𝐎𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞

🍰 demented devotions & dark chocolate cake

— ꒰ pairings ꒱ : m.draconia x reader x r.flamme in the moonlit garden, rollo stumbles upon you and malleus in the midst of a slow dance. malleus doesn't like how rollo is being so touchy with you and promptly drags you away. — ꒰ warnings / tag ꒱ : obsessive behavior (rollo), possessiveness, slight power dynamics, soft yandere, rollo calls you 'my lamb', twinge of religious themes because it is rollo event masterlist

NOBLE BELL COLLEGE, bathed in the gentle light of the moon, was a breathtaking sight. The buildings, reminiscent of sanctuaries with their time-worn stone walls, bore intricate carvings that appeared to come alive in the ethereal glow of night. Every archway and pillar whispered stories from the past. The bell towers stood as dark silhouettes against the starry canvas of the night sky, and each chime of the bells echoed through the entirety of the campus.

For Rollo, it had become a nightly custom to wander through the college gardens, a torch in hand, casting light upon his path. The garden provided him with a haven away from the cold, austere chambers of his dormitory.

As he strolled along the cobblestone pathways, the moonlight cast elongated shadows from the trees, while the warm torchlight bathed the surroundings in an almost magical ambiance. However, even in this tranquil setting, memories of a recent festival continued to plague him. The festival began with promise, a colorful whirlwind of music and laughter, but unsurprisingly, it swiftly descended into chaos. And yet, among these memories, your presence stood out as a bright spot amid the less pleasant recollections.

Your hair, like the finest silk, would sway gracefully when caressed by the breeze, and the sparkle in your eyes resembled stardust. However, what had left an indelible mark on Rollo's memory was the scarf that clung to your neck.

Rollo's fingers gently brushed against the soft fabric of that very scarf tucked in his pocket, and a wistful smile played upon his lips. Pulling it out, he pressed the scarf to his face, captivated by the lingering scent that still held traces of your presence. Ah, he could vividly recall how the scarf's color complimented your eyes. You had left it behind by the bell tower that day, and he had stumbled upon it. Although he had intended to return it to you, his search for you had proven fruitless.

No matter, he thought to himself, pocketing the purple fabric, he was certain he would find you sometime during the week.

Suddenly, distant sounds of laughter reached Rollo's ears. The alluring and familiar sound called out to him, and he couldn't resist its pull. Step by step, he followed it, drawing nearer with each move. As he cautiously peeked around the corner of an academic building, his heart sank upon witnessing the scene before him.

Your lips bore a wide, giddy grin as you were swept up in Malleus Draconia's embrace, twirling gracefully in a delicate dance. The fae's lips barely brushed your cheek, a subtle smile gracing his features. The enchanting dance held you both captive in a world of your own, oblivious to your surroundings.

"Heavens," Rollo grimaced, torn between watching the spectacle and turning away. The sight of Malleus pressing a kiss to the side of your neck only deepened his disapproval.

Brazen, lewd, and odious. It was a vile, depraved display.

Unable to watch anymore, Rollo cleared his throat and stepped out of the shadows, shattering the enchantment that had held you both in the dance's spell.

"There is a strict rule on public display at Noble Bell College, one that I had hoped you were aware of," he called out, his tone firm and disapproving.

In that moment, your eyes widened in realization, and you hastily pulled away from Malleus's embrace. Rollo couldn't help but smirk inwardly at the faint frown that momentarily marred the fae's face.

Embarrassment lined your features as you ran a hand through your wind-tousled hair, gesturing with the other, voicing your remorse for breaking such a basic rule.

"I will overlook this transgression for now," Rollo assured as he advanced toward you. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, and you tensed at his touch, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of red. As you instinctively started to pull away, his hold on your chin remained firm, coaxing your gaze back to his.

Rollo extended his torch closer to you, wishing to see your features more clearly. The flames danced perilously near, a few errant sparks floating in the air, almost singing the tips of your hair and the lapels of your coat. He observed your reactions with an amused smile, enjoying your wariness as you wrinkled your nose at the acrid scent of smoke.

Cute.

Rollo then leaned in closer, the flickering torchlight casting intriguing shadows across his face. His voice dropped to a low, confidential murmur, mindful of the fae hovering over you two.

"What a delicate soul you are," Rollo whispered, his intense crimson gaze locked on yours. "It's rare to see someone like you, tainted by the presence of magic, and yet somehow, still… pure despite it all." His words hung in the night air, a puzzle in his eyes, as if he were unraveling a secret you weren't even aware of.

"Pure?" you blinked, tilting your head in confusion, your curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by that?"

Rollo's lips curled into a wry smile as he brushed his thumb against your cheek. "Oh, my lamb, it's a complex matter, one best left for another time. You're already dealing with plenty, especially with those miscreants at NRC. Those fools are probably driving you mad."

The endearment he used sent a warm shiver down your spine, and you felt flutters in your stomach. Your eyes nervously shifted from Rollo to the serene surroundings of the garden, the moonlight casting a soft, ethereal glow on the foliage.

Malleus, unable to stand and watch any longer, clicked his tongue disapprovingly, signaling his irritation at the unfolding situation.

Wordlessly, he positioned himself behind you, his large, possessive hand gently running up your back. Despite the seething anger within him, Malleus restrained his magical abilities, aware that any inadvertent spells or outbursts could only serve to worsen the situation. As much as he wished to unleash his fiery wrath on Flamme, that would have to be reserved for another time.

"If you'll excuse us. We have somewhere to be," Malleus murmured, his voice laced with urgency as he swiftly pulled you away from Rollo and led you out of the garden.

Unbeknownst to you, Rollo's gaze bore into Malleus with an intensity that bordered on obsession. His crimson eyes radiated an otherworldly fire, and sparks ignited at the soles of his feet. As the flames danced beneath him, the once lush and vibrant grass around him withered and turned into dry, lifeless ash. Rollo then scowled, turning his attention to the scorched ground. He pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it to his face, muttering to himself in frustration as he stepped away from the darkened earth, dusting his shoes off with an absentminded air.

"Blasted fae."

🍰 . . .

Once you were safely out of earshot and view, Malleus came to a halt and his demeanor took a shift.

"Malleus?" you murmured, looking up at him curiously. The fae didn't say a word and instead turned to face you. The moonlight cast soft shadows on his face as he suddenly knelt down before you.

With a look of reverence in his eyes, Malleus took hold of both your hands, his touch warm and tender. He began to lavish adoring kisses along your palms, wrists, and fingers, each press of his lips filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes. It was as if he were trying to convey a silent promise, a pledge to protect and cherish you.

"Mine," he whispered, his emerald eyes sparkling with an almost possessive light, his voice tinged with a sense of ownership that sent shivers down your spine.

"Mine and mine alone."

✎ attraction

- gojo satoru x reader

to think it started with your crush on his best friend...

genre: high school!gojo being a menace, jealous!gojo but he doesn’t realize it? enemies to lovers, fluff, gojo begins pining on you

note: thank you anon who asks for gojo falling in love with a first year! i added some spice though haha

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Back in 2006—

There was this tiny weeny part of Gojo that was like... questioning, how did his best friend Geto Suguru catch your eye, whereas he didn’t? Like, at all?

"I want Geto."

"Hah?" Gojo arched a righteous brow, swiftly turning your way—feeling the stings of irritation gnawing at him. "What?"

You shot him a look. “I said, you suck and I’m lamenting that I’m paired with you instead of Geto for this mission.”

Once upon a time, you did hate him for obvious reasons as other people do. He was obnoxious, boastful and overall grating on your nerves.

Well, actually, “hate” would be too strong of a word, so probably “dislike greatly” it is.

“Ehh, Suguru? With you?” Gojo glanced at you, purposefully scrunching his face into a mocking sneer. “No way. Absolutely not. Incompatible. I won’t give him my blessings.”

“Who are you to grant blessings?” you hissed with a bulging vein of frustration. “And no, it's not what you think! I—” you wanted to kick yourself for stumbling over your words, “—I just respect him in a way an underclassman would!”

Gojo let out a strained laugh.

To him, you were this cute little junior who looked funny when mad. Riling you up was on his daily to-do list, and poking fun at your obvious crush on his best friend was supposed to double the fun, until it made him wonder despite himself... just what exactly did Suguru have that he apparently lacked, leading you to always follow him with your eyes, whereas you spared him with nothing but glares and sharp retorts?

You didn’t exactly hide your feelings. Whenever Geto was nearby or greeted you in the mornings, you'd blush like a tomato. It was silly, because Gojo was sure his best friend’s type wasn’t a girl as skittish as you—surely, it must be someone as vivacious as Inoue Waka.

He knew you were doomed to fail.

"I suggest you go pick up some slack," he teased. "Better if you don't become a dead weight while assisting him in missions, no?"

He knows. Really.

"...do you know that there are only three things I can't stand here?"

"And those are?"

But...

"Your stupid glasses, your Limitless—and you."

He was still irked, regardless.

"Well, poor you, then," he shrugged, shit-eating grin on his face. This time he pushed his luck. "Do you know that you're nowhere nearing Suguru's type?"

Scratch that. You hate him. You turned to him with a reddened face, and it wasn't because you were blushing.

"I'm going by myself!" you declared, seething. "I couldn't care less about what you're about to do—I'm finishing this and going home!"

With that, you you marched towards the haunted house, paying no heed to his taunts behind you.

You felt a wave of embarrassment washing over. Gojo always messed with you and normally you would chalk it up as one of his shits—but this time, you didn't appreciate how he touched on that sore spot of your not-so-hidden infatuation with Geto. So what if you weren't his ideal type? He didn't have to be mean!

But soon you regretted leaving his side, as a monstrous cursed spirit quickly chased you out.

Gojo was still outside, bidding his time. He merely huffed when he heard you screaming in fear.

He was ready with a jab. "Well, well... Look who's running back into my arms—"

But his smirk quickly fell when he saw the cursed entity was apparently way beyond your level. You ran out—no, by some idiotic impulse of survival, you actually leapt out of the third-story window and almost fell flat on your face and broke your bones, but before then, he sprung to action, catching you, wrapping one arm on your waist.

You were grateful you that you weren't doomed—until you felt yourself dangling mid air in his hold... like a cat.

"Gojo!" you wailed. "I'm going to fa—!"

Oh, but Gojo was convinced that this was his moment to shine. He directed a smirk your way as the bright blue mass in his hand totally caught your attention. With one swift flick of his hand, he muttered the mantra for Blue, and exorcised the cursed spirit in one go.

He marveled at his own show of power—and hoping that somehow, you would too. Then, he placed his hand under your knees, repositioning you in a princess-carry, and the way your gentle curves nestled snugly in his arms sparked some intriguing thoughts in him.

Your wide, crystal-clear eyes gazed at him with such wonder. Red tinted your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved into a winning smile.

It was at that exact moment when he realized it: he wants you. This funny girl who often made his day, he wanted you to look at his way too.

...but goddamnit, you like Suguru.

"Well, not that scary now with me around, isn’t it?" he boldly announced, and your amazed expression immediately turned into a cute frown.

"Thanks," you blurted, still with rosy cheeks and looked frazzled, but then you realized the state you were in his arms. "But—put me down!"

"Ehhh, I will if your feet can reach the ground!"

Who cares if you like Suguru? As he burst into snickers and you screamed at his face, Gojo Satoru decided then and there—in that summer of 2006—that he would make it his mission to win you over. To make you his.

And years later, not only he achieved that but also so much more—a ring on your finger serving as the testament to his success.

Epilogue

"Yaga-sensei," Geto sighed wearily. "Can I be paired with Shoko, please?"

"Geto-san, wait, please—" you frantically tried to explain, glaring at Gojo in the process. "I'll do my best so—"

"You're such a bother, even Suguru doesn't want to go on missions with you," the white-haired clown remarked with an evil grin. "Right, Suguru?"

"No, Satoru—"

"Well, but if it's me, I'll gladly mentor and teach you though~"

"I don't want you! You're so insufferably annoying!"

"Yaga-sensei, can I please get paired with someone else—"

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo lies to shoko in order to win a bet and you're dragged along for the ride. genre: fake-dating, friends to lovers, more slice-of-life than action, attempted humor notes: encounters w/ megumi, nobara, yuuji, and nanami. ummm there's a lunch date, gojo is just a mess, really. wc: ~5.4k song inspo ♫: stream by last dinosaurs

"Is it true?"

You look up from your laptop, glancing at Shoko as she bursts through your door. She composes herself quickly, straightening her lab coat before looking at you expectantly. Your eye twitches as you see Gojo peek his head out behind her, looking at you and desperately nodding his head. You let your gaze drift back to Shoko, who is now standing with her arms crossed as she taps her foot against the ground impatiently.

In a moment of weakness, you glance back at Gojo, huffing lightly before listening to him and nodding.

"Oh my god," Shoko whispers, mild horror on her face as she takes a step back. "Gojo? Really?"

You nod once more, confusion visible on your face as Gojo gives you a thumbs up. Shoko shakes her head, placing both of her palms on your desk before leaning down. You lean back slightly, caught off guard by her sudden proximity.

"Have you hit your head recently?"

"No, I haven't," you reply slowly, pushing your laptop to the side. "I haven't even been on any missions lately. What's this all about?"

Gojo stifles a laugh.

"Interesting," Shoko hums, staring at you for a few more seconds before straightening. She spares a glance at Gojo, eyes narrowing as she studies him. A sigh leaves her lips after a couple of seconds, and she gives you a sympathetic look before heading towards the door. She stops in front of Gojo briefly, tense as she looks up at him and speaks through gritted teeth. "Fine, I believe you. You're the strongest and handsomest jujutsu sorcerer of all time and I will never meet a man that's better than you."

"Thanks, I know," Gojo replies, a huge grin on his face as she scowls. She slips something into his hand, proceeding to flip him off as she finally disappears down the hall. Gojo turns his attention towards you, slipping into your office and shutting the door behind him before taking a seat in the chair in front of your desk.

He's relaxed as he kicks his feet up onto the table, leaning back into the chair and placing his arms behind his head as you frown. You throw a piece of paper at him, glaring at him when he shoots you a betrayed look.

"Get your feet off of my desk," you chastise, letting your gaze drift back to the report in front of you. The click of your keyboard is almost hypnotic as silence falls over the two of you, and Gojo begrudgingly puts his legs down, opting to place one leg over the other. It's not long before you click your tongue, repeating the question you had asked earlier. "So, will you tell me what that was about?"

"What ever do you mean?"

"Gojo," you say sternly, giving him a dry look over the top of your laptop. Your eyes flicker to his hand, still holding on to whatever it was that Shoko had given him. "C'mon, let me see what's in your hand."

You think that there might be a soft blush tinting Gojo's cheeks as he brings his hand forward, slowly unfurling his fingers to reveal a smushed packet of cigarettes. The confusion is clear on your face as you look up to meet what you assume to be his eyes (the blindfold makes it hard to tell, really), and he shyly turns his head away as you wait for an explanation.

"Shoko and I made a bet," Gojo finally says, flipping his hand over to let the cigarette packet fall onto the table. At your unamused look, he continues. "She said that the day I got someone respectable to date me would be the day she stopped smoking, and well..."

Silence ensues as he trails off, vaguely motioning to you as he clamps his mouth shut. Your eyes soften at his words, and you lean forwards to grab the cigarette packet before tossing it into the trash.

"So you told her we were together?" you ask, humming softly as everything begins to make sense. Gojo nods softly, still refusing to look your way. You ignore the way your heart leaps into your throat. "I'm flattered you think so highly of me, Gojo."

There's a pause after your words, and neither one of you quite know how to break the ice that has clearly formed. It isn't until Gojo clears his throat that you spit out the first words that come to mind, eager to keep talking to him even if it's just for a few minutes.

"So what was the reward?"

Your question brings Gojo's attention back to you, and he says nothing as you feel his gaze settle on you.

"For the bet?" you prompt, breaking Gojo out of whatever daze he was in. "What would each of you get if you won?"

"She wanted those stupid, fancy cigarettes from France," Gojo muttered, tilting his head up towards the ceiling in a way that made you wonder if he was rolling his eyes. "And a stupid, fancy dinner at that restaurant she loves so much."

"And I'm assuming you got to hear those very nice words from her in return if you won," you tease, a smile breaking out onto your face as Gojo breathes out a laugh.

"Yeah," he admits, running a hand through his hair before slouching and sinking into his seat. "I never would've gotten her to say that otherwise. Oh! And the cigarettes. I told her that if I won the bet then she needed to hand them over. I don't like that she's been smoking more often these days."

You feel your heart warm at his words, only to sober up when you realize there's a huge flaw in his plans.

"Gojo, wait," you say, eyebrows furrowing as you bite your lower lip in concern. "There's an issue here. We aren't dating."

"Do you want to?"

Gojo's response is instantaneous, and it takes everything you have to keep yourself from reacting to his words. You hum thoughtfully, doing your best to pretend his words don't have a profound impact on you as you throw a pen at him.

"Be serious," you hiss, rolling your eyes when he chuckles at your action. The pen bounces off of him harmlessly, and you scoff as it happens. "Sooner or later, Shoko is gonna realize we aren't really dating and she's gonna demand a lot more than that dinner."

The smile falls off Gojo's face when he realizes your words are true, and he groans as he leans forward, elbows on his knees as he cradles his head in his hands. "You're right. We're screwed!"

"You're screwed," you quip, smiling smugly when he looks up at you, mouth agape in disbelief.

"C'mon! You gotta help me! You're really gonna leave me all alone to face Shoko's wrath?" Gojo's lips are pursed in an exaggerated pout, and you're certain that if he were to remove his blindfold, his eyes would be shining with unshed tears in an attempt to guilt you into helping him.

"Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you. I don't have to do anything."

"Please. I'll do anything you want!"

You hesitate at his words, a smile appearing on his face once again as he realizes you're seriously contemplating listening to him.

"Anything?" you ask quietly.

"Anything." he states confidently.

"Okay then," you say smugly, crossing your arms as you grin. "I want that fancy dinner Shoko wanted."

You realize you've made a mistake when Gojo gasps, proceeding to then hold his hands to his heart as he pretends to swoon. "My, my, are you asking me out on a date?"

"No!" you shriek, taking a deep breath before standing up from your chair and making your way to the door. "You know what, nevermind. I'm gonna go talk to Shoko."

"Wait, wait! No! I was kidding," Gojo pleads, shooting out of his seat as he follows you. His hand slams on the door before you can even open it, and he squeezes in front of you to block your path, his back up against the door as he slides down to rest his head on your shoulder. "I'll take you out to dinner, just don't speak with Shoko! Besides, it'll make this relationship look more authentic if we go on dates!"

"Relationship?" you ask, shock lacing your words as you gently shove Gojo off of your shoulder.

"Yes," Gojo confirms, shaking his head firmly before taking both of your hands in his. "To keep Shoko from finding out I lied, we have to date. We can't let her get suspicious."

When he notices the mildly horrified look on your face, Gojo hastily rephrases his words.

"Or at least fake date! From now on, you're my pseudo-partner!"

Out of all the friends you made during your time at Jujutsu Tech, you had always known Mei Mei and Gojo to be the biggest gossips in existence. Heck, even Geto had been prone to getting carried away by gossip, his dark eyes gleaming with interest as he'd pull you aside to chat.

And yet, Ieiri Shoko was the reason that the entirety of Jujutsu Tech knew about your "relationship" with Gojo.

"So it's true?"

Megumi is the first to corner you after class, an unreadable look on his face as he stares you down. You wonder if playing dumb would work on him.

"Is what true?" you ask, tilting your head to one side questioningly as you gather your materials. The blank look he gives you is answer enough, and you sigh to yourself as you wonder why you thought you could ever deceive Fushiguro Megumi. You shoulders slump as you lean against the wall, giving up on your innocent act and sending him a weak smile before replying. "If we're thinking about the same thing then yes, it is."

There's an almost relieved expression on Megumi's face, his green eyes softening as he nods. The gesture is more to himself than to you. You wonder what he's thinking about.

"Well it's about time!" Nobara yells, bouncing up to Megumi and resting her elbow on his shoulder. The scene before you is almost comical, especially because of their height difference. The trio is completed as Yuuji comes up behind the two of them, his head peeking through the space between Nobara and Megumi as he sends you a bright grin.

"Congrats," Megumi mutters, his eyes narrowing into an instinctive glare when Gojo comes sauntering into the room. There's a wide grin on his face as he comes to a stop next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you into his side. Nobara snickers at your flustered expression, and you think that there might be a faint smile on Megumi's face. "I was surprised to hear that he finally asked you out."

There's a loud laugh immediately after Megumi's words, and the four of you turn to face Gojo as he waves his three students off. "Shouldn't you all be getting to class?"

"Class is over," Megumi replies dully, an eyebrow raising as he studies Gojo.

"What do you mean by that, Megumi?" you ask, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"I mean that he's had a cr—"

Megumi's words are cut off as Gojo lunges forward, slapping a hand over the younger boy's mouth and ushering him out the door. "Well, it was nice to see the three of you but you really should get going now. Bye!"

"Wait!" Nobara yells, a wicked grin on her face as she looks back at you. "Did you know that he never shuts up—"

Her words are also cut off as Gojo slams the door, making sure to lock it before turning around to face you. There's an awkward grin on his face, his breaths loud and fast as he tries to recover from the incident that just occurred.

"What was that all about?" you ask, crossing your arms as Gojo comes to stand in front of you.

"What are you talking about?"

You're reminded of the conversation that the two of you had in your office a few days ago, and you simply rub the bridge of your nose before grabbing your bag and heading to the door. "You know what? Forget it, I don't think I want to know. Why are you here?"

"There's no need to be so cold," Gojo says, a pout on his face as he approaches you. There's a mocking smile on your face as you move past him to grab the door knob, and Gojo feels his cheeks heating up as he looks away. You pause after unlocking the door, looking back to observe him before placing your hands on your hips.

"Well? What is it?"

"Nothing, forget it. I can't stand to look at you right now. You're so mean to me," Gojo huffs, crossing his arms as a snort escapes you. He refuses to look even as he hears you approach, and he briefly closes his eyes even though he knows you can't see him do so.

Neither one of you notices when the door slides open.

"Don't be difficult," you chide, leaning to try and catch his attention. He turns his head even more, a smile threatening to pull at his lips as he recognizes just how ridiculous he's being. You shake your head softly, reaching up to cup his cheek and turn his head to face you. Gojo's cheeks turn a soft pink, and he turns his head the other way, hoping that you hadn't noticed. He's stopped by your other hand, and he finds his throat going dry when he realizes that you are cradling his face in your hands.

You've pulled him down slightly, doing your best to get to eye level with him. He can't stop himself from leaning into your palms, feeling your fingers twitch at the sudden pressure before they skim the top of his cheekbones.

"So now that I have your attention again," you start, a softer smile now adorning your lips. Gojo absentmindedly thinks that you always seem to have his attention. "Why did you come to my class? Did you need my help with something?"

"Yeah," Gojo breathes, his arms unfolding and falling limp to his sides. He's closer than he was before, and he wonders who began to lean in first. He hopes it was you. "I was going to ask you if— Yuuji?!"

He straightens up immediately, putting distance between the two of you as he walks toward the door. You flounder for a moment, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around. Standing in the doorway are your three students, with Megumi being squished in between a smiling Nobara and a bashful Yuuji.

The silence is broken as Gojo takes a step towards the door, towering over the three teenagers as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

"I thought I told you three to leave," Gojo hisses, leaning down to be face level with Megumi. Yuuji shrinks behind him, but Nobara and Megumi remain in their places.

"We were curious." is all Megumi says in response.

"Curious about what?" you ask, coming up next to Gojo and leaning against the doorway. One of your eyebrows is raised, and Yuuji grins before stepping back up to Megumi's side.

"About the two of you!" Yujji says, wiggling his eyebrows as he glances between you and Gojo. His playful expression drops when Megumi elbows him, and a tiny smile remains on his face as leans against him.

"But our curiosity is sated. Or at least, mine is," Nobara adds, a bored look on her face as she turns around. "I seriously doubted that Gojo had asked you out but I guess I was wrong. I'm gonna go find Maki."

The four of you watch as Nobara walks away, and your attention is only torn away when Megumi steps closer to you. He's wearing a conflicted look on his face, and if you didn't know any better, you might've thought he was constipated.

"I'm... happy for you," Megumi finally says, his words sounding strangled as he glances at Gojo. Not even a second passes before Gojo is on Megumi, hugging him and pinching his cheeks as he coos over his words.

"I knew you cared about me, Gumi!" Gojo cries, immediately flinching in pain when Megumi kicks him. Regardless, he refuses to relinquish his hold, and you can't help the way your eyes widen when Megumi attempts to go in and bite Gojo's arm.

"Okay!" you yell, rushing forward and grabbing Gojo's arm. You gently pry his hands off of Megumi's face, and you smile when the green-eyed boy sends you a grateful look. "That's enough terrorizing teenagers for a day, don't you think?"

"Terrorizing?" Gojo gasps, swooning dramatically as he shifts his focus to you. "I have nothing but love and affection for my Gumi. I would never terrorize him."

It's almost comical to see you, Megumi, and Yuuji all turn to face Gojo, disbelieving looks on your faces as you look at the white-haired sorcerer.

"Yeah, okay."

"Whatever," Gojo grumbles, shaking his head before he slides his arm out of your grasp. The physical contact remains, however, when he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. You vaguely register the way Megumi gapes at the sight, too busy with how warm his hand was to truly be present. "Since you insist I leave Megumi alone, I say we leave. Perhaps get some lunch? That's what I came in to ask you about in the first place anyways."

He doesn't give you the chance to answer before he's pulling you down the hall, remembering to shoot a quick wave over his shoulder at his two remaining students.

"He really likes them, doesn't he?" Yuuji asks, his head tilted to the side as he watches the two of you leave.

"Yeah," Megumi replies, also observing the two of you. He'd never admit it, but Yuuji notices the fond look in his eyes as he looks at you and Gojo. "He really does."

Lunch is an awkward affair. Or at least, it is for you.

Gojo has not stopped staring at you since you sat down, not even when the waitress came by to take your order, and you feel like you're losing your mind as you try to avoid looking his way. A part of you wonders if he's really looking at you, especially considering the fact that his blindfold is still on. But training to be a jujutsu sorcerer has helped you hone your instincts, and deep down you're sure that he's been watching you for the past twenty minutes.

You thank the waitress when she places your order down on the table, and you dig into your meal almost immediately. You pause when you notice that Gojo hasn't moved, hands laced together under his chin to support his head as he studies you.

"I thought you said you can't stand to see me," you say dryly, leaning back from the table and finally looking up at him.

"That's why the blindfold is on," he replies cheekily. You scoff at his response before finally taking a bite of food, your eyes lighting up when you do so.

"This is delicious!" you rave, giving Gojo a surprised look before taking another small bite. "How'd you find this place."

"Someone recommended it to me."

"Who?"

"Someone who really, really likes food," Gojo says mysteriously. You give him a blank look, shaking your head at his antics.

"Let me guess," you say, giving him a smug smile. "Nanami?"

Gojo deflates in his seat, and you hold back a chuckles at his reaction.

"Yeah," he responds dully, looking down at the table. "Nanami."

"Yes?"

The two of you look up to see Nanami himself standing next to your table, a tired look on his face as he looks at Gojo.

"Nanami! Hello!" you say excitedly, earning a tiny smile from him. "I haven't seen you in so long, how are you?"

"I'm fine," he says tiredly, absentmindedly straightening his tie before continuing. "How about you?"

"I'm good!" you respond, smiling brightly as you turn to face him. "I'm actually—"

"On a date," Gojo cuts in, smiling innocently up at Nanami. "With me."

"I see," Nanami says quietly, glancing between the two of you before his eyes settle on Gojo. "So it's true."

"Yup, we're dating!" Gojo proclaims proudly, a smug look on his face as he finally, finally, picks up a bite of his food and tries it.

There's a mildly concerned look on Nanami's as he meets your eyes, and you notice the way his eyebrows furrow before he speaks. "I'm sorry."

There's a loud cough as Gojo chokes on his food, and the two of you turn to watch him reach for his napkin before taking a sip of water.

"Hey!" he exclaims, pausing when he lets out another cough. There's an unamused look on Nanami's face as he watches him, and he turns back to look at you as he places a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm really sorry."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gojo cries, an irritated pout on his lips as he stares at Nanami's hands. "You say that like being with me is a bad thing."

"Well you know what they say: if the shoe fits."

You think you see a faint smile on Nanami's lips, and you hold back a giggle as you realize that he's teasing Gojo. And based on the scandalized look that Gojo sends his way, you can tell it's working.

"I'm a good boyfriend!" Gojo argues, looking at you as he motions towards Nanami. "Tell him!"

"He's right," you say with a laugh. "He's been very sweet and he even paid for lunch!"

"Well, I suppose the heart wants what it wants," Nanami finally says, removing his hand from your shoulder before looking over at the counter. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat before it's too late for lunch. Congratulations."

You wave as Nanami walks away before picking up your silverware once more. You pause when you feel Gojo's fingers brush against your other hand, before fully engulfing it in his. There's a confused smile on your face as you stare at him, flipping over your hand so you were palm to palm with his.

"Am I a good boyfriend?" he asks suddenly, catching you off guard with his words. You look at him for a little longer, blinking rapidly before you realized he was genuinely asking.

"The best," you say, squeezing his hand softly before leaning down to take a bite of food.

He looks down at the table and smiles.

Lunch dates with Gojo become common, the two of you exploring new restaurants and cafes every chance you got.

Holding hands with Gojo also becomes common, along with him paying for anything you wanted. (Whenever you'd argue and insist you'd pay, he would simply wave you off, making a comment about how he wouldn't be a good boyfriend if he didn't spoil you any chance he got.)

It’s only when Maki remarks that you never keep your hands off of each other that you finally come to a conclusion.

You are in love with Gojo Satoru.

And that’s the realization that currently has you running down the halls.

"Shoko!" you cry, bursting into her office and collapsing onto the chair across from her desk. She gives you an alarmed look, quickly scanning your body and relaxing slightly when she doesn't see any visible injuries.

"What's wrong?" she asks, concern lacing her voice as she studies your expression.

"I've come to a horrible realization," you say, eyes wide as you looked at her, trying to make her understand just how important this conversation was. She waves her hand, signaling for you to continue.

"I'm in love with Gojo," you whisper, looking slightly horrified when you realize you've finally said the words out loud. You glare at Shoko when she snorts, and she leans back in her seat as she looks at you expectantly.

"Yeah, I kinda assumed," she says dully, her tone making it seem as though you had stated a fact. you throw your head back and groan, throwing an arm over your eyes as you try to get comfortable.

"Is it that obvious?" you whine. There's a sigh from Shoko as she observes you, and you're glad that you're not looking at her in that moment. You don't think you can handle the look you know she's wearing.

"Yeah, you're dating." Shoko scoffs, stretching her leg out under her desk to kick at you.

"No, we're not," you admit, turning away from the ceiling to give her a guilty look. "He lied to you."

A strangled noise leaves Shoko's throat, and she wastes no time before reaching into her desk drawer and pulling out a packet of cigarettes. You give her a scowl, standing up and leaning over the desk to try and snatch them away from her. She swats you away, and you give a resigned sigh before sinking into your seat once more.

"That motherfucker," Shoko grumbles, pulling a lighter out of her coat pocket and flicking it. You watch as she lights the cigarette in her mouth, giving her a disappointed look that she chooses to ignore. She leans in slightly, taking a drag of the cigarette before nodding her head at you. "Why'd he lie to me?"

"Well he said that your cigarettes were on the line," you admit, also leaning in closer to the desk. You slide the ashtray on the corner of her desk closer to her, earning a thankful look. "All he had to do was get someone respectful to date him and you'd stop. So I helped him, because I've also been concerned about your smoking habits lately."

A loud laugh leaves Shoko's lips at your words, and you give her a confused look when she puts her cigarette out. There's a wide grin on her face as she gives you a knowing look, and you find yourself shifting in your seat as she just stares.

"He lied to you," she finally says, her voice even and tone casual, as though she hadn't just dropped a truth bomb on you.

"He what? Why?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you process her words. "Why would he lie to me about that?"

"Because," Shoko says, the smile still on her face. "The original bet wasn't that he had to date someone respectable. The original bet was that Gojo should grow a pair and finally ask out the person he's been in love with since we graduated high school."

You sit silently for a moment, so still that Shoko thinks you might not be breathing. She reaches over to poke your shoulder earning a wide-eyed look from you as her words echo in your head.

"He's in love with me?" you shriek.

Shoko laughs.

You've become more fidgety lately, enough to the point that Gojo notices.

When he reaches for your hand, you flinch, giving him a nervous smile and an apology before lacing your fingers with his. Every time he slings an arm around your shoulders, you tense, and Gojo can't help but ask you every time if his actions are okay. You always say yes.

Gojo notices you're often lost in thought, looking off into the distance and giving him an embarrassed smile when he waves his hand in front of your face to get your attention. He wonders what's happened, especially considering you've never been one to get lost inside of your own head.

It's not until the two of you are eating lunch (in his office this time) that he finally breaks, lowering the sunglasses he had chosen to wear that day and giving you a curious glance before speaking.

"So what's wrong?"

His question breaks you out of your dazed state, and you slide your lunch to the side before giving him a mildly convincing smile.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, tilting your head as you try to give him an innocent look. Gojo snorts at your response, remembering all the times he's answered your questions with those exact same words.

"That won't work on me," he chides, reaching out to grab your hand. His thumb skims the top of your knuckles, and you giggle nervously before trying to pull your hand back. His grip tightens slightly, and you sigh before grabbing onto his hand as well. "Now c'mon. Tell Gojo what's on your mind."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him an unimpressed look before sighing.

"I told Shoko," you admit quietly, watching as his eyes widen in surprise. "About... us."

"Oh," Gojo breathes, blinking rapidly. His hand goes limp around your own and you wait for him to keep speaking, but he only stares at you in return. You take the opportunity to slide your hand out of his grip, meeting no resistance this time as you do so.

"So I guess she wants that dinner right?" he asks, laughing hollowly as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Gojo," you say, your tone serious as you stare at him. "She told me the truth. About the bet."

"Oh," he repeats, his hand falling limply to his desk. He swallows harshly, giving you an unreadable look before leaning back in his seat. "Is that why you've been so distant lately?"

"Distant?" you echo, eyebrows furrowing. "I haven't been— oh."

You cut yourself off as you realize what Gojo means. All your avoidance, all the freezing up under his touch— he thought you were trying to distance yourself from him.

"I was trying to figure out..." you trail off, closing your eyes briefly in an attempt to hype yourself up. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you I feel the same."

There's a sharp intake of breath at your words, your whispered confession hanging in the air for a few seconds. You refuse to look up when you hear Gojo leave his seat, your heart pounding as he rounds his desk to approach you.

"Are you telling the truth?" Gojo whispers, his head hanging low as he crouches next to your chair. His voice is hoarse when he speaks again, and you find yourself glancing his way when his fingers graze yours. "Please, tell me you are. I know it was my idea, but I can't keep pretending we’re together when I’m in love with you."

"I am."

The words are barely out of your mouth when Gojo reaches out, his fingers splayed out across your cheek as he cups your jaw. You can feel him leaning in closer, his eyes closing when he leans his forehead against yours.

"You promise?" he mumbles. Your breath catches in your throat as you nod. "Good."

He leans in even closer, pausing when his nose bumps against yours. There's a brief moment of stillness before you take charge, leaning forward to close the gap between the two of you. Your lips meet in a soft kiss, and you pull away slightly, meeting Gojo's eyes briefly before the two of you dive right back in for another.

Your lips move in tandem with his, and you feel your stomach twist as he deepens the kiss. He gently pulls you off your seat, shifting so that his back is against his desk as he pulls you on to his lap. You straddle him without objection, his hands coming down to grab your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

Gojo pouts as you pull away to catch your breath, and he only reaches up to grab your chin and pull you down, pressing a multitude of soft kisses to your lips as his hold on your tightens.

"You know," you mumble in between kisses, your eyes fluttering as you lean further back. Gojo's lips chase yours. "When Shoko found out the truth, she had a packet of cigarettes ready to go."

"Well," Gojo starts, grabbing your hand with his as he presses another kiss to your lips. "I guess that means we just gotta go take them from her. After all, a bet is a bet."

extra:

Gojo eventually tells the first years, the second years, Shoko, Nanami, and even Yaga that the two of you are dating "for realsies". They're all confused until Shoko tells them about the bet and Maki immediately asks if you're sure you want to be with him. Gojo yells at her and she then proceeds to call Yuuta, who hesitantly congratulates the two of you over the phone.

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

LIES, LIES, LIES — #RYOMENSUKUNA

sypnosis: sukuna never expected you to break up with him out of nowhere. you blocked him through everything. now he stalks you on your social media, starting to wear less and going out with people he never met before.

#content: ryomen sukuna x fem! reader. 2.5k words. petty sukuna. mature language. heavy making out. he used to be a fuq boy. this was supposed to be a drabble but oh well. wrote this while listening to telekinesis, marvins room, ball w/o you, and hotline bling. not edited too lazyyyy ehh

ryomen sukuna is so petty. and anxious. sukuna's anxious now that you are no longer his. for him, you are. you'll always be his. but not for you, no. not after you broke up with him out of nowhere. is this his karma for breaking too many hearts before?

he never posts about him going to parties or having fun in general. but these nights, he does. he shows everything in his instagram story because there's a chance you're watching him.

he wants you to watch him have fun without you. he'll do just fine without you. don't blame the man for acting petty, you broke his heart after all. but what sukuna did not know is that you were doing the same thing.

you blocked him the day you broke up with him. on all your social media. so on the same day, he made a burner account. how long has it been? you broke up with him — 5 weeks ago, he tried going after you the first two weeks, but it didn't work. he hasn't seen you in 3 weeks now. he checks it every hour of the day. he just wants to see. one thing about you is that he knows you don't post. so when he saw the colored circle around your picture he immediately clicked it.

it was a video of you. you wore his favorite dress. that short red sparkly dress. it was his favorite color, you knew that. you were holding a liquor in your left hand while singing along with the background music.

what's the title again? — ah. best i ever had. fuck, you really were the best he ever had. you're all he ever wanted. before, he'll be the only one to see this. again, you never post pictures or videos. instead, you send them to sukuna. you claim that he's the only one who should see them anyway. but now that situation has changed, you're showing that beautiful face to everyone. not just him.

the next slide is a picture of you and your friends — who are these people? he knows all your friends. new people? he doesn't know what's happening in your life now.

how the fuck did you even get to where you started?

where were you? at a party? friend's party? club? does it even matter, at the end of the day you were having fun. now, he's more uneasy than ever. you wouldn't sleep with anyone, right? you know better. you should. you could sleep with half of the world, you still wouldn't forget him. you'll always know him. you don't need anyone else.

he shouldn't text you. you wouldn't want that. no he won't text you. he'll get over it.

he’s not texting you.

sukuna what the fuck did i do wrong baby

sukuna answer

sukuna where are u

you ???

sukuna let's talk

sukuna we need it

you we ??? u mean u need it lol

sukuna i miss u

sukuna please let's talk

you fine, pick me up

you [xxx-xxx]

you found him waiting for you just outside your friend's house. he looks good. so much for a guy who's miserable without you. did he lie about that too? that he's miserable without you? he looks just fine. he was wearing a black compression shirt. he was at a party before this, you know that. you stalked his socials after all. who was he trying to impress? who did he fuck this time?

"you look grumpy." you plastered a smile on your face greeting him, "let's go there, it's quieter and it has uhm — privacy." you pointed at the empty dark garden. sukuna did not answer he only followed you, both of his hands tucked in his pockets. what time was it? — 11:05 at night. sukuna didn't look drunk. or high. he usually does when he goes to a party.

"what?" he starts, "what?" you asked back. he should talked. he was the one who rushed here. he was the one who bought you here when you should be having fun inside.

"you dressed up well." you feel his eyes on you. his observing you. you quickly look away. avoiding eye contact. you feel shy. you haven't seen him in almost three weeks. he hadn't stared at you like this in weeks. it's not like he has a chance.

"just talk about what you wanna talk about," you stated. you want this to be over with. because if this will continue, you know damn well, you'll be swayed.

"why?" he asked. that's all he wants to ask. a simple why. he just wants to know. he looks at you, his eyes never leave you. his not begging you with his words. it's those eyes that are begging you to speak up.

you loved sukuna. no, you love him. you spent the past weeks without him thinking about all his lies and cover-ups — all the things they said about him. you're insecure. maybe that's why. maybe being with sukuna is harming the insecurity more. because the more you're with him, the more louder you hear the voices of others insulting you.

you recall that first woman's voice, what exactly did she say again — "sukuna. your boyfriend. how long do you think he plans to keep you as his plaything?" then another one, "sukuna's funny. he really tries so hard to keep the girl by his side like he won't leave her when he gets bored." this one you overheard on the way to the bathroom. "you think sukuna loves that girl?" this one you also overhead, it was a full conversation bashing you, "probably not, his favorite one, maybe? we all know he never sticks to one."

he never sticks to one. sukuna gets bored easily. plaything. of course you try not to listen to them. they're not sukuna, but, they keep replaying, it's not like it's all a lie. before — sukuna had his way around girls like this. he is not the type to call a woman back the next morning after hanging out with them the whole night. he never likes commitment, the only commitment that he has ever done before you is his tattoos.

these thoughts eat you up. you broke up with him after a week of contemplating. you did it through a phone call. you might sound like an asshole but it was a decision for the sake of yourself. you hanged up before he can even speak.

but it didn't really stop there — he showed up to your work the next day. you pushed him away. then he shows up to your class. outside the building. again, you pushed him away. every time he comes he brings food, flowers, bears, and gifts. you claimed that he just wasted money. he was persistent.

he continued for two weeks. after that, he stopped showing up. you wondered if he was tired. he must've been.

you stalked him using your burner account that night he stopped coming. he was at a party. having fun. you also watch the stories of his close friends. just to get a glimpse of him more — he really was having fun. you swipe to the next post, it's a group picture. his arms around another woman. he has that cocky fucking smile on his face.

sukuna was back to being who he was before you. that night you cried your way to sleep. — did you even sleep? how can you sleep when he's out with other girls?

you stayed a mess for days. this night, your friend begged you to attend her birthday party. you decided to go. you needed it anyway. a night away from sukuna.

it was really supposed to be a night without sukuna. but you can't seem to — escape him.

"you and i." you start quietly finding the clear and right words to use, "we don't work."

he scoffs, "how the fuck do ya know that?"

he's always been a hard person to talk to, he's hard-headed. "because you're you. and i'm well — me."

sukuna knows you too well. he can tell that you're nervous. why are you nervous? you must be lying. he observes you — again. you're fidgeting. no. you're not lying but you're not telling him everything either.

"you haven't answered that question yet."

your eyes that are fixed on the ground glare at him, "i just answered, you have a hard time understanding."

he hums clearly not impressed, "why? tell me. then i'll decide if we break up or not."

"that's not up to you to decide, you know, you're being unreasonable again."

"talk 'bout being unreasonable, eh? who broke the relationship without one proper reason? it's clearly not me, baby."

he's frustrating. sukuna will always be frustrating.

"they —" you start. you can't help but pout, you don't wanna cry tonight. not with this pretty makeup on. but you're sensitive. you don't want to talk about this. you don't want to remember what they all said. you really did love him after all. you can only hold so much.

he noticed, he's observant. he takes a step closer to you, "hey — fuck — are you crying? don't . . baby . . hey it's okay you can tell me, okay?" he holds one of your hands and he wipes the little tears that are rolling down your eyes.

he knew it. there's something. something is bothering you. something you're not telling him. he wishes that he can kiss those tears away. he wishes that after this you'd come with him home. who dares to make his baby cry anyway?

"uhm . . they've been talking," you sniffle, "a lot about us — our relationship — me. saying a lot of mean things. and i don't like being treated like that suku. i hate it so much. they always say that — you're not really serious and that you'll fuck me over." you stop for a second taking a look at his face — is he mad? he looks glazed. his holding your hands tighter now. " . . and it's not like i don't trust you . . you know — it's just that i don't wanna constantly deal with them because i'm so fucking tired."

"then don't listen." sukuna calmly says. that's new. you expect him to react . . mad, annoyed, or hostile even. that's more likely his personality. but sukuna cares about your sensitivity. it wouldn't be a good decision for him to scream at you and scold you. he simply cares. "don't fucking listen (Y/N)"

sukuna understands now. for you, he does. he might be a asshole sometimes but he can be a decent guy if you need him to be.

"it's not your fault, baby, i'm not blaming you, i'll never do that. nothing is your fault."

he finally let go of your hand shortly and then pulled you into a hug, a tight one. ryomen sukuna is yearning for you. he lets out a sigh of relief. it's gonna be fine now. he'll fix everything. "don't listen to the lies, i swear, they're all lies." he continues, "they're not me, dumb, that's what they are."

"it's not even just that — you. you're such an asshole. you replaced me too fast!"

"when the fuck did i? woman."

"you keep partying with another woman. i saw everything, you know." you state grumbling at the pink-haired man, he chuckles, sneering "stalker."

it was all worth it. him being petty is worth it.

"you fucked that girl that you met at the party?" you asked hopeful for a no.

"hmm i'm no cheater, baby." he says proudly, "you know that better than anyone. i posted that for you to see. wanted to act petty, you know."

it was silence after that. you want to kiss him. the brooding vibe that occupied the space earlier is gone. the feeling is familiar now. it smells like sukuna now. maybe it's his expensive high-end perfume or maybe it's just him urging you to come back home to him.

"i only want the best for you. i promise. i'll do anything for you. can you just come back to me please? it's all me, just don't go." sukuna's truthful, "don't walk away, okay? we'll be just fine. i don't wanna lose this with you. listen to me once and not them. everyone thinks that they know us, they know nothing."

it's hard to believe that before this sukuna was that asshole who fuck and go. it's hard to believe that before you sukuna did not know how to love. how can you ever leave him when he loves you like this? this man who literally carries your groceries, he took the time to memorize you, all of you. he never left.

maybe that's why you had to give up so fast. because how deeply can you fall in love with him? you don't think can handle the pain of the things they said happening.

but after everything, he tells you that it's not your fault.

"kiss me, please."

it didn't even take a second for him to move, he let go of the hug and held your neck. he started slowly. it's like your lips are made for each other. how can they move so perfectly? you close your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

you opened your mouth letting his tongue in. his tasting you. he hadn't done this in weeks. he pulls your waist closer as he moves forward. he bites the bottom of your lip causing you to let out a moan only for him to push his tongue back in tasting every corner of your mouth.

he's craving for it. his hands traveled down your back to your ass as he rests his hands then gripping your butt cheeks. "miss you so much. you have no idea. all i can think about is your face, cunt, and your ass. i swear."

"sukuna, not here." you pull him away before he can do anything more, "let's go home first." you continue.

he smiles, cheekily, he won you at the end of the day. "ya fucked anyone when i wasn't around? your ass better makes sure no one touched you while you're wearing my dress. wearing my dress in front of these men with micro-sized dicks."

he knows though, even if you don't answer, he knows already. he knows that you wouldn't touch anyone other than him.

"oh, by the way, how do you plan on making up with me? you did break my heart. should i tie you up and blindfold you?" he stops, "or no, should i make you ride me till the morning? that sounds better does it?" he continues, "strip tease sounds nice though. face sitting also is nice, we don't do that often."

this man is a menace. his making a decision like his life depended on it.

"ahh fuck it." he grins, "doll face, i've made up my mind. let's do all of them hmm."

Someone New

Summary: Travelling worlds has its side effects; namely, having visions of multiple timelines. As you get closer to the housewardens after their overblots, you begin to see the possible future that awaits the two of you, if only you decide to choose them.

Overblot gang x Reader (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus)

GN but mentions of biological children - imagine anything you want though (magic spells that make anything possible!)

i. blooms of red and bursts of reason; riddle rosehearts

Even after knowing him for months, you don’t touch Riddle until long after his overblot. He isn’t truly comfortable with you, with anyone, touching him so casually.

The chill of autumn ghosts your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms. When he notices you rubbing your forearms to gather some warmth, Riddle insists on offering you his coat. Something about ‘rule five hundred and nine.’

His ways don’t always make sense to you, but you appreciate the sentiment behind the action. You take his coat, uttering your gratitude to him, although it’s quite small considering his stature. He offers you a small smile; in Riddle’s case, you know that means a lot.

You can’t help but return his smile, the small affection making your heart stir suddenly. It’s nice - spending time alone with Riddle. At the beginning of the year, you’d never have imagined becoming close with him. It was hard to see past the strict housewarden who never let anything go.

You think he’d made assumptions about you too. About you being a troublemaker, someone not worth his time, just another problem. You’re thankful you’ve both come around.

You stare at him from the corner of your eye as you walk together. He truly is gentle at heart, despite what his temper might suggest. His red hair sits perfectly on his head, cutely framing his face. It makes you think of his mother; his hair is perhaps the only good thing she passed onto him.

You snap out of your thoughts when you step a little too hard into a puddle and accidentally splash your pants, slightly dirtying them. Riddle turns when he hears your grumble, and you prepare yourself for a scolding. You won’t hold it against him; it was your fault for being careless.

Instead, Riddle only shakes his head gently, before asking if you’d like to stop at Ramshackle to change before you two arrive at the library.

Your surprise forces you to take a moment and just look at him. So far he’s come from the person he was only a couple months ago. You feel strangely sentimental, so you reach out to touch his shoulder, intending to thank him.

As soon as you make contact with him, the world around you shifts, brown and orange leaves being traded for the bright green of spring.

-

You sit under a pagoda tree, the wind gently blowing the pages of your novel. It’s strange - you’re seeing things as yourself, but you’re not in control. It’s as though you’re replaying the memory of someone else. At the sound of someone’s voice, ‘you’ look up. It’s there that you spot familiar red hair; it forms a stark contrast to the vegetation around you.

He’s not alone, either. In Riddle’s arms is a small baby, with identical hair to who you presume is his father. It’s a striking image - Riddle with his child. He’s noticeably older; if you had to guess, he seems to be in his late twenties.

“MC? Sorry to bother, but he’s been refusing to eat today. I checked our parenting books thrice, but I haven’t found any suitable solutions. I thought you might know how to help him.”

“That’s okay,” you hear your voice say. “How is our little guy doing?”

Riddle passes the baby to you, and you finally take notice of his other features; this child has the same colour eyes as you, and a similarly shaped nose.

You then catch a glimpse of the ring sparking on your left hand, and the other on Riddle’s.

“Hmm,” you’re vision-self says. “Let’s go back home, I’ll try to see what’s bothering him.”

“Alright, dear. I’ll start on dinner,” older-Riddle replies.

He takes your hand and helps you up, before you walk back toward the house in the distance, your hand still in his.

-

When the greens turn to orange, you blink, finding Riddle looking at you. You’re back at NRC.

“Are you alright, prefect? You seem distracted.”

“I’m okay, Riddle. I just…never mind. Let’s get going.”

You decide not to tell him about your strange…Dream? Vision? It all seemed so real…you could smell the tree sap and feel the breeze flow against your skin. You held a baby. Your baby…with Riddle? The two of you were older, but would it really be possible for it to truly be your future? That seemed ridiculous. Then again, you thought the same thing about magic a few months ago.

You resolve to keep this strange occurrence to yourself until you can figure out what happened. It’s hard to look at Riddle, having now seen the two of you married and with a child together. You’re more flustered than usual. Was this just some kind of daydream projection of your fantasies about him? You weren’t even really sure you could say you have a ‘crush’ on him - after all, you’ve only recently begun getting close. Not that you haven’t thought of him that way at all but-

You’re sure Riddle takes notice of your strange behaviour throughout your study session but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar

You’d fought Leona hard to get where you are now - on the left side of his bed, with Grim sleeping at the base. You’re exhausted with everything going on with Azul (hopefully) temporarily taking your dorm, but it’s hard to sleep with how worried you are about the situation.

Leona’s room is dim, moonlight cascading over the silk sheets. You can barely make out his form, curled up in the blankets and turned away from you.

You don’t want to disturb the sleeping lion, but he happens to be hogging the entire blanket. You suppose you should’ve known, but it wasn’t as though you had time to take anything from Ramshackle.

When the chill becomes too much to ignore, you try to tug part of the blanket away from him. This causes Leona to roll over, arm suddenly falling around your back.

You’re hit with another wave of blurry vision as the moon melts into the sun.

-

“Morning,” you hear a voice, your voice, say to him. Your tone is playful and lightheartedly chastising. You can feel his arms wrapped snuggly around you.

It’s happening again, the same as with Riddle. You’re seeing things from your own eyes, but you’re not in control.

A groan comes from behind you, Leona shuffling his position but refusing to open his eyes. His bare legs brush yours under the covers. “Too early. Go back to sleep.” He pulls you closer into his chest.

‘You’ laugh gently, turning around in his arms so you’re now face to face. “You promised the queen we would attend this banquet. Especially after we missed the last one.”

He looks older here too, but as gorgeous as ever. Despite just waking up, Leona’s dark hair falls perfectly around his face. The room is different than his one at school; it’s still a bedroom, but it looks as though you’re back in the castle of Sunset Savanna.

Leona finally opens his eyes, looking at you with a heavy gaze before flipping you below him. His arms hold him straight above you, looking down on you lying prone on the bed. “Hmph.” He leans in close until your lips are only millimetres apart. “We have some time, don’t we?”

You’re left staring into those piercing green eyes, entranced by them being closer than ever.

With that, he leans in completely, lips brushing over your own as he begins to kiss you. The longer it goes, the more ravenous he becomes, more and more greedy for the taste of your lips.

-

When the sunlight fades to moonlight, you’re left embarrassed. That was - so much worse than with Riddle?! Ugh, it’s so awkward with Leona sleeping beside you now, like you’ve violated some kind of rule by thinking of him that way.

You’re too afraid to even consider the possibility of it being some kind of dream. It came on so suddenly, but you hadn’t been asleep. The whole thing seemed so real, too elaborate for a simple dream. No, it had to be more than that - some kind of vision - but how could that be true? And what did that mean about your vision with Riddle? Surely they couldn’t both be correct.

You’d intended on ignoring it before, but with Leona’s vision, that seemed futile. Perhaps the staff would have some answers for you…

iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto

Azul isn’t one for touching, and this time neither are you. Ever since the Crowley’s theory about alternate universes and rips in time since you’ve travelled worlds, you’ve decided it’s best to stay away from touching too many people. It was…interesting, to see a possible future with Riddle and Leona, but it’s certainly left you ambivalent. It’s a bit difficult not to avoid them when your mind drifts to your ‘visions’ while in their vicinity.

Riddle is kind enough to ignore your sudden shyness, but Leona has openly called you out on how flustered you get around him. He seems both confused and amused about the development, and his smugness is too much to handle sometimes.

Fortunately for you, Leona doesn’t hang around the Mostro Lounge much, making it the perfect place for you to avoid him. You try to force Ace and Deuce to come with you and study there, but the two have been reluctant considering their previous encounters with the twins while trying to get Azul’s picture.

That means you’re left to go alone, sometimes. Well, alone except for Grim. He never leaves you hanging as long as you agree to buy him food. Just like today, where he sits passed out across the other side of the booth, having eaten himself into a food coma.

You try to return to your homework, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Azul staring at you from the staff area. When you make eye contact, he only waves, smile dripped in plasticity. When you don’t clue in, he walks toward your table, eventually taking a seat across from you, beside Grim.

“Hello, Prefect,” he says.

“Azul.”

Unlike Riddle - and even to some extent, Leona - you haven’t really gotten close to Azul after his overblot. He doesn’t exactly want you to, it seems.

“I noticed you’ve been frequenting the Lounge quite frequently as of late - I just wanted to thank you, for being a dedicated patron.”

“I’m not doing it for you, but you’re welcome, I guess.”

“Ah yes, I presumed. So, who are you doing it for?”

Your mind snaps to thoughts of you and Leona in the future, his arms around you in his bed-

“Nothing. No one. Do you need something, Azul?”

Despite your attempt at neutrality, Azul must see something on your face as you attempt to rid your mind of your vision of Leona. He leans in a bit, curious to observe you.

You begin packing up your things, too distracted to continue studying.

“No need to leave on my account,” he says.

“It’s not.”

He stands at the same time as you, presumably planning to head back to his office. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t noticed Grim migrate to his place sleeping on the floor. When you take a step forward and trip, Azul is, tragically, directly in front of you.

Your arms reach out instinctively, but instead of stabilizing yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, the force of your fall knocks the both of you over.

As soon as you make contact with him, your vision swirls into another world full of beautiful blues.

-

The coral sea is even more breathtaking than you remember. You’ve only been a couple times, but the drastic differences between the land and ocean always manage to stun you. The water is so clear that it practically glitters as you wave your hands through it, feeling the water pass refreshingly across your smooth skin.

You’ve never been to this specific place before (presumably, it doesn’t exist yet), but it’s clear what it is: a restaurant. If the octopus logo has anything to do with it, clearly it’s Azul’s. It wasn’t too surprising to you that he would have more restaurants open in the future, but you weren’t sure what you were doing here. If the pattern followed, it seemed inevitable that you and Azul would be…romantically-involved in this timeline, but that just didn’t seem possible.

At least you had befriended Riddle and Leona to an extent - Azul looked down on your existence as a magicless person, seemingly entirely apathetic about you in general. You had to admit, the feelings were mutual considering his treatment of you and your friends.

You feel ‘yourself’ look around the restaurant, before heading back into the staff area. You knock on the door to an office, and Azul opens it with a smile.

He, too, is older. His face has matured a bit and he also wears his hair a bit longer. Azul still has his grey suit, though.

“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”

“I guess so, boss,” your voice replied cheekily. Boss?? Why would your future self ever work for-

“Hmm, I may have more tasks for you, why don’t you come in~”

With that, future-Azul takes your hand and tugs you into his office. On his desk sits several picture frames; one of his parents and one of his wedding. You happened to spot yourself in the second one.

It’s a bit jarring to see; you and Azul posed together, dressed up in such fancy clothing. His arm sits around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. Before this, the two of you have never even shook hands.

You hear yourself giggling, cornering Azul against the wall as soon as he closes the door and bringing your arms around his neck to kiss him.

You can already feel the dread forming; you definitely won’t be able to spend time at the Mostro Lounge after this…

As the two of you pull away, Azul starts talking about a reunion for your graduating class at NRC.

“I told them maybe - with the new branch of our restaurant opening, we may wish to stay back. Then again, it could be a great opportunity to network for us. What do you think, dear?”

Before you can hear your reply, the world fades back into the familiar lighting of the Mostro Lounge.

-

A groaning Azul is beneath you, having (unfortunately for him) broken your fall.

You utter a quiet ‘sorry!’ as you get off of him, still a bit flustered from your vision.

He gets up, dusting himself off. Thankfully, the two of you are in a rather secluded area of the place, so no one was there to witness your embarrassment.

Azul can no longer maintain the facade of kind gentleman as he turns back to you, voice dripping with passive aggressiveness.

“I would prefer if you refrained from touching me in the future. Thank you.”

With that, he gets up and leaves. You shake your head - how could there possibly be any timeline where you’ve married him?

iv. jaded jewels shine, awaken from slumber; jamil viper

While helping out with the VDC, you’ve had time to get close to Jamil. Much closer, in fact, than with any of the others you’ve had visions of before. Now you’ve avoided touching him for a whole other reason - you’re scared you won’t have a vision.

Spending time with Jamil has made you realize things you’d never thought about him before - his handsomeness, intelligence, and talent. You’ve developed a bit of a crush on him, considering how much you admire him.

However, you have no idea how he feels. Jamil has never been one to express his feelings so outwardly, but you can’t get a read on him at all. He’s been polite with you, but he’s treated you basically the same as everyone else.

Your attempts at getting closer to him have been rather unsuccessful - the group is so busy practicing, everyone’s been way too exhausted to really do anything.

You manage to get a moment alone at Ramshackle when the rest of the boys have gone to sleep, and you find Jamil sitting out on the porch alone.

“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”

Jamil turns to look at you before nodding his head. You take a seat beside him, following his gaze to the stars. The sky is dark but the moon casts a glow on him, making Jamil look beautiful under the light.

“What are you thinking about?”

He hums for a moment before replying, “What I’m always thinking about - how things will just go back to normal again after the end of the VDC.”

You don’t really know what to say; his fears seem inevitable, no matter how much you want to comfort him. “I’m sorry…I can’t understand what it’s like for you, but…what if you could still have some kind of happiness in your life?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…you could still find love?”

“Find love? You think that’s what I care about?” Jamil’s tone is bitter, but his voice never rises. “Sorry, but you’re awfully naive. Things like love won’t make my life better. It’ll only complicate things.”

“I-I understand.”

When your voice shakes, Jamil finally looks up at you, sighing when he spots your watery eyes.

“Prefect, relax. I’m not angry at you. It’s just a frustrating situation for me, I’m sure you know. I don’t have time to think about love. I just need to focus on myself.”

With that, he pats your shoulder before standing up, leaving you alone to stare at the night sky. Jamil hadn’t even realized you were trying to confess to him, and you felt terrible for even trying to bring it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to think about something like your stupid little crush - you feel so silly for even bringing it up, you should’ve known better since you know all about his circumstances.

It was then you realized - Jamil had touched you for the first time. He touched you and nothing happened.

The first one you’d been seriously interested in, and there seemed to be no future for the two of you.

Was it possible you’d already messed up this timeline, making it impossible for that future with him to occur? The whole thing made your head spin and your heart ache.

v. swept into spotlights, doused in delicacy; vil schoenheit

Vil had been a surprising comfort in the wake of your unrequited crush on Jamil. The two of you had gotten closer after VDC, and Vil had a way of pulling honesty out of you. It had only taken him a couple days of observing your awkwardness to guess at the situation.

He’d been a shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively. There’d been a moment when he first pulled you into his arms that you’d wondered - hoped - that he might be a possibility in your future, but alas, no vision. It was a bit disappointing but you knew it was wrong to feel too badly; it would be greedy of you to desire a connection with so many knowing you could only end up with one.

Vil became a friend - someone you could rely on, someone who could make you laugh, and someone who couldn’t break your heart.

Even when you would start to feel something more than platonic for him, you had to push it away. He was certainly gorgeous and talented and perfect…but he wouldn’t be that for you. He couldn’t, apparently, and maybe he wouldn’t want to either.

Vil was more than just a fellow student - he was an actor, a model, a celebrity - someone too far to reach. Even if you had a vision with him, would it matter?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vil’s hand on your cheek, turning your face to get the correct angle to apply your eyeliner; he’d insisted you get dressed up with him and Rook to go out tonight.

“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.

You stand from the chair in front of his vanity and move hesitantly toward his bed. His silky sheets look perfect - you don’t want to ruin them. Looking back at him, Vil rolls his eyes and gently pushes you toward the bed until you lay back.

You’re left staring up at him on your back, while he sits above you, applying the rest of his products on your face. He’s so close to you, his luscious golden hair almost tickles your face. His pretty purple eyes don’t focus on your own, following his makeup brush.

He looks cute like this, concentrating hard to perfect your makeup. He bites his lip gently, drawing your attention to his pretty mouth, shining with the pink gloss he’d applied earlier.

When he leans away to pick up the blush, you mistakenly think he’s finished and try to sit up. At the same time that you rise, Vil turns back to face you. The timing coincides into an accidental and brief meeting of your lips.

It takes a second for you to realize that the dizziness your feel isn’t due to your racing heart, but the sudden appearance of another vision.

-

The lights flash, bright and blinding. The sharp clicks of cameras obnoxiously disrupt the music heard softly on the street from nearby restaurants and clubs.

You’re rushing away with Vil, hand in hand as he pulls you toward a black limo waiting up ahead. You nearly stumble, but Vil is quick to stabilize you.

Once the two of you escape the paparazzi, you’re left sitting side by side in the backseat of the limo, both breathing heavily. Vil gives the driver instructions to return back to his penthouse.

He turns to you. “Are you okay, darling?”

You feel yourself nod in affirmation, taking ahold of his hand again. He squeezes back.

“I’m sorry they’ve ruined another date. I know it’s hard for you not to have much privacy, but it seems no matter what I do, they find us.” He strokes your hand with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Vil. I knew what I was getting into, dating a celebrity and all that.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Still, they shouldn’t bother us. I may be a celebrity, but you aren’t. You deserve privacy.” He sighs gently. “Has this…impacted our previous discussion?”

You look back up at him. You assume based on past visions that he’s much older now, but he’s kept his youthful and gorgeous look. Even now, his purple eyes make your heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Of course not. I want us to have kids together. You’ll be the best dad and protect them from all this. I know it.”

He kisses you on the lips this time just as your vision begins to end.

-

Vil snaps his fingers over you as you come too, rolling his eyes.

“I know my lips are practically intoxicating, but did you really get that worked up over an accidental peck between friends?”

Your face becomes hot at Vil’s statement, embarrassment setting in. He doesn’t know how right he is.

“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”

Vil laughs gently. “Why? Thinking of more of my kisses? They’ll cost you~”

When you stammer in response, he just ruffles your hair gently.

“I’m just teasing you.”

You stare at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think we can do each other’s makeup platonically anymore.” If it ever was, that is.

Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.

vi. hidden in shadows, warmth comes in waves; idia shroud

The incident with Vil leaves you even more confused than before. It makes you wonder…if just touching isn’t always enough to have a vision, does that mean a future where you end up with Jamil is still possible? You don’t even want to hope, knowing the heartache he’d unknowingly caused you before.

And Vil…having a vision about him makes this complicated. When it was just lingering thoughts you could push to the side of your mind, your growing infatuation with him was easy to ignore. Actually seeing your future with him, has made your heart swell and ache at the same time.

You don’t exactly choose to become friends with Idia, it just kind of happens. Just like the previous situations where you’d attempted to avoid the star of your latest vision, Idia is someone who seems like a good choice to help you stay away from them. He isn’t good friends with Jamil or Vil (or frankly anyone). Incidentally, the two of you become friends after a small argument over an anime (the only topic that allows Idia to temporarily overcome his social anxiety just to disagree with you), and you begin to hang out occasionally.

The more your old friends hang out with the VDC group, the more you begin to make excuses and go play video games with Idia and Ortho.

It feels strangely easy, spending time with Idia. You never have to pretend, and with your shared interests, conversation comes naturally. Once you’ve spent enough time around him, he feels much more comfortable around you, willing to share his (strong) thoughts and opinions on everything.

Idia is very…different than you would’ve guessed before you knew him well. While he can be rude, you find it more funny than offensive, and it’s pretty fun to banter with him. His room holds small glimpses into his true personality; video games he loves, posters of his favourite characters. His passion for these things is clear as day.

Sitting on Idia’s couch, you’re playing against him and Ortho in Super Smash Bros. Ortho immediately claimed Kirby, proceeding to destroy the both of you multiple times until he emerged as the winner.

Despite the loss, both you and Idia can’t help but smile. Ortho makes a celebratory noise, before turning back to you.

“MC, we are about to encounter another rip in the time continuum,” Ortho says. “I’m so excited, do you think it will finally be my big brother’s turn to earn your love?”

“What?” you and Idia say for different reasons.

“How do you know about that?

“Earn their love??”

“It’s part of my programming to monitor all things involving space and time.”

“Huh. Okay.”

You suppose it’s true, you’ve never really touched Idia before. The two of you got along like best friends; it wasn’t so much of a stretch to say you could end up having a future together. You hadn’t thought about it much, in light of recent events.

“Usually you’re the only one able to see, but since Idia’s here, why don’t I show him too!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ortho,” Idia says.

“I think it will be good for you, brother! Don’t worry, I’ll give the both of you some privacy to see your future. It’s approaching in three, two-”

When his countdown reaches one, Ortho plops your hand on top of Idia, making your vision fade once again.

-

The Island of Woe is familiar to you by now, after everything that went down with Idia. The architecture remains impersonal; the uniformity of the blank steel walls reminds you of a maze. The thought had unsettled you, the last time you visited.

Strangely enough, you don’t feel that same sense of anxiety and claustrophobia in this vision. You’re strangely calm; it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that exposure and familiarity has dulled these feelings.

The scene is devastatingly unsurprising. You suppose you’d always known what Idia’s future would be; what all his ancestors futures had been. That hadn’t lessened the spark of hope you’d been carrying that perhaps things might turn out differently than he believed.

You had a bad habit of that: false hope for Jamil, false hope for Idia. It didn’t truly do anyone any good, no matter how much you wished it to.

You’re in Idia’s room. Aside from its size and how nice it is, the decor is a clear giveaway. The posters that line the walls aren’t from media you recognize, so it must be future content, but it’s all in line with Idia’s current tastes. You’re happy he has that, at least. You even catch a glimpse of a couple of his old posters from NRC rolled up in his closet. A few pieces even stand out, things that seem much more suited to your taste than his own.

A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.

“Hey MC.”

“Hi Idia,” you feel your lips gently pull up in the corners. Despite ‘your’ outward expression in the vision, you feel a small twinge of pain in your chest.

Idia’s entrance into his room (your room?) lets you take a close look at him. Even ten or so years later, it seems he hasn’t been able to rid himself of his eye bags. Even so, you still think he looks nice, his vibrant hair illuminating his pretty face. He’s cute, smiling back at you.

“Sorry I’m back late again. There’s been so many problems with the new system update, even Ortho can’t handle it himself.” Idia’s expression drops a little.

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

Idia comes to sit beside you on the bed, head turning toward you. “Is it though? Stuck down here with me, and I can’t even be by your side half the time. I doubt this is the life you- anyone would dream of.”

“I miss you, of course I do. But I chose this life. I chose you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

The tears well in your eyes before you can stop them, and Idia’s panic only rises once he notices.

“Gah!! No, MC, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sevens, I’m so stupid.” Idia awkwardly pulls you into his arms, and you begin wipe your tears onto his shoulder as you settle down.

“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you sniffle.

“Don’t apologize, it was my fault. I don’t know why, every time I try to tell you how I feel, it always just comes out wrong. I try to tell you that I love you, that you deserve better than to be stuck here with me, and it comes out like that.”

“Idia…I know what you meant, it just took me by surprise to hear those words.”

“Loving you is supposed to be the one thing I can do to make your life here better, and I can’t even do it right.”

“Says who? Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?”

“I made you cry, MC! Something is wrong with me…”Idia’s cheeks flush pink as he stares at his feet.

You want to comfort him, to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but you quickly feel yourself being pulled away. You’ve never wished more than to have a few more moments in a vision.

-

The room remains silent for a minute after the vision ends, the both of you trying to process what had happened.

“Idia…” you say, trying to bridge the gap between you, but not exactly knowing how.

“Maybe- I uh - maybe you should leave?” Idia says sheepishly.

“Leave? What did I do?” you say, feeling a bit hurt by his suddenly rejection.

“Nothing! I just- I’m sorry, I need some time. I can’t speak right now, I need to be alone.” Idia is clearly panicked, so you follow his brother to the exit.

“Sorry, MC,” Ortho says, opening the door for you. “Sometimes Idia gets overwhelmed in situations like this. Please, give him time and…please don’t give up on him like everyone else does.”

vii. sun and moon, forever in orbit; malleus draconia

You’ve known Malleus as long as you’ve known Riddle, but despite your blooming friendship, you’ve never had the chance to touch him before. The fae always seemed to prefer to keep his distance when visiting you at Ramshackle; close enough to talk, too far to touch.

That all changes when you finally agree to join the gargoyle studies club. It’s not as though you’d purposefully avoided it before, there’d just always been too much going on to really think about joining any of the clubs.

With Idia shutting you out, you were in dire need of a new hobby that would allow you to finally avoid thinking about what had gone down with him in the days before.

When Malleus finally strolls by Ramshackle again, you’re able to inform him of your intention to join his club.

It’s a remarkable thing, having stunned the fae prince into momentary silence at your request. He furrows his brow before replying.

“I do hope you aren’t making a joke at my expense, prefect. That would be rather cruel of you.”

You wave away his words, telling him that you’re entirely serious. He looks you up and down for a moment before a playful grin pulls at his lips.

“I suppose I will see you in our meeting on thursday, then. Please, don’t be late. We have much to see.”

-

Weekly meetings become bi-weekly, and soon you’re meeting up with Malleus almost daily. Since it’s only the two of you in the club, you take certain liberties when it comes to subject matter. You agree to let Malleus show you some ruins and he, in turn, agrees to watch the bachelor with you.

You don’t even like the show, but Malleus’ reactions are the real entertainment. He’s surprisingly sassy and opinionated about all the drama, although he tends to get confused on ‘human customs’ as he so puts it.

“Why won’t he make a choice? It’s clear who he truly desires,” Malleus asks one day, sitting on Ramshackle’s beat up couch as you watch the reality show together on your laptop.

“I don’t know, the guys on this show are always like this. They want to keep around as many options as possible until they’re forced to choose,” you mumble, mouth full of popcorn.

“Human men are fickle.”

You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”

He takes a moment to answer. “Some. Not dragon fae. Once we choose a person to love, we give everything to them, and expect the same in return.”

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you turn back to the screen. Throughout the rest of the episode, you can feel Malleus’ gaze flicker between yourself and the show, not fully invested like you are.

-

You’re not oblivious to his hints. It’s clear that things between you are become more than friendly, but it’s difficult to know how you feel about it.

On one hand, Malleus has always felt strangely charming to you, despite how he often came off to others. There was something about him, or perhaps just the sum of his parts that came together perfectly to make him into a wonderful being.

Spending time together and getting close felt nice, but you were far too used to this pattern to not feel worried about some kind of impending doom. It seemed every time you had a nice friendship, things would fall apart as soon as you found out about your future together.

Even when pleasant, the strangeness of the experience makes it uncomfortable to be around them again. You’ve felt bad avoiding your friends, but there isn’t much you can do to change your feelings.

Even worse - what if your vision with Malleus isn’t positive? After what you saw with Idia, the fear lingers in your mind.

Once you opened the gate, questions begun to flood your brain. What would a future be like with Malleus? Would that even be possible? Would you be his consort? Would a relationship between a human and fae be accepted? Would you be able to handle it? The anxieties were endless.

You think about telling him about everything. About Riddle, Leona…but how would he react? You tell yourself that it’s better if he doesn’t know. At least not until after.

He’s the first one you touch on purpose; you have to know.

A casual stroll around Ramshackle leads to the purposeful brushing of fingers, and you’re pulled into a familiar haze.

-

You’ve never been to Briar Valley, but you know with certainty that your vision takes place there.

The hall you sit in is long, gold trims running along the walls. The black dragon heraldry mounted above the fireplace at the end of the room looks more expensive than anything you’ve seen in your life.

Two wide doors swing open, and Malleus finally enters the room. He isn’t alone.

A small black shape zooms past his legs, plopping itself in front of you.

“Daddy and I picked you flowers from the garden!”

The blur isn’t some shadow, but instead a small child. Five or six, if you had to guess. If her words didn’t give away her parentage, the small, stubby horns peaking out from the top of her head of dark hair certainly told you this was Malleus’ daughter.

“Thank you, sweetie.” You smile at her, taking the flowers she drops in your hand. There’s still some dirt and roots attached, but she’s so adorable, you truly don’t mind.

“Can Uncle Silver take me horseback ridding today?” she asks you. “Daddy said it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.” She blinks at you sweetly.

“Alright, I suppose. Just be careful, dear,” you reply.

“I have the best parents in all the kingdoms!” she shouted, running along to her chambers to get ready, leaving only you in Malleus in the room.

“She’s so lively today,” you comment, looking up at him.

“Indeed,” he replies, coming to rest beside you. “You look beautiful, my love.”

“And you, my king.”

The two of you share a kiss. It’s all so - dizzying. It’s not unexpected to have a child with Malleus - you had one with Riddle, but this is different. This child is older, she knows you, she feels so real.

He pulls away to smile at you. “I have a gift for you.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Need there be one for me to celebrate my wonderful spouse?”

“I suppose not. Thank you, Malleus. No matter how many gifts you give, I will treasure them all.”

He pulls out a box from his pocket, asking you to turn around. You feel him guide a cold band around your neck, clasping it in the back. He then places a small, handheld mirror in your hands, urging you to look.

The necklace he’s given you is beyond stunning. It’s silver, with a dazzling gemstone in the middle. You don’t even want to ponder how much it must’ve cost.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

It’s strange - seeing yourself much older when Malleus looks the same. It unsettles you more than you’d like to admit. It’s one thing to know you’ll age at different rates and another to see it with your own eyes.

This must be something on your mind in the future as well, because of the next thing you decide to ask Malleus.

“Will I see her grow up? For me, it feels like she’s been young forever. I love it and yet…I want to see more of her life than just this.”

He doesn’t ask who you’re referring to. “You will. You’ll see most. I was practicing mature by my eighty-first birthday.”

You sigh. “I may not even get that far. I’m healthy now, but who knows. The curses of being human…”

He tilts your chin to face him. “It is not a curse to me, my love. I chose you, and I would again.”

There’s infinitely more to discuss, but you already feel yourself slipping away.

-

You come to from the vision mid walk. Malleus is unaffected, seemingly still in the middle of one of his explanations behind the rich history of one of gargoyles you’d just passed by.

When he notices your silence and turns to ask if you’re alright, you have no response for him.

It seems almost selfish, for you to choose him. Why- why did there need to be so many things wrong? Why did you have to be human, to pain him and your future children by leaving them behind so early?

The joy and the pain - would it all truly be worth it? Or would it be better for it to have never happened?

Malleus looks at you with concern, wiping the tears suddenly cascading down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, my child of man?”

Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.

viii. all things end, all that we intend; conclusion

Seven beautiful souls, all potential endings. Every future you glimpsed has it’s own charms, and it’s own poisons.

Which future will you choose? One of them? Or perhaps…another?

"MY TYPE IS..." with TWISTED WONDERLAND

synopsis: you respond to a "what's your type?" question with his name. how does he react?

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, & deuce x gn! painfully blunt! reader

includes: cursing, non-explicit makeout mention,

heartslabyul(here), savanaclaw+octavinelle, scarabia+pomefiore, ignihyde+disomania.

grim, as always, was nagging you with questions in front of your crush and group of friends. they're all left to their own devices until grim asks, "what's your type?" and the attention of your crush falls on you for your answer.

riddle rosehearts, dorm leader of heartslabyul.

"my ideal type? well, he's red-haired, with grey eyes, whose short and just happens to be the dorm leader of heartslabyul!"

the "ideal crush" in question was as red as his hair. he almost spits his tea out.

you practically confessed to riddle! or at least told him he's the type you're looking for.

riddle looks at you like you've gone mad, not even realizing he's been actively staring at you.

"[name], are you serious?" he questions, calming himself down. you look at him confused.

"why wouldn't i be serious? was my clear description of you, riddle rosehearts, my crush, not enough?"

he still looks at you confused. riddle fully understands, it's just.. you're being so straightforward about it! he can't handle how blunt you're being with your advances.

you sigh, "since you still aren't understanding, i like you riddle. is that clear enough?"

"no, i am not as red as my hair! ugh, yes, [name]. i understood just well. it just took me a while to get used to how blunt you were. but, i guess i could say you're my ideal type too. and i guess i like you too."

trey clover, vice dorm leader of heartslabyul.

"my type's obviously a green-haired, amber-eyes, glasses-wearing, hot baker with a clover on his cheek."

doth trey's ears deceive him? you obviously just described him. he has green hair, yellow eyes, glasses, and a clover on his cheek. plus, he's a baker!

trey doesn't even realize he's stared at you, the tart he made long forgotten on his plate.

you stare at him like you didn't just say he was your type. "um, [name]?" "yeah?"

trey looks at you, takes a deep breath and asks, "do you like me?"

"of course i do, silly! i wouldn't have described you as my type if i didn't."

trey takes a deep breath once again. thank the great seven.

"oh thank goodness. i liked you too but i didn't really know how to approach it. i was gonna make you a (favorite dessert) with "will you be mine?" on it, but i guess i don't have to anymore. oh? i should still do it? well, i guess you'll just have to come over to heartslabyul tonight for a surprise, dear."

cater diamond, heartslabyul third year.

"do you even have eyes? my type is this really cute guy with orange hair, green eyes, a red diamond on his face, a heartslabyul third year and magicam influencer! aka, the hottest guy in the world!"

he squeals. cater lets out a loud, high-pitched, squeal that would be associated with preppy high school girls in movies. people would have noticed if it wasn't for the already loud cafeteria.

he moves to the seat next to you, holding you by your waist.

"[name], do you really like me?" the smile on his face blinds you, but you can see he has a hint of worry in his green eyes. imagine how disappointed he'd be if you were to like some other heartslabyul guy that looked exactly like him.

you lean in, hooking a arm around his neck and using your hand to push his head into your lips. your lips kiss him and you can taste his lime tart and cherry chapstick.

"is.. is that enough to prove to you that i love you?" you pant after the kiss, looking at cater's reddened face.

"haha! that was more than enough, but how about you prove to me how much you love me a bit more, cutie?"

(you guys make out and have to be forcefully separated becuase the friend group does NOT approve of the pda.)

ace trappola, heartslabyul first year.

"okay, so he's a fucking pain in the ass and a stupid idiot but i love him, y'know? his orange-red hair and the stupid heart on his face and that silly grin his makes when he does something dumb like breaking riddles rules or messes up a potion or something.. he may be a fucking dumbass but he's a dumbass i have a crush on."

first of all, ouch.

he's not a pain in the ass or a stupid idiot! and his heart isn't stupid and his grin isn't silly- wait, did you say you have a crush on him?

ace is flattered, but that would never ever stop him from being a little shit about it.

i mean, you called him a stupid idiot you love, right? so that means that he can be a dumbass and you'll still forgive him, right? of course you will, he thinks.

"[nickname]~ you have a crush on me? aww, you're too cute! of course you'd like me, i'm hot, i have a cute grin,-- what! i'm not an idiot!"

deuce spade, heartslabyul first year.

"what a silly question! anyways, my type is tall, blue-haired, and a real cutie! he has this cute little spade on his face but hes kinda dumb. i love it about him though! the pout on his face he gets when he's confused is adorable!"

queue cute, confused deuce.

"aw look, he's doing the little confusion pout right now! ah, i have the biggest crush on him!" you gush, and the color drains from his face before it comes back as a vibrant red blush.

he bangs his head on the table, making a cute whimpering noise.

when he finally looks up, still blushing, he's met with your smile and almost topples over. you're gonna give him a heart attack!

"don't embarrass me like that! ugh, but since we're on the matter, y-yeah i like you, too."

This is SO COOL wtf

They didn't even tease the illustration first and displayed the grayscale prototype like they usually do? Literally just: "Hi you can order Idia now! You have 3 months to scrounge up an insane amount of cash to get him!"

Wtaf bless you Idia girlies. Good luck.

Hi there! :D I saw that resquest are open so I wanted to make mine: I couldn't help but imagine a scenario where the reader finds a sad Grim crying because he doesn't feel like he's progressing or improving as a wizard. So the reader cradles Grim (like the baby cat he is) and sings him the song: Baby of Mine from the Dumbo movie.

Take your time and no pressure, bye <3 <3

Characters: Grim !platonic x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: Comforting Grim

Warnings: fluff, spelling mistakes

Grim

“Grim?” You called out his name worried since he just lay in bed with the covers over his head and didn’t even say good night. He’s been like that ever since school. He's been just silent—nothing—no calling you a henchman, no asking you for tuna, nothing. "Grim,” you say again, yet again, nothing.

You pull off the cover from him, face first in the bed. “Grim, are you crying?” You whisper, “Go away, human.” He grumbled. You hear his throat drying up, and he was trying to stop himself from crying. "Grim, what’s wrong? You can tell me.” You comfort him while trying to pry him off so he wouldn’t be face first on the bed.

“What’s wrong, grim? Please tell me I’ll listen.” You try to persuade an answer out of him: “Everything is so stupid. I’m trying my hardest, but I’m still not good enough. I don’t understand the books we read or the potions we make; it’s so dumb! I’m supposed to be the great grim, but I can’t doo anything."Grim explodes in your face, telling you all at once what was bothering him.

“Let go, henchmen!” You ignore his complaint and cradle him in your arm while you hear an assortment of “let go." "Stop, I’m not a baby,” “I’ll burn,” and much more. "Just listen,” you say.

“Baby mine, don’t you cry.”

“Baby mine, don’t you cry.”

“Rest your head close to my heart.

“Baby mine, don’t you cry.”

Yet with only a couple of verses, it got Grim to pass out. You put him down in your arms and put him in bed before continuing on.

“Little one, when you play

Don't you mind what you say?

Let those eyes sparkle and shine.

Never a tear, baby of mine.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

✎ treasure

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them

genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort

note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"No!"

"Why? This helps—"

"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"

Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.

Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.

However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.

"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"

"You are!"

Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!

When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.

But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.

That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.

"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"

Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.

His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"

Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.

"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"

"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.

Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.

It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.

Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—

His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”

Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.

"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."

"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"

You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.

Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.

You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."

Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.

"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."

Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.

Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.

You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.

"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:

"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."