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kashimos-hajime · 1 year

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—𝟐𝟕 - 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭... 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 | 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: getou suguru x fem!reader

summary: anonymous musician, kogane, had been dropping non-hints of who they were since they first began releasing music to the students of tokyo metropolitan technical college nine months ago to the frustration of everyone ever.

getou suguru, long-time (arguably #1) fan and campus heartthrob with a reputation is determined to find out exactly who they are before he graduates, and he has no idea where to start. that is, until resident idiot and best friend and roommate, gojo satoru, points him in the direction of you, the musical genius behind kogane

word count: 9.3k

a/n: thank you for waiting for this chapter! just a few content warnings before we start! there are mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, and depictions of grief. i really want to emphasize that things that suguru goes through are not pretty and he did deal with heavy loss, which shows in the flashbacks and even now. please take care of yourselves!

[12:39 PM]

Gojo Satoru met Getou Suguru when he was fifteen. Getou was a new student who tested into the high school of their greater school which was an all-grade educational program from kindergarten to twelfth grade, but one had to test into every new division, so when Gojo Satoru went from middle school to high school, he sat next to a tall boy with long black hair during the exam despite knowing he’d get in by his parents recommendation alone.

The same boy with long black hair would ask if he could sit next to Satoru on the first day of class.

“Getou Suguru,” he introduces himself politely, smiling. He’s tying his hair up into a bun, sweeping hair that falls out behind his ear, and Satoru looks over his sunglasses at the boy. His smile is warm and easy, his eyes gleaming with an eager, sharp glint. “You’re Gojo Satoru, right? We were next to each other at the exam.”

“Yeah. I remember you.” He pulls the chair out and cocks his head. “Seat’s free.”

Satoru only truly began to know Suguru when they were seventeen, standing in a cemetery with snow falling all around them.

“Suguru,” he murmurs, approaching the boy who’s grown taller and skinnier in the years since they’ve met. The row of tombstones Suguru stands between are their silent witnesses, the air still and quiet away from the mumble of the attendees.

It’s only been a few weeks since she died. The funeral process was long and arduous. Riko’s family had invited them both to the private wake and cremation, while a public funeral service was held a week after the fire.

Suguru declined to speak at the public service, so Satoru went up in his place, but none of his words felt right, and they still sit all janky on his tongue even now as he stops by his best friend. Now, the forty-ninth day since Riko’s death, they’ve returned to inter her ashes, and Satoru thought, perhaps a bit foolishly, that because shijūkunichi has finally come, the grief would get easier.

And maybe, for Satoru, it has.

It’s why he feels the need to approach Suguru, who has slipped away to a far off corner of this haunted place, away from the rest of the small crowd gathered. Satoru has always latched on carelessly to whatever Suguru anchors to, but now Suguru is the one drifting, so maybe he has to step up. It makes him feel awkward, and out of his depth, but his best friend is going too far out—far enough that if Satoru waits any longer, he knows that Suguru won’t come back.

Shit, he thinks, sighing. When did everything get so fucked up?

Satoru stops a few paces back, hesitant to completely enter the far off world Suguru has crafted for himself since the fire. “What are you doing over here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Suguru asks, a bit muffled, except it doesn’t sound like Suguru anymore. It sounds like someone taking hold of his best friend’s body and puppeting his mouth in a droning, lifeless monotone. “Trying to smoke.”

“Smoking at a funeral is classy,” snorts Satoru, walking until he is right next to him. There’s a frantic click, the sound of chattering teeth, and blue eyes fall to his best friend. Suguru’s hands are shaking around the lighter, and Satoru reaches over to steady his hand, clamping his entire fist over Suguru’s so that he can’t keep trying. A cigarette hangs, twitching, between Suguru’s trembling lips. Satoru’s gut drops. “Suguru, you know you can’t do that here.”

Suguru drops his hand away, but he doesn’t keep trying to ignite the butt of the smoke pinched between his teeth. “Why not? Who’s going to tell me to stop? Shoko?”

“Well, no, but…” Satoru struggles to put what he wants to say into words. “You’re the righteous one, Suguru. Preach about the side effects of smoking, and how it’ll kill you if you keep being careless. All the nasty shit like cancer and getting ugly really fast, and…” When did it get so hard to talk to him? “Besides, they taste awful.”

“Awful,” echoes Suguru, putting his cigarette back into his box. “Right. I dunno. I’ve tasted shittier things.” His boots shift in the crust of snow, and he sighs, breath misting. A beat. Then, he tosses the box of cigarettes towards Satoru who snatches it mid-air, tucking it and his hands into his jacket pockets. He glances back to make sure he won’t trip, before he backs up and finds himself a seat on a headstone. Resting his ankle on his knee, Satoru lets his shoulders slump forward.

Suguru sighs, looking up at the sky. “I’m getting hungry.”

“You’ve lost some weight,” Satoru says, peering over his sunglasses. “An appetite is good.”

“I guess that’s true.” Suguru tilts his head over his shoulder, and a faint curve at his mouth makes him only look more tired. “I didn’t eat this morning. I felt too full.”

To be fair, Satoru barely managed to keep a bowl of oatmeal down. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

“We should probably wait for the rest of ‘em.”

“Fuck it. They won’t miss us too much.”

“Kuroi-san might. She brought me those packets of soy milk cartons… and I said I’d get them later.” Suguru looks away again, and Satoru does not feel like he’s sitting two feet away from Suguru. He is sitting across a stormy ocean and his best friend is a speck in the distance, so impossibly far to reach. He could scream himself bloody, and Suguru would not turn around. “She said now that Riko’s dead, there’s no one else who’ll drink them, but she keeps buying the stuff out of habit.”

“She’ll understand. You could give some to your sisters.”

“The twins don’t like soy milk. My parents only buy it for me ‘cause I’m the only one who drinks it. They keep fucking asking me…” Suguru shakes his body out, his hair sliding over his shoulders in dull ripples of black before turning to look at Satoru. “Nevermind, yeah, why don’t we get something to eat.”

Satoru drives Suguru’s car for the first time on that day, and they eat, and drink, and it’s almost normal.

It’s almost untouched by death.

Except everywhere Suguru goes, the air decays, and Satoru breathes every second of it in. Suguru is Satoru’s shadow, but Satoru’s light is fading the longer he looks at his best friend struggling to even think about his next moment. He knows the he doesn’t mean to ruin everything. It’s partly Satoru’s fault, too—every time he looks at Suguru, all he can imagine is Riko and how she’s dead.

They walk the streets, chatting idly about nothing, until a store catches Suguru’s eye.

“Follow me,” he says, grabbing Satoru’s hand, and pulling him into the store. Letting out a surprised noise, he grabs onto his sunglasses and lets Suguru pull him into the store. Suguru grins at all the dispensers and aisles of the different candy, and grabs his wallet, turning to the white-haired boy.

“What are you doing?” he asks, bemused.

“You like candy, don’t you? Sweet-tooth.” Disappearing between the shelves of the convenience store, Suguru picks packets off the shelves, and drops them into a basket he’s snatched. “I’ve been an ass,” he acknowledges, “but you’re sticking by me, so I gotta repay you.”

“I’d stick by your sorry ass even after death,” Satoru says, and means it more than he thinks. Suguru’s smile flickers, and the cracked sternum Satoru has been living with since he got the call of smoke circling the sky at his school, aches like an old knee in the rain. His heart sags. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know.”

“I know you know. I just wanna remind you,” he answers. “And don’t pay for this shit. Pay me back for something that really matters. Not money. I’ve got enough of that to last a lifetime, alright?”

Suguru nods. “Alright.”

What Satoru doesn’t know is that when his best friend goes home that afternoon, he pours the three-quarters full soy milk down the sink, and leaves his house, empty carton in hand.

[FIVE YEARS LATER, AT THE SAME TIME]

“You said your boyfriend was coming?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

“One matcha latté, one iced americano, and one iced vanilla latté.”

“Thank you.” You watch as the server unloads their drinks onto the table, throat too tight to even speak, and you stare at your matcha so you don’t have to look up at the man sitting across from you, watching with an unreadable gaze. It makes you want to squirm out of your skin, to find out what it looks like when he looks at you when he thinks you’re not watching. “He’s late,” Sukuna observes.

“He had repetoire that ended at twelve-thirty,” you reply. “It’s on the other side of campus.”

“So, he’s a dancer?”

You nod, your phone tight in your hands underneath the table. Struggling not to glance at your screen, you finally look up at Sukuna who takes a sip of his drink. He looks the same. Same pink hair, same chiselled face that’s only grown sharper with age, same cropped length and big build and strong jaw, observant eyes that seem to catch everything, even when it doesn’t look like he’s looking.

Your heart aches, and you cup your drink, hoping the iciness will melt into your burning hands.

“How did you guys meet?” he asks casually.

“School project.”

“Your music stuff, right?”

Another nod. He clears his throat.

“If I thought I’d do all the talking, I would’ve done this over a phone call,” he remarks dryly, and your eyes meet his. He half-smiles wryly, and arches a dark eyebrow. “You used to be really talkative with me.”

“It’s been five years, Sukuna. Don’t you think that that sort of time should allow for some sort of rust?”

“True,” he allows. “Still.”

“Are we just going to keep dancing around the subject?” you breathe softly, and his eyes widen just barely. Sukuna tries to make himself hard to read, but you hate that even now you can see what guilt looks like. He looks away, expression darkening. “Isn’t that why you asked to meet up with me? So we can talk about this stuff?”

“I tried. You insisted that whole time that it was fine. I kept asking you if we were okay, and every time you said that it was water under the bridge,” he reminds you evenly. “That’s what you said.”

“I didn’t mean it. I was trying to fucking cope and not lose you as my friend.” You shake your head just as the door chimes to signify a new arrival. “We were friends, but… Sukuna, I—“

“Sunbeam,” a voice interrupts, and you tear your eyes away to see a familiar shape walking over. He’s dressed in loose clothes, and he carries his gym bag. Sweat sticks to his skin, and you wonder if he ran all the way here as he lets out a breath, shoulders rising and falling rapidly. You scoot over and he slides into the booth with you, kissing your temple. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you whisper, and he scans your expression before smiling and turning to look at the third person at the table. Sukuna’s eyes narrow at the intruder, sizing him up, and you place a hand on Suguru’s leg still pulsing with energy. “Uh, introductions. Getou Suguru, meet…” and the name catches but you swallow and bear it, “Ryomen Sukuna.”

“Nice to meet you,” Suguru says, and his hand clasps on your own comfortingly. Sukuna smiles.

“Nice to meet you, too. (Name)’s told me a little about you. All good things.”

Suguru grins, but it’s not warm like you’re used to. His hand squeezes tighter, and your heart rots at the anger behind his eyes. “I’m sure she’s lying.”

If Sukuna notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

“This is yours,” you say, taking the vanilla latté and dragging it over to him, and he thanks you quickly before taking a sip. Your mind is a whirl, any thought you wanted to voice disappearing into fine sand. When Sukuna had texted you to set this meeting up, you had been with Suguru at a park sharing bottles of ramune and street food they had bought, and in between sweet strawberry kisses and the feeling of his hand on your face, you remember when he convinced you that he’d behave well if he came with you, how you let him take your phone to formulate a response with your approval.

You admit, knowing that Suguru’s so protective over you comforts your nerves more than Yuuta would’ve. After all, Sukuna doesn’t know a thing about Suguru, and Suguru has a flair of creating more game plans than needed. They have the advantage.

Suguru will keep you on the straight and narrow. He’ll keep you focused. He’ll…

“Baby,” he whispers in your ear, and you blink, looking at him. He tilts his head. “You feeling okay?”

You quickly nod. “Mhm.”

He observes you for a moment, disbelieving. Then, he kisses you forehead and you force yourself to pay attention to the conversation at hand. Suguru’s gaze flashes between the two of you, and a tug at your stomach forces you to smile at him.

“So, anything you want to talk about?” you ask politely.

“Well, tell me what you’ve been up to for the past few years. It’s been a while.”

“Nothing, really,” you reply. “Just university.”

“Music?”

“Yeah.” You look down at your drink and Sukuna chuckles. “Mostly composing, songwriting, that kind of stuff. I dabble in production.”

“She’s the best in her program,” Suguru says. You shoot him a skeptical look. “What?”

“You’re biased because I’m your project partner,” you tell him but he shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. You just are.”

“Suguru—“

“I believe him,” Sukuna inputs, tearing two pairs of eyes away from each other. “You practiced until your fingers bled for every school event. I remember you would bring your guitar to classes, and I’ve got a few bruises to count for it falling on me.”

“It was an accident every time,” you shoot back, your smile turning more genuine. “And I’m sure the bruises have disappeared by now.��

“A concussion or two…”

“Shut up,” you snap. “You’re always so dramatic. I always wondered why all the girls fell for your mystery when, really, you’re a big crybaby.”

“Says you.”

“(Name) being a crybaby?” Suguru cuts in, voice neutral. He gazes at you, eyebrows arched. “I don’t believe it.”

“She’s a big crybaby,” Sukuna affirms, the corner of his mouth pulling up slightly. His eyes narrow and you’re taken aback by the fondness there. “Every time we watched a sad video or read a tragedy in class, I had to ready the tissues, and that time she cried because someone pushed me down the stairs… or that other time when you thought Kashimo was trying to kill me…”

“He was trying to kill you because his girlfriend broke up with him for you,” you complain, face heating up. Leaning forward, you glare at him. “You showed up to class with a black eye.”

“Badge of honour.”

You shake your head, your lips twitching into a smile before you realize what you’re doing and you blink, drawing back and crossing your arms over your chest. Sukuna notices immediately, and you glance at Suguru who’s staring hard into his vanilla latté. Clearing your throat, you reach for his arm, and your boyfriend glances at you, pasting a smile on immediately at your concerned expression.

“We got all our drinks. Why don’t we get some air?” he suggests, eyes never leaving yours. He reaches to take your hand, and squeezes it tightly. You nod, and the three of them rise together. Sukuna moves to help you with your jacket, but Suguru reaches across you, snatches his wrist, grinning ear to ear—so wide you’re sure his cheeks hurt. You freeze.

“I got it,” he says, on the edge of snapping, and you watch his knuckles blanche.

If it hurts, Sukuna shows no sign of it. His eyes dart to Suguru’s, and there’s a moment of tense silence before the former draws back.

“Right. Force of habit,” the pink-haired man murmurs, his eyes flitting to you. You clear your throat as Suguru takes your jacket, helping you put it on before taking hold of your tote bag and helping it onto your shoulder. You smile, taking hold of your matcha before grabbing Suguru’s hand. He hauls his gym bag onto his shoulder and drains his vanilla latté before scooting out of the booth and following Sukuna out of the café. You pause, and Suguru looks back when he realizes you aren’t following.

You walk up to him, placing a hand on his chest tentatively. “Hey,” you whisper, kissing his lips. His eyes widen at the PDA, but you only flash him a supportive smile. “I like you.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I just don’t know you like he does. I feel out of my depth.”

“You don’t need to,” you assure him quickly. “He knows someone I’m not anymore.” His gaze searches yours, and you step closer. “Suguru, we can leave now. We don’t have to keep hanging out with him. I know it’s not fair to put you in this position and I’d rather cut him off than make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.”

“He makes you happy,” he whispers. You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head. “I can tell. Talking to someone who knew you, a different version of you and maybe the person you were born as, I like seeing you so… differently. I wish I could show you what I was like when I was in highschool before Riko died.” He lifts his head to brush his lips against the crown of your head. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not. I don’t have to lie around you.” He dips his head and their mouths slot together. Your eyes slide shut as his fingers brush along your jaw. The feeling of his soft mouth against yours makes everything wipe from your head for just a second until he pulls away, and his knuckle brushes along your face. You feel the beads of his ring against your skin, and you turn to look at his hand.

His counterpart ring sits there, and you take a sip of your matcha latté, smiling.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles, kissing your temple, and you look up at him. “Let’s not keep him waiting.”

“Okay.” This time, you take the lead out the café and you push open the door to see Sukuna outside, sucking on a vape. He blows out the smoke, and you arch an eyebrow at the device in his hand which he pockets hastily. He notes your judgemental look, and shrugs facetiously.

“Better than cigarettes, isn’t it? You always fought me on that stuff.”

“Whatever. At least it smells better,” you reply, and they start to walk back towards the buildings where you and Suguru have your next classes just in case you need to make a hasty exit. You think of the benches near the studios, and mention that as your destination.

Sukuna agrees. Suguru is silent.

You walk between them, hand-in-hand with Suguru. Their arms swing, and you lean into him as you talk to Sukuna. It’s much easier than everything betrays, and a part of you revolts at it. How can you stand there, listen to Sukuna talk about taking in his younger half-brother after his grandfather died, how that changed his life (when, a bitter part of you comments, you couldn’t), and act like this is all normal?

Suguru wraps an arm around your shoulders, and you hold onto his wrist as they near their destination.

“So, that’s why you and Itadori-kun have different last names,” you comment. “I haven’t met him or Megumi, but I’ve heard a little bit about them.”

“He and Megumi might be applying to university here.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Do you have any siblings, Getou-san?” Sukuna asks casually, and your boyfriend glances over.

“I have two little sisters. Twins. They’re a bit younger than your brother, though.” Suguru’s tone warms. “I have to take care of ‘em a lot, but it’s nice to have people depend on you, y’know.”

“I get that. I’m still new to taking care of him,” the other man admits, scratching his jaw. “But I guess I’m lucky to have skipped the part where he was younger.”

“Or, unlucky,” Suguru murmurs. Sukuna’s eyebrows furrow together, and you’re about to interject when someone saves you from that.

“Getou!” a voice cuts in, and the three of them look to see a woman approaching. A water bottle in hand and dressed in a leotard and a pair of thin joggers, Utahime approaches. She swipes the longer ends of her fringe out of her face back behind her ears and you raise a hand in greeting. “(Name). And, stranger.”

“Sukuna,” you supply, and Utahime eyes the man before turning to your boyfriend. Sukuna just stares back, silent.

“Are you coming to the drop-in tonight?” she asks instead, and you catch Sukuna taking another hit of his vape, blowing it over his shoulder away from you. He catches you staring and you roll your eyes.

“I dunno. I might have plans with the girlfriend,” your boyfriend answers. Utahime glances at you, but you only shrug and she lets out an annoyed sigh. “Why?”

“I’m trying to get a good grasp on who’s showing up. Some of the first years might be there early because they’re afraid of us, and if they’re gonna take up space, I wanna show up with a partner, and see if we can find a corner for ourselves just to make sure.”

“I think there’s a good reason to be afraid,” you say, smiling a little. Utahime huffs. “They see the fourth year with the scary face scar and they think they’re gonna get their asses handed to them.”

“They will if they’re anything close to cocky around me. So?” This, at Suguru.

“I can come for a bit before if you really need the manpower,” he relents. “I’m not really interested in the drop-in this week.”

“Why not?” you ask, sipping on your latté that’s mostly ice by now. “Not your style?”

“Just busy with other things.” Redirecting at Utahime, he runs a thumb underneath his bag strap. “Isn’t it a pas de deux?”

“Yeah. I thought we could partner if you came.”

“I think Choso mentioned he was going,” Suguru offers. “It won’t be too bad if he shows up.”

“I’ll shoot him a text.” Utahime glowers. “I’d rather die than pair up with a first year.”

“I know,” you murmur sympathetically, and she smiles grimly. “You’ll be fine. You’re great at dancing.”

“So are you, or so I’ve heard.” Winking, she takes a quick swig of water. Your mouth drops open, but she moves on to Getou before you can question her. “By the way, some of us were working on the Christmas showcase if you wanna come in early. When I left, Cygnets just started, but if you show up, they can probably shove you into the schedule before class starts.”

“You told her about…” You gesture vaguely and Suguru half-shrugs, looking at everyone except you. “What the fuck, dummy?”

“It was so romantic, I couldn’t help myself,” he says aloofly, but you grab his chin and make him look at you. He grins into your fingers. “What?”

“Dummy,” you repeat, squishing his cheeks. He surges forward to kiss between your eybrows and you screw up your face before he’s pulling back, smug. You let go of him, turning to look at Utahime. “Is anyone working on their projects with the music program?”

“Some fourth years are, but mostly it’s stuff we’ve got from our classes,” she answers. “I don’t think anyone’s doing their project piece.”

“We are,” Suguru says proudly.

“Really?”

“I haven’t even seen it,” you lament. “He won’t let me until it’s perfect.” You squeeze Suguru’s wrist hanging over your shoulder to grab your attention. “You should go practice, y’know.”

He frowns, eyes flicking over your shoulder. “You sure? Our classes don’t start for another forty-five minutes.” You smile, nodding. “But—“

“Trust me,” you whisper. “I really wanna see that dance, and… maybe some things we can only say when we’re alone.” Your stomach cramps in doubt, but you stubbornly ignore it, cupping his face. “I’ll be just fine, baby.” He snatches a kiss from your palm before pulling you close by the shoulders and kissing your hairline. “I’ll text you.”

“Promise.”

“Yeah.”

Utahime clears her throat, and the two look at her. “I’m going back inside with or without you, Getou.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he complains. “Such a pain.”

“I’ll beat your ass.”

“Actually, you cannot do that,” Suguru replies, his hand slipping off your shoulders. You grab hold, and he flashes you one last quick smile, one that spells out every emotion you cannot name just quite yet, and he squeezes your hand, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles before following Utahime. You watch him enter the building. He turns around and waves through the glass doors and you laugh to yourself, waving back.

It’s when he fully disappears that Sukuna speaks, and it nearly makes you jump.

He blows a trail to the sky, and says, “So, you and Getou-san seem pretty close.”

“We’re dating. I’d hope we were close,” you retort, looking to watch the smoke disappear. The weather’s mostly clear, a darker clouds dotting the sky. Sukuna inhales deeply, and you look over at him to see if he’s taking another hit, but he isn’t. “You don’t have to stay with me. Class doesn’t start for a while.”

“I don’t really have anywhere to be. I cleared my schedule.”

“For me?” You intend for it to come out sarcastic, but Sukuna nods seriously. You scoff, heading for the nearby bench. “I was joking.”

“It’s been a long time, and I wanted to get to know you again.” You sit down, and he sits at the end of the bench, leaning forward onto his knees. The distance between them is a canyon. “Now that we’re in the same place, I thought… maybe there was a chance we could go back to being friends like when we were kids.”

Your hands in your lap tighten into fists. “Sukuna, I…”

“I know it’s my fault we grew apart. A lot of things happened between us,” he acknowledges deliberately, slowly, “but we were kids. And we’re grown ups now, and it would be nice for us to be friends again.”

You shake your head. “It’s a bad idea.”

“It can’t be this bad that you even refuse to look at me.”

“No, it can be. I can’t be friends with you. This was nothing but a courtesy between whatever used to be between us,” you tell him flatly. His eyebrows knit together and you clench your fists tighter, trying not to recall the days after where you had laid in bed, listless and afraid for your body. “I don’t understand how you could even suggest that. Did you really have no idea how much you hurt me? Did you even stop to… did you even care half as much as I did about what happened that night?”

“Of course I did, but…” A restrained groan. “You don’t know how many nights I spent replaying that day over and over, knowing it was a mistake, and hating myself for ever hurting you.”

“Maybe it was a mistake to you, but it happened, and all you ever did was run away from it when I just wanted to… to know why.” You glare at him and hope it is as scalding as you want it to be. “I liked you. I had feelings for you, and you just stepped all over them like it was nothing. It may have been years ago but to me, it still… everything inside me still hurts. I feel so ugly all the time because of you.”

At least he has the grace to sound genuinely remorseful and look you in the eye. Too bad you can’t stomach it. You wrench your stare into your lap. “I’m sorry. If I knew about your feelings, I would’ve never done that.”

Your legs go numb.

Your knees feel weak and useless, just bone weights inside your flesh. You don’t think you can stand, despite how much you want to run.

You can only speak. “You didn’t… know…?”

Sukuna’s eyes do not meet yours. He stares at a distant point in the pavement. “Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted. If I’d known, I’d have been more careful and clear with my intentions, or stopped myself. I thought both of us knew what we were doing, but I was wrong. I normally have good judgement, you know that, but when it came to you, everything felt more uncertain. One thing led to another, and it kept going until I couldn’t stop. I made a mistake, you had no part in it, and—“

“Stop calling it that!” You snap your gaze to his, and his eyes narrow at your outburst, but you don’t care about his judgement anymore. Not at this moment. You hope never again. “How can you keep calling it that? It wasn’t a mistake to me. I thought… I thought you actually had feelings for me, but you just used me.” Shooting to your feet, you turn your face away just in case you start crying and Sukuna gets to his feet slower, his fingers reaching for your wrist. You yank yourself away from him, whipping around and stumbling back, clutching your hand to your chest.

“That’s not what happened.”

“Tell me then. Tell me what happened, because you broke my heart, Sukuna! You tore down everything I ever believed in and washed your hands of it. Of me.” You clutch onto the front of your shirt where your heart feels like it’s spilling out blood between your fingers and step closer to him, teeth gnashing together. “All my friends want me to hate you, you know? And you deserve it, but I can’t. You’re doing so well for yourself, and you seem like you’ve grown a lot, and you’ve always been smart and you have everything you ever wanted, so I should hate you. I’m still stuck here, pitying myself for ever falling for you but I just can’t hate you because I have this stupid hope that maybe something happened, that it wasn’t me, and that maybe you could’ve loved me, too. After all these years, if you’d come even two months earlier, I would’ve given you another chance, and you make me feel stupid! So tell me! Tell me what I did wrong that night!”

“Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Your throat swells shut in pain, and your eyes burn as you grit your teeth. “A part of me just knew that if I went to find you, I wouldn’t have been able to let you go,” he murmurs in a way that feels less like a confession and more like a poison. Cold water dumps over you, and your eyes widen as he sighs, resting his hands on your shoulders. The first drop of rain lands on your nose, and you blink, letting out a confused, mumbled huh, and shrinking back away from him. Suddenly, you feel so small. “You’re too good for me, you know. Look at you. You can’t even hate me.”

The rain comes harder and harder until it begins to mist, and you squint against it as something burns down your face. Your clothes begin to slick against your skin. “Sukuna…”

“You’re an idiot with a big heart,” he points out, smiling at the tears racing down your face and lifting a hand to brush them away. Your face is hot with shame. How can he tell you’re crying? Are you not as unreadable as you want to be? He’s the reason you tried to be like this, and you’re still failing. “My annoying crybaby. I didn’t want to care about you, but you just… kept trying and trying, and how could I help myself?” His tone strains with something older, something born before you ever knew him. It sounds like he’s in agony, but trying to stifle it, and it punches you in the gut. “You know what I learned on that drive home after everything we did together? That I’d ruin you.”

“I could’ve fixed you. I would’ve helped,” you whisper, voice trembling, and he chuckles, the sound cold and warm both. “Why didn’t you let me?”

“Because you can’t fix people, (Name). You can try, but you just can’t. I didn’t want your help back then. I knew what you wanted, and I couldn’t be that.” He brushes his hair back, and it’s so rain-slick the droplets that cling to his hand fall back onto you when he cups your face in his hands. “You couldn’t have fixed me. I didn’t want to be fixed, and the only good thing I could do was leave you alone.” At this, regret flickers over his face like a passing shadow, but it’s gone before you can be too sure, and he glances at the doors of the building. Sukuna chews on his cheek for a moment before finding your face again. “You’re a good person, with a good boyfriend who cares about you. I’m not here to spout shit about how I want you. Any sane motherfucker would want you.”

“You didn’t.”

He takes in your face with that intense stare that used to light a fire in you, and perhaps you imagine the way his eyes glance at your lips, but he only steps back, lets his hands fall away. Your eyes fall to the pavement, and you grimace against the tears that pour down your cheeks.

Sukuna’s breath had smelled like strawberries.

He sounds very far away. “Yes, I did. And I’m fucking insane.”

“No, you’re not.” His eyes brand you where they touch your cheek, but you won’t look up. “You were good to me. Why else do you think I liked you?”

“I don’t know. Still think you’re crazy for that,” he laughs bitterly. “Either way, (Name), I’m here to stay. It’s up to you to do with that what you wish.”

“And if I want you to leave me alone? If I want us to be strangers, and we never speak again,” you demand shakily. “I do have a good boyfriend, and he takes priority over everything—anything—we might have between us.”

“Then… I’ll leave you alone.” It sounds so simple that way, but when you look at him, it is not raining anymore. They are standing in their high school uniforms, and it is sunny, and he is grinning ear-to-ear, and you are smiling, too.

Oh, how you loved him, and how a part of you wants to love him again. This infernal boy, and the years of your youth spent imagining your life with him.

Sukuna stands there, a broken image. Had he always been made of shards of glass so sharp you can feel each point digging into your lungs? Can you only see it now because of the cuts he’s inflicted on you that still ache in the rain? You want to reach out for him, but your hand will bleed. You know it will. So why does he still look like a piece you can fit into your life puzzle? A stained glass mosaic that can only be whole as long as you’re the one with the welding stick?

There is something wrong with him, he knew that, but you wonder if Sukuna ever realized there must be something wrong with you, too, to have a part of you still want him.

He half-turns away, and then, as if remembering something, he stops, and he doesn’t look at you, but you hear him just as clearly anyway, over the pounding heart, the thundering rain. “I really did want you, (Name). I just didn’t know how to love you the way you deserved to be.”

With that, for the second time in your life, Sukuna walks away.

“Hey, you good?” Mei Mei asks as she sits down next to you in class. You glance at her, and paste on a smile as convincingly as you can before nodding. You won’t admit that after he walked away from you, you had sat down on that bench and cried until you wouldn’t burst into tears in a classroom where someone you know could see.

“I just got caught in the rainstorm. That’s all.” Looking out the window, you try not to think about how you’re soaking wet from head to toe, how you should be shivering, but instead your stomach is in knots, and your neck is burning from where Sukuna’s fingers had held you. Your phone buzzes, you glance at your phone screen, and you hate how your heart twists when you see the name that’s waiting for you there.

When class ends, Suguru is already waiting outside, and you eye him warily, hoping your eyes aren’t swollen anymore. You hate the idea of him knowing you’ve cried.

“How are you here already?” you ask, confused. “Your class ends at the same time as mine.”

“I asked to leave a couple of minutes early,” he answers. The rest of your classmates file out behind you, and he takes your arm which is dry and warm, now, and guides you a little further down the hall. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t lie to me,” he urges. “I’m sorry I left you alone with him. It was on my mind during class, and I had to find you.” His tone is so apologetic, so hateful towards himself that you take his arms, rub his biceps but he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “You didn’t answer my texts. I don’t know what I was thinking leaving you there with him.”

“We just talked about the past and we’re… we got closure. I’m fine. I’m not mad at you, and I’m the one who told you to go, so please don’t feel bad about it,” you say, which isn’t an entire lie. He scans your face, and you cup the side of his neck, slanting your head to press a quick kiss against his mouth. His eyes flutter shut, and he chases after you for another reassuring kiss. His arm curves around your waist, and he’s so warm you can’t help but shuffle into his chest, let him bury you into his body. You rest your chin on his shoulder as he lifts you up a little, swinging you in his embrace.

When he finally sets you down, he settles his hands on your hips and sighs. “I pulled my car around and I can drive you back to your place, if you’d like?” he asks, and you nod, taking hold of his wrists and stepping away. He interlocks their fingers. “I’ll buy you dinner later, too, and bubble tea.”

“You don’t have to—“

“No arguments, baby,” he says, “not today.” Your eyes soften, and you take in his glare, the way his jaw muscle keeps twitching. “I hate that I left you with him.”

“Stop it, I’m happy that you’re with me, and that’s all that matters. You’re a good boyfriend, who didn’t have to go through with all this shit today.” Squeezing his hands, you step closer and loop your arms around his neck. His lips barely brush against yours as you whisper, ‘Thank you.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he breathes, eyelashes dusting his cheeks as he closes his eyes, breathing you in. His palms rest on your hips, and his fingers dig in gently. “I really like you, (Name). I…”

Your heart is a stone in a river. Each current seeps into the cracks of it like silk, smooths the jagged edges, like a cool tide has soothed a burn that long has consumed your body, and you relax against him, fitting your mouth to his. He immediately raises a hand to cup the back of your head, and your eyes close, letting him use his other arm snaking around your waist to turn you around and gently guide you back until your heel hits the wall. Your shoulders follow suit, and his hand at the back of your head cushions your skull against the concrete wall. His entire body presses against yours, so lean and hot against your own you can feel his body heat bleed into your clothes.

You let out a sharp gasp. He pulls back immediately, his gaze full of worry. “Are you okay? Is this okay?”

And for some reason, your day, which has been fraught with nerves, exhaustion, and stress, feels like it’s all been leading to this moment where Suguru has you against the wall, your thoughts quiet and docile, your entire world for once not on guard or ready to attack.

You look at Suguru. He’s so beautiful. So beautiful it nearly hurts to look at him.

“I like you, too, idiot,” you mumble, grabbing the front of his hoodie, and yanking him into your mouth. He lets out a surprised noise but it disappears as he catches himself, his free hand by your ear, planted flat against the wall. Breathless and dizzy, you hungrily feast on his lips, and he gasps into your tongue before slipping his own tongue into your mouth.

Your stomach shivers and clenches, and he tears himself away, panting. Your body yearns for more, and your hands fall to his waist, fistfuls of hoodie twisting in your grasp as he assuages you with one last kiss, and then another, before pulling back.

“You okay?” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your nose. Your eyes fall to rest on his plump pink mouth as you keep his hips close. He moves the hand on the wall to your jaw, and he tilts your head up, dark eyes searching yours curiously. You feel like you’re not quite attached to your body, in some sedated far off land, but it’s a good kind of empty. “If that was your way of lifting my mood, it worked.”

“Partly,” you admit. “I like kissing you, too, so it was an added bonus.”

He chuckles. “Good. I like kissing you, too.”

Suguru kisses the corner of your mouth, and you smile, but it falls away a moment later as you look down at his body, so poised and not moving an inch under your control. You can feel his lungs expanding against your knuckles, the way his abdomen clenches and releases. He’s caging you in against the wall, but there’s not a moment where you can’t slip past him and leave.

What is the word for when an animal is willingly trapped in a cage? Is it domestication, or something far more unexplainable than that?

Suguru’s eyes watch your every movement, and his voice is unbearably tender as he asks after a moment of silence, “Are you alright?”

“I think kissing you was for me, too,” you admit at length, looking back up at him. His eyebrows twitch together in silent questioning. You sigh. “Seeing him doing so well hurts so much. He knows exactly who he is, whether or not he likes it, and I’m still here, feeling like that kid from highschool who doesn’t know what she’s doing. Why can’t I do anything with this feeling?”

“I don’t know, baby.” His thumb strokes your cheekbone. Suguru draws back to give you room, and you step away from the wall. Your hand interlaces with his, and you hold his wrist with your free hand, keeping close as possible to him.

His grip pulses gently as they begin to walk out of the building. Their steps fall into time against the linoleum floors, and your head feels strangely quiet, but not empty anymore, in his presence. All your swirling thoughts, all the trains of what had just happened, the memories replaying over and over like a broken recorder—it all comes to molasses speed.

You feel exhausted.

“When Riko died, I don’t think I was alive for a good year,” he says suddenly as they descend down the steps. Suguru’s one stair in front, holding on as if he’s afraid you’ll fall while he’s ready to catch you. “I didn’t really know what I was doing during that time. The teachers were only understanding because I was a top student, and now, I couldn’t even bother to show up to class, but I was also there on scholarship and scouting, so I had to eventually go back if I wanted to keep going to school there at all. Two weeks after the fire, I started going to class again, but I can’t really recall a single thing they taught me.”

You’re silent as you walk after him, and as they reach the landing, you snake your free arm around his, walking beside him again.

“I’m still trying to figure out who I am, and whether or not that’s something worth becoming, y’know. Five years doesn’t mean shit because I don’t remember half of it,” he continues. “I smoke, and don’t know if I’ll make it to thirty, and who the fuck knows what’ll happen tomorrow.” He shrugs and your eyes flit to his side profile. He stares ahead, relaxed, a relaxed smile on his face. “But… I’ve got good friends, two little sisters to spoil, a girlfriend I love being around.” His head lolls to meet your gaze, and his smile grows. Your cheeks begin to heat up. “If I don’t know if I wanna be alive, they can help.”

Your heart drops. “Suguru.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not suicidal or anything.” He smiles. “My point is, you don’t need to know anything for sure, by the way. We’re young. ’S long as you let me hang around, I’ll help you, baby. I promise.”

And for a second, it’s there.

Three fleeting words that tumble out of your throat, onto your tongue, and lie there so tauntingly. All you’d need to do is breathe life, and look Suguru in the eye, and tell him something you want to say. The impulse lives and breathes like pure fire, a giant crashing swell that overflows inside of you. The overwhelming sensation feels like it’s surrounding everything, every action you make as their arms swing a little, and he fishes an umbrella out of his bag with one hand, and oh… what other word could it be but love?

Or your own fictionalized idea of love. Who are you to know what love is? Maybe you don’t even know what the feeling you crave actually is. Love is a sweet poison, Sukuna taught you that, so why do you feel so full and warm, like you’d never starve in winter again?

You bite your tongue and look away, ignoring how your heart is aching so deeply you feel it in your gut. Oh, this love hurts, too. You think your world is crumbling beneath your feet as you rasp out, “Thank you, Suguru.”

“Of course, baby.” His index finger curls underneath your chin and a soft, gooey kiss guides your body. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, press your tongue against his own gentle one, and he kisses your tongue, your bottom lip, every inch of your mouth he can taste in a slow dance. It feels intimate, weirdly vulnerable, as if you’re standing naked in front of the whole school, but when Suguru pulls away, eyes cloudy and he lets out a breath that puffs against your skin, you don’t feel cold.

You swallow, lips parting as you try to wrap your head around the amount of times he’s kissed you in a span of twenty minutes, but he only smiles.

Tearing his eyes away and wrapping an around you, he kisses your temple, and doesn’t move to touch you further. You can’t help but sneak your own arm around his waist, rubbing your head against his shoulder.

“What do you wanna eat for dinner?” you ask, looking up at him. He pushes open the door to reveal the downpour that nearly overwhelms your voice, but he extends the umbrella, tucking you in close to him and stepping out into the misting torrent.

“I wanna take a nap first,” he admits, “so I’ll be out of commission for a bit. You can do homework until you’re hungry and just wake me up.”

“A nap sounds nice after today,” you sigh. “I just changed my sheets, if you… wanna sleep on my bed with me.” He blinks, and you fight the heat crawling up your face, stubbornly looking at the sidewalk to check you’re not stepping ankle deep into a puddle. “Well, I’m just saying. You always fall asleep on the couch, so…”

“Are you sure? It’s not too soon? Or… I, uhm—”

“Take advantage of it before I change my mind, dummy,” you retort, and he wrangles you even closer, his arm curling around your neck so he can make a teasing kissy noise, cheek to cheek. You make a face, pushing him away and walking into the rain, speeding up your pace. He laughs, chasing after you with his hand outstretched, and you hear his sneakers splat against the pavement as you turn around.

You’re getting soaked, but your smile grows as you grab his hand and yank him so he can shield you from the rain again.

And this time, when he ducks close to your face, he kisses you properly.

The door cracks open, and Maki lets out a relieved breath. Finally. Home and sweet relief after an entire day of nonstop everything.

“(Name), I’m back!” she calls as soon as she enters their apartment. Shuffling her sneakers off in the genkan, she nudges them against the wall so they can have some semblance of organization in their place, but frowns when a pair of black runners that definitely don’t belong to her or her roommate take up a big space. She wrinkles her nose, scowling, but she can’t do anything about it now. You had texted earlier that your boyfriend would be coming over, but that’d been almost six hours ago.

She stuffs her feet into her slippers and sighs, tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter and dumping her gym bag on one of the stools. Judo practice had been long and brutal, and she definitely needed a cold shower. Texting Yuuta that she made it back home, she sheds every layer of clothes she can, stripping down to her gym shorts and sports bra to cool down as she begins to walk around the kitchen to put her dirty containers from the day in the sink.

You still have to tell her how the whole Sukuna thing went down, although Maki isn’t sure if she has the mental capacity to deal with it right now. Opening the fridge, she pours herself a glass of water before walking into the hall to see what you’re up to. If Suguru’s over, it usually means you’re both in the living room, but seeing as the entire place is dark, Maki has a strange curdling sensation that migrates up her spine.

A memory haunts her still. Of someone showing up at her house, her fucking house of all places, with a tear-stained face, and dark purple under-eyes, and she hopes to whatever god exists, maybe even a little selfishly, that what she finds won’t be what her brain is already imagining.

The room to your door isn’t closed completely, and she tentatively pushes the door open wider to see your blinds wide open, allowing moonlight and a tiny bit of streetlight to come through, illuminating a forgotten laptop resting at the foot of your bed. The blankets are twisted and her eyes trail up the bed to see two figures entwined tightly. An outline of an arm, strands of hair gleaming silver.

It’s an image that unexpectedly makes Maki’s heart crack, and she bows her head as a soft groan echoes in the room. Gaze snapping back up, she sees one of them shifting and they lift their head lethargically. She’s about to duck out when they reach a long, limber arm to turn on the bedside lamp.

“Maki?” a deeper, hoarse voice calls, and she freezes, eyes darting to a face curtained by messy black hair. Suguru’s squinting against the light, and he clearly’s just woken up (which is probably her fault, but Maki doesn’t entertain the thought). His arm’s trapped under a sleeping you who doesn’t seem to move, but he has you contained in an embrace against his chest. Your face is pressed against the front of his hoodie, and Maki has half a mind to ask how you’re even breathing, but she finds the joking words don’t come out.

“How is she?” she asks in low tones instead. “That meeting. What are your thoughts on him?”

“I’ve a lot to say,” admits your boyfriend. “But, she handled it really well, so I’m keeping it mostly internal.” He leans back down on the pillow, eyes at half-mast. “Sorry. If you want me to go, I can.”

“It’s fine. I don’t have that permission to do that,” she says. “And you’re not doing anything immediately irritating to my being, so…”

“Thanks.” His face scrunches up. “Did you need anything?”

“Did you eat dinner, yet?”

“No. What time is it?”

“It’s nearly a quarter past eleven.”

“Shit,” he groans. He tosses his free arm over his eyes before reaching for his phone at the nightstand, and swiping it on. “Can I get something delivered here?”

“Yeah, fine.” She takes a sip of water, and as he scrolls the phone, the words she’s wanted to say since they’ve started dating begin to bubble. Maki avoids having one-on-one time with anyone who isn’t someone from her friend group, and standing in a room with Getou Suguru is not her ideal way of spending her evening, but… she needs to say this. She might not ever feel like there’s nothing to lose when she says this ever again.

“I had a lot of doubts about you,” she confesses suddenly. Suguru’s eyes, chips of charcoal, find hers again, “because of Sukuna. I hope now that you’ve met him, you understand why every one of us didn’t like the idea of you dating her at one point or another. A part of me still doesn’t because everything you do is too perfect for my liking.”

“I’m sorry?” He frowns and sets his phone back on the bedside table. “I know she’s your best friend—“

“She’s my sister.” Her grip on her glass tightens, the condensation seeping between her skin and the cup. “That’s why if you pull something like Sukuna did, if you do anything to hurt her, I’ll be the first one to know. And you’ll know I know, because you’ll wake up one day with two broken legs, and you’ll never dance again.”

His eyebrows rise infinitesimally, but after a while, he only lets out a soft breath and an accepting smile, and Maki has the premonition of dread that comes when she’s too far out of her depth. She wants to question that look, the way his eyes don’t glimmer with fear, or even any sort of defiance, only a mellowness that comes from death. Leaning in that slant of silver light, Getou Suguru looks like a ghoul, haunting and not quite alive.

But then, he moves like a human, and sinks back into the pillows, turns his back on her, wrapping you in tightly in a full hug again as he speaks, “Good. I’ll deserve it.”

Maki’s stomach chills, and she closes the door behind her.

When she wakes up the next morning to you and him in the kitchen together, she watches as Suguru packs his bag, and scrambles eggs, and butters slices of bread for you to toast. And although she’s never noticed it before, there’s a certain dimness, a fading light in Getou’s eyes that only returns whenever he happens to glance at you.

a/n: thank you for reading! leave a comment/rb and let me know your thoughts. catch ya on the flip side

tags: @thelameless @lucyrocks86 @kentospet @id-rather-be-an-outsider @ys2800 @tuzuis4thwife @pidwidge @xbookmanx @kaitlyn2907 @butterfly-skinnylegend @rumi-rants @bloombb @mykyoon @waterlily502 @hanabihwa @drunkenlion

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bentosandbox · 1 year

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More sporadic Lone Trail ramblings/TLs

prev one here this time more about the saria/kirsten/mumu trio and fanservice and the CGs in general spoiler warning etc etc

(From 4-END) Silence asks Saria if she's incapable of standing against Rhine Lab because deep inside she's the same as them and when she finally answers she's like

......I'm sorry, Silence. I did think about it thoroughly, but I can't give you a definitive answer. If Kirsten's experiment does touch a law that should not have been, then I will stop her, just like all the mistakes Rhine Lab has committed over the years-- they ought to be corrected, for I have always believed, the more power one holds, the less they should act recklessly. But if I were to go back in time, to the moment where Kirsten and I first met, when everything had yet to transpire...I would not have stopped her then, nor the birth of Rhine Lab. Yes, even if I knew that Rhine Lab would create this many Catastrophes, even if I could have predicted that Kirsten, Parvis and Ferdinand would eventually grow out of control-- I would still have stood together with them as I did.

(From 5-END) Mumu:

Did you know? Back then, Saria and I even picked out Kirsten's clothes. Yup, Saria cares about fashion more than she does! (Control truly only has 1[or 2 lol] things in her brain)

Yara (HR and the one responsible for Silence2's outfit) is basically kind of a parent figure to Kirsten 🥹 (so I guess they're a parallel to Silence and Iffy...)

uhm what else. the 3 of them used to go stargazing together and in a flashback mumu picks up a (shiny) rock

Mumu: Kirsten, see that rock on the ground? What does it look like? Kirsten: ...... Mumu: It's like Saria, right? It's so hard(like, firm) and yet it shines so 'perfectly'! Kirsten: ...Like the stars.

idk how global is going to do this part but in CN (and in JP?) Rhine Lab is literally 'Rhine Life' and mumu asks if Kirsten really wants to name it that instead of something like 'Rhine Physics' since she 'just wants to fly to the sky' and she says no, RL is good, because

I want to know what exactly are the stars we see. I want to know what lies beyond the barrier wrapping around us. I want to know...to see just what kind of land do we live in, if I can really take a look while standing among the stars.......Most of the answers I want are about 'us'.

oh one last one quote out of context for you fic writers Saria (to mumu): You're the same as always. The moment you get a little nervous, you forget just how frail your body is.

Love the idea of mumu being doc's bestie/oomfie but her and hol's lines/whatever else have irreparably damaged the AK ecosystem fr tbqhwyf and i thought skadol was bad lol. Now we'll have triple the NTR jokes great amazing wonderful (i launch myself into space)

'But its rationalized they're all the last of their kind!!!!' Justification doesn't fucking matter the damage has been done to their (perceived) characters i want my insane morally fucked up scientists not some generic lonely gf that steals the mc from other girls or some harem bullshit forgot what the term was and i dont want to know

Imagine getting a generic ass cg of 'pov mumu is so sad and helpless and needs your help to rescue her!!' (this happens after and not getting one for the extremely kino saria and mumu fight where you find out more about just how inter-connected the 3 of them were (are…?) and saria is first overwhelmed by all the water and she remarks how shes has never seen water(from mm) this turbulent before but within the waves she cant find the elf and all she finds is are sad eyes and tears…I can only feel pity for Mumu fans who don't give a damn about shipping themselves for her. speaking of CGs...

AK is clearly inspired and references a lot of IRL media and it shows with their graphic design work (UI, motion graphics etc) here's a link to a Lone Trail analysis but....for some reason the story CGs are quite bereft of the same energy (dare i say passion even lol) imo

ofc CGs are to immerse you in the story etc etc and they're really pretty but

how immersive is a fucking practically copypasted photobashed kirsten (the CG is very beautiful otherwise I love aZling4's rendering style sm.. probably my second favourite CG after the depressing 2nd lobby one you get post-ST4 where......shes also in the same pose.........motherfuckers)

Like man could you not have posed him any other way than hand in pocket with average cosplayer photoshoot lighting

this CG of hol almost getting rekt by saria is pretty weak imo that grip is non-existent nothing much to say (atm) about hol but that i love fanart where she looks/acts like a freak instead of (90% of fanart)

saria literally just fell from almost space back to earth and she looks almost unscathed lol mumu's water can't possibly be that rejuvenating

Maybe it's meant to be kind of incomprehensible but uh when the story went tonight the truth is finally glimpsed by humans for the first time or something I was like ....what is even happening in this picture lol

idk like doing partitioned CGs like how limbus does it would be so good tbh sometimes all they just show is a face and its like ? all that space? I'm guessing the artists have to do the concept/compositions themselves and some just have fresher ideas than others or time constraints etc basically i would just love to see CGs that are references to kino movie shots or something, they love movies so much right??? what about some good cinematography????

Dont want to sound like im flexing my useless veterans card or whatever but like. im a day 0 fan, i played their OBT, i started my acc on day 1, i remember being so excited about this game being so different from the other mobages, i didn't like how GFL was becoming way way more fanservicey then so AK was like a literal noah's ark with a whole bunch of artists ive revered from my touhou days, and now seeing it (inevitably!) slide towards GFL and the average mobage has me like 'well im glad limbus exists they let their women wear pants and be irredeemably insane(looking at you talulah 🥲)'

regardless of all that complaining this might beat italiano perros for favourite event because i was one of those kids with a space phase and something about the trio's dynamic.... (brain chugging) something about water unable to move unshakeable earth (but it can soften though...) that in turn can never reach the sky you know you know just like how a tiger can never be on the same level as a dragon 'real' animal vs mythical

#arknights #bentotexto #Lone Trail

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trigunwritings · 1 year

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So I have some THOUGHTS about episode 9 now that I finally was able to watch it, so I’m gonna ramble on about them below the readmore

- The brief flashback to Knives and Vash playing the piano together was interesting, not only in that it means both of them are fairly talented on the instrument, but also because it means the song that Knives has been playing in the times we’ve seen him has been only one-half of the full thing perhaps? I’m sure there’s something quite symbolic about it and how it pertains to the brothers being so interconnected, so I wonder how that might show up later 🤔

- Though I would have preferred to get some more depth to Knives via the scenes with Tesla (since that both showcases the stark difference between their viewpoints and establishes a really good reason for Knives to fear/hate humans so much) I did like that we got to see a direct act that shows the audience just how little the common population thinks of plants as anything more than tools

- “We’ve hit the production limit. They put too great a load on the plants, it cut them off from the higher dimension. They can’t maintain their bodies.” <- I have no clue what the hell that’s supposed to mean but, as the person becoming known in this fandom as the feral plant headcanon-er, I am VERY interested to see if they’ll ever elaborate on that since the manga/first anime never did. *shakes the Stampede series* LET ME KNOW THE SECRETS OF THE INTER-DIMENSIONAL ALIENS

- The ‘Last Run’ scene in general was fairly disturbing, but I know that was the point in order to hit home how Knives so far has interacted with humans (the mental pain had to be horrible, given how bad the distress of a single plant had affected Vash)—but who was the man he was with? Was that supposed to be Conrad? Has Knives already started up his cult?

- Even though Knives totally murdered some dudes, he sure did look cool while doing it

- “Outside of human control, plants use up all their energy in one burst and die.” / “So you bought into that nonsense… No matter how comfortable, chains are still chains.” 🫣

- WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON WITH VASH’S ARM

- “Is that… a gate?” WILL SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN THAT AT SOME POINT THANK YOU

- I find it interesting how Vash losing his arm was not from the direct influence of Knives—either his Angel Arm doesn’t exist, or its a wildly different kind of power. Either way, Knives having to make a split-second decision to remove his brother’s arm in order to keep that ‘gate’ (looks like a black hole to me tbh) from swallowing up everything is a really neat twist on intention.

- I saw a post recently joking about Knives being utterly obsessed with his brother and I thought it was hyperbole. I SEE THAT IT IN FACT ISNT. Knives you are a lonely fucker I swear to god.

- Last episode I was so confused on the timeline and was worried that they had shortened the time between the flashbacks to the present day—and I’m super happy to be wrong! Putting Luida and Bradley in cryosleep in order to prolonged their lives was a very creative way to keep those characters interacting with Vash.

- Meryl being SO surprised and impressed by flowers really hit home that they straight up DON’T exist on Noman’s Land…. which, jesus, that was a surprise. I assumed at best sickly little potted plants might have existed, but none? Very interesting…

- Roberto being pessimistic is really hitting home that I know he’s going to die soon and will likely be replaced with Milly in the following seasons. I really enjoy the way his character pairs with Meryl’s energy and positive realism 😭

- Ngl Zazie the Beast is lightly growing on me, mostly as a neat antagonist since they represent the native species on Noman’s Land before anyone else arrived. Wonder if their alliance will alter at any point…

- “Outside of human control, plants use up all their energy in one burst and die.” / “So you bought into that nonsense… No matter how comfortable, chains are still chains.” 🫣

- Totally thought Luida was going to die either by Vash (accidentally) or Knives (purposefully).

#trigun #trigun stampede #notwriting #trigun spoilers #trigun stampede spoilers #stampede spoilers #stampede saturday #spoilers #ep 9 spoilers

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crzyimp · 6 months

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Finally! Enough time to breath and be unhinged over this book! A lot has happened but hopefully I'm back and being consistent now. I'll throw my thoughts on chapters(some more than others) I missed up to the latest!

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

Chapter 11, Burocracy! (the horror)

Emperor Taizong goes to the underworld to explain his case against the 10 kings after promising to save the old dragon but failed too. Promises or giving your word was(and I think still is) a big deal. It's tied to how committed, trustworthy, and reliable you are. It's the intent you give to the other and the strong meaning behind. In some cultures, you can be cursed to a terrible fate if you break it. So Taizong explains his side of the story and the king agreed he tried his humanly best and not in trouble. Which instead of a meeting, this could've been discussed over a letter. The kings tell him he has 13 years left to live, I rather I didn't know but that's just me, and he thanks them. He tours the underworld to see the inter workings and all the men he sent to death or killed. Taizong given a chance to start changing his ways and to save the lost souls who passed before returning to the living. Once the Emperor returns, he makes changes post haste by allowing concubines free and marrying officials, allowing those on death row to visit family and tie up loose ends for one year before their death, and giving offerings to the lost souls so they can pass on. Then he sends Liu Quan to posion himself to offer melons as thanks to the 10 kings.

Chapter 12:

You can't convince me that Liu Quan and the emperor’s sister didn't have something going on. I find it a little to convenient that his wife gets to have the sister's body. Either there was affair or something shady. Anyways, the emperor goes about giving thanks to those who helped him in the living, which leads up to Buddhism being popularize and temples in his name. And our good boy Xuanzang, Child River Float, the man who has many names/titles just like Sun Wukong. He's giving another name, Tripitaka, things and people to help him out his journey to the west.

Chapter 13:

Tripitaka gets kidnapped and watch his men and possibly friends devoured in front of him. The gods are on his side and saves him(literally) from being eaten himself and escapes. He's still in the Tang region and encounters a nice country man who gives him shelter, food, and a guide out of the territory.

Chapter 14:

Wukong back! And Tripitaka frees him out of the mountain after learning who and what Wukong's crimes are. Tripitaka trust him enough since old monkey didn't lie, HOWEVER!, Wukong the sneaky shit didn't mention how he pissed on Buddha's hand. The monk may have pardoned him not knowing that, but I'll always remember his piss crimes(never forget never forgiven!). After Wukong freed and given +1 tiger skin, the dou are actually pretty sweet and nice to each other. Though it might be the high for Wukong being free again and Tripitaka feeling safe against worldly and otherworldly threats. That all changes one winter day when six bandits attack and Wukong murked them. Then the two argued over it and Wukong leaves. Thankfully not mad enough to make the monk into a meat patty, but I could argue and say Wukong got some time to get to know Tripitaka. The two been traveling more than a few days, enough time to start getting to know each other better and forming a bond. So! With that in mind, Wukong goes back to his mountain but makes a pit stop at the dragon palace(maybe a subtle I'm back) for tea. The old kings catch up and the dragon king reminds Wukong he's been given another chance to be a true immortal and on the path of good. Now pre havoc Wukong wouldn't gives two shits and leaves without a second thought, post havoc Wukong however...does care (a little) and decides to go back. Finally putting his all into this journey, even telling a unhappy Guanyin he's going back. He joins up with Tripitaka.....and gets tricked into wearing the headband. Now don't be mad at our monk cause when he stops Wukong does tries to kill him AND left him defenseless and alone. So the two learn some new things about each other and themselves.

Chapter 15:

Lost a horse and gain a dragon horse after the dragon horse ate the other horse. The boys couldn't do much so they called Guanyin, or Wukong convinced them after some talking.

Chapter 16, 17, and 18

(go a head and steal the meme. Share it with your friends and the world)

Running theme or joke that Wukong needs Guanyin help to take care of the problems in the way. Especially in chapter 16 after burning down a monastery and having a rather beautiful cassock stolen. But hey! Guanyin gets a free bear to guard her place.

Now for chapter 18! Everyone favorite idiot, Zhu Bajie!

I like the fact the family might have been cool with Bajie if wasn't eating them out of their homes, letting them see their daughter, actually taking care of her(poor girl was so sickly when freed!), and ya know being upfront with what he is and not lying to them. If he was upfront about who he is and showed he's trustworthy then maybe he could've gotten a wife. (I can see a retelling like this, beauty and the beast ess) But know idiot being idiot didn't do any of that and now got a terrifying monkey on his back. Well until Guanyin shows up while he was hiding from Wukong(that is a horror in of itself). Another party member! Whoo! Still no meat for you Bajie. Be bitchless and get bald like the rest of us. (Not me though, I'm just here for the ride like the dragon horse)

#journey to the west #sun wukong #jttw #xiyouji #zhu bajie #tripitaka #jttw book club #jttw bai longma #so much has happened since i last wrote for the book club #sadly I cant write more as life is dragging me away!#Though I'll say i finally wrote that horror story on Zhu Bajie a while back. I didnt like the ending so much so eventually ill rewrite it

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ntoraplayschoices · 6 months

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Well! I finally finished that Valax fanfic I was writing. YAY!

Did my interes t in Valax start as a bit of a joke? Yes. Kind of. A little. No.

Is it a joke anymore? You guess. (Nah )

The idea actually was inspired by a tiktok from @/book0bsessedd !

Here it is on ao3. (Not the tiktok, just my fanfic. That wasn' t so funny sorry )

Remember to drink some water, have some food and stay safe and well! <3

Thank you so much for indulging me and my little fanfic ! Hope you enjoy!

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It was another one of those nights they had lately. Tired -in every possible way- but restless once they finally laid their body on some makeshift bed or the cold, hard ground. So, instead of tossing and turning (and listening to their friends’ sleepy mumbles and snoring) they decided to head up this relatively low cliff above them.

Traveling like this had some perks despite the stressful situation they were in. It was a wonderful opportunity to explore parts of the world they hadn’t seen yet- well, that was most parts of the world but still.

They sat at the edge, their legs hanging and moving back and forth lazily. Their bored, almost pouty expression, switched to a huge amused grin as their eyes widened and their back straightened when they looked up to confirm- yes!

Huge, bright and beautiful lines ripped the night sky. They let out a soft, excited giggle. It has been years since they have seen a meteor shower. The last one was when Kade and they were but young kids, barely the age of ten. Their expression turned wistful and bittersweet.

Kade. Sweet, sweet Kade.

What was he up to? Did he think of them as much as they thought about him? Did he miss them as much, too?

Memories flooded their head- memories of Kade and them as kids, getting up to all sorts of trouble. Them as teenagers and adults- doing exactly the same.

They smiled, and it was one of the rare genuinely carefree smiles they had since they returned from the shadow realm.

They focused on the constellations Kade made out for them when they were kids, laughing softly at the names he chose and the memories themselves. They could remember Kade oh-so-seriously explaining the made-up constellations and themselves nodding along seriously.

They grinned amused when another meteor ripped across the sky.

They were so amused by the meteors that they didn’t even hear the - familiar by now- portal being opened behind them- the literal rip of reality wasn’t enough to get their attention (!) and Valax, face hardened and glaive in one hand, throbbing shadow magic in the other, stared at their unmoving form confused, eyes blinking.

As she was about to make her presence known, she noticed their expression- grinning and awed, light reflecting in their eyes. Her expression softened slightly mirroring Raine as she looked at theirs and she scolded herself for it, quickly hardening her features once more.

She followed their gaze and her own lips parted in surprise, eyes big as she took in the sight. The shadow magic disappeared from her hand and her other arm relaxed, the large glaive hanging loosely from it, grazing the ground for a moment. Awe-struck, looking up at the sky, she forgot all about the hunt and Raine’s blood and whatever other nonsense she was thinking besides the flashes of light across the sky.

“What is that?” she mumbled softly, her deep voice carried by the soothing breeze. Raine’s expression shifted to one of horror as they glanced over their shoulder, clumsily reading their weapon.

They cussed at themselves quietly for not realising she was there sooner.

Valax barely spared a glance at them, raising a hand to stop them before pointing at the night sky, her black and long nail looking too much like a claw. Raine gulped.

“I-It’s a meteor shower,” they replied, their voice slightly shaky. Despite the fact their friends were close, they were alone out here with her and she was obviously not here to chat.

They glanced down at their friends’ sleeping forms, their voice caught in their throat.

Valax, as if in a trance, moved closer to the edge of the cliff, her eyes only looking up. At some point, Raine even thought she’d fall off, but she just sat at the edge- keeping a relatively big distance from them. They thought that was for the best.

Their shoulders tensed and they gripped their weapon just in case.

Memories of their past encounters flashed in their mind, memories of Valax picking them up by their throat and squeezing, or tearing their arm to get their blood with no sympathy whatsoever.

They glanced down, the skin of their lower arm bruised and they winced at the painful memory.

Valax’s voice snapped them out of their thoughts.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she confessed, voice softer than Raine had ever heard it.

They glanced at the night sky, smiling faintly at the sight, before looking back at her.

“You don’t have anything similar in the Shadow Realm ?” They asked, despite already knowing what her answer would be. It was weird, asking her questions like this, their life not being threatened.

She scoffed, resentment sneaking into her voice.

“No. Just storms. Nothing like this.”

Raine hummed and tore their eyes away from her form, now looking at their swinging legs. Below them, Raine’s friends, sleeping, peaceful and unaware.

They felt a pang of something in their body- hurt? Ache? Anger? They didn’t know. They didn’t even know what for.

They sighed, glancing at Valax again. She had lowered her guard, at least a bit. Maybe this was their opportunity to finally get some answers.

“Why do you want to conquer the Light Realm anyway? I mean… Look at this-” They gestured softly at the sky. They knew trying to change her mind was not possible- and they weren’t trying to. They just wanted to understand her better.

“Why ruin it? You seem to like it.”

Valax’s expression turned into a scowl, her eyes turning to them. Her look made them shiver softly. It could have been the wind, but they were certain it wasn’t.

“I told you. My mother, the Empress, wants to reclaim it. What is so complicated about that? Besides, nothing will happen to the sky or your realm’s natural habitat.”

Raine raised their hands slightly, as if in some sort of surrender.

“Sorry, sorry. Just asking.” They found what she said difficult to believe.

Their eyes darted back to the stars, their voice softer as they craned their neck slightly to look at the sky better.

“How could you enjoy anything like this when there’s so much war and pain around you, though? The shadow court itself didn’t care for the mess it left the world in, and they grew up in the light realm. What would make you and your army preserve something you have no ties or links to ?”

They asked, but no answer came. After a few moments, they gulped, curiosity getting the best of them.

“Why is your mother so…obsessed with it though? I mean, most people wouldn’t go through the trouble of capturing someone, experimenting on them -which, creepy, by the way- and then hunting them down without a break . So, why do you go through all the trouble to do all that for a realm you’ve barely interacted with?”

Raine asked, and despite their obvious feelings for the Ash Empire and all of this mess, the question was genuine.

Valax’s reaction though didn’t change. It actually became more hostile.

She scowled again.

“As if you would understand.” She spat, tone harsh and dismissive.

“It’s none of your business anyway,” her familiar scowl, her firm tone filled with an anger that felt about to explode and consume them, made them both shiver and clench their fists.

Raine sputtered and chuckled in disbelief. “It isn- hello? Yes, it very much is my business! You are hunting me down for my blood! How could it not be my business?”

Valax clicked her tongue, looking straight ahead. She clenched one fist, the other hand gripping her glaive. If she risked a glance at them she’d either go on a full fight -which they both knew- or she might actually be tempted to answer their question -which Raine didn’t know -. And she didn’t feel like doing that - surprisingly, she didn’t want to fight now either-.

“No, it is not. Why we will do what we will do after we get your blood does not concern you,” she replied coldly, gripping her glaive to the point her knuckles whitened slightly.

Why did she find it difficult to not tell them? They’re the enemy, it would obviously be pointless to explain and yet she found herself biting her tongue to not say anything.

The breeze traveled through and between them, making Raine shiver softly, caressing their hands up and down their arms. Some strands of hair covered Valax’s face from the wind and she sloppily, even somewhat roughly, pulled them away behind her ears. So much so that even Raine grimaced, pretty sure Valax accidentally scratched her own face.

They looked away, down at their swinging legs.

“Well, you say that. And sure, mother empress wants to conquer the world, cool- well, not cool but you know- why are you so invested in it? ‘Cause it seems like you’re doing most of the work. So… Why…Do you? Is it that you really love your mom and want to help her or something, or-”

They honestly would have stopped talking after that. And they most likely should have been looking at her. If they had, they would have noticed the way she clenched her jaw, the way her teeth grit together, how her expression hardened and how her knuckles whitened.

“Don’t you know when to stop running your mouth?!” She exclaimed loudly, her voice deep, furious and rough. Her glaive, though non-aggressive, turned towards their direction. Their eyes widened in surprise- as much anger Valax had expressed, it was never like this. They lifted their arms again, in surrender.

“Woah, woah, hey! I’m sorry! Sorry!” They rushed to apologise and both of them wondered if it even meant anything. But Raine knew they didn’t wish to pick on anyone’s problems like this, not even Valax’s.

“I mean it, alright? Sorry. I didn’t want to…touch a nerve. Really.”

Valax was about to reply but the sincerity in their look and voice made her grumble and relax her shoulders, facing away from them again.

“Whatever,” she mumbled. The silence was awkward and too loud.

Raine cleared their throat as quietly as they could.

The wind ruffled their clothes and hair again, making them look even more disheveled than before, and the same applied to Valax.

Her hair moved to flutter over her face again and she frustratingly sighed and clumsily- and roughly- pushed the strands behind her ears. Raine winced to themselves once more, certain the elf had scratched herself again.

They shivered slightly in the breeze and ran their hands up and down their arms. They glanced at her, her eyes still on the night sky. It had grown very quiet. They shivered again.

She didn’t seem cold and if she was she didn’t show it.

“Aren’t you cold?” they asked, their own hair currently being ruffled by the wind.

Valax scoffed as she glanced at them her voice calmer, despite everything.

“You day walkers are quite fragile, are you not ?”

Raine scoffed, smiling faintly.

“Nah. There’s plenty of strong fellas here. I know people that can crush skulls like it’s nothing. Orcs, for example, could do it. Easily. I’m pretty sure they are the strongest in Morella.”

Their eyes fell on Imtura, some meters below the cliff they were sitting on and they smiled.

Valex frowned confused at the name ‘Morella’ but Raine waved their hand dismissively, not really feeling like explaining much at the moment.

“I’m not going to come with you,” they clarified after a moment - not that they needed to.

Valax looked down at her glaive, humming as she gripped it.

“Yes, I assumed you wouldn’t. That’s what makes you a formidable enemy, I suppose. No one fights so ferociously even when the odds are against them, just for the sake of it. As annoying as you are, I can recognise that.”

Raine snorted, smiling at themselves.

Imtura fights against all odds, they thought. Just because it’s fun.

They didn’t say that. Different words slipped their lips before they realised it.

“So you enjoy fighting with me? You come to find me whenever you wanna let some steam off?”

They asked, surprised at their own playfulness. Valax was terrifying, their skin crawled at the sound of her name- but having her here like this, under the light of the moon, divine and radiant, the rips of light across the night sky and her– nearly awed, nearly relaxed (definitely lacking the usual hardness and scowl) made the moment almost vulnerable.

Maybe they were tired but it was almost like the lines between them blurred and swirled. Valax scoffed but it lacked the usual hostility. They could swear they saw her lips tugging slightly at the side.

“You really don’t know when to stop running your mouth, do you?”

She asked again, no hostility in her voice this time. She sounded more amused than anything.

Raine grinned, the cheeky words leaving their mouth before they could stop them.

“ I ‘ve been told it’s part of my charm.”

Valax glanced at them and scoffed- yes, again- but the sound was more akin to a chuckle. She smiled to herself ever so slightly, the expression concealed by the darkness of the night.

Raine smiled slightly as they noticed it, despite the princess’ efforts.

A princess. Like Aerin.

Raine had come to realise that royals aren’t as happy as they thought when they were a child. Yet again, can you really trust a kid to not see the world as the best possible version it could be?

They wondered if Valax was unhappy as well. They glanced at her for a moment, the wind ruffling her hair slightly her head tilted upwards and the light of the stars and meteors falling across the sky reflecting on her black eyes.

They didn’t ask.

They turned their head to the sky. The rips across the sky started to mend, to heal and gradually turned to scratches and distant blinks of light until they disappeared.

They sat a moment in silence before Valax’s deep voice shattered it, her hardness slowly seeping in her tone and words.

“You should call for your companions,” she stood up, her presence imposing. The powerful shadow magic returned on one hand, glaive at the ready in the other.

Raine sighed, gripping their weapon. They looked at the distance for a moment, cherishing the last seconds of silence and peace before the fight.

The emotions that swirled beneath their eyes mixed together and their jaw clenched, their grip on their preferred weapon tightening.

“Yes.” They replied, voice unusually serious.

“ I should .”

#bolas fanfic #blades of light and shadow valax #bolas valax #valax x mc #princess valax #valax x raine ?

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reyesstrand · 1 year

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id imagine the tk carlos thing might be religion/gwyn related too i’m not jewish so if i’m wrong people can tell me but i went to a university with 1/4 jewish student body and learned a lot about the religion and culture in that time and judaism can be very particular when it comes to traditions and mothers are very important to especially more conservative sects and some rabbis won’t marry non jewish people to jewish people i mean more do now than used to but it’s not as simple has marrying into christianity since it’s a closed religion so it could bring up questions especially if it contradicts with what id imagine to be carloss catholic family traditions

yeah i know like next to nothing about the intricacies of judaism despite what i’ve researched to put it in tiny moments of my fics, and even then i can obviously never know everything completely (same with catholicism) but! this seems likely? we know rafael’s been talking more about his choices in wearing a gold cross since push, and their faces here suggest that they’re learning some hard truths and realities about keeping both of their faiths and traditions upheld in an inter-faith ceremony

of course that might only be a small piece of the puzzle re: tim’s quote, but i do think this will open up a larger conversation about what they want their future to look like specifically with their strong ties to their own faiths through their families, which could just in general get them talking more about what they want coming down the road (ie: raising a family ((EVENTUALLY)), keeping these elements of judaism and catholicism and finding a balance in their lives, etc etc), and could get them feeling giddy and excited. i also think this could hit deeper in the sense that we could finally get tk really talking about gwyn’s absence through the planning and the actual day of the wedding—he could address that grief and maybe why one particular tradition is important to him. i don’t know if these stills are for sure related but i love them so here <3

AND….this is less about your anon specifically, but i also feel like we have to remember that julian is the one who specifically brought up trauma in a question where he mentions all the cast being excited about the wedding. this trauma could relate to another character as they build up to the wedding; we see captain ryder again at some point which is telling, and we also have some grace/judd plots coming up too. tim speaks in his usual confusing teasing way about whether or not tk and carlos will face trauma on the way to the wedding now, and he only really says “complication…neither one of them had really seen coming.” while of course we could be gearing up for another Big Thing to happen, i think we’re past that, and the most difficult thing they’ll be enduring is religion/officiant stuff and/or things relating to their own families and gwyn. they probably should have seen that coming, sure, but it gives them something to go through that isn’t completely perfect sailing to the wedding and gives them some emotional stuff to dig into.

#answered #anonymous #lone star spoilers #lone star speculation

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theinternetisaweboflies · 1 year

Photo

Gates to Heck by girlinstory (Chapter 1)

This story is a follow-up to the omake "Teaching Mob Basketball > Anti-terrorism", in which Teru does a vigilante-justice speedrun so he can teach Mob how to dribble.

The omake can be read here.

"Hanezawa-kun?"

"Hey, Kageyama-kun! I hope you weren't waiting too long. Sorry I couldn't meet up with you until today. I know there's a time crunch, but I was able to brush up on a few drills that I think will really help you out at the inter-class game."

"I didn't realize basketball was such a dangerous sport." If anyone other than Shigeo had said that, it would have been sarcastic, but Teru knew better.

He should have gone to Sephora. Teru had used up the last of his Benefit Cakeless Full Coverage after dealing with Bloody Rain, and the only waterproof stuff he had left was Maybelline Super-Stay.

Teru waved him off. "Oh, this? Ha ha ha. No, Kageyama-kun, I just had a little accident the other night. It's not as bad as it looks though."

"It's not?" Shigeo tilted his head to one side. "Isn't it covered up with makeup though?"

"Oh, uh… Just a little. You know how vain I am! Ha!"

"Why do you keep saying the word 'ha'?" asked Shigeo.

"Ha," said Teru before he could stop himself. "Well, it was pretty cringe of me, I guess. I tripped over my own feet, right in front of the whole school. If that didn't finally destroy my old urabanchou status, I don't know what will." Teru managed something approximating an actual laugh this time. His acting skills had gone to pot since he started this whole honesty thing.

He wanted to be honest with Shigeo, but this was just a little white lie. Everyone told little white lies. Probably even Shigeo.

"You're lying, aren't you, Hanezawa-kun?"

Probably not Shigeo.

"What? No, I-"

"You already said it happened at night."

Maybe Teru's fever was worse than he'd thought.

"You're right, Kageyama-kun. I'm sorry for lying. The truth is that I'm embarrassed about how I really hurt myself, and I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh." Shigeo seemed to be considering this. "I can understand that. Are you sure you shouldn't be resting though? That shoulder looks pretty bad too."

"Nonsense!" The shoulder had popped right back in, and he had almost the full range of motion already. "I'll mostly just be coaching anyway. I'll only have to demonstrate a few things to get you started. Most of the work is going to be drills. It gets repetitive, but you must be used to that from your club, right?"

Shigeo nodded.

"Great! So the five basic skills that make up basketball are shooting, dribbling, defending, rebounding, and passing. We're going to start with dribbling, because it's the most rudimentary, but also one of the most difficult. It involves coordinating your whole body at once. We'll start with just dribbling in place and then move on to traveling with the ball. Sound good?"

Shigeo nodded again, his nose scrunched up in concentration. Teru pulled a basketball out of the bin and dribbled it a few times to demonstrate the correct form. He'd gotten permission to use the court at Black Vinegar since the Basketball Club was at an away game.

Shigeo was still struggling with his hand-eye coordination after twenty minutes of dribbling, and Teru started to think he should have prioritized this over the terrorists.

"You're doing fine. Try snapping your wrist, but not too-"

Shigeo snapped his wrist too hard, and the ball bounced away towards the bleachers. Again.

"No worries! I'll grab it." Teru jogged over to the bleachers and bent down to pick up the ball. When he straightened back up, the edges of his vision started to darken, like someone had just used the vignette tool on his eyes.

Teru had passed out enough times to know the drill. He sat down before he could fall down and crack his skull open on the gummy gymnasium floor.

"...zawa-kun! Hanazawa-kun, please wake up!"

Shigeo's voice sounded muffled even though he was speaking much louder than usual. Teru couldn't even hear his own voice when he responded, but he could feel his lips form the words.

"I'm fine."

"You passed out."

The world was starting to come back into focus, and Teru realized he was propped up against a very sweaty shoulder.

"I just got a bit dizzy. It's no big deal. A little water, and I'll be-"

"No," Shigeo interrupted him. "I'm taking you home now."

Teru could already tell it wasn't worth arguing, so he didn't even try. He even let Kageyama-kun buy him a juice from the vending machine.

"I'm sorry, Hanazawa-kun," Shigeo said, as soon as they were walking towards the station. "It wasn't fair of me to ask you for what I did. I'm grateful you're willing to teach me how to play basketball, but I can't expect to win a game against experienced players with only a week of practice."

Teru didn't know what to say to that, but his mouth seemed to have its own ideas. "Isn't the person you're interested in going to be watching?"

"She probably won't be watching me," said Shigeo, matter-of-factly. There was a pause while they got on the train and Shigeo ducked between two salarymen to stake out a seat. He maneuvered Teru into it before grabbing the strap above his head.

"Actually, she's part of the reason I realized that I was being unfair to you," said Shigeo. The salarymen were arguing loudly, and Shigeo's soft voice was probably inaudible to anyone but Teru. "When we were young, she would ask me to do difficult things for her, like shooting games and math. Then she would stop paying attention to me as soon as I did them. I don't want to treat people like that. It was rude of me to ask you for a favor when we haven't spent any time together since you helped me save Ritsu."

"No, it wasn't! I'm happy to help! I mean, I will be, once I actually… help…" Teru trailed off anticlimactically. He needed this to go well, or Shigeo wouldn't ask him for help again, and then they'd never have a reason to see each other. Teru could only "accidentally" bump into him so many times.

"I think I would rather help you right now," said Shigeo.

That one was kind of a stumper, but Teru was saved the trouble of responding when they pulled into his station.

The walk back to his apartment was silent, mostly because Teru was concentrating on not passing out again. When they arrived, he fumbled his keys, flushing from a combination of embarrassment and fever.

Teru shouldn't even have a fever. He had taken down Final Dog and Gates to Heck in one night. He'd just gotten a little sloppy when he was dropping them off with Joseph. One of the Final Dogs had grabbed his shoulder, kneed him in the face, and almost unmasked him.

Teru didn't want the psychic terrorists to learn his identity, but he really didn't want the shady government mercenary to learn his identity. He was always careful to keep his aura in check around Joseph, who seemed perfectly comfortable with their backdoor dealings, although he had started referring to Teru as "Deep Throat," which was sort of concerning.

Teru had managed to keep his mask on, mostly because it felt like the fabric was embedded in his skull, but he'd let a little of his aura slip. Between worrying about a surprise government draft and basketball drills, Teru had neglected his household chores.

There were pieces of clothing strewn all over the apartment, some glittering in the late afternoon sun. His industrial first aid kit was sitting on the coffee table, along with his comparatively-sized makeup kit. There was even a cup of instant noodles coagulating next to them. Teru did a millisecond of triage before using his powers to hide the underwear and the noodles.

Shigeo took it all in without a word, and Teru felt his fever go up a couple of degrees.

"Sorry about the mess," he said lamely.

Shigeo cleared a purple windbreaker off the couch and gently pushed Teru into its spot. Then he knelt in front of the coffee table and opened the first aid kit. He rummaged around for a few minutes. Sometimes he would pick up something like a hemostatic bandage or a shock blanket and frown at it for a moment before carefully replacing it. Eventually he found the cooling patches.

Teru held very still while Shigeo swept his bangs back from his forehead and applied the patch. He must have felt Teru's fever through his shirt.

"Thanks," said Teru.

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

He looked up. Shigeo's gaze was focused on the wall above the bookshelf, where Teru had somehow forgotten to hide the single most incriminating item in his apartment. Literally, since vigilante work was probably illegal, even if he was sort of working for the government.

Oni Group

Phoenix

Extermination Club

Psycho Union

Mad Emperor

Final Dog

Espers

Bloody Rain

Gates to Heck

"Hanazawa-kun…" Shigeo hesitated, frowned, but forged ahead anyway, "Are you thinking of forming another gang?"

Teru couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. It was only a little hysterical.

#mp100 #mp100 fanfic #terumob #terumob fanfic #teruki hanazawa #mob psycho 100 fanfiction

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scotianostra · 1 year

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On December 8th 1542 Mary, Queen of Scots, was born at Linlithgow Palace, West Lothian in 1542.

Mary’s father was at his beloved palace of Falkland, where he would in fact die aged thirty days later, having learned of the birth of his baby daughter. The true cause of the death of James V has never been satisfactorily explained, although all sources agree that the king underwent a physical and nervous collapse as a result of his humiliation and devastation at the Battle of Solway Moss. However as I posted two weeks ago the King missed the battle and was perhaps suffering from a fever beforehand, in my opinion it is being used as a poor excuse for his death.

The room in which Mary was born is now little more than a romantic ruin without a roof, however its location in the north-west portion of Linlithgow Palace, still enjoys the view out over the loch as it did when Mary’s mother Queen Mary of Guise, gave birth to her here.

If ever in the area a visit to Linlithgow Palace is a must, although check beforehand as there is currently no visitor access to inside the palace ue to access restrictions in place as a precautionary measure while they undertake high level masonry inspections, this has been the case for some time now, regulars here will know it’s a place I love and visit regularly.

St. Michael’s Church is traditionally thought to have been the setting for Mary’s christening. Mary in fact only remained some months at Linlithgow, being taken onwards to the castle of Stirling by Mary of Guise. Historical doubt has arisen over the accuracy of December 8 as the actual birthday of Mary Queen of Scots and it has been suggested that the event in reality may have taken place on December 7th, but that December 8th was used so that the day could coincide with the feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Mary herself however always referred to December 8 thas the day she regarded as being her birthday.

Indeed one historical works about Mary’s life gave this short account…..

“The nation partook in Mary of Guise’ misfortunes, when she lost both her sons, soon after the birth of the second. She had the consolation, however of bringing her husband, while he was dying of an afflicted spirit, a daughter, on the 7th of December 1542, in the palace of Linlithgow.”

The birth of Mary Queen of Scots is commemorated annually by a short private ceremony at Westminster Abbey on her birthday, 8th December, together with the laying of flowers in the Queen’s memory. The Marie Stuart Society raised funds to enable a statue of the Queen to be erected on the Peel at Linlithgow Palace, the place of her birth and I have heard some of them gather there now to remember Queen Mary.

I also think it sad that our Queen was buried in Westminster, the traditional burial setting for many of England’s monarchs and the setting for each royal coronation since her own death. Although Mary had herself requested to be buried in France, this wish was not granted by Elizabeth I and she was initially interred with great solemnity at Peterborough Cathedral in late 1587, where her body remained at rest for twenty five years. It was the eventual wish of James VI/I, that her body be removed from Peterborough Cathedral to Westminster Abbey in 1612, ordering a spectacular marble canopy tomb to his mother’s memory by the sculptors Cornelius and William Cure, today to be found opposite the tomb of Elizabeth I, in the Abbey’s south aisle of the Lady Chapel. The tomb is loaded with symbolism particular to Mary’s ancestry and life with a crowned Scottish lion, bearing a magnificent Latin mourning inscription written by Henry, Earl of Northampton and containing two verses from the Gospel book of Peter. Close to her tomb is that of her mother-in-law, Margaret, Countess of Lennox.

However, the tomb of Mary Queen of Scots did not remain undisturbed following her reburial, nor was the peace of her final resting place unbroken. Mary would come to share her burial vault with many of her descendants, including her granddaughter Elizabeth of Bohemia, the unfortunate Arbella Stuart, Prince Rupert of the Rhine, the much lamented Henry Prince of Wales as well as ten infant children of James II and the eighteen babies of Queen Anne who died at birth. This search had been prompted by Dean Stanley in 1867, because the location of the coffin of Mary’s son James VI/I was at that time unknown. Logical thought led the searchers to assume that he may have been buried in the Stuart vault of his mother, although his lead coffin was eventually found in the vault of Henry VII, where he lay alongside the remains of his great-great-grandparents Henry VII and Queen Elizabeth of York.

So there you have it from her birth in 1542, to her death in 1587, I think I cover enough of her life throughout the year for you all to fill in the missing years, which as usual I will endeavour to do once more in the year 2023.

#Scotland #scottish #the stewarts #mary queen of scots #linlithgow palace #history

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theyaremanycolours · 10 months

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Because AO3 is currently down, here's The Curse of Pablo the Reluctant Goober

Razputin Aquato was in the ~~inter~~ Junior Agents' Break Room, eating a bowl of cereal at the table.

\It had been a few months since the Maligula incident, and while there had been some missions since then, most of them had been small, like investigating the Case of the Missing Tofu (Turns out someone had eaten Psitanium and became convinced that Most Roast's town-famous barbecue tofu gave her superpowers)

\It was all calm and quiet, a regular day, to be honest. And then, for no apparent reason, Raz was suddenly dressed in a clown suit.

\He ate unbothered for several seconds before noticing.

\"Huh. It must be April," he said, before his eyes widened "Wait, the Hand was fake, but this one was real...?"

\"What one? Why are you wearing clown suit?!"

\Norma rolled her eyes, "It's because he clearly can't take this job seriously."

\"You're just jealous I can make this work! Your clown suit just looks terrible\~" he said, honking his nose before realisation swept over his face

\"Oh no"

\The others were too busy laughing (or fuming in Norma's case) to notice that fact, and even if they were, the entrance of Dion and Frazie loudly singing, decked in only the most clownish attire. \"MY-YA HEE, MY-YA HOO, MY-YA HA, MY-YA HA-HA\~!"

\ Before Frazie picked up Norma "Oh my googly moo, my sweet sugar spice pie\~ I LOVE YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART\~!"

\And then she proceeded to kiss Norma sloppily, leaving huge Clown Lipstick Marks all over her face.

\And then Dion spoke, or rather Honked, a sappy look in his eyes as he kissed Gisu's hand delicately, before offering a big, beautiful rose to her Gisu, a little confused but honoured, held the rose between her fingers before it squirted water right in her face Dion giggled out a few soft honks before brushing the water off her face and gently kissing her face, leaving her blushing hard at the clown boy

\It took a few seconds before anyone could respond, the loud sounds of smooching the only thing filling the silence.

\ "What the hell?!?" Morris finally said

\"It's the Curse-" Raz began

\"Cursed aren't real, Raz." Lili responded

\"I didn't think it was real after the whole Maligula thing, but I swear this one is real-!" Raz puttered out "Or at least, it still feels real-"

\"Just explain it Raz-!" Lizzie responded

\"Okay, so, apparently my great great great uncle Pablo Aquato apparently thought clowns were 'pathetic, un-serious performers' and managed to completely wreck the Jester Association 's annual Clown-off three times in a row, so they cursed him and our entire family to become the goofiest clowns possible every time the Clown Off happens- Or at least that's how dad says it"

\ "If that's true then why aren't you doing clown stuff?"

\ "I'M TRYING MY BEST TO HOLD IT BACK I WANT TO GOOF OFF SO HARD RIGHT NOW BUT IF I DO NO ONE WOULD RESPECT ME AS A PSYCHONAUT AND I'LL № KICKED OUT BUT I'M SCARED IF I DON'T I'LL TRY TO PRANK ALL THE GODS -!"

\"Raz," Lili spoke calmly, her voice calm and clear "If anyone tried to kick you out because of you being affected by something you can't control after you saved the entire world twice, they'd have to go through me!"

\Raz looked uncertain still.

\"Look, you have my permission to do goofy clown stuff as long as you don't hurt anyone, okay?"

\Raz blinked once. \Twice. \The tension in his body relaxed and his eyes lit up. He gently kissed his girlfriend on the cheek, honked his nose twice and then ran out the door in a split second. \"... Well, that doesn't feel ominous" Lizzie said, right before Sam pie'd her.

\"What, you had a "Pie Me" sign on your face!"

#Ao3 #Psychonauts 2 spoilers #Psychonauts #Fanfic

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addictivewhispering · 1 year

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detailed post about my thoughts/criticisms of milan's recent performances that no one asked for but hey!! why not. i'm in a silly giggly mood rn so it's all lighthearted. no one's obliged to read i'm just rambling

overall: not a great mentality in the team rn. the players get nervous in important games (first ten minutes against inter), and get nervous and frustrated when losing. after spezia's 2nd goal you could see slips, more pointless fouls, more mistakes in play and passing. as a team there isn't much mental fortitude and that can prove to be a killer. for some reason we only show up against top-table opponents (napoli, lazio, atalanta but that was a while ago) and can't handle it against anyone else? idk but it's weird.

on pioli: is he to blame for lack of depth and the players making stupid mistakes on their own? i don't think so. but tactically it's undeniable that there are decisions he could make better (the calabria-dzeko mismatch has been talked about a lot). and he should be the one helping with team spirit and mentality. with everything happening right now we're stagnating with no real improvement. i respect what he's done for milan before and i do like him as a dude but i think in the summer it's time for him to go. (i don't think an immediate sacking would help as it may cause too much disruption and we might not be able to find a better replacement so soon)

on the defense: i just really don't understand why it's so inconsistent. probably due to the mentality stuff i mentioned earlier. i think kjaer/thiaw/theo have been the most decent recently, as tomori's been inconsistent all season and i don't know what calabria's doing half the time he's on the pitch. and we need to start conversations about kalulu. ever since he came back from injury he's kind of really stunk. maybe it's just me tho but i don't think he's been at all up to his standards recently. again the defense looked really solid vs lazio but against inter i felt like it was january again and that is certainly not a good thing...

on the midfield: well bennacer is out for the rest of the season so it's mostly a write-off for this area i think we're finished djfkdhfdjh. tonali/krunic nothing to say, i do think they've been solid and important even if krunic kind of ghosted against inter from what i can remember. as for pobega.... did yall see that "pass" he tried to do in the dying minutes that went straight out of play. that sums him up for me, he's a hard worker and has a good shot but other than that he doesn't really bring quality. as for quality, THANK FUCKING GOD pioli finally brought out adli. he didn't have much time but imo he really shone, good control of the ball and didn't manage to lose it in a stupid way like how most of our players do. just checked fotmob too and he completed the most dribbles of any player!!! good for him but when he came on in the 70th minute that speaks a lot about the others.

on the attack: one decision i will consistently fight against pioli over is the decision to play brahim as an attacking midfielder. HE'S NOT THAT GOOD AS AN AM. he just gets fucking bodied by everyone like against inter because he's so small (that should've been a penalty on him today btw), he works better out wide with more space. about saelemaekers, i've grown to respect him a lot recently, it feels like he always gives his best. even if his best isn't always like... top tier lmfao i still respect what he tries to do. with leao injured i thought he did pretty well as a deputy. as for messias.... i'm just gonna include this image here.

anyway back to it. we all know origi has been utter booty ass for most of this season. but honestly the last two or three games? he actually looks like a football player now LMFAOAOAOAI. he can actually run and do things with the ball who woulda thought!!! i'm waiting for the corner taken quickly on tuesday. cdk however... he looked somewhat decent for like one or two games recently but today he was back to being a passive force. i really don't know what to say about this boy, honestly i feel bad for him and i don't know what could fix it. a better coach maybe hmm??? hm??? anyway onto giroud, it pains me to say it but he really has not been good lately. i honestly just think he's tired. he constantly presses which wears out his legs, he barely even wins aerial duals or headers anymore which is supposed to be his specialty. idk man. he scored once in all of march and once in april. the busy schedule obviously doesn't help. he needs rest and so do i (typing this from my bed)

and finally, my idol ante rebic is finished

#my demons #long post #muri #sorta #i literally cant stop saying my idol ante rebic is finished idk what's wrong w me

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koushisun · 2 years

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A Burning Hill

Chapter 1: Fire Is an Old Friend

pairing: Diluc Ragnvindr x GN!Reader, they/them pronouns used for reader length: 2.3k genre & warnings: Cyberpunk AU, mentions and slight descriptions of body modifications, mentions of alcohol, swearing (not beta-read) Notes: this is for the @treehouse-network collab! this was my first time writing anything cyberpunk, but i had a ton of fun with this! hopefully i can capture at least a little bit of the genre! also, i've got one more chapter already written for this, but after that updates will come whenever i have time! :) (also i do believe ira asked to be tagged so @killerdabi if u still wanted to read this its finally done skdjfh)

The train to Mondstadt is quiet.

It’s a bit too quiet for your taste; being alone with your thoughts has never really been a pleasant experience for you. Even the busiest train car is sparsely populated, with only a handful of people seated throughout.

The bullet trains of Teyvat are sleek and efficient in design, the seats spaced with a clinical sort of accuracy. The insides are a stark white, with chrome accents scattered around, reflecting the sunlight coming through the large windows on either side. The floor of the center aisle and the ceiling have a bright stripe of color running down their lengths—a neon light meant to indicate which district the train is currently passing through. Right now, the light is a brilliant royal blue, which means you’re on your way through Fontaine.

Fontaine is arguably the most pastoral of the seven districts, and you often find yourself wondering what it might be like to live there. Would you have a farm, raising sheep and cattle? Or perhaps you’d have a small cottage where no one would be able to find you. The capital of Fontaine was also nice—cleaner than most of the other districts, and their interest in technology is centered more on practical, everyday items.

Ah, well, there’s no use dwelling on hypotheticals.

You don’t sleep for the rest of the train ride; the trip only lasts an hour and a half at most, and you can’t afford to let your guard down in a public place. You watch the blue lights on the ceiling melt into warm gold and, later, from gold into a striking teal. You have finally passed through Liyue and into Mondstadt.

The bullet train comes to a stop, a smooth yet slightly robotic voice announcing your arrival in the City of Freedom. With a puff, the doors slide open, and you grab your bags, stepping off the train. It’s been almost a decade since your last visit to Mondstadt, and though the memories aren’t all great, you are happy to be back.

Dottore had been the one to bring you here, under the premise of inter-district diplomacy and whatnot. You hadn’t believed him for a second. As if Dottore would ever be interested in something like diplomacy. No, you knew better than that. There was no way that Dottore would have come all the way to Mondstadt for something that mundane. That man was nothing short of crazy, and honestly, you had hated every moment you were forced to spend with him.

You’re glad that’s all in the past.

Mondstadt is the same bustling city you remember it being, music blaring from speakers somewhere off in the distance and giant windmills looming over the buildings. People crowd the streets, and you have to shoulder your way through the densely packed streets.

Despite being the smallest district, Mond has a way of drawing people in. Though, its main draw might just be its (unintentional) leniency with law enforcement. You don’t think you could ever see yourself living here; the worn-down buildings and crowded streets aren’t much to your liking, though you guess they have a certain charm.

What you do like about Mondstadt is the alcohol. The drinks in Snezhnaya have always been too strong for you, but the wine in Mondstadt goes down easy—you find it more refreshing than inebriating. You can feel yourself brighten up at the thought of tasting Dandelion Wine for the first time in nearly ten years, and you maneuver the streets with renewed vigor.

You make your way to a bar on the city's far end—Angel’s Share. The outside is unassuming, just a normal-looking tavern; you doubt it would have caught your interest had the reviews not been so impressive. It seems as if the entirety of Mond is taken with this tavern. Not even their competitor, the Cat’s Tail, had anything bad to say when you looked.

Walking inside, the first thing you notice is the noise. Idle chatter bounces off the walls, filling the space with a liveliness only achievable in the City of Freedom. The walls are a deep red, and golden lights scattered around the room brighten up the space. The lack of technology is strange; usually, bars and restaurants would let automated tech take care of orders and other tasks. But here you see waitstaff scurrying around, dodging rowdy customers and delivering their drinks with practiced ease.

One of the hostesses directs you to the bar, and you slide into a seat.

“What can I get for you?”

The voice that greets you is deeper than the last time you heard it, but there is no mistaking it.

“Diluc?” Your eyes widen in recognition, and the man behind the counter stills momentarily. He clears his throat before repeating his question. You raise an eyebrow at his apparent dismissal. “Just a glass of Dandelion Wine, please.”

He nods, quickly filling a glass and sliding it to you.

“You know,” you start, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you ended up back here.” You take a long sip of your drink and sigh. Perhaps absence does make the heart grow fonder, because the drink is absolutely divine.

“Oh?” He turns to grab a glass to dry off, though you don’t miss that it’s already dry. “And why is that?”

“You always had something to come back to.” You shrug.

When you don’t add anything else, Diluc asks, “So why are you in Mondstadt, anyway?”

You snort. “What, am I not allowed to go places for the hell of it?” Diluc’s face sours, and you laugh. “I'm kidding, I’m kidding.” Your voice lowers. “I’m here chasing a lead. Seems like the Abyss is on the move again, and I’m not going to let the Fatui take advantage of that.” Setting your glass down, you continue, “Besides, you and I both know that Ordo Favonius can only do so much. I figured it was probably better if I just handled it myself.”

He hums in thought. “Well, if you need help, you know where to find me.” Diluc turns, and suddenly the conversation is over. You sigh and return to your drink.

“You’re early.” A grin breaks out on your face at the sound of your old friend. You turn in your seat to see a tall woman dressed in all black, a nun’s veil covering her short, burgundy hair.

Rosaria, the most eccentric member of the Mondstadt clergy. You had met her back when you visited Mond with Dottore, and you had kept in contact with her ever since. Work was hardly ever a topic of discussion, at least while you were a Harbinger, but those conversations kept you sane while you worked your life away under the Tsaritsa. She had become a sister of sorts, no pun intended, and you find yourself grateful for her constant companionship.

“Ah, well, I had to check out the place myself. Surely you didn’t think I’d go into this blind?”

Rosaria simply rolls her eyes at you before walking away. You stand, glancing at Diluc one last time before following your friend to the second floor of the bar.

“I didn’t realize you knew each other,” Rosaria states. It’s obvious that she means Diluc.

You brush shoulders with her as you walk up the stairs. The wood creaks under your feet, and you mentally note what steps to avoid next time. “Ah, yeah. I haven’t seen him for the last two years, though. We don’t really… talk anymore.”

“Something bad happen?” You grimace slightly at her question.

“Not exactly.” You sit down, pulling out a chair, and Rosaria does the same. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

You scoff. “Yeah? Good for you.” Your tone is edging on sharp, and your friend takes the hint. You rifle through your bag before setting your laptop down on the table. “Anyways, it looks like the Abyss is en route to Springvale Ward. From what I can tell, one of their Lectors is leading a group of mages and other low-level threats to Springvale to distract us from their bigger plot.”

Rosaria nods. “So, what is the bigger plot, exactly?”

“That’s what I don’t know yet, unfortunately. I managed to get some intel out of a couple Abyss associates, but it wasn’t much. The only thing they knew was that they needed to keep the Northeast gate clear of any Favonius who could get in their way.” You send Rosaria a message with all the relevant documents and her phone chimes in her pocket. “The next big question is: are they smuggling something in or out?”

The clicking of boots draws you out of your conversation, and you notice a man approaching. His dark teal hair sits long over his shoulder, his ornate outfit complementing it beautifully. He takes a seat across from you, next to Rosaria. “So what’s this I hear about the Abyss attacking Mondstadt?

Rosaria doesn’t say anything to the newcomer, but she doesn’t seem to regard him as a threat. You answer cautiously. “Are they now? That would be real bad, wouldn’t it?”

The man just smirks. “The name’s Kaeya Alberich. Captain of the Mounted Unit for Ordo Favonius. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He’s charming in the most disarming of ways, and were it not for the eyepatch on his face, you imagine he would’ve winked right about then.

“You can call me Shade.” You shake his hand, and his icy blue eye lights up in recognition.

“Oh, so you’re the infamous Shade. I’ve heard quite a lot about you, though I must say not all of it was good.” The smile never slips from his face, and you keep your guard equally as high.

“I’m not interested in whatever rumors you’ve heard, Captain Alberich. My only goal is to help people. If you have a problem with that, I’m sorry to say that’s not my issue to deal with.”

He laughs at that, nudging Rosaria’s shoulder. “Did you hear that, Rosaria? They called me Captain Alberich! Not even my officers call me that! You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you?” Rosaria doesn’t move as Kaeya slings an arm around her. He eventually simmers down, and he notices you fiddling with your arm.

It’s one of a few body modifications you have; some are a relic of your time in the Fatui, and some are more recent. You’re sure Dottore would’ve turned his nose up at the newer ones you’ve gotten, but he always was such a snob. Your forearm has a couple of panels; most of the internal structure was changed to accommodate electrical wires. You click them open and shut, mostly out of boredom.

“Ah, are you team mod, too?” You turn your eyes back to Kaeya and shrug.

“I’m not against it. I got some, had some given to me—it all kind of blends together after a while.” You click your arm shut one last time, flexing your fingers. “You have some yourself, I assume?” He nods but doesn’t demonstrate. Not that you were all that interested to begin with.

“Unlike my brother, I find body modification rather intriguing. Diluc can go on and on about the sanctity of the human body, but I really don’t get it. Why wouldn’t I want to make my life easier?” He flags down a nearby waitress and orders a few drinks for the table. “But anyway, enough about me.” He leans in closer to you. “I would love to hear all about what the Abyss is up to.”

It strikes you at that moment that Kaeya is much like a bird. Charming, beautiful, and sings a tune that drags you in feet first. But, unlike the tiny songbirds you find so appealing, Kaeya is sharp. He is more like a bird of prey. A hawk hidden under a false coast of peacock feathers. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up clasped in his beak, with no escape easily found.

You share your intel, and Kaeya leaves.

“I hope you know,” you say as you watch Kaeya disappear down the stairs, “that I don’t intend to let Ordo Favonius do all the work.”

Rosaria smiles. “Oh, I was counting on it.”

The rest of your evening goes by in a flash, the night speeding by in a mix of booze and old stories swapped between friends. Before you know it, Rosaria heads out for the night, leaving you by the bar. The noise has vanished from the building, only a few sleepy patrons left scattered around at various tables.

“I saw Kaeya leave earlier tonight.” You hear Diluc’s voice off to your right, and you see him walk out from behind the bar. He makes himself comfortable on the stool next to yours, and you turn away from him. “Did you really go to Ordo Favonius for help before you came to me?” The bitterness in his voice is plain, and you feel years-old resentment stir in your chest.

“Yeah, like you’ve made it so easy to talk to you these last two years,” you huff. “Honestly, Diluc. You know the Order isn’t my first choice, and I wouldn’t have gone to them if I didn’t think it would help.” His gaze lingers on you, heavy in all its intensity. “Besides, it’s not like I asked Kaeya to meet me. I came here to talk to Rosaria, and he just happened to show up. I made a judgment call, and now I just have to hope it pays off.”

A tense silence follows.

“I’m just saying that Ordo Favonius is inefficient. You can’t trust them to get anything done.”

You furrow your brows, feeling your annoyance seep onto your face. “And I’m just saying that I didn’t ask for your opinion on my decisions. You lost that right when you left, and you know it.”

Diluc doesn’t say anything to that, perhaps because he agrees, or perhaps because he simply doesn’t know what to say. Or perhaps a bit of both.

Both of you end that night feeling a bit sadder and lonelier than you started out.

#diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #koushisun writes

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