#it at least seemed like i could rationalize it if i presented it as a year-end wrapup

[bookshelf-in-progress]

My Favorite Lines from Each of the Stories I've Written This Year

There will be spoilers.

Without Words

I've said that my favorite line is:

Even now, I am silent. But my silence fills with the sound of beating wings.

But I think my favorite might actually be the ending (a contender for one of the best endings I've written).

There are no words to express all I want to say. Fortunately, we have never needed words. I force my way past my brothers, throw my arms around Christian's neck, pull him in for a kiss, and let my silence speak for me. This time, he understands.

Purity of Mind

Either this hint at Adam's fairy tale identity.

Adam stroked his blue-black whiskers, neatly trimmed for his homecoming. A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat; after months of her tiptoeing around him, her frankness was amusing. "I paid your parents richly for the privilege."

Or this chilling reveal of it.

He would never have opted for such an impersonal death. It was much more satisfying to feel the life draining away beneath his fingers.

Length of Years

I like how concisely I managed to summarize the lifetime of events that kept the prince from returning to the tower.

"I might have returned, when my temper cooled, but then there were the wars, the diplomatic missions, the voyages, the marriage treaty, the children..." He sat wearily on her window ledge. "By the time life slowed down, I assumed you'd long ago moved on, and it would have been disloyal to seek you out."

Loving Memory

I love the beautiful irony of this scene ending.

"What would she need to do to make you love her? What would you want in a wife?" Someone who can come into a ballroom clad in furs and not feel shame. Someone who knows how to laugh and cry. Someone who loves to watch the northern lights. Someone who travels night and day to apologize to a man she betrayed. In the end, I choose the diplomatic answer. "I don't know that I can ask for more than what I already have."

My very favorite part might be the flashbacks. I wanted this part to involve the usual scenes from the beginning of the fairy tale, but was afraid this would involve a lot of extra writing. So I love that I managed to do it with five two-sentence-long scenes.

As sappy as it is, I can't help loving their reunion. (Even if I don't think "senseless" is the word I was going for here.)

"Karina," I breathe. "I remember." "Everything?" she asks, as tears stream down her face. "Everything," I say, and kiss her senseless.

And my very most favorite part might be their quiet scene together afterward, where he's rejoicing in their reunion in ways that put me in mind both of Manalive and the Eden/salvation story.

My own. My beloved. My wife. It is like falling in love all over again.

In Chains

Of course it's the moment of reveal.

Vallen met the young man’s eyes and explained as calmly as possible, “I admire your devotion, but the river is only strictly required in the marriage rite—” Of kings.

A Song of Starlight

The last part of this line was always central to my idea of the story, but I also love the opening clause that let me transition to that moment.

After eternity had come and gone, the song slowed and faded away, and Birgit was herself again--cold and alone, but no longer afraid.

Stars and Shadows: A Fairy Tale

Even when I was uncertain about the readability of this strange style and feeling self-conscious about posting it, I thought the entire story was worth it just for this line.

Your breath will shine before you in delicate white clouds, your very life made visible for the fragile, lovely thing it is.

The True Story: An Epistolary Novelette

I love Penny's relatable line about the horrors of recommending books.

It's always a little bit horrible when someone else reads one of your favorite books, because if they hate it, it crushes a piece of your heart, and I don't have that many pieces to spare.

I like this line of Ben's, which clarified some things about the philosophy of this story for me.

Making peace with mystery--knowing that some things are ever unknowable--is not the same as refusing to believe the truth that comes before your eyes.

And this one (which let me get a bit more theological than I thought I could get away with).

I may not know how these books come into my shop, but I know from whom.

Penny's freakout over the loss of Mercator always makes me laugh.

If the U.S. Postal Service is responsible for their destruction, I'll...we'll...we'll make them pay! This is a murder and there must be justice! Don't worry, I don't blame you. But the next mailman to cross my path better watch out.

As does this follow-up one.

Still no sign of Mercator. Did you forget to send it again, or do I have to lay siege to the post office?

I love this moment because Ben surprised even me by unbending and talking like an ordinary person with a sense of humor instead of a Victorian businessman with a stick up his rear.

This is me not saying I told you so. That doesn't leave me much else to say.

This is my favorite description of Cardinal's Map I've managed so far.

It's the most beautiful...well, not fantasy. But it's not not fantasy.

I'm very pleased with how Christine's reaction to Cardinal's Map turned out, but my favorite lines might be

It's like this book reached into my soul and rearranged the furniture.

And

It's just...a story, so I let my guard down and it got under my skin.

And this. Even if it gets a bit on-the-nose and sappy, it's still kind of sweet. (And it amused me while typing it because the author's hand in all this is me.)

There was someone's hand in all this--an author arranging all the pieces of the story in a way I'd never have been able to achieve on my own. Maybe before that'd make me feel helpless, but now, I don’t know, I guess I feel cared for. Like someone’s watching out for me.

The Sylph in the Storm

I've always liked this reveal.

Then the firelight revealed what the night had hidden. Though the man stood as tall and real and human as any of us, the light shone through him.

This scene with Captain Avery was one of my favorites in the original version, and was a big reason I kept coming back to this scene and loved it enough to try to turn it into a short story here.

“Sarah,” the Captain said suddenly, “could you pour some tea for our guest?" Tea? For a sylph?  I didn't understand how he could consume anything, but the Captain knew about these sorts of things.  And when faced with the question of what one did with a sylph in the parlor, tea seemed as sensible an answer as anything else. The sylph stood and tried to decline. "That's very kind, but you needn't..." The Captain's face was as firm as it ever could have been when he'd commanded a ship.    “You've form enough to take food, and you're tired enough to need it.” “I can't take repayment...” “Good,” the Captain replied, “because none of us have any hope of repaying you.  But you need to allow us our gratitude, and you'll need nourishment before you can do much else.”

[loriache]

do you ever think about how delgal never blamed the winged lion for what happened to thistle?

I'll preface this by saying that he certainly COULD have done. most of the arguments that delgal had with thistle about returning the golden kingdom are off-page, and he doesn't seem to have relayed a lot of detail to yaad about how he understood thistle's behaviour.

however.

what we can infer, i think, is that if delgal blamed anything for thistle's increasingly erratic behaviour, it was the influence of "black magic" and power.

the winged lion is the golden kingdom's guardian deity, and that is how they understand it up to the present - including yaad. the prophecy that convinced delgal to leave the dungeon (which i assume the winged lion intended to use to attract another, more easily controllable, dungeon lord) is likely to be part of a long campaign the lion made of deliberately isolating thistle from the people of the golden kingdon and presenting itself as the victim.

we see that the lion is convincing, and keeps a facade of concern for thistle long past the point that it has any chance of winning him over - i don't have any doubt it was easy to present this narrative to the kingdom's people, including delgal.

but isn't it incredibly sad to think that the person who thistle trusted most in the world and did all of this for was unable to see the true victim, between him and the winged lion?

we see that very shortly upon becoming the dungeon lord, both marcille and laios become lost in their desires. this is standard.

Laios is only able to get through to marcille because he sees the root of her pain, and understands that ...

...the dungeon's power is evil.

thistle isn't acting rationally from the very beginning, but it is possible to reach him - if delgal could understand where his desire and his fear stemmed from, and that the winged lion is evil.

Thistle at least seems to know that the winged lion isn't to be trusted. Thus why he sealed it in the book. perhaps he picked up on what it was doing, manipulating the kingdom's people and him both.

But if he ever said that the winged lion was dangerous, not to be trusted, to delgal, he wasn't believed. to delgal, thistle sealed and misused the power of the golden kingdom's guardian deity. As a student of ancient magic, I believe thistle understands that isn't what the demon is - or at least not all of what it is - even if he doesn't know the details of why it's so dangerous, or that it can devour his desires. But as an 'outsider' to the golden kingdom, despite his (unofficial, i'm sure) adoption, and the fact he's been there most of his life, I doubt his saying so would be received well by the kingdom's people.

As far as we know delgal also doesn't understand the fear that is driving thistle's refusal to let the dungeon go -- the need to be useful that he instilled.

Even if he doesn't really realise, he is talking to a, at most, 15-16 year old in relative human years, and putting the responsibility for the kingdom on him - it's no wonder this is a weight that Thistle isn't able to let go of. Especially if this is how he attempts to persuade him:

It doesn't get to the root of why he asked thistle to do this to begin with - the fear of death. It's just "hasn't it been long enough, people want to leave." Well, if they leave, they will die - thistle's right about that! The only way to get him to accept that is what Yaad eventually does on his behalf at the end of the manga.

To admit that he was wrong to ask to begin with. To ask Thistle to accept loss and death. To accept it himself, truly.

Without doing that, there's no way he'd ever get through to him. So the route he takes - running away from thistle, begging that someone kill the "lunatic magician" - might be the last resort of a desperate man who blamed himself for what happened to his brother. But it's also something he does because he can't understand Thistle, and can't see his pain for what it is or his relationship with the Winged Lion for what it is.

The way that the lion manipulates others' perception to make him the victim and thistle the - well, the 'lunatic', the unstable villain and captor - really evokes DARVO to me. the demon as a metaphor for an abusive relationship. like.... look at this extra:

and it makes me sad that no-one realised what was going on until it was too late for thistle.

[missmugiwara]

You Said To Go All Out

Summary: afab!reader x Gojo // What happens when Satoru pretends to be your boyfriend for Christmas Eve and meets your family? Need any more be said? Warning: 18+, suggestive, fluff, crack fic?, Gojo being insufferable, Gojo being a daddy, Gojo fighting toxic masculinity, slight mention of sex and pregnancy, second-hand embarrassment Note: I'm such a ho ho ho for Satoru.

✦ Word count is 4.5k. ✦

"So tell me what's off the table."

"Nothing. I want you to go all out."

You reached forward to push the doorbell. The muted chime let you know it indeed worked. Seemed like your father fixed it since the last time you visited. You cleared your throat and shuffled under your coat to appear more presentable. There was a brief period of silence as you and Satoru Gojo stood still, your hot breaths omitting little clouds into the cold winter air. A second more and Gojo let out a snicker.

"Are you serious?"

"I am. Go crazy! Give 'em that Gojo charm."

The tall man next to you tipped his head back and let out a laugh. He seemed very amused. Did you realize the effect of your words though? Maybe you were just too hyper focused to think rationally, but you did just basically give Satoru Gojo permission to be unhinged.

Something he was quite good at.

So what was the permission for? Simply put, you were sick of visiting your parents for the holidays because every damn time they asked if you had a special someone in your life yet. Of course, as the eldest of the siblings, the extra added pressure was on. Pressure that was unwarranted and unneeded. You were not sure if you could go through it again without screaming. So when Gojo saw you deep in thought instead of paying attention to your students at Jujutsu High, he asked what the matter was. As soon as your eyes laid upon him, you broke out into a smile. Eagerly, you asked if he could pretend to be your boyfriend for dinner on Christmas Eve.

Honestly, you weren't sure what he would say. Thoughts of being humiliated had not even crossed your mind - that is until he just stared at you in thought with a wicked smirk pulling the corners of his mouth upward. That look made you second guess everything.

"Why should I help you out anyway?"

"Satoru, please! I'll do anything you want!"

Your breath caught in your lungs as soon as those words left your mouth. Why did you say that? Ugh, so desperate. His teasing tone made your face flush with heat. He hummed as he leaned in, peering at you somehow through that blindfold of his.

"Aaaanything I want?"

With a nervous smile, you stared at his gorgeous pink lips and then his eyes (or at least you thought you were making eye contact). No time to rethink this. Especially with Satoru tyring to outdo your confidence right then and there. You would not let him break you. Besides, couldn't he just agree? He was an old friend anyway! This was not even the craziest thing you two had done before.

"Yes!"

"Okay. I'll pick you up at three."

He pulled back with a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets and whistling a tune. Before he closed the classroom door, he chuckled and gave you one more glance.

"Oh, this will be so good."

Fast forward to Christmas Eve. There you two were, dressed to impress and standing at your parents' door. It had been a moment, and still no one answered, so you pushed the doorbell again.

Gojo continued to press you.

"So hand holding?"

"Yup."

"Kisses?"

"Only on the cheek!"

"Can I propose?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't care - wait. You have a ring on you?"

When you whipped your head to face him, he just grinned and started cackling.

"I might." he purred, then explained the one he had was a family heirloom passed down in the Gojo clan. Naturally, you grabbed his arm and shook your head - telling him he could not just use such an important and sentimental item for this little, white lie. However, maybe your parents would actually believe a marriage proposal. You had known Gojo since you were kids, but you weren't sure if your parents would remember him that well. Would it look crazy?

"How about no proposal? That might be too much. Otherwise, just throw everything you've got into this, okay? You can talk about getting married, job stuff, buying a house, whatever."

"Can I talk about sex?"

"Absolutely not!"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you pouted at him. He gave an innocent smile in turn.

"Alright, I'll behave… for now."

He turned toward you, letting his dark sunglasses slip from his nose as he gave a little eyebrow waggle. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from smiling because you needed to be firm with him. Not laugh and indulge him. It was no good as you pulled your scarf up to cover your smirk - something he did notice.

"You dog."

"That the best you got? I've been called worse."

A small squeak escaped your throat when Gojo's hand lightly tapped your ass.

"Satoru!"

"You said to go all out."

He smirked again. You opened your mouth, about to scold him, when all of a sudden the door flung open. Your mother squealed in delight and clasped her hands together upon seeing her beloved eldest child with their boyfriend. She profusely apologized for the wait, babbling on and on about how excited she was to see everyone, how she never saw you ever because you were always off doing jujutsu work, and oh - to see Gojo-san again after so many long years was a nice treat.

"Oh, my! Look at how tall you are! You are just a gorgeous creature!"

"Mooooom! Don't!" you stomped your foot on the ground, but you were clearly ignored as your mother reached out to grab Gojo by the arm. He snickered at how embarrassed you were and turned back to your mother.

"Oh, stop, please! I can't take this!" he smirked with a facetious tone which only made your mother howl in laughter.

"And look at this! Such a gentleman! He even brought my baby flowers!"

"Oh no, the bouquet is for you, ma'am." he handed over the stunning arrangement of red and white roses, adorned with a few pinecones and some candy canes mixed inbetween them all, tied together with a golden ribbon.

"Thank you for inviting me into your home. And, oh - I didn't know good looks ran in the family."

In the middle of hanging your coat and then Gojo's, your eyes widened at that comment. Gojo was definitely overdoing it and then some! After dear old Mom grabbed the flowers, she just started laughing and muttering oh my, oh my over and over. Well, at least Gojo had stolen her heart. This could all actually be believable. She turned her back for one second to let you two finish settling in, and you slapped Gojo on the arm as he was about to walk off. Stop it, you mouthed. He froze. Then, after eyeing you up, he gave you a push in turn as you nearly toppled over since you were removing your shoes and were a bit off balance. A cheap shot. Surely, he forgot how much stronger he was because you landed into the wall silently, nearly sliding down it (you didn't want your mother to see, so you tried so hard to be mute). Gojo twitched at you form clutching at the wall and swiftly hooked his arm beneath yours to steady you as he uttered a bunch of apologies.

Your eyes met, and you growled at him. The only thing you got in turn was another smirk and a stifled laugh. So you slapped him again, this time on the chest. He squinted his eyes. And he lightly slapped your arm in turn. Then you did it again. Then he did it again. Then arms started flailing everywhere. Then it turned into some stupid little slap fight straight out of a sitcom. When your mother called, you both immediately froze. She ushered you two into the dining room and in synch, you and Gojo merrily chased after her amidst the fluster.

When finally in the dining room, you gave hugs to your two sisters - one home from college and the other home from the Kyoto Jujutsu school (a teacher like yourself) - and greeted your dad sitting grumpily at the head of the table. You introduced Satoru as your boyfriend, and of course your sisters were immediately won over at how cute and tall he was. After that settled down, you placed presents under the Christmas tree and sat next to your beloved Satoru at the opposite head of the table. Among all the small chat, your mother came bustling in with an apron tied around her waist.

She frowned at Satoru, "Oh, honey, we're indoors. Take off your glasses!"

"No!" you slammed your hands on the table, and everyone turned to you with perplexed expressions. Realizing you were making an idiot of yourself, you stuttered. Your family was not super versed in jujustu, save for you and one sister, but you didn't want to explain how Satoru… um, functioned.

"Uh… um, he has… sensitive eyes!"

Satoru chuckled, extending out a hand to lay atop yours. He hummed in amusement as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

"I have excellent eyes." he drawled out, giving a small wink as you pouted.

"Don't be so modest, sweetheart." he purred, gripping the edge of his glasses between his thumb and index finger, "Besides, I don't want to be rude."

With a charming smile, Satoru removed his glasses. They brushed ever so lightly against his bangs, the white hair perfectly rolling off them. He opened his blue eyes, batting his snowy-white lashes before his gaze turned lidded. Okay, damn - but why did he have to make it so attractive? Your sisters sat at the edge of their seats, gasping as their faces broke out into wide smiles and for some reason, they grabbed onto each other and screamed. You slapped a hand over your forehead, groaning into the sky.

"Oh, my!" your mother exclaimed, placing a hand against her flushed cheek, "Gorgeous! Just gorgeous!"

Oh, god, why?

What an attention whore. Satoru knew he was good-looking, and he could absolutely back it up. If you thought about it, well… yeah, Satoru was fine as hell! Wait, that was beside the point! He was completely milking everyone there. Through all the cries, you all turned your heads at the sound of your father scoffing loudly and slamming a hand on the dinner table.

"Ain't no way my kid's marrying some sissy pretty boy!"

"Dad!"

You shrieked, face on fire from absolute embarrassment. Your sisters followed suit. He was the one bringing up marriage first? In a panic, you turned toward Satoru - babbling out apology after apology as you gripped his arm protectively. Oh, gosh you were not prepared for this rudeness, and you had not anticipated that your family might mouth off to Satoru. Dear old Dad was kind of rough around the edges, but no one could have predicted this. Satoru just blinked and calmly cocked his head to the side, seeming unphased.

As ironic as it sounded, thank goodness Satoru Gojo had an ego.

"Sir, I can assure you - "

"Alright, pretty boy. Get over here."

You all blinked as your dad firmly slapped his napkin on the table and rose from his seat. He walked over to the living room and pushed the coffee table out of the way.

"Let's have a little wrestle! Come on, let's see what you got!"

No.

No no no no no.

Except for Satoru who was amused, you all looked upon your father in dismay. Your mother ran into the room when she heard this crazy idea, and your sisters jumped up from their seats to urge everybody to sit down. This was the epitome of the embarrassing dad trope, but to actually ask Satoru Gojo to a spar on Christmas Eve? No, this had to be stopped!

"Bet he's never been in a real scuffle! Look at the car he rolled up in. I bet he's had everything handed to him his entire life!"

It surely went without saying that Satoru had definitely been in some fights and had definitely been through some things, but now was not the time to get into those details. It appeared the situation was only getting worse.

"This is ridiculous! We want Gojo-san to come back next year! Not scare him away!"

"Oh no, Dad, please stop this!"

"Not now, honey! Daddy's about to get to work!"

He took a fighting stance. It was insanely ridiculous. This could not get any worse, but you were wrong. So so so very wrong. Satoru chuckled as he fluidly rose from his chair, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Satoru, I - I'm so sorry! Please don't do this!"

A reassuring pat on your head silenced you.

"Now, now. It's fine. Daddy's about to get to work… and your old man is joining too."

Satoru winked. For a split second, you froze under his heated touch when his hand slid down your cheek and tucked underneath your chin, giving your head a gentle shake before he pulled away. A few seconds passed to register what Satoru had just said. Your face erupted into what felt like fire at the notion that Satoru just called himself daddy. At least he whispered it so only you could hear.

"Don't hold back on me just because I'm no spring chicken, pretty boy!"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." Satoru chided, giving a crack of his knuckles.

He paused.

"But I do need my good luck kiss from my sweetheart first."

Instantly, your eyes widened in shock, and your face went aflush with heat. "No, I don't think that's necessary… sweetheart!"

With crossed arms, you emphasized the cute petname as a warning. Poor you. That would never actually be enough to stop Satoru.

"You don't have to be shy, my love!" he stepped over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You were beyond frazzled. Now he was saying my love? Oh, he was really too much. His arms only tightened when you squirmed, and he pulled you closer. His lips puckered, and your eyes darted from them to his closed eyes to your family members staring at you weirdly for reluctantly not kissing him back. This display went on for a bit longer until you uttered under your breath.

"I said on the cheek!"

"Come on, they're watching. It's just a little peck!"

His arms gave a light squeeze.

"I could end this here and now and go home."

Right. Satoru really had no obligation to keep doing this favor, but did it have to be on his terms? Since the moment you stepped foot at the door, it was obvious he was going to torment you and behave in the most outlandish of ways. When you sharply took in a breath, you knew you had lost. He smirked. Nervously, your arms trembled as you struggled to lift your hands to his face. Quickly, you grabbed his cheeks and just pressed your mouth to his for not even a milisecond and pulled away. Satoru's arms let go of you, his eyelids drooping in a lusty manner. He smirked at the cute pout you gave him, eyebrows pulled together and everything. It was so embarrassing.

"Aw, thank you, my little good luck charm!"

Never had you wanted to run away from a family gathering so badly before. Your mom shook her head and giggled like a schoolgirl. Your sisters seethed with jealousy. Dad just squinted his eyes and grumbled in disgust.

"Oh, no you don't, pretty boy! Not in my house! Not without mistletoe!"

"Bring it on, old man."

The victor was long decided before the fight even started. You and your family watched in utter horror at Satoru and your father. You all jolted, clutching each other for support, covering your eyes, gasping, cringing, making faces as a few thwacks filled the air followed by your father's grunts and what sounded like bones cracking. Maybe Dad's spine perhaps? And before you knew it, Satoru had thrown him over his shoulder, and now Dad was on the floor.

And… Satoru was sitting on top of him.

Dad never stood a chance.

Satoru grinned, "I should have mentioned before that I'm an expert at martial arts!"

No no no no no, this could not be happening. You clapped your hands over your mouth. Dinner was over. Christmas Eve was over. Time to go home. You were prepared to high tail it out of there.

"O - Okay! I give!" your father screeched, "I'm sorry for calling you sissy! I misjudged you!"

Satoru got off him and extended out a hand to help your father up. At least he took those stupid insults with utmost grace. Mom ran forward with an ice pack in preparation as Dad cracked his back to loosen up once more. Instead of being livid… he just gripped Satoru's hand firmly in a handshake.

"Martial arts, huh? Very impressive, son!"

Oh, it was son now?

It was unbelievable that any of this was happening! Blinking off your initial shock, you ran right up to Satoru and curled your arms around his. With the fakest of smiles, you nuzzled your head into your boyfriend's arm.

"Oh, what a good fight! You're so strong, sweetheart! Now come sit down… and don't do anything!"

"Dinner's ready!"

Your father groaned as he sat in his chair, "G - great…"

Dinner went pretty normal. Satoru toned it down a notch for the time being. He laughed and placed his hand on your thigh when talking. He talked about his fancy car that all of a sudden your dad loved. They talked about Satoru's natural talent for martial arts again. He passed the potatoes when asked. He refused a glass of wine. There was some light conversation between the delicious food, and Satoru cracked a couple jokes here and there. Of course your tipsy parents laughed at everything he said and pried into your romantic life a bit more. They asked everything you could imagine, including why they hadn't heard you were dating Satoru Gojo sooner - however, Satoru was quick to explain it was all meant to be a fun surprise. At least he helped out there. It seemed he was bonefied boyfriend material.

But then, things started to go awry again.

When it was time to get up and move to the other room for opening gifts, Satoru promptly grabbed your hand and cleared his throat. As you stopped in place, you looked at him in a puzzled manner. He smirked at you, before placing a hand over his heart and sighing dramatically.

"Everyone, I have an announcement to make!"

"I knew it! My baby is pregnant!"

"NO, MOM!"

Through it all, you whipped your head to angrily meet Satoru's gaze. He held onto your hand tightly. With pleading eyes, you just silently begged him to get on with whatever this was. Because, to be honest, you were so sick of all these surprises from your fake boyfriend. Slowly, he got down on one knee. You felt your eyes widen as your jaw slowly dropped open.

You specifically said no proposal!

"I know we haven't been together for very long, but everything just feels… so right with you. Sweetheart, I love you."

SATORU, WHYYYYYY?

He pulled out a small navy velvet box. He opened it up to reveal the family ring inside he told you about only hours earlier. Now that you had gotten a better look, it was very pretty. It matched Satoru's eyes. In fact, it was a perfect copy of all the shine, all the sparkles, and all the clarity reflected in his own six eyes.

"Will you marry me?"

Although it was a fake proposal, you couldn't help the fact that your face heated up. For a moment, you clutched your free hand to your chest and your eyebrows pulled together. Your head tilted to the side as you gave him a dreamy look and such an adoring smile. When Satoru gave you a wink and whispered nice under his breath - you snapped out of it. Oh, yes! Remember this was all fake! With a slight gasp, you turned to see your family with wide smiles painted across their faces.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. For some reason, your throat was tightening as your breath quickened. Your eyebrows twitched in nervousness, and you blinked when tears started pooling at the corners of your eyes. Satoru blinked, nearly losing his happy expression upon seeing yours waver. Seeing your family like that… so happy, and all for nothing. This charade had gone on for too long now.

"No!"

Satoru's smile faded. And although all fake, you couldn't help but feel your heart rip in two at that hurt face Satoru gave. The way your heart dropped deep into the pit of your stomach upon meeting his azure eyes. You had put him through enough too. The feeling of being so sick welled deep inside your stomach.

Your family was just stunned to silence. Immediately, you turned to them.

"I'm sorry! This is all fake! Satoru and I aren't really dating! I just asked him to pretend being my boyfriend because I couldn't take another minute of you all pressuring me to find someone!"

With a deep breath and a sniffle, you looked down at the man on one knee.

"And I'm so sorry for asking you to do this! I've made fools out of us!"

With that, you ran off crying. Everyone stood in silence. The only noise made was the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut. A few more moments passed, and your mother gripped at your father's arm. There were slight tears in her eyes as well.

"Oh, I didn't mean to… we just want our baby to be happy, and… oh no, I've been terrible."

Your father rested his hand atop your mother's, "Dammit, we screwed up. I'll go talk to - "

"I'll go."

Satoru got up off his knee as he closed the box, returning it to his pocket.

"Oh, honey - "

Your mother began, but Satoru closed his eyes and gave a light smile,

"It's okay. I want to. We talk about everything."

With a blink, your father motioned his arm down the hall to point out the bathroom where you were currently sobbing in. Satoru glided down the hall smoothly, and his knuckles tapped at the door.

"Open up."

"No!" you managed to croak out between hiccups.

There was a brief pause.

"I will break down this door if I have to."

No response except for a sniff.

"I'm gonna do it!"

When you heard the doorknob jiggle, you gasped and immediately flung the door open. Satoru could most definitely break down the door, and easily too. So to save yourself more trouble for the evening, you opened it. Immediately, Satoru pushed you back inside and slammed the door behind him, locking it. You both just stared at each other for a while, until between all the sniffs, Satoru wiped a tear from your eye with his finger.

"Hey." he greeted softly with a small smile.

"Satoru, why don't you just go home?"

"I don't want to."

If you weren't so upset, you would have asked why. There was no energy for that as you were still drying the last of your tears and composing yourself. In attempts to ease the situation at hand, Satoru smiled and spoke his next words so casually. As if nothing had just happened.

"I gotta ask you a very important question."

"Right now? I don't think this is a good time."

He smiled again, seeming to ignore you.

"Will you go out with me?"

A beat.

"Oh, that's real funny, you jerk!"

"I'm serious."

He grabbed your hands in his own, looking at you with a calm and collected face. His blue eyes were slightly lidded again. Even in the crappy lighting of your parents' bathroom, they still shined. They still looked good. And Satoru looked damn good too.

"You said you'd do anything in return, and I want a date."

"Are… are you for real right now?"

"I've been wanting to ask you for a while actually."

You licked your lips at him. You titled your head to the side at the soft look in his eyes. He wasn't laughing, nor was he smiling, and he still held your hands in his own. He continued.

"So let's go on one date. And then you can decide from there if I'm being real or not."

Remember, he touched your butt. He got a kiss. Plus, he proposed to you. All that and you weren't even together. All that, even when you told him not to. If all of that happened, and you weren't even dating yet, then what would the real deal be like?

Satoru was so insufferable.

Maybe… it was all a little fun. And maybe, it did feel natural. Throughout the night, maybe you did think about actually having a relationship with Satoru Gojo. He was everything you needed and more. He was always there, and he made you laugh. There were countless memories with him. On top of that, maybe he'd let you touch his butt once in a while too. He was kind of hot, after all. Just kind of. And the butt. So with a smile, you let out a giggle.

"Yes, I'll go out with you."

A grin broke out on his face as he pulled you in for a hug. You buried your face in his chest and smiled when you reached your arms around to clutch the fabric of his shirt at his back. With a deep breath, you never realized how truly nice it was to hold him. Promptly, Satoru pulled back for a minute.

"Oh, by the way I am totally not kissing you in your parents' bathroom. Not hot at all."

He grinned again, and you broke out into laughter. You threw your head back as tears collected in your eyes from how hard you were laughing this time. Once you were able to calm down, Satoru shuffled and stuck his hands in his pocket again to pull out the sapphire ring from earlier.

"Oh yeah, will you at least keep this dumb ring?"

"I could never! That's a family heirloom!"

"Aw, please? It's old and dusty. I don't even want it." he scoffed, basically shoving it into your hands. You took a moment to study his face. He wasn't even looking you in the eye, and a pink hue was at his cheeks. A smirk appeared on your lips.

"You might need it someday."

With a wink, you placed it back in Satoru's hand, slowly closing his fingers around it. You didn't think it were possible, but Satoru's cheeks went even darker and redder in color. Unlike him, you actually knew when to stop tormenting the person you had a crush on. So you quickly changed the subject.

"So when do you want to go on a date?"

"You free tomorrow?"

"I'm all yours."

"All mine?" he purred, "I like the sound of that."

[jaggedjot]

Louis and Claudia are not just identifiable as American by way of their speech (“American? Your French is ugly.”) and movement (“You could tell from his walk, he was an American.”), but are posited by the narrative to be symbolic representations of postwar America itself (“The American vampires appeared to be as dull and plain as their tourists and soldiers were.”, “Do American vampiresses all wear pastels?”, “And are all American vampires as alluring as you?”). The pair set themselves up in France as “moneyed Americans”, described by Armand as having a “velvet-heeled arrival” despite the pair coming to the city on the back of a truck. That Paris has been left by the war with deep physical and societal wounds is treated as an inconvenience that they have to impatiently endure. Santiago picks at these stitches during the performative execution of the pointedly foreign Annika, invoking the paranoia of occupation with his line “[...] the next time you're in the pew, you turn to your neighbour and say, ‘Peace be unto you.’ They'll give you up... in a wink!”. It is telling that the only explanation Armand gives for his choice of victims to the coven is that they are profiteering from the suffering of postwar France (“Whilst their countrymen clutch ration cards, they've made quite a killing manipulating the black markets.”), a statement which seems to deepen their appetite for the ensuing slaughter. These are not resentments and histories however shared by Claudia, who may revel in the massacre but has already knowingly associated with a woman branded as a collaborator, or Louis, whose attempts to engage with the world through photography only further positions him as an outsider. This detachment is what causes Louis and Claudia to be regarded as interlopers, suspected to believe themselves to be too important to heed traditions, manners (“It's custom and practice for traveling vampires to make themselves known”) or the welfare of their temporary home (“We were constantly cleaning up for them.”). Though American soldiers played a role in the later stages of the liberation of Paris, the increasing presence of Americans in the city is framed as another more insidious occupation (“[...] our Anglican friends now invading Paris postwar”, “My dear American friend [...] who has dominated my mind”). As Americans, Louis and Claudia are granted more privileges in society than other black ethnics groups (“But I wasn't an Algerian. I was an American”). It is not just that the French theatre troupe composed of multinational actors now has “five out of every seven” of their performances in English, but the coven has been instructed by Armand to remake itself as “an English company” and speak the language offstage too. Armand’s welcoming attitude to increasing American influence in the city, how it creates a “more receptive” and “optimistic” audience, is not a simple or universal one. There is a distinct bitterness belying the fanfare accompanying Louis and Claudia’s arrival, particularly from Santiago (“I ask you, Maitre, was it worth the wait?”), but it is also notably still present in Armand’s lighthearted teasing (“Seventy-seven years and it still feels like a slight.”, “Five months removed [...] the Americans were finally coming to Pigalle.”). At least during these early months, Louis and Claudia seem to view Paris more as a static backdrop against which they can discover themselves and heal their relationship. This is a mistake that they will likely only realise when it is already too late, for this fragile and volatile setting is entwined with the tragedy that awaits them.

[asdfghjklmals]

TO BE PRESENT✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and comfort. WORD COUNT: 4.6k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. boyfriend!gojo. stsg break up.

SYNOPSIS: suguru geto is sentenced to death by the jujutsu society, and oc gojo girlfriend is left to pick up the broken pieces of satoru gojo's heart, but will she be enough? AUTHOR'S NOTE: lots of dialogue from the actual anime/manga. i tried to shorten the dialogue and add lots of emotion and descriptions. in the manga, gojo actually finds megumi and tsumiki after suguru leaves, but in this au, we found the kids first. the vibe is the song ‘no good’ by dvsn. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

suguru geto was the balance to satoru gojo. the yin to his yang. they were vital to each other, mutually complementing each other, needing each other to coexist. there was the calm and rational suguru, and there was the bold and rash satoru. their bond so strong that together, they were known as the strongest.

when you joined the school less than a year ago, it was always 'sashisu'. satoru gojo, shoko ieri, and suguru geto were the three musketeers. they were inseparable. they welcomed you into their little trio with loving arms (it took awhile for satoru, but we're here now).

when you first met suguru, you thought he was the nicest human being you had ever met. you questioned how such a gentle and caring man could be bestfriends with someone like the insolent satoru gojo.

suguru had been acting strange a couple weeks after the incident with toji fushiguro. he looked tired, worn out. almost dissatisfied with how things were going. he questioned himself as if he was going to be left behind in terms of strength and growth as a sorcerer. satoru’s powers were increasing by the day, and if satoru was getting stronger, so were the curses that they had to exorcise. this was draining for suguru, absorbing curses wasn't the most appetizing thing, and it was tiresome to him.

the day that yaga-sensei had brought satoru into his office for a chat was the day you and shoko eavesdropped from outside his office to find out more information about your absent friend. suguru geto had gone missing after his mission in a small village outside of tokyo. the jujutsu society had sent their team to investigate.

“what?” satoru gasped. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“don’t make me repeat myself, satoru… suguru fled after killing everyone in the village.” yaga-sensei buried his face in his hands. he started to massage his temple.

“i heard you, sensei.” satoru sighed in disbelief. there was no way suguru would do that, he knew his bestfriend. at least, he thought he did.

“his parents’ home is vacant as well. however, from the blood stains and residuals… it seems like he might have killed his family.”

yaga-sensei and satoru had no idea what to think. they were also at a loss for words.

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

suguru’s vile act alone would deem him as a curse user and a death sentence was the punishment from the jujutsu society. he was now the enemy. satoru couldn’t believe it, he didn't want to. he slammed his dorm room door shut after he heard the news, leaving you and shoko alone to deal with the aftermath. you had never seen satoru like this since you joined jujutsu high. (a/n: it’s actually a death sentence that’s the punishment, oops!)

“shoko, i—” you were going to start word vomiting out of nervousness.

“(y/n), it’s okay. you don’t have to say anything.” the medical student put her hand on your shoulder. you pulled her in for a hug. you could hear her sigh. she was the bridge between satoru and suguru.

throughout the years of being their friend, shoko ieri was the middle ground, the center, the happy medium. whenever satoru and suguru fought, she was the mediator. whenever they experienced the best of times together, she got to bare witness and experience it with them too. you could say that shoko ieri was the glue to satoru gojo and suguru geto.

“i know where to find suguru. let’s go meet him.” shoko motioned quietly to you.

“should we let satoru know?” you questioned her. you worried about your boyfriend, would he be okay being left alone? should you go to his side to comfort him instead?

“no, let him brood for a bit. he might bite you if you try to open his door.” she teased.

shinjuku, japan

“how did you know he would be here in shinjuku?” you asked shoko, you both watched as suguru walked towards you both. she just smiled before calling out to him.

“need a light?” she asked the banished sorcerer, holding up her lighter.

“hey you two,” he greeted the both of you as if he didn’t commit mass murder two days ago.

“well, well, well, if it isn’t the culprit himself. are all the accusations about you true?” she interrogated him nonchalantly while lighting a cigarette for him.

“i’m afraid they are. shoko, (y/n), i'm going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. and i don’t need everyone to understand that.”

“sulking because no one understands you… sounds childish if you ask me.” shoko took out her phone and dialed a number, “hey, gojo? geto’s here. yeah, me and (y/n) are in shinjuku.” she hung up the phone and turned to you.

“come on, (y/n), we don’t want to get caught in this crossfire.” she took your hand and started to lead you away from suguru.

“hold on,” you let go of her hand and turned to walk back to suguru.

his face full of surprise, “(y/n), what’s on your mind? i’m surprised you’re not with satoru right now.”

he scratched the back of his head with a smile. he knew that satoru relied on you for comfort and solace. you and satoru we’re always with each other. if satoru wasn’t with suguru, he was most likely with you.

“uhm, i—” you stumbled over your words, “i wanted to thank you, uh, for being so nice to me when i joined jujutsu high. you always had my back during our missions together, and you made sure i was okay... you even defended me when satoru was being a jerk to me when i first started at the school. thank you for being his bestfriend. i’m sorry things turned out this way, suguru.” you reached towards him to hug him. this would most likely be the last time you would see him.

suguru hugged you back. you two were still friends after all. you felt a strong, but familiar cursed energy, it gave you the chills. you let go of suguru and patted his chest, giving him a soft smile. you turned to walk away as you saw the face of your distraught boyfriend looking at you.

you looked into his eyes, he wasn’t wearing his typical circular black sunglasses. his eyes were solemn and dull, the opposite from his standard blazing bright blue. his white hair wisped just below his lashes. he didn’t say a word to you, even though you could feel his all emotions wanting to explode from him. you reached for satoru’s hand and gave him a soft, encouraging squeeze. he swallowed as you patted his shoulder and you walked away with shoko. you knew that this was between satoru and suguru, and no one else.

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

“suguru. explain yourself.” satoru called out to his bestfriend.

“you already heard, didn’t you? that’s all there is to it.” suguru said in a very cordial manner.

“that’s all you needed to convince yourself to kill non-sorcerers and your parents?!” satoru couldn’t believe what he was hearing, couldn't fathom what was coming out of suguru’s mouth.

“it wouldn’t be fair if i made an exception for my parents. besides, my family now consists of more than just them.” suguru had thought about the twin girls he had saved from the village. they were the ones he wanted to protect now.

“that’s not what i’m talking about. you were the one who said pointless killing is useless.” satoru was losing his cool. what had happen to his reasonable bestfriend?

“killing all non-sorcerers to make a world of only sorcerers is impossible.” satoru argued.

“you could do it, satoru. you’re trying to convince me that it’s impossible when you yourself could do it if you wanted to.” suguru believed that his goal of making a world of only jujutsu sorcerers was something he could make happen, which is why he was willing to give up everything to do it.

satoru’s eyes widened. what in the world was suguru talking about?

“are you the strongest because you’re satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you’re the strongest?”

“what the hell are you trying to say?!” satoru shouted in frustration. he still wasn't understanding.

“if i could be you, wouldn’t my impossible ideals become possible? this is the life i’ve chosen, all i can do now is give it all i’ve got. if you want to kill me, kill me. there would be meaning in that too.” suguru turned away to start his journey, without satoru by his side.

and that’s where satoru gojo had to make the decision between killing his bestfriend or letting the curse user walk freely. satoru held out his right hand, slowly connecting his thumb and his middle finger. he’d never successfully used this cursed technique before, it was one of the strongest moves in the gojo clan that only a few clan members knew about. hollow purple.

he couldn’t bring himself to do it. he curled his fist and retreated his hand in defeat as he watched as suguru walked away from him in pursuit of his own goals in life. even if that meant that they wouldn’t be present in each other’s anymore.

tokyo jujutsu high

again, you and shoko stood behind the school's front entrance where satoru and yaga-sensei were talking, listening in on their conversation after satoru had returned from shinjuku.

“why did you let him go?” yaga-sensei asked as satoru grumbled on the cold concrete steps of tokyo jujutsu high school.

“are you really asking me that?” satoru couldn’t tell him that he didn't have the guts to kill his bestfriend.

“no, you’re right. i’m sorry.” he apologized. he knew it would be hard for satoru to cope. suguru was his bestfriend after all, his one and only.

“sensei... i’m strong, right?” he asked his teacher.

“yes, you are. in the impudence department too.” yaga-sensei bantered with him.

“it seems like just me being strong isn’t enough. i can only save those who want to be saved.” satoru said while looking out into the distance. he was tired of being the one who had to do all the saving. he wished he could ask for help. he didn't want to be alone anymore.

later that night

you made sure that megumi and tsumiki were sleeping soundly before you left your dorm room to return to satoru's. it had been three months since satoru brought them home to you, and two weeks since suguru had left the school.

things between you and satoru had felt strained due to the lack of communication. however, he never failed to show you affection in a hug or a kiss, or even just by holding hands. you felt the tension climbing, distance between you both growing. even though you slept next to him in his bed every night, it still felt cold. the warmth from the love you two shared had started to die down.

you understood that suguru meant the world to satoru. he was important to him, he loved him. one of your very first conversations as a couple was about the people he cared about in his life, he mentioned shoko and suguru's name. that was also the night he told you that you were one of them too. someone that he cared about.

"can't sleep?" satoru softly asked. your tossing and turning must have kept him awake.

"i'm worried about you." you knew he was going to deflect in 3... 2... 1—

"well, you don't have to worry about me, babe. i'm fine." satoru downplayed his emotions and you hated it.

"you are not fine, satoru." you argued as you stared at the popcorn ceiling above you.

you could feel his eyes studying you, he shifted his body to face you. "whoa, what's with the government name and attitude?" he joked.

"now's not the time for jokes. i'm being serious. we need to talk." you sat up in his bed abruptly.

he could hear in your tone that something was upsetting you. "what's wrong, (y/n)?"

"everything…” you whispered quietly.

tears started to form in your eyes. satoru sat up in his bed, the tone of your voice alarmed him. his heart started to race as he felt an uncertain feeling in his chest. was this fear he was feeling?

"you aren't okay and you won't admit it. it's distracting you from being present. you missed tsumiki's dance recital at school, you forgot to pick up the kids two days ago, and you aren't all there when we spar at jujutsu practice. i've never been able to land any of my cursed techniques on you before, and you got hurt because of that."

satoru had been so absentminded and distracted that you caught him off guard with his infinity off, your ice shard grazed his arm during the spar. you had to heal him with your reversed cursed energy that day.

"and what hurts the most is that i can feel you shutting me out every time i try to talk to you. i'm supposed to be your partner in life, satoru. i don't want you to push me away. if you’re not okay, i’m not okay.” you expressed as tears streamed down your face.

satoru didn't have any words to say, no excuses to come up with. he acknowledged that you tried to talk to him multiple times since suguru had left, but he didn't want to add more to your plate. you were taking care of the kids, taking on missions alone, all while trying to keep up with your studies to make sure you made it to graduation. he didn't want to burden you any more with his ridiculous bestfriend drama.

"i'm not allowed to be sad or weak. i have to be strong, (y/n). i don't have time to be caught up in my emotions." satoru said. you swear you heard his voice waver even though he was trying to 'be strong'.

"just because people call you the strongest, you think you can’t be sad or weak? satoru, that doesn't mean you can't confide in me. i promised you that i would be there for you. for whatever you need." you wiped your tears.

"satoru..."

"yeah, baby?"

"do you love me?"

"of course i do. i love you so much." satoru replied quietly.

"then can you just tell me what you're feeling right now?" you asked through your quivering voice.

and for the first time in 18 years, satoru gojo did not have any words to say. not a joke. no innappropriate comment. not a speck of sarcasm. nothing. he couldn't tell you how he felt, as much as he wanted to scream and shout and tell you how he was hurting and that he didn't want to be alone. the little voice in the back of his head told him not to, that he didn't deserve to.

you have had enough tonight. you got up from your side of the bed and put on your jujutsu high robe, "i think i should go check up on the kids." tears still streaming down your cheek as you quickly brushed them away. satoru couldn't even watch you leave his room. he knew that once you left his room tonight, you wouldn’t be coming back to it. the door shut behind you and he felt his heart breaking more.

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

you opened the door to your room quietly, trying not wake up the kids, but megumi was a light sleeper. he woke up instantly and looked at you. tsumiki was a heavy sleeper and nothing could wake her up. you sniffled and collected yourself. you didn’t want him to know you were crying.

“(y/n), did you and gojo-sensei fight?” megumi rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand to wake himself up. he shifted his body over to make room for you on your king sized bed.

"that obvious, huh?" you scoffed.

you thanked god that megumi and tsumiki were still tiny and that three people could fit on your bed or you'd be sleeping with shoko right now. you laid down next to megumi and got under the covers. he was the most observant 5 year old ever. megumi was intelligent, calculated, and strong. gojo had a blast training with him. you both knew he was going to be an amazing sorcerer when he grows up.

“there are just some things that we aren’t agreeing on right now, megumi.” you patted his head, his blue hair slipping through your fingers.

“i think he just needs some time alone to think. he's been busy.” the child spoke on behalf of satoru.

“busy enough that he forgot to pick you guys up from school?” you were so angry with him for that. it was his job to pick them up that day because you were on a mission.

“it’s okay, we just called nanami to pick us up.” megumi tried defending him with his own little peculiar statement. you never thought you’d see the day megumi would be defending satoru.

“it’s not okay, megumi. i want him to be there for you and tsumiki. like we promised. i want him to be present.”

the next morning

the next morning was awkward and the air was still filled with tension. satoru always accompanied you to get the kids ready for school. he knocked on your dorm door to find you doing tsumiki’s hair while megumi was sitting patiently, waiting for you two to finish.

“oh… you guys got started already.” he said, trying to hide the hurt. he felt a little betrayed as this was supposed to be your morning routine together.

“here, you finish putting the clips in her hair.” you gave him the jar full of different colored butterfly clips and got up to retreat to your bathroom so you could finish getting ready.

satoru sighed and looked at tsumiki and megumi. they were awfully quiet this morning, their usual selves would be chirping back and forth at each other. laughter was always present in your morning routine, but not today.

“she’s still mad at me, huh?” satoru asked the children.

tsumiki smiled awkwardly at him and nodded while megumi snapped at him, “just tell her how you feel, idiot.”

“whoa, what’s with the attitude, megumi?” satoru asked, he was surprised with the 5 year old’s tone.

“i just don’t like seeing (y/n) cry.” satoru knew that you were megumi's favorite guardian, in fact, everyone knew.

“yeah? me either, kiddo.” satoru frowned. he attached two pink butterfly clips in tsumiki’s hair. he heard you shuffling through your bathroom drawers, afraid to turn around to face you once you exited the bathroom.

he took a deep breath and looked over at you. he could see through your makeup that your eyes were still swollen from crying last night, skin glowing from the flushed cheeks. god, how could you still look so beautiful after crying?

“ready for breakfast?” you asked your unconventional family. tsumiki smiled and nodded, trying her best to brighten up the room. megumi grabbed your hand to hold (and comfort) as he led the way to the dining hall. satoru felt envious that it wasn’t him holding your hand instead. but what could he do?

later that afternoon

after you dropped the kids off at school, you and satoru walked back through the jujutsu high courtyard. the cobblestone walkway felt cold and the surrounding trees felt like they were about to swallow the both of you into a dark abyss. the only thing you could hear was the wind and your soft footsteps.

you and satoru didn’t hold hands. you didn’t even link your arm through his like you usually did. and he sure felt the bitterness from you today. you walked side by side together. the silence was deafening until you broke it.

“satoru… i’m going to take megumi and tsumiki back with me to my clan’s estate for the semester break… and i don’t think i want you to come with us. i’ll tell touya you’re going to see your family instead.” you held back your tears. satoru stopped in his tracks, you were two steps ahead of him.

“but baby, i—” he began to say.

you turned around to face him, “ever since suguru left, you’ve changed. you’ve been distant, you avoid every conversation i try to have with you. and you’re the type of person who always tries to talk things out right away… even though you know i'm usually the one that needs time. so now, i’m giving you the time you need so you can decide what you want to do with your life and where your priorities lie…”

“that’s not fair, (y/n).” satoru snapped at you. how could you take the kids and leave him alone?

“what’s not fair to you?!” you lashed back at him. you saw the defeated and distraught look in his face and it crushed you. it was the same expression he had when he spoke with suguru in shinjuku.

“just—don’t. don’t start crying again.” he mumbled. it was always game over for him when you started crying. seeing you cry was one of the worst feelings next to his favorite kikufuku stand running out of his favorite flavor. it was too late, the tears started to flow again.

satoru took a step closer towards you, testing out the waters on if you would let him approach you or if you would push him away. once he didn’t sense any resistance from you, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you so tightly you couldn’t breathe. he didn't want to let go. everyone knew that you couldn’t be without each other, so why was he feeling like you were leaving him behind, just like suguru did?

when he finally loosened his arms around you, you gently caressed his cheek with your left hand. satoru had finally felt your warmth again. he melted into your hand and closed his eyes. you could see a layer of tears forming on his white lashes.

you kissed his cheek and softly said, “take the time you need to figure things out during the semester break. me and the kids will be here when you get back. i promise.”

two weeks later

satoru had spent two weeks with his own clan during the semester break. it was refreshing for him to speak with his clan elders to get a little insight on what he could work on next, he spent time perfecting his techniques, and just finally relaxed for once. during this time to himself, he was able to combine blue and red to perform a successful hollow purple. he even mastered his long distance teleportation. there was one person who he couldn't wait to tell about his success, it was you.

although he was busy training and enjoying the time with his own clan, he spent a lot of time thinking about suguru's betrayal and how to be present for the kids like you had asked him to. but there was one thing person that wouldn’t leave his mind, it was you.

after a couple days of brooding, satoru came to the conclusion that he would never get over suguru's actions, but he knew that he wanted to be better than suguru. he was going to become a teacher at jujutsu high as soon as his third year was over, and he was going to raise strong and intelligent allies. with no hesitation, he knew who his first ally would be, it was you.

satoru still felt like he was missing something someone in his life, even though he was surrounded by his clan. you, megumi, and tsumiki were 6 hours away in osaka with your clan, but satoru still felt like his heart was 247 miles away (the distance between osaka and tokyo). he knew what his heart was missing, it was you.

satoru gojo didn’t care for many things in life. he kept his circle small, his family was very prominent but low key, and he was pretty private about his own life. he didn’t care about protecting anyone until he met you, (y/n) from the osaka (l/n) clan. the most beautiful water and ice cursed technique user he had ever laid his pretty blue eyes on. satoru was never shy at telling you he loved you, but today was the day he realized just how much he did. satoru called out to his grandparents before he teleported to your clan's estate, "gramps, grams, i'm heading out to (y/n)'s. we'll see you at the next semester break. and we'll bring tsumiki and megumi to meet everyone too!"

satoru gojo knew who he wanted to see, and it was you.

osaka, japan

"(y/n)!" tsumiki cried out for you frantically.

you rushed out of your family's minka to see what the 6 year old was shrieking about. your heart skipped a beat to see a white-haired, blue-eyed sorcerer holding her in his arms as she was hugging him tightly. tsumiki had the biggest smile on her face. she had missed her partner in crime these past two weeks... you and her both.

"(y/n), it's gojo-sensei! he came to see us!" she waved towards you, signaling that satoru was there and for you to come over quickly. satoru was actually here. he was present.

your brother looked at you and smiled, "it looks like someone missed you, sis." he patted your shoulder before standing up from the steps of the minka, "i'll have the housekeepers get a spare room ready for him."

you smiled at your brother as he left your side. you stood on the steps of your family estate. your hand perched on your hip, a laugh breaking through to show your pearly whites, hiding your eyes with your cheeky smile. it had been awhile since satoru saw the smile that he loved so much.

you gave up your solid front and started walking towards satoru. he put tsumiki down and did the same. soft footsteps started to turn into a brisk walk, the brisk walk started to turn into a sprint, the sprint towards each other turned into a colliding embrace.

"what are you doing here, satoru?" you mumbled in his chest as you tried to catch your breath from your sprinting.

"i missed you, (y/n)." satoru said with his eyes closed, inhaling your scent. he missed your nectarine and honey blossom perfume that always lingered around him too.

"i missed you too."

satoru leaned down to kiss your forehead. you smiled softly as his lips trailed down to your temple and then to your cheek. you held his face with your hands and pulled him in for a kiss on his soft pink lips. he broke your kiss to look down at you. he had something he wanted to say.

"babe, the past two weeks i took a lot of time for myself to think. the one common denominator that always came to my mind was you. i'm sorry for the way i acted. i'm going to try my best to communicate with you from now on. i won't leave you in the dark anymore." satoru pledged with his heart.

"thank you, satoru." you whispered. you held him a bit tighter.

"you pinky promise?" megumi asked out of the nowhere. you and satoru looked down at the blue haired child with tsumiki by his side. you both started laughing as your intimate moment was interrupted by your adopted children. (read ‘pinky promises’ here)

satoru flashed his signature grin at megumi, "yeah, i pinky promise, kiddo."

megumi and tsumiki approached you both to join in on the family group hug. you and satoru crouched down to embrace them as you kissed the top of their heads.

satoru softly said to the kids, "from now on, i promise to be present."

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[lovelytsunoda]

bare feet on linoleum // pato o ward

summary: when the voices in her head get loud, pato is there to keep her grounded

pairing: pato o ward x female reader

warnings: mentions of intrusive and anxious thoughts. title taken from the poem by lana del rey.

it always happened when she had nothing else to think about.

today, she was sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by her extended family. the trip home had been long awaited, and now she sat with her grandparents and her cousins, her four-year-old niece perched on the stool at the end of the table, a euros match playing softly from the small tv in the background.

nothing had even triggered it. in fact, it was almost a decision her mind made of its own accord: you have nothing else to think about right now, why don’t we get distressed?

in an instant, the vivid thought took over, a sucky feeling coating her limbs. she felt sluggish, clutching her hand into a fist next to her salad. her eyes seemed to cloud over as she missed something her grandad said (although it was probably a line of conversation she didn’t want to follow).

“amorcito?” patos voice was quiet, his hand reaching to unclench hers. she was gripping her knife in a white knuckled grasp, and he was worried she’d hurt herself, albeit unintentionally. “where’d you go, pretty girl?” his words were soothing, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on her skin.

she took a deep breath, attempting to let the thought go and bring herself back to the present moment. “sorry. I just got a little lost in my head there for a minute. my brain has decided to be a bitch today.”

“hey,” pato kept his voice low, gentle fingers slipping through hers to cradle her hand. “none of that. do you want to talk about it?”

she shook her head, voice crackly as the thought bounced around, turning the inside of her head into an echo chamber. “not particularly.”

pato nodded. he wasn’t going to push her, knowing she was scared of being judged for the thoughts that caused her distress, even if the rational part of her brain knew that her sweet boy was the last person who would judge her for anything. if she didn’t want to talk about the thought, however big or small, because sometimes they were small things that felt like big things, the least he could do was hold her close and remind her that she was more than her thoughts.

“come here.” he said softly, slipping a warm arm around her shoulders, and allowing her to rest her weight against him.

she sighed into his embrace, feeling his arm wrap around her as she gripped his hand tighter, desperately trying to redirect her thoughts, searching for something else to focus her mind on.

patos lips were warm against her forehead, the subtle mexican lilt to his voice soothing as he spoke “you are more than your bad thoughts. whatever it is, it will pass, okay my love?”

she nodded, turning to press a quick kiss to the skin on patos neck. just being in his arms was helping relieve the bad feeling. she no longer felt shaky, a contented warmth filling her veins. her mind cleared, though it still felt hazy as she thought about her boyfriend.

“think about something good.” he encouraged, the pair still oblivious to the world around them. “what book are you reading right now?”

she thought about it, her mind travelling to the wholesome crime caper she had started the night before, her mind honing in on the troupe of meddlesome old ladies attempting to solve a murder.

she also thought about her niece, who had just said something rather funny about prawns that she managed to catch through the haze of her mind.

she laughed along with the group, slowly coming back to herself as england scored a goal in the match that still played near the kitchen sink.

while her cousin and grandparents began to cheer, she turned to pato.

“thank you.”

he smiled softly, resting his forehead against hers. “you don’t need to thank me, amorcito. I’m always here when you need me.”

“y/n,” her cousin started “do you want to help me move the plates?”

if nicole had caught on that yn was lost in her head, she didn’t show it, but yn was thankful for another task to do. something to keep her busy.

after the table had been cleared, the football match relocated to another tv, her niece curled up in the couch with her father, yn stood in the dining room doorway, leaning against pato and allowing her mind to wander again, this time into what she hoped would be happier territory: one filled with visions of her own future.

as the match reached half time, natalie reached into the record cabinet, putting on a soft folksy record by a british artist yn had never heard of.

when the soft music began to play, pato folded yn into his arms, beginning to sway softly back and forth as he held her. she would always feel safe in his arms, shrouded in a sense of calm that was like nothing else as she rested her head against his chest.

when she was with pato, all of her insecurities, all of her anxiety, all of her negative thoughts, fell away. he’s, the odd negative thought would always find its way through, but pato would be there for her through it all.

when she was with pato, she was just her.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @userlando @thatsdemko @httpiastri

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - nonconsensual drug use, kidnapping/imprisonment, nonconsensual touching, and obsessive behavior.

One of them put something in your tea.

You think it was Alhaitham – smug, scheming Alhaitham, who never greeted you with anything more than a dead-eyed stare and never kept you for anything less than an hour when he called you aside for a one-sided conversation in his rarely used office nestled in among the highest alcoves of the Akademiya. You didn’t trust him, didn’t like how willing he was to abandon his duties in favor of chasing whatever his fickle curiosity latched onto, didn’t feel comfortable with the way his eyes pried into you when you were alone together. He’d been the one to invite you over to the apartments he and Kaveh shared, too, to ignore your requests to see the artifacts he claimed to have found during his latest expedition in favor of forcing one of Kaveh's well-love clay mugs into your hands. It’d probably been him. It’d make sense, to both your rational mind and the sentimental creature inside of you, if it’d been him.

Which is exactly why the scholar constantly gnawing at the back of your mind – ever-doubtful, ever-distrusting – screamed that it had to have been Kaveh. You liked him more than you liked Alhaitham, trusted him more than you could ever trust Alhaitham, and he’d had just as much time with the drink that’d just barely touched your lips, muttering about Alhaitham’s nonexistent sense of taste as he shoveled sugar into your mug by the spoonful. You admired him, too; unlike Alhaitham, Kaveh threw himself wholly and entirely into his work, his research, and he’d never had to corner you to have your full attention. That was why it was so easy to tell yourself that you should’ve been more careful, that you should’ve been more wary of the threat that presented itself as aid than the one who wore its true colors proudly. It was definitely Kaveh. Or, it was definitely Alhaitham.

Or, it didn’t matter which one of them put something in your tea, because one of them had put something in your tea and neither of them seemed to care.

You could already feel some of the more pronounced effects setting in; your hands limp and numb where they’d fallen into your lap, your tongue dry and swollen in your mouth, your vision already beginning to blur around the edges. You were still sitting at their claustrophobic kitchen table, Kaveh less than arm’s length to your right and Alhaitham far enough to stare you down from a careful distance, but you had to strain to listen to their conversation. “You’re never home,” Kaveh droned, in the tone he only seemed to use when talking to Alhaitham. “The poor thing would die of neglect in the first week. You couldn’t take care of a houseplant, much less a person.”

“Houseplants require a great deal of research and intuition. People tend to be much louder about their wants and needs.” Likewise, Alhaitham was using the tone he saved exclusively for Kaveh; one of self-gratifying neutrality, as if the pedestal he’d put himself on was too tall to let him notice something as insignificant as Kaveh’s frustration. “And it's not as if you can be trusted with this kind of responsibility. Not for any longer than a few hours, at least.”

There was a beat of silence. When Alhaitham failed to go on, Kaveh let out an exasperated groan. “What’s that supposed to mean, scribe?”

“Oh, only that an architect as passionate as you are tends to be easily distracted. I’d give it...” He quirked his head to the side, gaze shifting to something purposefully distant. “…three days before a new proposal catches your eye, and I know how difficult it can be for you to balance more than one project at a time.”

“See, that’s your problem. You think of them as an object that must be dusted off once or twice a week, whereas I see them as my beautiful and beloved lover who I want nothing more than to spend time with.” Something about Alhaitham’s frown quirked, and Kaveh hastily corrected himself. “Alright, my soon-to-be lover. It doesn’t matter – even if I don’t take the first turn, they’ll be in my loving arms eventually, and once they are, they'll never want to go back to yours. I’d tell you to save yourself a heartbreak, but I’m still not sure if you have a heart.”

Now it was Alhaitham’s turn to put on a façade of mock-exasperation, letting out a breathy exhale as he leaned onto the tabletop. “Timing can be very important. Whatever we do, whoever gets to do it – they’re going to set a precedent. Since I don’t want to have another brat under my roof, we have to be careful.”

To his credit, Kaveh didn’t try to deny it, merely leveling the accusation back at Alhaitham. “You? Careful? Which one of us thought he could take the General Mahamatra in a fight?”

And, to Alhaitham’s credit, he didn’t waste his breath trying to fight for his innocence, either. Rather, he turned to you, sharp eyes immediately piercing the very depths of your soul. “(Y/n),” and then, in a voice slightly softer than the one he’d addressed Kaveh with, “What do you think? You’re rational enough to know who’d take better care of you.”

You managed to open your mouth, to pry your lips apart and start to spit out something halfway coherent.

Then, without making a sound, you collapsed onto their table, knocking your mug to its side and spilling Alhaitham's awful tea onto their tiled floor.

Kaveh reacted first, gasping as he gathered you in his arms. You were dead weight, barely able to hold your own head up, but he made an effort to keep you upright, to pretend you were in any way acting of your own will as he pulled you against his chest and raked his calloused fingers against your damp hair. “Aw, look at the poor thing! I told you to use a smaller dose.”

The gratification was minimal, dampened by panic and exhaustion too ebbing to be natural. Something seemed to light behind Alhaitham’s dull eyes, and in turn, something jagged turned in your stomach. “I still need an answer,” he reiterated. You did your best to glare, to thrash Kaveh’s hold, but you could barely twitch, barely keep yourself conscious, and Alhaitham went on undeterred. “We’ll have to ask again once your head’s started to clear. The effect should only last for a few days – a week, at most, to give you time to adjust.”

Kaveh’s attention drifted downward, his lips brushing against the side of your throat. You felt his hair ghost over your shoulder as his head dipped lower, as his heart beat just a little faster against your back. Your eyes found Alhaitham, and for the first time since you’d first met him, his scowl broke to reveal a small, sharp smile.

“Until then, there should be enough of you to share.”

[sepublic]

Spoilers for Dracula!!!

Something I considered regarding a modern, found footage-style adaptation of Dracula is how Dracula himself is depicted within it. Because we know that he doesn't appear in reflections, and while the original lore does state this is due to silver being present in most mirrors, I also want to consider the scrapped character of Francis Aytown, who didn't make it into the final novel. I speculate that Aytown would've been an artist driven mad attempting to recreate Dracula's likeness in painting, only to fail; This is another understated aspect of vampire lore, that vampires don't show up in photos, or even likenesses, because your image is a reflection of your soul. And vampires don't have any.

So consider: Turns out that Dracula has installed security cameras across some parts of his castle. Which sounds hilarious, the old vampire learning technology and having to install these things, or hiring some poor sod to do it for him like he hired Jonathan (in other words, it's actually befitting his character).

Likewise, the first time we the viewer see Dracula, it's while he's disguised as a driver to Jonathan. Jonathan is recording him through his phone like a vlogger because he's never gotten to travel before (being dirt poor), and he wants Mina to share in this opportunity as much as he can while she's at home. And he doesn't realize it as he films, because Jonathan isn't looking at his phone footage just yet.

But Dracula doesn't show up. The viewer sees Jonathan talking to what must be an invisible figure, not normally because he's creeped out by his vibes. But he talks to Dracula like he isn't invisible and couldn't possibly consider that he might be to others. The same goes for the locals, who are terrified of this 'driver' and can clearly see him.

The found footage then transitions to the security cameras in Dracula's castle, as I mentioned before; It's a way for him to keep track of Jonathan and control him, and the cameras are probably hidden too! Again, we have the invisible, unseen Dracula, to really tease the audience as they wonder when Jonathan will find out.

And in the morning, he finally realizes something's wrong when he sees the count has no reflection in the mirror, and we the viewer might finally connect the dots that oh yeah! If Dracula doesn't show up in mirrors, he wouldn't show up in camera footage either! Cue later vlogs and other security footage having Jonathan check through his phone and realizing the recordings don't show Dracula; Though this is assuming Dracula hasn't already gotten rid of his phone as a means of isolation and control.

During the Demeter portion of the film, we have security footage on the cargo ship. The captain checks it when he sees crewmen claim they saw a stowaway, and he sees... nothing. He sees a crewman freaking out at an empty space; It's not as if the stowaway could be off-camera, because there's a wall right behind where the crewman claims he is. It really looks as if the guy is just insane and hallucinating, and the captain angrily tells him to lay off the booze, especially on night duty.

This could be another way to trick the characters; Maybe they do set up cameras to keep track of Lucy, having considered that maybe there is an intruder, or at least some giant vampire bat. And they see her turn her head at one point, a bit forcefully, exposing her neck. And Van Helsing knows he sounds like a conspiracy theorist when he brings up how Lucy's hair seems to move on her own, with Seward rationalizing it as just the wind, something like that. Because Van Helsing is starting to consider that if Lucy is being attacked by a vampire, it wouldn't show up in footage.

When they see Lucy again following her vampirism, there's footage afterwards of Seward insisting to Van Helsing that they just hallucinated her, because she isn't showing up!!! The vampire explanation is bogus. But then VH counters that this does confirm her body was missing from the coffin at one point, and Seward defaults back to the grave robber explanation. Seward insinuates they should both be patients in his asylum at this rate.

There's footage of things moving on their own, like it's a ghost. But it's only when Lucy is staked that she finally shows up onscreen, because she's reverted back to being human again. Seeing the footage pick her up just confirms that yeah, paranormal stuff is afoot. And it provides Arthur a strange comfort in reminding himself of the time he saved his love's soul and did her justice after all the injustice that split them apart.

You could bring back the character of Francis Aytown to play on this idea more! The protagonists visit him, and his walls are covered in countless failed, scribbled-out drawings and paintings of Dracula. He can see the count's likeness in his head so clearly, but it always keeps coming out wrong. The protagonists also allude to attempting this, Jonathan especially, and the same thing happens.

It drives Aytown mad, that a great artist like him could fail. But it also entices him, this forbidden, ultimate piece, a likeness eluding him. Perhaps it makes him liable to manipulation by Dracula. He suggests that maybe he just needs to make a cast around the count's face, but Van Helsing points out that this also, somehow, would not work. Aytown casually accepts the reveal that Dracula is a vampire by our heroes, because he's already figured out from all this that the count is not a regular mortal, and only cares because his priority is capturing his image.

Aytown gets quite offended when the protagonists casually mention that they plan to kill Dracula, because it does not occur to them that anyone would object to this; But Aytown frets, how will he capture the count's likeness if he's truly destroyed??? The glow in his eyes, the cruel sneer... He ends up attacking our heroes in a fit of rage, but he’s a shrimp who doesn’t know what he’s doing and is immediately laid out by buff chad Quincey. Aytown is sent to none other than Seward's asylum, which makes things awkward; Seward thinks he can at least be useful in providing more data. Aytown possibly takes Renfield’s role in inviting Dracula inside out of desperation, leading to Mina becoming infected; I dunno what happens to Aytown afterwards.

But yeah, it's like Dracula is not just the Werewolf, but the Invisible Man as well. And a ghost. Our heroes know he doesn't show up but it's still impressive seeing the actors treat him like he's onscreen, looking into eyes that aren't there. And finally, FINALLY, after all the mystery and teasing, do we get to see Dracula in the final moment of his death; The exact moment in which he becomes human again, when he feels relief and gratitude at being freed from his curse. And it's a brief frame of a surprisingly chill-looking count, neck slashed open, before he crumbles into dust, also visible on-screen. Ironically, Aytown feared that killing Dracula would prevent him from capturing his likeness, but instead that's the only way he could do it; At that point, it would be possible to recreate his image.

This all just plays into the potential of how a modern, found footage take on Dracula would change things, especially from Quincey Harker's perspective; It'd emphasize an unusual myth about the vampires. And it'd play into the idea that the less you see of a monster, the more terrifying it is. Dracula is always unseen, even in the first portion of the story; He can at least be heard though, compared to how he is when terrorizing Lucy. So with him being a hidden monster after the Transylvania portion of the story, this minimal portrayal is retroactively applied to the first part of the novel as well.

[sorencd]

EVERYONE ADORES YOU (AT LEAST I DO)

pairing: neil perry x shy!reader

word count: 1k

a/n: here it is! i finally got around with finishing it :) anyways NEILNEILENEILENEMWA

masterlist

the piece of paper you erratically scribbled your poem onto crumpled as you clutched it harder in your clasp, your palms sweaty and jittery. no matter how hard you tried convincing yourself that the other students in your class are all mature, sensible, and rational people, it never ceases the perpetual fickle thumps of your heart.

it annoyed you to no end. how easily it was for situations like this to put you in a wave of emotions. you took a deep breath for the upteempth time before standing up on weakened legs. it always annoyed you, how you’re this impossibly nervous to speak in front of a crowd of people. numerous times has people told you to just ‘tough it out’, but it was never that easy.

you slowly walked to the front on shaky legs and a laser focus on the board, trying to ignore the few stares the others had on you. it felt like a million people had their attention on your every single movement, and amongst the handful of observant stares, lies a worried and concerned one. neil knew how shy you were and it takes a bit of coaxing for you to peek out of your shell. he could already tell that you were having a hard time from the moment he saw you clutch your piece of paper.

you were standing close to the board with your back against it, now everyone was surely looking at you. you couldn’t help but tilt your head downwards and you tried muttering a word out, any word at all. but nothing came out.

“(y/l/n)? is everything alright?”

the invisible weight that rested upon your shoulders made its presence known as you heard your name being called, depriving you of the ability to properly function. the air was acting as if it was non-existent and the atmosphere was suffocating. it made you feel trapped, you hated it. it was hard putting this much pressure on yourself, but you didn't know how to avoid it. no matter how many words of encouragement you mumble out of your lips, it all never seemed to help. tears were starting to prick your eyes as you tried rubbing your hand against your clothes to maybe relieve the stress that had you on a chokehold. it came to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore, and made a beeline for the door to exit the room, ignoring their calls and not hearing the footsteps that came after yours.

standing outside the hall was refreshing. it was empty during these times due to class hours and you were so grateful that no one would see you crying because you were so shaken up by merely presenting to an audience. you slid down and crouched against the wall and held your face, your feeble attempts of wiping the tears away proved useless and you rested a hand atop your chest to atleast give you some purchase from your heaved exhaling.

"(y/n)?"

you quickly lifted your head up at the voice above you, shock filling your veins. it was neil. he must've been so worried because of your sudden departure.

"are you okay?" neil asked in a soft tone, his voice waking you up from the daze you didn’t know you were in, you didn’t notice how tight your chest was. you couldn’t fully focus on the words that came out of his lips and you couldn’t fully process what was going on. you looked so small, keeping your knees close to your chest and beads of sweat continued running down your forehead. he knelt down beside you and sat down on the ground, not wanting to intimidate you if he were to stand up and talk down on you. he wanted you to feel comfortable with him no matter the circumstance.

“i’m-i’m sorry..” you hid your hands, no longer being able to hold back the tears that your eyes desperately wanted to release. you know yourself that it’s no good trying to bottle up your feelings, but you weren’t exactly good at doing that and you had a difficult time expressing your thoughts. what an amazing combo bestowed upon you. “i shouldn’t have made a scene.. i was being overly dramatic.”

neil patiently waited for you to pour everything that was flooding your mind out, not wanting you to get overwhelmed by immediately telling you how to handle things. he didn't want you to pushing down and invalidating your feelings. he gently rubbed your back in circles, his warm touch steadying your ragged breathe and pulling you back from the headspace you threw yourself in.

"they're probably laughing at me right now. i'm not going back in there."

he saw your lips quiver at the thought of possibly returning inside and resuming where you left off. you bet class was paused because of your sudden outburst, you felt ashamed. another batch of fresh tears and a soft sob resounded into the quiet hallway. just the mere scene of you being so vulnerable and your cheeks painted with tears shattered neil's heart into a thousand fragments─ it felt like a knife jagged itself into his heart,

"they're not. you don’t have to talk in front of all of them. i could talk to mr. keating, i'll ask if you can just present in private. just you and him. how does that sound?"

your heart squeezed at each syllable that entered your ears. neil knew just what you needed to hear, you don't know what you'd do without him. he saw you give a weak nod and your nose scrunched up while you wept a little bit more.

"you're doing great, (y/n). you can always try again! don't push yourself too much, my love. if they heard the poem you wrote, i know they'll love it as much as i did! i'm proud of you."

now you were full on sobbing. neil pulled you into his arms and stroked the back of your head and tenderly kissing the spot behind your ear. a gesture that you've grown to love everytime he did it─ he always knew what to do.

"we'll go back in whenever you're ready, sweetheart."

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Azel Radwan (part 4/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. 

Emma: AHHHHHHHHH!

Azel: ?!

I was so surprised by Prince Azel’s sudden appearance in the bath house that I splashed hot water on him.

I knew it was disrespectful toward a man who was both a living god and a prince, but because I was only wrapped in a thin sheet of cloth, I couldn’t act rationally.

Azel: What do you think you’re doing getting me all wet!?

Emma: “What do you think you’re doing” should be my line! Leave, or at least close your eyes!

Azel: Huh? You’re— —Nevermind, of course. What a pain. 

(He can’t just write this off as being an annoyance, can he?!)

It seemed that Prince Azel didn’t intend on leaving as he turned his back toward me and sat down on the ground, not caring that his clothes were getting wet.

(...He’s close)

Azel: They really didn’t do anything to you?

Emma: They just led me to the bath house.

Azel: …If I came any later, they would’ve applied aphrodisiac oil on you and sent you over to me.

Emma: Please don’t say such horrifying things.

Azel: It’s happened before.

Emma: …You’re kidding.

From behind me, I heard Prince Azel let out a loud sigh that echoed in the bath house.

Azel: Tanzanite places great importance on continuing their god’s bloodline. Humans have always been doing whatever they could to get me to take a woman. Because of this, I’ve turned away all women except the ones that are useful targets.

Emma: …That’s terrible.

Azel: It’s not my problem.

(It sounds like Prince Azel would have issues dealing with the opposite sex)

(I’m only here because I have a debt to pay back…)

Azel: If you’ve learned anything from this, then it’s to not let your guard down. If you hadn’t run away in the first place, then you could’ve avoided this.

Emma: This all started because you followed me into the castle though?!

Azel: Your fault I had to come to the castle.

Emma: I didn’t ask you to.

Azel: You wanted to walk through the desert at night all by yourself?

Emma: …Doesn’t that make it sound like you escorted me here?

Azel: Don’t get the wrong idea, I was just taking a walk.

Emma: Then it sounds like this wasn’t my fault after all.

Azel: …

(Ah, he’s gone quiet)

I turned and saw Prince Azel’s broad back.

Though I couldn’t see his face, I could tell he wanted to say something.

Emma: Prince Azel, it’s about time I get out of the bath…

Azel: You should.

Emma: I can’t if you’re here.

Azel: That’s none of my business.

Emma: …Is there a reason why you’re staying in the bath house?

Azel: …

Emma: If not, then I’ll call you a perverted god instead of a malicious god.

Azel: Don’t.

Azel stood up, but seemed to hesitate for a moment.

The sigh he let out was so pained that it startled me.

Azel: …Sorry.

Emma: Huh…

Azel: That’s all I wanted to day. I don’t want to deal with the “present” you.

While I stood there with my mouth open, Azel left without looking back.

It took me a moment to come back to my senses.

(That Azel apologized…)

(...No, wait)

(“Don’t want to deal with”—does that mean he doesn’t want to see me anymore?!)

--

Emma: Prince Azel!

I was right. Azel wasn’t in the guest room, but outside of the castle.

It seemed like my voice reached him as he turned around with wide eyes, as if he was startled.

Azel: What are you doing out here dressed like that?!

Emma: These were the only clothes I could find so I didn’t have a choice!

Only beautiful clothes that covered a lot less than what I was used to were left in the bath house.

Prince Azel must’ve driven the maids away because there were none in sight, so this was my only option. But when I calmly looked down, I wanted to hold my head and tell myself “you’ve messed up.”

(No, that doesn’t matter right now)

Emma: Prince Azel—I’m very sorry for blaming you earlier.

Azel: …Huh?

Emma: I was almost made an offering because I was careless. I’ll be more careful next time. Let me say “sorry” back.

Azel: Did you really chase after me out here dressed in that shameless outfit just to say that?

Emma: …Y-yes.

(...Why did I go through the trouble to Prince Azel “don’t worry about it”)

(If only he turned me away, then my life as his slave would be over) 

(But…)

Dumbfounded, Prince Azel approached me and draped his stole over my shoulders.

An act of mercy for my “shameless outfit”.

(He helps me out whenever I’m in trouble…and the last time I heard his voice, he sounded so sad)

Azel: You’re still the same admirable woman.

Emma: I’m losing it over how you’re acting like you like me today, Prince Azel.

Azel: Nope, don’t like you even the slightest bit.

Emma: The way you answered immediately is suspicious.

Azel: Conceited.

Emma: Hehe, I’m only joking.

Azel: I said I don’t—you were joking?

Emma: Yes.

(I didn’t expect him to reply so seriously)

Emma: I’m just getting revenge for being told I “dressed shamelessly”.

Azel: …

Emma: …Are you angry?

(What do I do…Prince Azel’s getting grumpier)

(No, I think he’s looking more embarrassed than grumpy…)

Emma: S…Sorry for keeping you. Good night, Prince Azel.

Sensing that he was not in a joking mood, I quickly turned away, but he grabbed my hand.

He pulled me as hard as he could and I landed against his chest.

Emma: You’re doing it again!

Azel: I’ve sent everyone away.

(Ah…Now that he mentioned it, I don’t see anyone around)

(Today’s Prince Azel has been oddly kind to me)

(He denies it, but I can tell)

(What he says contradicting with what he does aside…just where is this kindness coming from?)

Because of my thin clothes, the feeling of being held close to him was different to the feeling earlier this evening.

I could feel his heart beating through our clothes.

Was it my imagination, or was his pulse fast—

(This is bad…my heart’s pounding for some reason now)

Emma: Please…let me go.

Azel: I don’t have to listen to you.

Prince Azel, who normally didn’t touch me, leaned down close to my ear.

Feeling the god’s breath made me so nervous that I almost passed out.

Azel: Just pass out already so that I don’t have to hear anymore ridiculous jokes. 

…If I’m cursed, then I’m taking you with me.

--

The moon set and the sun rose.

The living god had returned to his temple during the night, and while I dreamt that night, I couldn’t say I slept soundly.

(I wonder what I would do if he acted strangely again today…)

Azel (polite): Here is today’s errand. Have a good day.

For some reason, I felt relieved when I saw the note he handed me.

But when I came back to my senses, I couldn’t help but object.

Emma: This is a lot more than usual!

Azel (polite): You poor thing. That is not my concern.

(He’s a completely different person…he’s back to the being the usual Prince Azel)

(He’s not worrying over me like he was yesterday, and he didn’t start with a hug)

His cold eyes were focused on something else, no longer interested in me.

Emma: …Prince Azel, do you remember anything from yesterday?

Azel (polite): Yesterday? What do you mean?

Emma: You were out of your mind, grabbing my hand and hugging me.

Azel: …What a revolting delusion.

Azel (polite): Please leave those kinds of ridiculous delusions to Matias.

(It doesn’t sound like he’s lying)

(Then what in the world happened to the Prince Azel from yesterday? Was it a dream?)

Azel: Ah, that’s right. Here, before you go run the errand.

He beckoned me closer and touched my ear.

I was cautious at first, but he just clicked something in place.

(An earring?)

Emma: This is?

Azel (polite): A charm. Good things may happen if you wear it. After all, no one wants to lay a hand on a god’s slave.

(...Could this be…)

~~ Flashback ~~

Azel: Why aren’t you carrying that with you?

Emma: “That”?

Azel: …You don’t have it on you?

~~ End flashback ~~

(...A dream is a dream, but was it a prophetic dream?)

(The Prince Azel from yesterday actually came from the future…)

(No, that’s not it)

Emma: Thank you. I’m off to run the errand now.

Azel (polite): Yes, please return as soon as possible. I would like you to make 5 trips today.

Emma: …This malicious god.

Prince Azel ignored my grumbling and sent me off with a smile.

(That god falling in love with me…there’s no way that future is possible)

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Never put a human in a zoo

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)    

The sudden extinction of the Dre people was as sudden as it was unexpected to the galactic community. They were one of the oldest and most technologically advanced races in the universe. Heavily isolationist by nature, coupled with their inherent self-sense of superiority they viewed much of the other space faring species as little more than savages by comparison as none of them presented a credible challenge their rule. Yet within a month they had lost nearly 99% of their population across multiple worlds.

The worst hit was their homeworld of Belnuck situated at the heart of their empire which became an empty husk of a world seemingly overnight. Ancient and powerful cities of technological wonder now were little more than ghost towns to be picked clean by scavengers.

There were no signs of civil strife or unrest, no exterior threat from military forces, not even a record of natural disaster on their homeworld. Nothing was found that could give a clue as to what could have erased such a prominent power as the Dre, and so it was written off as a deadly unsolved mystery and the galactic community went on.

At least, that was what the public report stated.

It wasn’t until a group of Kreen scavengers came upon a set of personal journals that the shroud of uncertainty was lifted. Only to be then shortly locked away and sealed under the highest security restrictions to ensure the truth never saw the light of day.

These are those journal entries: ------------------------------- Personal Journal Entry J-757931 Head curator Migu

The benefactors are requesting we add new exhibits to the zoo again.

I thought they would have been content with the Draxic specimens we captured last month but it seems the general public no longer find giant lizards fascinating to observe. One of them suggested we allow the Draxic to mingle with other exhibits for inter species interactions for potential science research; but I could tell right away that what they really wanted from this was to have guests pay to see those lizard savages rip apart our other attractions like a Frong in a Skitch field.

I wish they could at least try to hide their greediness behind some semblance of rationality. At least then it would be easier to stomach.

I’ve scheduled a discussion with our head capture specialists to go out and find new attractions for the people later today. I don’t have much hope they can find anything as fascinating to revive interest but one never knows. End Log Entry. ---------------------------------- Personal Journal Entry J-757935 Head curator Migu

Capture team theta appears to have acquired something of value.

The specimens were caught will transitioning into real space at the edge of a system and were removed from their vessel shortly after.

Their technology was primitive in nature, but from the recordings the capture team sent back their esthetic design choices appear to be unique for such a low species. Accessing their data banks was a trivial matter and provided a wealth of history to them.

They appear to call themselves “Humons”, and have only recently begun intergalactic travel.

From the data we have gathered these humons are a highly warlike society repeating cycles of great conflict to great resurgence throughout their history. During war time they have fought with everything from sharpened wood stakes to low grade thermo nuclear devices.

While lacking the physical exciting traits like armored skin or shape shifting qualities, I believe their nature as a self-destructive race will make them a comedic addition to the zoo.

Theta team is on their way back now with them and I’ve already given instructions to create the new paddock for them in the east wing. With any luck the benefactors will find them as amusing as I do and calm down. End Log Entry. ------------------------------- Personal Journal Entry J-757940 Head curator Migu It could not have gone any better. The public loves the new attractions and the benefactors love the increase in profits. Theta team captured roughly a dozen of these humons and when coupled with their historical data we were able to depict several invigorating habitats. We injected them with the standard nano machines to provide feedback on each of them for both the caretakers and the guests. I do have some concerns about handing the medical needs of these humons as none of our handlers know how to treat them, but I have tasked them with dissecting the gathered data for any relevant medical information. They seem very energetic and many of them have not stopped trying to escape their exhibit since they woke up. A few of them have already begun crafting crude weapons to defend themselves while forming mini factions. The largest group has created a primitive wooden fortress by sharpening sticks and creating walls with them. The smaller group has kept their distance from the larger groups while the remaining few have decided to remain in isolation from both groups. Guests love it when they start banging on the windows and try to talk with them. The children in particular I overheard already picking out their favorites and rooting for them to survive should they begin fighting. We’ve not had this kind of engagement since we brought in Bengols with their psionic abilities. ------------------------------

Personal Journal Entry J-758021 Head curator Migu

It’s been several cycles since my last entry and we’ve had a few snags. Our lack of medical knowledge regarding our latest exhibits has proven costly. Despite our best efforts to decrypt the remaining data from their ships it appears medical information was damaged beyond recovery during the capture process. This has left us unable to properly care for them during medical emergencies; which have happened far sooner than expected.

After several days of captivity several of the humons began showing signs of rapidly deteriorating mental stability. They’ve displayed signs of paranoia, societal breakdown, and an increase in aggression levels to the point they murdered other humons in the enclosure.

We’ve never had this problem before with our other exhibits, at least within such a short timeframe, and now the benefactors are calling for my head. They are upset that their most prized money generators are murdering each other risking their profit margin.

I’ve suggested applying mild sedatives to calm them but was denied. They insist that curbing their more primitive tendencies would cause customers to lose interest in them.

The suggestion of capturing more of these humons was strongly advocated for but it was my turn to deny that request. Deploying a capture team was an expensive endeavor and if the humons continued killing each other the costs would overturn any increase in profits.

I’m putting together alternatives now for my next meeting with them. Hopefully something will come along and save our hides. ---------------------------------

Personal Journal Entry J-758043 Head curator Migu

The problem for the time being has resolved itself via an unexpected avenue.

One of the capture humons was seen treating the few remaining humans; providing basic medical treatment and care.

Ordinarily we would have written off such behavior but because of our current medical situation we decided to bend regulations and reach out to the subject directly.

A translator unit was acquired and we were able to speak directly with the humon. It took several minutes to calibrate, thankfully much of their speech was unrecognizable. They would not stop trying to speak with us while it was being adjusted and went on and on about wanting to be set free and demanding answers. Honestly you think these humons would be grateful that we are lowering ourselves to speak with them.

When they finally calmed down we explained the situation to them. In exchange for their cooperation they would be given special privileges to treats and comforts for the duration of their stay. They wanted to be let out and freed from the exhibit but I quickly shut that down as a non-starter.

It eventually dawned on them that this was going to be their new existence for the remainder of their life and could live in comfort or watch as their friends died one by one; and they accepted the offer. -------------------------

Personal Journal Entry J-758117 Head curator Migu

While unusual the negotiating tactic with the humon has resolved the issue for us and the benefactors are happy once more.

With the medical humons help they were able to stabilize the injured humons while also negotiate a form of agreement between the humon factions in the exhibit. They could still maim and injure each other while guests were present but would not kill and then would be treated afterwards before the next day’s opening.

Interestingly enough the medical humon has proved very useful. They’ve been able to communicate with the rest of the humons and get them to fall in line. What’s more they’ve been minimalistic in requests with the biggest being to be taught some of the basics of our medical equipment so he can use it himself.

Ordinarily we don’t allow this but it would have freed up some of the medical wing so we allowed it with extensive supervision.

I must admit I am rather proud of myself for resolving the situation, and with such little expenditure. Things now are running smoothly once more and the profits are seeing ever increasing margins. Maybe now the benefactors will get off my back. Though honestly I think it’ll only last one or two months before the humons are worn out and they want something new.

---------------------- Personal Journal Entry J-758135 Head curator Migu

Oh gods it burns!

Everyone at the zoo is screaming and clawing their own skin!

Gods damnit make it stop! MaKE IT Stop!!!!!!!!!!!

-----------------------

Emergency Transmission January 2873 Chief Medical Officer Maxwill Clemons

This is Chief Medical officer Maxwill Clemons of the ship “Hades Rest” calling out to any terran ships requesting immediate rescue.

I am not sure what planet or system we’re in, but hone in on this signal and you will find us. I will be repeating this message every hour on the hour for as long as this place has power.

I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been in this god forsaken hellhole. The automated day/night cycles have made my attempts at record keeping near impossible.

Maybe a month? Two? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.

We were kidnapped from our ship after exiting a jump and woke up to find ourselves in some sort of alien zoo. The aliens refused to speak to us at first, instead watching us from windows and laughing at us while we struggled to find out what was going on.

They’re all dead now. The aliens that is.

I never knew what they called themselves and I don’t really care.

They treated my friends like animals, so I took their precious tech and turned it on them. Made the nano machines they injected us with register the alien DNA as a deadly virus in need of immediate eradication.

First one I got was the one who was so smug about our capture and display. They changed their tune after I spat in their eye and their face started melting as the nano tech spread. Two others came in after the screaming started and they got infected as well before fleeing the room.

I stood up and went to my comrades “habitat’ and let them out as every alien around us began screaming and melting away. That was at least three days ago now and I haven’t seen one of them yet. Their whole planet now is like one massive ghost town.

We’ve enough provisions to last us and the other freed captives for some time, but please do hurry. I want off this fraking shit hole as soon as possible. --------------- Message repeats:

Emergency Transmission January 2873 Chief Medical Officer Maxwill Clemons

This is Chief Medical officer Maxwill Clemons of the ship “Hades Rest” calling out to any terran ships requesting immediate rescue. ------

[colibrie]

Uncharted Territory, part one.

All love and credit to @trilobitepunch, for the amazing art work,the listening ear, and the endless encouragement. You are amazing Trilo!

“I’ve got snacks!”

Mikeys cheery voice cut through the racetrack of his thoughts, shepherding Leo’s attention back to the bustle and hum of the fuel depot. His younger brother was skipping towards him, boxes of ration bars and a few brightly colored bags filling his arms to near bursting. 

“The selections not that great,” Mikey continued, cheeks puffing in annoyance as he reached Leo, hopping comically on one leg as he fought to open the cargo hatch with his toes. “But I did manage to finagle two boxes of the better rations out of the shop keep, aaaaaand she even threw in some of those sweet sticks I like!”

“The ones dad banned you from having because of that time you were literally bouncing off the walls?” Leo teased, leaning casually against the ship’s hull as he flashed a smirk at his baby brother. “Force help us all.”

“Leeeeo!” Mikey whined, beak wrinkling in embarrassment as he scowled affronted at big brother. “I was six! Don’t be a jerk!”

“Hey, as the only other person stuck in an incredibly small ship with you for the foreseeable future, I think I have a right to be concerned!” Leo goaded, reaching out to casually flip the fuel valve off as the warning chime sounded. 

“Just for that, I’m gonna hide the good rations from you,” Mikey shot back as the hatch finally opened with a soft hiss. “You get the spinach and spiva protein flavors, while I get the strawberry and chocolate.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you got strawberry?!” Leo squawked, arms flailing as he spun around, feet briefly slipping on the steel grating. “Hand em over!”

“No!” Mikey jeered, sticking out his tongue as he shoved the boxes and bags into the hold.

“Miiiikey.”

“Who’s the funny one now Leon?!”

“Your face,” Leo muttered lamely, pursing his lips into an exaggerated pout as he disconnected the hose. He projected a cloak of sulky energy, shaking his head with covert fondness as Mikey crowed in triumph and bit into one of his sweet sticks. He could let his little brother think he’d won this round. At least one of them deserved to laugh through this.

He blinked, and the world fell away once more.

Crimson blades reflecting off obsidian armor. The wall crumbling under his shell, like wet tissue paper. Screams of anger and fear as the darkness closed in, air cut off as something heavy twisted his lungs…

“So!” Mikey’s voice snapped Leo back once more to the fluorescently lit present. The smaller turtle had ducked under the shuttle’s wing and now stood at his side, oblivious to Leo’s lapse in attention as he worked with way through his treat. “What do we do now?”

Leo quickly turned away, scowling at the fuel hose as he wound in back into the holder.

“What do you mean?” he asked, proud of how even his voice stayed as he worked to get his face back into a casual smile.

“I mean, we’ve covered step one, right? We’re far enough away from home that no one will recognize us. We’ve got a full tank of fuel and enough rations to last two weeks if we play things right. What’s step two? How are we going to get Raph and Donnie back?”

“First off, we are going not talking about things where anyone passing by could hear us,” Leo chided under his breath, turning back to Mikey with a roll of his eyes.

“There’s hardly anyone around!” Mikey protested.

“And there are even less people around in hyperspace,” Leo retorted, flicking his fingers in a dismissive shooing motion, “so go start the pre-flight checks so we can get out of here.”

“Ugh! Fine! Be that way,” Mikey groaned, stomping away towards the cockpit with an energy only the youngest member of a family could muster.

Leo watched him go, sucking in a subtle breath through his teeth once his sibling was safely ensconced within the metal walls of the ship. He let his body sag for a second, leaning his temple against the riveted metal. Exhaustion seemed to press in from every angle, cheerfully reminding him of how large his sleep debt had grown in the week since they’d left their home and their father behind. How many nights his insomnia kept him awake, listening to Mikey’s squeaky snores while his thoughts raced at double time. Hours spent staring out the view screen as stars blurred past, fighting to keep his gritty eyes open as incomprehensible nightmares hounded the darkness behind his eyelids. What little sleep he had found was haunted by his twins’ parting words, repeated over and over like a tattoo beaten into his brain.

Find me. I need you. Find me. I need you. Find me. I need you. Find me, find me, find me…

I’m coming. I swear.

“Cmon Leon,” he muttered, pushing himself upright, shaking out his sluggish limbs and angling body towards the hatch as the engines hummed to life. “You got this.”

“Good job on the pre-flight munchkin,” Leo called, plastering a bright grin as he sauntered through the door. “Now outa my chair.”

“Doesn’t have your name on it,” Mikey supplied the rote reply, fingers tapping a happy beat on the consul. “I can launch us.”

“Not on your life brat,” Leo answered as he shoved his brother out of the pilot’s seat, snickering at the indignant squawk that followed.

The controls were comforting weight in his palms as he smoothly guided the ship up and out of station, the restless need to move in his soul settling slightly as velvety folds of the cosmos greeted them once more.

“Can we talk about things now?!” Mikey asked peevishly, flopping into the copilot seat.

“Sure. We can talk. We can talk about the stars, or the latest holo’s. Or where you put those strawberry ration bars. Or-”

“Leeeeeeeo,” Mikey cut in, drawing his brother’s name out in a sing-song tone that barely covered the hard edge reflected in his smile. “What’s the plan? I know you have one, you always do.”

“Of course I have a plan,” Leo hedged, careful to keep his eyes forward and smile easy as Mikey eagerly leaned in towards him.

Perhaps “plan” was a generous way to describe the looped track of findthemfindthemfindthem that had dominated his mind from the moment he’d stormed away from their father, drowning in a hurricane of disbelief and fury. He could not remember where he’d gone to wait out the remainder of that day, or what he might have done. He could barely remember sneaking back into the house to fill a bag with clothes, food, and a few meaningful trinkets. The need to move, to do, to fix things had simply been to great for rational thought to penetrate.

Finding Mikey waiting by the shuttle that night had been like a bucket of ice water to the face, the tempest of his emotions spluttering under his baby brother’s boundless spirit and unyielding will. Every smile, laugh, and hug soothed the embers further, calming the storm enough for clearer thoughts to fill his sleepless nights. Thoughts that wasted little time in confirming just how supremely stupid he’d been acting. Donnie and Raph out matched them in both strength and training, and if their last meeting was any indication, neither was likely to be open to simply talking things through. Mikey’s force abilities were fledgling, and Leo’s were inconsistent and unstable at the best of times. Following his feelings would have led him straight into an early grave. and now it wasn’t just Leo’s shell on the line.

Leo could admit, if only to himself, that he was still flying utterly blind through this. He did not have a plan. No clear course to retrieving those they had lost. But Mikey didn’t need to know that. Leo was nothing if not a proficient performer. Short a plan, he reached for his next best skill, improvisation.

“We are never going to match the people who have Raph and Donnie as we are now. They've proven they can wipe the floor with us,” Leo started as he sat back in the pilot’s chair, idly scooping up a spare gasket to roll through his fingers as he stared hard out the view screen.  

“What’s this “with us”? I seem to recall only one of us getting their shell beat,” Mikey answered with a proud smirk, only to let out another squawk as the gasket nailed him between the eyes.

“As I was saying,” Leo grumbled, “If we want to stand a chance of saving our brothers, we need to get stronger. And to do that we'll need a proper teacher.”

“But who could do that?” Mikey questioned, absently chewing on his lower lip as he cocked his head in thought. “All the Jedi are dead.”

“Splinter survived with two kids in tow,” Leo countered, smiling his most confident smile as he piloted them away from the fuel station. “If he could do it, I am sure there had to have been others who got out and went to ground.”

“Yeah, but… finding a random Jedi hiding in the galaxy… isn’t that is like finding a needle hidden in an ocean of needles?”

“You’re right,” Leo acknowledged, thinking hard. “But we aren’t looking for any random Jedi. We… are… going to find Master Karai. She was Da-Splinters Master. If anyone survived the purge, it would be her, I know it. We just need to find her somehow.”

“Oh!” Mikey perked up, sparks dancing in his smile as he reached out and unsteadily called the holocron to him with a wave of his palm. “We can use dads holocron and the force to find her!”

“Huh?!”

“If she was dad’s master, then he must have gone a lot of places with her. Places she might have gone to hide when the temple was destroyed. If we use the force to look through the maps, maybe it will tell us which one.” Mikey reasoned, tongue poking out between his lips as he tossed the glowing cube between his palms.

“A nice thought, but that's not how the force works Mikey,” Leo declined with a shake of his head.

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“How come?”

“It just…doesn’t?”

“That doesn’t sound like a good reason to not try. The recordings of Master Plo Koon said that the force is in everything.”

“It is, but it is not like my magic tricks Angelo. It can’t just make things appear,” Leo tried to explain, struggling to dig back into hazy memories of temple classrooms and supreme boredom. “They told us Jedi masters could use it to pick out individual force signatures in a crowd, but only if they were familiar with the person or knew what to look for. I mean, not even Grandmaster Yoda could find someone all the way across the galaxy!”

“Master Plo also said the force has a will of its own. What if the force wants us to find her?” Mikey countered, staring hard at the holocron before looking up at Leo with hope burning strong and bright. “It led Raph and Donnie to us, I know it. And, I don’t think it would have done that if it didn’t want us to help them. If finding Master Karai is what we need to do that, then I just…I have a feeling the force will steer us in the right direction.”

“Mike…”

“What do we lose by trying?” Mikey coaxed, holding out the holocron.

“It’s…yeah, okay. Sure. Knock yourself out,” Leo sighed, looking away with half shrug.

“We. We can knock ourselves out. Because we are going to do it together.”

“Uh, no we are not! Do I need to remind you of all the reasons why it would be really bad for me to try to use the force? Particularly in a tiny ship in the middle of outer space?!”

“I don’t remember her. Not like you do. And you were the one who just said that a Jedi needed to know the person they were looking for. You don’t have to do anything big, just try to focus on your memories of her. What did she look and sound like? How did she feel in the force? Tell me about it, and I’ll handle the razzmatazz side!”  

Maybe it was the sleepless nights, or the lack of better options no matter how hard he scoured his brain for one. Maybe it was that he had never developed a full proof defense against Mikey’s “please” face. Either way…

“Fiiiine,” he groaned, engaging the autopilot with a flick of his wrist before flopping back in his seat. “I want it on the record that I am humoring you, because there is no way that is going to work. And I am calling the right to rubbing it in when it doesn’t work.”

“And I will be happy to make you eat an “I told you so” sandwich when it totally does.” Mikey replied, beaming. “Now let’s do this!”

Leo reluctantly swiveled the pilot’s chair to face his brother, knocking their knees together. Mikey released the cube, the device opening as it rose to float between them.

“Man, this is stupid,” Leo muttered, begrudgingly holding his hands out, palms turned towards the cube as though warming them on the world’s worst campfire.

“You’re being stupid,” Mikey replied absently, copying Leo from the other side. “Stop complaining and tell me about Master Karai.”

“What’s there to say? She was a dedicated Jedi. She was awesome with lightsaber combat and could be strict when it came to training.”

“How did you meet her?” Mikey coaxed.

“She volunteered to take shifts in the creche whenever she rotated back to the temple,” Leo replied, taking a deep breath to steady himself before reaching back into cobweb covered memories. “She could be a bit awkward sometimes, but she…she cared.”

Leo smiled faintly, eyes slowly losing focus as his attention turned inward, mind wandering further down the paths of remembrance.

“She was loyal to the council, but she never really followed their stances on not forming attachments. Even though she wasn’t in the creche often, she was one of the few people who took the time to understand the four of us. Our personalities and what we needed as individuals. You used to spend time between her visits drawing her all kinds of pictures, then you’d make her sit down and go through each and everyone of them. She’d give you her full attention, every time.”

“She sounds nice,” Mikey murmured, eyes falling to half-mast as he tried to reach for that fickle feeling of the force inside of him.

“She was one of the few that had the patience to understand Donnie, to see him for the genius he was. She never scolded him for things he couldn’t control. She tried to learn what set him off, and tried to get things that would help him cope when I wasn’t there, even though it was against the rules. And she was always there as a listening ear for Raphie. He always looked out for us, but Karai was the one he went to most with his problems. She could always tell when he was getting upset, and she’d take him somewhere to let him blow off steam.”

“And what about you?” Mikey mumbled, closing his eyes fully as something warm bloomed in his chest. Something that crackled like the brightest bonfire, filled him from head to toe with warmth. It swirled in his veins, happy to dance, happy to be, yet unhappy to be so alone. It stretched instinctively towards a distant, cloudy aura, a weak glimmer of deep blue lightning flavored with ozone and storm winds. Seeking, searching.

“She got me,” Leo trailed off.

Lightning blue flinched, shying away as the golden fire prodded it.

“What did she look like? What did she feel like? Do you remember?” Mikey mumbled, fire following some unspoken instinct to keep going. Between them the holocron began to rapidly cycle through maps.  

“She was about my current height. Long black hair. She liked to wear two strands down by her face with the rest pulled back. Light skin, black eyes. She liked to wear long green robes while at the temple, and we used to love to pretend to hide in them. She was…she felt like your favorite blanket after a day in the cold, or my favorite cup of tea. Soft and reliable, and safe…”

Fire hummed. Lightning sparked, finding that tiny, barely mended gap.  

“She made us feel safe.”

For a moment, lightning touched fire. Something snagged, a loop of thread pulling tight. Mikey snapped his hands closed, holding onto it with everything he had. The holocron went still, washing the cockpit with a triumphant glow as it presented the chosen map.

“Omigosh it worked!” Mikey cheered, eyes snapping open to eagerly take in their new destination. They had done it! He had done it!

“Take that Le…Leo?”

His older brother was pale, beak scrunched and shoulders faintly trembling with pain as they curled inward. One hand covered his eyes, fingers digging deep into the sockets as the other hand clutched his chest. Sharp breaths whistled between clenched teeth as a slick of dark red rolled steadily from his nose. The impression of wind and ozone quickly fading away as Mikey scrambled out of his seat.

“Shell Lee, I’m so sorry! What can I do?!”

“It’s fine,” Leo mumbled, leaning away from Mikey as he pulled himself upright. Enthusiasm for their accomplishment fizzled out like a dying sparkler as Mikey watched, chewing anxiously on his cheek as he frantically ran through a check list of this brother’s symptoms.

“Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Is anything numb? What’s your full name? Where are we? Who is the-“

“Whoa Angelo! Slow down. Kinda to the first, meh on the second, no on the third, and I don’t need a concussion check. It’s the usual stuff. Mainly just a headache.”

“You sure? The way you’re holding your chest-”

“Yes, I’m sure. Relax Angie, or you’ll start getting wrinkles to rival Splinter.”

The balm of relief coated his nerves as Leo relaxed back into his seat, expression shifting from a pained grimace to an indolent grin as he casually wiped his face with the back of one hand.

“Plus, I didn’t blow anything up this time, so score me some bonus points!”

Mikey huffed, gently shoving at his older brothers’ shoulder before pushing himself back to his feet. Headaches weren’t new. Headaches they could handle.

“Do you want a stim shot?” he asked, glancing at the ship’s small med kit.

“Nah,” Leo denied with a dismissive wave. “We’re better off saving supplies, just in case. I’ll just nap it off once we set coordinates for… the Yakai system?”

“Yeah, that’s what the holocron landed on! Do you know it?” Mikey inquired, leaning in to admire the holomap that still floated between their seats.

“No but look at it Mikey. There’s nothing there. Just an asteroid belt and some low-grade planets.”

“Sounds like the perfect place for a Jedi to hide out!”

“Low-grade means no organic life dumb dumb. Nothing lives there.”

“But there isn’t any harm in going to look!” Mikey rejoined, straining to lean across his brother towards the autopilot.

“Ack! Mik-sto-getoff! We aren’t wasting the fuel.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you!” Mikey chirped, beaming as consul chirped to indicate the successful input of the coordinates.”

“Ohmi-”

“Lets just go and have a quick look! If we don’t find anything we’ll do things your way from there. Unless you’re scared to admit I could be right…”

“…Fine. But not only do I get to rub your face in it for eternity, you’ll owe me. Whatever I want, whenever I want it.”

“I can’t wait. Now go lay down. Autopilot says six hours till we reach Yakai.”

Leo whined and grumbled as he was prodded out of the pilot’s chair, dragging his feet as Mikey herded him to one of the benches.

“You nap, I’ll fly.” He insisted, pretending to ignore the dark bags gathered beneath his brothers’ eyes when he pulled off the blue mask.

“It’s not flying if the autopilot’s engaged,” Leo sniped petulantly, laying back reluctantly when Mikey pushed on his plastron.

“Whatever you say. Nighty night bro!”

[michaelsfavgirl]

I fallow you on tik tok and you used to make those MJ NSFW headcanons and in one of them you mentioned what he does with Y/N's panties (stroking his dick with them or pulling them up to his nose to smell them I think). I was wondering if you could make a fan fiction about that. If yes thank you sooo much!<33

panty stealer

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Tags: smut, masturbation, pervy!michael

Word Count: 835

Author’s Note: ngl i liked writing for pervy!mike a little too much

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

Michael knows it’s perverted, he knows he shouldn’t, is well aware that it's a breach of privacy, yet he can't seem to resist the urge. It's a guilty pleasure that he indulges in. Rationalizations flit through his mind like ghosts in the dark, trying to justify his actions. But deep down, he knows that no excuse makes it right. 

He'd never dare to admit it aloud, not even to himself, but there's something undeniably alluring about the act that he can't ignore. His thick cock aches and hardens instantly at the mere thought of wrapping your delicate panties around his weeping length, stroking himself while inhaling your addictive scent. or pulling it up close to his face, feeling the fabric against his skin, inhaling your intoxicating scent while trying to shoo away the thoughts of what you may think of him if you ever find out. 

Would you be repulsed, would you shame him about the taboo nature of his actions or would you revel in the knowledge that he yearns for you so desperately, even resorting to such extreme measures? He can't help but wonder, his mind plagued by doubts and uncertainties.

He fantasizes about you encouraging him by leaving your panties on the bathroom counter "by accident" He knows you're not as innocent and demure as you present yourself to be. He remembers the countless times he's caught you staring at him with eyes that held more than just desire—there was a hunger that mirrored his own.

And now that Michael’s alone in his hotel room late at night, kilometers away from his precious girl, he can't resist the temptation that gnaws at him, urging him to give in to his darkest desires. The temptation becomes too much to bear. The longing for your touch, your scent, your presence overwhelms him.

Can you really blame him though? He knew he wouldn't be able to see you for months and the heated phone calls between you from the last tour were already repetitive and stale by the end. This time he needed something more, so stealing a few pairs of your panties seemed like the least he could do to satiate his yearning for you. 

He shifts restlessly on the bed, the anticipation coursing through him like wildfire as he wraps his hand around his leaking cock. His breath hitches in his throat as his thumb swipes over his sensitive tip, his precum glistening in the dimly lit room. His eyes flutter shut from the electrifying contact, a primal need urging him on. He tries desperately to drag it out, to savor every moment, but his patience has already worn thin.

With a low growl of frustration, he presses one of his favorite panties of yours to his face and inhales deeply, almost greedily. A guttural moan escapes him at the intoxicating scent. Fueled by the familiar aroma of your essence, he picks up his pace, fisting his shaft with urgent fervor, using the copious amount of precum as lube. Breathless pants spill from his parted lips as he envisions you on top of him, bouncing on his fat cock like a good girl.

His tongue darts out hungrily, dampening the fabric of your panties right at the center, lapping up the remnants of your arousal with desperation. Michael savors every taste. Of course it's not the same as burying his face between your warm thighs but for now this will have to suffice.

His moans, muffled by the fabric, fill the room as he feels his heavy balls tighten embarrassingly quickly, as if he is a hormonal teenager. The veins in his right arm bulge prominently as he pumps himself at a fast pace, his hand starting to ache from the intensity of his grip.

With a little reluctance, he releases the panties from his lips, his shaky hands wrapping them around his girthy cock. The fabric rubs against his sensitive tip, sending jolts of pleasure through him as his head tilts back in ecstasy. Beads of sweat glisten on his toned body, his curls stick to his forehead in the heat of the moment.

Unable to hold himself back his free hand claws at the sheets as he lets the forbidden thrill consume him. Michael’s orgasm is explosive, chants of your name leave his lips. He forces his eyes to open and watch as he releases rope after rope of his thick, creamy seed into your panties, staining them with his potent essence. His chest heaves with exertion as the last droplets of cum drip from his spent tip, his body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

With a languid movement, he pulls back his sweaty curls from his forehead, his gaze fixated on the ceiling as he catches his breath. Lazily, he slips your panties off the bed and onto the floor, pulling up the sheets to cover his bottom half before succumbing to the blissful embrace of sleep, knowing that tomorrow he'll wake up and do it all over again.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @heartss444mj @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @anivkye @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @maybe7tommorow

[throwaway-yandere]

The Owner Who Broke The Leash (Yandere!Kamisato Ayato/Reader)

a/n: this is a chainsaw man au but I tried writing it so that you don't need to be an anime/manga reader (suffer with me.) I'm not 100% following the source material, so Beidou and Kazuha are platonic & no mother-child themes the orig has people debate over. I won't be explaining the latter to those who did not understand lmao. (Y/n)'s 20 years old. This is just a yandere fic, relax hehe. also, huge shoutout to @navxry for beta reading, their insights were helpfull!!! and also shoutout because honestly nothing is more fulfulling like seeing a live commentary of roasting the yanderes and for some reason, my husband too sorry dain-

cw: yandere themes and degrading nicknames ("dog"), and dont read while eating ig?

unreliable synopsis: "Thank you, Mr. Kamisato," (Y/n) mumbled. "It's just... I'm still pretty pissed by what happened. I had an absolute shit first kiss–"

Kamisato Ayato questioned whether he had a heart in his head because, on occasion, it beats louder than the one cradled by his ribs. Or perhaps he's just grown incredibly susceptible to human emotions– or in this scenario: "headaches." Then again, in a world where 7 out of every 20 Inazuman citizens are killed by Devils in a concerningly short duration, is it really surprising that Ayato would experience such distress?

The Public Safety Devil Hunters have often questioned their limits throughout the years. Many of them have hardened themselves into pawns who seek glorified kinds of justice and retribution with the limited and declining manpower they have. As a result, they needed people like Kamisato Ayato, a mystifying man who presented himself as a gregarious yet reticent individual regarded either with respect or distaste. 

Only a few people have gone insane, which he and the captain of Division 4, Dainsleif, considered to be regrettable. They both had a strong conviction that complete sanity was inappropriate for a devil hunter. The rational and sensible are not in demand in this profession. Only those who have lost their sense of humanity can remain alive with their limbs intact. Many disputed Dainsleif's claims, questioning how could they be true. And to this, he answered:

"What does sanity truly mean when demanded of you by a Devil?"

Unfortunately, not many people understood the significance of that puzzling question, and even if they did, they rejected this way of thinking. Losing one's sanity is equivalent to losing what kept many alive–

And then…

There's (Y/n).

"Holy shiiiiiit!!!" (Y/n) spat out with their mouth full as they gouged the poor leftover traces of udon from the bowl, fully savoring what drops can be salvaged. They tilted their wrist and licked the remaining noodles, which made Mr. Kamisato's associates raise an eyebrow. Their unbrushed hair would sometimes cover their eyes, making them appear more monstrous and feral.

That was enough to know that in an instant, (Y/n) was endowed with a life that was blessed— at least, in physiological matters.

Despite their disheveled clothes and messy hair, anyone would've mistaken them for a somewhat functional human being. Ayato was quite pleased to dress them up after finding them bloodied and dazed. Not that the zombie devil was ever considered a formidable foe, but seeing the Chainsaw Devil in action is enough grounds for fascination, yes?

The Chainsaw Devil… What name does his "family" go by nowadays? What does the "Fixer of Hell" do around this era?

And why did he form a contract with this… mess of a human being? Why did the Chainsaw Devil agree to become this person's heart replacement?

Why didn't the devil let them perish?

Kamisato Ayato has been dying to know–

"Is this what you devil hunters eat every day?" (Y/n) gawked at him, who was snapped back to reality by their childlike antics. "Seems pretty fucking worth it to me. Those jackasses must be ripping me off if I did the same work for less than, what, two eighty percent? I don't know jack-shit about math, though. Unless it's about calculating debt."

"Is that right?"

When (Y/n) eliminated the Zombie Devil, the public safety officer was able to locate the "dog" in person. Fortunately, he just so happened to know that there was a devil in the vicinity and saw (Y/n) covered in blood. Surely, finding out that the Chainsaw Devil became (Y/n)'s heart via a contract was a mere coincidence in Mr. Kamisato's perspective. He's a cunning being, but not omnipotent, yes?

"Duh," their nose scrunched. "Gotta pay my dead dad's debt somehow. The sins of the Father are the sins of the... I forgot the rest of the line."

"Hmm."

To say (Y/n) is the… most entertaining person is the understatement of the decade. They exude none of the dignity of an ordinary civilian when bringing up their lack of rudimentary mathematical abilities and literary knowledge. Like a child who was isolated in their room for so long, (Y/n) was the type of clumsily put-together person you wouldn't expect to pique Ayato's interest. 

Yet here he is, answering them with something far from a business smile.

Ayato was entertained by their awkwardly talkative behavior and flushed cheeks.

(Y/n) has a crush on him. He's certain.

He can make use of that.

"We take care of our workers, yes," Ayato smoothly replied. His gaze did not falter away from the more-than-exploited hybrid. Hidden behind his stare was an obsession he had yet to add a label to. There's a strangely human urge for him to wipe the stray noodle off their chin.

They failed to see his soft gaze and continued to mindlessly ask nonsensical questions.

"P-Peanut butter and jelly too?"

"If they so desired it. I do not see why they cannot afford to buy some with their paycheck."

"Woah."

They looked incredibly amazed, if not, pathetically deprived. It made Ayato even more curious– just what life was this poor dog living if they craved incredibly simple joys?

And… peanut butter? Was that ever considered peak luxury? What a miserable life. Dead mother, murdered father– and a poor heart condition to match. He'll never consider their living conditions humane.

"Dog," Ayato thought to himself. "Positively a dog."

So faithful. So easily handled. 

Just as the Public Safety Devil Hunter had hoped for.

Humans are strange creatures and even more challenging to please. Ayato noticed that people attract others when they're unfortunate yet not far enough where they're "beyond saving". Balancing that fine line is a hindrance. Humans strive for authenticity but retreat when it causes discomfort— running away from the empty or broken bits that reflect their innermost selfish beliefs. These people will probe for trauma and unfavorable emotions to relate to, but won't exert control to change or challenge the speaker. 

They want a "palatable" story– a "marketable" person.

Kamisato Ayato didn't enjoy how hypocritical humanity is. Perhaps that's why he connected with (Y/n) instantaneously. 

Because (Y/n) was no longer human.

They're a devil-human hybrid. There's nothing for (Y/n) to mask, and most importantly, they're so damn easy to please.

Ayato glanced at his wristwatch. 

It's nearly time for tea with his fellow commissioners.

He closed his eyes and sighed softly. There was no latent vitriolic expression on his face, but that did not mean Ayato cared for his colleagues deeply.

They're all dogs in his eyes.

"Let us depart, (Y/n)."

And (Y/n) might be the best one yet.

Mr. Kamisato stood up and ruffled their hair.

"Come. Be a good dog and perhaps I'll spoil you with as many treats as you desire."

—-------------------

"Holy shit…" (Y/n) muttered to themselves.

"Today, I'm going to experience my first kiss ever…"

"Oh, a kiss you say?"

"M-Mister Kamisato?!"

It's been a while since Mr. Kamisato saw (Y/n), and they exude a brighter aura than before.

He's not pretentious enough to say (Y/n) had grown so much since he last saw them. There are qualities to them (he wouldn't say redeemable) that Ayato was certain weren't there in the past. After assigning them as Kaedehara Kazuha's subordinate and roommate, (Y/n) rehabilitated to the norms of public safety devil hunters. There were some setbacks, including the time they refused to kill a devil because they were naive enough to consider them as friends. But here they were, inside a busy restaurant after a month of dispatching (Y/n) to their new job– new life.

And won't you look at that?

Ayato's gaze softened as it sank in how much his influence had changed them over the months.

They… look radiant, don't they?

(Y/n) stood up, shocked that the refined public safety officer would be joining them. No one told them that he was invited. The rest of Division 4 followed suit, extending their pleasantries to their superior. The only exception was Beidou, who spoke nothing as she continued chugging her beer. Ayato greeted them and gracefully slipped away from his black cloak and placed it on the chair.

They remained standing until Ayato reached out and ruffled their hair.

"Sit."

And so they did.

Mr. Kamisato's grin widened.

"Good dog." He said.

…

Good dog…?

For a moment, the world was on mute for Mr. Kamisato.

And in that personal silence, he pondered to himself:

Why does he care so much about a dog?

It matters not since they will always remain a dog in his eyes. The day he stops calling them a dog and treating them as one is the day he'll forget about the "Fixer of Hell."

"(Y/n)..."

Ayato turned to look at the woman who moaned.

Beidou was one of his favorite dog's new coworkers alongside Kazuha, Kaveh, Al Haitham, the blood-fiend Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto, and the rest. Unlike the aforementioned four, Beidou often regarded Ayato as a "manipulative bastard" while her long-time partner, Kazuha, felt that there is a certain level of melancholy about him that they repeatedly failed to comprehend. Kazuha had a better sense of the world than his dear old eye-patched friend, but even he finds Ayato unpredictable.

Ayato doesn't mind her hostility and their wariness, not when they took great care of his pet on their latest mission. 

Yet, he's holding back a glare.

"(Y/nnnnnn)..."

He doesn't appreciate the way her hand repeatedly traveled down his dog's thigh.

"H-Hey, you're d-drunk–" (Y/n) kept "discreetly" glancing at Ayato, worried. "Q-Quit it! Y-You're making me uncomfortable, man–"

"Shhhhh!" Beidou hushed in a low and seductive tone. 

"Just wait, (Y/n), I give better kisses when I'm far from sober."

Ayato's eye twitched.

How intriguing.

"W-WH-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!!–"

"Your reward for killing the Eternity Devil, you scallywag~" She hiccupped, red-faced. "Kiss, with tongue, re-mem-ber?"

Mr. Kamisato closed his eyes, clenching his fists beneath the table as his colleagues drank and ate to their hearts' content. She's drunk. She'll likely regret those words tomorrow.

For a moment, he wished he could drown himself in Kaveh's talks about wearing his father's hand-me-downs or staying in Public Safety for the paycheck. Or maybe hone in on how Itto kept adding zeros to his IQ when asked. 

But his whole being was focused on this peculiar conversation.

Suppose a lonesome dog will latch on to any attention it will get.

"K-Kiss…" (Y/n) squeaked.

Don't be so overjoyed.

Ayato desperately wanted to say.

Can't you tell that between the two of us, it's me who you would choose in a heartbeat?

"Who's kissing who now?" Ayato raised his hand, calling for the waiter while staring at the morally conflicted (Y/n). "A glass, please."

(Y/n) paused, not looking at both Ayato and Beidou. They were deep in thought, assessing the situation as though it was their most life-threatening moment. 

Good.

They perked up again, somewhat sweating.

"U-Uh, Mr. Kamisato! H-Have you heard? I found an important metal-piece thing and grabbed it!"

Ayato no longer held back a defeated sigh and clenched his fists under the table.

… Disappointing. 

So they have chosen to ignore his confrontation instead of turning down Beidou's advances. Shame. Ayato's face contorted, but no one noticed his dismay other than Kaveh, who did not know what to make of it at the time.

"Yes, I have, and what fine news it was indeed. Excellent work. Oh, to have been a fly in the wall..."

Seeing as that "piques" his interest, Kazuha leaned his elbows on the table.

"While we're on the topic, Mister Kamisato…" 

Kazuha proceeded to add more to the subject, calmly stating all the information and inferences the group had acquired after the last mission. The "metal-piece" thing (Y/n) found was a portion of the Gun Devil, and Kazuha blabbered about how it appeared that (Y/n) had been targeted by many devils.

"–somehow (Y/n) is at the crux of everything. You know something that we do not, right Mister Kamisato?"

It's only natural for Kazuha to act this way. (Y/n) had no formal training yet fought the Eternity Devil for three days without rest. They had even utilized the Chainsaw Devil's ("Thoma" was its new name) power to torture them nonstop. Devils regenerate by drinking blood so they grained the Eternity devil regularly, yelling and taunting it like a maniac. So in Kazuha's conclusion, (Y/n) was not only stranger than they suppose; they are stranger than they can suppose.

Division 4's and Ayato's main objective is to hunt this "Gun Devil", but there's no need to mind such trifles. At least Makoto is dead. That's one battle won.

Ayato gazed at Kazuha, then his drink.

"What an interesting notion. How about a game?" Ayato placed a finger on his lip. "What do they call this… was it called hot pot? Hmm… No matter." 

"The mechanics of the game is to outdrink your opponent," Ayato smiled. "Will you accept this duel?"

As if on time, Beidou placed her empty glass down, making Kazuha just a bit more confident to take the risk. Kazuha nodded.

"Excuse me! Two sakes, please!"

Beidou, who would've normally banned Kazuha from drinking because of his height and not his adult age, yelled on top of her tops.

"HE-HE-HEYYY!!! MAKE IT THREEEE!!! I'LL PLAY THE DAMN GAME TOO!!!"

"MORE SASHIMI!!! THERE BETTER NOT BE A BEAN MIXED IN THERE!!!" Itto demanded soon after.

"I-I'd take a plate of sweet potatoes and cheese, please!" Kaveh humbly requested, fixing his red hairclips.

"HEY WAIT, ME TOO!!! MORE TEMPURA TOO!!!" (Y/n) followed, causing Al Haitham to cover his ears. 

Ayato smirked, drinking his mug. He already knows how this will end.

—--------------

Just a few drinks in, Kazuha proved his humanity by slowly fluttering his eyes to sleep.

Both Kazuha and Beidou failed to defeat Ayato in his game, albeit the latter wasn't trying their best. The others lost focus on the match when they knew Ayato had secured victory the moment he gave the mechanics. It's hopeless. Even a newbie such as the salt-and-pepper haired man knew it was a battle whose result had long been decided. 

"Excuse me, sir," Ayato smiled, smug. "May I have another drink, please?"

Mr. Kamisato retrieved his umpteenth beer, eager to take a sip but as soon as he had it in his hands, that woman chimed in again. 

She kissed them.

…

"... Goodness," Ayato muttered emptily.

That bold woman kissed what's his.

Ayato shook his head slightly, drinking his glass with a malicious glint in his eyes. As that woman aggressively thrust her tongue inside (Y/n)'s mouth, his dog shook, peering over the unimpressed Mr. Kamisato. He made it known to them that he was not pleased by this front-row display of "affection", but (Y/n) made little effort to stop it. He heard her moan and scrutinized the way she yanked their collar to deepen the "kiss", closing all distance between them.

He could've sworn the mug cracked a bit so he loosened his hold. Mr. Kamisato had felt another "headache" settling in as he watched that filth violate his pet with perverse pleasure. He snarled quietly.

What a low-quality "treat".

"Is this what you call a reward?" Ayato muttered. 

She must taste horrible. 

His (Y/n) must feel horrible.

Surely they wouldn't enjoy being taken by another person? 

Yet they're melting in her arms. 

Ayato scoffed.

What an unpleasant sight.

He felt... unsettled and restless.

Suddenly, they pulled away. Ayato was almost impressed (relieved) until he saw the reason behind (Y/n)'s distress. That kiss was disgusting, and everyone at that table will reasonably agree on that after seeing what had happened to (Y/n).

"HAHAHAHAHA!" The blood fiend laughed heartily. "IT'S IN THEIR MOUTH!!! IT'S IN THEIR MOUTH!!!"

That disgusting acidic liquid…

Itto elbowed Al Haitham beside him.

"AND YA BOYS KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ANYTHING NUTRITIOUS GETS INSIDE (Y/N)'S MOUTH?!?"

Mr. Kamisato stood up and immediately pulled (Y/n) away from Beidou, pampering their lips with tissues and scrubbing the remains of that wench. His eyes sharpened as (Y/n) leaned into his touch, trembling while grabbing his white dress shirt. Ayato ignored how he would've normally felt a twinge of disgust over the stains they left on his clothes and gently cradled them; his focus now aimed at Beidou– disregarding how the other members laughed or visibly shivered at the sight.

… it's puke.

"THEY SWALLOW IT!!!"

Ayato's eyelids lowered as he heard (Y/n) gulped Beidou's vomit involuntarily, cringing while sobbing– gagging. Itto's laughter drowns out any sounds of concern. (Y/n) hands flew to their throat, clawing to spit everything out as the others watched. 

Is this… what people call "headaches"?

How dare she.

She dared not only steal his dog's first kiss but also dared to vomit inside them. Beidou had publicly disrespected what was under his control.

His eyes were emptier than before.

Unacceptable.

He did not fail to notice the others in the room as well. Kazuha jolted up awake at the commotion and searched for a tissue immediately. Some watched out of morbid curiosity like Al Haitham, while there’s people who nervously laughed without knowing what to do like Kaveh, and the rest hollered with the blood fiend. 

The last category was filled with employees who had been in the department long enough to know Beidou’s antics. As one of them had told (Y/n) before the party started, Beidou had kissed nearly everyone in the room they’re in already when drunk. Couple that fact with how these colleagues have most of their sanity stripped away and live their lives unhinged, and you got yourself a group of people who no longer processes traumatic events as it is. To them, this is comedy.

The superior Public Safety Devil Hunter shifted his glare to them, effectively halting their laughter.

Mr. Kamisato will be keeping an eye on them.

He knows their names and their faces.

“Tch.”

Ayato roughly dabbed their mouth, cooing at his traumatized (Y/n) as the others looked out for Beidou. (Y/n)'s hands remained locked on their esophagus as if pushing out the last remaining toothpaste from the tube. Pitiable. And somehow, for ones with a sadistic inclination as he does, charming–

No.

Get it out.

Get it all out without hurting what's his.

Scrub every last trace of that woman out of them.

Mr. Kamisato let go of the tissue and brought his thumb against (Y/n)'s lips. Their breath hitched as his ministrations differed greatly from before. Instead of something so intense and near degrading, the way Ayato wiped the stains was warm. Intimate.

Yet Ayato's permanent polite smile betrayed his thoughts.

Blindfolds. Hands. Kneel. Blindfolds. Hands. Kneel.

Squish.

He closed his eyes.

Ayato did not care for whatever happens to Beidou next– she can get killed by a devil next week for all he cares– but he will not allow anything of this sort to occur ever again.

"Oh, my dearest (Y/n)," this time, he smiled not to seem normal but to comfort. And such a genuine gesture scared Ayato deep down. "Allow me to help you get it off your system, okay?"

Finally, their coworkers fully acknowledged (Y/n)'s plight. Kazuha was the first to lend his handkerchief, something Ayato made a mental note of. Kaveh turned around instead. The hairs in the blonde's arms certainly stood the straightest. In response, Al Haitham rolled his eyes over how squirmish his fellow recruit was.

"I have a grandmother who often vomits, perhaps–" 

Kaveh immediately cut off Al Haitham, "Wait, you're actually volunteering to help?"

He shrugged. "No, I was merely offering advice on how to–"

Ayato snapped.

"I'll take care of this. Alone."

Ayato's grip on (Y/n) tightened, pulling them close to his chest protectively. He can sense them eager to cough out the vile shoved down their throat but sweetly, he will not give a damn if they released all that in his chest. Ayato led their head on his shoulder. His hand ran through their scalp, soothing them.

Every decision Kamisato Ayato makes is final.

He needn't hear more of their so-called input.

They don't need you.

His (Y/n) does not need ANY of you.

Slowly, Ayato tilted the nauseous (Y/n)'s chin.

"You'll let me take control, won't you, love?"

They nodded, tears in the corner of their eyes. Charmingly weak. A reflection of their humanity. The humanity Ayato did not care about for so long.

"Good do–" Ayato stopped himself.

"Good," he chuckled. "Just good. Now, follow me to the restroom."

He didn't let (Y/n) interact with anyone else that night.

—----------

That incident occurred yesterday, and it was still fresh in their memory. 

(Y/n) had been especially gloomy as of late and had been ordered to never talk to Beidou until permitted by Mr. Kamisato. Instead of staying at Kazuha's apartment with Itto, Ayato made arrangements so that they'll have a room in his government-owned apartment. The man from then on refuses to let them out unless a mission requires them. It rattled (Y/n). In a sense, they were like a dog caged for a vase they did not break. 

Like most mistreated dogs, they whined silently. Which were sounds that never go unnoticed by caring owners. 

And all caring owners will prioritize their pets more than their phone ringing.

Ayato immediately muted his phone.

42 missed calls from Mr. Kaedehara, 36 from Ms. Beidou, and 11 from Kaveh.

He swiped their text notifications all away and faced it down on the table.

"(Y/n), my dear," Ayato began in a soft voice as he set down his boba tea and the take-out for tonight's meal. "Something troubles you. Though you may not wish to share at the moment, know that I am here for you should you ever need an ear."

(Y/n) looked up with gratitude in their eyes. Although they were not vocal about it like they usually are, they did not expect Mr. Kamisato to be perceptive and kind enough to acknowledge their demeanor.

"Thank you, Mr. Kamisato," (Y/n) mumbled. "It's just... I'm still pretty pissed by what happened. I had an absolute shit first kiss–"

They sobbed, voice cracking.

"–and even if I kiss a bunch of other women or guys in the future, I'll probably never get that taste of vomit off my mind, won't I?"

The room went quiet, and Ayato's shoulders dropped at their pitiful sounds.

He retrieved his cup of boba milk tea on the table again and silently placed it in front of (Y/n), aligning the straw in the direction of their lips.

"I understand," Ayato replied. "Sometimes, wounds of the heart take time to heal. But remember, there is a chance to create beautiful memories within every setback. Now open your mouth."

With a sigh, they took a sip of the boba milk tea, the taste of blueberry cheesecake tantalizing their tastebuds. (Y/n) relaxed, the tension in their body dissipating. However, as if urged to see their discomfort yet again out of perverse pleasure, Ayato spoke once more.

"You will likely never erase the taste of vomit in your mind for all eternity."

(Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed.

"However," Ayato cupped their cheek, forcing them to share his gaze.

"Now that you will forever live with me, you will have the chance to taste a wide variety of new flavors to the point you will never have to recall that unpleasant taste again." 

As they savored the comforting flavor, Ayato's eyes twinkled mischievously, and a small smile tugged at his lips. He chuckled. 

"And I would like you to take notice, (Y/n)," he began playfully, "that this delightful boba tea we're sharing is the taste of your first indirect kiss."

Surprised, (Y/n) messily choked on their drink, spluttering the content in their white shirt as embarrassment colored their cheeks red. Ayato chuckled softly, reaching out to pat (Y/n)'s back gently as they recovered.

That adorable expression. It beats that of a dog.

Their blush is human.

(Y/n) is human.

As (Y/n) wiped the sweet taste on their lips, they couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of hope, knowing that Mr. Kamisato will be there for them. Their lingering disappointment remains, that much is certain, but it will disappear in time. (Y/n) drank until the cup was emptied. It was a symbol of Mr. Kamisato's promise to make the taste of puke a distant memory and that–

In the end, everything will be alright.

He likes them. He's certain.

(Y/n) can make use of him.

Give Mr. Kamisato a chance, dearest (Y/n).

He'll add Ms. Beidou's death to his list of things to check off in your next assignment. 

Not only that, of course. She won’t be the only one that’ll keep him busy. He has not forgotten the faces of those who laughed at you during your dilemma. 

Maybe once the officer reassigns them all to a more… enthralling location, he’ll get a more satisfactory answer to the question:

"What does sanity truly mean when demanded of you by a Devil?"

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

What R# Means: The ABC's of Fear.

The grading system used by the OIAR is one of TMAGP's more central mysteries. The show is rife with administrative work that's obfuscated even to the employees that assign each case's rating.

I have my own theory about DPHW that I think is proving more and more likely each episode, but as of yet I don't think a comprehensive theory on CAT# or R# has been given. CAT# is still proving a hard to crack but I now think I can take a strong stab at the meaning behind R#.

Spoilers for TMAGP 1-7 below the cut.

For the people who aren't keeping close track of this I'll break down how those terms are used. Each incident the OIAR assesses is assigned a case number in the following format CAT#R#DPHW. CAT, short for Category, is assigned a value of 1, 2, 3, or any combination of those three digits (12, 13, etc.). R, short for Rank, are graded C, BC, B, AB, A, or S (potentially AS but it's not come up). For DPHW each letter is a category itself and replaced with a digit from 0-9 for its grading. So there are 6 separate statistics that the OIAR uses to assess each incident.

If I'm correct about DPHW it's a ranking based on the qualities the incident presents. That's obviously very valuable information. Because of how CAT# is formatted we know it's likely three non-mutually exclusive facets. I had some idea about what it could be but it's proving quite tricky to nail down.

However it's R# that is the topic of today's post and it's something I've had a few ideas on before. We know can assume from its formatting it's a linear scale. C is the "worst/weakest/etc." while S is the "best/strongest/etc.". Initially, I thought that R# was simply a straight forward ranking of potency or threat. Higher the rank, spookier the incident. Very early on that seemed like a strong idea. It was quickly disproven but I then had the idea that Rank was instead the scale of the effect. Higher the rank, wider the incident. Also quickly disproven.

Now I'm thinking it's graded on how hard it is to deny an incident's supernatural nature. Simply put, an outside observer can more readily find a believable rational explanation for an incident of lower rank than of higher rank. Either via their own conviction to believe the supernatural isn't real, or based on the story the OIAR cooks up to explain it.

For that to make sense it needs to tick two boxes. It needs to be able to be pre-assigned to an incident as all CAT#R#DPHW's seem to be, and it needs to be useful information to track. As they're operating under the assumption that CAT#R#DPHW's can be pre-assigned then they're operating under the assumption that each type of incident is relatively stable. Meaning that the likelihood that it can be rationally explained is also relatively stable. Tick 1. There is also a really strong reason for the OIAR to use this as a grade. They're the Office of Incident Assessment and Response, the Response Department might be dead but it was a part of the initial plan. Grading each incident on how likely they are to cause concern should the details go public is very useful for deciding how to approach any given case. Tick 2.

It being useful is all well and good but it does also need to have some evidence so let's look at our highest ranked incident to this point: CAT23RAB2155 - Transformation (Eye) -/- Trespass. A man grew eyes over his body. That's pretty tricky to explain away as a medical mystery. On the other end of the scale we've got CAT2RC1157 - Dolls (Watching), or CAT2RC3338 -Agglomeration (Miscellany) -/- Congregation†. Just a creepy doll and some crappy antiques. I think of all the incidents the one that's the least immediate fit is CAT3C7494 - Collection (Blood) -/- Musical. Most of that incident is very easy to slot in here. "It's just a violin that has sharp strings, so what?". But it's also a violin that made some people eat some other people. However, mass hysteria events do get reported every so often IRL and do have a very long history. So in the grand scheme of things I don't think the details of the event are necessarily all that outlandish. It's really in the realms of urban legend and witch hunts than it is definitive proof of the supernatural.

With all that out the way this is the broad strokes of how I could see this breaking down. C ranks are things you can entirely write off as urban legends, freak accidents, and stress. Potentially things that might not need any covering up at all. I think the majority of events people could entirely say didn't happen will end up in C. "Of course the doll wasn't watching you, dolls aren't alive". B ranks are things that are harder to entirely discount as things that happened but are themselves still relatively easy to excuse as mundane. "Sure, the circumstances of that blogger's disappearance are strange but people go missing all the time, doesn't mean a monster did it". We don't have any A ranks but given the AB rank we do have I'd say A's are things in which no rational explanation can account for it, and as such require more extensive covering up, if it indeed happened. "Okay, maybe the supernatural is real because people don't just grow eyes like that".

As I mentioned early, an S rank does exist. We've not seen this attributed to anything in the show yet and so it might prove to be a special case. However on Klaus' sheet‡ from the ARG it's attributed to an interesting incident. A CAT1RS[No DPHW] with the note Mr. B. And, well, if you know, you know.

From Klaus' sheet we also know that the higher ranked incidents happen less often than lower ones and that idea generally tracks with what we know of TMP and TMA. The supernatural tends to be something you can explain away. It often is explained away. Incredibly overt manifestations are a rarity.

This one will be a slow burn to see if it bears out. Much like with DPHW's it's only really interesting when things go against the theory. I'm not as certain on this one as I am the DPHW theory but I do think it's got legs with our current data.

† This did also feature people who seemed to erase their physical features from your memory after you interacted with them. This isn't something I mention in the theory because it's not taken into account by the header and case number. A major flaw in the OIAR's methodology here is that all incidents are only ever one thing. So the case number is based solely on the presence of lots of miscellaneous objects, rather than the mind-wiping people carrying them.

‡I have made an incident master doc here, containing all the current cases, their CAT#'s, R#'s, DPHW's, etc. It has about as much information on each as I think is reasonable, including who narrates it, a link to its episode, and any other relevant notes, as well as headers for incidents we didn't hear. Additionally it also contains the Klaus sheet (German and English) and links to it when an incident matches. It will be updated each episode after the episode is publicly available.

[cherriegyuu]

breaking point | yjh

pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader genre: angst word count: 1.5k a/n: something to celebrate jeonghan's birthday, who even writes angst as birthday present?

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from lover (ts)

Jeonghan ➝ AfterglowThis ultraviolet morning light below Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh ↳ Jeonghan was never one to lose his patience with people, least of all you. But one day a fight gets out of control and it leaves you wondering if your relationship has come to an end.

The sound of the door closing still echoed through your mind. It had been hours since Jeonghan left but you were still sitting in the same spot, eyes locked on the door as if he was going to burst through at any second. 

You knew that he wasn't. At that moment you didn’t even know if you'd ever see Jeonghan again. He was so angry when he left, rightfully so. 

All of your fights had been rational ones, both of you would calm down for a little a while before talking again. The screaming matches weren't something either of you were into but your fights had never gotten that big before. Not even once. 

It seemed as if the one thing you had always been afraid of finally came to light. 

You and Jeonghan weren't well matched, you were too different. From the way you were raised to the way you saw the world. 

Jeonghan had an almost romantic view of everything around him. While he was one to play an infinite amount of pranks on his friends, he was never overly mean about it – if he was mean at all –, and those pranks only happened because he wanted to win whichever game they were playing. To him, because he wasn't someone who would intentionally hurt anyone, it was hard to understand why someone would. And while you thought that was beautiful, that trace of naivety, you also saw it as infuriating.

So when a coworker went over him, and claimed Jeonghan's project as his own, you couldn't hold back the petty I told you he would do that to you. Because you had in fact talked to Jeonghan so many times about it. However, Jeonghan didn't seem to see it, at all.

"I don't think we should be having this conversation right now" he sighed, sitting on the opposite side of the couch. 

He was tired and stressed, the last thing he needed was to hear those words from you. Especially when all he wanted the entire day was to get to you, rest his head over your thighs while you played with his hair.

But you didn't seem to see it or you didn't care, he wasn't too sure. 

"This is the exact moment we should be having this conversation because when morning comes you'll just forget about this feeling and you'll let him or any other idiot out there do the same thing to you  again"

Jeonghan couldn't help the distressed groan that left him. He hated how the whole situation sounded like a joke coming from your lips, how you had this little spark in your eyes — as if you were enjoying his misery.

"You can't possibly be angry at me," you said "I told you again and again that he was an asshole, that he would screw you over the second he got the chance. Like always, you didn't listen. The world isn't this great place, Jeonghan. Your friends are awesome but the world is actually really shitty and, apparently, you're the only that doesn't fucking see it"

He shook his head at you and stood up. Jeonghan pushed his feet inside his shoes and opened the other.

"You're leaving?"

"You know, the most rational part of my brain told me not to come here today" he scoffed, voice slightly rising "Because I knew you'd pull this shit and this was the last thing I needed"

You stood up but didn't dare to move an inch closer to him.

"I didn't do anything!"

"I wanted to be comforted!" he all but screamed "I had an awful day and all I wanted, all I needed, was for you to tell me that everything was going to be okay, that maybe I could talk with my boss and show him that it was actually me who did all the work. But you decided that what I needed was to remember feeling like shit"

All of your neighbors could probably hear the fighting. Jeonghan held the door open, chest heaving in evident distress.  

"Please let me know when you find my girlfriend, because whoever this is" he waved his hand  in your direction "isn't her"

He slammed the door shut behind him, hard enough that you felt the windows shake. 

It had been over three hours since Jeonghan left and the only difference was that you sat back down. You couldn't move or anything else. 

While you were talking with him, you knew that you were pushing him too far, saying more than you should. It wasn't the time, everything was wrong. Yet, you couldn't stop the words from coming out.

You knew that you were projecting. That there was no real reason for you to be acting that way, Jeonghan did nothing and was right, all he needed was comfort. And maybe it was your own insecurities talking, your shit month at work, how although you told him otherwise you always behaved just like him and your coworkers were throwing their work at you and did nothing about it. The you acted with Jeonghan was the way you should have reacted at your own job but the words simply died on your lips whenever they were around.

You grabbed your phone from the couch, it was almost two in the morning. You knew Jeonghan was probably home by then but still, you wanted to make sure. Touching your phone a few times, you called Seungkwan.

"Is he home yet?" you asked as soon as the line connected.

"Hello to you too" you could picture Seungkwan rolling his eyes “and yes, he’s home”

Silence followed. You didn’t have anything else to say and you knew Seungkwan was probably a little angry at you. His voice had a little edge to it. You knew Jeonghan, he probably didn’t say anything to his roommate, but it was written all over his face that you had gotten into a fight. 

“Should I leave the door unlocked?” Seungkwan asked with a sigh.

Finally, your eyes filled with tears and you let out a sob. The tears refused to fall since Jeonghan left. The tightness in your throat was so unbearable that it was a wonder you managed to say those four words tho Seungkwan. 

“Don’t cry, fix it” he said before ending the call.

On your way to Jeonghan’s place, your mind was racing. The darkest part of your brain took over and made you believe that your relationship had come to an end, that the fight had been so bad that you had finally reached a point of no return. It took everything in you to not ask the driver to take you back home. 

There was only one way you could ever find out if it was actually over. 

Like he said, Seungkwan left the door unlocked and was kind enough to keep the lights on in the living room. Locking the door behind you, you used your phone as a guide to Jeonghan’s room at the end of the hallway. 

You opened the door quietly, to not startle him or his roommate. 

Jeonghan had his back turned to the door, body curled into a small ball. You got into bed behind him, legs adjusting to his and you wrapped your arm around his waist, forehead pressed to back.

Jeonghan’s body stiffened for a second and then relaxed once he realized it was you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said before he could say anything “I don’t know why I said those things, why I didn’t just hug you and say that it was going to be okay, that we could find a way to fix it”

Jeonghan turned on the bed, now facing you. The room was so dark you could barely make out the shape of his body, even after your eyes had gotten used to the lack of light.

“I need you to understand limits, yn. Sometimes you just keep pushing and pushing, and you don’t notice when the other person is at their limit”

His voice was low, a mixture of sleep and resentment. 

“And I end up hurting the people I love the most,” you said quietly, you ran your hand up from his chest to his neck. It wasn’t sexual in any way, you just needed to feel him as much as possible, needed him to understand that you meant every word that you said “I’m really sorry. I don’t want to give you excuses, I just want to apologize. I don’t want to hurt you, ever. All I want to do is to love you, show you all the bright and beautiful places in the world. Always. Forever”

Jeonghan held your face and kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and finally your lips. He tucked your head on the crock of his neck and for a second it was so easy to lose yourself in him.

“Sleep now, love. We can talk more in the morning” 

He hugged you tightly and that was enough to give you hope that maybe there was still some part of your relationship that could be saved. 

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