#first fic and not the strongest

[beepboopkek]

— Strip Starchess with Jing Yuan (Female Reader)

Including: Jing Yuan cw: afab!reader, pwp but barely, slight mention of reader having a size kink, unprotected p in v, first time writing a proper fic, first time writing smut (please send help), reader is a little bashful, overall its kind of a self-projection I guess. Jing Yuan is a little bastard (affectionate), stripping (who would've guessed), grammatical errors(I tried), Jing Yuan calls you pet names (dear, love), no use of y/n, light bondage ( reader gets their hands tied with a t-shirt nothing too bad), safe sane and consensual w/c: 3941 (might be a little off since I made a few edits in this post) a/n: I am so sorry for this I am going to die of cringe later but I needed this out of my brain so I made my best attempt at writing. There is a lot of stuff that is bad but I do not have the energy or patience to do it so, you have been warned, this is a first-time smut from an inexperienced writer whose first language isn't english :3 hope someone out there likes this

You were bored.

Extremely bored.

Jing Yuan had promised you he’d come home on time so that the two of you could enjoy dinner together. You had something fun planned for the evening for the two of you. Something you were excited to try out.

One problem though, there were still no signs of your boyfriend’s arrival.

You sent him a few messages asking him where he was but to no avail, you knew for a fact he wouldn’t be able to respond anyway.

The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you turned around and were met with an apologetic soft smile on Jing Yuan’s face.

“Yu.”

“My Love.”

You huffed at him in annoyance, realising what he was trying to do. He always knew how to soften you up.

“You’re late.” You said as you watched him unstrap his boots and place them near the shoe rack before he turned to look at you.

“I apologize, I overslept in the afternoon and had to compensate as a result.” Jing Yuan gave you a pitiful look.

“Regardless, I am here now,” He walked over to where you were seated and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on your head. “And I’d love to eat what my dear has cooked for me.”

You rolled your eyes at him a little and turned towards the table again as he took his seat opposite to you. You began eating in silence while Jing Yuan served himself some of the food you’d made.

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” He spoke suddenly as you focused on eating and ignoring him.

“Be like what? I didn’t do anything.” You huffed back to him again while continuing to look at your food when you suddenly heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor, you looked up, only to be met with your boyfriend’s amber eyes boring into yours.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

You grumbled something with your mouth full.

“I didn’t catch that, love.”

You gulped down your food, 

“I said, play Starchess with me”

“Do we not play Starchess on a regular basis already?”

“We do, yes, but I found a new variation of the game that I thought would be fun to try out. Only if youre up for it, though.” You made eye contact with him again as his eyebrow shot up in surprise.

He leaned in on the table and rested his head on the palm of his hand as he tilted his head lazily.

“Go on.”

Your confidence and annoyance all but vanished this exact second, you really hadn’t expected him to be this interested and knowing him , he probably already has an idea simply based off of the tone of your voice.

“...Nevermind.” You looked away, blushing as Jing Yuan continued to watch in lazed amusement.

“Is it-”

“Yes it’s Strip Starchess, okay? I thought it would be fun to play.” You blurted out as your ears turned a light shade of red.

“I was going to say Blitz Starchess.”

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned back to look at Jing Yuan who was now miserably failing at holding back his laughter as his shoulders shook silently and he pressed his lips together.

“I hate you.”

Jing Yuan laughed and you pouted.

“I didn’t do anything, though?”

“You know exactly what you're doing, Yu.”

Jing Yuan smiled apologetically once again as you pouted while avoiding eye contact with him. He sighed fondly and picked up his chopsticks again.

“Strip Starchess, hm? Let’s finish dinner and begin.”

You huffed again and turned back to your food and soon enough, Jing Yuan started some casual conversation and the whole ordeal was pushed to the back of your mind.

. . .That was until after you both finished eating and cleaning up.

Shit.

You suddenly had very important things to do in your library so you quietly started walking towards it, hoping Jing Yuan had all but forgotten about your earlier conversation. Just as you were about to open the door, a familiar voice called out from behind you,

"Dear?" 

You slowly turned around, trying not to look like you were caught committing a crime.

"...Yes?"

"Where would you like to play? I think the living room would be best since it is rather spacious. We can close the curtains but,"

Jing Yuan paused as he looked towards the box in his hands and back to you,

"I'm saying that while assuming that we will be taking off our clothes sooner or later. Am I wrong?" 

He smiled innocently. This bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"... Fine, let's go to the living room then, I'll explain the rules to you." 

Jing Yuan hummed pleasantly as he walked behind you, setting the board down onto the hard wooden flooring as the both of you sat down facing each other. 

He opened up the box and set up the game and looked at you expectantly.

There was no backing out now, so you might as well give it your best.

"It's in the name, you strip when you lose a pawn." 

"Strip entirely? Or just an article of clothing?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

You gave an exasperated sigh as you stared at him with the grumpiest expression you could muster.

"I'm afraid I don't, love."

He gave you a cat-like smile as he patiently waited for you to explain.

"...Only a piece of clothing. The one who has the most clothes off at the end of the game is the loser,"

You made yourself comfortable, you need your initial confidence back desperately.

"We'll play 3 games and see who wins. I won't be going easy on you."

You smiled at him mischievously as he chuckled and re-adjusted his seating position before looking right into your eyes.

"Very well then, let the games begin." 

You focused your eyes on the board and played your first move, positioning the soldier pawn in front of your king 2 steps ahead.

Jing Yuan’s eyes lit up as he countered it by moving the same piece on his side. He knew exactly how you were going to play and he was going to ensure he won.

The game progressed and you eventually lost your first pawn, you sighed in annoyance at the realization as you looked up to see your boyfriend with his cat-like smile and of course, he had the most innocent look on his face.

Damnit.

You sighed reluctantly as you cursed him under your breath and removed your jacket.

“Happy?” You deadpanned at him.

“Very much so. Don’t be upset, you still have a chance to win.” He smirked lazily as he waited for you to play your turn

You were more cautious now, not letting him take any of your pawns when you realized you had a safe opening to take his pawn!

You took the chance and took his soldier with your bishop. Looking up at him in triumph.

He smiled back at you casually as he raised his hands in surrender,

“You got me there,”

You watchedn him in anticipation as your mouth watered a little, sure you’d been living together for a few months now but, nothing beat seeing Jing Yuan’s body.

He place his hand on his shoulder guard and removed it before smiling at you pleasantly again.

You blinked once.

Twice.

Scanning him to see if he removed anything else while you were day-dreaming.

Nope, nothing.

"I said one piece of clothing, your shoulder brace doesn't count as one." 

"You never specified if accessories were also counted."

You huffed at him, "You never asked!" 

"I don't recall having to ask, I gave you the chance to explain everything to me." He smiled innocently again.

He was right. 

He knew he was and continued to play his next move.

Bastard.

Suddenly, it dawned on you that he was still in his armor and work uniform, meaning it would take at least 15 individual games of Starchess to get even the first layer off of him. Your eyes widened in realization as he looked at you and stifled his laughter.

Well, you certainly weren't in your work clothes and barely had anything on in the first place but you might have a few accessories on your person if you looked hard enough.

Two can play that game.

The game continued as you tried your best to defend your pieces from his attacks but he was too good… much to your displeasure.

By the end of the first game, Jing Yuan barely looked any different from how he was when he entered your shared home while you had to remove your own rings and piercings, putting them away in a corner neatly as to not lose them.

Jing Yuan won the first game by the rules of normal Starchess and the two of began your second round.

You were determined, but so was he.

Time passed rather quickly as you watched your boyfriend remove more accessories and you really wondered how he was able to walk or even fight with that much on his body.

You shook your head. Now's not the time for distractions.

The game progressed as you watched your pawns get taken one by one.

Rook, Bishop, a couple of soldiers and the list went on.

…You realized very late that you were going to lose.

You've never beat him in a game of starches, partially because he sneaks away your pieces but also because he's genuinely skilled at playing the game.

You were down to your last game, Jing Yuan in his shirt and pants along with some random trinkets of his uniform that you didn't even know the purpose of, you, however, were a different story.

You'd managed to get down just to your t-shirt and panties, shivering a little in both anticipation and the chill of the night.

“Do you need a blanket? You won't have anything to cover you soon enough, I'd hate to get you sick, dear.” Jing Yuan looked at you lazily.

Bastard.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“I'm good. This is the last game and by the look of it, you've lost more pieces than I have.”

He made a content noise in the back of his throat as if agreeing with you before looking down at the board and smiling.

“I'm afraid you are correct, I admire your confidence in the face of calamity. However,”

He moved his bishop in line with your king.

“Checkmate.” 

You glanced around the board, trying to find an escape route but there were none. 

There was no denying it, you had lost the third game as well.

But the rules were about clothes, you looked up at him and back at yourself.

“. . . Fuck.”

You sighed, reluctantly admitting defeat.

“Alright , alright. You win the 3 games and the whole game considering you have more layers on you than I do.” 

Jing Yuan smiled in amusement as he crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly,

“So, what's my reward for winning?” 

You were already packing up the board as you looked at him with a huff and stood up.

“I'll let you nap in the afternoon more tomorrow, that's your reward.” 

But before you could move your half naked self away, Jing Yuan moved closer and swiftly knocked your knees back so you toppled down onto him.

“Jing Yuan! I almost knocked the board on your head!”

You had wrapped your arms around his neck, scared to lose balance and plop onto the floor if he were to drop you.

“I'm interested in another reward.”

“What?”

“I'm the winner so isn't it natural I get to pick my reward? Besides, no proper terms were set for it when you explained the rules to me.”

“You little shit, you knew this was going to happen.”

“Dear, I am the divine foresight for a reason.” 

He chuckled as his hands slowly moved down your torso and to the hem of your t-shirt. 

He grasped the hem as he leaned into your body and spoke lowly in your ear

“Of course, if you don't want this, we could just revert to my original reward.” 

His hold on you was firm but gentle, indicating that he'd let you go if you wanted him to.

“But, something about the way you're trembling in my hold tells me you don't want to stop, do you?” 

Your breath was coming out in shaky puffs now. You simply looked away in embarrassment before he pressed himself closer to you, you could feel the warmth of his body through the clothes he was wearing.

“Answer me.” 

“. . . I don't want you to stop” 

He smiled against your ears and you swear if he had a tail it would be swishing around in excitement by now.

“That wasn't so hard, was it?” 

Kissing the red shell of your ear he moved your face towards him and kissed you deeply before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Now, allow me to claim my reward.”

He peppered kisses along your jaw as his hands finally, finally took your t-shirt up to your neck as you raised your arms to help him get it off.

You were down to your panties and bra now, coincidentally, you were wearing one of his favourite sets’.

His kisses continued downward, unbuckling your bra with one hand while the other appreciatively squeezed around your body.

He leaned down on your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth as his other hand tweaked with the other and you gasped, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

Your hands immediately found purchase in his soft hair as you closed your eyes and whispered his name.

Jing Yuan always , always made sure to lather extra attention to your chest, you never understood why but it had now become a sensitive spot for you.

He kissed and licked around your nipples, leaving little bites in between so that he can see them in the morning and fuck you all over again.

Deciding he'd done enough to your chest (for now) he moved his attention downwards, chuckling breathlessly at the small wet patch on your panties.

His large hand slid down as he started moving his finger up and down on your panties, making the wet patch grow bigger.

“You call me a bastard and yet have the nerve to be this wet for me, hm?” 

“S-Shut up.” 

You panted as your brain became fuzzy and warm, not being able to think of anything else except Jing Yuan touching you.

He smirked as he added pressure with his finger on exactly where your clit is and you gasped loudly. The fabric of your panties providing a weird but not unwelcome feeling.

“Do you think you can cum just from this alone?”

“I don't k-”

You cut yourself off with a loud moan as he pinched your clit and rubbed it.

“You don't know? Well, that's too bad. We'll just have to find out it seems, hm?”

You were gasping for air and moaning loudly at this point, thrashing and tugging at Jing Yuan’s hair like your life depended on it.

“I'm feeling nicer today, let's take this off, dear.” 

He tugged at your panties and your hazy mind cleared for a second 

“Jing Yuan! Don't I-”

A loud ripping sound echoed through the room as you stared in horror at the shredded remains of your panties but before you could utter a word, Jing Yuan kissed you and simultaneously continued to make circles around your clit.

You weakly slammed your fisted hands onto the hard planes of his chest but to no avail, he wasn't going to let up.

He continued flicking your clit at a faster pace before speaking into your ear.

“Be a good girl and cum for me”

You moaned as you clenched his (now crumpled) white shirt in your hands as your eyes rolled back and your orgasm flooded over your body in waves.

The general continued to make slow and gentle circles on your clit as you got down from your high, peppering your body with kisses and bites everywhere.

You were still breathing heavily when you regained your senses again.

“So, my hypothesis was correct.” 

“You're gonna pay for that, Yu.”.

You said, not sure if youre referring to the torn panties or the fact that him massaging your clit was enough to get you to cum.

“Of course I will, and any other matching set you like so I can rip them all off of your body.” 

His voice was so calm while speaking you'd almost think he was unaffected by the situation but that was far from the truth, sitting on his lap gave away that he was extremely hard underneath you.

He kissed you again, gently this time as he pulled back and bore his eye into yours.

“Do you want to continue?” 

You didn't respond, only leaning in to kiss him before bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt and unbuttoning it.

“I'm not the only one that's going to be naked here.” 

He helped you take off his whole shirt, watching you as you admired his sculpted and scarred torso. 

“Turn around for me, love.”

You did as you were told, sitting in his lap with your back against his chest.

His hands suddenly came up on you again, going downwards to your pussy as he outlined your lips. Pressing gently on the soft flesh.

Your hands immediately found purchase on top of his much bigger ones, your breathing picking up again.

He inserted two fingers in you, pushing them in and out and curling them in just the right spot, hitting your already frayed nerves and stretching you open for him. Keeping the rhythm of his fingers up, slowly getting you towards the edge again when suddenly,

You were left empty as Jing Yuan retracted his hand and wiped it onto his pants as he unzipped them, before hooking both his hands under your plush thighs and lifting your slit above his cock.

“Tell me if you need a break.”

Before you could respond, he was already impaling you on his cock, pushing you down slowly as you reached back with your hands and grabbed his neck while arching your back.

“F-Fuck- too much-”

“You can take it, I know you can.”

He whispered breathlessly as he continued pushing you down until you met the base of his cock.

“There we go.”

Jing Yuan waited for you to adjust while rubbing gentle circles on your clit, watching intently as you fought to gain back your breath.

You were struggling at this point, mind in a haze at the feeling of being so full. Not knowing where to place your hands you blurted our the first coherent thought that came to your mind.

“. . .Tie my hands, please.”

Now it was the general’s turn to be surprised, you were not one to beg usually. He smiled coyly as he grabbed your discarded t-shirt and rolled it up to form a makeshift knot.

“If i was aware we were going to this tonight, I wouldve prepared more.”

You pushed your hands out together in front of you impatiently, just wanting to move but not trusting your shaking legs to carry through.

Jing Yuan kissed around your ears again started working on binding your hands immediately. Securing it as tight as he could, he tugged on it before pecking you on the cheek.

“There. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

You were fully panting now, subtly grinding yourself on his cock.

Jing yuan took it as his cue to move and hooked his hands under your thighs again before lifting you off his cock.

The split second where you were left empty was enough for you to whine. He wasn’t a cruel lover, though, he thrusted back in, filling you instantly.

He kept the tempo of fast but deep strokes and before long you could feel your second orgasm approaching.

Suddenly, there was a change as he pushed you down onto the wooden floor face first and ass up, the angle making him reach in different areas.

Your tied hands were above your head as you got rubbed on the floor like a mop cloth from his powerful thrusts. Jing Yuan bent over and draped his larger frame over your back, holding down your shaking hands with one of his own and thrusting faster.

“Come on, come for me.”

He whispered into your ear, again, reaching his other hand down to play with your clit.

And that's all it took for you to orgasm, releasing over his cock as he kept his pace.

For a few seconds, you blanked out completely, caught up in the haze of your orgasm that you didn't even notice Jing Yuan continuing,

That was until you were brought back to reality by a hit of overstimulation, tears already collecting at your lashes as the pleasure soared through your entire body.

“Y-Yu-”

“Just a little more.”

He continued rubbing fast circles over your clit and you could feel the tendrils of your third orgasm creeping up on you as you clenched around him hard.

It pierced through you just as your boyfriend finally released inside you, hot liquid filling you up and you felt so full.

Jing Yuan panted as he rested some of his body weight on you, essentially pinning you in place and having no way to move. Just the way you like it.

He grabbed your hips with both his hands as he gently thrusted a few times to get the last few seconds of pleasure in, wrecking your already overstimulated pussy.

“. . . I think my reward is incomplete.” He said after a few beats of silence.

“Absolutely not.” 

Jing Yuan laughed breathlessly as he pulled you back onto his lap and rested himself against the sofa, wrapping his hands around your waist and putting his head on your shoulder.

The both of you relished in the afterglow for a bit with him still stuffed inside you, just enjoying and soaking each other’s presence, you were the first to speak.

“Horny bastard, you really piledrived me on the floor of our living room.” You laughed while pecking at his cheeks.

“Me? I’m the horny one now? You were the one that suggested this game in the first place!”

Jing Yuan feigned hurt as he tightened his hold on you, eyeing you cheekily as your ears turned red.

“I didn’t proposition sex! It was a game to-”

“To what? Play house with each other?” Jing Yuan asked in an amused tone before continuing,

“You wanted it to end like this, didn’t you?”

“Not on the goddamn floor! I’m gonna have bruises from this tomorrow, I hope you're happy.”

You pouted and held your (still bound) hands close to your chest, hearing Jing Yuan snicker and feeling his chest shake.

“I’ll give you a massage right now, on the bed this time, to make up for it”

“And then what? Escalate it into having sex again? I need to walk tomorrow, Yu.”

“You know me too well.”

You looked at him into his eyes and he simply gave you a crooked smile

“Untie my hands, we need to clean up and get to bed”

“Hmm… How about I let you go now and you let me enjoy my reward in the shower again?”

You sighed before nodding in acceptance, you weren’t going to feel your legs tomorrow.

This is the price you pay for provoking the sleeping lion.

“Horny bastard.”

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #fem!reader #god i am not your strongest soldier #i am coming up #i just need him inside me #i had to let the demons out #send help #first fic #can i even call it that #in god we trust #i hope someone finds this ok #jing yuan smut #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut

[generic-sonic-fan]

"i wish you would write a fic where..." prompt: metal in for repairs. what got it there, what does it think of eggman's treatment of it, and how does it feel about having presumably failed the mission it was on? (angst?? eggman being a good dad??? up to you!!)

Summary: Metal Sonic receives some repairs, and some advice.

1086 words

---

“Up.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik tapped the diagnostic table as he passed it on his way to gather his tools.

Metal Sonic commanded its leg to move. Its actuators grinded in response, offering one short burst of movement before stuttering. Its left leg scraped as it dragged on the ground behind it. Before it could complete the walk cycle, something snapped, and its left hip joint went limp. An attempt to balance on the remaining leg failed. An attempt to spin up its turbine to prevent collision with the floor sent a flood of error messages tumbling to the front of its processor. 

The impact darkened its visual sensors for three seconds. It used this time to dismiss the error messages. Upon regaining sight, it extended its hands across the floor ahead of it, dug its claws into the surface, and pulled. The effort of overcoming the force of friction caused its entire frame to shake. 

It grabbed onto the nearest leg of the diagnostic table. The table was manufactured out of a smooth metal, and its structure contained no additional outcroppings that could be utilized as handholds. Perhaps if it could raise its torso against the leg so it could grab the surface edge-

“Metal, that’s enough.”

Metal Sonic looked up to see its creator standing over it. He set his retrieved toolbox onto the diagnostic table, before he came around and knelt down beside it.

He placed a hand on its forehead. It had enough tactile sensors left in the region to register that much. 

“You really are perfect, aren’t you? Perfectly obedient. Hellishly determined, if I do say so myself.” He gave a small pat. “Today’s outcome wasn’t for a lack of effort, now was it?”

It found its vocalizer damaged but still responsive. It queued a negative ping, only for the noise to come out too garbled to communicate the intended meaning.

“Quiet, my boy. It’s alright.”

Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s tone was. . . unusual. As was the phrase he used. Metal Sonic searched its memory banks and found no matches for either. 

“Stay here. Don’t move, I’ll be back.”

The door closed behind him. When it opened again, joining his footsteps was the plodding of an Egg Pawn. 

“Lift him up to the diagnostic table and lay him on his back, gently.” He hissed to it. 

The Egg Pawn slid its hand beneath Metal Sonic’s frame and carried it from the ground. The Pawn laid it down on its front, before rolling it over.

“I said gently, you fool!” Dr. Ivo Robotnik slapped the Pawn's arm, kicked its shin, and pushed it away. He then shooed it out of the room with a gesture. 

He walked beside the table and began positioning Metal Sonic’s limbs to where he desired. He then opened his toolbox and began repair work. The first thing he attended to was its processor; he disappeared from visual range, and unscrewed its quill plating and its interior head paneling to reveal the delicate parts beneath. Here, Metal Sonic lost any register of tactile sensation. Dr. Ivo Robotnik existed by the suggestion of its audial sensors alone. 

“Hmm. . . only minor damage here, few snapped wires around optical processing. . .”

Its visual sensors brightened with increased resolution. Strange, it hadn’t noticed the handicap prior. Dr. Ivo Robotnik then replaced the plating he’d removed and reconnected its tactile sensors. He then tilted its head sideways and opened the access port at the nape of its neck. 

“Generate your post-action report while I work on the rest of you.” He said as he plugged in the data cable. 

Metal Sonic obeyed, and soon its internal processings scrolled up the nearby computer screen. Dr. Ivo Robotnik chose to repair its left leg first, allowing him to face the screen as well. It began the report with the simplest of data. Its speed had matched and at one point exceeded Sonic’s. Its body had been stronger and more durable. Its agility and processing speed had been superior. 

Yet it had suffered a near-complete chassis loss. 

Yet Sonic had stolen the chaos emerald away. 

It had failed, completely and utterly. It launched into a rapid-fire analysis of every frame of data it collected during the battle, attempting to sort out the reason for this outcome, only to find no pattern. It was illogical that it had failed. Its every attribute was superior. It should not have failed! 

“Oh, quit moping.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik muttered. 

Metal Sonic ceased its analysis.

“Sonic, the irritating little rodent, tends to defy all logic with his little escapades, so move on. Continue with your report.” 

That was impossible. Sonic was as much an object bound by the laws of physics as everything else was. His and its attributes were objective, quantifiable, and therefore logic could be applied-

“Believe me when I say I understand. Check the records- I’ve been in this situation countless times before.” 

Dr. Ivo Robotnik always spoke the objective and rational truth, but supplementing his statement with a quick scan of its memory banks allowed it to better grasp the concept. Indeed, its creator had been defeated by Sonic before, despite having superior technology and intelligence.

“Precisely. That’s why I say ‘there’s always next time’. Persistence and determination is my motto!” Dr. Ivo Robotnik pointed a finger into the air. “You’ll get Sonic one of these days. I have utmost confidence in your ability to do so.”

Every statement made by Dr. Ivo Robotnik was true, yet if his prior statement was also true, how could it defeat Sonic if superior attributes alone were not enough?

“Simple! You’re my technology. And my technology always triumphs. Am I clear?”

Metal Sonic gave an affirmative ping, only for its vocalizer to short out. 

“Process it. Show me you understand.”

Yes, Metal Sonic affirmed. It was superior. It would triumph because of the brilliance of the man who created it.

“Good.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik paused his work to remove the data cable from its access port. The computer screen went dark. “Now, perform a quick debug, then enter standby mode until I wake you.”

Its attention turned onto itself as it began marking files within its processor for review. It flagged one potential issue with its audial sensors. It then initiated its power-down process, shutting off its cameras and spooling down its subroutines. 

Before the process completed, it felt Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s hand on its forehead again. It recorded four words.  

“Rest well, my boy.”

#metal sonic #fanfiction #Eggman #ivo robotnik #Eggman is a good dad #!!! My first good dad Eggman fic !!! #I must admit this isn't my strongest writing but I really wanted to fill this prompt in a timely manner #this prompt is excellent and could probably generate an entire multi-chapter fic analyzing every angle of it.

[dandelion-wings]

continuing to have zero fun with IRL this weekend, but lots of fun with the sickfic:

The world blurs in and out for a while after that. Draff carries her to Springvale, she's almost certain, though she keeps feeling Kaeya's hand on her shoulder on and off. Barbara appears, her bright smile almost hiding her worry as she walks Diona and--Noelle? it must be Noelle over with Kaeya--through clearing the worst of the Dendro taint that Barbara's Hydro would react with where their elements don't. Jean has no idea where the hunter she'd rescued is, or his condition, and somehow the world slides away again every time she gets the breath to ask.

When it finally comes clear enough that she can see straight, Jean's first view is of the Cathedral’s familiar vaulted ceiling overhead. The infirmary, then. She turns her head to look for someone who can give her answers and sees Kaeya in the bed next to her, curled on his side and looking towards her.

"The hunter is fine," he says, with a smile as fond as it is wry. "He's in his own room, with Diona keeping an eye on him. Barbara promises that he'll make a full recovery."

#this is. not the first time someone has told her this. probably not the first time HE is #has* #fic excerpt #typing on my phone continues to be hell but i am barbatos' strongest warrior and i will get through this #i have the power of jean and benadryl on my side

[silveringofrose]

Dear Jamie,

I've often marvelled at how stories are much like plants; they need the right time, the right place, and the right care to truly come to life. As I pen this letter, I want to give you the gift of our story as I've lived it, loved it, and cherished it.

That first day at Bly, amidst the sprawling manor and its winding mysteries. It felt like I was lost in a world far removed from my own. An American, away from everything familiar, facing two enigmatic children and their haunted home.

It was a whirlwind of strangeness until I saw you. You were, without a doubt, the first real breath of home I felt there. Which is strange considering you are the most British woman I've ever met. And yet, there you were. Making me feel like I was finally home.

We met properly in the garden, didn't we? I was struggling to grasp the bizarreness around me, teetering on the edge of a panic attack. You, with your green fingers and that soothing voice, So calm and nonchalant like you weren't watching me drown in the storm raging through me. You just casually pulled me back with two simple words, "Alright, Poppins?"

And that was it.

You, Jamie, became my anchor at that moment. A stranger who offered me a lifeline with such a warm, kind smile, I couldn't help but hold on to it. With every passing day, I found solace in the mundane.

My constant battle with the English way of making tea always brought an amused sparkle to your eyes. I don't think I will ever quite get it right, but it's the memory of your laughter I hold dear.

The day you told me about the moonflowers, I saw another side of you. The gardener who cultivated beauty in the darkness, who understood life's fleeting moments and embraced them. You saw something precious in those transient blooms, and that's when I started seeing you - truly seeing you.

The woman whose strength was rooted in softness, whose heart held an expansive universe that nurtured everything it touched. Much like those moonflowers, Jamie, you blossomed all uninvited and quietly determined in the darkness that was my life in those days.

I think it was the stillness in your eyes, the quiet understanding that prompted me to share my ghosts with you. Edmund... he haunted my dreams, but you... you brought me back, time and again. You didn't shy away from the storm that raged within me. Instead; you became my harbour, your love my guiding light.

Our first kiss, remember? It was awkward, clumsy, so perfectly imperfect. But then came the second one. Oh, Jamie, that one was magic. Every time I close my eyes, I can still feel the softness of your lips, the tenderness in your touch, the promise of an eternity in that one moment.

When we left Bly, it felt as if we were venturing into a new world. It was a whole new country for you, and for me it was a whole new life. Yet, there was an inexplicable comfort in knowing that we were stepping into it together. The sight of you in America, grappling with the nuances of this strange new land was endearing.

It was like watching a bud gradually bloom, adjusting and adapting, resilient and unyielding, just like the plants you so lovingly nurtured. And our little plant shop, that was our dream come to life, wasn't it? A sanctuary in the midst of life's whirlwind, a place where our love, much like the plants around us, took root and flourished.

Becoming your wife, that was the beginning of the best part of my life. It wasn't just about a ring or a piece of paper; it was a promise, a vow to love and cherish you always. To share in your joys and your sorrows, your victories and your struggles. Our marriage, Jamie, is more than a testament to our love—it's a celebration of it.

The sight of Miles and Flora, living their lives freely, unburdened by the shadows of Bly, brings a sense of bittersweet peace. We had a part in that, didn't we? We gave them a chance to escape, to live. Their happiness, their freedom, is a testament to our shared journey at Bly, a poignant reminder of the sacrifice made, and the love we found.

So, Jamie, as you read this letter, remember the story it tells. Remember our story. The shared sunrises and the moonlit talks, the laughter over morning tea, and the silent moments of shared understanding. Remember the way we danced around our feelings until we found the courage to confront them. Remember our journey, Jamie, remember our love.

In you, Jamie, I found my home, my solace, my heart. You taught me the beauty of living, of letting go of the past and embracing the present. You helped me see the world through a different lens, one that held beauty even in the darkest corners. You, Jamie, are my moonflower.

As I pen these final words, I want you to know that no matter where life takes us, no matter what roads we travel, I will always carry you with me. You will forever be a part of me, a part of my story, a part of my heart.

And remember, Jamie, even though we may not be always in the same place, our love will endure. For it is not bound by time or distance, but held together by memories, by moments, by a bond that defies the ordinary. Our love is our story, Jamie, and it's a story I wouldn't change for the world.

So this is not goodbye, although it might seem like it is by the time you read it. This is my promise that you will never be alone. That I am not gone. This is my I'll be waiting, and soon.

With all the love in my heart, always,

Dani

#please don't @ me about inconsistencies #I've never actually watched the show #but between tumblr #twitter #my friend #youtoube #and ao3 #I feel like I have a pretty good idea of their story #so anyways #this is my attempt at the goodbye that Dani never got to say to Jamie #this is also my first ever attempt at fan fic #so please be gentle #I hope I treated these women with the respect they deserve #it was never a ghost story #nor was it a love story #it was a moment of eternity #captured in too few years #Dani is the strongest bravest woman #just like someone else I know #the haunting of bly manor #thobm #jamie x dani #dani x jamie #dani clayton #jamie taylor #wlw #fan fic #silver writes fan fic #silver writes #SilveringOfRose

[helloamhere]

whenever i read your fics, I’m always struck by how your writing is so so effortless!! like the banter and convo flow spectacularly, and nothing is superficial…im in awe. not sure if you’re still writing fic, but i genuinely hope to read more of your work in the future x much love!

Thank you 😭 I think the actual writing itself ultimately is effortless in that I try to only share things that have JOY in them for me...this also makes me laugh in a very good way because GETTING to the writing part is so extremely full of effort lol. I am SO pleased that it strikes you this way, banter and depth together, it is everything that I aim for. It really means a lot to me that it feels this way to you! Thank you for sharing!! Re: writing I deeply miss fic and do really want to be writing it more, but lately I have been working on some Real Life Big Writing Projects and lord, it eats up my time and my brain. I finished two manuscripts over this winter and I have no idea if either of them are good, but I had to step away from fic life to really give it a shot. I am embarrassed by how slowly I write original fiction compared to fic, but SUCH IS LIFE and we persevere. Thank you for asking and caring. I would be really surprised if you didn't find random fic from me dumping onto AO3 when you least expect it. I have quite a few long WIP docs and there could just be a free weekend someday where I decide to roll one of them up into an actual fic and share :).

#the strongest contender for this might be the fic of bad feelings #you people are so infinitely kind #writing thoughts #the life and times of helloamhere #I don't know if anyone wants my dumb speculative fiction attempt at a first novel lol but hey I put words down into a thing that's long so #that's more than not doing that

[sanhaoche]

writing fic is so hard what the hell

#baby's first attempt! it's going painfully! #all you fic writers out there i love you i respect you i support and salute you god's strongest warriors and my personal heroes #tmi

[ranger-kellyn]

Part of me wants to try to watch the anime again if nothing else just to get my Diantha crumbs, but at the same time. I just kNOW I’m gonna get mad.

Saw my friend say she’s up against Lance and like. If she fucking loses to LANCE when her ace is a fucking fAIRY TYPE………

#anyways back to my writing universes where I make Diantha the strongest champion alongside Cynthia #my girl gets paid DUST in the games and the anime (masters is hard to argue bc it’s such it’s own thing) #the least I can do is make her a powerhouse in my own works lmao #anyways fun little thing for my fic Getway Car: #I had a full team battle between her and Cynthia drafted #which was going to end in a draw but Cynthia was going to point out that Diantha actually Threw the match #’’if you had used mega evolution you would have won’’ #but Diantha was going to be coy about it which would lead into some of their first ‘relationship tension’ #but I never had a proper resolution so I scrapped it #talking tag

[justanotherfanwriter]

one last hope

summary: the day Maka asked Soul to be her partner; soul eater one-shot

a/n: I love these kids, and I really wish we knew how they first met! Anyway, falling head first back into soul eater, so here’s my take! First time writing them, so please forgive any OOC-ness 😊 I want to write Star and Soul’s first meeting now, so hey, maybe this will be a little series. If you read this, let me know what you think, I'm sure the fandom’s dead by now, but those are my favorite fandoms, so I don’t mind!!

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"It's too bad you're not a demon weapon, Black*Star," Maka mused, reading over the informational pamphlets, "everything would be easier if you were."

Black*Star sputtered, stumbling a bit as he fell behind her. Almost instantly, he was back at her side, yelling just as he was prone to, "Me! The Weapon!? No way, I'm the star here, okay? I'm front and center! I thought you were smart—" He jabbed a finger in her face, "—you'd be the weapon!"

Maka rolled her eyes, snapping the pamphlet shut and swatting his hand away, "And what makes you think that? News flash, block-head, its brain over brawns, remember? Being a meister is more complex than throwing a few measly punches."

"Measly!" Black*Star gasped in offense, blocking her path as she tried to turn a corner, "You think my punch—" He sputtered, before squaring his shoulders and standing as tall as the shrimp could go, "—I challenge you!" Again, he jabbed his pointer finger right in her face, pushing the tip of her nose straight up, "Meet me in the courtyard, and I'll show you just how measly—"

"No," She glared, swatting his hand away, "I don't have time to entertain you today, Black*Star. I've got other things to take care of."

Maka sidestepped her childhood best friend—though, he always loathed admitting it—and continued on her way.

"No?" Black*Star scoffed, keeping pace with her, "You can't say no! That's against the rules!"

She shrugged, eyes on the lookout for a particular someone, "Fighting without a teacher is against the rules. Refusing to fight, however, is not."

There was a flash of white out of her peripheral, and she whipped around, ignoring Black*Star as he whined. Her breath caught in her throat for a second, but she let it out in one big irritated huff as the flash of white had only been someone's jacket.

"Hey!" Black*Star snapped, pulling her by a pigtail, "Pay attention to me while I'm talking!"

"Ow, Star! Stop!" She hissed, kicking at his shins and pulling on his cheeks in retaliation, "I'm busy. Go find someone else to fight!"

Black*Star let go of her hair and glared, crossing his arms over his thin chest. Of course, Maka already knew he didn't have someone else to fight with outside of Mr. Sid. Black*Star didn't have any other friends besides her, which was admittedly okay because Maka didn't have any other friends either.

"And why," He sniffed, glancing down at the E.A.T. pamphlets in her hands, "are you so busy all the sudden, huh?"

She and Black*Star had just been released from their final class of the day, and usually, afterward—if Black*Star hadn't gone and picked a fight or landed himself in detention—they headed down to McDeathies for an afterschool snack. It was a little mom-and-pop place that only Death City Locals, like her and Star, had the privilege of knowing. Today, though, impassioned by their last meister-specific lecture hall, Maka had other plans.

Big plans.

Plans that this time wouldn't backfire.

Maka smiled at Black*Star, determination gleaming from her very soul as she presented to him the pamphlets in her hands, "I'm going to find a demon weapon to partner with!"

Black*Star didn't look impressed. Instead, with a bored sigh, he stuck a finger in his ear and scratched. "Yeah," he drawled, "sure you are."

She pouted, "I am. For real this time."

"For your sake, maybe I should just become a death weapon," He mused, tapping a finger to his chin in thought, "Can't be that hard, can it?"

"You can't act like this! You don't have a partner either, and you can't just—" Maka snapped, gesturing wildly, "—become a death weapon! That's not how it works!"

"Sure, I can!" Black*Star boosted, "Ha! Petty mortals like yourself can't even begin to fathom what I'm capable of! I'm bigger than the gods!" He threw his head back, hands on his hips, and laughed, and while he was distracted cackling, she made her getaway.

Two hallways later, Maka looked over her shoulder, satisfied that she had lost the obnoxious meathead in the crowd. Then, with a content huff, she looked back down at the glossy papers in her hands with reverence.

A meister-weapon partnership was required to enter the E.A.T. program, and not the basic partnerships a person formed during practice lessons, a strong one—a partnership worth fighting for!

Her mother had done it, and she would too, even if the process had been rougher going than she had first anticipated. Apparently, Maka had a habit of coming on a little too strong when pursuing potential partners. Not as strong as Black*Star, thank Death, but still, a little too strong.

Demon Weapons were the ones who ultimately decided whether a partnership was feasible or not, and that was where all her problems lay: the concept of free will. But none of her past weapon-wooing failures would come back to haunt her today! She just knew it. Today would be different.

It simply had to.

With a renewed pep in her step, Maka turned the next corner, and immediately, ran straight into someone. Stunned by the sudden collision, she hit the floor with a loud thump.

"Oh gosh," She exclaimed, "I'm sorry—" the apology died on her tongue, "—how did you find me so quickly?"

Black*Star, again, threw back his head and laughed, jabbing a finger in her face, "Like I'd ever explain to the likes of you the way of the ninja!" Then his laughter came to an abrupt halt, and his head snapped back forward, revealing dark eyes and an ugly scowl, "So, stop fucking ditching me when I'm in the middle of monologuing."

"Get over yourself," Maka deadpanned, launching Black*Star into another long-winded speech. She rolled her eyes, settling in for his time-consuming charades, when another flash of white caught her attention.

This time, she didn't get her hopes up as she turned to investigate. There had already been too many false starts for her heart to take another one, but still, she looked.

And then, she gasped.

Because there he was.

Without thinking, she pulled Black*Star around the corner of the hall to hide, cutting his speech short, much to his chagrin.

"Hey!" He yelled, but she shushed him, "Be quiet!"

"What gives!" He shouted, ignoring her.

"Aren't ninjas supposed to be quiet?" She whisper-hissed.

Black*Star glowered back at her, but by some grace of goodwill, he whispered (as much as he possibly could, which wasn't much) back, "Don't tell me about ninjas! I tell you about ninjas!"

"Shush, shush, look!" She nodded her head, peeking around the corner, "There!"

Black*Star poked his head around the corner above hers, smashing her head down lower with his hand. She swatted at him, but he was too busy looking around to pay her any kind of attention. "What the hell am I looking for?" He asked in his not-actually-a-whisper whisper.

"There," Maka pointed at the white-haired new boy, rifling through his locker. "Soul Eater," She clarified, trying his name out loud for the first time. It was a stage name, obviously, but Maka didn't have the kind of access she needed to find out his real name. Unfortunately, her papa's access card only seemed to get her so far in the library, nowhere else. It didn't matter, though; she liked the weight of his stage name on her tongue regardless.

"Ugh, that new guy," Black*Star stuck out his tongue, ducking behind the corner once more. He crossed his arms and let his back slide down the wall until he was sitting square on the floor, "That guy thinks just because he has fancy hair, he's soooo cool—bleh—cool my ass—"

"He's a scythe," Maka whispered, unable to mask the hope in her voice as she stared the new kid down, unwilling to take her eyes off him for even a second.  

Black*Star's eyes widened, "For real?"

She nodded.

"Shit," Black*Star whispered, actually, honest-to-death whispered, "what are the chances? Alburn, you better get on that."

A smile stretched across her face. Black*Star was the only person she knew who actually understood why this was so important to her and how very much the odds were stacked against her favor.

At DWMA, demon weapons outnumbered meisters to what felt like a billion to one. A majority of those demon weapons had no interest in pursuing the E.A.T. curriculum. This statistic was in direct contrast to the interests of the school's potential meisters, outside, of course, the select few oddballs attending DWMA to suppress their soul perception.

That meant competition for E.A.T. partnerships was fierce. Most potential meisters didn't make it—not because of their grades or lack of skills, but because no demon weapon would take them. Maka was determined not to be one of those meisters.

But unfortunately, Maka wanted to be a scythe-meister like her mother, and while demon scythes happened to be the stereotypical favorite of Lord Death, they were far and few in-between, making Maka's pool of potential partners even smaller.

Currently in attendance at DWMA, there were only eleven demon scythes in total. Two of those demon scythes were already E.A.T. students. From the get-go, Maka hadn't even considered them options. It was taboo to break up a partnership, and Maka wasn't her papa—she didn't cheat. The following eight scythes had all made it perfectly clear to her in one way or another that they would not be pursuing E.A.T. courses. And, finally, there was the new kid, Soul Eater. He was Maka's last hope if she wanted to meet the E.A.T. application deadline for next year.

Which she very much did.

Soul Eater had transferred into DWMA halfway through the semester, but they didn't have any classes together. N.O.T-wise, he was a grade above her, but that meant nothing in the E.A.T. program. She had only learned of his existence when she had overheard two girls gossiping about him in the gym locker room. Two hours later, and after a little snooping, Maka had memorized his whole course schedule.

Now, there he was, and her stomach wouldn't stop doing backflips. With so many rejections under her belt, she had been hesitating a whole week to do this, but she no longer had any more time to spare. According to school gossip, a few potential meisters were circling him, and she knew she had to make a quick, desperate move before anyone else did.

Maka took a deep breath and slowly let it out, steeling her nerves. Then, with a determined nod to herself, she knew there was no going back. It was now or never, and Maka didn't fancy herself a coward.

"Wish me luck," She spoke over her shoulder, and a hand clapped down on her back. She spared a quick look at Black*Star, who, with a broad smile, gave her a thumbs up, "If he says no, just give me the signal, and I'll beat his ass."

"Hopefully, that won't be necessary," She snorted, "but don't worry—" she stood dusting the dirt off her knees, "—I'll definitely keep your offer in mind."

"You got a game plan this time?" He asked, standing with her, "Or are we just going in balls deep?"

Maka hit the inside of her hand with her fist and squared her shoulders, "Balls deep."

"Fuck yeah!" Black*Star pumped a fist in the air, "Ninth times the charm!"

Maka nodded, soaking up his confidence and turning back toward Soul, "Here I go!"

"Yeah!" Black*Star cheered.

"Any second now!" Make cheered back.

"Yea—" Black*Star's cheer flattered, "—wait?"

"Yep, so close." Maka continued, "I'm going to go over there, and it's totally going to happen!"

"Ugh," Black*Star groaned, "Don't be a pussy—" He pushed her hard on the back, making her stumble around the corner, "just go!"

She let out a small 'eep' as she slid across the hallway, trying her hardest to save her footing. She nearly slammed Soul into his locker, coming an inch close, before catching herself.

He jumped and spun around, popping a headphone out of his ear in shock, "Yo, watch it!"

"Sorry!" She tried to placate, "I—uh, hi! You're new, right?" She stuck out her hand, "I'm Maka!"  

Generally, Maka loved new students. It gave her a chance to gab without end about DWMA, Death City, and just about everything she ever loved in this world, but right then, looking at Soul, she wished the stakes weren't so high, that he wasn't so new.

He looked her up and down before tentatively taking her hand, "Soul. Soul Ev—Eater. Soul Eater."

"I know," She smiled, "the scythe weapon."

"Uh, yeah," He shrugged, "guess so, but I don't like to think of myself as an object."

She laughed a little louder than necessary and then cringed because he definitely wasn't laughing, so that definitely hadn't been a joke.

"Oh, yeah, no," Maka tried to correct her mistake, "I wouldn't like that either."

"Mhm," He agreed, looking down at his iPod. While he was distracted, she looked back at Black*Star, who gave her a supportive wave, and another thumbs up. She tried to make her smile a little brighter, but her heart wouldn't stop trying to jump out of her mouth.

Suddenly, without taking an eye off his music, Soul spoke up, "You're the wannabe scythe-meister, right?"

"Maka," She corrected without missing a beat, very much used to this line of questioning, "and not a wannabe. I am."

"That's funny," Soul Eater drawled, dragging his surprisingly vibrant ruby-colored eyes up to meet hers, "cause last time I checked, you needed a scythe to be a scythe-meister."

"Then you understand the tiny little predicament I've found myself in," Maka chirped, trying not to let her irritation show (what a know-it-all) and keeping the conversation light, "I'm looking for a scythe."

Mentally, she smacked herself. She had tried being the opposite of coming on "too strong," but Soul's flippant attitude had pulled it right out of her. She had a feeling she had fallen right into some kind of trap.

"Yeah, the rest of them warned me about you." He sniffed through a yawn, rolling his shoulders, revealing just for a moment his full height—still smaller than her, but taller than she had expected—before slouching again.  

"The rest of them?" She echoed, hoping he didn't notice the sweat dripping down her forehead as she thought back to every other scythe weapon she had cornered at this school.

"Mhm," He nodded, raising an eyebrow at her, "and they said I needed to be nice to you about wasting my time, but I'm from the East Coast, alright, and we don't beat around the bush there, so—"

"—wasting's kind of a harsh word—" she muttered, but he ignored her.

"—Just to be straight with you, I don't know if I'm into the whole E.A.T. thing, right? So far, I've got it pretty good going with the N.O.T. route, and I've already got this guy I've been partnering with during practice lessons. He's in the same boat as me about the E.A.T. classes, so you know, whatever you're offering," Soul sniffed and shrugged, shaking his head, "no thanks."

With that, Soul shoved his hands into his ugly yellow and black jacket pockets, turning away on the heels of his shoes. Maka stared open-mouthed after him, watching her one last shot at all her hopes and dreams disappear when something inside her snapped. She wouldn't let a broody little know-it-all ruin her hopes and dreams. No one could out know-it-all her! She was Maka Alburn! Know-it-all was practically her middle name.

This kid didn't know who he was messing with, but he would soon. She wouldn't let him say no. Not this time. Quickly, she caught up to him as he made his way down the steps of the main DWMA stairway. He took them two at a time, but that was no trouble for her. She could take these steps three at a time when she wanted to.

"Okay, then, Mr. East Coast, you don't like beating around the bush, so I won't do it." She kept in step with him, following as he led them into Death City, "I saw you the other day when some of the E.A.T. reps performed in your class's practice lessons. I saw it with my own two eyes just how interested you actually are."

"Are you stalking me?"

"Stay on topic," She snapped, pulling on his arm and stopping him from walking any further, "You read the pamphlets, you listened to what they had to say, and you were interested. I know because I saw it in your eyes—" She took a page out of Black*Star's book and jabbed a finger in his direction, pointing it right where his heart would be, "—in your very soul."

His eyes widened for a moment, eyebrows darting behind the loose hair of his bangs before his expression fell back into apathy.

"Compelling argument." He snorted, "tell me, did you rehearse that one in the mirror?"

She dropped her arm back to her side with a glare, hoping it was as intimidating as she willed it to be.

"Even if I did," She spoke through gritted teeth, "does it make it any less true?"

They stood together, silently, taking the other in almost as if for the first time. Maybe, actually, for the first time. Soul Eater stared at her like he was making an assessment, and Maka couldn't even be offended because she was doing the same.

His hair was thick and white, mostly held off his face with a patched headband. One patch was just a block of text that read "Soul." She wondered briefly about his real first name and whether he had chosen the rather cliché stage name because he was at DWMA. His eyes captured her attention next. Their natural droop gave him a relaxed, sleepy look, and she wondered if his personality matched. If it did, she feared their souls would never connect. She was too…ambitious for a sleepy person. Then, her gaze fell to his mouth.

If she led any other life, her gaze falling to his mouth would have been embarrassingly romantic, which she was neither interested in nor had the time to entertain. But she didn't lead any other life, she led the life of a meister, and he was a weapon, and sharp teeth on a bladed weapon were rare and very good. The demon blood in him was strong; if she were lucky, it also meant he had a natural knack about him. The sharp set of teeth must have just grown in; he still seemed uncomfortable with them, perpetually letting his mouth hang open slightly agape.

Sporting an ugly jacket and baggy pants, Maka concluded Soul Eater was a diamond in the rough. Hiding behind those sleepy eyes was a weapon of great potential, and great potential was precisely what she needed. Maka could deal with sleepy. She could deal with the know-it-all cool boy attitude. Whether this Mr. East Coaster liked it or not, this Ms. Nevadian would not be deterred.

"You said your name was Maka, right?" He hummed, breaking the silence with a tilt of his head, seemingly coming to a decision over whatever mental assessment he had made of her, just as she had with him.

"Alburn. Maka Alburn." She smiled, clasping her hand behind her back, "And you're Soul Eater. Stage name, right? A little too on the nose for someone who doesn't want to be in the E.A.T. program, don'tcha think?"

An actual smirky smile stretched across his face as he shrugged, "What can I say? I've got a sense of humor."

"I like it," She smiled back, "it fits you."

"You don't even know me."

She turned away from him on her heels and continued on their path deeper into Death City, "Don't have to. I just know—" She tapped her head, "—I'm smart like that."

It was a gamble, walking away from him like that because he could have just let her walk away, rambling to herself, and she would have been none the wiser, but he didn't.

"You gonna ask me what my real name is?" He fell in step with her, watching from the corner of his eye. She looked over at him, saw the way he hunched into himself, and shook her head.

"I won't lie, I'm curious, but I've lived in Death City all my life. There are certain things you just don't do, and if a weapon doesn't want to give up their name? Then," she shrugged, "well, that's their business."  

Visibly, he relaxed, "I don't think I've found one thing I don't like about this City—" He paused with a scowl, "—well, the stipend is shit, and the dorms fucking suck, but the City? Not so bad."

"I live off campus," She explained, "but I've heard stories."

"Lucky you," he sighed, "so, you've been here all your life?"

"Death Child, born and raised," She said, quickly allowing herself to fall into the more comfortable topic of conversation, "I know just about everything you need to know about this place!" She leaned in with a whisper, "So, take it from me, skip Deathbucks, and go right to Uncle Bob's for coffee. His stuff can make the dead dance."

Soul snorted, "okay, noted, but is everything about this place, uh, morbidly focused on death?"

"Hey, every second is one closer to death, right? We just embrace it here," She chirped. "We do live in the belly of the beast, so to speak. I mean," she wrinkled her nose, "you are going to DWMA."

"Yeah, well, mostly, I'm here because I don't want to slice off anyone's head by accident. Kinda trying to do the opposite of death and dying." He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, "That's why I want to stick with the NOT track."

"The E.A.T. track does all of that, too," She argued while still trying to keep her tone light and conversational. "In fact, I'd say the E.A.T. track is even more dedicated to the opposite of death and dying," She explained, finger quoting what he had just said.

He gave her a very dry, self-explanatory look, and Maka laughed.

"Okay, just hear me out," She threw up her hands in mock surrender, "The souls on Lord Death's List are a lot worse for the world left alive than reaped. The E.A.T. track is dedicated to hunting those potential future Kishin down, saving more lives from 'death and dying in the process. Sure, death is present, but we'd be contributing more to the safety of living."

"I'm not much of a philanthropist," Soul yawned, scratching his ear, "got anything else before I bail?"

"You could become a Death Scythe used by Lord Death himself!" Make tried desperately, "A literal hero! That's… that's cool, isn't it? Come on, I mean, a Death Scythe!? You'd be set for life, you'd never have to live in the shadow of another person ever again, you'd be on top—" She turned to face him, walking backward through the alleyway they had found themselves in, "—people would look up to you!"

Soul's lips pressed into a thin line, and he slowed until they were stopped entirely, mulling over what she had told him. Eventually, he let out a low hiss and quickly raised a finger to his mouth, hooking the corner and pulling his cheek away from his teeth. Bloody spit drooled out of his mouth, and he wiped it away with the back of his other hand.

"No shadows, huh?" He said around his fingers, and she nodded enthusiastically, glad she had found an angle he was interested in.

"Of course," She clapped, "they have told you about Death Scythes, haven't they? You become the eyes and ears of Lord Death. It comes with a considerable amount of perks, political influence, there's a timeshare down in the Bahamas, company car and gas, good medical insurance, connections to top divorce attorneys—"

"—And what's in it for you?" He (thankfully) interrupted her. "Why do you want to do this?"

"Because," She stood a little taller, a little prouder, "I have something to prove. My mama made a Death Scythe, and I will too, one far more powerful than," she scowled, "…than him." She took a deep breath, shoved her papa to the recesses of her mind, and plastered a smile back onto her face, "And you've got it, Soul, I can see it—" she tapped the side of her head again, "—you've got the makings of something great."

Soul's eyebrows stitched together, and he squeezed past her, continuing down the alley. She followed after him, almost unable to ignore the pounding of her heartbeat or the sweat pooling underneath her arms. Had she said something wrong? This couldn't go wrong.

"You're desperate." Soul finally said out loud, "I'm your last shot, right? I know there are no other scythes at school. Of course, you see something in me."

"Good point," She conceded and pointed to her mouth, "but I'm serious. It's in your teeth. If a weapon's powerful enough, they manifest certain characteristics. I always had a good feeling about you, but this solidifies it."

"Yeah, and how do you know that?" Soul asked, giving her a weary look.

She beamed, "I already told you; I've lived here all my life. I was raised by demon weapons. My mom is a meister! I have soul perception, duh. Creating death scythes is practically written into my D.N.A."

"And you seriously think you can make me a Death Scythe?"

"One hundred percent."

Soul stopped outside a small store that even she, Maka, Death City resident since birth, hadn't known about. A neon sign depicting a piano hung from one of the store's windows, blinking on and off. The blue and red colors of the sign danced together in the white of Soul's hair. He stared at her for a good moment, his hand resting heavily on the door handle before he spoke again, "And if our souls don't resonate?"

"They will," She gave him a grave nod of her head, "They simply have to."

One eyebrow quirked up in interest, but his facial features betrayed little else. Maka stood under his stare with her shoulders squared, trying her hardest to keep an amiable smile on her face. She wanted so badly to point out how much time he was wasting for an east coaster, but she knew the ball was in his court, not hers. It was him or nothing, and she couldn't become a meister wielding nothing, so she sucked it up and waited.

"We'll see," He finally spoke, breaking the heavy silence, and with his head, gestured to the door they stood in front of, "follow me if you're serious. If not," he shrugged, "whatever."

Maka didn't hesitate.

#soul eater #maka albarn #soul eater evans #black*star #se soma #soma #first fic for the fandom #side note isnt it funny that spirit--a pathetic lil guy--is canonically considered one of the strongest death scythes???

[lightlycareless]

lmao i don’t agree much with that comment, like we’re all allowed our own opinions but i guess i’d get it more if the story was a shorter one but it’s obviously not going to be (which i love) and y/n is coming from a pretty sheltered background from my understanding.. like 🤷‍♀️ i’ve loved the pacing so far of the story and with the events that y/n has been through since coming to the estate i find shes been handling it the best she can rn. ofc she didnt come to the estate being a mastermind????

Heya anon!! Thank you for sending an ask 🥺❤️

I'm super happy you're liking the story so far hehe, so buckle up cause we still got more to go through!!

Also, I literally just posted my response to that comment when I got this ask lol so I'm not sure if you got to see my insight on their opinion (which you're more than welcome to read it :3) but if you have, just ignore this part hehe

More stuff under the cut, cause it's somewhat long I'm sorry I guess I'm just venting hahah

I don't want to go ahead and say that this person was ill-intended, of course not! Everyone is entitled to their opinions at the end of the day and I'm grateful they feel comfortable enough to share their thoughts with me, but their comment just reminded me of the whole Padme didn't love her children discourse in the SW fandom.

It's kind of the same misogynistic mentality where they expect the woman to kind of just... forget their individualism and offer their entire life for the good of others (Luke and Leia for Padme — Mai, Mai, the staff and I guess even Naoaki for Y/N) while the men get a pass, you know?

Like, Padme saw the love of her life turn to the dark side and all that she fought for (the republic) basically disappear, things that would obviously affect her physically and mentally, and yet, there's people that call her a bad mother/person because she died (NOT LIKE SHE WAS CHOKED BY HER HUSBAND WHILE HEAVILY PREGNANT BUT OK). I'm just like damn, she is entitled to her own suffering you know? And it's not like she gave her life away for the greater good of the republic but go off.

To expect Y/N to be some kind of activist/martyr is unfair to her own duel—and while there are victims that have taken their experiences as some kind of motivation to speak for those who can't, it's just... not realistic to expect all victims to be capable of standing for themselves. If I were to meet someone like Y/N, I would offer her my support, instead of demand her to do shit for others just because she allegedly can. (guess we forgot Naoya basically blocked her from the outside world and the rest of the estate too 🤔 oh, and the execution too 😒)

And yes, she was raised in a sheltered household thanks to the efforts of her close relatives (who knew how fucked up the world is out there) as well as just turning 18 before getting married. Like, she hasn't experienced the world, you know? However, this is actually something I plan to explore a bit more in the next chapters so that's all I'm going to say about it hahaha.

Besides... in a society as sexist as the ones we've seen in the fictional world of jujutsu kaisen (as well as in real life) women more often than not, just held titles out of formalities and the power they held is nothing compared to their male counterparts.

Rest assured, if it were that easy, Y/N would've done it:

She's already demonstrated that she cares about her surroundings and is less than thrilled on how the Zen'in men behave (Fuyue, the servant she saved from Meiko, how she was cognizant enough to separate the acts of her husband from Naoaki, thus, starting to develop a friendship between the two, understanding Mariya's POV as well as how it was illogical of her to expect her staff to drop everything to help her when they had their own problems to worry about, THE APPRECIATION OF JUNKO, THE MOTHER OF MAI AND MAKI) but she's also deserving of nice things!!!

This story has been really difficult to write in that sense, but in the end, just shows how certain stories aren't always smooth sailing.

p.s. imagine if she was the mastermind tho? y/n be like "I made Naoaki and Naoya my bitches so the Zen'in clan will be mine!!"

Also, it's fiction. Not everything has to be super realistic. Just sit back and enjoy the show 😎✨ after all, we still have the rest of the story to go through.

And to live through the wise words of Valentina:

#ask #ask series: first it hurts— #I appreciate all opinions #but i just wanted to put this out there #also #why is it always the reader/naoya fics where people expect reader to like singlehandedly change the whole zen'in clan? #its a nice thought #but not realistic #it's very... emotional taxing #not even gojo #who is the strongest most influential character in the whole series #can do much on his own lol

[bearseungmin]

READER’S FAVS INTERACTIVE EVENT

use this form — anonymously tell me your favorite works of mine, along with various fanfiction information particular to yourself and help show me what I can improve on for my writing! the form is kind of long btw, but please consider filling it out to give me feedback! <3

© bearseungmin 2022.

#the way i keep deleting drafts the last two days? first my bday fic and then this post? huh #tumblr's refresh system after you delete something sucks bc it moves up and then when you delete the wrong thing it's like byeeeee #anyways yes please fill out this form if you can and want to because it tells me my strongest works and also what everyone expects from me #so i can do the opposite and freak everyone the fuck out #kidding #<3

[insert-current-obsession-here]

I’ve officially read every Harrow/Ianthe fic on ao3… should I even bother with fanfic.net? I’m so desperate for more stories about my favorite icky gal pals SOS

#this is a call for help #the locked tomb #Harryanthe #pls recommend me some fics #this is the first real time that my favorite ship isn’t the *main* pairing #how do y’all survive like this? #i am not gods strongest soldier

[waywardsalt]

for the zelda ask game: 🎭😔👊⛩️

🎭 When you play Zelda games, do you imagine being Link yourself, or is Link a separate character to you? Basically, are you Link, or is Link a separate character?

I always consider Link to be his own separate character. There's juuust enough to him most games that he has his own character, and I'm not usually one to go full self-insert with video game characters unless that's what the game is really going for. So I generally consider him to be his own separate character.

😔 Least Favorite Zelda character?

Hhhmmmmmmm normally I would say Jolene (and i think she was my answer for a similar ask game a few years ago) but I'm trying to get myself to at least somewhat appreciate her so it would be kind of counterproductive to say it's her. But it's Jolene.

👊 Favorite Zelda Villain/Boss?

Yeah no Bellum is my favorite Zelda villain... also my favorite boss! I think he's a silly little thing and a lot of fun to think wayyyy to hard about and I really like the variety between the three segments of his extended fight, plus just on a story level his whole fight is really cool. I would normally say I wish more was done with him but I can make do with crumbs so it's fine actually. I kind of want a little plushie of him.

⛩️ Favorite Zelda Dungeon/Location?

Hm... it's hard to decide on just one favorite dungeon, I've always been fond of albw's dungeons and both oot and mm have really good dungeons, but I think I'd have to pick the fire sanctuary from Skyward Sword. I really like sksw's dungeons a lot, and the fire sanctuary especially just... looks really nice and is fun to spend time figuring out. I think it's the one I enjoy the most, while the others are just fine or have some snag to them. With locations, I’m a fan of albw’s Hyrule and Lorule, and Clock Town is probably my favorite town in the entire series.

#asks #doomed-era #salty talks #loz #legend of zelda #very phantom hourglass brained but sksw also owns me in a sense. big fan of control schemes that everyone else hates #not gonna tag games or anything this took me long enoguh so maybe ill be quick in tags? likely not #genuinely struggled to think of any other loz characters i actively dislike beyond a little eh i dont like em #cuz either i just dont really care? or i generally like em jolene might be the only loz character i genuinely cannot stand #its that combo of annoying game mechanic and character traits/personality/whatever thats just like. man i dont enjoy this at all #anyways. i think the general control scheme of sksw and the fact that i tend to play standing up helps me enjoy the dungeons a lot more #also they just are really cool. i love albw's dungeons sm and oot + mm dungeons are incredible but ough sksw #ph is fine lol. as much as i love it the dungeons are eh theyre serviceable theyre fine #i think some loz characters i kinda dont like are like. botw/totk link (oversaturation and totk taints everything it touches for me) that #one creep by gerudo town in botw/totk mayyyybe tingle but thats nothing new uuhhhh. god i dont really have any i dont like #cuz like with botw/totk none of the characters get enough screentime for me to give much of a shit #and for the other games i generally like all of the characters? its the fuckin. ph tunnel vision i have the strongest feelings abt ph #i do like the temple of the ocean king. and a minor location i like is that one island with the fairy upgrade spring thing #its a neat little island. and link just has too much going on w/ his place in the story and whatever that hes his own thing for me #also like. as. a fic writer. i kind of have to view link as his own separate character anyways #skyward sword scratches an itch in my brain i love the gameplay sm. i also really love its visual style its a nice game to look at #oot and mm are just like. good??? i replayed oot recently and ofc its fucks but i need to replay mm so bad i dont think ive ever replayed i #im just extremely fond of albw since its the first loz game i actually finished and i just spent a lot of time with it while younger

[yumeurl]

thinking about the way draco introduces himself from first book to the last

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." (PS, ch. 6)

vs

“I’m Draco Malfoy, I’m Draco, I’m on your side!” (DH, ch. 32)

maybe im just reading too much into it, but him using his first name to refer to himself in the end rather than his family name speaks sm to me. and i know this is when he was trying to convince a death eater that hes on their side, which tbh is kinda weird already considering out of all the students, he has the dark mark, and even if the malfoys are treated like a joke rn on the DE's side they havent Exactly betrayed voldy yet, just failed at their jobs, why would draco need to convince the guy that hes one of them? and not even trying to use his family name like he did before?

its such a subtle change but shows clearly the changes he went thru under those 7 years

#no i havent read dh yet i just saw this during the time i was going thru the pdf lol #also ik its bc jkr doesnt want the readers to be confused with lucius and draco so draco is referred to by his first name #but after reading fics it just sounds gay af #also i love this boy sm #i will not hold it against anyone esp a teenager #who has been raised as if the bs he was fed was true the whole time #with barely anyone to make him think otherwise #EXCEPT HIMSELF #and i think thats one of the strongest shit ever #at his core he finds all the violence uncomfortable and hes even ashamed that he doesnt enjoy it #like yes hes still a snotty piece of shit #but idt he deserves that much vitriol nor punishment #as if hes not a teenager like harry #and as if he didnt realize that the shit drilled into his head are wrong #FUCK why do i say sm in the tags #hp #draco

[sttoru]

‘if there’s anyone in this world who loves being a girl dad the most, it must be your husband — gojo satoru.’

☀︎｜tags. girl dad!gojo x female reader. fluff. you’re married. reader gets called ‘mama, sweetheart’. wrote this at work so not beta read. fic one out of two for satoru’s birthday!

giggles fill the living room — familiar laughter that sounded like your daughters’. a more sultry and manly voice also resonates in the background. one that you could recognise from miles away.

your curiosity leads you to investigate the source of the joyful sounds and soon enough, you find your dear husband and daughters sitting on the couch. though, in a situation you hadn’t quite foreseen.

satoru was talking on the phone about important business whilst your little girls were giving him a rather sparkly makeover. the most heartwarming thing was satoru’s surrender to your daughters’ antics — allowing them to do whatever to his face and hair.

“mhm, yeah..” the white-haired sorcerer hums over the phone, not having the slightest idea about what ijichi was yapping about. probably something that has to do with the recent sighting of a special grade curse in the city.

but, that wasn’t satoru’s priority at the moment at all (even if it should have been). his focus was all on his two daughters that were enjoying their playtime with him.

“papa’s so pretty.” one of them comments with a big smile — a smile satoru wishes to protect until his last moment on earth. her fingers push and pull on a small strand of his hair, trying to tug it into another ponytail.

satoru had already lost count of how many messy and half-done ponytails his snowy hair got divided into. the same goes for the amount of stickers on his face and neck.

the two sisters work together to put another pink and glittery sticker on satoru’s chin — though were no match to their father’s playful attitude. he jerks his head forwards and teasingly nibbles on their tiny hands that came in touch with his face.

this causes almost ear deafening squeals to reverberate through his ears. not that he’s complaining — satoru loves to hear them.

“. . .gojo, are you listening?” ijichi’s shaky voice over the phone interrupts the squeals. satoru doesn’t even try giving a proper response and only mutters a quick ‘yeah’ between snickers. that was enough of a sign for ichiji to understand that he couldn't get through.

everyone knew how much satoru loved his little family. he cherished them and put them above everything, including his work. sometimes it was necessary for you to remind satoru that he's needed outside your home - that he was and will keep being the strongest sorcerer that people depend on.

"wow, you two really made papa super pretty!" satoru coos as his daughters bring him a hand mirror. his phone had already been discarded somewhere on the couch - not even bothering to hang up on ijichi first.

your husband effortlessly picks the children up and cuddles them close to his body, smothering them both in sloppy wet kisses on their cheeks and necks - making them giggle uncontrollably. "y'know, papa will give you both a nice little reward for making me so beautifu—”

a faint cough echoing from the mobile device next to them reminds satoru that he was still on call. he reaches out and grabs his phone, rolling his eyes in a sassy way before clearing his throat;

"i need to attend important business. see ya." the sorcerer declares and hangs up right after. to him, playing around and taking care of his daughters was more than necessary. even in comparison with an actual critical situation: it wasn't like there weren't any other special grade sorcerers that could take on the mission.

the second his phone plops back down on the couch, satoru's hands fly over to tickle his little girls' bellies. they wriggle and squirm around in his lap - squealing for help from their mama.

you had been watching the scene unfold from the doorway and decide to join in on the fun once you hear your daughters’ call. you gasp dramatically before scurrying over to the couch, acting like you were genuinely scolding your husband for his 'torturuos' tickles;

"oh no, my little girls!" you pout, taking in the way your daughters laugh and outstretch their tiny arms towards you, searching for an escape in your arms. you gladly help them away from their dad's grasp, though not without getting a whine out of satoru.

one of your daughters sticks out her tongue at the sulky sorcerer on the couch, the other mimicking her sister's actions. you chuckle and decide to do the same; frowning and sticking your tongue out.

"ack!" satoru clutches his chest, fingers curling around the material of his shirt like he just got shot. he topples over on the couch and acts dead with his eyes half closed, "i can't. . . believe. . . it. my girls hate me. ugh, my heart - can't take it."

you scoff at his exaggerated act. you were used to it after years of dating and marriage, but your daughters seemed to still take the bait. they writhe around in your arms and once you put them down on the floor again, they run back to their 'fallen' dad.

they shake him by his shoulders and harshly pat his cheeks in attempt to bring him back to life. a constant loop of 'papa!'s and 'wake up!'-s echo throughout the house. even some 'we're sworry!'-s thrown in-between.

satoru couldn't take it anymore and his arms move at the speed of light so he could pull both of his daughters in a big hug. he squeezes them a bit too tight to his chest, causing them to shriek and laugh.

"are you not joining us, sweetheart?" satoru asks with a shit-eating grin. it's then that you realise that he was blushing from pure joy — his cheeks rosy. well, you couldn't possibly deny his request when he was this ecstatic.

the high-pitched 'mama too! mama too!' coming from both girls mellowed your heart even more. and thus, you give in.

you happily join the pile - climbing on top of your husband and between your daughters which lay on each of his sides. your head rests on his chest, your eyes closed and your ears filled with laughter.

satoru eventually relaxes, however that genuine smile never leaves his lips. this is where he belongs. with his family - the most important thing of all.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff

[lovingempress]

One day I want to write a fic about a trainersona just absolutely ranting about how sick they are of fighting the SAME FREAKING CLEFABLE but like, in a funny way. Like just, someone asks why they just winced and had that dead look on their face as soon as they saw a clefable and then they just

With a haunted look in their eyes & go, “one time I entered myself into a local Pokémon league contest, just for fun!! Have ourselves a lovely competition on the joys of battling and friendship~ And then some JOKESTERS decided to all run the EXACT SAME POKEMON TEAM AND STRATEGY FOR A STRAIGHT WEEK OKAY I AM JUST SICK OF BATTLING CLEFABLE.” *Clefable walks by, aghast* “oh not you sweetheart, you’re fine”

*coughs* maybe not like that exactly, but similar vibes. I get that it’s all meta & whatever but still- it was so boring fam, it was like I was fighting a cloned AI. I got more variance and vibrancy in the post-game Gym challenges geez

#fic ideas #me things #based on my trauma of my last Pokémon tournament #i love all Pokémon #but I hate battling trainers like that #where’s the originality? the pizzazz?? the fun and joy of battling it out amongst random trainers with ur blorbos??? #its just so boring #I might as well have been facing off against an ai #it’s like they just looked up what was the strongest mega that week and all ran with it #i probably could have handled it better if they were at least different #but within the first three days it was just the exact same pokemon. the exact same setup. the exact same strategy #it was so boring and disheartening I ended up quitting after that online competition

[bunny-lily]

Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

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