, shaking your head. Today had been a disaster. You decided you had had enough of this school for now, turning on your heel so you could head home.

The only other person in the room besides you was Saiki. Surely, he would know the way out of this place, right? You weren't familiar with the layout and didn't feel like getting lost trying to find the main entrance. There was no harm in asking, so why not?

"Do you know how I can get out of here? I'm not sure how since I'm new." Saiki turned to you, his blank face, which was devoid of all emotion, making it hard to read him. This entire time not once had you seen a significant change in his expression. Was he even human?

Silence followed, and the man had the nerve to raise an eyebrow at you. You mirrored his expression, leaning your head forward ever so slightly, expecting an answer. "Hello? Do you know where the main entrance is?" You didn't miss the look of shock that crossed his face. Had Saiki actually been mute like you first assumed? Oh no, how insensitive of you!

Before you could splutter out an apology, he opened his mouth to speak. "First stairs to your left. If you take them all the way down to the ground floor, you'll reach the shoe lockers. That's the way out." You weren't sure what you expected him to sound like, but it certainly wasn't that. Honey— that was the only word that came to mind when you thought of how to describe it. Rich, and smooth, not too deep, but very appealing. You decided you liked the sound of his voice, if nothing else.

You nodded your head, thanking him before you made your move to leave the room. It hadn't even been an hour since you had come to PK Academy, and still, everything had gone downhill the moment you stepped through those blasted gates. You rubbed at your forehead in mild frustration, already missing the icepack you had left in the nurse's office.

Nendou passed you in the hall, moving to walk into the room you had just emerged from. You turned, curious as to why he was going back and that was your downfall. You peeked into the room, and that's when you saw it. Past Nendou's form, which was slightly obstructing your vision, stood Saiki with a thermometer in hand. The same one Matsuzaki had used on Takahashi. 

Out of nowhere, it caught on fire in Saiki's palm, and the guy had the nerve to casually crush it in his hand as if the heat didn't affect him. Your body moved before you could think, and you turned to hide. The wall next to the door to the office was enough to keep you from being spotted.

You took note of your heart speeding up in your chest, feeling as though you had seen something you shouldn't have. It hadn't been an illusion. What you had witnessed was not as your imagination. Saiki had set the thermometer on fire with his mind! There was no other explanation. He could use pyrokinesis, the ability to manipulate heat.

This whole situation and the events that took place had set you on edge. Normally, you would have let curiosity get the better of you, which would have led you to confront Saiki about what you had seen, but this time it was different— as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, and you decided this time satisfaction might not be enough to bring it back. Though you weren't a stranger to the supernatural, you had no interest in becoming 'buddy-buddy' with Saiki or even talking to him in the future, for that matter.

You were already surrounded by strange occurrences, and adding to the list of people you knew who could do things others couldn't, didn't sound appealing at all. Better to just leave it. The last thing you wanted was to get involved with someone like him.

Chances were, you wouldn't run into Saiki. The school was big, and there was no way you would be so unlucky as to end up in the same class as him. With that, you began to walk, following the directions you had received earlier so you could get to the main entrance of the school building.

That was how your first meeting with Saiki Kusuo had gone.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ 

You had to have the worst luck on earth— surely, you did something to throw your karma out of balance because there was no other way of explaining your predicament. Fate, maybe? Everything happens for a reason, after all. Once you attended your classes for the first time, you discovered you were, in fact, in the same class as the pyrokinetic boy from the day before.

You sighed as you laid down on your bed, resting your eyes as you willed yourself to change out of your uniform. You took the time to think back to the events of the past few days.

Your first official day at PK Academy had been just as eventful as the day you went home early. When you entered the class, the first person who caught your attention was the pink-haired boy with antennas, Saiki.

You had frozen mid-step as soon as you realised you were in the same class as him. What had snapped you out of your thoughts was the home-room teacher announcing that you were the new transfer student. After introducing yourself, you took a seat, coincidentally ending up right behind the person you wanted to avoid most.

The school day went on, and you tried to make the best of your situation. Just because you were in the same class didn’t mean you would interact with each other. Saiki didn’t look like the talkative type either. The rest of the morning was spent trying to calm your nerves.

It was reasonably quiet until the first break.

As soon as the teacher left, you pulled out your phone and plugged in your earphones to tune the world out. You had ignored everyone around you, grateful for the fact that no one had come to bother your peace. Quietly sitting at your desk, you decided to do homework because you had time and knew you wouldn’t do it when you got home.

That was until the class started discussing a snake on the loose after it escaped the zoo, and you overheard. Shame on you for not increasing the volume from the start. A student with light blue hair spoke up immediately, claiming that an evil organisation called 'Dark Reunion’ was behind it.

Ah, you had heard of this before, an awful condition where an individual was convinced they had otherwordly powers, like a girl from your last school who claimed she saw ghosts. Then again, who were you to judge when you were probably every bit as delusional as he was? Was it bad that you thought you could take that snake down with ease? Yes, yes, it was.

You couldn’t bring yourself to listen in closely as he went on with his fantasies. Situations like that usually didn’t end well— and you had been correct. Your classmates had made fun of the strange boy until he left the room when they found out the snake was ordinary and a bunch of 4-year-olds had killed it, his voice trembling as he declared that he had tried to warn them. Your guess was that he was going to the bathroom to cry. Wow, high school kids were ruthless.

Saiki left shortly after, to your relief, and that was when all hell broke loose. The class broke out into screams. When you realised it was over a snake that had somehow gotten into the room, you quickly jumped on top of your desk, accidentally pushing off your books and pens in your haste.

The class collectively lost their minds. The students had exclaimed that someone should get the teacher, but no one moved to do so as the snake blocked the door. Nendou, the one from the nurse’s office who was also in your class, appeared out of nowhere and started to make fun of everyone for being scared. You weren’t concerned with his smack talk, too busy staring at his crotch and not for the conventional reason. The snake had latched itself onto Nendou’s family jewels. Poor guy.

Long story short, Nendou got bitten in the balls by the reptile and proceeded to pass out on the floor. The light blue-haired boy from before with the 'Chuunibyu Complex’ returned and tried to protect the class from the snake, willingly putting himself in danger when the snake launched itself at a girl whose face you probably wouldn’t remember in a week. What a sweetheart— with that, you sent Kaidou your blessings, convinced that he was going to meet his end.

Your first official day, and there was already gonna be a death. What had you done to ask for this? Then it happened, he yelled 'Judgement Knights of Thunder!’ and then there was light— well, lightning. It appeared mysteriously, and music seemingly started playing out of nowhere. 'JUDGMENT KNIGHTS OF— JUDGMENT KNIGHTS OF THUNDER!’

For a second, you had wondered if the author was breaking the fourth wall to talk to you. Had your time finally come? Had the day arrived when a divine power would smite you off this mortal coil? That didn’t seem to be the case— no, it was just Kaidou’s theme song playing. 

Even after coming home from school, you had yet to get the tune out of your head. What could you say? The song was catchy.

You had figured that Kaidou also had otherwordly abilities. That meant he had been telling the truth when he claimed to have special powers. A pyrokinetic user and a guy who could control lightning, both of them were in your class. What were the chances?

That wasn’t the only thing you had observed. When you went to town to pick up new stationery, you spotted Saiki. It was a mere coincidence that he and you were in the same place, at the same time, seemingly heading in the same direction.

You had silently walked behind him, praying to yourself that he wouldn’t turn around and notice you. You hadn’t actively been trying to follow him, so why did you feel like you were some type of stalker?

What snapped you out of your thoughts was a girl with navy blue hair crossing the street to say hi to the man before you. Were they familiar with each other? Mid-squint, you realised that the girl was also a classmate of yours.

Kokori was it? Koko— Ah, yes, Kokomi Teruhashi. She was quite popular among the boys in your school for her beauty. Personally, you had thought it was overrated. Perfect was boring. Not to mention, you got the feeling that she was somewhat narcissistic.

Having people compliment her and practically drool all over her would surely get to her head, right? Then you shoved the thought down automatically because it was merely conjecture, and who were you to judge? Assumptions were assumptions and just that at the end of the day. You did wonder for a moment if your immunity worked against her beauty, too.

You stopped when Saiki did, as Teruhashi moved to stand in front of him to greet him, and you went into full panic mode. You hadn’t been keen on walking past him, so you had stayed in place. Critical thinking saved you, and you pulled out your phone to make it look like you were checking something, all the while dying of embarrassment because of how awkward you probably looked.

When you imagined yourself from a bird's eye view, just standing there, you prayed a natural disaster would come and save you from this humiliation. What followed shocked you, all thoughts of mortification thrown out the window at what took place. Out of your peripherals, Saiki had bowed before continuing to walk.

You had been just as baffled as Teruhashi, the girl in question still frozen in place. Why did he avoid her? You couldn’t help but wonder. Any other boy would have melted at the sight of her. Was he gay? Was he in love with someone else? You continued walking when Saiki started to move again, watching as Teruhashi chased after him. It got to the point where he stopped acknowledging her in general.

You wished you could turn around and walk the other way, but you had to get home! Why today of all days? Your life was never this eventful before. All you could do was watch on as Teruhashi called after him, to no avail. She had resorted to a different method after that, reaching out to grab him forcefully, only for Saiki to dodge her expertly every time. Did he have eyes at the back of his head or something? You deserved a pat on the back for not laughing once during the whole exchange.

When Saiki entered the crowd, Teruhashi tried to follow him. It proved to be fruitless, as he seemingly disappeared. That wiped the grin off your face, and you stopped dead in your tracks.

Saiki had teleported; there was no doubt about it. Your eyes were on him, and then he vanished. It was no trick of the light, you knew for sure as you watched the debris settle from where Saiki had just been moments earlier. That had sent you down a spiral. You had known then that he had more than one power. He didn’t just have the ability of Pyrokeneiss; he could also teleport. Just how powerful was he?

You kept an eye out for Saiki after that, quietly observing him to see if he had any other abilities.

When the boys were playing dodgeball in P.E., you were in Home Ec, trying to make cupcakes. You had used the better half of the lesson watching Saiki play, nearly burning what you had been baking because of your preoccupied thoughts. After being lectured, you spent the rest of the lesson in the back, ducking to escape the glares sent your way by the teacher. 

What had caught your eye was him throwing a ball lightly at the dodgeball cart, only for the whole thing to be destroyed entirely. Your jaw had practically dropped to the floor at the sight, cupcakes all but forgotten in the oven 5 minutes too long as you gawked at his retreating form. If you hadn’t been watching Saiki, you would have assumed it was a meteor that had hit it. He had superhuman strength, too?

It also struck you as odd that anytime the teacher called on him to answer, he would stay silent. Then, the teacher would tell Saiki that he was correct, as if the man in question had replied. Could he also control minds and manipulate them or something? What the hell was happening?

The more you watched him, the more you were convinced that he was an extremely dangerous individual. You had concluded that your decision not to get involved with him had been a good one— you should have stayed put at your last school; coming to PK Academy had been a bad idea.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ 

The days rolled by until Friday came around, and you mentally patted yourself on the back for having succeeded in avoiding Saiki. You had gotten through your first week without garnering any unwanted attention— too bad no one was around to give you a gold star.

You sat at your desk, drinking from a can of cold coffee you had retrieved from a vending machine, as you half-heartedly listened to the rest of the class prattle on about romance. Did they have nothing better to talk about during their break? Personally, you believed they were all way too young and immature to be in relationships, you included. Then again, you were probably the most mature one there since, technically, your mental age was 3 years more or however many times the year had turned back.

Just listening to them gave you a headache. You shifted your attention, looking up to stare at the back of Saiki’s head. You had noticed that, for the most part, he was alone during the day, save for when Nendou and Kaidou— the light blue-haired boy who struck lightning, would come to talk to him.

You lightly shook your head when you realised your mistake; why were you even thinking about Saiki? You sighed inwardly, clearing your mind before turning to your right to look at the track field past the classroom window. You were bored— terribly bored, if your restless legs were anything to go by. You took the time to relish in the sun’s warmth beating down on your face, closing your eyes to enjoy the moment.

After a while, you faced forward again, your eyes scanning the room. That was when your gaze landed on the girl next to Saiki. If memory served you correctly from when the teacher did roll call that morning, her name was Chiyo Yumehara.

Yumehara was plain-looking for the most part and didn’t really stand out. She had rust-coloured hair at chin length and a simple headband with a bow on top of her head. What had caught your eye, however, wasn’t the girl herself— but the textbook she was doodling in. On closer inspection, you realised she was drawing Saiki. Once you leaned left, hands clasping the sides of your desk so you wouldn’t fall, you finally got a good look. Your face distorted in horror and despair at the crude reimagination of Saiki as some generic princely shoujo manga male lead.

You could assume one thing for sure, Yumehara definitely had a crush on Saiki. Why else would she take the time to sketch his face?

You continued to agonise over how she had drawn Saiki. He looked all mushy, not sharp and rough like he normally appeared. Truly ugly, in your opinion, since Saiki was closer to the 'cold, quiet’ type rather than the 'prince’. Her version of him had tame hair, sparkling eyes, and a soft expression.

How had she strayed so far from the original source material when he was less than a metre away from her? Saiki had unruly hair, blank eyes and sharp eyebrows that made his expression somewhat harsher.

Hold on— why were you paying that much attention to him to begin with? You sighed, rubbing your forehead as you looked back down at your desk to continue completing your homework. You decided then that though you had learnt something new by observing, you wouldn’t get involved. Nothing good would come of it, you were sure.

However, remaining unaffiliated proved to be a challenge.

Walking the halls of your school as you tried to navigate your way to the nurse’s office so you could get a bandage was difficult. Despite having been to the room already, you still didn’t know how to get there by yourself.

You had managed to cut yourself when turning the page of a textbook in class earlier. The pain was tremendous, even though the injury was minor one. You inspected the paper cut on your index finger, squeezing below the wound to see if blood would come out. It did. So you had no choice but to get up and roam the halls to find a plaster lest you stain your books with red.

You sighed in mild frustration, looking around, trying to spot someone you could ask to guide you to where you needed to go. That’s when you caught sight of Yumehara, who looked like she was peering around the corner, waiting for someone. With a nod to yourself, you began to stride up to her confidently. 

You faltered three steps in when Yumehara started to giggle to herself. You didn’t feel so bold anymore; the sound coming from her lips kind of freaked you out. Why was she laughing? She was completely alone, too. She looked like a pervert… was homegirl okay?

Despite hesitating, you knew it was too late to turn around and back out, so you settled on walking up to her anyway. You got close enough so that she could hear you before you spoke up. “Hey— uh, Yumehara?” She wouldn’t be creeped out that you already knew her name, right?

Yumehara nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of your voice. She turned around with a startled gasp, bringing up a hand to clutch at her chest. It was then that you noticed she was holding a bunch of papers. She was most likely going to drop them off somewhere for a teacher. Had you stalled her from getting to where she needed to be? …Oh, well, it's not like she had some time limit; class wasn't due to start for the next 10 minutes.

“Mind showing me the way to the nurse’s office? I don’t know where it is— since I’m new and all.” You unconsciously raised an eyebrow at the look of disdain that crossed Yumehara’s face, like she went poking in her ear and you were the earwax she pulled out. 

Hey, hey, hey! That was no way to act around someone who was in need. No matter, you’d pretend that she didn’t just give you a dirty look— you did require her assistance to find the nurse’s office after all. A beat of silence passed before she finally responded.

“…Oh. Uhh— sure, I’ll help you.” At least Yumehara didn’t outright refuse you. Guess she wasn’t as heartless as to tell you to look for someone else to help you with directions. You decided it was worthwhile to give her a smile of gratitude. “Thanks. I have a nasty paper cut, and I need a plaster.”

Then came the feeling of dread when Saiki rounded the corner. You froze, and for a moment, it felt as though your soul had left your body. 'Ah.’ Your lips slowly parted into a grimace. Your mind ran at a million miles per hour. Yumehara was trying to get alone with Saiki, wasn’t she? Had you ruined her plans? Had he noticed? The last thing you wanted was for Saiki to pay attention to you. He was dangerous. This was bad. Bad, bad, bad!

You inhaled, then exhaled, telling yourself to calm down. There was no way Saiki could have predicted that Yumehara was trying to bump into him just so she could have a reason to interact with him, right? That meant you were in the clear— there was no reason for you to be worried.

Yumehara watched as Saiki strolled past quietly, gazing after him with longing and disappointment. She sighed, clutching the papers in her arms closer to her chest as she signalled for you to follow her. At your success in not garnering Saiki’s attention, behind Yumehara, you pumped your fist in the air.

What you failed to notice was Saiki watching you do so. You trailed behind Yumehara with a slight skip to your step, completely oblivious.

'L/n… that’s her name, right? She did that on purpose, didn’t she? But why? ...Don’t tell me she has a crush on me, too. What a pain.’

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ 

Somehow, for the rest of the day, you unintentionally found yourself spoiling every part of Yumehara’s plan to get closer to Saiki.

When Yumehara dropped her pink handkerchief on the floor, you had retrieved it for her. You had noticed it fall, and like the good samaritan you were, you decided to give it back to her. What better way to pass the time on your break than collecting brownie points with her after you spoiled her first plan?

Pushing your chair back, you walked behind Yumehara and knelt so that you could pick it up for her. You unconsciously placed a hand on the metal stand that held up the desk next to you, which happened to be Saiki’s, so you wouldn’t fall.

You didn’t notice how she giggled and hummed to herself as she skipped away, too focused on doing a good deed. “Hey, Yumehara— is this yours?” You held up the pastel pink handkerchief and observed it in your hand as she turned around, her expression dropping as she realised it was you who had stopped her. Well, that wasn’t the look you expected to be greeted with when you helped her.

Then realisation hit you as she looked over your shoulder, and you followed her gaze to realise Saiki was right there behind you. Oh… You’d done it twice now. You had gotten in Yumehara’s way again, hadn’t you? And there you were thinking, it was weird when she dropped the handkerchief so aggressively. Ah— she had thrown it.

Had she done it on purpose… solely to get Saiki’s attention? It wasn’t a bad idea and probably would have worked had you not intervened. Saiki would have picked it up or helped her look for it if she asked. He wouldn’t have. You had ruined her chance. Again. Oh, for the love of—

You wanted to ram your head through the nearest wall. Even though you planned not to get involved, you still managed to get in the middle of Yumehara’s budding romance, and you only had yourself to blame.

The girl in question hurried over to you and snatched the handkerchief from your hand before she dramatically ran out of the classroom, clearly upset and somewhat embarrassed. Damn. The least you could do was apologise and say you were sorry after what you had done. “Geez, all I did was pick it up. Hey! We have class in three minutes! Yumehara, wait!” With that, you ran after her.

After you managed to chase her down, you apologised to Yumehara with a cold drink you bought from the vending machine. She didn’t seem too annoyed after that. You inwardly apologised to the girl for ruining her plans not once but twice— saying it out loud would only cause her embarrassment. With how covert she was being, she probably wouldn’t appreciate you rubbing salt into her wounds by bringing up her failed attempt at trying to play Cupid.

As your luck would have it, the rest of the day went by with you stopping Yumehara from getting close to Saiki at every turn— without even trying.

You picked up the ball in P.E. when it rolled over to Saiki’s direction, thinking you were being nice, only to realise later that Yumehara had purposely thrown it that far.

You opened the door to the staff room when Yumehara had too many books in her hands to do it herself. She had hoped Saiki would help her since he was nearby, but you had come to the rescue instead— your efforts were not appreciated.

You offered to help finish the extra cookies she made in Home Ec, successfully stopping her from going to find Saiki. All the while, you had done everything unconsciously, only realising your mistake afterwards. What a disaster.

The last lesson for the day came, and you rolled your neck from side to side, your mental exhaustion palpable. How had you stopped Yumehara’s plans every single time? Why did you have to be around whenever she decided to put her plan into motion?

You hoped she didn’t hate you. Or worse, think you were deliberately trying to stop her because you wanted Saiki all to yourself, which was the furthest from the truth anyone could get. Then again, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were the reason she started her Villain Arc and made you her first target. At least the woman had the patience of a saint; you had no idea how she hadn’t asked to take it outside yet.

You yawned into the back of your hand, waiting for the day to end, eyes trailing to the classroom window when the sound of rain filtered into your ears. There was a downpour.

Despite the weather being sunny in the morning, the clouds had turned grey, and the temperature had dropped significantly. You placed your head on the desk, its surface cool against the side of your face. Shivering at the sensation, you stretched your arms across the table before crossing them to completely hide your face.

The weather managed to affect your mood, making you feel drowsy as you tried to preserve warmth. At least there wasn’t long left till home time. You had nearly fallen asleep during the last period of the day, and thankfully, the teacher never commented.

When the bell rang, signalling that the school day was over, you rubbed the slumber from your eyes. You hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella, so you would either have to ask someone to share with you or use your bag as a shield against the drizzle.

You quickly packed up your things so you could hurry to the entrance, hoping you could catch someone to walk halfway home with. Grabbing your bag and placing its strap on your shoulder, you rushed to the shoe lockers. That’s when you caught sight of Yumehara.

She was standing just before the steps outside, the glass door between the two of you. She didn’t have an umbrella either. If you had to guess, she must have forgotten it at home like you did. Slipping your outdoor shoes on with one hand, you walked over to the entrance of the building and stepped through it.

You decided to wait beside her, hoping you’d get lucky and someone would offer to share an umbrella with you. “You forgot your umbrella, too?” You turned to Yumehara, who spoke first. “Huh? Oh— Yeah. I didn’t think it would rain today.” You looked up at the sky. Wow, this was awkward; you had no idea how to keep the conversation going.

The clouds were still grey, and the rain didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime soon. You breathed in the fresh air; the earthy smell accompanying the weather was always your favourite. Besides the part where you would get wet, you absolutely adored the rain.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, letting the soft patter of the falling water lull you into a sense of calm. You pulled out your phone to check the time. It didn’t look like anyone would offer to share an umbrella with you any time soon. “At this rate, we’re gonna have to walk home by ourselv—”

Before you could finish voicing your thoughts, miraculously, the clouds cleared, and the weather improved. You gaped up at the sun that had appeared out of nowhere. No matter how you looked at it, this turn of events was anything but normal. Was it Saiki?

You quickly shoved down the first thought that came to mind, moving away from the shade the school building provided as you started walking to the main gate. There was no way he was that powerful. Even humans had their limitations, and you couldn’t possibly have been so unlucky as to become classmates with someone with such extraordinary abilities.

You began to make your way home, and before long, you realised unusual things were happening around you. Right before you were about to get run over by a car, the vehicle seemingly defied all laws of psychics and flew over your head before driving off normally.

Then, when a biker nearly crashed into you, it somehow changed directions and swerved to the right, alarmingly close to driving onto the main road. That wasn’t normal, right? You weren’t going insane, were you? When someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance, you found that you were standing upright— like you didn’t nearly trip face-first onto the pavement.

What the hell was going on? Was it some long-forgotten ancestor who had taken pity on you? Or was the author apologising for the tremendous amount of bad luck they gave you?

As you looked around to make sense of things, you noticed Saiki. The bane of your existence. How was he everywhere? His pink hair made him easy to notice, even if he was trying to blend in with the crowd. Had he… had he saved you? Wait, that meant— he could use telekinesis?! You had to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. You could not let on that you knew of his powers.

You turned around, preparing to sprint, your grip on the shoulder strap of your bag tightening. “Who sent you?” At the sound of Saiki’s voice filling your ears, your stomach practically dropped to your feet, tensing when the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Why did you feel like you were in some sort of thriller movie?

The last thing you wanted to do was look behind you. In the film industry, that was as good as sealing your fate. Death was looming over your shoulder, and damn it all because you did not want to be the first one to die. Maybe if you pretended that you couldn’t hear— “I know you heard me.” You winced. This was not good. Sirens were going off in your head. Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!

You swore under your breath as you turned around to face the man. You didn't have much of a choice; you’d have to play dumb. “Hm? Oh! Saiki, right? What do you mean by that? I’m just a normal high school student.” You gave Saiki a strained smile. You weren’t lying; you weren’t anyone special save for your immunity to the supernatural.

Huh— was it just you, or was he prettier up close? You shunned the thoughts running through your head; now was not the time! Saiki narrowed his eyes, the suspicion in them clear as day. “Who are you?” Now, you were confused. Did he think you were a spy or something? Had no one else noticed his powers like you had? He wasn’t exactly careful about using them since they had caught your attention early on.

“I— uh, I’m l/n. Your classmate. I sit behind you?” Saiki furrowed his eyebrows ever so slightly, clenching his jaw. There was silence for a moment, and you wondered if that meant you could leave. “Follow me." You hesitated, unsure what to do, as he swiftly turned on his heel to walk away. He paused when he realised you weren't following, looking at you over his shoulder. "Come on.” He wasn’t going to give up, was he?

The seed of doubt had already been planted, and there was no getting rid of it now. You wouldn’t be able to bluff your way out of this one. Maybe confronting him would be better? That way, you wouldn’t have to worry about avoiding him all the time. You fast-walked to close the distance between you and him.

For the entirety of the journey, you wondered where he was taking you. You prayed to whichever higher power was willing to listen that he wouldn’t murder you. From what you had seen, he could easily do so.

“Where are we?” You stopped in front of the house before you. You guessed it must be his house, but asking to make sure was always a good thing. “This is my home.” Oh, boy. You knew one thing for sure; you definitely weren’t prepared for this.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ 

For a psychic, Saiki’s room was more average than you expected it to be. There was a desk, a bed and a TV. Other amenities, such as the wardrobe built into the wall, a bookshelf and a small planted tree for decor, were also in plain sight. The bedroom of a typical high school teenager.

It was… weird. From what you could tell, Saiki was an esper, so you assumed he would have an extravagant room, at least. That meant that he didn’t use his powers for the wrong things. So you could safely assume he wouldn’t kill you in cold blood, right?

Saiki wouldn’t murder you, would he? He wouldn’t be so careless as to slaughter his classmate in his own house. That would make him the lead suspect in your homicide, right?

His mum knew you were here too, so he wouldn’t use violence to subdue you, no? You hoped so. Mrs Saiki had been cooking when you came in. Saiki didn’t let you see each other but she seemed like the sweetest woman by the way she greeted him, so naturally— her son would have inherited some of her personality traits, right? You wanted to leave already. Being alone with him was hurting your peace of mind— why couldn't he do this in front of his mother?

“I’ll ask again. Who are you?” While Saiki had parked himself on the chair facing away from his desk, looking at you sceptically as he sat like he owned the place (which he did), you chose to stand across from him. Damn, this was awkward. Why had he brought you here again? “I told you, I’m just a classmate.”

You hoped your answer would be enough to appease him. You thought wrong. "…Why can’t I figure you out?“ You raised an eyebrow at that. It didn’t seem as though he was asking you; more like he was talking out loud. Then again, he did deliberately voice his question, so that meant you could pry. "I’m sorry?”

“I can’t read your thoughts. Why is that? Are you stupid? Or did someone send you?” He was blunt, huh? Did he have no manners? Assuming that you were a moron… was kind of mean. You were somewhat offended. Wait— he said he couldn’t read your thoughts. Did that mean he could use telepathy as well?

“Ah… You also have telepathy?” It would explain a lot, like how he could reply to others even though it looked like he was staying silent— but wrapping your head around the fact that he had that many powers was almost impossible. Truly mindboggling. Your brain was hurting.

“Also?” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow at you. Saiki looked at you expectantly, leaning back in his chair as he waited for you to elaborate. Cursing yourself inwardly for not thinking before you spoke, you found interest in the pens on his desk. The cat was out of the bag, so there was no point in trying to hide it. “I might have seen you use your powers. Uh, pyrokinesis, telekenisis and… superhuman strength?”

Silence followed after you spoke, and you stared down at your feet. “I have to get rid of you.” Your head snapped up to look at Saiki, your eyes widening. You gaped at him, your mind running a million miles per hour.

You were right! He was going to murder you! Oh, no, no, no! You still had so many things you wanted to cross off your bucket list— so many sights you had yet to see! This could not be happening!

“Wait, wait, wait— that— that’s too far, man! I have a family— kids, I have kids!” It was true that humans would spout nonsense when faced with imminent death, and you were living proof of it. You winced at the words that were coming out of your mouth.

No, you did not have children, but you would say anything if it meant staying alive. Your lips trembled as you gazed at Saiki with pleading eyes. You didn’t want to die! Not like this!

“Don’t lie. I know for a fact that you don’t.” Saiki shot you an unamused look as he stared you down. You broke out into a cold sweat. What the hell were you going to do now? Only one thing came to mind. “Please! Spare me! I’ll do anything!” You got onto your knees as you begged with your hands clasped together.

Your dignity went straight out the window, and you couldn’t care. You would shamelessly plead for your life if it meant he wouldn’t kill you. “Start by telling me why I can’t read your thoughts and who sent you.”

So, he wouldn’t kill you if you told him the truth? Fine, that was a small price to pay. You’d rat out your own flesh and blood if it meant he would leave you be. You were heartless like that— oh well, survival of the fittest, as they say. You looked up in hope at the man before you for throwing you a lifeline. You could still get out of this unscathed!

“No one! Damn it! I already told you, I’m just a regular high school student… and the thing with the mind-reading— I guess you could say I’m immune.” If anyone walked into the room, they would most likely assume that you were doing something not so family-friendly, but it wasn't like you could move.

Get your mind out of the gutter! You internally cursed at yourself for having thought such a thing. It was too late to get up now; you’d have to stay on your knees. Besides, you didn’t know if you were in the clear yet or not, so you’d remain in place until you were sure. You just hoped Mrs Saiki was the type of parent who wouldn’t walk through the door unannounced; you still had some decency worth saving.

“Immune?” Saiki leaned forward in his chair, showing a slight interest in your words. He tilted his head to the side as he studied you. “Yes. To everything supernatural. Naturally, that means all of your powers don’t work on me.”

Once you were finished with your brief explanation, Saiki brought a hand up to his chin. “…So that’s why… Tell me, have you noticed anything weird with the world?” Saiki moved his gaze from the ceiling down to you as he gave you a blank stare. You looked elsewhere to gather your thoughts. There were so many things you could think of, off the top of your head.

“Uh… Yeah? Do you mean the weird hair colours? The quick healing? Oh, and the chop to the neck can knock someone out. There’s the fact that skinny people can be super strong and how clothes can get ripped off of someone, but their hoo-ha’s are still covered. The worst of it all is the year keeps repeating itself. Did you notice that, too?” You used your fingers to list everything weird thing you’ve noticed before you turned to Saiki.

Finally! Someone who understood your struggles, you'd been graced with an ally with whom you could share your troubles. Silence followed, and your natural response was to overthink. Saiki didn’t speak for a moment, leaving you wondering what you said wrong. “How… How is that possible?” You perked up at his words before looking at him sceptically. “What do you mean?”

“None of my powers work on you. Not even mind control… The weird things around you were all caused by me.”  

The air was stagnant; not a single word was exchanged as his words sank in. Then, your jaw nearly fell to the floor at Saiki’s revelation. He did all that? How on earth did he have the ability to pull all that off? Take the crazy hair colours for example— if he was the cause of it, then he had managed to alter human biology down to the genetic level.

Wasn’t this the part where your fight-or-flight response was supposed to kick in? Of course, your body would choose the 'freeze’ option. Staying still wasn’t helping your current mental state. The fact that Saiki had enough power to destroy the world, with just his mind if he wanted to, terrified you. The man before you was the most dangerous human to exist on earth to date. No living creature should be allowed to possess such abilities.

“Huh?! It was— It was you? This entire time? You— What the hell?! …Are you— are you even human?” Your mind reeled, and you struggled to form coherent sentences. Was Saiki the reason you had such a bad headache that you nearly collapsed on your first day at PK Academy? It made sense. Had you gotten used to his powers, then? Was that why you were able to be near him now?

“I’m just a regular high school student.” You looked at Saiki in sheer disbelief and doubt. He was anything but a normal person. He was definitely the most potent psychic you had ever met. You shook your head at his statement. “No, you aren’t. That's— That’s a lie.” You folded your arms over your chest. “I am. If you try telling anyone else otherwise… well.” Saiki brought his hand up before he swiped his thumb across his throat.

The nerve! He was threatening you, and you… you couldn’t even do anything about it! You bit your lip in mild frustration before you sighed. “Y'know what— forget it. Fine, keep your secrets. Just don’t kill me.” There was no other option. You’d have to yield and wave the flag of surrender.

Saiki crossed his legs and placed his hand on his knee, the other on the armrest of his chair. “So, your immunity? Explain it to me.” Why did he have to be so intimidating? Your knees still hurt from sitting on the floor. You’d stay put just in case, though— you didn’t feel like risking your life over a case of sore limbs.

“I'm not sure why, but I've always noticed weird things; I guess I just developed a natural immunity to the supernatural for some reason. The power to nullify other’s abilities when used on me.” You didn't know why you were being this honest. Maybe because your life was on the line? Who knew?

“Can you turn it off?” You halted any movement when your mind finally processed what Saiki said. He couldn’t read your mind; you knew that much, so would lying to him have any repercussions? One look at Saiki’s emotionless face told you that you didn’t want to find out.

You opted to lean back and sit with your legs folded beneath you so your weight would no longer only be on your knees. Damn, you felt like you spent the day working your back at the gym; that was your exercise for the week. You sighed as you looked down at your lap before meeting Saiki’s gaze again. “Er… Do you have to know?” His response was almost immediate, “Yes.”

You internally groaned. Your immunity was your trump card. If you revealed everything, it meant giving up the privacy of every one of your thoughts. You would no longer have the upper hand.

You shook your head; you refused to meet your end here. It was either spill the truth, or it was your funeral. You chose the former. “Well, if I uh— if I put in enough effort, I can turn my immunity off. Would you— um… would you like me to try?” Truly, this was by far the most bizarre encounter you had. You felt like some backwater fanfiction character, stuttering and stumbling over your words.

The silence that followed made you cringe. You couldn’t even distract yourself or break away from your little staring contest with Saiki. It didn’t help that his eyes scared you— like he saw right through you as if he could read you like an open book. It was unnerving. “…Okay.” You didn’t realise that you were holding your breath until he spoke.

You were about to tell him that you needed physical contact to be able to turn your immunity off, and then an idea hit you. It was a bad idea, a terrible idea, and it could get you killed— but if you succeeded, you were sure it’d be worth it.

You weighed the pros and cons before deciding you didn’t care what would happen. Pranking Saiki, if you could even call it that, would not affect him if he was able to predict it with his telepathy. This would be the last time you’d be able to trick Saiki, so why not go for it? You were giving up your ability to think freely, after all. “Let me tell you a story before I turn it off.” You looked up at him with determination.

Saiki was not amused. He stared at you for a moment, then sighed before he relented. “Fine. Hurry up and get it over with.” You weren’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but for a second, it looked like his eyes gleamed with curiosity. You held yourself back from grinning. He was a fool! He’d played right into your hands! You bit your cheek to resist the urge to snicker, lest you give yourself away too much.

Bringing your fist up to your mouth, you proceeded to clear your throat for dramatic effect. “A student trains whilst his master looks on. When the student notices his mentor, he turns to him and enquires what’s wrong. The master replies that his time has come, and he must go.” Saiki looked about as interested as a rock, but from the way he was leaning forward ever so slightly, you could tell he wanted to know more.

You continued, “The student became upset, claiming that he still needed guidance and that he couldn't do it without his teacher. Chuckling, his mentor admits that the student will surpass his teacher in no time, so he no longer needs help.”

You felt pretty good about the fact that you’d roped Saiki in. You decided then that if he chose to hack you to pieces for this, you’d be okay with it. In essence, what you were about to do was equivalent to rickrolling Saiki. “The student denies this and says that his teacher has seen and done everything, so a mere student like himself can’t surpass him.”

You wanted to catch Saiki completely off guard, and you were sure there was no way he’d see it coming. “The teacher says that the student overestimates him. That there are things he has yet to do, sights he has yet to see. The student is now curious, so he asks what his teacher means by 'sights he has yet to see’.”

You could barely keep a straight face, but somehow, you pulled through without laughing at your joke. “The teacher doesn’t have much time left. As he begins to fade away, he says... 'I have never laid my eyes upon two pretty best friends… one of them was always unsightly’.”

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach expand as you held your laugh in until it dawned on him what you were referencing. To rub salt into the wound, you did your best to put on an accent as you continued, “I ain’t ever seen two pretty best friends; it’s always one of 'em gotta be ugly.”

Saiki became visibly distressed as his lips parted in slight disbelief. This was the most expressive you’d seen him all week, and you decided in that moment it was well worth it. “Even now, I can’t escape that godforsaken video… Everywhere I go, someone always has to think of it.”

You couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to. You dissolved into cackles at his reaction, only stopping when Saiki menacingly moved to stand up from his chair. “I may be patient… but I am no saint.” You spluttered, trying to crawl backwards as you looked up at the psychic. “Han— hang on!”

Saiki only stared down at you in mild distaste. "I will cleanse you off this earth.“ You met his gaze with your own incredulous one. "That— That’s not very cash money of you.” Telling him that joke was still worth it. You valued your life, sure, but clearly not enough to practice some self-restraint.

Before Saiki could corner you and do the deed kill you in cold blood, you quickly retaliated. “Hey, wait— wait! If it weren’t for you turning back time every year, I’d be old enough to drive! I wouldn't be slaving away, still trying to pass the same curriculum I know off by heart. Do you have any idea how much you’ve cost me cause you used your abilities?! …Now we’re even.” You huffed once you were finished with your little rant, folding your arms across your chest.

That seemed to do the trick, as Saiki considered your words before taking a seat again on the chair in front of his desk. You raised an eyebrow at his actions. He was easily guilt-tripped, huh? How interesting. As they say, you learn something new every day. That could go in the memory bank for later use.

You put your hand in front of Saiki, palm side up. “Alright, let’s get this over with. Give me your hand.” He looked from you to your hand and then back. His reluctance was clear as day, causing you to exhale through your nose. “Oh, come on! You asked me to show you and turn off my immunity, so give it.” You made 'grabby fingers’ at him, furthering your point. Saiki hesitated for a second before he sighed in defeat. “Fine.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips unconsciously as you waited patiently for Saiki to place his hand in yours. When he did, you shoved down the thoughts that claimed how smooth and warm his hand was. Curse you, your tendency to be a touch-starved heathen and the pretty boy in front of you who was red flags all around. Now was not the time to be distracted!

You regulated your breathing, closing your eyes. 'Inhale, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, hold, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, exhale, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Inhale…’ It didn’t take long for the black that you were used to behind your eyelids to change to an image of Saiki holding your hand. The best way to describe the process was that it was close to an out-of-body experience. All you knew for sure was that you had no control over your actual body.

Despite everything being dark, you could see Saiki and yourself clearly, as if the two of you were illuminated. You turned your gaze downward at where the two of you were connected before observing the man. That’s when you noticed it. Thin strings, thousands— no millions of them, coming from his body and disappearing into the distance.

The maximum number of strings you had seen on a person had been around 3 or 4. You had never encountered someone with so many before. You were reminded in that moment that Saiki was the most powerful human on earth. As if there was any before, but there was no doubt about it after this.

There were so many broken strings between you and Saiki that you were unsure which one would switch off your immunity to his telepathy. This whole process of 'turning it off' was basically a visual guessing game. The only thing you could do was trust your intuition since that worked for you majority of the time.

The thin strings that stuck out of Saiki’s temple caught your attention; there may have been ten or so of them, and a few strings coming through his eyelashes, tangled in the mix. It had to be one of them— your gut feeling told you so. It was now or never, so you willed them to connect with you, for the strings to mend. The process took longer than usual, a given since Saiki was such a powerful esper.

Once you were done and finally opened your eyes, you realised you were clenching your teeth. The headache that hit you was expected, and you were grateful you were on the floor. If you had been standing, you would have fallen already.

You rubbed at your forehead, your fingers trying to lessen the pain by massaging your temples. “There. That should do it. Try using your telepathy on me.” You didn’t notice Saiki’s stare or the look of mild concern he shot your way; too busy trying to ease your migraine.

'Can you hear me?’  You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Saiki’s voice reverberating inside your brain. The heavy furrow between your brow relaxed somewhat when you realised that your headache was gone. How? You had no idea. 'Wahhh, your voice is echoing in my head. This is weird.’

“So, it does work.” There was a slight difference between Saiki using his telepathy only on you and him using telepathy to speak, the slight echo. It was so minuscule that one wouldn’t notice unless they were looking for it. The only similarity was that both times, he hadn’t moved his mouth. Until now, Saiki’s lips had moved when he addressed you. It was weird, knowing that he communicated with you now without moving a muscle.

You surmised that he was talking to you telepathically now. Did that mean others could hear, too, or was it just one person at a time or something? You got rid of the mental image of Saiki turning to everyone in class to repeat himself until everyone heard, as soon as it appeared. No— they could probably hear him if they were close enough; he was the most potent psychic you’d seen, after all.

Saiki nodded as if to confirm your suspicions. He folded his arms over his chest as he gazed down at you. "I’m talking to you telepathically, but it’s different. Anyone in hearing distance will be able to pick up on the sound of my voice.“ He had read your mind, hadn’t he? He answered your questions without you having to say them aloud.

Having thought it up yourself was one thing, and having him agree with your deductions was another. It was similar to having a theory about a show and then later finding out that it was canon. You landed somewhere between feeling awe and slight shock.

"You're that in tune with your powers? Unbelievable. Do you— Do you have any more abilities?” You were on the edge of your seat because this topic absolutely fascinated you. The sense of danger and fear you once felt when near Saiki was nowhere to be found.

You wondered why since it was only 10 minutes ago that you wanted to get as far away from him as possible. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say, but satisfaction always brings it back, so were you really in the wrong? “I have multiple powers. Telekinesis, levitation, x-ray vision, clairvoyance, astral projection, pyrokinesis, mind control, psychometrics, and invisibility are a few I can name off the top of my head. Only one of which works on you.”

Your lips parted, and you weren’t sure how exactly you were supposed to feel after being bombarded with such information. The number of powers Saiki possessed would explain why you had seen so many strings on him before. “Seriously? Are you sure you’re human?”

“I'm just your average high school.” You would've assumed he was humble, but the way he was adamant made you think he was trying to convince himself, too. To each their own, though. If he wanted to be average, then who were you to fault him?

You wondered if it was your place to say what was on your mind before you abandoned the thought. Why did it matter? He knew what you were thinking anyway. Damn, most people could only dream of the abilities Saiki had, but surely being that powerful came with a price.

You had your powers, and if you hadn't experienced them first-hand, you’d think they were super cool, but you knew the burden. The grass wasn’t always greener on the other side, and the law of equivalent exchange was true. To gain something, something else of equal must be lost. Maybe that was why Saiki was so emotionless, kinda like Mob from Mob Psycho 100.

“How… how do you even live with a burden like that?” You popped the question that had been bugging you. When you took a peek at Saiki, your eyebrows raised in surprise when you realised that this was the most astonished you’d seen Saiki in the time you’d observed him, though he quickly regained his composure. “Burden? …Why would you think it’s a burden?” He patiently waited for you to answer, and you found yourself gazing past his shoulder at the wall behind him.

“Well… if you look past the hype, then isn’t it just troublesome? From how you act, I’m guessing you have no control over your telepathy. Always knowing what others are thinking— even if you don’t want to must be hard, no? I bet it’s spoiled a lot of movies and shows for you. I’m guessing it makes it really hard to make friends, too, since no one can know about your powers.” You listed your reasons one by one. ”Oh.”

For once, you were being honest willingly. You may not have had psychic powers yourself, so you couldn’t be certain Saiki agreed with your guesses, but you could at least try to sympathise. It was the same with you since your immunity had its ups and downs.

You didn’t notice the silence that engulfed the room, too busy stuck in your thoughts. “I’m going to be blunt. Do you like me?” For a second, your mind short-circuited because you couldn’t wrap your head around Saiki’s words. A flurry of questions filled your head. 'How did this happen?’, 'Why did it happen?’, 'Where am I?’, and 'Who am I?’, the norm. 'Get a grip!’ You pulled yourself together before you replied. “What? Huh? Why would you even think—”

Saiki remained stoic, cutting you off so he could speak. “You stopped all of Yumehara’s plans when she tried to get closer to me.” So, maybe after his revelation, you could kind of, somewhat, maybe understand why he would jump to the conclusion that you liked him. It was reasonable if you looked at it from his point of view, but it was the furthest anyone could get from the truth.

You admitted to finding him attractive, sure, but that was because you had eyes that could see clearly. He was pretty; what else was there to say? It didn’t go any further than that, though. You barely knew the guy! “You noticed that? Uh— no. No, I don’t. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time... Multiple times.”

Knowing that he had psychic powers made it easy to understand how he had picked up on your behaviour at school. Saiki nodded, and you guessed that he was indicating that he believed you.

You were at a loss now of what you should do. How was one supposed to continue the conversation in this situation, again? “Don’t tell a soul about what happened here today. I mean it. I’ll know if you breathe a word of this to anyone." You readily agreed to his request, signalling that you’d keep everything a secret; it's not like you went around airing people's dirty laundry anyway.

Before you had a chance to say anything else to Saiki, the sound of a notification from your phone drew your attention. Pulling the device out of your bag, you checked the lock screen to investigate. A text from a family member had let you know that there was a package for you.

'There’s a box full of coffee jelly. Give them out to your classmates so you can make more friends!’

You suspected that they bulk-brought coffee jelly from the supermarket so you could hand it out to your class after the weekend. You sighed; it’s not like you needed it. Besides, what would happen if your classmates didn’t like the desert? You’d rather not be humiliated by rejection.

"Coffee jelly?” You forgot Saiki could read your thoughts now. You lowered your phone to look at the psychic in question, raising your eyebrow. Even if his expression was neutral, his previously blank eyes were practically sparkling.

Did he… like coffee jelly? You decided to take the risk of asking him if he wanted some. It was easier to be rejected by an acquaintance (?) rather than a stranger. “Do you uh— do you want some? I don’t plan on handing them out to people or eating them all by myself. They’ll go to waste… but if you’re willing to take them off my hands—”

“Yes. I’ll take them.” Saiki’s response was instantaneous. You couldn’t stop the slight smile of surprise that graced your lips. You hid it with your phone as you studied him. What a turn of events. There was no sign of the all-powerful esper you were used to. 'He’s much less intimidating like this.’

“Well… do you wanna go to my place, then?”

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ 

bonus:

Saiki returned to his house after a long day, making his way up the stairs to go to his room shortly after taking off his shoes. He thought back to the day's events, satisfied with the outcome.

Saiki would never admit it, but his favourability for you had sky-rocketed when you offered him coffee jelly. He guessed that it wasn’t so bad that you knew of his powers now since it had ended with him getting his new favourite dessert.

You giving him the treat was enough for him to no longer consider you a nuisance. He would never tell you this in person, of course. He would rather die than let you find out he held you to a higher standard than his classmates now.

'Claiming my powers are a burden when anyone else would praise them… you’re interesting, l/n.’

Saiki decided not to dwell on his thoughts as he changed out of his uniform and got ready to go to bed.

At least now, he could finally read your mind. He no longer considered you dangerous, and with that, another disastrous day of his managed to meet a not-so-disastrous end.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

next part -   metanoia (coming soon!)

[deathbxnny]

hey I need you SO BAD to do like an arcane reaction where they’re drunk and what they do/say while it and btw I love your writing

What Arcane characters are like when drunk. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

So this may have become a little too angsty for some of them, so uh... don't mind me-

Also, thank you so much! I'm glad you love my writing. It means a lot to me!<33

Content: Alcohol obviously, some potential heavy angst, Pit fighter Vi, established romantic relationships, some toxic behavior, this has been written by someone who has never drank a sip of alcohol in their life so I'm sorry if this is unrealistic, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not fully proofread))

》VI

Her being drunk wasn't unusual, and in fact, it has become the norm for her at this point. It was the only way for her to numb the agony she was going through every day, and there was no stopping the cycle she was in. If she wasn't drunk, then she was fighting. But even the line that was drawn between those two states she was constantly in was becoming blurry and unintelligible. Things were getting out of hand, and so was her aggression towards everything that moved, anything that cared for her.

But at least you were still here with her, trying your best to keep her together and intact when she refused to be.

She can be cruel and unfocused whilst drunk, often either yelling or punching things to express her frustrations, and yet she never dared hurt you. You were the only light she had left, and she'd be damned if she snuffed you out, too. But this doesn't mean that she can control her words at times. She says things she regrets all the time, insults that cut deep or accusations that made no sense were common. Yet you stayed, you always stayed.

A part of her knows you deserve better, but until Jinx showed up, she refused to wane off the bottle that kept her even partially functioning daily. In a different life, she'd put the bottle down, however, and just finally hug you instead.

》CAITLYN

She doesn't drink much, and when she does, it's in strict moderation. She has a reputation to keep up and can't let her sharp senses falter at any time, especially once she becomes the commander of Piltover. But when it's just the two of you attempting to relax after an impossibly stressful day, the alcohol helps her relax and become more open with her troubles. Her grief had manifested into an uncontrollable force she shyed away from every speaking on, but in drunken moments like these, she'll allow herself to find melancholy in your arms, her flushed face pressed into your shoulder as she did so.

She may cry or laugh of the worries of the day, maybe break down from the guilt and frustrations, let the anger quell over but only still hesitantly even with her judgment clouded. This is a very rare state to see her in after the loss of her mother, and she trusts you to keep this vulnerable part of her safe and sound in your heart behind locked lips.

With that said, knowing how emotional she can get whilst drunk, she tries avoiding drinking too much during functions in case things get too much out of hand. She'd rather not make a fool of herself infront of everyone after all.

》JINX

She doesn't typically drink. But the few times she does with you at her side, she somehow becomes extremely calm and lazy. She'll practically lay in the chair she was sitting in, eyes squinting at a far away point on the wall, whilst she seemingly contemplates life. Most would think that the alcohol would enable her crazy tendencies even more, but alas, it simply turns her mostly docile.

I say mostly, as she usually mentally comes up with the craziest plans instead, all of which are questionably more unethical than the last. She'll eventually lose herself in those thoughts and become either unresponsive or mutter the silliest, incomprehensible things known to man. And there is certainly no in-between.

With that said, she will probably eventually snap out of it and begin rapidly speaking about all these thoughts to you without a single care in the world. Drunk Jinx is somehow less miserable and yet absolutely doesn't like the feeling of it afterward. Sure, it makes her mind stop thinking about her issues and past, but it still feels wrong, hence why it's rare to see her drunk.

Her terrible hangovers alone also cause her to stay away from alcohol in general. It's definitely not worth that pain to her.

》EKKO

Another person who doesn't drink often at all, albeit out of his responsibility as a leader. He has to be a good role model for everyone and only drinks when the occasion calls for it, like a festival or get together with friends and you. That's when he lets loose a little and allows himself to drink more than he probably should, resulting in a very clingy and loving Ekko.

His alcohol tolerance is embarrassingly low, and he always tells himself that he should know better than to down so many glasses at once... yet it's hard to keep count after about 2 and a half of them. Or so he'd say after he sobers up in the morning, much to your amusement. During the time he's fully hammered, though, he'll always have a hand in you and slur his words rather heavily, whilst he practically near proclaims his love for you for everyone to hear. This often results in you having to slap a hand over his mouth before he embarrasses himself further... which is somehow he hates.

He gets teased by the others all the time for it and glares when they mock his loving tone of voice that he only uses when he's in that impaired state with you. This alone makes him abstain from even a singular drop of alcohol... until the next festival roles around and he forgets to keep count again.

But hey, maybe he'll remember next time because you sure as hell won't remind him.

》SEVIKA

She drinks at bars all the time with you, although it's rare to see her ever get completely drunk. She has an extremely high tolerance to alcohol and it shows when there is barely a difference in her behavior. The only thing that may indicate something influencing her would be a slight slur in her voice and her being unwilling to get up or move around much at all. She'll just want to relax and play poker in peace, even if it starts getting hard to see the cards after a while.

Another way to tell that she may be getting drunk is by her sudden overprotectiveness. Sure, it was always there and never left, despite you being able to handle yourself alone. But when she's drunk, anyone that looks at you for too long in a way she doesn't like will either be punched in the face or yelled at to keep it moving.

She also definitely always denys being drunk or even tipsy when you ask her. Whether out of pride or stubbornness, you'll never know, but she will never admit to it. It doesn't matter if she denies it whilst being unable to walk straight either.

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Halloween (1978).

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 3.1k.

TW: No Curses!AU, Serial Killer AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Character Death, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Reader is Pregnant, Blood, Age Gap (Reader is 32, Gojo is 18), and No Actual Incest, But The Vibes Are There. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

There was a man in your kitchen.

Which, to be fair, you’d already known. You’d only woken up because you heard something clattering on that side of your house, only gotten out of bed because the noise had gotten too loud to ignore. You figured your husband (as lovable as he was clumsy, unfortunately) had dropped something during a late-night water run and managed to hurt himself while cleaning it up, and knowing him, your pristine house would be in ruins if he tried to handle it himself. You didn’t particularly care about the mess. It could wait until tomorrow – tonight, all you needed him to worry about was keeping your bed warm.

Exhausted and bleary-eyed, you didn’t think to go back to bed when the noises stopped, didn’t notice how eerily silent your home had grown in the absence of your husband’s rustling. No possibility worse than a little broken glass ever crossed your mind, not until you reached the doorway, until your fickle attention caught on the dots of blood splattered across the perfectly white tiles of your floor; not very many and not very big, but still, more than you thought there’d be. Your eyes followed them left until they grew into a trail, then a puddle, and then finally, your husband – lying on his side, crumpled against the nearest cabinet. You couldn’t see where he was hurt. You couldn’t see is he was breathing.

Blankly, you slumped against the doorframe, suddenly feeling both infinitely more awake and infinitely more dazed than you had the second prior. Almost involuntarily, you called out to him, only aware of the sound of your voice after it’d left your mouth. “…Hiromi? Baby?”

“Not quite.” Your eyes shot up and through the unlit space. It seemed unthinkable that there’d be someone else in the room, that there’d be someone responsible for this, and yet, there he was, standing over what used to be your husband – dark stains painted across the material of his black hoodie, a knife still clutched in his right hand. The knife was set delicately onto the nearest countertop, his foot knocking into your husband’s shoulder with a hollow, fleshy sound he stepped over him, and then, the murderer was in front of you, eyes too bright to be completely human prying into you through the darkness. “But, you remember my name too, right?”

You didn’t, but it came to you quickly. His stark white hair should’ve been the first give-away, and yet, it took another second of staring into those horrible blue eyes to fully believe what you were looking at.

“Satoru?”

It couldn’t have been. You knew it couldn’t have been. It’d been a decade since you last saw him – or, rather, since you last saw the starry-eyed eight-year-old who’d cling to your waist and make you promise to teach him how to braid flower frowns after he was done with his daily lessons. This wasn’t your Satoru. This was a grown man, covered in your husband’s blood and holding his hands up in a show of faux-innocence as he approached you, a startlingly familiar smile already contorting his otherwise blank expression. You tried to take a step back, to retreat without turning away from him, but your heel caught on something wet and too terrible to name and you fell, landing with your back against the corridor wall. Your hands shot to your stomach instinctually, but Satoru didn’t seem to notice, dropping to one knee in front of you. “Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” And then, without ever letting his grin falter. “I’m sorry I made such a mess. I was just so happy to see you, and then someone else came to greet me, and I think I might’ve lost my temper. It used to happen a lot after you’d leave, too—”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you cut in, breathless from the very first word. That, at least, got him to stop smiling.

“Hurt you? Why would I…” He spared a glance over his shoulder, then let out a bark of a laugh. “Oh. No, no, I’d never do that to you. It’s just—He was telling me to leave, and I knew you’d be so happy to see me, and I already apologized for the mess. You used to let me off the hook all the time, if I seemed sorry enough.”

He was right, you had. You’d been young and optimistic, and his offenses had been limited to childish temper-tantrums and a few unkind comments made towards his more discipline-focused household staff. But, notably, he’d also been eight, and you’d been fired in less than a year, and he’d never killed anyone in front of you. God, this was bad. This was so, so, so bad. Hiromi was dead, and you were going to die next, and your baby was—

You couldn’t let yourself think about that. It was all you could do to stop yourself from hyperventilating, to drag yourself out of an oncoming panic attack and back to the very real, very present threat in front of you. Satoru had already hurt someone. He could hurt you, too, even if he wasn’t holding a weapon. You needed to call someone. Better yet, you needed to get away from him.

It took everything you had not to let your voice shake, to force your tongue to cooperate. You tried to remember what it’d been like to be an overconfident twenty-something taking care of a kid just a little too eager to soak in your praise, but abandoned the effort before you could make this any worse for yourself. “Does… Does your family know where you are, ‘toru?”

And, just like that, his smile was back in full force. Almost gleefully, he shook his head. “I don’t think they’ve known for a while now, ma’am.”

Fuck. That was right. You hadn’t been fired – there’d been a fire, or an accident, you couldn’t remember the details. You’d heard, months later, that Satoru had been the lone survivor, but you weren’t sure what happened to him after that.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” It was hard to feign sympathy when the love of your life’s body was still warm, but you managed. “But, you still did something very, very wrong tonight, and I think we should call someone to help.”

“Well, we can’t do that. They’d just take you away from me again.” You bit into the inside of your cheek. So he wasn’t completely delusional, after all. “That’s what my clan wanted to do. They said you were distracting me, and that you’d have to leave. I told them I didn’t want you to, but…” He paused, laughed. “I guess that doesn’t matter, anymore.”

You opened your mouth, but Satoru didn’t give you a chance to speak. Without warning, he surged forward, cupping your face in his hands, his smile taking on a manic lull. “I waited.” He sounded so proud of himself, like he expected you to congratulate him. “I could’ve come to you right away, but I was good, I waited. I knew I had to be a little older. I knew you’d always take care of me, but I had to be able to take care of you, too.”

Something heavy and sharp turned over in the pit of your stomach. “…I really don’t need you to take care of anything, ‘toru.”

“I know.” Impossibly, his eyes seemed to grow even brighter. “I want to, though. Because it’s what you did for me.”

And then, almost breathlessly, “Because I love you.”

You were going to be sick.

You didn’t know what to say. Even if you had, you wouldn’t have been able to spit it out, not with your teeth grit and your throat filled with cotton. Pathetically, you tried to push him away, to stand up, but Satoru only cooed and took your attempts at resistance as a sign to move on, to move forward. You felt his arms snake around your waist only half a second before you felt him straighten against you – pushing himself to his feet and pulling you into a sort-of bridal carry, not unlike something your husband would’ve done when he was feeling sappily romantic, which he almost always was.

Satoru’s embrace was too unwelcome to be romantic, though, too stiff to be comfortable, and worst of all, too tight to fight against as he made his way through your now-barren home. He didn’t ask you for directions or try any doors. Rather, almost too confidently, he found his way to the master bedroom, the door still ajar from when you’d stumbled through it minutes prior. Unceremoniously, eagerly, you were dropped onto the center of your bed and before you had time to get away, Satoru was on top of you; a knee by your hip, a hand by your head, his mouth on yours. His teeth scrapped across your lips and clashed against yours, his tongue forcing its way down your throat as he let out a wavering, pitchy moan against your mouth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought that Satoru wasn’t a very good kisser, then felt repulsed at yourself. That wasn’t something you were supposed to know. Not about Satoru.

He really had been such a sweet kid. It’d been years since the last time you thought about him, but it would’ve been hard to forget how he’d pouted when you told him homework came before sweets, how his eyes lit up the first time whenever you managed to convince his caretakers that he’d earned a fieldtrip, even if you’d never taken him anywhere more exciting than the local aquarium. You’d never planned to spend the rest of your life filling-in for his perpetually absent parents, but your heart had broken just a little when one of the family’s maids let you know that she’d overheard future plans to let you go. He’d gotten too attached, she’d said. He’s been calling you ‘mom’.

…

Maybe you shouldn’t have been so surprised. It wasn’t like this was ever going to end well for either of you.

When Satoru broke away, it was only to pull his hoodie and shirt over his head with all the grace and all the care of an overeager teenager, too desperate to get back to the act at-hand to think about impressing you. He moved to kiss you, again, but you managed to catch him by the shoulders, to hold him off just long enough to find your voice. “Wait, Satoru.” He didn’t, but he dropped lower, his mouth falling to your neck, then your collarbone. You felt his hand graze over your thigh, and were suddenly aware that you’d gone to bed in an oversized shirt and nothing else. “You don’t really want to do this, you’re just confused. You should take a second to catch your breath, and—” You cut yourself off with a pained hiss as his teeth dug into the upper curve of your breast. You couldn’t bring yourself to wonder whether or not it’d leave a mark. “And— Stop.”

This time, you were forceful enough for him to glance towards your face, his eyes just barely visibly through his disheveled hair. Talking felt like choking down gravel, but you managed. “We can’t,” you said, offering your best attempt at a sympathetic frown. “I’m pregnant, ‘toru.”

It was true, as little as you wanted Satoru to be the first person you told. You weren’t far enough along to be showing, but his gaze immediately fell to your stomach. You counted the seconds as he stared at you, the gears turning in his head. Finally, he pulled away, his expression taking on a dream-like quality.

“You’re so perfect,” he sighed, suddenly dazed. “My mama’s gonna be a real mommy.”

“Mhm.” You didn’t try to smile back. If you pushed your limits any further, the strain may’ve gotten to you before Satoru did. “So, you understand why you have to leave, don’t you?”

“Can’t do that, pretty girl.” He ducked lower, his hands shifting to your waist. You tried to sit up, and he let you, too preoccupied settling into the space between your open legs. “Someone’s gotta be there to watch you extra close, now.”

And yet, watching didn’t seem to be what he had in mind.

The heat of it struck you first; damp and smothering, like steam or humidity or the feeling of water in your lungs, drowning you from the inside out. He ate you out as messily as he’d kissed you; never content to be lapping at your entrance or suckling on your clit when he could be attempting to do both. His broad tongue drew aimless patterns over your cunt, fucking into your pussy with every other stroke while the bridge of his nose ground into your clit, leaving no part of you untainted, unscathed. You tried to ignore him and, when that failed, to pretend that it was Hiromi between your legs, but you couldn’t spin straw into gold. Your husband had always been lovingly playful in bed, prone to pressing open-mouthed kisses into the inside of your thighs, to drawing out the letters of his name into your clit as his long, talented fingers split you open. Satoru’s fingers were too busy groping at your hips to be good for anything else, and he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from pussy for much of anything, let alone something as unimportant as ‘care’ or ‘tenderness’. You could feel his teeth ghost over your skin, his saliva pooling at the apex of your thighs, and worst of all, you could feel yourself growing warmer, your core growing tighter, your self-control waning as you fought against the urge to buck into his mouth.

Your hands balled at the sheets underneath you, your eyes soon clenched shut in an effort to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening, that you weren’t here, that this wouldn’t end with you cumming into the mouth of the man who’d killed your husband, of the overgrown child who you’d once considered yourself responsible for. Tears burnt at the corners of your eyes, but if Satoru noticed your distress, he was determined to play obvious to the bitter end; only whining into your cunt as you clenched around his tongue. It was the reverberation that ultimately sealed your fate; as unintentional on his part as it was unwilling on yours. That was where your commonalities ended, though. While you sobbed and thrashed through your orgasm, Satoru basked in it, curling his tongue against the convulsing walls of your cunt, drinking down every moment of your agony.

By the time he pulled away, you were too spent to be relieved – cold exhaustion flooding into the gaps that reprieve should’ve filled. Even that was stripped away from you, eventually, with only the effort it took him to straighten his back, to spread your legs around his waist, to free his leaking cock from his jeans – a visibly damp spot now staining the dark material. You tried to scramble back, to roll over, but Satoru caught you by the hip with one hand while the other pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, the ghost of contact alone hot enough to burn. “W-Wait,” you tried, before things got as bad as they possibly could. “Satoru, the baby—”

“I know,” he cut in, flashing you a reassuring smile. “I’ll be careful. I promise, nothing’s gonna hurt you or my little brother ever again.”

You wanted to scream. You might’ve, if he hadn’t chosen that moment to push into you, only stopping when his hips pressed into yours and he couldn’t possibly make this any worse.

The physical sensation might’ve been bearable, on its own. You already knew you were never going to recover mentally, but Hiromi was thicker with a more pronounced curve, even if Satoru probably beat him for length by an inch or so. If it’d just been the physicality, the dizziness heat, the nauseating stretch from your cunt to your core, but you might’ve been able to deal with it, but Satoru was so damn loud – disassociating would’ve been too difficult to warrant the effort, if not out-right impossible. He whined as he rutted into you, slotting his just chest against yours and burying his face in your neck, his tongue running mindless over the side of your throat. “I—I thought about practicing,” he muttered, forcing himself to speak between raspy groans and hitched whimpers. “I tried to, because I knew you’d be s—so good at this, but I couldn’t do it, not if it wasn’t for you, or—” You felt him twitch inside of you, and everything seemed to turn to static. When you came back to yourself, he was still ranting, still rambling senseless into your jugular vein. “—I love you. You were always so pretty, and nice, and I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He repeated that same senseless mantra until the words began to slur and crack. You didn’t want to touch him, but his pelvic bone scraped over your clit and you lashed out on instinct – your fingers soon tangled in his hair, your nails biting into his scalp. Satoru’s whimpers were immediately replaced by full-bodied moans only slightly stifled by your skin. Numbly, you were aware that similar (albeit, much more pained) noises were falling past your own lips, that your pussy was soaking in the stimulation your conscious mind rejected, but you could only bring yourself to acknowledge what that meant as your second orgasm crested, as you let what you could only distantly acknowledge as pleasure wash over you. Satoru followed in-suit a few seconds later, making no attempt to pull out as something searing and thick and awful flooded into.

You supposed you should’ve been thankful that he couldn’t get you pregnant. Maybe you’d find the energy for gratitude, later on.

Satoru never really pulled away. He only drew back, allowing for enough distance been you and him to smile, to kiss your forehead – the same way you’d kissed his, when he shared his never-ending supply of candy or scraped his knee. He lingered there, nuzzling against you, one of his hands drifting to your stomach and settling there.

“I missed you,” he muttered, with a shallow sigh. And then, for the hundredth time, “I love you.”

Had you not been able to feel every last inch of his wide, fanged grin biting into you, you might’ve actually believed it was true.