#yaaay i wrote

[tunastime]

A Gear of the Heart, Starting

just a little something I wrote for somebody's (@shepscapades) birthday back in November :3 after I asked what etho and bdubs would've been like shortly after etho's deviation. this is the few times before last life where bdubs realizes etho might be a good friend, and how their relationship changes. comes right before A Gear of the Heart, Turning! (4653 words)

Etho remembers quite a bit.

He remembers the ricochet of the explosion through his left side. He remembers a dozen errors across his vision, showing every unit damaged by the blast, the fractals of fracturing snaking up his arm, the shattered remains of his central programming lingering like a livewire. 

Over and over he can remember the pitch of Bdubs’ voice and had to wonder his own diagnosis at that moment. Bdubs watching his android die in his name—he remembers that, too. Bdubs didn’t even ask for that. It was something Etho gave to him. He’s not sure he could even say why, either. 

It remained a bitter flavor he couldn't identify, even as Xisuma assured him he was okay. Something had happened then, sitting on that floor, thirium in hand. Some movement in his chest he couldn’t place. It wasn’t anything physical, but it felt like some gear of his nonexistent heart had started, turned—rotated. And all he could do was ask himself why. What’s he supposed to do with that?

He doesn’t know. Fine. 

Etho goes back to work at someone’s request. Not even his own request, either, so he has to wonder if maybe Doc put him up to it. Him being Bdubs. Him being Bdubs who shifted back and forth on his feet at Etho’s door—a facade of a base in the process of being designed. If one could even call it a base, yet.

And even though he was increasingly certain that Bdubs had been told to ask—and Etho asked him if he’d been asked to help, and he was adamant about asking by himself, that’s what he said. He said: “You think I gotta be told to ask people for help? I can’t just be doin’ things on my own?” and it had felt so much like doublespeak that Etho didn’t even fight to differentiate his tone. 

But Bdubs had asked if he wanted to help with the horse course. Terraforming—it should be right up his alley, if he’s still into that kind of stuff. Figured he was the expert—or so it goes. Etho had nodded. He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do. He supposes he could have easily said no. 

But every part of him yearned to say yes.

So he did.

The dust sifts through his fingers.

Etho perches in the grass, partially hunched as he leans over his line of redstone, shrouded by the hill half-built around him. He’d spent most of the week prior carving out the lines of the track, setting posts for buildings, laying out blueprints for Bdubs to finalize. Today, he lays his line meticulously, dust shifting in his hands. They still shake a bit—nothing a human would notice, nothing that disrupted the flow of his lines, but the overworked gears still shifted in protest as he worked. He could see the faded overlay of the project in his vision if he focused. It crackled, slightly blue-yellow, orange glowing indicators where action was needed, where there were mistakes to be corrected.

It isn’t his redstone to fix. The lines under his hands were—freshly laid by his near-expert technique—but the deeper lines, noteblock announcements, droppers, doorgates, the flourish of the house course, weren’t. Etho smooths out the line he was standing near with his thumb. 

There was nothing wrong with the laid redstone, really. It’s just. Well. It’s not even. It takes up so much space. It lacks the efficiency and tidiness he practiced to a precision. It radiated Bdubs in an overpowering way, one that might turn a gear of the heart—one he didn’t have, of course. Etho’s lines are neat, rigid, conforming to his perfect mental map. 

He lets down his section of dust, drifting over to the dispenser system. He pushes a line further into place, brushing dust back from the side. Further on, where the line crosses, he readjusts it, he smooths them from start to end of line. His hands work where his mind recalculates, looking for errors along the redstone already laid out by Bdubs. Programs bubble up to assist; he dismisses a message, and another as he works. The line straightens from source to sink. 

As he passes, searching for another correction, he hears someone above him. In the corner of his vision, another message notification pings: from Bdubs.

They’re all from Bdubs, actually, now that he notices in full. He blinks, mouth twisting into a frown. Whoops.

He hears someone—Bdubs, he realizes, as he notes the fall of his feet, and the sigh he hops down from his horse, the shuffle of said horse, hooves on grass—clear their throat. Bdubs shuffles around as Etho moves back over to his finished redstone, dusting his hands on the sides of his pants. He lifts the small bag of dust, twisting the tie shut around his fingers as he travels back up the line to recheck the connections. 

“Etho?” Bdubs calls. Etho straightens, just on instinct alone, glancing up at the stretch of sky he can see. It’s bright blue, barely dotted with clouds, and the grass looks warm with sun. He fixes where the dust starts as he sections off the end, tossing the rest of the redstone over to his sling bag.

“Under the hill!”

Bdubs leans over the edge, tilting his head at Etho as he peers into the dark. It takes him a moment to find Etho’s face, partially obscured by black fabric and the fluff of wool around his collar. Etho tilts his head, raising his eyebrows.

“Did you need something?” he asks, arm hanging loosely by his side. Bdubs frowns, too, watching Etho’s expression. As his eyes seem to adjust to the dark, his gaze falls on the lines of redstone. He pauses there for a long moment. In that moment, Etho feels something in his chest grind, almost to a noticeable ache. If he could pull in a breath to settle it, he might have, but the sensation and minute sound passes as soon as he moves his hand to press flat against his regulator. Bdubs is gone when he looks up, reappearing only as he drops into the cavern, catching himself on the wall. He readjusts his cloak around his shoulders, shuffling into the low-light.

“Etho,” he says, still frowning. Etho looks him over. He watches Bdubs set his hands on his hips, but his heart rate stays even and his temperature level. The only thing that changes is the tone of his voice, fluctuating with a pattern Etho recognizes as forcing something. Bdubs takes a long breath in and lets it out. Etho’s eyes find the twitch of his fingers as he folds his arms, rather than the sharp curve of his mouth.

“Yes?” Etho asks. He feels his pump work a little harder. It kind of hurts still, whatever’s stopped working in his chest. He flicks his eyes, recalling a diagnostic, setting it to run in the background as he closes out of the overlays and the world returns to yellowish-grey. Bdubs is still frowning.

“You mind tellin’ me what’s wrong with this redstone?”

Etho blinks. The diagnostic comes up clear.

“What do you mean?” he says, his expression shifting into something copying amusement. He’s trying. He’s at least trying to mimic the emotions he sees. Soon enough it’ll feel natural, he’s certain. “What’s wrong with it?”

Bdubs snorts, which turns into a laugh, which turns into Etho smiling a bit wider, a bit more confusion lingering in his expression as he leans around Bdubs to check his meticulously placed line. Bdubs turns away from him, facing the system, the clock that linked the start gates to the timer below.

“What’s—” Bdubs scoffs, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with it? Etho—” he holds out his hand, waving Etho over. Etho lingers at his shoulder as he steps forward, peering over the curve of it and the moss and small leaves and flowers draped over his neck. “It’s too perfect.”

Etho makes a sound like a scoff now, a caught sound in his vocal unit, a stuttering start to his sentence that doesn’t form right away. He’s trying for surprise, the pitch of his voice rising unexpectedly.

“It’s too perfect?” he asks. 

Bdubs nods. After a moment, Etho thinks he sees his expression shift, the high of his cheek rising. When Bdubs turns his head to look at him, just for a second, Bdubs is smiling.

“Bdubs,” Etho says, sighing, turning away from him, to his bag on the far side of the room. He shakes his head. That something-nothing in his chest flutters and fades and disappears all at once, instead replaced with the urge to smile back. Bdubs laughs, and Etho can imagine him tipping his head back, mouth curved up as he giggles to himself. Etho shakes his head. As he starts to pull away from Bdubs, he feels him catch his sleeve, holding fast to his elbow.

“Etho, wait—” Bdubs giggles. “It looks really good.”

Etho raises his eyebrows. Caught in Bdubs grasp, all he can do is look at him, head tilted, trying not to let the amusement show on his face. Bdubs giggles, face breaking again as he does.

“Etho…” he tries again, fighting back a smile. Etho tilts his head the other way, as if to prompt him further, looking for anything. He stays silent. Bdubs hand lowers slowly, that smile faltering just a fraction. Maybe he thinks Etho’s upset with him. There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “You gonna say anythin’? Or you just gonna stand there?”

Etho smiles, finally. He shrugs a little, glancing over at the fixed lines of redstone.

“I fixed your redstone,” he says cooly, sticking his free hand in his pocket. Bdubs blinks. He jerks away as Etho’s smile grows, shoving him hard in his shoulder. Etho wobbles for a moment, smiling to himself, scrunching up his face as Bdubs’ expression morphs. He does laugh, after a beat, poking Etho in the shoulder as he does. Etho hopes he can see the smile in his eyes. He saves, logs, keeps this moment. He’s sure in the low light that his LED spins yellow for a moment. It feels right. If there’s any feeling to catalog.

Bdubs huffs. Etho thinks he hears him say something under his breath. It sounds a lot like thank you.

It’s out of habit, rather than obligation, that Etho finds himself back at the horse course. Of course he ends up here, his feet moving him about as if his brain-not-brain had no thoughts of its own. Man. Some days, it really felt human.

He wanders across the plain, eyes lingering on fully-built buildings, knowing the schematics and plans, watching as those plans-now-buildings stretched higher above his head, where they nearly threatened to pop the sky wide open. 

Bdubs had sat down with him earlier that week, papers spread out between them. He’d stopped by, actually—worked his way up the mountain to the base Etho had finally finished, papers in hand, looking like he was on the verge of collapse. He’d dropped the blueprints on the largest table Etho had managed to clear, spreading out the designs for huge, complex buildings. Etho watched him explain, listened for the inflection of when to offer suggestions, heard the way Bdubs’ voice grew quieter, almost conspiratorial, as he explained his palette. There was something methodical in the way Bdubs spoke, not only in the approach to his colors, but to his style. As much as it seemed eclectic and strange, he watched the pieces fall together as Bdubs spoke of his gradients. There was something deeper there, a precision that Etho, all of a sudden, in that room, craved to emulate. To write to disk. To save. To do more than just copy. 

He’d built the horse stable first—all to his own specifications. It was Bdubs later who came in to detail, tilling up the dirt around to plant grass and flowers, sectioning off parts of the empty stable. It was almost difficult to compartmentalize that Bdubs was finished with it now. That they’d worked each line of the redstone and Etho had supervised the first steps of building, and now he could look up and see the very top, or almost, if he were to strain, of the spikes above the buildings. 

And in just a few weeks, Bdubs was onto another project. Etho smiles to himself. He can’t help it. There was something rather comforting about that. Something about Bdubs dragging him along to help, pointing him toward the thing he was good at, and asking for help. Bdubs showing up at his door with plans. Bdubs cracking jokes with him, and looking for a laugh Etho couldn’t replicate yet. It’s like something clicked. Or was just on the breach of it. And Etho liked it.

Etho clears his field of view, taking in, instead, the stretch of sky where it met the ocean, along the line of hills and grass and flowers, and further still, to the smudge that looked like Bdubs. He blends in too well—the green of his coat barely noticeable against the field of grass that splayed out from the side of his build. There were still materials strewn about—chests half opened, shulkers stacked waist high. 

Bdubs stands to the side of a dark grey and white horse, one hand placed on its nose, the other digging through his bag. Etho watches for a moment. Bdubs fishes around for that entire second that he lingers, searching for something, until he pulls out an apple. Another falls to the ground, rolling away from him. He holds out the fruit for the horse as Etho clears his throat. 

“Hiya, Bdubs—” he says as Bdubs startles, twisting around to see him. He huffs, an immediate frown coming to his face. Bdubs turns to fetch the dropped apple, holding it high above his head as the grey horse nudges its nose into his empty hand. He pats it instead.

“Etho,” he says, tone thin. He sighs, shaking his head. “Scared the life outta me, you know that? You gotta make some noise when you’re walkin’ around.”

Etho smiles, a nice and easy reaction to the annoyance in Bdubs’ voice. It’s getting easier. At least a bit. The smiling part, that is. The inflection that comes with being happy.

“I’ll try next time,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. His hands find his pockets as he looks around, eyes following the path around the buildings. He’s sure the pollen and moss will be stuck to his clothes for days before he gets them out.

“Mm,” Bdubs hums, unconvinced. “I’m sure you will. Now, what’re you doin’ here? You don’t have anything better to do?”

“That’s a good question,” Etho says.

Bdubs turns back to him for a second, just a glance over his shoulder as he cocks his head to the side. He raises his eyebrows before he turns back to the horse, who’s started to nose at his bag. He drags his hand down its nose.

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t have an objective right now?”

“I never have an objective, Bdubs.”

Bdubs snorts again . Etho steps over, slow, minding the horse. It sniffs as Etho holds out his hand, nosing his gloved palm. He pats the horse's nose, somewhat stilted, smoothing over the soft bridge of his nose.

“Right,” Bdubs hums. When Etho glances over to him, Bdubs glances away, as if he’d lingered as Etho stepped over. He’s not moved from Etho’s side, which. Makes something fit into Etho’s chest in a way he isn’t expecting. He rests his hand on the horse's head, looking over at Bdubs in full.

“I can’t come see how the horse course is looking, now that you’re done?” he asks. Bdubs makes an embarrassed sounding noise, watching the rise of the buildings to their left. The horse sniffs, and Etho lifts his hand away, letting it fall to his side.

“I—I got excited about it,” Bdubs mutters. If Etho leans enough, he can see the beginnings of a flush creep over his cheeks, up the shell of his ear. Something about that, too. Etho looks beyond him, though, studying the rise of the buildings as Bdubs does. He nods to himself.

“I can tell,” he says, amusement slipping into his voice, almost naturally. Immediately, Bdubs whips around again, face twisted in offense.

“Hey!” he snaps. “You makin’ fun of me?”

Etho shakes his head, spreading his hands out in front of him as he does.

“No, no. Not at all,” he says, hoping the smile he’s giving is reaching his eyes. “I’m saying we make a pretty good team.”

Bdubs makes a little huff of a sound, but his posture and expression softens. Etho studies it from the moment it appears, trying to place the emotion behind it. He seems upset—but not from anything Etho said. He almost looks guilty.

“We’ve always made a good team,” Bdubs mumbles. Etho blinks.

“Since when have we been a team?”

“Since—s…” Bdubs blurts, then backtracks, folding his arms over his chest. “Well we’re a team now!”

Etho raises his eyebrows, stepping away from the horse and more around Bdubs’ side. He leans in a bit as he stands by his side, bumping their shoulders together. Bdubs doesn’t recoil. Instead, he pushes back, just for a moment, and they jostle. Bdubs hums, sighing through his nose.

“Are we?” Etho asks. Bdubs nods, short and firm.

“Mhm! ‘Cause I said so.”

Etho nods with him. There’s that thing again, a turning, jostling, in some part of his chest that really shouldn’t turn or jostle. He can feel his temperature tick up just a few degrees, a fan kicking on to settle the temperature, thirium sludging warm to cold through his limbs. A team, huh? He couldn’t beat Bdubs’ conviction, that’s for sure. Maybe it was a bit of guilt, then. Maybe something in Bdubs had realized Etho was much more of a help than a hindrance. Maybe Bdubs wanted a friend. Maybe he just felt bad and the feeling bad got to a point where he had to just do something about it. Etho didn’t know. He didn’t live inside Bdubs’ brain. And picking at Bdubs’ every emotion was a task enough to drive his processor into the ground. He could already feel another spike in temperature, LED glowing yellow-blue. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. Etho sticks his hands in his pockets.

“I’d like that,” he says, finally pushing out the words as his programming jumps into gear, “What’s our next project then?”

Bdubs goes back to jostling him before he turns away, moving from Etho’s side to collect his horse. Gathering the horse's reins in his hands, Bdubs pauses.

“Ooh…” he says, frowning a little. Etho watches the little furrow of his eyebrows—thinking. Bdubs is turning the idea over in his head. Bdubs steps back over with the horse in tow, already walking in the direction of the horse stable. Etho jolts forward, taking several big steps to match Bdubs’ pace. “Well why don’t you come back to the clock and we can talk about it, huh?”

“That sounds nice.”

Bdubs makes an affirmative sound, leading the horse around and into the stable. Etho watches him unlatch the gate, ushering the horse into the pen.

“I can put the kettle on and everything,” Bdubs says. He lifts the bridle out of the horse’s mouth, running his hand along the length of the horse’s nose. Etho doesn’t mean to watch him as he does, but the action is so purposeful. There’s a moment where Bdubs’ expression is unreadable—unreadable as in Etho simply can’t place anything on it. Unreadable in the amount it changes—something softer than he’s seen, something far away. Bdubs’ whole demeanor seems to shift as he stands still for a moment. Etho isn’t sure what to do with himself. He’s just standing in straw and dirt and stones, all of which he can feel under his shoes. He shuffles a bit, back and forth, to make his presence known, before he says:

“You know I can’t drink anything, Bdubs.”

And Bdubs rolls his eyes, squinting over at him, stepping away from the horse to hop the gate.

“Well you can at least fake it,” he grumbles. He folds his arms again, wrinkling his nose at Bdubs as Bdubs leads him out of the pen and into the open field around the horse course. The shadow of the buildings above them hasn’t changed, yet. The sun is still high and warm in the sky.

Etho laughs. At least, he makes a sound that he thinks passes as a laugh. Bdubs laughs too, though, so it must sound pretty convincing. He nods, the smile on his face feeling much more natural than he ever could have expected. 

“I could fake it,” he laughs. “Sure.”

Bdubs grins at him. It’s nice. It makes the walk back to his base a little more bearable.

By the time Etho gets his invitation to the life game, he’s grown accustomed to being at Bdubs’ side again. He wanders around Bdubs’ base like he knows it, makes it a spot he chooses to map, to memorize. Bdubs checks in on him when he isn’t around as much—asks him how his builds are going, wonders if he needs help. Bdubs lingers in his spaces too, like a plant trying to root, gives himself reasons to stand in doorways just a bit longer, just enough to extend their goodbyes. It feels right—in a way that almost gives reason to Etho’s deviation. Maybe, deep down, from their first introduction, Etho had decided to glue himself to Bdubs’ side and not become unstuck. Maybe he’d simply put that decision, his first ever decision, into motion that day. It didn’t matter much as to why anymore.

When Etho gets his letter, he doesn’t open it. He holds it between two fingers, turning it over and over. He doesn’t need to read it to know what it says. There’s a dark red seal on the back, shaped like a heart. He makes a little sound, some sort of click in the back of his mouth, before he stuffs the letter in his pocket, half-folded.

He finds Bdubs exactly where he expects. Bdubs is sitting cross-legged in his garden, hands in the dirt, when Etho arrives at the crescent moon base. If he looks closely enough, Etho can still tell that Bdubs’ own letter sits on his window sill in the kitchen, unopened. But he’s really squinting to notice, so he writes it off for now as a flaw in his own sight. 

Bdubs turns to him as he walks up. His hair is pushed back away from his face with his bandana, and his hands are covered in dirt, and he’s got a streak of black soil across his forehead that Etho tries not to look at for too long. Bdubs shoots him a toothy grin, going back to his bright orange tulips. If Etho looks long enough, he could probably guess the soil mixture, and tell him if it's good enough to be planting orange tulips in, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes to stand behind him and Bdubs hums in greeting.

“Etho,” he says, looking up again, wiping the dirt from his forehead. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothin’,” Etho says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He forgets who he picked the gesture up from, but it’s become part of his natural body language patterns now, so he won’t be stopping it anytime soon. “I just came to see how you were doing.”

“How I was doin’, huh?” Bdubs asks, amusement trickling into his voice. Etho smiles, feeling his face pull.

“Mhm,” he says. “That’s right. I can’t come and check up on a friend?”

Bdubs laughs, sticking his spade in the dirt.

“Oh, we’re friends now?” he says, still giggling as he turns around. “I thought we were just a team.”

Etho watches him lean back on his hands, legs coming out from under him. He tries to read Bdubs’ expression and voice for any note of insincerity, or play, or teasing, but doesn’t find anything he normally associates with Bdubs. This just feels true.

“I mean, I figured with how much we’ve been working together…” Etho starts, to which Bdubs startles, waving his hands.

“No, no!” Bdubs yelps. “Etho, I thought the same thing! I just wasn’t expectin’ it from you.”

Etho blinks. It feels owlish, small, almost a wrong reaction to hearing Bdubs say something like that. But it’s what immediately happens, before he tries to open his mouth, and no sound comes out. He waits for a moment. He assumes his LED spins, maybe even red, as Bdubs watches him, face paling.

“Oh,” Etho says quietly.

“We’re friends,” Bdubs says, voice much smaller than Etho’s ever heard it. “‘S that alright with you?”

Etho feels like the proper response would be to laugh, if he could really feel anything at all besides every gear in his chest halting and restarting themselves. He makes a noise that sounds almost like a cough.

“Mhm,” he says. He watches Bdubs’ shoulders relax and finds that his own posture sinks with it. 

“Good,” Bdubs says, nodding along. “Was there anything else you wanted to scare me with?”

Etho knows this tone—playful. Teasing. He works up a smile and fishes the letter from his pocket, slightly bent. Bdubs’ eyes flick right to it, right to the red seal pressed into the paper. Immediately, he scrambles up, reaching for the note in Etho’s hands. Etho lets him grab it in his dirt-covered fingers, even as Bdubs tries frantically to dust off his hands as he notices. Bdubs turns it over itself, glancing up at Etho.

“It’s for you?”

Etho nods.

“It was on my doorstep this morning,” he says. “I can see you’ve got one in your window?”

Bdubs snorts, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I haven’t opened the damn thing. I’m excited up until the point I’m not, ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose again.”

Etho hums. As Bdubs hands him back the letter, Etho rests his hand on his shoulder, giving it a hesitant, light squeeze. Bdubs looks quickly down at it, before he’s back to staring at Etho’s face.

“Don’t worry, Bdubs,” he says, hoping his voice is full of amusement and affection like he feels like it is. “You’ll have me there this time!”

And Bdubs laughs, full and warm in his chest, and Etho jostles him around as he does, until Bdubs is smacking his shoulder and wiggling free. He picks up his fallen hat and his tools, and Etho follows him around the side of the house as he puts things away. As he shuts one of the chest, Bdubs says:

“You mean that, though? You wanna be on a team?”

Etho smiles, feeling his eyes squint, forces every ounce of new feeling into his words when he says:

“I don’t think I wanna team with anyone else, Bdubs.”

And Bdubs’ grin in excitement is more than enough to convince him he’s made the right choice.

It’ll be a long two weeks until the death game starts. When he returns home later that night, Bdubs’ plans for success turning over in his brain, recording for later, Etho reads over the letter enough to commit the page to memory. He keeps it safe internally as the letter finds its way to his bookshelf, half-sealed. Through him, like it’s just under the skin, runs an emotion he’s not yet familiar with. He hopes it's a good one, at the very least. He hopes so, as much as an android, a machine, someone just now familiar with the idea of free will, can hope. 

It feels good, though. And something makes him think that everything will turn out just fine.

[peachversace]

feed the beast - gojo satoru

He’s insatiable.

You can see it in his eyes — Satoru wants to ruin you.

[milkbreadtoast]

fluffy golden hair prince...

[grokebaby]

Ayooo what if I WROTE something yaaaa

[rhyme-tyme]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Hollow Knight (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Original Hollow Knight Character(s), The Pale King (Hollow Knight), Vessels (Hollow Knight), White Lady (Hollow Knight), Broken Vessel | Lost Kin, Greenpath Vessel (Hollow Knight), The Knight (Hollow Knight) Additional Tags: Custom Lore, Stuff Happens for sure, My First Fanfic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Some Vessels choose pronouns and some don't, Barely anyone from the actual games shows up but they do show up later on, vessels dying you know how it is Series: Part 1 of Tales From The Undergrowth Summary:

You've heard the tales of the Hollow Knight and Other Distant Tales, But there is so much more to this world, Allow me to show you my stories I've collected over my time in this life.

I am the Chronicler. Keeper of Knowledge and in time i will tell you stories of Great heroes and Kindhearted Scoundrel's

But First i'll ease you in with something familiar, Stories of the Pale Wyrms Spawn and their adventures around this world.

[object-yaoi]

OBJECTUM COURIER WIN

YEAAAGGGHH BABY

[cornybunbun]

Summary

Under the gaze of the Bone Tower, all are equal. Human, Demon, Fae... Death does no discriminate.

Sebastian has a job to do: he is to infiltrate the Human Realm and find out the source of their magic. The easiest way to get access to the Human Realm is by arranging a marriage and then seducing the human pitiful enough to be bound to him.

However, on his wedding night Sebastian finds himself collared by a child with magic burning in his eye and contempt written across his face. Now he is Ciel Phantomhive's dog, and although he wants to carry out his job for the Demon Realm he finds himself entranced by the way his new husband commands him to kneel

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[juliennevalery]

idea: giving joost a blowie

shoutout to you, anon because now I know that my brain still works and have ability to write, yaaay! I think I deserve a can of dr pepper rn, so yeah, enjoy this small something I wrote y’all <3

Like that

synopsis: You will never let go of the chance to go down on your boyfriend, even if a bit tipsy at party.

genre: suggestive themes, fluff

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

pairing: Joost Klein x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, blowjob m!receiving, kissing

A drink sits in your hand, tiny droplets dripping over your fingers, but you’re not paying attention to it. The bass thrums through the floor, the vibrations sinking into your chest. You nod along to whatever your best friend is saying, feigning interest, but your focus keeps drifting anyway.

Across the room, Joost lounges on a sofa, legs spread wide, one arm slung lazily over the backrest, the other bringing a beer to his lips. He looks too good. The kind of good that has no business existing in dim lighting, in a crowded room filled with the smell of spilled liquor and cheap cologne. His blond hair is tousled in that effortlessly messy way, the kind that looks like someone’s fingers have already been in it. And then there’s that smirk, the one that sends heat licking up your spine and has your thighs pressing together before you even realize what you’re doing.

You swallow. It doesn’t help.

The easy way he laughs at something one of the guys says, the slow tilt of his head, the way his tattooed fingers drum absently against his knee—it all makes your mind wander specifically, to the thought of being on your knees for him.

"Are you even listening to me, or did you go completely dumb just from looking at him?"

You blink, inhaling sharply, like that will somehow clear your head. It doesn’t.

Your fingers twitch toward your purse, already itching for your phone. You could text him something, just a few words, something that would have him shifting in his seat, jaw clenching, eyes searching for you. But when you turn your head, your bestie is already staring at you, unimpressed. Her expression is a mixture of knowing and disgusted.

You flash her your most innocent, drunken smile, wordlessly apologizing.

"I’m listening now, aren’t I?" You shift onto your other heeled leg, bringing your drink to your lips.

"Yeah, sure you are," she mutters, narrowing her eyes before sighing dramatically. "I’m gonna go, because I am not about to stand here and witness whatever horny telepathic conversation you two are about to have."

You barely register her words.

Joost laughs at something, his head tipping back just slightly, exposing the sharp angle of his jaw. His fingers—those long, perfect fingers—tap against the neck of his beer bottle, and fuck, you’re spiraling again.

Your mind is already miles away, picturing those same fingers twisted in your hair, gripping just right as you take him into your mouth. You can practically hear the way his breath would hitch, the way his voice would drop into that low, strained groan when you tease him just enough before taking him deeper—

Your thighs press together.

You need him. Now.

Your hand is already in your purse, fingers fumbling for your phone. Before you can even hesitate, before you can second-guess whether this is a good idea, it’s too late — your manicured fingers tap out a text and hit send.

Fuck.

Wanna suck u so bad rn.

sent.

From the corner of your eye, you watch as he pulls his phone from his pocket. His brows lift slightly, and then there it is. That little knowing smirk.

His gaze flicks up, scanning the room, searching, until his eyes finally land on yours.

And the second they do, you feel it.

The way his pupils darken. The way his lips part slightly, like he’s already imagining it. Like he’s already decided.

Then, without a word, he claps one of his friends on the shoulder, mutters something under his breath, and stands up.

Your breath catches. Your heart pounds.

You bite your lip, turn on your heel, and slip through the crowd toward the bathroom.

The moment you reached the door your already feel him on your back, locking door behind, and the second you turn around he’s already on you.

His hands slide around your waist, gripping tight as he backs you into the sink. The cold porcelain presses against your lower back, but all you can feel is him—the heat radiating off his body, the sharp edge of his belt buckle grazing your stomach, the way his breath fans against your cheek, warm and wanting.

He doesn’t kiss you. Not yet.

Instead, he just looks at you.

It’s the kind of stare that makes your skin prickle, that sends a slow burn through your belly straight between your thighs. His gaze trails down to your parted lips, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your thighs shift together, seeking friction. Then, his eyes flick back up, darkened, hazy with need just like yours.

“You’ve got a real bad habit of texting me shit like that at the worst possible times.” he murmurs, voice low and rough from drinking, his lips curling just slightly at the corners. He’s teasing, but there’s a tightness in his jaw, in the way his fingers flex against your hips, like he’s barely keeping himself from losing control.

Your lips twitch into a smirk, hands sliding up his chest, your fingers grazing the open buttons of his shirt. His skin is feverish beneath your touch, muscles tensing under your palms.

“Can’t help that you’re looking so good tonight.” you whisper, eyes flicking up to meet his.

Joost exhales sharply, a short, breathy laugh that sounds dangerously close to breaking because he knows that look you give him. That doe eyes you make only when you’re tipsy or you want something. “You’re killing me, you know that, right?”

He shifts closer, pressing against you fully, letting you feel just how hard he is beneath his jeans.

A shiver rolls down your spine, anticipation knotting tight in your stomach. You tilt your chin up, teasing, pushing him.

“Don’t die yet, I need you alive for this one, yeah?” you murmur, lips barely brushing his jaw as you slide down to his neck to bite him in that one place you know will fold him down.

His fingers tighten on your waist, hard.

“You talk too fucking much, think we should use that for something else now, right? ” he mutters lowly while sliding his hands down your body.

Then, he drags his fingers up your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his palm warm and deliberate as he cups you over your panties. His smirk deepens when he feels how soaked you already are.

“Fuck, schatje,” he mutters, voice husky. “You’re dripping.”

A quiet gasp slips past your lips when he presses his fingers against your clit, rubbing just enough to make you ache. He leans in, lips grazing the shell of your ear, as he whispers.

"That desperate for me, baby?"

You exhale sharply, frustration bubbling up in your chest.

“Stop playing with me,” you whisper.

That’s all he needs.

Joost’s hands are on your shoulders, guiding you down, pushing you to your knees so slowly, so deliberately, that you swear you’re about to fall apart before he even touches you properly.

"You wanted this so bad?" His voice is lower now, rougher, dripping with satisfaction as he watches you sink in front of him. “Let me see how much, c’mon.”

Your fingers reach for his belt, undoing it with practiced ease, working open his jeans, pulling them just low enough to free his cock. He’s already hard, already aching, and the moment your fingers wrap around his shaft his breath stutters, a sharp inhale that makes your skin prickle with anticipation.

"Fuck," he mutters, head tipping back slightly as you stroke him, slowly dragging your thumb over the already red tip. His grip tightens in your hair, not pushing, not guiding—just holding, just feeling you.

You glance up through your lashes, smirking before flicking your tongue over the tip, tasting him, teasing just to watch him twitch in your grasp. His thighs tense under your touch, his other hand bracing against the sink, like he needs to hold onto something or he’s going to completely unravel.

"Don’t fucking tease," he warns, voice strained. “Not tonight.”

You hum in amusement but obey.

You take him into your mouth, slow at first, letting him feel every inch of your tongue, every shift, every deliberate motion.

His reaction is immediate.

"Fuck, baby—"

A rough, broken groan leaves him, his fingers tightening in your hair as his hips jerk forward involuntarily. You can feel the tension in his thighs, the way his muscles flex every time you suck him down just a little more. His breath turns uneven, his body coiled tight.

You glance up, watching the way his brows knit together, the way his lips part slightly, his chest rising and falling in short with heavy breaths and how his head tilts back in pleasure. When his eyes finally meet yours, they’re wild, pupils blown wide, the sharp edge of his cockiness long gone.

"Please don’t stop," he mutters, voice rough, almost frustrated. “Fuck, don’t stop. ”

So you don’t. Instead you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks harder every time he hits the back of your throat, pushing him right to the edge, until his grip in your hair tightens almost desperately. You know he’s close, you can feel it in the way he thrusts uncontrollably into your mouth. His head falls back against the mirror, jaw clenched, a low, wrecked groan slipping past his lips. His hips stutter forward, and then—

He breaks.

His entire body shudders, his breath catching in his throat as he lets go, a string of curses in Dutch falling from his lips as he spills down your throat.

You swallow every drop, pulling back slowly after a while, not to overstimulate, you give his tip a small kiss as you watch his satisfied face.

For a long moment, Joost just stands there, breathing hard, fingers still tangled in your hair, but now affectionately massaging your scalp, almost like a sorry to your sore head after pulling so hard on them.

Then, he exhales a quiet, breathless laugh, shaking his head.

“I’m never going to a party with you again.” he mutters, voice still wrecked.

You smirk, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb as you stand up, smoothing your dress back down. “But now I have a way to sober up, how odd..” you giggle resting your head on his chest and closing your tired eyes.

Joost chuckles under his breath, shaking his head before his hands slide around your waist, pulling you close. His lips brush against your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

"Wanna go home and watch cartoons till we fall asleep?” he murmurs, his voice softer now, filled with pure affection.

„Yeah, we should do that.” Your voice is muffled against his shirt, but Joost still understands you.

He tilts your head up and presses one last kiss against your swollen lips before pulling back just enough to smirk down at you.

Oh, how you love this man.

[sadistpet]

     ❛ hm. useful. ❜

it is not natural, nor even common, for him to find himself in the company of the boss without some kind of other party involved. typically he would linger obediently at the colonel’s side, studious and silent, watching every moment with a dutiful gaze. it was a façade, of course — a pretty face is always disarming, unassuming, even when the beholder has blood on their hands ( or their teeth. ) his leg muscles always primed for movement, his fingers twitching for the trigger of his makarov.

the boss is american. defector or not, her blood runs star-spangled, and raikov cannot bring himself to believe in her supposed allegiance to their cause. the colonel would chide him if he knew, the same as he had when ivan had expressed such disdain and concern at the sudden appearance of sokolov's mistress. and it is that which keeps him silent.

ever glowering, he meets her gaze.

          ❛ ... stop looking at me like that. ❜

it comes snappier than he anticipates. eyes shadowed by the brim of his cap scan the woman before him top to toe, his upper lip curling in instinctual disgust. teeth only slightly bared, brow only fractionally wrinkled. he rolls his eyes, head following suit when icy blue irises meet the corners of his vision - mechanical, doll like.

     ❛ if you're looking for the colonel, you could just ask. he's — busy. ❜ his body shifts, straightens, hands linking behind his back with the subtle creak of leather, fingers gripping each other and cracking the bubbles of air between his joints. ❛ with her. tatyana. ❜ teeth grinding, jaw tense, he tries his best to focus his mind far away from what his lover could be doing with that whore. ❛ you're close with her, aren't you ? both defectors, anyway. ❜

@sadistpet : starter call , the boss !

❛ they're called the star of bethlehem, a type of lily. ornithogalum. ❜ it's mindless. wrinkled brow maintained with a prominent frown. gloved hand holds a singular one, spinning stem between index and thumb. movements are always done in just a way that makes her seem, sharper, more aware than others. in fact most wouldn't have heard the approach, but there's a reason she is, who she is after all.

❛ they're poisonous. ❜ gaze shifts, acknowledging the other finally. narrowing look as if to ask where volgin is. but she is a good soldier, doesn't act unless it will work in a way that is favorable to her. the flower is let go of, the more whimsical younger girl locked away within her would sentimentally watch it drift away. but she cannot spare that sort of vulnerability. not here.

[hunieday]

Osaka Sougo - Drama Collection vol.2 Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Osaka Sougo: Thank you for your hard work, Momo-san. And thank you so much for going out of your way to host a delicious catering lunch for us today despite your busy schedule.

Osaka Sougo: Thanks to you, I was able to focus even more during the shoot. I am once again very grateful. I will continue to do my best not to hold anyone back, so I look forward to your continued support.

Momo: Sougo~~ 😆🫶🫶 Thanks for the lovely rabbichat!!!!

Osaka Sougo: It’s nothing at all! You found it lovely…!?

Momo: It’s so Sougo-like that I could practically hear your voice through the screen, which is super lovely 🥺💕

Momo: Not only that, but you thanked me in person on set so you really didn’t have to go out of your way to send a message! ✨ I just wanted to enjoy some good food with you guys so don’t worry about it‼🥰

Osaka Sougo: Thank you for your kind words…! I wanted to properly express my gratitude, that’s why I wrote you a message.

Osaka Sougo: I think your rabbichats are wonderful as well. I can hear Momo-san's tender heart and gorgeous voice permeate through the letters.

Momo: Wonderful…? 🥺 ba-dum…

Osaka Sougo: Yes! It’s one of your many charms.

Momo: Does that mean you like me…? 🥺

Osaka Sougo: It might be a bit presumptuous of me to say, but yes!

Momo: Yaaay~~! 🫶 Momo-chan and Yuki will sandwich you and turn you all squishy! 💚💜🩷

Osaka Sougo: S-squishy…!? 

Osaka Sougo: I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness…! I’ll make sure to train my core regularly so that I can withstand any unexpected situations (being turned into a squishy mess for example).

Momo: Unexpected situations LMAOOO

Osaka Sougo: I respect Re:vale a lot after all…

Momo: You’re too cute, Sougo 🤩✨ I’m glad we could chat since our break times didn’t overlap today (*´艸｀) 💕

Momo: We mainly had Chinese food for today’s catering, what did you like the most? 🍜

Osaka Sougo: Everything was delicious, but if I had to choose one dish, I’d say the tantan soup (1)! Being able to choose the level of spiciness was fun.

Momo: Yours was super red though!? lolol

Osaka Sougo: Yes, I’d say it was about the same color as Scarlatto Veneziano.

Momo: What the hell my eyes just glazed over trying to read that lolololol

Osaka Sougo: It’s a reddish-orange! It may even resemble the color of a fully ripe persimmon.

Momo: Hoho…! Glad the catering was up to your tastes! The spice handle went from 1 to 10 🫣

Osaka Sougo: Yes…! I went with level 8.

Momo: 8!?!?!?

Momo: Wouldn’t your lips swell up from the spice and turn puffy!? 😭 Your character’s gonna end up being “that guy with the lip filler” instead !?!? 😭😭

Osaka Sougo: Oh, I was totally fine! I actually toned the level down since I have a secret code with Mitsuki-san.

Momo: Dude you keep dropping some crazy lines lololol what’s you guys’ secret code!?

Osaka Sougo: When Mitsuki-san asks, “How spicy is it?” I promised to reply, “Just a little!” especially when I’m eating outside, so we don’t alarm those around us.

Momo: What the hell, that’s so cute!!! It’s like a call-and-response (2)! I’m totally asking you “How spicy?” next time 🤩

Osaka Sougo: Yes…! And I will respond with “Just a little!”

Momo: I’m kinda sad that the shoot’s gonna be over soon~~! 😭

Osaka Sougo: Likewise, I really loved the set... The atmosphere you create is so warm, Momo-san.

Osaka Sougo: I apologize for the mistake I caused on the first day, the reshoot must’ve been an inconvenience…

Momo: Oh youuuu, stop worrying about that! 🥺 If you’re gonna say that, then I messed up a bunch too! You had to carry wine for so long because I kept reshooting lolol

Osaka Sougo: No, that situation was out of your control since your costume didn’t flow the way it was supposed to…!

Momo: Yup! Making it look like I was floating was much harder than I thought it’d be! 🥺 

Momo: That’s the scene where your character, who works at the hotel the ghost lives in as a waiter, yells out “Why do you keep interrupting me during work!? You cruel ghost, get out!” right? 🤔

Osaka Sougo: Yes… I’m not used to yelling, so my voice cracked a little… It’s an important scene too. The ghost was interested in my character, but I couldn’t stand the pranks he pulled on a daily basis anymore and I exploded…

Momo: But I really loved your acting! You were blushing right up to your ears, your hands were shaking, and so was your voice. You exploded with emotion.

Momo: That’s why I got more into my own role than usual, I think! I ended up responding to the waiter’s anger with extra sass, and I went, “What do you want me to do to pass time then, you stupid brat!” ✨

Osaka Sougo: Thank you very much… Your playful and mischievous tone was also very wonderful, Momo-san! You embody every role you play so well…!

Momo: Ehehe, thanks 🤗 I really like this role since it’s cute! 

Momo: It’s so endearing how he ghost actually wants to be friends with the waiter, but he just can’t be honest about it 🥺❤

Osaka Sougo: He’s a bit of a tsundere, isn’t he. If only he asked the waiter to play with him, things wouldn’t have escalated to that degree…

Momo: They keep misunderstanding each otherrrrrr! I totally relaaaaate!!!

Osaka Sougo: You and Yuki-san always seem to understand each other perfectly, but it sounds like you’ve had moments like that too…

Momo: Yeah, for sure! All the time actually. Yuki does so many things I can’t do, I can’t even begin to grasp some of it. I want to support him too, but sometimes what I think is helpful isn’t what he actually needs… and vice versa.

Momo: Most of the time, it’s just us trying to do something good for each other that backfires LOL

Osaka Sougo: I understand………………………….

Momo: you relate in a way huh LOL

Osaka Sougo: May I ask, how do you resolve those misunderstandings…?

Momo: We argue to the bitter end! We talk!

Osaka Sougo: You argue!? Is that okay?!

Momo: Of course! Leaving things that way is actually the worst! Though I’ve only learnt that from spending so many years with Yuki so I can’t be too high and mighty about it

Momo: We fight because we wanna understand each other, share what we feel, and cherish one another

Osaka Sougo: I see how it is

Osaka Sougo: Tamaki-kun and I cherish each other too, right?

Momo: Yup! You can lose sight of something that obvious when you spend so much time with someone.

Momo: Thanks, Sougo! Talking to you made me reflect on myself and how much I wanna keep working hard, together with Yuki.

Osaka Sougo: Oh no, I’m the one who should be thanking you…! at first I only wanted to thank you, but I’m grateful you listened to me for this long!

Momo:

Momo: Yuki’s stuck composing something right now so I didn’t wanna bother him, but I’ll reach out and make sure he gets some fresh air. Even if I have to drag him out. 😤

Osaka Sougo: I see, then I’ll try to reach out to Tamaki-kun even when he’s busy with choreography or school. I wanna talk to him about work even more!

Momo: That’s awesome 😤 😤 Let’s catch up again soon, Sougo! 😤

Osaka Sougo: Yes…! I’m looking forward to it 😤

Tantan soup: Tantanmen soup, inspired by the Chinese Sichuan Dandan noodles. A spicy and creamy noodles dish. (via kitchenstories)

Call and response: a form of interaction between a speaker and an audience in which the speaker's statements ("calls") are punctuated by responses from the listeners. This form is also used in music, where it falls under the general category of antiphony. (via wikipedia)

[animehideout]

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART 10

Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

check out part 11 here ✨🆕

W.c: 3.4K+

not proofread ⚠️

a/n : Hi everyone, I'm back with another part yaaay, I hope you enjoy it. I need a good cry so I wrote this, where are my Angst enthusiasts at? this part is for you, but no worries I'll make it up for you I promise 😭🩵.

Music Suggestion 🎧 I highly recommend The Neighborhood - Softcore to match the sadness 🥲

You gradually regained your consciousness; you felt a dull throb in your head. You blinked slowly, struggling to focus, your surroundings initially a blur of shapes and colors that gradually sharpened into clarity.

You tried to move, to rub your temples but your heart beats quickened when you realized you were bound to a chair, your limbs securely tied with coarse ropes. Panic surged through your veins, your eyes widening as you struggled against your restrains, each tug to break free was met with resistance. Ropes tightly wrapped around your wrists and legs, a burning sensation, only serving to deepen your sense of helplessness.

“Fuck, fuck” you muttered.

Breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling in wild rhythm. You scanned the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of escape. But there was none, and you found yourself trapped in a nightmare worse than your reality.

Suddenly, a deep voice cut through the silence, coming from behind. A tone that sent shivers down your spine,

“No need to struggle princess”

The words dripped with menace. You were too scared to look behind not knowing what to face. You bit your lips that were quivering. From the shadow, he emerged. With hesitation you looked up to see the tall figure that concealed the dim light from you. His muscles taut beneath his shirt, a sly, dirty smirk tugged at the corners of his scarred lips. His dark black hair fell on his face gracefully, looking directly at your soul with his narrowed eyes. for a split second, you thought it was a more aggressive version of Megumi.

His presence, the way he stood in front of you, looking down at you sent a chill to your whole nervous system, making your breath hitch up.

“W-who are you? What am I doing here?”

He reached to grab your chin with his long fingers, forcing your head up to look at him.

“Shh-hh, don’t ask questions! Lemme introduce myself first” he paused, bringing another chair and sat right in front of you. “I’m sure you’ve heard about me…they probably warned you, I’m-”

“You’re Toji Zenin?!” you interrupted him

With a mocking tone, he leaned forward and said,

“I go by Fushiguro now! So don’t say Zenin ever again…so? Did you sleep well”

You stayed frozen in place, each inhale felt like shards of glass scraping down your throat. Consumed by fear, realizing that the man who’s been searching for you all around Tokyo, just to take your life away finally found you and was comfortably sitting in front of you. Your world narrowed, maybe it’s the end.

*flash back*

With a heavy weight in your heart, you left Jujutsu High in the dread of the night. Spending the night stargazing in the balcony wasn’t enough; you wanted to get completely detached so you left for some fresh air away, far away from Gojo.  The echo of what Gojo said to you still ringing in your ears. “you failed your family and now you’re failing everyone else in Jujutsu High” those words never left your mind.

“He’s right..I even failed myself” you muttered to yourself.

You walked through the streets, each step was a painful reminder that you’ve got nowhere to go, completely lost, nowhere and no one to turn to, feeling that you don’t belong anywhere. The darkness of the night enveloped you like a cloak. Your feet carried you to an unexpected place, standing in front of the big wooden door, you didn’t dare to knock, you just stood there in front of your parent’s house, memories flooding your mind. Maybe your parents were right for keeping you locked inside. Maybe someone like you was never meant to leave the safety of their house, maybe your parents knew that you would get hurt. But your family, who spent their life keeping you in the darkness of your room pushed you to marry a stranger, a man you never knew, never met; Gojo Satoru, just because of his good reputation, because he’s the strongest, maybe your parents thought he would keep you safe and will protect you, but he ended up slit opening a deep wound within you, once again awakening your trauma that you worked hard to learn how to live with.

“I was only a burden to everyone” you said to yourself,

You heard giggles so you stepped closer, peeking through the window. Your heart sank as you saw your family again, after so long. You didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad at their sight. Your parents and siblings, gathered together in the warm glow of the light. Carefree and content, laugher filling the air, a bittersweet melody to your ears. Their faces illuminated by smiles as they talked together.

You stood there, a silent observer on the outside looking in. A tear rolled down your cheek , a broken smile drawn on your face,

“They look happy without me”

You felt a sting in your chest,  loneliness washing over you again and again, it actually never left, loneliness was the only companion you had. It was as if you were peering into a world you had once knew, yet now felt completely disconnected.

History repeating itself, once again your family managed to make you feel like an outsider, a complete stranger. You felt as if you were a completely forgotten fragment of their life, a faded memory lost in the depth of time, as if you never been a part of their past.

Tears welled in your eyes as you turned away from the window, unable to bear the ache of being invisible to them your whole life. As you turned, you were met with a pair of glowing eyes looking directly at you, a tall masked figure that made you gasp , but before you could react, you got hit on your head with a metal bar…falling unconscious.

*End of flashback*

“Was that your parents house?” asked Toji

But you completely ignored his question, looking away from his intense gaze,

“What do you want from me?”

“Kill you, obviously… now answer my question..Was that your parents’ house?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“As you can see, I feed on other’s suffering .. so it would be nice to learn more about your miserable past”

You frowned your brows in confusion,

“I had a normal, not miserable past" you lied, keeping your traumas to yourself,

“Oh hoho, let me guess, abused? Discriminated? No no ignored? That’s the right word… no one ever recognized you right? No one made you feel welcomed cuz you were different and people are scared of things that are different” he started

How did he know that? How did he know about your past? How could he describe what you've felt so accurately?

“N-no!” you lied again

“Come on don’t lie to me.. I know very well the face of someone who’s been discriminated their entire life for being  different”

“Have you met someone like that to judge so confidently?”

“No, but I look in the mirror everyday”

You looked at him in disbelief, you didn’t dare to say a word. Whatever he was trying to do, was successfully making you feel uncomfortable. Is he trying to torture you before taking your last breath away? But you already gave up, there’s no way you can escape this place, tied hands and legs, him sitting right across you., and probably no one would look for you.

“If you’re gonna kill me then do it already, and spare me from talking about the past”

“Woah, so you give up already? Who pushed you to your limits to the point that you greet death as an old friend?” he asked

“No one, just do it. This is what you captured me for.. SO DO IT” you yelled.

“Hm, interesting! I think I know where all of this is coming from..Gojo Satoru? Did your husband add to your trauma?”

“enough” you whispered weakly

“What? It must be hard to live with him; especially that he’s the strongest. Lemme guess! He made you feel weak at any given chance, reminding you again and again that you’re nothing” he said offensively pushing you to your edge.

“St-op”

“That’s what sorcerers do, they claim they protect the normal, oh I’m sorry the monkeys like us, but in reality they use their power to belittle us…and you’ll soon be like them, soon you’ll turn into your real form; a sorcerer with an immaculate power but ugly usage..and this is my chance to spare the world of the normal from your ugliness”

“What are you talking about? I’m no turning into a sorcerer-”

“What?”

“It’s been weeks and nothing happened, that prophecy they talked about was nothing but a big lie”

“But your curse-”

“Fate is my only curse” you said, your eyes blankly staring at him, completely worn out.

*Back at Jujutsu High*

Satoru’s eyes blazed with fury as he walked towards Mei Mei and grabbed her by the arm, his grip tight and violent. He yanked her aside aggressively,

“You! You’re the reason she’s gone” he spat with anger.

Mei Mei’s face etched with annoyance, narrowing her eyes at him,

“Don’t you dare blame me for this! It’s  your fault Gojo not mine” she fought back.

“You did that on purpose didn’t you? Leading me to your room cuz you know Y/n will be there, you’re trying your best to have me, but you can’t and you never will” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“You started this in the first place. You asked for my help to push Y/n away, and when I succeeded in giving you what you wanted, you started blaming me? Is this your way to say thank you?”

“I already told you to stop, I said that I no longer in need of your help that you got paid for, but you kept pushing, you wanted more than pushing Y/n away, you wanted me to be yours, but too bad for you, I don’t want you Mei Mei _ and if something happens to y/n I’ll end you! Do you understand ?” he threatened and turned his back to leave.

“Do you love her?” asked Mei Mei making Gojo stop in his track. “There’s only explanation for this, you fell for her Gojo: you fell for Y/n!”

A moment of silence washed over the place, making a hundred of thoughts flow in Gojo’s head. But he ignored her; he doesn’t have time to think about his feelings, when the one he has feelings for is missing because of him. So he started walking away to join the others and start their mission to find you.

…..

“We’ll split into three groups and cover as much ground as possible” suggested Gojo and all of them nodded in agreement.

“Megumi and Maki come with me” he added

“I’ll take Yuji-kun  and Panda” said Nanami

“Inumaki and Nobara you’ll go with principal Yaga” ordered Satoru

“What about Mei Mei, where is she? Isn’t she coming with us to look for Y/n-sensei?” asked Maki with suspicion, she never liked her anyway.

“I’ll go with you” said Mei Mei as she joined them in the common room, “Let’s find y/n”

Satoru ignored her presence and left the room, the rest of them walked outside. Spreading across Tokyo streets, searching everywhere for a glimpse of you. Ready for any possible encounter with Toji Zenin.

Satoru walked with powerful step, determined to find Toji’s hideout and save you from his deadly grasp.

“We’ll find her..don’t worry Y/n is strong, she can definitely handle it” said Megumi in a comforting tone, after noticing how stressed Satoru was.

“I know… she’s strong” he finally admitted.

Hours stretched on into the night, Gojo and the other sorcerers students and teachers combed through each and every corner of the city.. every alleyway, every secluded spot that Toji could possibly use desperate to find her, but for nothing.

Despite their exhaustive efforts, the outcome remained unchanged; you’re nowhere to be found.

With heavy hearts and weary bodies they got back to Jujutsu High as principal Yaga called off the search.

*2 days later*

“The higher ups called for an urgent meeting” said Principal Yaga

“We’ll join the meeting!” said Yuji

“No it’s only for the teachers”

“NO! we care for Y/n-sensei, and maybe more than all of you! If this is about Y/n-sensei then we’re joining” said Yuji with a sad tone

With a sigh, principal Yaga nodded, guiding all of them to the meeting room.

*At the meeting room*

Tension hung in the air, faces drawn and expressions grim as they waited for one of the higher ups to speak,

“Any clue? Any hint? Any progress?” asked one of them.

All of them shook their heads in defeat, their silence spoke volumes, conveying their helplessness and the frustration of their failure.

“We expected nothing less from Toji Zenin, it’s already crystal clear-” he added coldly, his words cutting through the silence once again.

“We won’t give up! We’ll go back tomorrow and this time we bring her home and bring Toji to his trial again” said Gojo in fraustartion, his words dripping with venom.

“You’ve been looking for two days but for vain, there’s no point in wasting any more time and effort, once she’s captured by Toji we knew she’s already gone, she’s already dead” said one of the higher ups.

“SHE’S NOT DEAD” yelled Satoru slamming his fist on the wooden table,

all heads turned at his direction at his sudden rage.

“I know it’s hard to swallow, but it’s your fault for letting her wander outside without keeping an eye on her, it’s your fa-”

“YOU THINK IM NOT AWARE OF IT? YES YOU’RE RIGHT IT’S MY FUCKING FAULT FOR LETTING HER GO, IT’S MY FAULT FOR PUSHING HER AWAY FROM ME, IT’S MY DAMN FAULT MY HURTING HER SO MUCH TO THE POINT THAT SHE FAVORED FACING DANGER OUTSIDE THEN STAYING BESIDE ME…stop blaming me because I know, I messed up, I fucked up and I admit it…but you can’t ask me to give up on my wife-” said Gojo his voice cracking.

Without further words, he left the room. Nanami followed him trying to help him,

“Gojo stop…hey stop” said Nanami “Where are you going?”

“To find her”

“Gojo you know you won’t find her…” said Nanami apologetically

“You once told me to treat her as a real wife, so here I am doing , let me for once care for her like a real wife”

“Gojo don’t do this to yourself, I know you still have hope, we all do but the higher ups won’t allow it”

“Well fuck them the higher ups..I won’t rest till I bring my wife home”

“Alright I’ll come with you”

*At Toji Zenin’s hideout*

“Wakey wakey…” said Toji splashing cold water on your head

You gasped for air, completely startled, completely drenched

“W-what the hell!!” you exclaimed

“Someone wants to meet you”

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you glanced towards the door in anticipation. Who could possibly come to meet you? Is there someone else in the dirty game that Toji is playing?

Your heart skipped a beat as the door creaked open, revealing a familiar silhouette that slowly emerged from the shadow to the light.

“M-Mei Mei?” you said in shock

Your mind raced trying to make sense of the whole situation, your eyes didn’t leave hers as she looked down at you. But the smirk on Mei Mei’s face offered no answer,

“I hope you had fun these two days here with Toji”  

“W-what?” your voice almost inaudible.

“Did you think I’d let you win huh? Poor Y/n!”

“You!- you did all of this? What’s your problem with me huh?” you asked your voice trembling with anger.

“The thing is, you are the problem Y/n! I won’t let you have Gojo, I won’t let you turn into a sorcerer and become the strongest..I won’t let that prophecy come true”

“You’re insane!” you shook your head in disbelief

“Well call it whatever you like, but I won’t let you steal my dreams away”

“So you think that stealing my life away is the right thing to do?”

“YES YES” she leaned forward “I can’t bear to see Gojo look at you with much love in his eyes, I can’t bear to see him giving his heart to you-”

“What are you blabbering about? You know well what kind of relationship I have with Gojo, I already know that both of you have an affair”

Suddenly she started laughing hysterically,

“That’s what I wanted but that dick didn’t want me and never did, since you’re going to die so yeah lemme tell you truth, I got paid to do what I’ve done, he never touched me…it was all lie, all of them, I made that up to push you out of the frame, he wanted that at first but then he started to push ME out of the frame, maybe he’s got a liking into you, a liking that I didn’t like, when I noticed the way his heart started to beat for you, when a spark was born I had to intervene, I couldn’t help but release Toji out of prison, pay him a big amount of money  to abduct you and kill you”

“I’ve never thought you’ll get to this level of low” you spat

“Now you’re out of the frame, I succeeded, you’ll die.. Toji will kill you and I’ll work on making Gojo forget about you, I’ll comfort him when he mourns your death, I’ll be the shoulder he cries on and that’s how I’ll win his heart…to the higher ups you’re already considered dead and shortly you’ll truly be” she said happily, playing with her hair

Disbelief washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you disoriented. You struggled to voice your thoughts, lost in the overwhelming emotions so you started screaming at her,

“I’LL KILL YOU MEI MEI, I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU”

You struggled to break free from the ties that restricted your movement to a minimum, completely going crazy, you hair falling on your face. With each tug and desperate lurch you felt your anger growing more and more, your heart hammering against your chest, redoubling your efforts, till you crashed on the ground, the chair toppled over with a resounding thud, hitting your head on the hard concrete. You laid there, disoriented and dazed, pain pulsed through your skull, world spinning around you. If you managed to break free you’ll make Mei Mei vanish from existence.

You saw in slow mo how Mei Mei was walking towards the door leaving the room, Toji crouched down, brushing strands of hair off your face, placing it behind your ear,

“It’s okay, it won’t be painful…but before I kill you, I’ll do terrible thing to you that will make you beg me to kill you”

You were too weak to answer him, you can feel yourself fading into the background, into the nothingness…losing touch  with what’s real. As you closed your eyes, seeking solace in the silence. His face emerged, Gojo’s features etched in your mind with crystalline clarity. Amidst the chaos, the threat, you were somehow happy and relieved that he did not cheat on you, that hadn’t touched Mei Mei  and that all what she said before was a lie to offend you that’s all. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, with each passing moment, your thoughts dived deeper and deeper in the memories shared between both of you, the closeness of your faces when both of you bickered, the way he was sleeping  next you but disturbed by his night terrors, you wished that you be there for him, comfort him and put him back to sleep in your arms, maybe you’ll be his dream and replace that ugly nightmare that haunts him every night. Maybe you can try again and be a real husband and wife.

You realized in that moment that you needed him, that you have already fell for him but that feeling needed something to be noticed, and this something is being far away from him. But is there a way back? A tear run on your cheek, a weak smile drawn on your tired face, fate is indeed your curse.

“It’s too late…I’m already gone”

With that you closed your eyes, drifting to sleep, your dream filled with visions of Gojo is your only companion.  

….

“Are you sure about this Maki?” asked Nobara

“I don’t know, but she’s been acting really suspicious, maybe we can find something?”

“You sure we won’t get caught?”

“No…but I’ll do it, if you’re not sure about this you can go I’ll handle it alone!”

“No I’ll be here, I’ll guard the place”

Both of them walked through the dark corridor like ghosts, gently turning the door knob, sneaking into Mei Mei’s room.

Taglist ✨:

@smolbeanzzz @khaleesihavilliard @tqd4455 @black-swan-blog27 @certainduckanchor @haitanibros0007 @goldenjoyboyy @lorako123 @kunikuzushisbeloved @saiyara05 @numblytemporary @soulofendlessbook @bookswillfindyouaway @sukunasleftkneecap @ryumurin @twitabread @f1uveryysblog @sleepyyammy @olivianyx @animechick555 @allofffmypeaches @inlovewithlondonn @tw0fvced @markleeisdabestdrug @blvckxb3vutii @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostfacefricker6969

@shervinss

@eolivy

@caycaysblogg

@butterskyy

@myloveforharrystylesneverenough

@sanriosatoru

@ioriorigami

@kiki17483

@maskedpacific

@ssetsuka

@sm3156

@iantheandmargaux

@lioness77

@hermitkerm

@itzmartuuwu

@username23345

@kendall0111

@thoughfullovercreator

[failchild]

they sure know how to make a season finale

suuuch a good finale. i guess it's obvious now that they knew what point A and point B were, but had no idea how to connect them (hence the weird pacing throughout the season!)

YAAAY GEMMA'S OKAY YAAAAAAYYYY

so awesome how they managed to have mark covered in blood like john wick or whatever but it was because he did an accident. he had an oopsie. almost cheered like i was at a sports event when mark used his bloody clothes to unlock the cold harbor room

i do wish drummond and gwendoline christie had, like, actual characters or they showed up more so their moments here had more impact. cool way to die though

similarly i wish we had seen at least a glimpse of the marching band department in a previous episode. oh well such is television

mark's argument with himself was awesome. love that.

mpreg kier?

very funny that jame dgaf about helena but thinks helly kind of rocks. even her dad thinks she's a loser for real

SO happy that dylan's back. if they wrote off irv and dylan in the same episode i would have leapt into a volcano

mark and helly are gonna fight for their right to exist...and now that the gemma experiment was ruined, does lumon have to start all over again?

[salt-clangen]

Honestly I'd just love a day in the life of Mallow and it's him literally preparing food. And in his head he's all super serious in making sure what he cooks is the best possible. Like yesss!!! We know how to cook in this household <33

Mallow is 100% all sunshine in his head, he’s thinking ‘yaaay I get to cook for my clan and my crushes, today is a great day every day’. I can’t see him being any other way bc how the hell is he single-handedly feeding an entire clan and not facing burn out without some sort of delusional happiness going in his brain.

This also made me realize I never wrote about why Mallow decided to be a keeper. It kinda got lost in all the drama, so here’s a lil story to make up for that:

TW warning: destruction of fire, burning, injuries, and crude meat processing

(This is long and not beta’ed)

Sandkit loved to eat, despite her runty size she had an appetite that rivaled an adult cat. She often begged for snacks throughout the day, though Lynxdawn assured everyone she wasn’t full of worms. Still she spent most of the day hanging around the clan’s oven, just over the line in the sand Mallowstripe had drawn for her, eyeing every move he made.

“Sandkit you’re not getting anything today.” He told her flatly. “Your mother has been very vocal about not spoiling you.”

Sandkit batted her eyes sweetly. “I’m not doing anything.”

His tail twitched as he set a pot to boil, preparing tea for the evening. “Then why are you here invading my kitchen.”

She feigned shock, gesturing dramatically to the ground. “I’m not over the line!”

He chuckled lowly, knowing he’d likely give in anyways and give her a fish head or rabbit jerky, if she was patient enough.

Her next words actually surprised him. “Why’d you wanna be a camp keeper?” She dragged a claw along the rock wall.

Mallowstripe actually had to pause, unsure how to answer.

She took his silence for confusion. “Mama said you were training to be a cleric before you came here. I wanted to know what made you change.”

He laughed through his nose, it felt like seasons since he was in duskclan. “That’s kinda true.” He glanced at her. “Actually, before I was a cleric apprentice I was a warrior apprentice.”

“Woah really?!” Her jaw dropped. “Like Shadowdive and Snowspeckle?”

He nodded, turning back to his work, a patrol had brought a large duck home and he needed to prepare it. “That’s right, my mentor, Thornstrike, was tough and didn’t really like kits.”

“He sounds gross.” She stuck her tongue out.

“Yeah I think a lot of cats would say that.” He pulled out the duck feathers, setting them aside for cleaning. “He was very strict, I’d wanted to be a camp keeper but I was too nervous and I felt like I had to be a warrior.”

“Why didn’t your mama help you?” Sandkit asked, not noticing how his movements slowed.

“My parents both died before I was apprenticed.” He said, going back to plucking, slightly faster.

Sandkit seemed to realize her mistake now, squirming in place. “That’s sad. I’m sorry.”

He waved her closer with his tail, she scooted in for a hug quickly, not minding the heat of the day and oven. Her eyes darted to the hanging minnows drying, but she didn’t ask.

Giving her a quick lick and a nuzzle, he swiped one of the minnows for her. “Dont tell anyone.” He whispered and she snatched the morsel.

Ushering her back over the line, glancing about conspiratorially, he went back to work as she chewed. “My sister was a keeper’s apprentice, she showed me a lot of her training. One day I tried to start a fire.”

She nearly choked on her bite, eyes wide as she swallowed the lump down, before she could speak up he continued.

“It was dangerous, I shouldn’t have done it. I hurt my face in the fire and one of the cats who caught me died. We were trying to put the fire out and he got trapped. Thornstrike dragged me out by my ear, shredding it.” He flicked his left ear towards her.

“But why would you be a cleric after that?” She asked. “And why would you wanna work with fire after you were burned?!”

He shushed her gently, her voice very high with anticipation. “The cleric had a vision that I should help her as her apprentice.” He explained, leaving out some of the more…complicated parts. “I trained with her while Wolfstar and Lynxdawn were forming Saltclan. After a while I decided to join them.”

“But why?” Sandkit whined, shuffling her paws in the sand to bury her toes.

“Well… I wasn’t a good cleric.” He confessed with a laugh. “I couldn’t tell which plants were which half the time, it could’ve been bad if I gave the wrong herb to the wrong cat. I also wasn’t very spiritual like your mama. I never spoke with Starclan.”

He sighed, unsure how to explain to a kit.

“But with camp keeping…there was less pressure you know? Sure I have to make sure I cook everything properly and ration enough for everyone but I don’t have to worry about giving a cat poison on accident or wondering if I missed a prophecy that was life or death for the clan.” He pulled out a stone chopper, the sharpened edge made butchering easier as it lobbed off the head and extremities.

“Plus it’s easier to tell the difference between a gallbladder and a lung.” He joked, slicing into the prey now to pull out the organs, the useful ones he’d use for sausage making. The dirty ones he’d bury in the dirt place.

Sandkit giggled with him, eyes curious as she looked over the prey parts.

“Don’t you miss fighting and hunting?” She asked.

He shook his head, checking on the pot and adding the tea leaves to the water. “Not really. I still spar with Snowspeckle and Shadowdive, but even before my eyesight start failing I wasn’t very good at it. It also didn’t make me happy.”

Her head shot up. “You’re blind?” She asked incredulously.

That made him belly laugh, loudly, chest heaving it took him a moment to catch his breath. “In this eye yes, I’m mostly blind. I can see movement and shapes but not details.”

Sandkit looked at him like she’d never seen him before.

“Did you really not notice?” He chuckled.

“No! I thought you just squinted a lot.” She hugged, embarrassed now at his teasing.

He patted her shoulder with his tail. “It’s alright honey.” He pulled down some bowls for marinades and honey. “Are you thinking about being a camp keeper?”

That got her smile back. “Nah! I wanna be a warrior! I wanna go out and hunt and explore and fight!”

He smiled warmly, though she was too distracted posing like a warrior to notice.

“That’s good, you should follow your heart.” He said, surprised to feel her bumping her head against his elbow.

“Don’t worry I’ll come visit you in the kitchen and bring you tons of fresh kill.” She purred.

His eyes felt misty for a moment, she was so unaware of her effect on him. “I’d lie that, Sand. I’ll cook everything you bring me. Make something delicious so you’ll always be strong.”

She spryly leapt up, dashing around him excitedly. “I’d love that!”

The sweet moment was cut short by a loud yell from across camp. “SANDKIT YOU BETTER STAY OUTTA THAT KITCHEN!”

The pair ducked, frozen, as Lynxdawn marched across the sand.

“And you!” She jabbed a claw his way. “Stop feeding her! She’s gonna get sick from over eating because of you!”

Sandkit laughed nervously as she dashed off, rejoining her sisters in the nursery as her mother focused on poo Mallowstripe.

“It was just a minnow! She was being so sweet!” He reasoned.

Lynxdawn grumbled, not as angry as she pretended, but still needing to drive the point home. “You’re too soft, Mallowstripe.”

[aprismaticodyssey]

I've made progress yaaay-

As in, I only did Chapter 13. I actually split it because... I wanted to? I dunno, it just felt long to me, even if that wasn't the case. So I'm gonna be uploading 13 and 14 next. I even got to use variables that I figured wouldn't come up until Book 2! I mean, it was a minor use but still. I wasn't expecting to use it until then.

Yknow, in the original document, Ch13 was Ch11. So, it looks like I'm gonna be closer to 20 chapters, which blows my mind. I'm still reeling from the fact I wrote something with a beginning, middle, and end.

I'm really looking forward to Ch15, though (11, in the original doc oml). When I originally drafted this, it was my favorite part! So, I hope when it comes, you all like it too!

[cometcare]

i keep looking at the tags you wrote like that ↑

YOUR WORDS MEAN SO MUCH TO MEEE sorry i suck at communicating but they made me so joyful and happy!!! yaaay!!!! can't believe im someone's art inspiration, that's wild!!! ;;_;; tytytytt tysm forevar and evaear heart🩵

<33!!!!!

[irlplasticlamb]

Would love to hear more about Rhaelor!

YAAAY!!

(here) is a long-ish lost i wrote about him a while back but here’s a small summary!:

— rhaelor targaryen, youngest son of viserys and alicent, irish twin to daeron.

— pathetically hopeless in combat, fantastic at art. he’s very skilled in music (his instrument of choice is a harp) and lace making.

— very spoiled and indulgent, actively ignores the politics to continue satisfying all his little fancies. a glutton in everything — partying, sex, gossip.

— charming, well versed in pleasantries, and beloved by the ladies at the court.

— aegon is his favourite sibling but alicent is the most important person in his entire life. he’s a total mummy’s boy.

— has a little darling dragon called stardust, who was injured very early in her life, stunting her growth and making her unable to fly for prolonged periods of time.