#the manga arrived yesterday

[xsammei-her-belovedberyl]

I bought FGOフロムロストベルト4

just to see… ❤️

😍❤️❤️❤️ MY LOVE BERY !!

[meownotgood]

have u seen pastry chef aki yet bc 🥰 my beautiful talented husband

https://twitter.com/csm_cafe/status/1615637076124532736?s=46&t=7278VIYO-jKxawraW1BWtg

- 🍊

YES YES YES AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH

this is one of my favorite arts of him..... look at how handsome he is.... chef aki

[orcelito]

about ready to jump off the walls for this purchase

i have bought. the full trimax set.

[autism-corner]

<33

[ddarker-dreams]

Cherubim.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Implied trauma, Gojo and Geto are both weird + manipulative. Word count: 6k.

-Index-

March 18th, 2006. 

2:26 p.m.

-

Gojo Satoru has found himself embroiled in his greatest turmoil yet. 

Assassination attempts? That’s nothing, he’s waved those off since he was a kid. Jujutsu politics? The higher-ups can yap until they’re blue in the face; they’re all bark, no bite. Curses? Similarly inconsequential. No matter how much power they hold, they're reduced to speckled splatters the instant they cross his path. 

For most, experiencing one of these dilemmas would prove too overwhelming, much less all three. He isn’t like most, though. He’s strong. Incomprehensibly strong. He can weather any storm, shift the tides of any battle in his favor. Has this gone to his head? Absolutely. He can handle ‘too much.’ It’s ‘not enough’ that’s proving to be an issue. 

This is why he’s detailing his recent woes to an uninterested Ieri Shoko, who made the mistake of reading in the dormitory’s common area. 

The scene is as follows:

Satoru’s along the length of the couch, his long, lanky limbs dangling wherever they can. He lays his head against the armrest, snowy hair succumbing to gravity in an avalanche that frames his face. He uses his ability to keep his sunglasses from meeting the same fate. Behind the dark frames, his eyes narrow into a piercing stare. If the ceiling were sentient, it would’ve fled by now. Such is the potency of his miserable mood. 

Parallel to him sits Shoko, the fat of her cheek squished upward from resting on her fist for so long. Books, candy wrappers, and notes from last year’s curriculum yet to be thrown away litter the table’s surface. Suguru’s could put a calligraphist to shame, even if they were written in a Badtz-Maru pencil you won from a gachapon. Your notes stand out as well. They’re bright shades of your favorite colors, organized according to a system of your own devising. Occasionally, the handwriting shifts, taking on Suguru or Shoko’s likeness for trickier kanji. You doodle hearts of gratitude around the yomigana they include for good measure. 

(You complained that his handwriting was ‘indecipherable’ when he tried doing the same. Out of spite, he gave you the cold shoulder… for three minutes. He withers and wilts without your attention). 

He sighs and concludes his monologue. 

“So, that just about sums everything up. Well? What’s the prognosis, Doc?” 

“You’re in desperate need of more friends,” Shoko replies. Satoru lets out an unsatisfied grunt. “And you miss [First].” 

Satoru perks up at your mention, finally giving that poor ceiling a much-needed reprieve. He shuffles around until he’s facing Shoko. 

“But she just headed out yesterday.” 

“I know.” 

“That’d make me really weird and clingy, right?” 

“Glad you’re catching on.” 

While Satoru contemplates the previously unconsidered possibility of him being ‘really weird and clingy,’ Shoko reopens her manga. She’s of the mistaken belief that the issue has resolved itself. Unfortunately for her, the problem extends beyond Satoru’s insatiable hunger for you. The problem is Satoru himself. Until he’s running amuck elsewhere, there’ll be no solace. 

She commends herself for her patience. 

In typical Satoru fashion, he continues testing it. 

“When was the last time you updated your passport?” 

“I’m not flying to her home country with you,” Shoko shuts down what he thought was a brilliant plan. “It’s just two weeks. Wait it out.” 

“What if we fly first class?” 

“Gojo.” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s still too soon to meet her parents. It’s gotta happen eventually though, right?” 

Shoko doesn’t dignify this with a response. 

Satoru sinks into the cushions. Could there be anything worse than boredom? He has no missions lined up, you and Suguru are visiting family, and the first-years haven’t arrived yet. Pestering Utahime has lost its charm too. He could return home before the school year starts, but he’d rather have his fingers chopped off one by one than suffer that torture. 

“Hey, Shoko.” 

“Mm.” 

“Why aren’t you back home? I thought you got along with your parents.” 

“They’re both busy. I wouldn’t see them much.” 

Satoru doesn’t press the matter. 

It does intrigue him though — the relationship sorcerers have with their non-sorcerer families. Or, to be more specific, yours and Suguru’s familial dynamics intrigue him. Satoru can’t (and doesn’t bother trying) to care for the going-ons of anyone outside his small circle. This is more the hubris of a teenager who has been told he’s special his entire life than anything malicious. To Satoru, the world’s population might as well be stuck at three. 

Regardless, it’s an improvement.

Before meeting Suguru, those in his life consisted almost exclusively of suckups or stuckups. If he was unlucky, it’d be both, rolled into one terrible package. This was his reality. Jujutsu was his reality. He was the first to possess the Limitless and the Six Eyes in generations. The Gojo clan wouldn’t waste such an extraordinary opportunity. He was their pride and joy, personality aside. 

He was born to be the strongest. 

He can’t imagine any other life for himself. 

Then there’s you. 

He could see you leading a normal life. You wouldn’t be top of the class or a varsity athlete, but you’d be well-liked. Boys would nervously ask you out on dates and buy you roses with money they got from mowing lawns. You’d be the first one your friends would call when they experienced heartache. Maybe you’d go to college or land an entry-level job. Some co-worker with a decent sense of humor would win you over. Then you’d get married, rent a property, have a few kids… 

Satoru’s stomach twists. He grimaces, shifting his thoughts elsewhere. Namely, the question that’s bothered him for a while. 

Why did you become a jujutsu sorcerer? 

It was intentional. You chose to leave behind your home, your family. You knew the risks. How the body can break and ache in ways previously unrecorded. And what do you get in return for this thankless crusade? Sleepless nights where you tremble like a leaf beside Shoko? A nimbleness at dressing wounds that could only have come from years of practice? 

You’re open about everything until you aren’t. Fear, mortality, loss — when confronted by these unsightly truths, you retreat to someplace he can’t follow. 

Satoru can’t make sense of it. Neither can Suguru. Shoko says they shouldn’t press the matter. He wants to, though. He needs to know how you break. How else can he ensure that you never will? 

He thinks back to that humid August day. The binding vow eviscerated your insides, shards from fractured bones dug into your organs. Until that point in his life, Satoru prided himself on his immunity to fear. The pathogen never lasted long in his system. After all, fear is born from a lack of control. From having something to lose. If he couldn’t lose, what was there to be afraid of? 

It’s a question he’s been avoiding. 

(“If she dies,” he told Suguru, in a voice he barely recognized as his own, “They die too.”)

His mouth feels dry, his tongue heavy. He’ll drink that tea you’re fond of later to satiate his thirst. He wonders if you share its taste.

“What’re you reading, anyway?” he asks, hoping to take his mind elsewhere.

“Fruits Basket.” 

He laughs, incredulous. 

“Seriously? Didn’t take you for a shoujo type.” 

“I borrowed it from [First]. We’re doing a book exchange over break.” 

A book exchange… three words Satoru never thought would pique his curiosity. However, anything about you demands his undying attention. Even if it’s shoujo manga. Girls who read that genre do it to project onto the heroine, right? So the love interest must have appealed to you. What tropes do you like? Do you want a shy, sensitive soul who blushes and stutters in your presence? A misunderstood bad boy who’s only soft around you? The responsible student council president? 

Oh, he’ll have so much material to tease you with when you return. He can’t wait. 

“How do I enter this exclusive book club?” Satoru demands. 

“You don’t. I don’t trust your taste,” Shoko replies, much to his chagrin. “You can still read it, though. She has all of the volumes in her room.” 

… Your room? 

He grins from ear to ear.

Should he respect your privacy? Probably. Is he going to? Of course not. He never has, there’s no point in starting now. 

This trip of yours might yet redeem itself. 

-

Along the outskirts of Jujutsu High, Geto Suguru spots an odd woman. 

She’s wearing a baggy graphic tee, low-rise jeans, and gaudy bracelets on both arms. Her black hair is tossed up, thick strands sticking in every direction. Even from this distance, he can discern the silver glint of piercings that dot her ear like constellations. The stranger stands slouched, both her hands shoved into her pockets. For her to have gotten this far, she can’t be a civilian. Those unfamiliar with jujutsu can’t find this place. 

He stays still for a spell — watching and waiting. From this distance, she shouldn’t be able to sense his presence. It’s one of the few areas he excels at over Satoru. Satoru’s cursed energy is bright, blindingly so, a thunderous clap that can be heard for miles. Suguru prefers to keep his muted. It coils around his limbs like a serpent, never straying far. This is why you had no difficulty picking out Satoru’s stupefying presence on your first day, whereas he had to make himself known to you. 

Suguru’s lips quirk up. 

He was fated to meet you. 

“Hey! Kiddo!” A deep, somewhat raspy voice exclaims. He blinks rapidly, temporarily thrown off. “This ain’t an art gallery. What’s with the staring?” 

She noticed him? How? 

When the stranger starts slinking his way, he regains his composure. 

“I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable,” Suguru’s cadence flows smoother than a river. 

“Hah! ‘Uncomfortable?’ That’s a way of putting it,” she pokes the space beneath her emerald eyes twice. “Even now, I can feel ya picking me apart. Shit’s creepy.” 

His smile tightens. “I’ll be more mindful of my conduct in the future, then.” 

She waves him off. Her golden bracelets clink together as she does so, the sound grating his ears. 

“That’s a lie if I ever heard one. And I should know. Schemers excel at picking out their brothers in arms,” she juts her head up, giving the impression that she’s the one looking down on him, despite the slight height difference. 

“Anyhow, by the looks of it, you must be Sugu-kun.” 

… Did she just call him Sugu-kun? 

“What? Too soon* to be calling you that? Heh, heh…” 

Suguru’s smile tightens. “You can refer to me however you like, so long as I can return the favor.” 

She guffaws.

“Maaan, Goldie sure was gracious in her description of you,” the woman gives him a lopsided grin. “Name’s Akane. There — is the playing field leveled now?” 

“Ishimoto Akane?”

He doesn’t miss the way she winces as her surname is spoken aloud, rather pointedly at that. 

“Ah. S’pose I had that coming.” 

Suguru decides against prolonging her torment. He’s in a generous mood, it isn’t every day he has a chance to learn more about you. This is an opportunity he’ll take full advantage of. 

“And I presume 'Goldie' is [First]?” 

He makes a mental note to figure out the wordplay for your nickname later. 

“Full marks.”

Suguru hums, a sound indicating that he’s drifting deep into thought. 

You don’t mention your mentor often. When you do, it’s normally in the form of endearing (if not mildly concerning) anecdotes.

“She told me that natto is bits of caramel held together by melted marshmallows, like a Rice Krispy Treat. It… it was not like a Rice Krispy Treat…” 

“... For my twelfth birthday, she got me Pokemon Ruby. I remember crying because Roxeanne’s Nosepass took out my Torchic. My cursed energy spiked and the party had to end early…” 

“... Out of curiosity, I drank her stash of Georgia canned coffee. My heart rate was almost high enough to warrant a trip to the ER…” 

Getting anything else relating to her out of you was like trying to wring water from a rock. Suguru didn’t miss the wistful melancholy underpinning your stories. You recalled them with a far-off expression as if mourning that those days of whimsy were over. Initially, he considered it a consequence of growing up. Childhood idols rarely remain highly esteemed as the years pass and maturity accrues. 

His intuition argued that he should examine the issue closer.

(“I met her, y’know,” Satoru mentioned whilst he spun in a rolling chair ‘commandeered’ from Yaga. “Akane. Our girl’s mentor. Former mentor? Whatever the case is.” 

Suguru sat his pencil aside, any investment in his studies gone.

“When?” 

“Last March.” 

Suguru sighed. “And you didn’t bring this up earlier because…?” 

There’s a twinkle in his companion’s sunglasses-covered eyes.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Satoru shrugged. 

Liar, Suguru thought, unamused by Satoru’s faux nonchalance. He must’ve had his reasons for neglecting to mention it for so long. Suguru figured your impending trip home had something to do with Satoru’s ‘miraculously’ cured amnesia. 

“What? Don’t tell me you aren’t curious.”

The provocation failed to irk him. Instead, Suguru refocused the conversation.“Tell me your impression of her.”

Satoru stilled, threw his feet atop Suguru’s desk, and placed his hands on his neck. “About what you’d expect from a disgraced daughter of an influential clan. Bad-tempered, tattooed, pierced up… hah! Bet her old man would go into cardiac arrest if he saw her.” 

“Satoru,” he implored. 

“Fine, fine. So impatient,” The white-haired sorcerer complained. “I misread her. She got all mopey after she fessed up about Cursed Technique: Null. I wrote it off as envy. The student exceeding the master, or whatever.” 

Satoru remained silent for a moment. “Post Kaizu, though, I assume the feeling actually gnawing at her… ” 

Kaizu. 

Panicked phone calls. Satoru’s agitated exclamations. His horrified silence. Your breathing faded, theirs accelerated. You looked so small. So human. He scarcely believed the limp girl cradled in his arms just executed such a devastating maneuver. Your cursed energy had exceeded any output he’d felt from you before. It was too much, your body wasn’t ready to endure a spike like that. 

Suguru had never felt so distant from the title ‘strongest.’

At some point later on, in a hospital waiting room, Suguru posed a question. 

Satoru heard him yet offered no response.

“Who taught her how to do that?”

“... was guilt.”)

“You didn’t visit her.” 

Akane blinks. 

“Hah?” 

“You didn’t visit her,” Suguru repeats, his tone firmer. “[First]. Your student.” 

She exhales shakily. Suguru thinks she looks tired. 

“If you have something to say, just come out with it already.” 

He was prepared to wear her down for hours — this willing cooperation saves him time. Although, it doesn’t make navigating the volatile minefield that lies ahead any easier. He knows how to rein Satoru in when he’s going too far. He can fluster you without giving too much of himself away. After rescuing someone from a curse, he knows the exact pitch, timbre, and tempo necessary to pierce through their abject horror. He’s a virtuoso at playing people, a conductor hidden amidst the audience. 

Deceit. Misdirection. Coercion. 

His repertoire is expansive and ever-growing. 

From what he can see — what he can feel — the prodigal daughter before him boasts a similar discography. She returns his unflinching eye contact as if issuing a challenge. Daring him to use dubious methods that might work on anyone else. This obstinate resolve reminds him of you. Once you’ve determined your course, even he struggles to change the route.

He abandons all pretense. 

“You didn’t want her here,” he theorizes. Akane’s face reveals nothing. “You knew something like that was bound to happen.” 

Sorcerers aren’t only at war with curses. No, there’s an inner battle that must be fought as well. The recognition that the next assignment could be your last. And if it is, you won’t be commemorated by the masses; to them, you don’t exist. Your sacrifice will be known to a select few who mourn you, or  a few who don’t. Everything could go right. Everything could go wrong. Engaging in that high risk for such a low reward goes against one’s self-preservation instincts.

How each sorcerer handles this fight is unique to them. 

As for your strategy — you refuse to acknowledge this conflict exists. 

Paradoxically enough, that functions as your self-preservation. 

Akane smiles thinly. She’s almost his reflection, in that regard.

“Full marks.” 

-

Suguru idly observes as Satoru paces back and forth, his troubled figure illuminated by a row of vending machines. 

A nearby street lamp flickers. It’s late, but the local convenience stores glow with artificial light, tempting customers to come inside. Some are weary salarymen grabbing ready-made meals, others are middle schoolers clinking their change together, praying they can afford a sugary treat. The latest group cheers, indicating their triumph. 

The duo receives odd looks — thanks to their school uniforms, no doubt — not that they pay the judgment any mind. No one troubles them. Not even a wandering policeman, who, under normal circumstances, would scold minors out by themselves at night. 

Suguru theorizes that Satoru’s ominous aura is what subconsciously repels them. 

Earlier today, Suguru bid farewell to his parents and boarded a train for Tokyo. As nice as it was to spend time with his family, he’d been looking forward to reuniting with you and Satoru. He amassed quite the phone bill thanks to your frequent correspondence. Nonetheless, he carried the minor debt with pride; it’s a sign you often thought about him. He planned for Satoru to assume the debt by dangling the pictures you sent his way as ransom. 

His encounter with Ishimoto Akane grounded his soaring mood. This was made worse when he entered the dormitory, only to find a tight-lipped Shoko and agitated Satoru. 

Shoko remarked that unlike the two of them, she’d be handling things with ‘tact,’ and retired for the evening, not wanting to catch their ‘stupidity contagion.’ 

It’d been hours since then. That time stretch brought them closer to revealing the complete picture, but a few pieces remained missing or incomplete. 

The frenetic sorcerer stills and rummages around in his pocket.

Suguru takes the opportunity to break the silence. “I—” 

He cuts himself off as Satoru whips out a familiar-looking chapstick. The cutesy design befitting your aesthetic stands out like a sore thumb in Satoru’s large, calloused hands. 

“... Where did you get that?” 

“[First]’s room,” is Satoru’s response, spoken nonchalantly whilst applying it to his lips. “Why?” 

Suguru snorts. Sometimes Satoru’s ungodly strength blinds him to the fact that he’s still a teenage boy. 

“Won’t she notice it’s missing?” 

“I replaced it.” 

“Ah.”

“She has plenty more in the drawer beneath her vanity if you want one.” 

Suguru knows the exact spot Satoru’s referring to. They both helped you assemble it (Satoru got bored fifteen minutes in and fell asleep on your bed but still claims credit). 

After noting this suggestion, he asks, “Have you calmed down?” 

Satoru barks out a ‘hah!’ as if he’d just heard a hilarious joke. “Me? Shouldn’t I be askin’ you that?” 

Suguru massages his temples, sensing the looming headache that awaits him. “Satoru…” 

“We could follow her residuals, you know,” Satoru suggests. He tips his sunglasses down, revealing eyes that gleam with predatory intent. “With the Six Eyes, it’d be a walk in the park.” 

“And then what?” 

“Oh, you know, chat about the weather, latest political scandals, that sort of thing.” 

“You can’t strong-arm yourself through everything in life, Satoru,” Suguru chastises. 

Satoru opens and closes his lips. He folds his arms, scrunches his eyebrows together, and rapidly taps his foot. The shift puts Suguru at ease. Satoru adopts this countenance on the rare occurrence he’s faced with a formidable threat. The serious, almost somber visage speaks to his ironclad resolve. Suguru may have told his companion that he can’t strong-arm himself through everything, but that’s a half-truth; the Gojo clan’s pride can do whatever he pleases. 

It’s consideration of the aftermath that Suguru wishes to instill in his companion. Tempering the arrogance of a God is no easy feat. 

“... She isn’t going anywhere,” Satoru declares, as if any other outcome was blasphemous. 

“She isn’t,” Suguru agrees. Then, he lowers his voice, adding, “We can’t disregard what Ishimoto-san is getting at, though.” 

“Simple — all our girl needs is a good ol’ fashioned intervention.” 

“An ‘intervention,’” Suguru deadpans. “Didn’t you already try that?” 

Satoru smiles in a way Suguru can only describe as dopey, reminiscing on the night you got ‘mad at him for wanting you to be mad at him.’ That’s how Suguru interpreted the detailed account Satoru gave the next morning, anyway. 

(“I wish she would’ve cried, just a little bit; it would’ve made her look extra cute,” Satoru cooed, to which Suguru shot him an exasperated look. “Oh, don’t act so high and mighty. You’d make her cry just so you could wipe her tears away.”)

Suguru shakes his head. “Here’s what I think — the self-sacrifice in and of itself isn’t the problem. Well, the main problem. There has to be a reason, something personal… identifying that takes priority.” 

A gust rips through the narrow street, howling as it terrorizes store signs and doors with weak hinges. The two strongest sorcerers remain oblivious to the drift. What occupies their mind is greater than any force of nature, insignificant or otherwise. They have the means to challenge natural phenomena itself. And they would, should they deem it an obstacle to their goals. This single-minded determination is what elevates them beyond the rest. 

“I guess the old man has a soft spot for us after all,” Satoru says, referring to Yaga, Suguru guesses.

Breathlessly, he chuckles. “Maybe.” 

Studying Satoru from his peripherals, he silently mulls over the far likelier reality—  

—that Yaga understands Satoru’s potential for saving this world is matched only by his capacity to condemn it. 

-

From a young age, Ieri Shoko found irony everywhere she looked.

It’s prevalent in the medical field she wishes to pursue. When stabbed, it’s better to leave the knife in than immediately pull it out. For an immune system to better defend itself from a virus, it must first be exposed to it in trace amounts. If an appendage becomes too infected, removing that piece of the body is better than keeping it whole. It was you who pointed out this theme extends into the world of jujutsu. 

“You’d think fighting to survive a curse instead of defeating it would be an okay alternative, right?” You had said. “But really… that just means someone else gets to foot the bill. All ‘cause you cheaped out.” 

She regrets not asking you to elaborate. At the time, the observation felt so personal, so intimately interwoven with who you are, that she thought it best to leave it alone. 

Watching you now, lounging on the swing beside her, she’s determined not to repeat her previous mistake. 

“Tired?” 

“Well, yeah,” you laugh. It sounds off. “I wasn’t meant for long flights. It takes everything out of me, y’know?” 

Shoko unsuccessfully digs around her pocket for a lighter. The search ceases when she recalls its inopportune location — left behind in her dorm room in the rush to be the one who reaches you first. Not sure what else to do with her hands, she folds them onto her lap. Meanwhile, you pick at a stray thread on your jeans. 

“I didn’t mean from traveling,” she clarifies. 

“Hm?” 

“How many curses did you exorcise back home?” 

Your fingers go still.

“I dunno… a few?” You shrug, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “If I happen across them, I’m not gonna just let them run amuck. That’d be irresponsible.” 

Your nonchalance comes across as forced. You may be keeping your words lighthearted, but she can tell you’ve dialed up your senses, monitoring her closely. It reminds her of a cornered mouse. It’s then that any lingering doubt over her choices leading up to this moment dispels. Resolve strengthened, she swears to make as much progress as she possible before those two catch on. She felt a bit bad lying about your flight’s time, but felt the situation justified the call. 

“It feels different when they’re close to home, doesn’t it?” 

Shoko’s eyes scan over the lively park before them. There’s a group of children playing with one another, some scouring the grass for bugs and others playing tag. Their guardians watch from a distance, chatting amongst themselves, likely discussing the upcoming poor weather or latest neighborhood scandals. Young couples walk hand in hand along the pathways, cheeks flushed from the joy of experiencing their first love. 

“Encountering a curse is draining. Fighting them, even more so. But when they’re on a street you walk every day, or a few blocks over from your house, you can’t help but start thinking. ‘What if I hadn’t come this way? Would it have hurt people I know? People I love and care about?’”

Her eyes find yours. “‘What if it killed them?’”

You look like you’re going to be sick. 

She ignores how your expression contorts her stomach and continues. “Sorcerers are in the minority, it’s true. So… fighting to survive isn’t selfish. It’s strategic.”

In the distance, the rough silhouette of two individuals grows clearer. The spotlight she commandeered grows fainter with their every step. In what remains of the fading limelight, she considers you. The CC cream that conceals the worst of your exhaustion, how your pupils dilate from high caffeine intake, then your fingers. The keys that when steepled just so, open the future for others at the cost of permanently locking yours. 

She reaches over and gently squeezes your hand. 

“Remember — we won’t be much help to anyone if we’re six feet under. So let’s aim to stay above ground.” 

-

The evening sun sinks into the horizon, demanding acknowledgment in its final moments by dousing all in a fiery hue. 

Your uniform absorbs the brunt of this last stand. The dark fabric devours the waning sunlight, heating you from head to toe. It didn’t fully occur to you that you were back when you walked through the torii gates lining the mountainous path. Nor when you unpacked in your dorm, stuffing your passport away until your next break, where it’ll serve you faithfully again. 

Instead, it was the simple act of putting your uniform on again that made home seem far, far away. 

You’d gotten used to your clothes smelling like your mother’s preferred detergent. It’s a brand you couldn’t find in Japan, sold exclusively in your home country. You wondered what meal your parents were having when you straightened out your collar. If your neighbor ever fixed that rumble their old sedan huffed out as you slipped into your tights. Whether your grandpa knew you’d landed safely when you brushed lint off your skirt. 

The campus atmosphere is serene. Tengen’s barrier is a bulwark against curses, insulating you from any potential threats. Without this assurance, some part of you was always on the defensive, anticipating anything when you slept in your childhood bedroom. It siphoned away your vitality, just like Shoko pointed out. 

You sniffle and kick a rock aside. 

How does it always end up like this?

First Akane, now Shoko, you hug yourself. I just want to protect others. What’s so wrong with that? If I don’t, then who will?

You pause abruptly. 

When Akane began mentoring you, the world as you knew it changed. Suddenly, you were given knowledge no one else was privy to, for they lacked the tools to comprehend it. You’d seen those ‘creatures’, but it was Akane that explained their malevolent nature. What they could do, the pain they inflicted, how defenseless the population at large was against them. 

The shadow that this monstrous threat cast could never be outshone by light. The best you could do was create safe pockets the size of pins in the darkness. That was the extent of your hope, the most bitter pill you’ve ever swallowed.

The lingering specter of Shoko’s reassuring touch prickles along your hand. 

It’s easy to forget you’re not alone anymore after fighting by yourself for so long. 

-

Eventually, you happen upon a clearing near the school’s main grounds. 

The steep inclines surround a sizable outdoor track. This area is known colloquially as the school’s training grounds. You prefer to train in a more secluded, wooded area, but not everyone shares your enthusiasm for subtlety. Namely, the two prodigies who have turned the field into a colosseum that’d rival the battles of ancient Rome. 

You take a seat on the grassy hill and watch what unfolds. 

Your eyes can scarcely follow the blows Suguru and Satoru exchange. Their sparring sessions are unreal — blurring the very fabric of reality. Somehow, they manage all this without using cursed energy. The spectacle you’re witnessing is simply hand-to-hand combat. It’s like watching a film with skipping frames. In a matter of seconds, they can travel a hundred meters and return to their original position. Your brain struggles to process the stimuli your senses are feeding it. 

They were already strong when you met them. But now? The nomenclature doesn’t exist to properly classify them. 

And in the future… 

There’s no telling what highs they’ll reach or the ceilings they’ll shatter. 

Their light is the most dazzling you’ve ever seen.

Within a few minutes, they conclude their training session. Satoru instantly beelines toward you, whereas Suguru cycles through stretches. There’s not even a single drop of sweat on Satoru’s body as he plops to your right. He’s wearing his signature sunglasses, despite the night's looming shadow. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep or something?” Satoru asks. “It’s past your bedtime.”

You punch him lightly on the shoulder. He yelps out an exaggerated ‘ouch!’ rubbing the area to soothe the nonexistent wound. 

Suguru approaches at a far more leisurely pace, sending a wave that you return in kind. 

Satoru, not one to be forgotten, yells out, “Be careful, Suguru! She’s violent!” 

“Only against those who deserve it,” Suguru replies.

Fondness blossoms inside your chest as you laugh. You’d forgotten how simple life feels around them. It’s as if when the three of you are together, you’re swallowed by a pocket dimension, isolated from everyone and everything. Permanently inhabiting this utopia is a temptation. 

Satoru places his hands behind his head and lays onto the ground. “Here I am, potentially out of commission forever, without a single ounce of sympathy to show for it.” 

“We could always settle in court,” you offer. 

Suguru stands before you, hands on his hips. “Or he could finally figure out how to use reverse cursed technique.” 

At this, Satoru shoots back up, his sunglasses falling askew. “Hah? Last I recall, you gave yourself a headache giving it a go. At least I’m not that bad.” 

“Hurdles are necessary to improve. Without any, how do you know you’re truly making progress?” 

Satoru gives him a grossed-out look. “All this philosophizing is gonna turn your hair gray before you hit twenty.” 

“That’s rich, coming from the guy whose hair is already white,” You point out. “What’s that say about you?” 

Suguru muffles his laughter behind his hand. 

Satoru’s quick to overcome his incredulity. “It says that I’m going to spoil the next volume of Inuyasha. Sesshomaru—” 

You cover your ears and sprint off. “Can’t hear you, can’t hear you, can’t hear you…!” 

He chases after you, periodically shouting the names of the main characters right when you think he’s finished. You do your best to block out his voice, running like your life depends on it. He’s hot on your heels, cackling at your expense. After a stretch of silence, you uncover your ears, hesitantly turning around to check if he’s finished his torture. 

You meet Satoru’s gaze. His lips are parted, his eyebrows slightly raised. Your reflection in his dark lenses appears equally perplexed. He straightens his sunglasses and regards you with an unreadable expression. 

“... You’ve gotten faster.” 

The comment is so quiet, you’re unsure if you heard him correctly. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing,” he dismisses, waving you off. “You shoujo-loving types sure take this stuff seriously. It’s almost cultish.” 

“I don’t wanna hear that from the guy who references Digimon like it’s some sorta scripture!” 

“Honda Tohru is a lame heroine.” 

You audibly gasp. “Wh— you take that back!” 

And so it’s your turn to chase Satoru, who, for reasons unknown, is oddly knowledgeable regarding Fruits Basket. 

-

“Could you guys be honest with me about something?” 

“All depends.” 

“Of course.” 

Satoru and Suguru’s responses come out simultaneously, the contents offering little reassurance. You’re not sure what you expected. Nonetheless, you press past the gnawing discomfort, your conversation with Shoko a fresh memory. 

“Did Akane stop by while I was gone?” 

You scrutinize their countenances for involuntary reactions that might betray their inner thoughts. You begin with Satoru, who was in the middle of cleaning his sunglasses when you posed the question. His eyes, which normally brim with mischief, have an eerie calmness about them; like sheets of ice that were once choppy waters. He smiles softly and slips his lenses back into place, undoubtedly aware of the intent behind your stare. 

Then there’s Suguru. He hums, as if finding your inquiry unexpected and not an inevitable point of contention. He’s a more challenging puzzle to decipher than Satoru. With the latter, you can roughly gauge the greater picture, blurry and incomplete as it may be. Suguru, on the other hand, hasn’t given you enough pieces to attempt a solution. 

Satoru continues mulling over your question while Suguru responds, “Is that what’s been worrying you lately?” 

So they picked up on it too, you think. 

Frowning, you shift in your seat. Blades of grass tickle your thighs and you push your skirt down. 

“Er… not that, specifically,” you admit. You feel like you’re surrounded by walls that know just how far to close in to give the impression you might be crushed. “I just… I’ve been thinking. About why I’m here— what I’ll go on to do. And, well…” 

Much to their surprise, you stand, squeeze your eyes shut, and bow ninety degrees. 

“For so long, I’ve carried this burden. The truth is, when I first learned about Null, I was relieved. I’d always have something to rely on in the worst-case scenario. But at the same time… that meant not using it could also be a mistake. You have no idea how much that scared me.” 

You curl your hands up into fists. “I don’t want to think that way anymore. I see it now — have for a while, actually — strength I couldn’t even imagine before. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m in your care. If it’s alright, I want to rely on others, starting with you two.” 

Your heart pounds wildly in the silence that follows. 

Maybe this is selfish too, you think. But I don’t want to be alone anymore. 

You hear Suguru speak your name. It isn’t until he repeats it, his tone kind yet firm, that you straighten yourself and face him. 

Satoru stands further back, scratching his neck. Much to your confusion, a red flush has risen to his cheeks, extending up to his ears. Suguru corrects your staring by taking your face in his hands and redirecting your attention to him. Warmth envelops you. Your faces are inches apart, but somehow, the distance feels nonexistent, like he’s peering into your mind unhindered. 

“Surely, you can dream bigger than that,” Suguru chastises.

“... Eh?” 

“Do you think so little of us?” Satoru grumbles. It almost sounds like he’s pouting. Was he not listening to anything you just said? The sincerity behind your every word? Why are they both acting like you insulted them? 

“Eh?!” 

“I’m glad you’ve come to this realization, but… you don’t have to rely on anyone else. Just us,” Suguru takes a step back, though he keeps one hand cupping your cheek. You feel lightheaded. “After all…” 

“... We’re the strongest.” 

notes:

*this pun actually works decently in english ?? but akane is making a reference to how suguru sounds phonetically similar to すぐ, or sugu, which means 'soon.'

[ccraccz]

Hello! I'm a new follower of yours~ I may not know how much are you in the manga, so this might be a lil spoiler for you (sorry). Suo actually knows the language of flowers! Maybe this could be a req of him courting fem!reader owo

Have a nice day!

SO CUTTEE!! THANK YOU FOR BOTH THE FOLLOW AND THE REQUEST!!

Flowers for you

Suo x Fem!Reader

TW: assault, reader being used as a hostage, implied bullying? (PLease tell me if I missed a TW!!)

The first time it happens is on a random Monday. A bouquet of different colored camelias being given to you by Suo, a sly smile and unearthly attractive smile on his face as he hands them over. His uncovered eye squinting as he watches you blush at the situation.

"For you, my lady," he says, confirming the main question that was swimming in your brain.

"But... Why?" You ask, genuinely wondering about the reason of the sudden gift. Suo chuckles as you grab the flowers in your hands and hold them closer. "Well..." He starts, turning to walk beside you, hands behind his back as usual, he looks at forward, ignoring your eyes that were intensely looking at him. "They reminded me of you, and there was a special on them, so I decided to try and make your day start in a good way."

That was a lie. Well, part of it was a lie. The beautiful, multicolored camelias did remind him of you, but the bouquet was going to be a lot more expensive if he wasn't recognized by the flower shop owner for saving his daughter from some perverted gang members. Not only was the bouquet free as a payback for saving his daughter, but as a thanks for helping around the town.

"Well then..." You pout, looking away as you arrive at the bridge that connects you to the gates of your school. You genuinely didn't want to leave him there, but you had cleaning duty to go to and if you're one minute late, your class would chew you up, especially now that you had a bouquet of flowers in your hands.

That day you started your day with a smile, and ended it with that same smile.

Suo was right, these flowers did make your day start, and stay, a good way.

The second time was the day after he, and his group, fought a group of drunken, old, perverts decided to take you and your girlfriends from your class as hostages. The glare that Suo sported that day before he quickly beat up the guys that were between him and the guy holding you was still burned into the front of your memories.

His eye seemed to glow under the street lights of the town, movements swifter than a cat but stronger than a bear. The drunken man holding you faltered at the sight of his men being beaten down, quickly seeing the disadvantage he's at. Due to that, he quickly pushes you away, having you land harshly on the ground and enraging Suo further.

After the fight, Suo was silent, too silent for your comfort as he walked you home. His arms weren't behind him, now one was wrapped around your waist and the other in his pocket.

The day after, there were flowers on your door step. Another bouquet and a plush of a fluffy puppy holding it.

The flowers were in a beautiful arrangement of white gardenias, daffodils, primrose primulas, and white heather flowers, a red ribbon tied around the bottom of the stems to keep them together. Under the plush, there is a note from Suo.

His hand writing is gorgeous, letters smooth and readable, sentences arranged in such grace it was shocking to think that this was written by a teenager in a delinquent school.

The letter said: Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you well and recovered from what happened yesterday night. I can only imagine how hollow you might feel...

And the rest was history, as tears bubbled up in your eyes and dribbled down your cheeks, the flowers tight in your embrace as your tears soaked into the paper and the top of the plush.

The third and last time was at the end of the day, two months after the incident, and a week before your birthday. You had been talking to some girls, who were gushing and blushing about their crushes while you stayed quiet. Walking out of the school and over the bridge, you see him.

Suo was standing at the other end of the bridge, another bouquet in his hand, a small gift box in his other hand. You paused as the girls beside you start fawning over Suo, talking about how attractive he is, and wondering who those flowers were for, and what about that box?

You were internally sweating, starting to walk behind the girls again, who were giggling and bumping into each other before you.

"So?" One of the prettier girls walks forward, having the guts to confront the delinquent. "Is that for me?" she asks, bottom lip bitten seductively.

Suo smiles at her, "Definitely..." He pauses and looks around the group. "Not," his smile drops before he walks forward and breaks apart the group, until he was in front of you.

"[Name]?" Suo smiles, eye closing with a light blush on his face.

He looked ethereal, better than any mythical, historical, or fictional character you've ever seen in your life. The sun was the perfect shade, hitting his face in every attractive way it could.

"I'm here to give you these," He speaks, his voice soft and nearly musical. He holds out the flowers towards you to take as your cheeks flush a beautiful pink as the situation registers in your mind.

"For me?" You whisper in shock.

"Yes," He nods "for you gorgeous."

In her hands was a large bouquet, filled with white gardenias, red roses, white camelias, baby's breath, and a multitude of gloxinias. "Those white gardenias represent your purity and how lovely you are, the roses represent my love for you, the white camelias describe how adorable and perfect you are, the baby's breath are a symbol of-"

You cut him off, putting the flowers into one arm as you grab him by the cheek and slot your lips onto his.

The show of affection makes the girls around swear and leave, while, somewhere in the bushes, there is a sensor going off, smoking even.

That wasn't the last time he brought you flowers, and it definitely was not the last time he described them, since every time he did, it would lead to something more.

[firstdivisiongirl]

Chifuyu x Reader: Polka Dot Wrapping Paper

Chifuyu was a hopeless romantic which meant everything he did seemed to come out of a shōjo manga.  He knew you were one too, so every year for your birthday he tried to get you something amazing and super cheesy.  But you loved it every year.  You two fell in love because you were both hopeless romantics.  But as hopeless romantics, there were high expectations for birthdays and Chifuyu was determined to make this year the best one yet.

Chifuyu had called you yesterday to tell you to meet him at his apartment.  When you got there, mom answered the door.  She said he wasn’t there but he asked her to give you his blue polka dot wrapped box.  You opened it and there was a little handwritten note that said find our biggest cheerleader.  You knew exactly who that was: Baji.

You walked up to the fifth floor.  This wasn’t an unusual trip for you, since you spent a lot of time with Baji as the three of you hung out together a lot.  He was standing outside his door, so obviously, he knew this was coming.  “Here,” he said handing you the polka dot wrapped box, “I don’t know what he’s got planned for you, but he put a lot of work into it.  I can tell you that much.”  The whole day you did this.  You went from one place to another finding more and more polka dot wrapped boxes with little clues inside of them.

Eventually, after going from the park where he confessed to you his feelings, you found another more box.  The note said “Go to the place where we first met”.  That was an easy one: the manga shop right by the train station.  You arrived at the store.  There were three tables in the front covered with novels but you knew Chifuyu wouldn’t just be hanging out in the front waiting.  No, he was making you hunt.  You walked up and down every aisle of books.  Once you reach the manga section in the back of the store is when you see it.  Another blue polka dot wrapped box.  When you opened it, the note said simply, turn around.  When you turned around, Chifuyu was standing there, wearing a polka dot shirt.  “Sorry,” he said rubbing the back of his neck, “I got a little carried away with the scavenger hunt.  But I promise this is the last box.  Happy Birthday,”  He handed you the last box.  It was a lot smaller than all the others, but still wrapped in the same paper.  You opened this box but what was inside made you smile.  It was the rose gold heart necklace you loved when the two of you went to the festival but you couldn’t bring yourself to buy and a black cat keychain that matched the one he carried around.  “Chifuyu,” you said looking up at him, “I love it.”

“Anything for your birthday,” he replied, pulling you into a hug and kissing your temple, “let me help you put your necklace on.”  He put your necklace on you and it was so pretty.  He grabbed your hand and rushed out of the store so he could spend the rest of the day together.  Maybe there was some truth to girls loving polka dots and surprises.  You did at least.

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

[striveattemptfail]

maybe it's a little too early (to know if this is gonna work) | Logan Howlett/Wade Wilson, 5.2k, M

@poolverine-week: Day 6 – Sharing Clothes

Summary: Five times Wade steals wears Logan's clothes, and one time Logan wears Wade's suit. Rated for allusions to sex, but nothing explicit. Takes place some time after the movie’s events; assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. Read on Ao3

A/N: Thank you to B @broosepayne for helping out with random details + thank you to @fuckselfloveihatemyself for suggesting "impersonation" for the final scene. Shout out to the Manga Hoes server for listening to me bitch about finishing this fic lol. Un-beta'd and I apologize /o\ Title from You Look Good In My Shirt by Keith Urban—just be grateful I didn't give this fic the exact same name lmaooo

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Nothing / Wearing Wade’s Clothes ]

The first morning he wakes up in Wade’s timeline—his new universe—Logan has on nothing but a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of highlighter pink Hello Kitty boxers. He desperately needs something to wear aside from what are basically undergarments because he came into this world with nothing but his X-Men suit.

Or what’s left of it anyway.

Which is why, once he finally gets up from the pull-out bed, he sees Wade trying on the jacket that the TVA gave him after they destroyed the Time Ripper. Wade is in front of the only full-size mirror in the apartment, twisting his body every which way to inspect the jacket.

Then, he catches Logan’s reflection in the mirror.

“Morning, peanut!” he greets, turning around to face him with a smile. “I’m trying this on to see how it fits on me.”

“Uh, yeah. I see that,” Logan says with brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I was thinking about grabbing you some clothes but need a reference for your size.”

“Bub, that jacket is too big even for me.”

“...okay, yeah,” Wade eventually concedes, “but it’s the only thing you own that isn’t shredded to pieces from the Time Ripper.”

Unfortunately, the moron has a point. As it is, the boxers Wade loaned him are a bit tight on his waist, and the collar of the shirt is snug on his neck, but it’s not like Logan’s in any position to complain.

“I have to swing by Target to grab supplies for Dogpool anyway,” Wade continues before making kissy faces at the dog in question. “We need to get you some treats, huh, little missy? Yeah! And then we’ll get honey badger some clothes that actually fit him!”

And, well, it’s not like Logan is keen on stepping outside of this apartment in the brightest colour he’s ever worn in his over 200-year existence. It’s also not like he even has the funds to buy himself a hotdog from the street vendor around the corner, much less purchase anything for a new wardrobe. So if Wade wants to go out and buy some clothes for him, Logan isn’t going to stop him.

He grunts his assent as he makes his way to the kitchen, muttering a gruff Fine as he starts on a cup of coffee.

Later, when Wade leaves for Target, Logan grabs the now tossed aside TVA jacket.

If he happens to take a sniff of it once Wade’s out the door (inhaling the scent of cloyingly sweet body wash, hot sauce, and something Logan is fast recognizing as Wade), it’s simply because he wants to know whether it already stinks after yesterday’s events.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: One Load of Staples ]

Luckily for Logan, Peter and Dopinder volunteered to help Wade clothes shop when he went to Target. Apparently, Wade wanted to buy all sorts of brightly coloured cutesy shit—like much of his own clothing, allegedly so the two of them could match—but Peter and Dopinder manage to rein him in and grab a few staples. T-shirts, jeans, sweatpants, boxers, socks, and a pair of shoes that’ll fall apart in about a month if Logan has to guess.

It’s enough for him to survive on until he can buy more clothes, and enough to produce a load of laundry once the day arrives. Luckily, the apartment has a washer-dryer combo in the unit, so he finishes the single, meagre load of clothes he owns in no time. He’s bringing them to the bedroom to put away when he finds Wade already inside, standing there in nothing but the smallest pair of tighty-whities Logan’s ever seen on a man.

“What the fuck,” is all he can say.

“Hey, honey badger!” Wade greets, normal as ever, as if he’s not exposing miles of skin and taut muscle that Logan would love to—

He messily dumps his clothes onto the bed, scowling at Wade.

“Why the fuck are you naked?” he demands.

“Oh, please, I’m hiding all the goods,” Wade brushes him off. He turns back to the heap of clothes on the hamper, presumably to find something that doesn’t smell like wet dog or weeks old nastiness.

Shit. The damn briefs aren’t even large enough to completely cover Wade’s ass, and Logan can see a hint of cheeks peeking through.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Logan rolls his eyes, hoping that his frown hides the conflict inside him.

With a smirk that can only spell trouble, Wade faces him again to thumb at the waistband of his underwear. “Would you rather I take them off?”

Logan snarls, averting his gaze to the small mound of clothes he has to put away. He angrily starts folding things, breath coming out in huffs that he hopes convey annoyance.

“Jeez, who pissed in your coffee this morning, kitty cat?” Wade complains, letting go of the waistband. “It’s not like I’m rubbing one out in front of you.”

“Shut the fuck up, bub,” Logan spits, throwing down another folded shirt.

The problem—like most things—is because of Wade.

It’s hard enough to share any amount of space with him, much less sleep in the same bed together every night, and Logan’s only a man. He might be too proud to admit it out loud (especially to a blabber mouth like Wade), but god fucking damnit somehow the fucker’s gotten under his skin. He makes Logan crave for more than innocently spooning in the early hours of the morning, want more than stolen glances when he thinks Wade isn’t looking.

It doesn’t help that Wade flirts with him constantly. People used to chastise Logan for how aggressively he pursued Jean back in the day. Now, he knows it’s nothing compared to the constant boner Wade has towards anything that speaks to him.

Logan needs to stop this train of thought—thinking about Wade’s boner is only going encourage his own.

“So, why are you naked?” he asks, probably angrier than acceptable for a conversation like this but, fuck, does Wade bring out the asshole in him.

“Technically, I’m not—”

“Fine, almost naked, you annoying prick.”

He looks up to find Wade with narrowed eyes, shooting him a dubious look that can only say, Are you serious?

“Obviooouslyyy,” he drawls out, rifling through the hamper again, “I thought I had more clothes left.”

Logan looks at the mountain Wade’s digging through. “Wait, you’re completely out of clean clothes? How the fuck did that happen?”

“I don’t know!” Wade throws his hands up in exasperation. “Ask the author!”

“I have no idea what that means,” he admits. “Anyway, why are you only in underwear?”

“What? You want me to steal some of Blind Al’s shit?” Wade pauses then, clearly mulling it over. “Actually, now that I think about it, her tracksuits would look great on me. They’d fit like baby clothes on a high schooler but it could be like a Y2K revival. Juicy Couture à la Wade. I’d smell like mothballs and old lady all day but it’d be worth it, I think!” He ends the rambling with a toothy grin.

Logan doesn’t dignify that with a response. He scrubs a hand over his face with a sigh.

“Just... put on some damn clothes, bub.”

“Fine.”

Wade—probably in an attempt to piss him the fuck off, as usual—stares at him with a piercing gaze, maintaining eye contact with Logan as he grabs a white t-shirt from the folded pile and slides it on.

Logan just glares at him, jaw clenching tight.

The worst part is that he’s not even mad that Wade’s grabbing shit that he just folded. For some fucking reason, there’s a small but very loud part of Logan deeply satisfied to see Wade in his clothes again. He hasn’t worn anything of Logan’s since trying on the TVA jacket that first day home, but seeing him in one of Logan’s tees is apparently doing something for him.

Wade spins in place, and Logan notices that the hem of the t-shirt barely covers Wade’s crotch, skims the peak of Wade’s pert ass. Once he faces Logan again, he pinches the sides of the shirt like he’s holding a skirt, dipping into a small curtsy.

“Is that better, oh, prudent majesty?” he taunts.

Logan finally snaps.

Before he’s even conscious of it, he’s striding over to where Wade is still staring at him, his expression turning confused though still playful.

“Woah, big boy, I didn’t think you’d be that pissed—”

Logan grabs his face and cuts him off with a kiss, Wade making a surprised noise against his mouth before finally kissing back. Even though Logan is leading, Wade still gives as good as gets, his tongue darting into the cavern of Logan’s mouth when he gasps for air. He’s not sure how long they suck face for, but when Logan finally pulls away, a satisfied noise rumbles through his chest at Wade’s stunned but amused face.

“Finally got you to shut up,” Logan teases, words coming out shallow and thin.

“Oh, it’ll take a lot more than that, old man,” Wade quips back, and another purr builds in Logan’s chest when he hears the gravel in Wade’s voice. Wade throws his arms over Logan’s shoulders and crashes their lips together again.

Neither of their laundry gets finished for a long while after that, both of them too caught up in seeking pleasure from each other. Most of Logan’s freshly laundered clothes lie wrinkled on the bed for hours until he remembers to put them away. Wade doesn’t even start on his own laundry until Logan tells him that Althea would definitely kick his ass if he wore her stuff.

But he continues wearing Logan’s shirt until his own clothes are finally clean, so Logan can’t complain at all.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Half Complete + A New Suit ]

They’re suiting up for an X-Men mission when Wade snatches the Wolverine cowl before Logan can put it on. He’s still in the middle of zipping up when he spots Wade grabbing it out of the corner of his eye, and he doesn’t even need to turn around to know that the dipshit’s already wearing it.

“Give it back,” he says absentmindedly, buckling in the last straps of his suit.

He turns around and shoots Wade a flat look, correct in his assumption that Wade put it on. Typical Wade, he’s wearing his Deadpool mask underneath the Wolverine cowl.

“How do I look?” Wade asks, voice lilting with anticipation.

He looks like someone threw up primary colours on his head and decided to call it a mask.

“You look like someone threw up primary colours on your head and decided to call it a mask.”

Wade gasps, clearly offended. “Rude!”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Just hand me my fuckin’ cowl, bub.”

“Mmmmm, no.”

He never makes shit easy. Logan can only sigh.

“Wade, we gotta leave for the mission brief,” Logan reminds him. They’re about to leave on time for once, and that never happens. “Gimme my goddamn cowl.”

Wade ignores him, as he often does, sauntering over to Logan with a sway in his hips, and Logan quirks a brow at him. He knows what that walk means, and suddenly heading to the X-Mansion for a mission is becoming the last thing on his mind.

Wade drapes his arms over Logan’s shoulders, and Logan automatically places his hands on Wade’s hips. Even beneath both masks, Logan can tell that Wade is waggling his non-existent eyebrows at him once they’re pressed close together. “Wanna inspect the wind resistance on these blowjob handles yourself, peanut?”

Logan snorts. “No, because I don’t wanna see my own mask sucking my dick.”

“Aww,” Wade whines, and Logan can hear the pout in his voice even if he can’t see it, “you’re no fun!”

“‘Sides,” Logan murmurs in his ear, low and sultry, as he pulls Wade closer, “I like seeing your face when we’re together, bub.”

He moves a hand from Wade’s waist to slightly lift his Deadpool mask at the collar. He then ducks his face into the curve where Wade’s neck meets shoulder, mouthing at the now exposed skin there. He smirks when he feels the catch in Wade’s throat.

“I thought we had to leave for the mission brief?” Wade mocks, but it comes out breathy and very pleased by the turn of events.

Logan hums mischievously, nipping at Wade’s neck. “Don’t give a shit anymore.”

“Cool cool cool,” Wade babbles, body pressing against Logan’s, all hot and eager. “I just—oh, fuck, honey badger—I was just thinking—”

“If yer thinking, then I ain’t doin’ this right,” he grumbles, words starting to slur together because there’s something else he’d much rather be doing with his mouth. The hand he still has on Wade’s waist travels to his crotch. Wade bucks his hips into Logan’s open palm with a husky groan, already half-hard.

“You’re doing everything so, so right,” Wade gasps, hips rutting into his grip. “It’s just—ngh—you better be the one taking off this suit, because I did not spend five whole minutes and half a thing of baby powder squeezing my ass into it just to—oh, shit!—strip it off again.”

With a final lick to his pulse point, Logan pulls away just enough to look at Wade. He smirks at the way Wade is panting, puffs of breath hitting his face in needy bursts despite the fabric covering Wade’s mouth.

“I gotta take off your clothes?” he confirms. Wade nods jerkily. “S’not a problem with me.”

And he drops to his knees, unbuckling Wade’s utility belt to do just that.

They do eventually get to the X-Mansion—just 30 minutes late, and they completely miss the briefing. Colossus looks at both of them in disappointment when he relays the abridged version of the mission objectives while they fly to their destination on the X-Jet. Frankly, Logan only half listens to the giant, completely unapologetic in his lack of focus. Being distracted is well worth it as he mulls over the events of the past hour.

Because Logan discovers that, while he might not get off on seeing his own cowl blowing him, he doesn’t mind when he’s on his knees looking up to see it thrown back in pleasure.

At least as long as Wade’s the one wearing it.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Signature Items Acquired ]

The next time they leave together, it’s to meet Vanessa and Dermot for bowling. Logan’s ready before Wade is, waiting in the living room because apparently how long it takes Wade to decide on an outfit completely depends on how he’s feeling.

Thankfully, today isn’t too awful. He’d only worn the Deadpool mask in the morning because he, quote, “felt like skewered chicken intestines,” and nearly cancelled on bowling altogether. But after an orgasm from Logan and cuddling from Mary Puppins, his mood had turned around.

All of which means that Wade is now in a mad dash pulling an outfit together. Logan knows better than to try and help him or force him to hurry up, so he’s left on the couch quietly grumbling to Mary about how he thinks Wade looks good in basically everything he wears.

He’s proven absolutely right when Wade finally steps out of the bedroom. Logan barely registers the full outfit because he’s completely focused on one item.

“How do I look?” Wade asks with a sly grin, walking over to the mirror to inspect himself. He twirls in front of his reflection while smoothing down the leather of the jacket he’s wearing.

Logan’s jacket.

He’s unable to put words together with the way his brain is currently short-circuiting. He grunts in response anyway, knowing that Wade will keep talking even if he doesn’t reply verbally.

He’s proven right yet again because Wade continues without missing a beat. “You think I should switch styles? Give yours back and get my own? Jackets aren’t really my thing though... Oh! What if I got a cape instead? It’d help for ‘no capes’ AUs to actually shed a cape, huh? Has there ever been a DP with a cape? I don’t remember seeing one when we fought the Corps.”

He hums a contemplative sound as Logan stands up from the couch, making his way over to Wade.

“Maybe I need to test trial this,” he continues to ramble, “maybe I can borrow Cable’s shawl-cape thing!”

Even Logan is surprised when he immediately interrupts Wade’s babbling with a stern: “No.”

Wade’s eyes snap to his, confused by the sudden harshness and increased volume in his tone. He makes a questioning noise and shoots Logan a displeased look.

Remembering that Wade will only ramp up how annoying he is if Logan bosses him around, he shakes his head and tries again. “I mean, just—you can, uh, keep mine.”

He clears his throat, eyes darting away to take in how the jacket fits on Wade. It’s a little loose on him, a little too broad because Logan’s chest is a bit wider than his, but it sits well on his frame nonetheless. After awkwardly patting Wade on the shoulder, Logan’s hand slides to Wade’s bicep, then down to cuff where Logan thumbs at the leather there. His fingers bump Wade’s hand and he feels electrified by the touch.

When their eyes meet again, Logan’s relieved to find Wade’s face as red as his own cheeks feel. He’s not entirely sure who leans in first but their lips meet halfway. The kiss isn’t demanding or dirty, neither of them trying to turn it into something that would lead to sex for once. It’s different from when they usually make out, just soft and lingering, and Wade gasps when Logan’s tongue gently licks at the seam of his lips.

At some point, they wrap their arms around each other, because when they finally part for air Wade’s cupping Logan’s jaw and his hands are on the small of Wade’s back.

He eventually grumbles out, “Keep it, it suits you.”

“Oh.”

It takes a moment for Wade to shake the dazed look off his face, but he recovers by flashing Logan a knowing grin. Logan rolls his eyes fondly.

Of course, the little shit did it on purpose. He should’ve known the moment Wade stepped out with that giant smile.

Afterwards, when they finally meet with Vanessa and Dermot at the bowling alley, Vanessa’s smirk and raised eyebrow are well worth it because Wade keeps the jacket on.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Full Closet ]

Logan’s been gone for almost a month because of an extended X-Men mission. Between stakeouts, recon, strategizing, and actually nabbing the bad guy, it’s the longest he’s been away since Wade and Althea’s apartment became his home.

He walks in and unceremoniously dumps his duffle bag and the rest of shit by his shoes, throwing his keys on the sidetable by the door. Despite it being well into the afternoon, the apartment is surprisingly quiet. He figures Althea is out for “bingo” (likely a coke exchange) but Wade and Mary Puppins’ lack of noise makes him suspicious.

Until he hears the snoring.

He pads over to the pull-out bed to find Wade and Mary napping together. Wade’s curled around her, snoring with his face buried in her very sparse amount of fur, and Mary’s tongue sticks out as she huffs out quiet, little snuffles of her own.

But what catches Logan’s attention is Wade wearing one of his flannels.

It’s one of the thickest he owns, made for colder weather and blistery autumn breezes, a dusty yellow and blue with snap buttons. It’s large on him—like everything else Logan owns whenever Wade wears his clothes—but this particular flannel is loose on Logan, so the fabric almost drowns Wade in a pattern of faded checks.

And like every time the moron steals his crap to wear, Logan’s stomach flips in a way he can no longer ignore.

He’s not sure if they’re exclusive or not. They fall into bed together as easily as they fight side-by-side on missions. But it’s impossible for Logan to tell if Wade is serious about half the flirtations streaming out of his mouth when the idiot’s easy affection gets directed at anyone that looks at him twice.

And as much as he’s loathe to admit it, Logan wants so much more than that. He wants Wade’s lingering looks to mean something other than platonic nothings. He wants the softer kisses they share to be more than a break from sex. He wants Wade to need him the way Logan needs him. Hell, he wants Wade to annoy him in ways that Wade would never bother anyone else, because at least then Logan would know that he means something different to the motherfucker, something more than a roommate he hooks up with.

He wants just Wade, all of him, full stop.

He gingerly sits on the mattress, trying not to jostle the two napping Deadpools too much with his weight, and he reaches over to gently stroke Wade’s cheek with a thumb. Feeling emboldened when Wade doesn’t stir, he leans down to press his lips onto Wade’s forehead.

“Well, g’morning to y’too, honey badger,” Wade slurs at him, voice thick with sleep.

Logan abruptly jerks away, eyes wide, and the movement is enough to jostle Mary Puppins from her slumber. She hops off to nap in her own bed after a grumpy growl, leaving Wade alone on the mattress. He attempts to swallow the sudden lump in his throat before clearing it with a cough.

“S’four in the afternoon,” Logan mumbles. Pinching his lips into a flat line, he awkwardly sits next to Wade rustling around in the sheets. His eyes catch the flannel falling open to reveal that Wade is also wearing one of his tank tops.

Logan takes a deep, stuttering breath.

Eyes still closed, Wade blindly flaps his hand around until finding purchase on Logan’s shirt. He tugs Logan back down, and Logan curls over to kiss him softly.

“Welcome home, peanut,” Wade breathes onto his lips. “Missed you.”

He touches his nose to Wade’s. “Missed ya too, bub.”

Wade’s face splits into a slow, easy grin, pulling Logan into laying down. Logan follows him without a thought, gathering Wade into his arms.

“You’re wearin’ my clothes again,” he whispers.

Wade hums, nuzzling into his chest. “S’cold, and it smells like you.”

A pleased purr escapes Logan before he has a chance to stop it, and Wade giggles at him, kissing his collarbone before falling right back to sleep.

They don’t talk about what they are after that, but it’s at that moment when Logan finally realizes that maybe, somehow, Wade feels the same way about him too.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Wearing Wade’s Clothes (Again) ]

The TVA brings them in because they need help with some lady going after Deadpool variants. It would be a fruitless endeavour since Deadpools can’t die (well, except Nicepool) if it weren’t for the fact that the fucker apparently stole a weapon that disintegrates things to oblivion.

“Shouldn’t the law of physics stop that from happening?” Wade asks, gesturing at the screen when B-15 presents the mission to them. “‘Matter can’t be created or destroyed’ or something like that?”

“That’s energy, idiot,” Logan corrects him.

Wade just shrugs. “Hey, don’t blame me for failing physics twice!”

He turns to Wade with a confused grimace. “Who else would I blame then?”

“The teachers, duh!”

“Anyway,” B-15 interrupts, hitting a button to show another slide, “this variant’s got a fascination for destroying the indestructible, but she’s going after Deadpools because she has tritanopia, or blue-yellow colour blindness. She can see shades of red the easiest, hence, sticking with Deadpools as her target.”

“That’s so stupid,” Wade says and Logan can only agree. “There are, like, dozens immortal superheroes in red and she chooses li’l ole me? Seems like the writer copping out of coming up with a better plot, I-M-O.”

“We also believe Mary was double-crossed by the Deadpool in her timeline, giving further motive to go after his variants.”

“Hmph! Now isn’t that just convenient?” He crosses his arms. “Wait, ‘Mary’?”

“Yes.” B-15 shows another slide, this one a close-up of the woman—Mary’s—face. “She’s a Typhoid Mary variant. Have either of you encountered her before?”

“Not in my world,” Logan answers.

“I admittedly did not keep up with Netflix’s Daredevil long enough to meet Bloody Mary, no,” Wade says.

B-15 presents them with further details: Typhoid Mary’s known abilities and weaknesses; how she has dissociative identity disorder on top of her colour blindness; how she managed to acquire the worst weapon available from the arms dealers she was supposed to take down; how her alter apparently took over and decided to go after invincible mutants until she finally got even with her world’s Deadpool. The TVA did try to intervene, but she ended up killing every agent that went after her before stealing one of their TemPads and consequently going on her multiversal manhunt. B-15 makes it absolutely clear how imperative it is that they do not kill Mary or destroy the weapon so the TVA can keep them both under tabs.

Then, she reveals the TVA’s plan to capture her: They want Logan to pose as a Deadpool variant in the timeline they believe she’s going to strike next. Typhoid Mary’s current M.O. doesn’t account for superstrength so he should be able to break out of anything she traps him in. Meanwhile, Wade will be in the shadows, using a tranquillizer gun to incapacitate her once she’s busy with Logan.

Logan groans internally while Wade claps his hands in delight.

“Ooh!” he practically squeals, patting Logan on the shoulder with unrestrained excitement. “Finally, it’s my turn on the other side of this trope!”

B-15 shakes her head and sends them on their way.

The suit the TVA provides him fits perfectly, and he notes Wade’s heated, lingering gaze on him once he steps out of the dressing room. Luckily, another agent gets them through a portal before Wade starts on a tirade that would no doubt be filled with inappropriate innuendoes about Logan.

The mission is executed almost laughably easy. Typhoid Mary’s telekinetic and telepathic abilities are so low-level Logan’s shocked that the others she went after were able to be taken down so quickly.

(“Plot armour, peanut,” Wade said when Logan had asked B-15 about this. “She needed to last long enough to meet us!” As usual, Logan had chosen to ignore him.)

Like the TVA discovered, she lures Deadpools by spreading rumours he can’t ignore, adding a honeypot stash filled with weapons he loves. Geared up in Wade’s suit, Logan “falls” for her trap: entering an abandoned warehouse meant to shelter an upcoming gang targeting Deadpool, but secretly only houses her. Once Logan finds the crate of weapons meant to entice Wade, Typhoid Mary wastes no time in capturing him. She points a giant ray-gun of sorts at his face after wrapping him in the warehouse’s chains with her telekinesis.

He feels the faintest compulsion to stay still, which is probably her telepathy trying to subdue him. But she’s nowhere near the level of other telepaths Logan’s encountered, like Jean or Cassandra Nova, and the compulsion is easy to ignore. The chains are slightly harder to deal with in comparison, but he’s certain he can get out of them without too much trouble. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Wade moving into place.

During Logan’s silent assessment of the situation, Typhoid Mary apparently began monologuing. He doesn’t let her get a chance to finish though, breaking out of the bonds around his torso with sheer force and grunting at the exertion. He slices the chains around his ankles with his claws, the metal cutting like butter against the adamantium.

“What?!” she screams. “A Wolverine-Deadpool variant? How?!”

Logan doesn’t even open his mouth for a reply because Wade shoots a tranq dart in her neck. She falls to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Wooh! No scope oneshot K/O, baby!” he hollers, skipping over to pick up the weapon Typhoid Mary dropped. “God, I’d love to take this home with us,” he bemoans as he assesses it, “I can finally stick it to Cable and show off my own badass, futuristic gun!”

“That won’t be necessary,” B-15 announces, suddenly next to them. A group of armed TVA agents begin to file in from the portal behind her, a few of them attempting to grab the weapon from Wade while others lift Typhoid Mary away for custody.

The aftermath of the mission would be just as easy if isn’t for Wade bitching about giving up the gun. After B-15 debriefs them, she and Logan spend entirely too long demanding that Wade hand it to her.

“I’ll give it back if we can keep this suit for pookie here,” Wade eventually offers, pointing at Logan.

“What?” Logan asks. The suit’s not bad but he has no reason to wear it again once he takes it off. “Why—?”

“Deal,” B-15 immediately agrees.

Wade begrudgingly relinquishes the gun, giving it a flying kiss goodbye before taking Logan’s hand. B-15 opens a portal to their apartment and guides them through. “Thanks for the help, gentlemen!” she says, waving a hand at them. They both wave back, and the portal closes.

Logan looks down at the Deadpool suit he’s still wearing. “Why the hell did you want—mmph!”

His lips are suddenly bombarded with hot kisses, and he growls when Wade opens his mouth his tongue. He didn’t even notice that Wade took off his mask.

“God, you look so fucking good in my colours,” Wade moans, hands roaming all over Logan’s body. “Is this how you feel whenever I wear your things?” Logan makes a noise of assent, too busy mouthing at Wade’s jaw to give a proper answer. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

Logan starts moving them towards the bed—Christ, he hopes Althea is gone because there’s no way he’s stopping what Wade’s started. His cock is already taking interest, and only gets harder when Logan bumps his hips into Wade’s. They tumble onto the pull-out in a feverish heat with Logan straddling Wade’s thighs.

He’s licking at Wade’s pulse when the dumbass gasps, “Oh my god, I’m gonna fuck a variant of myself.”

Used to Wade’s non-stop yammering even during sex, Logan mindlessly replies, “‘S still me, bub, I ain’t a variant of you.” Foolishly, he adds, “Besides, that’d be weird.”

“What? Why?”

With Wade groping his ass, Logan actually has to pause getting his hands under Wade’s suit to think about an answer.

He finally lands on: “It’d be like fucking your own clone.”

Wade actually stops everything he’s doing—hands no longer kneading his cheeks, mouth pulling away from him. Logan groans, knowing his brought this on himself, and dips his forehead to rest on Wade’s shoulder.

“What? You wouldn’t?”

“No, because that’s weird.”

“I’d fuck my clone.”

“Course you would.”

“T-B-H, I’m so pro-clone fucking I’d just have an orgy with all of them. Who’d be better to fuck me than me, right?”

This, by far, is one of—if not the—stupidest conversation Logan’s ever had with a person. Somehow, his dick doesn’t flag, and he’s still irrevocably fond of Wade’s random chatter. He kisses Wade before he can start on another tangent, cupping his perfect idiot’s face softly.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, but knowing the smile he’s got on, Wade isn’t going to listen to him.

Wade’s answering smirk is a challenge. “Make me, peanut.”

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Dazai Osamu (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu x GN! Reader

Warning: Yandere. Spoiler for Dazai's past. Spoilers for "Dazai and Chuuya, Fifteen", "STORM BRINGER", "Day I pick up Dazai", "Dazai Osamu and Dark Era". Mentions of torture. Misunderstanding (Dazai thinks, that Reader enjoys their suffering and that's why read BSD manga). OOC. English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

🪢🦀 Dazai Osamu gained self-awareness, when he was visiting Oda's grave.

🪢🦀 For others, first moments of been self-aware were full of fear, confusion, anger.

🪢🦀 For Dazai Osamu they were full of thinking.

🪢🦀 While others try to ignore the revelation, Dazai dived into it.

🪢🦀 Dazai tries to remember everything, he could.

🪢🦀 His childhood, days with Mafia, two years of hiding. Two years of working in ADA.

🪢🦀 Childhood - nothing. Like he appeared in the thin air in Mori's clinic.

🪢🦀 Days with Mafia - Previous Port Mafia Boss death, Arahabaki Incident, The King of Assassins Incident, His First meeting with Oda, Dragon's Head Conflict, Mimic's arrival to Yokohama and Oda's death.

🪢🦀 Two years of hiding - nothing.

🪢🦀 Two years of working with ADA - Azure Apostle case and everything after he met with Atsushi.

🪢🦀 Dazai feel emptier than usual. Can he be seen as human, if his memories are limited to certain events?

🪢🦀 Dazai feel anger. So much anger. He was created as a person, who is tired of this life, who seek death just for someone's entertainment? Was Oda killed, just for someone's entertainment?

🪢🦀 Why someone created him to be a lonely person? For what purpose?

🪢🦀 When Dazai arrived at the Agency, he saw his colleagues. Lost, confused. With little flame of hope in their hearts. They hope, that it's just someone's ability. That they are real. Dazai's appearance was the thing, that destroyed this hope.

🪢🦀 He could try to pretend. Lie to them, that they are right. That it's all just an ability.

🪢🦀 But he can't.

🪢🦀 Because abilities don't work on him. Because he told them himself. And not because he l try to hurt them. Not because he lashed out on them. It wasn't a misdirect anger.

🪢🦀 Because, in this situation, hope that was born out of a lie, won't do them any good.

"It's not an ability. Yokohama wasn't broken. We are broken. We are fictional characters, who gained self-awareness. Try to remember your lives. Parents, friends outside ADA, what you did yesterday. Give it a try"

🪢🦀 Anger. Confusion. Fear. It was cruel from Dazai. But, again, lie won't do them good.

🪢🦀 At least now, they would try to deal with this situation accordingly.

🪢🦀 They moved dorms to the same building as the office.

🪢🦀 They tried to find a solution.

🪢🦀 Dazai was patrolling the city from time to time. That's when he met Chuuya and Hirotsu. They were searching for answers. Just like ADA. All, who is left from Port Mafia were searching for answers.

🪢🦀 They couldn't find any.

🪢🦀 Dazai's anger didn't lessen. He still was angry at people, to whom his existence was amusing. To whom Oda's death was entertaining.

🪢🦀 And then, one day, he felt an entity's gaze on him.

____________

Dazai Osamu has a feeling, that this entity ether were the one, who created them, or the one, for whom they were created.

If so many of them had a terrible past, does it mean it amuses The Entity?

Few days later, Atsushi came to him.

"Dazai-san... Do you feel it? Like... someone is staring at us?" Atsushi was nervous. He was looking around, trying to see the strange entity.

Dazai's voice was emotionless.

"Yes, Atsushi-kun. I feel it"

All of them feel it. When Dazai ran into Chuuya and Hirotsu again, they also confirm, that they feel its gaze. It was safe to assume, that other organizations also feel its gaze.

Something from out of there. Something from a different world.

They have no means to get to it.

He has no means to catch it. To make it talk. To make it sorry, for liking suffering.

Dazai Osamu may not be a part of Mafia anymore, but he still remembers, how to torture people.

It will be destroyed. Dazai will make sure of it.

ADA noticed, that he was ready to destroy. Doesn't matter. He will do it to avenge them, to avenge himself, to avenge Oda.

But one day, time reset.

And he, once again, was a fifteen-year-old boy, who was sent by Mori to investigate the sudden appearance of the previous Port Mafia Boss.

_____________

When they start feeling your presence

🪢🦀 Do the Entity try to get a rise out of him?

🪢🦀 Do the Entity wanted to enjoy their suffering once again?

🪢🦀 Dazai's gaze wasn't the friendliest. It also seems, that Mori also understand, that the time has reset. Ougai himself looked uncomfortable. Dazai doesn't care, if it was because of Dazai's glare or because of time reset. Dazai snatched the silver oracle from the Mori's hands and wanted to storm out of his office.

🪢🦀 The Entity. This cursed gaze in the sky. The gaze, that he wasn't feeling.

🪢🦀 Dazai stopped and looked around. No more gaze in the sky. No more imposing entity. But, there was something more. It feels like, something was floating above them. Something close to a human. It was talking.

"young..." "scare..." "Mori..." "what..." "happened..."

🪢🦀 So, The Entity can talk. Their voice sounded quiet. Barely recognizable. And, still, so human. And it was reacting to his actions. Does it react to the words too? It seems, Mori had the same idea. Once again, he asked.

"Dazai-kun, I don't know if I can understand it, but tell me―why do you want to die?"

And, once again, Dazai asked in return

"Tell me this. Do you really think that there’s any value in the act of living?"

Some static. And words.

"why..." "child..." "in that age..."

🪢🦀 The Entity was confused. And, it seems, it was curious about him.

🪢🦀 In any case, Dazai can spend some time observing it.

🪢🦀 It's time to investigate Arahabaki Incident/Previous Port Mafia Boss appearance once again.

________________

🪢🦀 The Entity was watching. It was amused by his bickering with Chuuya. It was cheering, when he won the video game against Chuuya.

🪢🦀 And it was worried. It was worried about both of them, when they were fighting with Rando.

____________

"In the surface world, the world of light, death is generally kept hidden from everyday life because it's unpleasant. But in the mafia's world, it's different. Death is just an extension and a part of everyday life. And I think that's probably right. Because 'dying' isn't the opposite of 'living', it's nothing more than a feature incorporated into 'living'. Breathe, eat, fall in love, die. You have to observe death up close to understand the whole picture of living."

And Dazai heard the voice. Clearer, than earlier, but still, not entirely recognizable.

"Dazai [|||||||||||||||||||||] point. Still [|||||||||||||||||] dark. But, [|||] fine, if it works for him."

Dazai feels, like he was covered in something nice and soft. The Entity's emotions were strong. And sincere.

An acceptance. Not judging. Not trying to pry.

_____________

🪢🦀 The Entity... It was observing, but it didn't try to pry. It was okay, with simply looking.

🪢🦀 But most important thing - The Entity was sad. The Entity was sad, that Randou has died.

🪢🦀 Was he mistaken? It doesn't seem that The Entity liked suffering.

🪢🦀 And it didn't seem malicious.

🪢🦀 Okay, it's either doing a good job hiding its true intentions, or their first reaction, before time reset, were a little bit overboard.

🪢🦀 Dazai feel calmer, than before. Chuuya and Mori also don't seem as angry as they were before.

🪢🦀 Dazai still doesn't trust The Entity. But he was curious about it.

🪢🦀 The Entity... What was it? What kind of person they really are?

🪢🦀 Time reset once again.

🪢🦀 Dazai, once again, was a sixteen-year-old boy, who used his ability to save Chuuya.

____________

🪢🦀 This time, The Entity didn't stick. It seems, it was more interested in staying with Chuuya.

🪢🦀 Dazai feels The Entity again, when Verlaine came to his 'home' to take the documents. And when Port Mafia start an operation to kill Verlaine.

🪢🦀 Dazai was fine with it. Now he has more time to think.

🪢🦀 Dazai hoped, that The Entity will be scared by his "betrayal" of the mafia.

🪢🦀 That it will be scared of him.

🪢🦀 It wasn't. It didn't judge. It just accepts it.

🪢🦀 The King of Assassins Incident ended the same way. But one thing was different. Both Verlaine and Chuuya looked at peace. Dazai was sure, he heard, that Verlaine want to hear them again. And Chuuya was mumbling something about 'protecting them'.

🪢🦀 The Entity... He was ready to accept it. But, he needs to see something more. Just one more time.

🪢🦀 Time resets again.

🪢🦀 And Dazai woke up on the bed in Oda's house. Oda was standing there.

And a shapeless Light Blob was floating above them.

___________

🪢🦀 For the first few moments, Dazai didn't know what to say.

🪢🦀 Oda is alive. The Entity now is a Blob of Light.

🪢🦀 ... His memories. Dazai didn't want to think about it, but... What if the next time, The Entity will choose time when Mimic arrived at Yokohama?

🪢🦀 Does The Entity wanted to torture him and Oda?

🪢🦀 Dazai wanted to curse this creature, when Oda spoke, pointing at the Light Blob.

"Dazai, do you know, who are this? This Light Blob sounds adorable."

______________

The talk he has with Oda was long. Dazai told Oda about everything he knew about The Entity.

And about thinking, that The Entity was evil.

Oda's voice was calm.

"I don't think so, Dazai. We may be fictional characters. But, reading a book about a fictional character with a sad past doesn't mean, that The Reader enjoys suffering. Or, you don't think, that there's nothing interesting in us, except our suffering?"

Oda's shift his gaze to the Light Blob, that was floating above them. He tried to pet it, but his fingers go through it.

"You know, what I feel from them? Sadness. It feels like a mountain spring. They aren't bad. They just a human."

____________

🪢🦀 Just a human...

🪢🦀 Dazai stayed with Oda for a few more days.

🪢🦀 The Entity... Light Blob, spend most of the time with Oda. Blob was laying on Odasaku's head. Oda doesn't seem to mind its company.

🪢🦀 Oda spoke to Light Blob from time to time. It seems, that man enjoyed their one-sided conversations.

🪢🦀 Oda tried to encourage Dazai to spoke to the Entity, but Dazai, for now, refuses.

🪢🦀 He believes Oda and sees a point in his words. But, he prefers to stay on guard for now.

🪢🦀 Dazai heard The Reader's voice from time to time.

___________

"Pufferfish and amanita virosa [|||||||||||] heard before. Never [||||||||] about potato sprout. Another knowledge [||||||||||||||]"

"Heh. [||||||||||||||||] won again. Thought too much about your skills, Dazai?"

Dazai feels, like someone tickled him. The Entity tried to tease him.

Dazai deadpanned and looked away from the cards. He looked at the Light Blob, that was, once again, laying on Odasaku's head.

"Shush. At least I am a person, not a Light Blob. While you are in this form, no one will treat you seriously"

It takes Dazai a few moments, to realize, that he finally spoke to The Entity. Oda chuckled.

"Well, it's good enough for a first interaction."

__________

🪢🦀 Then came a run in with "48".

🪢🦀 When Dazai and Oda were trying to escape, the Light Blob were floating ahead. Lighting their way. Like a guiding light.

🪢🦀 The Entity was worried, when Dazai was poisoned.

🪢🦀 And when Dazai and Oda came to bar "Lupin" for the first time, the Light Blob was floating above them.

🪢🦀 Dazai thought, that it would be nice if The Entity can hear them and talk to them.

🪢🦀 It would be great to talk to them, to play poker with them, to talk to them.

🪢🦀 And time reset once again.

🪢🦀 Mimic came to Yokohama.

________________

🪢🦀 Ango's betrayal, Orphans' death, Mori's plan.

🪢🦀 And The Entity's sorrow. The Entity's sadness, that felt like a mountain spring.

🪢🦀 Oda wasn't mad at The Entity. Dazai also can't bring himself to be mat at them.

🪢🦀 And, once again, Oda died.

____________

Oda was dead. And the flood of emotions falls on Dazai.

The Entity was crying.

The Light Blob became bigger.

The figure made of light

That hugged him.

Then, Dazai heard their words.

"sorry" "poor kids, poor Oda, poor everyone" "if only I can"

"I am so sorry, Dazai... So sorry... Oda was a good person. And I believe, that you can be a good person too"

Dazai feels something wet on his shoulder.

[In reality, your tears drop on LN's pages.]

Dazai was stunned. They were so human... They are real. Not in this world, but they are real.

They treat him, and others, as humans.

Dazai try to look up at the figure of light. You were there. You were with him during his past. You did not to enjoy his suffering. But to be with him. To support him.

And now, you, just as Oda, were a sigh of a better future.

The emotions, the sympathy. He wished, he would be near you.

He will gather others. All of them will come to your world.

Dazai whispers: "Guiding Light... My Dear Guiding Light. Don't be afraid. With us by your side, you will never be in danger. You will always be happy."

To be with you. To someone so human and understanding.

Because near you, he feels that he is a real human being.

Few days after, time resets again.

And Dazai, once again, was floating down the river, right before Atsushi saved him.

__________

🪢🦀 When Dazai was sure, that all ADA liked you, he proposed to start searching for a way to your world.

🪢🦀 Dazai was the one, who proposed to create The Union.

🪢🦀 Dazai will make sure, that all people, who joins them, likes Their Dear Guiding Light. He won't let anyone lay a finger on them. He will train Atsushi and Akutagawa to be your bodyguards.

🪢🦀 The Union creation was a success. But they still haven't found a way to your world.

But then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

_____________________

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

🪢🦀 All Dazai cards have passive talents, that will be activated when marble destroy one orb.

"Poor Dazai, have to lay on newspaper, until I raise Sofa's level enough"

"Tengu Dazai look so pretty!"

"Year of the Tiger animation is so cute!"

🪢🦀 Dazai likes, when you're using his cards.

🪢🦀 Dazai will rig the event scouts, so you will get his cards first.

🪢🦀 Rigged Chuuya's Birthday Scout, so you will get anyone, but Chuuya.

🪢🦀 It failed, because, Chuuya send you his cards in Gift Box.

🪢🦀 When you got Oda's SSR card from scout, and Oda appeared in the ADA office, well and alive (just a little dizzy), Dazai was ready to simply knock out the screen of your phone and hoped, that he will get into your world. At that moment, he wanted to embrace you and never let go.

🪢🦀 When BSD characters gain access to the rest of your phone, Dazai will often browse the Internet with you.

🪢🦀 Doesn't matter, what you are looking at, he just keeps you company.

🪢🦀 Won't let you leave likes under dog's photos and videos.

🪢🦀 He is waiting for the day, when they came to your world.

🪢🦀 He will make sure, that your life will be happy.

__________

You noticed another notification from The Gift Box.

Another note with new SSR card. Of Dazai and Oda playing poker. There was a strange light blob floating above them.

"[Y/N], dear, thank you for bringing Oda back. Thank you for been near. Lets one day spend time together. You. Me. And Oda. We are waiting for that day. Please, wait for us. Dazai Osamu"

You smile and open the new card. You pet Dazai's sprite.

"I will wait, Dazai. Will be happy to spend time with you and Oda."

You didn't notice, that Dazai's sprite looked at you. And that his mouth was moving. And, of course, you couldn't hear his words.

"It's a promise, Dear Guiding Light."

[whispyfigs]

while sora was having lunch with her grandparents after her arrival yesterday, her grandma caught her up on all the new places that opened in town, a manga store, a bowling alley and a cat cafe right across their home which sora got so excited about. she woke up the next day, grabbed her book and went to the cafe. and it seems like the barista is quite into her as he kept glancing at her for a while…

previous

[pokequirks]

incubus 02

pairing: incubus!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader.

synopsis: incubus katsuki cooks for the woman.

genre: again fluff.

note: got inspired by this manga i read and #monsterfucker on tumblr. this will definitely contain smut. you should send request or ideas.

part one

katsuki was already inside the apartment, he had entered through the window just like the night before. he was somewhat impatient, it was late and the young woman hadn't arrived home. he was lying on the bed, looking at the ceiling.

he heard some steps outside the room, so he stood up and walked towards the other room. the living room was full of numerous books, and the woman stood in front of the kitchen counter.

"if you're coming home late, ya should say," katsuki whispered in her ear, one hand on her hip and his mouth close to her temple. "i was waiting for you."

"oh, i'm sorry, katsuki, i stayed late at work." she apologized, hands on the disposable plastic tray.

"you shouldn't," he murmured, his nose brushing by her hair. "let's go to bed. we can do whatever you like there, uhm?"

moments later, katsuki stood in the kitchen. he served the woman a nice homemade meal and sat in front of her as she ate.

"you should eat better," katsuki frowned, "you only eat trash."

"with work and my masters i really haven't had time to cook for myself."

"yet yesterday you were staring at those letters." katsuki grumbled, holding a spoonful of food and offering it to her.

she opened her mouth, and for a moment, Katsuki's cheeks felt a little hot as he fed her the food. "Thank you for cooking."

"yeah, yeah, now finish it."

[nykuna]

THE IRONY OF FATE

Chapter 1 : The beginning of the end.

pairing : Ryomen Sukuna x fem reader

cw : angst, mention of drugs and alcohol, slow burn, romance

synopsis : After leaving all your bad memories behind in your homeland, you leave the country with your best friend to start afresh. The ghosts of your past seem to keep haunting you, but when you finally get your life back together, your new-found stability seems to be shattered when you meet this mysterious stranger one night.

Is he a blessing or a cruel joke of fate?

jjk alternate universe : no jujutsu sorcerers, everyone is human.

The sun starts to set when your alarm goes off, 10PM, working nights really starts to take its toll on your health, but it's not like you have a choice anyway.

Staring at the alarm on your phone, you feel unable to get out of bed; you worked a double shift the night before and only got a few hours' sleep, plus a strange feeling is tormenting you. Something in your guts is telling you that today’s gonna be a bad day, but whatever, you’re used to them now.

You work as a barmaid in one of the city's fanciest clubs, and your boss has always insisted that you come to work dressed, since it's not unusual for you to serve celebrities of all kinds.

~

Once you're ready, you finally emerge from your room to find your roommate Lily. She’s your best friend since childhood, and you've both decided to move to another country to start afresh after a series of unfortunate events in your native land.

You've barely had time to get to the living room when she rushes from her room to show you her phone.

[boxing championships in tokyo, professional fighting…]

You could only read the first sentence when she explains her excitement seeing that you're having trouble keeping up.

« It was yesterday y/n!! They might still be here today, i’m ready to bet they’re gonna go to your club tonight… » she chirps, now you understand where she’s going, she has the biggest crush on one of the fighters hence the excitement.

« Let me guess, you're coming tonight and waiting for him to arrive to shoot your shot am i right?" You laughed, she pouts at you while you put your shoes on. « , i could use a pretty boxer to change my mind, if he does come, better hope he brings a friend » you wink before leaving the apartment.

~

You finally arrive at work a little early. You decide to sit at the bar and watch the show unfold before your eyes. The lights are dimmed and you're watching a group of men who seem to be chatting away, when something catches your eye.

You must have missed the news, but a group of traditional dancers perform fire-wielding choreography to music that seems to send the audience into a kind of trance.

You don't know if it's because you're tired, but the whole thing seems almost unreal to you, and you lose yourself in your thoughts, watching the sparks fly over your head.

You used to love that kind of performance, especially fireworks, that was his thing. It had become your tradition, whenever something went wrong, you went to light fireworks on the beach and laugh till you dropped. Fire had always been paradoxically comforting for you, but now that he's gone, it seems the bright lights have nothing to offer you anymore.

You're still reminiscing about all those precious memories when your colleague pulls you out of your thoughts.

"You should go and get ready y/n, your shift starts in 5 minutes!" Suguru tells you, smiling gently.

Back in reality, your eyes open wide as you realize you've been in your thoughts for 20 minutes, you hurry to join Suguru behind the bar, then into the break room to change and finally start your shift. But the foreboding you've had since waking up doesn't seem to want to leave you in peace, something hovers in the air and you're unable to put your finger on it.

For the next few hours, you'll be making drinks and chatting with customers, and even though you don't like wasting your time on trivia, you know that by doing so you can guarantee yourself a generous amount of tips.

Your night finally brightens up when you see Lily walk through the door, thanking the bouncer and walking towards you with a big smile.

« Y/n !! How’s your night going ? Seen anyone…? » she asks, looking around in the hope of finding what or who she's come for.

"If he's here he's not in the main room, i would’ve seen him, but suguru told me there was a table upstairs that had ordered a huge amount of drinks, and that a lot of girls seem to be milling around..." you explain while cleaning glasses.

« oh my god so it might really happen…I'll wait for you to finish, and then would you come upstairs with me?" she asks, making sweet eyes.

« Obviously, I'm not going to let you into the lion's cage on your own," you smirk and go back to serving your customers.

~

Finally finished with your shift, you head into the break room to find Suguru slumped on one of the sofas.

"Do you want to go for a smoke? I can't stay longer tonight..." He says, handing you a cigarette.

"Hell yes, I've been looking forward to this all evening" You tell him as you untie your hair and put on your jacket.

You head for the rear exit to avoid the chaos of the main smoking room, as you pass through the door, the cold wind engulfs your lungs and wakes you from your emerging fatigue.

You walk with your coworker to the nearest bench and ask him how his evening went.

"Not great, the boss is really becoming unbearable. I wonder if I'm going to start looking for a new club to work at to be honest." he says with his head in his hands, looking really exhausted, depressed even.

"What has he done now for you to come to this? And if you leave, I don't know how I'll cope, you're the light of my nights" you try to cheer him up by making him laugh, but there's some truth in what you say. You've been working here for two years now, it was Suguru who helped you get hired, and he's now one of the people dearest to your heart, no longer just a colleague but a true friend.

Even so, you couldn't help noticing that his mental health seemed to be plummeting lately. He's not the type to rant about his feelings, but you think it might have something to do with his ex-girlfriend who left him a few months earlier for another man.

"I'll be honest, it was never my dream to work here, I had bigger plans but I met her and dropped everything for her, she wanted someone stable so I took the first job that came along and now here I am, she's dumped me after I sacrificed everything for her, and I have to put up with an abusive boss who only increases our hours without paying us of course."

You sit beside him in silence, this being the first time you've heard him confide in you so much. You're grateful that he feels comfortable enough to tell you all this, but part of you can't help worrying. How much was he repressing his feelings, and for how long?

"I don't know the whole story, but what I am sure of is that you shouldn't stand by and watch your youth and dreams slip through your fingers, by staying here you're letting her steal a part of you. I know that whatever your dreams are, you're capable of making them come true and-" before you can finish, his phone rings.

He looks at the name on the screen and apologizes sincerely, but explains that he must take the call at all costs. You tell him there's nothing to worry about and that you'll see him the day after tomorrow as you're off tomorrow. He kisses you on the cheek and thanks you for your words before leaving for his car parked a little way off.

Now you find yourself alone in the dark night, lit only by the club's neon lights. You realize that you've never smoked a cigarette and decide to have a quick one before joining Lily, your thoughts continuing to orbit around what suguru has told you.

You reach into your bag and pockets for your lighter, but it's nowhere to be found. You realize Suguru must have left with it.

You wander around, hoping to find someone who can lend you one without having to go to the smoking room.

After a good 5 minutes wandering around without success, you spot smoke around the corner of the building. amen.

You move towards the figure, but can't help realizing just how imposing he is, as you gradually see him appear through the fog.

You just stand there, maybe it's the sizzling red lights that plunge you back into the memories you're trying hard to forget, or maybe it's this tall, mysterious stranger standing alone, upright with his back to you. Your mind is probably playing tricks on you, but you can't help feeling some kind of attraction to him. Your foreboding is tormenting you more than ever, and it doesn't bode well.

"You're just going to stand there?" A deep, stoic voice forces you out of your thoughts. When you look up, you realize that he's now facing you, but he doesn't even deign to look at you. His aura is intoxicating, the attraction you felt earlier almost unbearable. He's wearing a black hoodie and matching jogging pants. Your eyes trace his body back to his face. Tattoos can be seen out in the darkness on his face, and seem to run down his neck, maybe even further.

"Shit, sorry, I got lost in thought, do you have a lighter I could use?" you ask, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. But your voice is probably shaking, because no matter how intimidating and obviously unpleasant he can be, he's extremely attractive and it's been a long time since you've felt that way about anyone.

He finally lowers his head to look at you, you do your best to hold his gaze, but it's hard to remain impassive. You must really be going crazy, but you could swear his eyes are sparkling red. again, it's probably just the combination of the lights and your twisted mind making you hallucinate.

"A lighter? only if you come and have a drink with me afterwards" he smirks. You can't help but notice a sparkle in his eyes, almost like a predator cornering his prey. Unfortunately for him, you could see right through him, as you yourself are used to this game, this hunt.

Besides, you were meeting Lily for drinks anyway, so a little male distraction wouldn't hurt.

"That's fine with me, you can go back inside if you're done I'll join you." you say as you turn to lean against the wall, hoping to breathe one and pull yourself together.

"pretty girl, I doubt you could join me on the VIP floor dressed like that, no offense." he says, lifting your head by the chin.

"I could go in my pajamas if I wanted, I work here dumbass." you escape from his grip and throw your still lit cigarette at his feet. "find someone else to piss off, I have to join someone anyway." That's all you say before moving towards the entrance.

~

You were a little annoyed to say the least, for once you'd felt really attracted to someone, and he turned out to be an asshole. But as you walk back into the club, you can't help but smile again at the thought of finding Lily.

Heading for the stairs, you stop to greet Shoko as she starts her shift, grab a couple of drinks for you and Lily and continue upstairs.

Once you're upstairs, the atmosphere is completely different. Unlike the people downstairs, who indulge in socializing and fiery dancing, everything is more subdued here, with bottle girls taking turns to serve customers who treat them like dirt.

You spot Lily at the back of the room, scanning her surroundings. She's sitting in one of the booths, laughing with a group of people who have obviously spent an obscene amount of money on alcohol.

As you walk towards her, your eyes widen, she was right. You immediately recognize the tall, white-haired man she's spoken of so often, and see that she's wasted no time in talking to him. You smile as you imagine how happy she must be, especially as he seems to be enjoying her company.

Lily's eyes light up when you arrive at the table, and she jumps into your arms. She introduces you to everyone and you finally sit down next to her.

You tell her what happened a few minutes before at the back of the club, she can't believe her ears and starts insulting the stranger, laughing along with you.

"If you don't want to go home alone tonight, you're spoilt for choice" she chirps, and she's absolutely right. Everyone around this table is particularly beautiful. But you wouldn't expect anything less from a group of top athletes.

"Mind if i borrow her ? I'm gojo satoru by the way, but since you're close to Lily, you can call me satoru" the white-haired man steps forward to greet you. Not really your style, but you do understand Lily's interest.

"no problem she's all yours, y/n delighted" you smile as you watch them go downstairs to get drinks, which seems strange given that VIPs are served at the table, but seeing the wink Lily gives you as she leaves, you understand that they probably want to be alone for whatever reason.

You find yourself alone, so you look around hoping to find a familiar face, and how disappointed you were to realize that the only face familiar to you was that of the asshole from earlier.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles sideways, stands up and approaches you. There it is, the attraction, the lump in your stomach, maybe it's the alcohol you've ingested, but he looks even more handsome in the light, the color of his eyes still blood-red to you and you can't look away.

"missed me too much baby?" he says, sitting down next to you, much too close.

You take a breath, for some reason the air is almost unbreathable in his presence. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, but why? You weren't likely to find out any more tonight, after his question, you finished your drink in one gulp, it was going to be a long night.

more updates on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/56234707/chapters/142859620

nyc <3

[leviathism]

levi x gn reader

There was never a lonely day in the House of Lamentation.

Constantly, you were swarmed by grown demon men who wanted your attention so desperately they were willing to fight each other for it.

At night, it grew to an unbearable level of clinginess. Too many men were in your bed, waiting for your arrival.

One, wearing glittering pink lingerie.

Another, spreading money across the bed to ‘claim his territory.’

Another, dead asleep on the bed with drool pooling on the sheets.

And another, eating chips and getting crumbs all over your bed.

You were sick of it. It was always too hot and sweaty, too many bodies trying to crawl into your skins It was too much.

So, you avoided your bedroom tonight, heading along the dark hallways to a familiar blue bedroom. The door was cracked just slightly open.

“Levi,” you called out after you moved the door a little more. There was no response. You opened the door wider and crept inside.

You left the lights off and used the light of his aquariums and monitors to guide you to the bathtub in the center of the room.

Levi was sleeping on his stomach, his head laying on his crossed arms. You smiled at him, seeing the small goldfish pillow beside his head.

You lifted a leg into the tub, slowly and carefully lowering yourself into it. With less grace than you usually had, you dropped down onto Levi’s back.

Levi grunted and opened his eyes. He looked up at you and sighed.

“Don’t act like you don’t love me,” you whispered into the back of his neck. He shivered underneath you.

“Shut up,” he whispered back, a furious blush spreading across his face. “You don’t even watch Anime, why would I love you?”

“Because I’m ‘awesome.’ I heard you talking about me earlier yesterday,” you admitted to him and grinned gleefully when he hid his face into the pillow below him.

You slid down his body a few inches and rested your head onto his back.

The good thing about Levi was that he never ran hot and he also usually didn’t cuddle. You never had to worry about getting overheated or being suffocated to death.

You happily rubbed your cheek against his back.

“Levi, can I sleep with you for the rest of the year?”

“The rest of the year?!” He sputtered, turning his face to try and look at you. “Why?”

“My bed is infested with some ugly bugs,” you told him. “You’re a cute bug, though, so I’d rather sleep with you.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Whatever. Just don’t touch my Ruri-Chan pillows.”

“You got it, captain Levi.” He groaned and closed his eyes.

“Don’t touch my games, either. Or my collections. Or my magazines, my manga, my PC, or my Henry.”

“I can touch you, though?” You grabbed his waist. He jumped. You laughed. “I’m just teasing.” You let him go.

He whined into his pillow, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you drawled out playfully, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Whatever.” He rolled over onto his side so you slipped off of him. You were now behind him, suspiciously unable to see his face. You grinned, tugging an arm around his torso and slipping a leg between his.

You cuddled into his back, ignoring the fact that you were a hypocrite. You went here to avoid men cuddling into you and using you as a pillow, but here you were, doing the same to poor Levi. You knew he didn’t mind though.

Not with how he always left the door unlocked and slightly cracked open.

[khunyuki]

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ᴍᴀɪɴ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 1. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Synopsis: Soshiro is extremely worried for his fiancee who called out to him in the middle of the night. He just wanted her to let her feelings out not knowing it would change the trajectory of their relationship. With feelings out in the open and confessions long due, they said those three words.

Pairing/s: Soshiro Hoshina x Fiancee!OC

Notes: This is originally meant to be angst and break up fic but Kagami said NO and I couldn't bring myself to say otherwise. This is the side stories' fault for showing how good their relationship is😭 I also changed the title to fit! Soshiro's eyes turn back to red to be the same as the manga~

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Masterlist: TOC, Intro, Next

Future Wife: I want to see you now

Future Wife: Please

When Hoshina Soshiro's phone chimed a special tune, he knew he received a text message from his fiancee. His hands that had a mind of their own, took his phone and opened it to see something that bugged him. When he clicked on the message, it was already unsent and he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding.

*Future Wife unsent a message*

*Future Wife unsent a message*

Kagami had never done this before so he could feel that something terrible must've happened.

Future Husband: What's wrong? Are you okay? Where are you?

He saw her reading his message and he waited for her to reply. He could see her typing then deleting it as if she's hesitating, but eventually she did tell him.

Future Wife: Ryunei Shrine

Ryunei Shrine? What was she doing there? Especially in the middle of the night when she should be at home resting? Did something happen at the Uzui household? Soshiro had many thoughts regarding this as he knew of the strained relationship between her and her family. She may have never told him anything but he knows.

This is why he asked her yesterday if she wanted him to come but she refused knowing that he already spent the night searching for that new kaiju, Kaiju no. 8. Until now, he's incredibly worried with that kaiju still around and not caught. He knew she's capable of protecting herself but still he couldn't help but worry.

Future Husband: Wait for me

Ignoring the mountains of paperwork in front of him, Soshiro left his office to go to his fiancee. Of course he didn't forget to tell his captain about his leave. He told her it's an emergency with his family and they need him ASAP. Of course Mina knows he's going to her but let him be as she saw his anxious face.

.

When Hoshina Soshiro arrived at Ryunei Shrine, it was already deep into the night. He tried to calm his breathing to not let her notice that he ran. Then he saw her crouched down and playing with a dandelion...

She wasn't looking at him but he knew she acknowledged his presence. Even from far away, he could see just how exhausted she looked. It is only her side profile that he could see but he felt like he was seeing a moon goddess. Her long black hair that was over her shoulder was glimmering under the moonlight and despite her eyes being empty and lips not smiling, she still looked ethereal to his eyes.

He slowly moved closer to her, as silent as possible, as to not disturb her. He removed his jacket and gently placed it on her shoulders as he crouched down beside her.

"I heard that if you blow on dandelions, your wish will come true"

Soshiro told her as he himself picked one and blowed on it. He wished that he and Kagami will be happy. They watched as the seeds flew away along with the wind.

"I think my wish won't come true even if I blew on it"

Kagami let out a weak chuckle, the smile on her face looked taunting, as if she's loathing something. It made Soshiro frown for he hates to see her like this. He had many questions but he wants to respect her silence.

"You won't know until you try"

After a moment of contemplation, Kagami blew on her dandelion. She watched it disappear into the night for a long time. Then she stood up and turned to face her fiance who did the same.

When Kagami looked at the man in front of her, she was reminded of the time they first met.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

Back then, her father told her that he would be visiting a friend and that he wanted her to come with him to meet his children. Young and naive, the girl only wished to spend time with her father so she instantly agreed. Shy as she may be, the prospect of having a new friend also made her excited.

When they arrived at the Hoshina residence, they were immediately greeted and led inside. At the sight of unfamiliar adults and surroundings, [Y/N] hid behind her father.

Then they entered a tatami meeting room, quite similar to the one they had at home yet still different. She still hid behind her father's back even as they were seated on the cushions provided.

"Haha, pardon her, my daughter is quite shy towards people she just met."

Uzui Juzo chuckled as he tenderly pet his daughter head.

"It's no problem at all, in fact, it's quite adorable"

Hearing the stranger complement her, the child blushed and hid further. Only the two adults inside the room chuckled at the cute response.

As the adults have their conversation, she finally calmed and started to look around. It was then that she noticed the two children sitting beside the man. Surprised, she shrinked back but peeked out once more.

They were both looking at her, with the older one smiling kindly and the younger one just... staring. She saw a glimpse of his red eyes but when she blinked, his eyes were already closed. She tilted her head in confusion.

A chuckle from the man presumed to be the boys' father made her turn to look at him.

"It seems like there isn't any need for further discussion."

"I agree. It's settled then."

Seeing the two men agree on something, she thought it was finally over when...

"Kagami, introduce yourself."

Obeying her father, she fixed her position and bowed properly like she was taught.

"It's nice to meet you. My name is Kagami, Uzui Kagami."

Before lifting her head, she heard the man encourage his son to reply.

"My name is Soshiro, Hoshina Soshiro. I am looking forward to knowing you, Kagami."

When she looked up, she once again saw the kid's eyes. But this time, he was smiling.

"From today onwards, the two of you are officially engaged."

Engaged? What does it mean again? Kagami thought as she once again stared at Soshiro in confusion. Sensing that, her father immediately explained.

"You are to become husband and wife in the future."

She tried to process it first before exploding red on the realization. She gazed at Soshiro in astonishment. The bowl-headed kid in front of her with narrow eyes striking red lenses was to be her husband? Husband and wife as in like her mother and father?? Someone who will be by her side forever???

Wow. Just wow. She couldn't be any happier.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

She couldn't be any happier, she thought. Yes. It was true. That was one of the best moments in her life.

It was an arranged marriage for sure but she didn't mind. Being with someone for a long time, cherishing them, loving them... That's what she always wanted. It's what she wanted until now.

When she looked at the man in front of her, her heart ached yet it was racing so fast. Because she...

.

.

Because she loves him...

"Who did this to you?"

Soshiro opened his eyes to reveal his concern. His irises glanced at her swollen cheek that he couldn't see earlier as it was skillfully hidden from him. He hesitated first before caressing it, his heart filled with hatred at whoever had done this to her. His hand was cold which was what she needed at that moment as she desperately leaned on it.

"It's not important"

She closed her eyes to hide as it was the complete opposite of what she felt. It wasn't unimportant at all. She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry in his arms and have him comfort her.

"What do you mean it's not important? Someone hurt you and... I worry about you, Kagami"

Soshiro bit his tongue at the unspoken words he badly wanted to say towards the bastard who hurt her yet seeing the vulnerable look on her face, he just wanted her to feel safe.

He took her in his arms and cradled her. His left arm around her waist as his right hand was caressing her head.

"I'm here. I won't leave you. I love you"

He whispered words of assurance and sweet nothings while kissing her head. Just hearing him say I love you was enough to make her cry and sob in his arms as she finally wrapped her arms around him in a tight, desperate hug.

For years, she longed to hear those words come from his mouth. She never doubted him as he always showed her how important she is to him and how much he loves her. Rather it was herself that she doubted, she overthink things and deluded herself that he felt otherwise. After all, hearing it and feeling it were different, she wanted to hear it as much as she wanted to feel it.

"That's the first time I've heard you say that to me"

Kagami struggled to let those words out in between her hiccups. And Soshiro once again, widened his eyes in shock. He'd always been saying it on his mind and telling her about it when she's asleep. He blames himself for not telling her whenever she's awake, regretting it so much. This time he'll tell her properly.

"I love you, Kagami. I've loved you even before I met you"

He put both his hands on her cheeks and lifted her face tenderly, after of hurting her even further. He looked straight into her eyes and confessed.

"I love you too, Soshiro. From the moment I saw you until forever"

With the light returning to her eyes and bright smile on her face, Kagami confessed amidst her tears.

Soshiro's heart fluttered as this is also his first time hearing those words come from her mouth. He doesn't want to regret any further so he leaned down and placed her lips on top of hers.

It was gentle, as light as feather, but it ignited the fire in their hearts. It was a gentle first kiss, they regretted not doing it before. They've done it on every part of their faces but always hesitated on the lips. This time, there's no hesitation as they went for another, and another, and another. With every kiss getting deeper and deeper, not stopping as if they'd disappear if they did. They went at it for a long time, not even bothering that they were out of breath. They can never make up for the lost time but they sure can do it now, anytime they want.

.

When their high ended, they finally stopped and felt embarrassment. Despite their red faces, they did not let go of each other. There was still tension in the air and Kagami decided to break it by telling her what she thought of earlier.

"Earlier, I was thinking of the first time we met."

She looked up at him from her position, still leaning on his chest. Her ears listening to the fast beating of his heart. She smiled at him lovingly, placing her own hands atop his cold ones.

"Is that so?"

'Ah... His smile is so beautiful' She thought as she watched him chuckle at her reminiscing, placing his forehead on hers. She moved away a little to make it comfortable and placed his hands on her cheeks once more.

'This is bad. I'm falling in love all over again.'

"Yeah. I was so surprised back then, not knowing I'll be engaged."

"I knew about it though, my father told me about it first"

With a look of surprise, Kagami felt betrayed for being the only one who didn't know it back then.

"Well I also didn't think that i'll fall in love with the little girl who acted like a squirrel"

"Why a squirrel?"

With a blink, she tilted her head, earning a chuckle from him.

"Cause you kept hiding be it behind your father, or the wall. You were so fidgety and cute"

With a pout, she hit his chest and it only made him laugh harder.

"What about you, you were just acting cool the whole time. Soichiro-niisan used to tell me how you would always look for me when I wasn't there, then you'd whine cuz you kept losing in from of me because you didn't wa-ouch!"

Soshiro pinched her uninjured cheek to stop her from saying any further. The pout on his face telling her she succeeded in teasing him back.

"I never believed it back then but I do now!"

She tried to run away from him but failed as she still caged in his hold. She could only laugh at this moment, her laughter resonating with him as they look at each other with much love.

.

.

.

"Do you want to know why I asked you to come here?"

They just spend the time in each other's arms, knowing full well that they didn't want to leave yet. And that there's still something that needed to be addressed and he's just waiting for her to talk.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to"

Soshiro respects her decision as he knew thinking about it gives her pain. With much contemplation, Kagami finally spoke.

"My father..." Kagami bit her tongue.

"He wanted to break of our engagement"

Today must've been a day of surprises as his eyes widened for the nth time. He gently pushed Kagami away from him to look at her.

"I told him I didn't want to and..."

She touched her cheek, that was previously swollen but now only sported a bruise. Soshiro knew what that meant.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to"

"It's fine. I want to tell you"

She shook her head as she made up her mind to tell him the truth, the whole truth.

"It's long story. Will you listen?"

Soshiro nodded his head, giving him her full attention. But before that...

"Why don't we go somewhere else first. So you can do it comfortably?"

<- Previous Next ->

[iskratempestmadness]

A few facts about the characters of "Baki the grappler"

Characters: Baki, Hanayama, Katsumi, Jack, Retsu.

Baki

Food

- it may seem that he prefers something simple, but he doesn't mind trying unusual food combinations. According to the type of ice cream with French fries.

- traditional Japanese cuisine on weekdays and fast food on weekends. He likes to treat himself to a big burger on Saturday night. Although he will have to work hard afterwards to get himself back in shape.

- has a neutral relationship with alcohol. He can drink during the holiday, but usually tries to abstain.

Leisure

- you can't tell from him, but he reads quite a lot, although he can't be called a bookworm. He definitely likes manga and comics, as well as something light from Japanese classics. He reads to relax, so he doesn't want to strain his brain.

- he likes to play board games. He is quite experienced in them, but in some cases, fortune does not favor him.

- walking in the fresh air. As I said, he just wants to relax, so contemplating nature is perfect for that. He likes the prospect of going somewhere to the countryside and staying there to live.

Moment:

It was early in the morning, when the city had not yet had time to wake up. The young man was sitting on a bench in the park, which was close to his house. Despite the fact that summer had already arrived, it was quite cool outside, but the young man did not seem to notice this. Hanma has been visiting this place quite often lately. Perhaps it was here that he could fully relax. His thoughts were confused, like the thoughts of a man who had just woken up, he was thinking about everything and at the same time about nothing. However, he noticed all the peculiarities of his environment. For example, he noticed that the birds were calling to each other today more briskly than usual, and also that this morning was warmer than yesterday, but it was still a little cool for summer... He liked it... And he also liked to have such a carefree time... This is the kind of environment he wants to spend his life in...

Hanayama:

Food

is mmmm... He loves Japanese fast food. You know, quick fried meat in batter with vegetables and various sauces. Or udon in a small but cozy eatery. But he needs really big portions.

- he also likes traditional Japanese dishes, but he prefers not to eat them too often.

- Alcohol? He is an expert in this. It may seem that he drinks only strong drinks, but he is also very well versed in the lungs. Hana also belongs to the type of people who drink and do not get drunk.

Leisure

- naturally, he spends a lot of time in bars. He knows all the bars in Tokyo. And he wrote a review for each, all the pros and cons of the institution were taken into account. He finds this way of spending time very entertaining.

- he likes to play billiards when he has free time. And he's pretty good at it. Despite his size, he is adept at this.

- fishing. Ohhh, he's a pro at this. And how else can you call a man who went to a shark with his bare hands? But even in less extreme conditions, he finds pleasure in fishing.

Moment:

A hard day. This is perhaps the most plausible description of what happened today. There are so many issues that need to be resolved "urgently", so many people who do not understand what they want from him... It exhausted him. His head was throbbing violently, preventing him from concentrating...What was he thinking about? Yes, there's nothing to talk about.Hana was in the very state when a person's mind is filled with various short memories that have no connection with each other...And he didn't have a single sensible thought in his head. He lit a cigarette as usual. And he himself did not understand how he ended up where he is now. It was one of the idzkai he frequented...Heh, perhaps this really was the best option to relax. The young man sat down at the counter and waited for his order... and for some reason, he was already feeling better now. My head didn't hurt so much anymore, and there was no annoying carousel of memories. Hana waited for his order and to his delight, the food really helped him. In some cases, even such small things can make you feel better.

Katsumi:

Food

- HOMEMADE FOOD. To give Natsue her due, she cooks beautifully, so Katsumi's favorite food is homemade food. He doesn't even have a preference, he just loves it and he'll eat whatever they give him.

- he also likes strange food combinations. He is always ready to try something new, but he already has his favorite combinations. I can assume that this is watermelon and feta cheese or popcorn with hot sauce

- relationship with alcohol... Well, he only drinks on holidays, but Katsumi doesn't know the measure. If he drinks, he gets completely drunk. He doesn't know the measure at all.

Leisure

- bowling. He just likes this kind of leisure activity. And he became almost a master at it.

- he likes to sing and not only in the shower. Therefore, one of his favorite ways to spend time is karaoke. He might not be a brilliant singer himself, but he puts his whole soul into it.

- cooking. In this, perhaps, it cannot be said that he is a great master, but he really likes to learn this. He was already delighting himself with a couple of simple dishes. However, it should be noted that his dishes are a little overcooked.

Moment:

He decided to put himself under stress again. There was no other way he could have called it. Of course he liked cooking, but what was happening was terrible. The heated oil splashed in all directions, he spilled something on the floor, broke a couple of plates, and a mountain of dishes in the sink was waiting for him. Is it not a horror? Nevertheless, Katsumi was determined that he would cook this dish. Why didn't he go the easier way? Why didn't you just order what you wanted? After all, he could have asked Natsueh to cook this dish, why didn't he? There were several reasons. First, he liked it. Yes, despite what was happening, he still enjoyed cooking. And he didn't expect a good result at all, he just enjoyed the process. The second is his stubbornness. Is something wrong with him? So what, he will do it as many times as it takes for a decent result. It's a challenge for him. It's a tough call. He had to sweat a lot, but... God, he was really glad... The food was good. But as usual, it is slightly peppered.

Jack:

Food

really has no preferences. All that can be eaten is food for him.

- however, he highlights the Canadian cuisine. After all, this is his native kitchen. One of his favorite dishes is cream cake and "nanaimo"

- attitude to alcohol? Mmmm... Given his lifestyle, we can say that he does not drink at all. But sometimes when he can't sleep, Jack will drink a glass of tincture, but no more. Most likely, he will be able to put tinctures.

Leisure

- He likes to swim. This is an ideal way for him to practice and relax. Besides, he is fond of diving. (So it's ideal for him if he lives somewhere near the sea or a deep lake. This is one of his dreams.)

- he can play the guitar. Despite the fact that he trains almost all the time, he also finds time to practice it. His game is at the amateur level, but it's also not bad.

- What is it? Just like Bucky, he can't be called a bookish character, but he has a couple of bookshelves. Jack prefers little-known works by popular authors. And his favorite genres of books can be called detective and fiction.

Moment:

Quiet. It's late in the evening, it's about one or two in the morning. The noise of the city is no longer audible, only the quiet rustle of leaves and the occasional rumble of water. The atmosphere is wonderful... However... The young man had not been able to sleep for about two hours and it began to bother him. Instead of lying on the bed, he could have done something more useful with a light... well, or at least interesting. Reading was perfect. Jack sat up in bed, turned on the lamp, picked up a book lying on one of the bedside tables and plunged into one of those most amazing worlds that are considered fiction or a fairy tale, and call it fiction. Hanma was quite picky about literature, although he didn't read much. But this book was really interesting to him. Why? Perhaps it was an interesting plot, or curious descriptions of the area, or dialogues of the characters, or... Why guess? Jack liked this book because he could use it to distract himself. There was no hint of the real world in it. Not once in the entire book has there been a hint of problems that were in the real world. And the young man didn't think it was a bad thing. On the contrary, he liked it. It brought lightness, calmness and calmness to his life... Perhaps... A little bit of happiness...

Retsu:

Food

is Chinese cuisine. To say that he loves her will not be enough... He RESPECTS her. He respects her all. From dishes in street eateries to home cooking.

- Japanese cuisine is in second place after Chinese cuisine for him. However, he is extremely critical of her. Retsu tries to eat right, so he carefully monitors what he eats.

- does Retsu drink? Exclusively on holidays. But if there is an opportunity, he will refrain from doing so. He really doesn't like alcohol.

Leisure

- cooking. And he's a pro at it. He has been cooking since childhood, he has a wealth of experience and his knowledge in cooking is still being replenished. He read a lot of books on cooking and watched a huge number of programs on this topic. He is completely enlightened, as it might seem. However, he claims that he still has a lot to grow.

- reading. But he can be called a bookworm. He read everything from classics to manga. And this made him extremely selective in the collection of works. For Retsu, the book is needed not only to relax or distract himself, but also to rethink life. The book is a source of wisdom for him.

- he is fond of photography. And in this he is at the beginner stage. But he learns fast. He likes to photograph animals and plants. He also likes to shoot landscapes.

Moment:

"Yes, this is what we need... This kind of view definitely needs to be captured." This was the first thought that came to Retsu's mind. And the scenery was really spectacular. Mount Fuji. The height is 3776. And it's amazing. The young man was really happy despite the cold and the long journey. Taking out his camera, Retsu started taking pictures... huh... Amazingly... But the camera did not transmit even a tenth of the landscape... However, the footage was amazing. Retsu didn't have much experience in photography, he was still a beginner. How did he come to this? Why photos? Everything is simple. There have been changes in it. Let's just say his mindset has changed. The young man seemed to rethink his life... And I made a conclusion. He needs to slow down. Pay a little more attention to his environment. Watch the world more. That's why he chose photography. With his help, Retsu had the opportunity to forever contemplate what he had captured.

I don't think I'll pull part 2, heh.

[popponn]

as classmates, it starts. [nagi seishiro x f!reader]

note: a.n. at the end. still in nagi phase, yes. warning: none, just the start of classmate to something pipeline in slice of life esque kind of approach. fluff.

It was by coincidence you ended up in the same high school and class with Nagi Seishiro again, after sharing the last three years in middle school with him too.

If the two of you were close, you would call it fate. But you only spoke to him nine times, with his total spoken words probably only counting up to 20 words or less in total. It was funny how few of them were despite the years the two of you spent around each other, in a way, so you remembered them. If anything, this is truly a textbook example of ‘meaningless happenstances’.

In each interaction, it was the same story being repeated. You, the designated class representative for 3 years in row, was needed to talk with Nagi Seishiro, the kind of problem child who kept sleeping in the class. It was the classic scene of the teacher pet with scholarship being ordered to ask, remind, or give something to the lazy boy.

In mangas, these kind of interaction would usually let to romance or friendship, at least. The romantic in you pitied the fact that Nagi was probably too lazy for that. Meanwhile, the realist in you accepted that as an unsurprising fact with how different the two of you were.

With that, one thing remained as a constant—both you and him simply exist as each other’s background characters.

And then, the tenth time happened.

Inside Hakuho where the elites reign, without any surprise you faded into the background. You were simply smart, but too plain and boring. Thus, the curse of being the class representative for three consecutive years was broken. It was refreshing and felt like a graduation from something.

On the tenth time, you were not a student with responsibilities. You were simply a student who left the class a bit too late for no particular reason.

Three seats towards your back, two seats to the left, Nagi Seishiro slept on his desk yet again. A book stood upright in poor attempt to cover his habit that was well known within the school despite it only being the first month of the first year. You spared yourself a few seconds to watch him slept before looking away, chuckling inside at the familiarity.

Three years ago, you once thought he was a waste of good brain and good face. But after spending three years with him, perhaps you got an immunity for whatever miracle or antics he pulled.

Perhaps, that was why, at that moment, you simply thought that he really didn’t change after all these years.

Perhaps, that was why you gathered your belongings to your back and walked towards the door in the back of the class, thinking to shake Nagi awake as a good long-time classmate. An act of mindless kindness. When you arrived beside him and was about to touch his shoulder, your eyes strayed towards his phone.

It was unlocked and muted, displaying a familiar sight of a mobile game doing an auto run. It was a game you played religiously since its launch a year ago. Without much time spent, you recognized the boss you could only encounter after a far progression into the middle part of the game and a new character with a DPS you managed to get to 10000 easily yesterday.

Then, you saw a meager 5000 thousand critical damage from said character and mindlessly, thoughtlessly, out of reflex you said, “Yikes. That build sure is terrible.”

It was a thoughtless comment, really.

Yet somehow, it was enough to wake up the sleeping prince himself. Your eyes glanced down and met Nagi Seishirou’s wide, grey one. Instantly, you thought, “Uh.”

Like a good child you were about to apologize, but not before Nagi said, “Huh. Really? That sucks.”

Then, as if foretelling an execution, he continued sleepily and pushed himself to stand slowly. Sleepy eyes unmoving from you, even as he stood fully with his slouching tall stature.

“What’s the good build then?”

a. notes: the idea is about 'two people who wouldn't interact but did' and the classic 'lazy guy and the tryhard student' but it went into the 'gaming buddies' direction, for some reason like 'hey maybe the tryhard student wants to rest and just play gacha games' while 'the lazy guy didn't want to get his build commented on like that because he is secretly competitive and more than what meet the eyes'. then it goes 'oh. being with you is fun? and makes me happy?? why didn't we do this sooner? like three years ago?' and the rest i don't know. i also don't know what game they are playing here. clearly, due to a writing block it went nowhere. maybe one day i will revisited this idea again. think of this as a more polished blurb than my usual madman rambling from 2 am.