Onyx

He/Him, Bi, 21 Just a guy who likes to write sometimes. Leave an ask so I can write more lol https://ko-fi.com/neonwrites - Help me afford a place to live

[n30nwrites]

Introduction

Call me Neon, just here for writing. (He/Him only)

Requests are Open

Basics - I'm 21 - Kind of a basic writer - I try to tag things right but sometimes I'm unsure, if anything needs a warning just let me know.

AO3

Wattpad

Fandom List (Can request any fic from these fandoms I am in.)

Ko-Fi

Under the cut is the link to Masterlist of tumblr fics

Call of Duty

Persona 5

The Originals/The Vampire Diaries

The lost boys

Resident Evil

Twilight

More to be added

[bigblacksweater]

yall are actual losers trying to pirate the shawn hatosy quinn audio.

they are gonna stop inviting celebrities.

[n30nwrites]

I will say this about Quinn and pirating.

1 - I remember when they cut out trans women from when Hudson Williams brought them up in an interview. Now they said it was cause being trans isn’t a sexual orientation which they’re right but they still cut them out in the interview which they’ve now deleted. They donated 25,000$ to a trans organization which is good but if your trans it’s your decision on how you feel about that

2 - I am more bothered by the audio they made that literally had police brutality in it??? Like the erotic audio was literally tagged with having tear gas, police brutality, and political activism. Right after they get done with a protest, they have sex. Which is a crazy thing to do. This is something I more or less can’t forgive. With people literally dying, nothing should be made erotic about protesting or about police brutality. Even if it was just lightly touched over, people of color die everyday due to police brutality, that’s not something sexy so the fact that they had the audacity to do that is fucking wild. And instead of really addressing it they deleted it and found ways to hide the warnings.

3 - for not working with a voice actor and claiming “hate speech” is crazy. Quinn received messages from Pro-Israel Zionist authors about their voice actor Zach who spoke out against him and that’s why he lost his job. He was defending himself against death threats he got from zionists. And he was completely right, if you are a Zionist you should not exist.

4 - they also allegedly had audio that was similar to dv, this is all alleged because id need to look more into it

These companies do not care about people. Take this information how you will though and no hate to who i reblogged this from.

But white people trying to make police brutality sexy lose all my respect.

[spacedewey]

Call me old fashioned, but I think the president saying "a whole civilization will die tonight" is the part where he should be deposed immediately.

[yumesafespades]

Nobody’s Love

The three times you’re set aside by your crushes and the one time they spend their life all fighting for you.

Ft. (Reverse-Harem) Gojo Satoru x Reader, Nanami Kento x Reader, Ryomen Sukuna x Reader.

Abstract: You’re the twin sister to one Geto Aimi and the younger sister to Geto Suguru. It doesn’t get any worse than being the middle child, but you’re also in the shadow of your twin. You’re constantly outshined by her genius talent and ability to charm anyone she comes across. There’s little effort in the way she attracts romantic, platonic and even familial love. In comparison, you’re plain, too awkward, and too introverted.

Content: Extreme groveling, jealousy, envy, regret, unrequited love/crush, avoidant attachment style, Suguru is lowkey a bad brother, the other three get their fair share of being the worst, requited love/crush but only when it’s lowkey too late, yearning on another level, the three of them are all down bad, I lowkenuinely think they all deserve a chance.

Smut tags: TBA m

wc. 9.4K (I cooked with this one I’d like to think)

A/N: I did not proofread this so there may be some errors. I’ll make a header since I want this to be a full distinguished series but I’m a flake so this may be the only part anyone (you and me) will get. I will make an interesting header when I can I’m just lazy honestly.

You are Geto Suguru’s younger sister, and a twin to none other than Geto Aimi, the youngest by 10 minutes, she was the most beautiful baby the doctors and nurses had ever seen. Even coming across her in the infant section, outsiders would awe and coo at her from across the window.

That’s what you hear anyway. Nothing ever so fond or glamorous said about you. You wonder if your parents even recognized you were her twin or rather if they only saw her based on her beauty and limitless talent.

Between the both of you she started crying first, babbling first, crawling first, walking first. You were following after her not only a few hours or a mere day behind. Yet her accomplishments were celebrated in full and yours was always a half-hearted attempt. She was a rather demanding child and somehow your baby-self knew not to be so needy when it came to attention or wanting anything. Maybe a part of you knew you wouldn’t get it, so much so that it wouldn’t be worth trying.

Even if Suguru attempts to not show it in the same extreme fashion your parents do, he has shown bias and favoritism towards her as well. Things that you wonder if he does or cannot control. Like giving her the part of the chicken that you like but are too exhausted to say you do because Aimi also likes that part; ruffling her hair, hugging her more often, or even bothering her more, opting to sit with her in the couch rather than you; allowing her first pick on movie nights and even snacks, even if you want the same one, the both of them would only say something like “Get something different. We can all share after.” And then Aimi would whine about you hogging the flavor she got that you initially wanted, to which Suguru would only tell you to eat your own.

It’s getting exhausting honestly. Feeling next to nothing compared to someone so perfect and so… beloved by everyone around her. Any slight you say that’s off could be considered a slight against her or misinterpreted aggression based on jealousy or something you knew the others around the two of you projected how you must have felt.

It wasn’t a secret either, how much less involved everyone was with you. Going to Aimi’s dance recitals over your piano performances because “ballet was so much more difficult than piano and any average person could learn piano but not everyone could afford to perfect ballet.” Everyone around you saw this but did nothing about it, and you knew they assumed the worst of you whenever you interacted with Aimi and she ended up crying because of something you said that wasn’t intended to be out of bad faith.

Suguru and both your parents lecturing you on how sensitive she was and that she’s the youngest (for not even 5 minutes) that she should be spoken to more warily of.

Everyone just thinks that because you’re aware of how much you’re less loved than her it makes you hate her. Or at least hold some kind of grudge against her in any capacity or way. That’s not true, you’re more upset about the people around you not treating you fairly. It’s not yours or Aimi’s fault that she’s “more loved” or “more perfect” than you.

This not only manifests in simple things like individual accomplishments but romantic relationships and friendships. It in fact got worse from there on out. After elementary you both were never put in the same classroom and anytime a new year came up, students would gossip and talk, hoping that they got the “pretty Geto twin” in their class. As if you both weren’t born with the same face.

This got even worse when it was personal. The introduction of Gojo Satoru was only the tip of the iceberg. A close friend of your brother, and by extension, your sister. Not you apparently… you all met him in middle school. Aimi was in fact the first one to approach him after he had done something ridiculously snooty and after he tried to talk back to her, Suguru stepped in.

After their defiance towards him that day, he found and attached himself to the two of them. Even if you did consider yourself as part of the group, it was like the world consisted of them three. You were aware he was aware of the silent mistreatment and exclusion but didn’t say anything.

He didn’t outright say or tell you he hated you, not even hate. Disliked? No, too negative. Disinterested is more like it, like you weren’t anything worth noting or paying attention to. This was usually displayed when Suguru or Aimi were occupied, either at the same time or only one of them could attend to his endless whims and had left him with you.

Yeah right. Like you could bide his time and energy down.

It was raining, the both of you under the cover of another building’s ledge while you waited for both Suguru and Aimi to come back. Both of them are looking to get service past the heavy rainout and obstructive clouds. While Satoru tapped the tip of his shoes against the flooring, erratically in motion with his own personal tune; you waited patiently as long as possible, unable to stop the restlessness of your own body.

You wanted to go back home and bury yourself under the covers while you multitasked on your pink 3DS and black PsP. You played whatever games were leftover that Aimi didn’t want when your parents bought you both the handheld consoles. (Aimi got both pink consoles while you had to settle for a black PsP because when your parents bought them, the pink ones had all but one remaining).

Satoru scoffs as he looks down, he doesn’t bother looking your way when he fidgets around, not entirely bothered by the heavy rainfall. “Where are they?” A downwards quirk makes its way on his lips as his utterance of the words speaks in existence come by the misery of their absence.

It shouldn’t all be miserable. You’re still here too. It's not like he’s alone in this.

“… how was school, Satoru?” You mumble out the words.

“Huh?” He turns to you, mouth agape as he looks down at you—because he’s tall, not because he’s disrespecting you—in a way that he’s surprised you even thought to ask.

“School?” You repeat. “How is it?”

“Fine. You?”

Here it is. This is your chance, your golden opportunity to make him like you!

“It’s been going well.” You say, looking for the words to string into the following sequence. “I’m doing well in my extracurriculars and classes. My parents say that they’ll attend my next piano recital, since it doesn’t land on the day of Aimi’s ballet lesson.”

You wait a beat.

“…That’s good.” Satoru’s taken the moment to look yonder, across the road.

You wait a beat longer.

“—I’m also president of my current club. If you haven’t heard, we’re the astrology club, but because we’re so small we also do—“

Satoru interrupts, “I’ve been to Aimi’s dance recitals before, she’s great.”

You pause. “Y-yeah. She’s amazing, I hear ballet is really hard so…” you trail off after that.

“If you have time, only if you do—I don’t want to cut into your busy schedule—would you like to come to my piano recital?” Your heart beat jumps.

“Uhhh, thanks for the invite I guess. Maybe if Suguru’s willing to bring me?” Satoru replies come half-heartedly. He’s searching for the words teetering over guilt on one side but very hesitant in disinterest over the other.

Another time had been when Satoru came over (the only reason you call him by Satoru instead of Gojo is due to the habit of hearing your siblings refer to him as Satoru so often) and while playing video games, both Aimi and Suguru left to use the bathroom. You and Satoru sat in silence for what felt like ten minutes but in reality was only two minutes—you know this because you had your eye on the console the entire time.

“… do you want to keep playing without them…?” The question rises out of your throat before you can stop yourself.

Satoru gives you a certain look, unsure and hesitant before he matches your confused ask with a nod and readies his controller close to his chest. You do the same as you both resume the game.

Instead of the incessant laughter and joking, it’s awkward and perpetual silence. Since it’s only you two in the game, Suguru’s and Aimi’s players are stationary. When it comes to a 1v1v1v1 mini-game, their avatars are the first to go, while it’s you and Satoru against one another; no matter how you try to slight him in the game to at least cause a modicum of enjoyment from his expression.

It ends with you winning—merely because he hadn’t even tried in the first place—that should make you happy. You never won when it was the four of you, or were this involved in a game with human interaction or contact. When the “Player 4 Wins!” Screen comes on, you four are all brought back into the main game after deeming you the winner of the mini game. From there he drops his controller on the floor in the same moment he stands.

“This is boring. I’m going to find them.” Satoru doesn’t bother checking for your expression and leaves.

There’s a sting in your heart that you can’t seem to get rid of.

You were aware you never stood a chance with Satoru Gojo. Not only was he the sole heir to a mega capitalistic empire that catered to his every want and whim, but a genius to boot. He sure didn’t act like it; more arrogant, cocky and self-interested in personality. Someone like him could only be tamed by Aimi’s own fire and spark.

You couldn’t help but want to be more important to him though. His self esteem and confidence drew you in, merely because you felt as if you lacked it yourself. But there were moments where you looked deeper and could find more to Satoru that you know he showed to the other two. Things you wished you were at least important enough to be let in on too.

Then Ryomen Sukuna who had also became your brother’s friend in association with his brother, Choso Kamo, and Aimi’s friend who is also both their brothers, Itadori Yuuji. You don’t know where Suguru and Aimi are getting these friends from, their past life karma must be amazing.

You were lucky enough to be able to tag along with your siblings to this party. The only reason you got to go in the first place is because Aimi begged you to come along with her and beg Suguru to let you guys go. She claimed it to be the power of two. Using you and saying that you would watch over her the whole time she was there. But you knew deep inside that if it were only her puppy dog eyes, Suguru would let her go anyway.

And that Suguru would come along too.

That’s how you “met” Sukuna. Who was sliding in around your sister, not behind her but shielding her from some handsy jerk that kept trying to reach her on the dance floor. You only managed to see this because you were nursing a cup of orange juice in the booth, watching everyone else’s drinks while they danced away.

His aesthetic and vibe were what drew you in. The colored lighting fanning down on his golden skin, a light sheen of sweat glossing over his exposed biceps like candy. While his wife-beater’s tank top gave way to the open frame of his broad and muscular chest. Then to the thick bands of black wrapped around his bicep, and wrists. Not to mention his piercings, oh goodness his piercings. He was a goddamn dark romance wet dream.

The tongue piercing that you only knew was there because he drew his tongue out to show Aimi in a sort of teasing fashion paired with his ridiculously cocky smirk. Then the shiny barbell that poked through in the space of his eyebrow slit. You can only suspect that he has another one down… there.

He swayed easily with the beat in a protective cocoon around her that kept her from the creep, but also allowed her to be nestled comfortably in his space that you were aware of knowing him for only a couple of hours that he reserved rightfully for only a handful of people.

Suguru is nowhere to be found, probably trying to hassle Satoru and the others that came with you all. Wasn’t there for when Sukuna sucker punches someone in the name of your younger sister. Almost developing into a full blown fight if it weren’t for her tugging him away and apologizing in the wake of everybody else when they walked out.

You follow after them, forgoing the safety of the drinks—you doubt anybody would come back to get them anyway, plus, your sister mattered more.

When you get outside, you find the two of them off to the side, he’s leaning against the wall and Aimi is apologizing and fussing over him. When you get closer there’s no doubt about the change in his expression, something that can only be described as soft and fond when his sight settles onto Aimi.

You’ve only known and seen him with that precarious scowl and hardened expression. Intimidating and disinterested in all but soft to those he cares about.

You’ve played these games before unfortunately. You know the moment you approach he’ll go back to being hardened and speculative, and mask any sort of softness he has. And you’re right (you hate being right).

When you approach close enough you keep your voice gentle and wary, your hand touching Aimi on her shoulder and the other on her forearm. You rotate her around a bit to check her for any marks.

“I’m alright sis.” She reaches her arms out to hug you tightly and when you do you can’t help but look over to Sukuna. His gentle expression gone, traded for the hardened and defensive one.

“Don’t be like that.” She swats at his arm. “This is my twin sister I’ve told you about.”

He gruffs and nods in your direction, not even a second of attention is placed on you before he asks her “Did he touch you anywhere else?”

“No. Thank you Suku.” She smiles up at him, her signature puppy dog eyes and her false lashes batting at him.

There’s a rise in a red hue flushed across his ears and cheeks that brightens and sweetens his complexion. He looks away from her ever so boyishly.

“There you guys are!” Suguru pulls up beside you, everyone else trailing behind him. Satoru slides in and nearly pushes you away while he takes up the space next to Aimi.

“Aimi! I mished you!” His words slur as he clamps onto her, nose buried into her fancy updo.

“Get off her.” Sukuna snarls as he pushes Satoru away and tugs Aimi closer into his chest.

“Both of you need to get your grubby little hands off my baby sister.” Suguru snaps, pulling Aimi back.

“Now explain what happened and why you’re all out here.”

Sukuna and Aimi take turns explaining what happened, Aimi leaving out aspects of how the creep truly touched her—to which Sukuna fills those in. Sukuna leaves out aspects of his fight—to which Aimi fills those in. Back and forth until the present.

“Why didn’t you watch over her?” Suguru nearly snaps to you, his frustration nearly toppling over enough that it sobers you from your exhaustion.

You fumble on your words. This was not on your bingo card for the night. “I-I thought it was okay. She was having fun and Ryomen—“

“But you’re her older sister.” By 5 minutes.

“You should have taken the foresight to pull her away. Take a break or something.”

“Suguru it’s okay.” Aimi tries to pull him away, his ire spilling over on you.

“No. This can’t be something that just happens and you have to be okay with it. Your sister should have known better.”

Your sister. As if you weren’t his sister, too.

“Okay fine! I’ll do fucking better next time. I’ll keep her on a damn leash and drag her around like a puppy if she acts out.” You scream.

Suguru’s expression flickers, from anger to guilt. He calls your name but you’ve turned around to walk off back into the house. You know that the four of them are going to leave and you’ll just grab an uber on the way back.

“Wait!” Suguru’s fighting to follow after you but he loses you as soon as you step inside and blend in with the sea of people.

Many spam calls from him take over your phone when you’re trying to self appease with fanfiction but you end up just texting him.

You: Take Aimi back home, I’ll get my own ride back home.

Then you block him.

A part of you hopes he stays and searches for you. It’s not like you’re trying super hard to hide. You’re just off in some discreet corner but it’s not like you tried to hide from him in the basement or something.

But when you check their locations they’ve already driven off.

Shoko, Utahime, and Choso have found you after getting the kids (Nobara, Itadori, Maki, Inumaki and Panda) a ride back home. Offering to give you a ride back to which you gratefully accept. You’re very glad they ignore your sniffling all the way back.

The other times you’ve encountered Sukuna are when he’s at your guy’s mansion and you and Aimi happened to be baking at the same time. Or well you finished your batch and hers is still sitting in the oven.

You’ve been into working out and wanted to try many many recipes to supplement the craving of sugary sweets that would soon be your downfall if you ingested them long enough. This time you’re making baked protein brownies instead of the microwaveable protein brownies.

When you’re chewing one, that's when Sukuna comes into the kitchen. Awkwardly as you’re eating you hum and give a nod of acknowledgment in his direction as he returns it with a nod as well.

He’s looking around in the cupboards but is unable to find what he’s searching for.

When you finish chewing you ask, “Are you thirsty?”

Sukuna responds with a gruff yes.

“There’s water bottles in the fridge.”

He follows through, and without a second to waste he holds the bottle up high and gulps down the liquid. You can’t help but eye the way his Adam’s Apple bobs with every movement, some trickling droplets sliding down his chin further to his collarbone.

When he’s done he caps the bottle and settles for a moment. You take the opportunity to ask, “Do you want to try one? They’ve cooled enough.” You gesture to the tray.

He shakes his head, wiping the stray droplet with the collar of his shirt.

You try again. “They’re protein brownies.” You know with someone that muscular it’s not without a doubt that they workout.

“No thanks.” He actually speaks to you, tone firm and even. You take the hint.

The timer goes off startling the both of you and Aimi rushes into the kitchen. “My muffins are done!”

Aimi takes out the tray and begins to fan at the steaming delicacies. Golden and wafting with all the sweetness in the world. In her rush here the coils of her hair from being halfway curled twirl in her face matched with the sheen of sweat making her look otherworldly. You’re jealous you don’t even look half as stunning as that when you sweat.

“Here Sukuna, try one!” After having one that’s cooled down, she cups it at the bottom and with her thumb and pointer she offers it up to his lips.

Very obediently, he leans down and takes a bite.

“How is it?” Aimi asks, eagerly seen by the rocking of the balls of her feet back and forth.

“I don’t know… I didn’t think little squirrels knew how to bake.” He teases with the most intense grin, wiping away at the crumbs with the back of his hand.

“I’m not a squirrel! That’s the least attractive animal you could’ve compared me to!”

“What? Squirrels are small, fast, and they scurry.” He raises both hands up in defense before folding them over his chest, bolstering his bicep muscles and practically making the muscles over his chest pop out. “And didn’t you just scurry over here to check on your muffins? Sounds a lot like a squirrel with her acorns.”

“Sukuna, if you keep being so mean, I'm going to tell Sugu.”

“Go ahead, what’s Sugu gonna do about it?”

She huffs dramatically and turns over to you, seeing you munch away at your third brownie, watching them as if you haven’t been here the entire time. “Sister…” her voice pitches high and whiny.

“Can I have one…?” She comes to you with a pout and her hands pressed together in a prayer.

You look away and press your hand flat against her face and push her away. “Why should I? Last time I made it, you ate it all before the third day.”

“It’s all gonna go into my tummy anyway.” She whines.

“They’re protein brownies, they’re meant to keep you fuller with less. I don’t know how you can stomach it all.”

“The power of my full tummy is comparable to none!”

With less reluctance than before you let her snatch a couple, cheeks full, much to Sukuna’s comparison, looking as cute as a squirrel. From behind her Sukuna still has his arms folded over his chest and looking over her. You don’t think he realizes it but he has such a fond grin on his face.

“Sukuna! Come try some!”

With no hesitation he makes his way to her side and grabs one from her plate.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“Not anymore.” As he drops it into his mouth.

There’s some chewing going on, and you refrain from acknowledging it but there’s a minuscule bit of hope that he’ll say something kind or at least doesn’t show disinterest.

“How is it?” Aimi asks, head tilting and even if she doesn’t realize it, she’s batting her lashes at him again.

“S fine, like yours better.” There goes your pride. You have half the mind to know that he only said that because she’s who he actually likes.

This is the time that lets you know for sure to move on from Sukuna, it was just a little crush anyway and it’s not like you stood much of a chance.

You got into a little fight with Aimi and started ignoring her. Little things like her wearing your clothes without permission or using your makeup and not cleaning it up, or even messing up your well aesthetically curated space. This just so happened when Sukuna was around and Aimi had enough of being ignored.

You both don’t realize it but Sukuna entered the house, probably waiting for Suguru but overhead you both arguing.

“Stop ignoring me! I said I was sorry!”

“Shut up! I don’t care, I’m still mad!”

You stomp down the stairs, unaware that Sukuna is sitting on the couch in the living room.

“You can still be mad but why did you throw my toothbrush away?”

“I didn’t throw it away!”

“Liar!” She screams back, voice reaching a pitch that makes your throat ache from hearing it.

“You fucking child! Why can’t you just give me my space?! Why don’t you ever listen to my boundaries?!”

“I never make you ask for my stuff!”

“I never even fucking take your stuff!”

“Yes you fucking do!”

By this time Aimi has come downstairs and tears are streaming down her face as she stomps following after you.

“I told you I didn’t take your toothbrush you dumbass bitch!”

“Don’t call me that!” And that’s her final tipping point before she wails and buries her hands in her face and sobs away.

“Apologize to her, now.” You don’t even realize it, Sukuna stepped in behind her and took her close to him, letting her sob into his chest and shudder every time she exhales.

“This isn’t your business.” You say, but can’t help the fear inflicted in your bloodstream and the watering in your eyes. Not that Sukuna cares, in fact you hate it more that he might find pleasure in managing to intimidate you.

You’re also scared he’s going to tell Suguru and get you in trouble.

“I won’t tell your brother if you apologize.”

“Why should I? This is between me and Aimi. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“This is more than that and you know it.”

What.

He continues. “This just isn’t about her borrowing your skirt or something stupid like that. You’re jealous that everyone prefers her.”

Is this dude projecting? There’s no doubt that he’s right because that little self awareness in you is good when you’re jealous of Aimi because everyone just seems to love her more but in this scenario your anger is directed towards Aimi for being spoiled. Not for being favored.

“You’re weird for even saying that. You don’t know me.”

“Because there’s nothing to know. You can't blame anybody but yourself for being the boring Geto twin.” Now that one stings.

Even that one makes Aimi look up from her place.

You leave the house before Aimi can convince you to stay.

Recently, and your final straw, Nanami Kento.

You meet him in the freshman year of college, and are forced to work with one another all semester; professor’s orders. He’s just a year older than you, and you find yourself getting along with him quite well.

He seemed pretty intimidating at first, boring almost. Not Sukuna intimidating, nor Satoru intimidating (if any). But rather he exuded something silent and calm, like he could weather any storm brought to him. Very refined and well balanced. You’ve never seen him “crash out” or awkwardly dramatically display some sort of emotion that was an extreme response.

Of course this didn’t make him any easier to get along with (it felt like he wasn’t even human). It didn’t help his image of being intimidating however by constantly dressing up compared to the rest of the people in your class who opted for sweats, jeans, or loungewear.

No, Nanami came into class everyday in slacks with only three varying colors: grey, beige, or navy. Never black because apparently that was too grim. He also never wore anything other than a button up long sleeve shirt, ending at the three quarter point on his elbow, also in the colors of: navy, white, or grey.

The only ridiculous pop of color he’d ever worn was through his tie. Singular. Emphasis on singular. It was a colorful, not exactly unappealing sort of apparel. The leopard print somehow fit in with his everyday wear no matter how he switched between the colors (there were only so many to cycle between).

Even if you had difficulty getting him to open up at first and to consistently communicate with you. It’s easy to plan prompt meetings with him, he has nothing going on in his life that makes his education secondary, and the both of you even have a shared calendar on when to meet and notifications if any of these events or meetings change.

But anything past that it’s merely business.

Over these repetitive meetings you think you have grown rather fond of him. He isn’t as stone cold as he appeared or acted and you’ve successfully been able to pull a few half smiles from him.

Mind you, you’re always sure to act a little extra silly with him.

“And this is how we’ll get it done. Like baking two muffins in one tray.”

Nanami quirks his brow at you, unable to hide the slight twitch in his lips and the expression change told by the subtle movement beneath his tired eyes. “Are muffin trays not equipped to hold 6 to 12 muffins?”

You grin in return. “They are, but we aren’t baking 6 or 12 muffins silly.” You emphasize this by pointing at point a on the web and then dragging your finger on the screen to point b.

“We’re only baking two.” You say this as if it’s common sense. Only a few people can understand your elite ball knowledge.

“… by that logic there would be no other way.” Nanami nods in return with your words. Though you just know by his tone he has no idea what you’re talking about. You can only hope he regards this statement with some sort of sentimentality that you associate with his company.

It’s taken you an entire month to get him to warm up to you and speak to you with the mere essence of warmth and comfort. Even getting a simple hello anywhere you see him without having to initiate it is rare (it’s only happened 3 times). But you revel in the challenge, you assume he’s just an inexperienced, ambitious and determined man who's never had the touch or affection of a woman. You can change that. You can make him soft and relaxed, he’s already gentle and so emotionally intelligent.

Satoru and Sukuna may have been flops (they were never yours to flop in the first place), Nanami seems promising! In fact, maybe you’ll be calling him Kento soon. It’s almost a month and you see each other twice a week!

You try it for yourself. When the both of you are working seriously and diligently—or Kento is more so. You’re just working from time to time then sneaking a cheeky glance at him.

“Is there something on my face?”

DARN IT. You look away, eyes flitting everywhere but his face, his blue dress shirt, his tie, his pants, his hands—oh goodness, his hands. Thick fingers nesting a pen between the hold of his thumb and the side of his pointer, looking ever so delicate in contrast to his forearms. God forbid your heart speak for your brain, because the protruding of his veins in the tendons of his forearm muscles will never not make you want to vibrate out of your seat.

Japan would go through a world war for those forearms. You wonder what the rest of him looks like. His dress shirt practically bugles around his form from how fitted it is around his shoulders.

Nanami’s placing his pen down on his notebook is what gets you back into reality.

“I got distracted, my bad.”

“Is something wrong?” Nanami tilts his head.

You find yourself muttering, “Do you work out?”

He blinks once or twice. “Excuse me, could you repeat that again?”

“No sorry, it was nothing.”

“Did you ask if I frequently visit the gym?”

“Well when you phrase it like that… yes.”

“I make sure to put aside an hour dedicated towards strength training for five days per week to keep my body healthy.”

It sure does more than make him healthy.

“Is there a reason why you ask this?”

“Well I make some pretty good protein brownies. Would you be interested in coming over and trying some?”

“I don’t think my expertise is suitable for that kind of palette.”

You shake your head. “I’m not asking you to critique them, Kento. I’m just asking if you want to come over and have some, we can be working in the meantime.”

“Kento?” He arches his eyebrow at you, lips pressed together quite firmly.

“Uhhh, yeah.” You fumble with your digital Bluetooth pencil, slotting it into the spaced your tablet case. “I thought we were pretty familiar to refer to each other by our first names.”

“Geto, The sentiment is kind and well meaning but I would appreciate it if we remained on professional terms.”

Oh.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine. Thank you for telling me.” You both go back to work, as if nothing happened. Your suggestion got lost in the wind and Nanami was the first to leave the library.

It’s only until a month and a half later, a whole three quarters of the semester left until you both decide to work on your final project together. You think it’s timely because Nanami agreed that this would be a fine point to begin.

And it leads to the project being developed at your place instead of the library. Your ultra logical reasoning being that he could stay over longer and that you could provide food free of charge. Of course he declined but you explained that it would be easier to work longer hours if you were already at home due to the library hours only being open until 7 pm.

Nanami finally agreed under some more logical reasoning and insistence.

It was 5 pm when he came over and he agreed to stay for dinner when you guys finished part 1 of the project. You were jumping for joy, practically eager to show him a small part of your domestic life and showing off that aspect to him. Maybe he’d become more comfortable and open with you if you did.

You spent the entire time in your room, figuring out what to wear for that perfect, cozy yet casual feeling when being home. Something that would make him notice you and feel comfortable speaking more.

You’re too caught up in your space to notice Aimi calling your name until she knocks on your door.

“You have a guest.” She peeks into your room, seeing the stray clothes skewed over your bed and the floor. “He’s a real cutie, where did you find this one?”

“Oh shut up.” You playfully mess with her hair and move past her, down the stairs all until you get to the front door, seeing Nanami slowly take off his coat.

“You can leave it on one of the coat hangers.” You approach him with a smile. Nanami nods in return.

“So, are you going to introduce us? It’s not very nice to invite people into the house without telling us.” Aimi steps out from behind you, a little pout as she dramatically tugs at your elbow and lays her cheek on the cap of your shoulder.

“I apologize. I did not intend to overstep.”

Aimi giggles, brightening up at his tone and smiles ever so warmly. In a natural way that comes as easily as breathing to her as she coordinates herself with such whimsy and breadth that has Nanami unable to take his eyes off her.

“I’m Geto Aimi, this one’s twin sister. And you?” She points a thumb in your direction.

“My name is Nanami Kento. Thank you for allowing me into your home.” He bows towards her.

He should be bowing towards you. You were the one who invited him here, gave him permission to be here.

“Oh no, please, that’s so informal. I appreciate your kindness.” Her grin gets so large, unable to hold back the laughter beneath her breath.

“It’s nothing at all Geto.”

“Pffftt, Geto’s so informal. Please call me Aimi, right? Kento?”

He’s taken a back for a moment, but not holding the same expression he did when you referred to him as Kento. Rather he’s surprised and flattered all at the same time.

“It would not be right of me to—“

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be confusing saying Geto when we’re all Geto in this house? I mean besides you of course. My sister is Geto, I’m Geto, our older brother is Geto. It would be so much easier to call us by our first names.”

“That would be a logical conclusion…”

Your sister raises a brow in his direction, leaning towards him and eagerly waiting for him to say…

“Aimi.”

“There it is! Good job!” She turns back to you, a victorious and confident smile on her face. “I’m going to leave him to you! Have fun with whatever it is you both are doing!”

She turns around and bounds back up the stairs, most likely to her room. Or maybe frolicking in Suguru’s room and waiting for him to come back home and beg him to play video games with her.

You and him both face each other. A part of you expects him to refer to you by your name but instead he gestures towards the dining room table and asks, “shall we get started?”

It’s only a good 45 minutes later that the front door opens again and Suguru has come in from band practice, a plastic bag hooked over two of his fingers. When he coordinates himself to toe off his shoes and face the inner living room area he spots you and Kento at the dining table.

“Hey.” He calls over to you, approaching you and Nanami.

Suguru ruffles your hair, looking over your shoulder to see what you’re working on. Nanami at this point has stopped to observe your ease in interaction with your brother.

“Hey,” Suguru extends a hand over to Nanami, for a casual handshake greeting. Nanami nods in return, extending his own hand when they exchange a leveled handshake.

“Suguru.”

“Nanami Kento.”

You pitch in. “He’s a friend from class. We’re working on our end of the semester project.”

Suguru hums. “I’m going to see Aimi, let me know if you need anything.”

You notice the weight of the bag, there’s a possibility that there’s more snacks than Aimi needs. Maybe some of them are for you—a gesture that he could have thought of you for once.

Your tone turns teasing, pitched in a certain way. “There’s no way all those snacks can be for Aimi… right?”

Before Suguru’s socks can even ascend the first step he turns to you and gives a boyishly little grin, paired with the scratching of the back of his head. “Sorry, she begged me to get her these.” He lifts the bag in a gesture. “Next time I’ll get you some.”

Translation: Next time I’ll think about you.

You hide the displeasure from your expression and work away. However, after a few silent moments.

“You and your siblings seem close.” That’s the first time Nanami ever spoke to you to ask about you, and not because you were obsessing over him like some weirdo.

“We are.” You respond. Though saying the words and agreeing with them are different things. Suguru and Aimi are close. You and him are just… siblings. You just happened to be born in the same family, maybe sometimes you perceive that you were lucky to be born as his sister at all.

A darker part of you thinks (believes) that you would have taken Aimi’s place if she wasn’t born in the first place.

“They’re funny, and get along well.” Are the only things you can say. You know Suguru and Aimi like the back of your hand, only because you’ve felt like you’ve had to beg to spend time with them without making you feel left out. Or that you'll be left out when it’s the two of them because they’ve already got along so well, spent so much time together and know each other more than they’d know you.

“Between you and your twin, who is the youngest?”

“Aimi is the youngest, I’m the oldest by 10 minutes.”

“I see.” Nanami nods, as if that’s the only correct way to respond.

“Are you hungry? I made a shrimp Thai curry today, there’s enough for the both of us.”

“There’s no need. I’ll be leaving in the next 15 minutes.”

“Oh right, you’re probably worried about your nutrients.” You nod in understanding. “I won’t pressure you but I also go to the gym and I like to count my calories and macros. This dish was made in mind to be low calorie, and high protein. But If you’re not comfortable staying to eat, then I can pack some for you to go.”

Nanami stops and blinks for a moment. “If you absolutely must, then please.”

You smile. Bingo.

Nanami leaves with a nicely packed portion of the shrimp Thai curry you made and he leaves with the most polite bow.

After the front door has closed, there’s the repetitive taps of someone descending the stairs. It’s only when they come to your side do you notice it’s Suguru, with his hair half up, half down, one side done into a braid, the other is brushed out and free.

“Why do you look like you came out of a beginner salon?” You tease him, picking up the braid hastily tied and loose and dropping it down on his shoulder as emphasis.

He scowls at you, playfully swatting your hand away. “Aimi is anything but a beginner in the salon. She’ll probably be ruling it in the next five years.”

You roll your eyes, not being able to help the smile that crosses your face.

“Why did you invite a boy to our house?”

A boy…? Nanami?

“Nanami is anything but a boy. Plus he’s my classmate, we kinda need somewhere to study y’know?”

“Yeah but he’s also a guy.” Suguru huffs, rolling his eyes at you while he hooks an arm over your shoulder.

Is this it? The older brother finally being protective of you?

“Has he met Aimi?” Ah, there it is.

“Anytime a friend meets her they're always obsessing and catching onto Aimi like flies. Damn Satoru and Sukuna can’t get their heads in the game to lock in without fighting over her.”

He says this all, but it’s more like he’s just speaking to himself.

“Well?” Suguru prompts, shaking you slightly.

“Yes. She opened the door for him.”

“Darn it.” He straightens himself and presses both hands to his face.

“Why can’t these freaks leave my sister alone.” He utters to himself.

“I’m glad you don’t have this issue. One less person for me to worry about.” Suguru heads towards the kitchen, hands stuffed inside his black sweats.

Ouch.

Nanami comes to your house at least two—possibly three times a week to refine the project. Every time he’s been here he’s talked to Aimi at least once. By her own account or him taking the initiative to ask about her.

Over your time together before this, Nanami has never once asked about you, or how you’ve been or what your favorite things are. It almost makes you jealous of how charmed he is by her, you’ve known him for longer but she’s managed to be able to call him Kento and get him to call her by her name.

Does Nanami even know your name? (He should, he’s referred to you by it only when government-naming you in full formal and polite fashion).

You happened to come home late, and find Nanami over, trying a brownie that your sister made. You’re standing like a little menace in the corner, hiding from them.

But alas, two weeks before your final presentation, after all that refining. You ask Nanami to come over and for the next twenty minutes witness a conversation that you haven’t had the privy to before, but only because it’s a side of Nanami that you’re only witnessing now. You assumed it was because you were classmates that he was more professional and formal around you, for the grade, or because it was better to keep silent and not mix pleasure with business.

Now you’re assuming it’s just because of you.

Because Nanami talks with her in such a familiar and friendly manner--friendly for Nanami--that you have never heard from on his end. The most he'll do for you is make light conversation. With Aimi he's out here asking for her interests, her hobbies, her goals for the future, what major she is, and how she perceives certain things.

Like you mentioned before, you're beginning to think that it's you who's the one that's cursed. Satoru, Sukuna, now Nanami?!

Not to mention, she refers to him as Kento and he doesn't say anything! Not like the Geto thing is entirely that huge, or big, and it's easier to differentiate the three of you by, but Kento should be using his logical brain to tell her that it's improper to call him by his first name when the only reason he calls any of you by your first names is because he needs to differentiate you all from one another and avoid confusion!

It's ridiculous and sad.

For you.

For Aimi it's grand and lucky. He's resting his backside against the counter, Aimi is right beside him and yapping away while he’s nodding with her every word and catching onto her every euphemism and whim. Every bright, bold and cheery way you've tried to come off onto Nanami has just flown out the window in exchange for your sister. She doesn't even need to try to get his attention or friendly words or gestures.

But for you it's difficult, sad, utterly embarrassing getting outshone like this. For Nanami to be asking about her, interested in her personality and character. It's not like you're invisible or shit.

It's frustrating having to be the only Geto in the house that's not popular. Even with both of your siblings being introverts, they shine entirely because of that. They aren’t awkward introverts, they are cool introverts. Big difference.

You only begin to show yourself when you hear the pitter patter of footsteps behind you, signalling Suguru has come down to hang with the family. In this case, you intrude on Nanami and Aimi having a thrilling conversation shift now to her long-term obsession, leopard seals. To which she emphasizes with great certainty--that they are the demons of the ocean.

Aimi gives you a wave in gesture, smiling wide as if sunshine incarnate, while Nanami only gives acknowledgement to your presence with a stand-still nod. It grinds your gears honestly.

You try not to show it however. "Hey, isn't this too late for you?"

"What do you mean?" Nanami emphasizes this question with a subtle tilt of his head and another bite of the brownie he holds between his thumb and pointer.

"I'm just saying that I hope it isn't too late for you to stay." You look at your phone, held tight over your palm. "It's already 7."

“Right, it’s almost Aimi’s bed time.” Suguru comes in from the second door of the kitchen, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Sugu!” Aimi can’t restrain the shared grin she

“You shouldn’t have any sweets. It’s going to soil your appetite for dinner.” He comes by her side, opposite to Nanami, and begins ruffling her hair.

“Suguru, you're making dinner?” You light up.

Suguru rarely makes dinner–the three of you are all busy college kids–so the three of you resort to eating takeout every lunch and night.

“Wait, are you going to make my favorite?!” Aimi erupts into a fit of laughter and giggles when Suguru tickles her neck.

“I suppose I’ll get going.” Nanami nods to the two of them, then turns to you. You assume he’s going to make his own dinner back at his apartment.

“It’s late already, why don’t you just eat dinner with us? There’s enough to go around.” Suguru offers, taking Aimi into his side when she hooks her arms around his waist.

“It would be improper of me to intrude on your family dinner.”

You open your mouth, “Nanami, I’m sure–”

“Please Kento! It won’t be a big deal.” Aimi cuts in to plead in front of him, both hands pressed together as she pouts and bats her lashes at him. Her lashes are thicker with the falsies she had done a few days ago, framing her face and emphasizing her cute mannerisms.

Hell you could be that cute if you put in the same effort.

“Suguru has enough for all of us, right?” Aimi turns to him, to which Suguru nods in agreement.

Nanami attempts to deny it with, “It’s your favorite dish, any portion given to me means one less for you.”

“Nonsense, your presence here means more to me than eating more of my favorite food.” Aimi shakes her head, eyes pleading with him again.

Maybe you are the problem. Aimi is just too charming to refuse.

Nanami cannot refute that argument any longer, and he gives a long sigh before reluctantly agreeing. “Just this once, I’ll stay for dinner.”

Aimi jumps around gleefully, with the brightest smile. Suguru tampers her down by shooing her out of the kitchen and telling her to go watch a movie while he cooks, the longest it would take would be thirty minutes.

Nanami offers, ever so politely. “Since you’ve generously offered to let me stay, let me help with the cooking.”

Suguru shakes him off. “No, you’re a guest. If you want to do something, go entertain Aimi, she’s like a puppy that distracts easily.”

And of course Nanami relents when it comes to her. But never to you, mind you.

“Where do you think you’re doing?”

“What? Can’t I go play with them too?”

“No? Come help me cook. Between you and Aimi, you’re less likely to burn things down.”

This is another thing you HATE. You know Aimi’s only pretending to be incompetent at cooking just so she doesn’t have to be in the kitchen. You always insisted to Suguru that she needed to be whipped into shape and disciplined. She can bake but she absolutely refuses to cook.

But you utter out a “fine” and help him anyway. This is the only time you can get with your older brother without Aimi getting in the way.

During dinner you learn more about Nanami Kento than you knew about him before and he was your classmate, for heaven's sake you brought him over here first!

His parents are abroad like yours are and he rents his apartment on his own. He lives a 20 minute walk from campus and drives around depending on where he needs to be. He's an only child and is considering getting a cat. He likes watching documentaries and watching tearjerker dramas on his night routine.

All of this is only learned by Aimi’s incessant badgering. But for her, Nanami’s freely speaking this information.

Nanami departs with a polite smile and makes his way back home at 8:25.

By the time finals are here the presentation is way passed refinement and you both know you’ll attain an easy A.

You’ve been planning this for a few weeks since you knew you were paired with Nanami but you know this is something you'll need to get out before it overruns you.

You like Nanami, have a crush on him genuinely. He’s kind, polite, intelligent, extremely attractive and has his goals set out for him. Not to mention, extremely emotionally intelligent. He’s thoughtful and knows how to communicate his own boundaries without stepping over yours. It’s sort of why Satoru and Sukuna were much easier to let go of.

And the fact that you knew Nanami first. You thought you had a chance.

Maybe a new lesson you need to learn is to not let your crushes know about your sister.

After class you pull him aside at an empty park bench across campus. The walk there is awkward and long, with neither of you saying anything.

“Geto? Is something wrong?” It’s the first thing he says when you both finally get to the bench and sit down.

“No, no. Not really.” You respond with a shake of your head. “I just need to get this off my chest.”

Nanami doesn’t say another word, silently letting you continue.

“I like you Nanami. Romantically.”

“… I see.”

Really? Is that all he has to say?

“I don’t reciprocate your affection, though your feelings are appreciated and this gesture is very brave of you to go through with.”

You prepare yourself for the worst.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you over the semester. Let’s keep our relationship strictly professional.” Nanami lifts himself from the bench, gathering his backpack and walking off.

Really?

That’s it?

“Is it Aimi?”

That’s what gets Nanami to turn around. To finally look at you.

“If what you’re indicating is that my affections are negated towards you due to my own relations with Aimi then that is false. I simply believe the two of us are not compatible.”

“But you and Aimi aren’t?”

“… that is personal.” Nanami recorrects the position of his glasses on his nose bridge, anything other than making direct eye contact with you.

“Do you like Aimi?”

“Good day, Geto.” He leaves just like that.

You only find out your answer when you spot Aimi across campus with Nanami at her side in one of the tables that are near the fast-food counters. And Aimi is almost never on campus. She loves her room, she’s such a homebody, and almost exclusively takes online or hi-flex classes. It takes both you and Suguru pushing her out the door and pulling her away from her PC to get her to have some fresh air. But here she is, sitting in front of Nanami.

This is the end of your love life for you. With the three of them at least. You never stood a chance.

So why the hell are they all here? The three stooges, your three evil crushes find themself at your doorstep after incessant knocking and ringing. Sukuna with what seems like a bag of takeout hooked between two fingers and then something small nestled in his arm; Satoru holding what seemed to be the world’s largest bouquet while wearing a finely tailored suit and donning that cheeky little grin; Kento—god give you strength—had his collared shirt sleeve folded up to his elbows, revealing the every little flex and tender of his muscles while he cradled a large gift box to his chest.

“Why the hell are you all here?” At the same time no less.

Satoru manages to get his request across first. “Come out to dinner with me.” He checks his watch. “It’s only 3 right now, the reservation is at 8. Just enough time for us to go shopping.”

“Shopping? What for?”

“Your dress, heels, underwear maybe?” The miniscule quirk in his lips hikes up higher on his cheeks as he leans closer in only to be crushed by Sukuna’s large hand coming out to pull him back by the collar.

“You talk too much, it’s my turn.”

Sukuna’s now center in your doorway, the intimidating piercing red eyes that used to stare down at you with that decisive strike are now scattered unsure across your face. So much so it makes you nervous from how nervous he is.

“Don’t go anywhere with these losers.” His mouth twists deep into a scowl. “I already brought food, and I have something for you.” If anything told by the clumsily and loosely wrapped gift in his arm.

“That’s uh, kind of you but I don’t have any funds to pay you back with.”

“He’s making you pay him back? Sukuna, that's dirty.” From behind, Satoru hooks his arm around his neck and pulls him back, causing them both to nearly topple backwards on the two step front.

“Hell the fuck no!”

They’ve practically eliminated each other and given Kento enough room to approach.

“Hello, how have you been?” His voice is a touch gentle, almost breaching on fondness.

You hesitantly respond, “Good.” Your tone takes a sudden turn. “ Are you here to ask me to make time for you too or?”

“No. I couldn’t ask that of you. However,” he presents to you the large gift wrapped box.

“This is a gift I’ve chosen for you.”

“I see…” are the only words you can conjure as you reluctantly take the box into your arms. “I’ll open it later… thank you.”

I guess.

“Anything else?” You ask them. To which Satoru and Sukuna have all stopped arguing and Kento continues to stand there like he’s part of your front garden property.

“Right… bye.” You shut the door on them.

What the fuck.

[n30nwrites]

Fuck these men fr

[unhingedfem]

Women have a great day <3 men beg for forgiveness

[eydi-andrius]

Happy Women's Day!!! 👑

[bitchi4mwillywonka]

dont worry, i'll be hot and funny again as soon as i'm done fighting for my life right now

[xviolentxlittlexdemonx]

[gardenspells]

just a friendly reminder that this blog hates ICE

[lobotomymutt]

*unfriendly reminder.

If you support ICE or anything of the sort I hope you choke on the damn boot you keep licking

[n30nwrites]

I’m sorry every songs about you

Satosuga x Reader

The torture of small talk with someone I used to know

Reader is gender neutral, song is Fourth of July by Fall Out Boy cause I was listening to it on Vinyl. Not the best and definitely has a few mistakes

Band AU

"You and I were, you and I were fire, fire, fireworks."

You were shocked to see Gojo and Geto at this shitty bar. Your two past flings (do they count as flings if you said you loved them and truly did until it all ended in hellfire?) were standing at the edge of the bar, they would've been hidden by the sea of people if it wasn't for their height, standing well above most of the people there and looking straight at you.

"That went off too soon. And I miss you in the June gloom too"

There's always been a duo in a group of trios. You had been convinced of that when you were friends with them. It had been Gojo and Geto against the world, and for you it had been you and Shoko.

But when the group became a trio, you had no one. Losing Shoko meant losing a part of your soul, and while it got you closer to the two, it only reminded you of how alone you were.

Maybe that's why you accepted their affection. One drunken party where you, Geto, and Gojo were dancing together which led to grinding and then eventually kissing. The next day you made a choice, to ignore the fact that it happened.

Of course Suguru and Satoru wouldn't let that happen.

The bar smelled like cheap liquor and regret. Your fingers tightened around the mic, the stage lights wash everything out to a dull gold, the crowd blurring into sound and heat and motion, but you still felt them. Gravity shifting and their silhouettes near the bar, leaning in the same lazy way they always had.

Gojo Satoru, all grin and sharp angles, white hair catching the light like a dare. Geto Suguru, calm and unreadable, dark hair tied back, eyes fixed on you like he was trying to remember where things went wrong.

Your heart stuttered. The lyrics continued pouring from your lips, leaving your mouth steady even as your chest burned. Even as Mahito hit that drum harder and Sukuna leaned against you. You sang like you always did, like confession was easier when it was wrapped in melody. The band behind you followed without question; they knew this version of you. The one who bled quietly into music and called it art.

You wondered if they knew this version.

Gojo noticed first. Of course he did. His smile faltered just a fraction, like someone had taken a match to it. Suguru's gaze didn't waver. He ever looked away from things that mattered.

But it was the wrong time.

"You are my favorite what if. You are my best I'll never know"

You swallowed between lines, remembering the past once again. Shoko's laugh, cigarette smoke curling into summer air. The way she had been your constant, your anchor to the group. Losing her tilted the world so you were always leaning, always reaching for something that wasn't there,

Gojo and Geto had each other. You'd had their attention.

Affection came easy when loneliness sat between you like an open seat.

One party. One night. Music too loud, bodies too close. Hands at your hips, mouths brushing your jaw, the heat of them -them, plural - surrounding you until thinking felt optional. You remember the taste of alcohol and laughter and the way love slipped out of your mouth like a mistake.

A mistake that you pretended never happened.

They hadn't.

You finished the song to applause that felt distant, echoing. Breathing heavily as the words left you lips, "I'm sorry, every single song is about you." Your words brought cheers, and when you stepped offstage, sweat cooling on your skin, Sukuna having to peel himself off of you, they were already there. Blocking your path like fate but with better posture.

"Didn't know you sang like that," Gojo said, too casual. His eyes were bright, searching your face like he was afraid you'd disappear again.

"It wasn't something you needed to know." You replied back.

"You've been avoiding us." Suguru added softly. Small talk was torture. It always had been.

"Didn't know you still went to bars like this," you replied, busying yourself with unplugging cables that didn't need it. Your band mates watched from afar, knowing there was history but not the specifics.

Gojo laughed, "so you admit to avoiding us still." and Suguru shot him a look and called his name.

"What?" he said. "i'm just saying what we're all thinking."

You exhaled, long and tired. "You don't get to ambush me like this."

“Then you shouldn't have admitted it was about us” Gojo said, quieter now.

That landed. For a moment, none of you spoke. The noise of the bar pressed in around the silence, bass thumping like a second heartbeat. “You left,” you said finally. “Both of you. Or maybe I did. I don’t know anymore.” You might've left physically, but they were gone emotionally. Or maybe you were as well.

Suguru stepped closer, close enough that you could smell his cologne, familiar, grounding. “We were young,” he said. “And angry. And we loved you.”

Gojo nodded. “Still do.”

Your throat tightened. Love had always been the problem. Not its absence, but its excess. Too much, aimed wrong, shared unevenly. A trio that never quite balanced.

“Come outside,” Suguru said. Not a command. An invitation. You sent a nod to Sukuna who grabbed the stuff, he would be calling you later, but he gave you peace right now.

The night air was cool, damp with city haze. June gloom, just like the song. Gojo leaned against the brick wall, hands in his pockets, watching you like you were the last spark in a dying fire. Suguru stood closer, careful, like he was afraid of spooking you.

“I can’t do this again,” you said. “I won’t be the space between you.”

Gojo’s smile softened. “Who said you were between?”

Suguru met your eyes. “Maybe you were always part of it. We were just too stupid to say it out loud.”

Your heart ached in a way that felt familiar and dangerous. You could see your band smoking outside, your life, waiting. In front of you, the past, unfinished and still warm. Fireworks were beautiful because they didn’t last.

You stepped back, just enough to breathe.

“Maybe,” you said quietly. “But some songs are better when they end unresolved.”

Gojo didn’t reach for you. Suguru didn’t stop you.

As you turned away, the night swallowed your footsteps, and somewhere behind you, two old flames burned on, uncertain whether they were meant to fade… or wait for the next spark.

[54prowl]

ok mutuals and followers, line up

new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss new year kiss

[n30nwrites]

Good Doggy

I'm thinking of rewriting Good Doggy. I realized now I had no general plot in mind and I now got some inspiration but I was looking to see if anyone had any opinions because I know that's what got people to follow me the first time. There's just many inconsistencies and I want to finish it in January.

this will be deleted once opinions are received. I realize I took a long ass break but I wanna get this done for the new year so I can focus on other stuff.

I also have a good doggy taglist but I wasn't sure if anyone still wanted to be a part of it

[n30nwrites]

Hihi can I request omega simon cuddling/scenting with alpha male reader?

When the World Goes Quiet (Simon Riley/Ghost x Reader)

Reader; Male, Alpha, as stated above

Story; All fluff, all comfort, Omegaverse

Note; I hope this was okay. Happy New Years, I hope everyone had a great day because I know this year was hard for a lot of people.

Ko-fi

The safehouse was quiet, in that rare, fragile way that only came after a mission went right.

Rain trickled gently against the windows, the steady sound mingles with the low hum of the heater. The rest of the team had already filtered away, Price to debrief paperwork, Soap to pester Gaz about something that was probably stupid, which left the shared living space dim and still. You'd taken the couch by habit, broad shoulders sinking into cushions that had long since lost their shape and were stained with something you couldn't care to find out about.

Simon lingered near the doorway.

He hadn't said anything yet, which wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the way his posture kept shifting, his weight moving from foot to foot, fingers flexing inside his gloves like he didn't know what to do with them. He looked at you, unsure, with his mask in his hand.

You caught his scent before he spoke.

Cool and smoky, something like rain-soaked fabric and cedar. It was frayed at the edges, pulled thin by adrenaline and the aftermath of combat. Not distressed. Just an omega seeking.

After almost losing Soap, you couldn't blame him. You lifted your head slightly. "C'mere, Simon"

He stiffened for half a second, then relaxed. The tension easing out of his spine like he'd been waiting for permission. The mask was set on the table as he crossed the room, folded carefully and set aside. Pale hair was damp at the edges, eyes tired but soft as they met yours.

"Didn't want to bother you," he muttered.

You huffed quietly. "You're not." You could never.

He hesitated again, instincts warring with price, before gently sitting beside you, close enough that your knees brushed. The contact sent a subtle shiver through him, barely noticeable unless you were paying attention. You always were.

You shifted, opening your stance without thinking, arm resting along the back of the couch in a silent invitation. Simon's gaze flicked to it, then away.

"Simon," you said gently, voice dropping into the register that always seemed to calm him, "It's alright."

That did it.

He leaned in slowly, like a wary cat, until his shoulder pressed against your chest. The moment you wrapped an arm around him, firm and warm, he exhaled, a long, quiet breath that sounded like relief more than exhaustion. His head tucked beneath your chin, nose brushing your collarbone.

The scenting started without warning.

Simon inhaled deeply, grounding himself in you and your scent. Steady, familiar, and reassurance wrapped around him like a blanked. He relaxed incrementally, muscles unclenching, weight settling fully against you. One of his hands curled into your shirt, his fingers gripping the fabric like an anchor.

You adjusted instinctively, angling your body so he fit better, arm tightening just enough to be unmistakably protective. Your thumb traced slow, absent circles against his shoulder through the worn fabric of his hoodie.

"There you go," you murmured

Simon let out a soft sound, almost a hum, and pressed closer. His scent began to deepen, warming as his omega instincts eased out of defensive mode. He nudged into the side of your neck briefly, careful, and respectful. Just enough to leave a faint trace of himself there.

Claiming, but gentle. Trusting.

Your chest rumbled with a low, content sound before you could stop it.

"Easy," he muttered, though there was a hint of fondness there.

You smirked, brushing your nose lightly against his hair, your hand trailing up to gently trace his fingers. "You started it."

He snorted quietly, then went still again, listening to your heartbeat beneath his ear. After a moment, his hand slid from your shirt to your forearm, his thumb brushing over your old scars like he was cataloging proof that you were here. That you were safe.

That he was safe.

The rain outside picked up, and you felt him melt further into you, body heat syncing with yours. You shifted just enough to pull a blanket over both of you, tucking it around his shoulders. Simon made a pleased sound despite himself.

"You didn't have to do that," he said, voice muffled.

"I wanted to."

That earned you silence - comfortable, heavy silence, the kind that felt earned. Simon's breathing evened out, slow and deep, his scent settling into something calm and familiar. He nudged at your neck again, more confidently this time, leaving another soft mark of scent before settling back down.

You dipped your head, pressing a light kiss to his temple, nothing possessive, just affectionate. He didn't pull away, if anything, he leaned into it.

"Stay like this a bit," he said quietly.

You tightened your hold just a fraction. "As long as you want."

Minutes passed. Maybe more. The world shrank to the weight of him against you, the sound of rain, and the warmth shared between alpha and omega without expectation or demand.

Eventually, Simon's fingers loosened their grip on your hand and sleeve, his body heavy with rest. You smiled faintly, adjusting the blanket one last time.

Guarding him case as naturally a breathing.

And for once, Simon Riley let himself be held. Safe, scented, and utterly at peace.

[n30nwrites]

hello!! i hope youre doing well!! happy holiday season!

first of all, love the writing!! i think youre more skilled than you perceive yourself as! and trust me, you'll only go up from here, in terms of skill and such. im rambling, sorry, its 3:30 am... anyways..

second, i couldnt see if you are or are not okay writing nsfw or not, so i just wanted to ask if thats okay? i can assure you nobody would be upset either way, myself especially, i just ask so as to know what you're okay with

sorry if you've been asked before or you stated somewhere either way, again, 3:30 am lol

anywho, hope your day is good :3

(also if you do anons, may i be known as 🥨🐕? sorry if not, feel free to ignore lol)

I guess so anons lol, I love interacting through this so you definitely can be. I can attempt to do nsfw, I have before with some in the past I’m just lowkey harsh on myself about it but I do want to branch out into it more and of course requests are still open because I love ideas especially while I’m trying to finish Good Doggy lol.

Short answer: yes okay with nsfw and still wanting requests lol

[formerlyluckymanticore]

Reblog if you will never. Ever. Use AI in your writing.

[n30nwrites]

Hangman, Answer me now

(Loustat x Male! Reader x Armand)

So I have not been doing well, which explains why I haven't been writing. Honestly it's getting to the point where I take down all my stories, but this is a vent post I guess which is lowkey based off their reunion.

I've been writing a story that's Louis x Lestat x Armand x Reader soulmate AU but I don't know if I'll ever post it, but I guess this would lowkey be some story that went with it.

The voice in your head is real, and his name is Amel. You can finally remember him, you remember him turning you thousands upon thousands of years ago, you remember him teaching you your abilities, you remember how possessive he was when you met your soulmates.

Amel was a jealous beast, but he was the one who cursed you with eternity. You found solace that he was the only one to understand, but then you met Louis and Lestat.

And through them, you met Claudia.

Claudia was your fire, she was the light to your darkness, she was your daughter.

Lestat was always mad that you would choose her first, Louis was always forced to be in the middle.

But Claudia was yours. She was your coven, and you would choose her over and over again. No matter the fighting, Lestat's affair, the fighting, the blood, you choose Claudia.

But why can't you remember what she looks like?

Getting your memories back put your system into a shock, Amel had tried to prevent you from figuring it out, that he had brought you back.

But he couldn't stop you from remembering Claudia.

And the burning.

They didn't burn you together, you hadn't eaten in years at that point, a slow form of suicide, and when they had dragged you to the stage, you had accepted your death at the hand, as long as they hadn't touched them.

They forced you to watch Claudia burn. You were yelling, pleading for them to choose you, they kept your head on her as the sun shined on her and her coven, her partner, her soulmate.

Your daughter fell to ashes, leaving just her dress, and you screamed.

Your death was always coming, no one expected it then. Being older meant being stronger, and despite the starvation, you had the strength to do something.

To join her.

Feeling the sun, your body had quickly adjusted. Amel had gifted you the ability of adaptation, but you also knew you could fight against it, his curse.

It was just 5 seconds before you could feel the burning.

But you're alive now, and Claudia is a memory, she's the journals she left behind, the dress that still has her ashes clingy to it.

She's gone, and yet she's still next to you.

Why are you alive?

You had left quickly, you didn't enjoy the fighting. Leaving your uncle with Armand and Louis had felt like the only option.

Now you just stood in New Orleans.

The Rooftop you first met Lestat, the same roof top you wanted to die on, the same roof top you glanced at Louis on, the same rooftop that you brought Claudia too, where she first called you 'Dad'.

It was the beginning of you, and now it should be your end.

You swear you can see Claudia in the distance, her smile, though it switches every second, she seems to be beckoning for you to join her.

You wait for the sun.

----

Louis had gotten the call minutes after his reunion with Lestat, the two men were already emotionally fragile, the tears had barely dried on Lestat's face before they got the news that you were gone.

Lestat could barely accept that you were alive, but he couldn't accept that you would leave him again.

Fortunately (And unfortunately) for them, it's Armand who finds them, and you.

Armand could feel you, even in your darkest moments.

They exchanged looks, none of the men could trust each other, but at that current moment it didn't matter.

Lestat remembers the roof very well, and he pales. It's only an hour before the sun comes up, he can feel exhaustion creeping up but it's slowly disappearing due to the adrenaline which is just the thought of you.

You're sitting, your head low, but you're still staring ahead.

"He see's her." Louis mumbles, and Lestat whimpers. They all saw her.

"I want her back." You croak out, causing the three men to stare at you, their steps silent as they get closer to you, slow steps as they join you. "Why can't she come back?"

"Mon amour..." Lestat says quietly, bringing his hand up to you, "Lets go inside."

"I need to burn to be with her." You say absent-mindedly, "I should've burned for her."

Armand says your name, and you flinch.

"I could've been better." You confess, and you finally stop looking at her, instead looking at your lap, Louis' hand laying their and you reach and grab it. "I should've been there more."

"You choose her every time." Louis says.

"Yet she's still dead." The words escape your mouth before you can think. Claudia is still gone and you can’t do anything. "She's my daughter, and she's dead because of you," You took an unneeded breath, "Because of all of you."

Lestat lets out a shutter of a breath, before looking up, like he can see her too. "I'm sorry I-"

"Your apology will not bring her back." You interrupt him, standing and turning to fully look at the three vampires. Armand, Louis, and Lestat.

You think, before you got your memories back, before you turned back into the dead, you would've been happy with them.

But now all you see is her killers. Louis who choose Armand and Lestat, Lestat, who hated her like his own reflection, and Armand...

Armand who you were just starting to feel something again.

"You all had the time, to grieve and to regret. But I died." They flinched, as if remembering the emptiness that followed after losing you was worse than you burning to death. "I choose to die because my daughter was gone, I starved and I was weak, but I'm not anymore. But her death is fresh on my mind, because it's the last thing I know from that life."

Armand calls your name, but you refuse his touch.

"I need time, space, I need to be away from you. I don't think I can forgive you." The sun is starting to peak over now, light slowly starts to fill the word, and the three other vampires step away from the light. "But I can learn to exist, to live again." Living forever was a curse, but it could be a gift with the right people, with the right life.

'Akasha is coming' Amel whispers, and you just close your eyes, your hand darts into the sun, and while the three take a step to go forward, nothing happens. You don't burn, you don't wince in pain, you exist with the sun, your eyes flashing and your fangs poking out.

"I choose to die back then, I'm choosing to live now"

----

Note; this probably doesn't go with the timeline, idc. I love Akasha, though i hate her in the books. This was a mix but its the tv show focus. It's short because I've been working on a longer fanfiction and this is kind of like a scene from it that I wanted to write

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[n30nwrites]

Request: user02619

Heyy hope ur doing great, i would like maybe if u also want to something ab isaac night. I was thinking maybe like isaac coming back (after being slurp) and reader being a siren who could be dating xavier or ajax and isaac kinda obsessed w reader or jealous. Hope ur doing great w the stuff u said u were going through ❤️❤️

Reader: Gender Neutral as always, Isaac unfortunately has my heart.

Note; Thanks for reaching out and for the kindness. I'm doing okay now and this was fun to do. Here's a lowkey slow-burn, obsessive Isaac Night x Reader with jealousy. The idea is that he didn't die at the end of the season

Bad Karma

Based off the song Bad Karma from Miley Cyrus and Joan Jett

Strange, that's what you were considered. Out of all the sirens, you liked Bianca, though you aren't sure if that is reciprocated. You didn't fit in with most, possibly the unnerving way you seemed to never blink, or the fact that your morality was different from others, you aren't sure.

You didn't care.

Bianca said you played Devil's advocate. That you were the one person who could justify murder, theft, and lying. Everyone seemed to look at you warily because of that.

Except for him.

They say Isaac Night is gone.

Slurped, dragged screaming into something that didn't spit people back out whole. The town moved on the way it always did, rumors fading, fear turning into myth like he once was. Even Ajax stopped glancing over his shoulder after a while.

You didn't.

Sirens felt things differently. Echoes lingered. Hunger, devotion, resentment, those emotions clung to the bones of a place. And sometimes, late at night, you swore the dark hummed back at you.

Like it recognized you.

Ajax's arm was warm around your waist, his voice easy as he laughed at something you half-heard. You smiled when you were supposed to. Let him kiss your temple. Let yourself be normal.

But the water in your veins stayed restless.

"You're drifting again," Ajax murmured, amused. "careful. Someone might steal you away."

You forced a laugh. "Yeah. Tragic."

You didn't notice the shadow watching from across the street.

Not until it smiled.

---

Isaac Night came back again.

He came back wrong.

Not broken, but sharpened.

The thing that crawled out of the dark wore his face, his voice, his memories... but obsession had hollowed him out and filled him back up with you. He remembered your song before he remembered his own name. Remembered the way your voice bent people, the way it didn't work on him.

He remembered your first meeting. How Tyler had grabbed you, your sharp retorts and jokes. He enjoyed you, pleasing to talk to and to look at.

You'd looked at him like he was dangerous even then.

Now?

Now you were taken.

He watched Ajax touch you like he belonged there, like you were something earned instead of something that called. Isaac's jaw tightened every time you smiled at the other man, every time your fingers laced together.

Bad karma followed you like perfume.

Isaac could taste it.

Ajax kissed you, and Isaac saw red.

"You really picked him," he muttered one night from the alley, eyes glowing faintly as you passed. "Didn't you."

Your song stirred, uneasy. Sirens always knew when they were being hunted.

The confrontation wasn't dramatic.

It was quiet, and that was worse.

You felt him before you saw him, air pressure shifting, the night leaning inward. When you turned, Isaac was standing under a flickering streetlight, hands loose at his sides, expression soft in a way that made you instincts scream. He reminded you of an eldritch horror.

"...Isaac?" Your voice wavered. "You're-"

"Alive?" He offered gently. "Yeah. Surprise." it's hard for you to see him as a monster though, with his handsome face and curly hair. But you took a step back. He noticed. That hurt more than his first and second death.

"You disappeared," you said. "Everyone thought you were dead."

"For a moment." he replied, eyes never leaving your face. "But I never stopped thinking about you." That should've scared you, and it did, but not enough.

"I'm with Ajax," you said carefully. "You shouldn't be following me."

Isaac smiled, slow and dangerous. "I'm not following you." He stepped closer. The streetlight flickered violently. "I'm orbiting."

Your throat vibrated, a warning hum beneath your words. "Isaac. Stop." but he didn't flinch, not from you.

Never from you.

"That thing you do?" He murmured. "Doesn't work on me anymore." He dismisses you, and you swallowed.

"What do you want?" and his gaze softened, devotional, unhinged, but honest.

"I want you to choose," he said. "Not because you're being good. Not because you're afraid of what people say." He leaned in just enough for you to feel his breath, to notice the bugs around him. "But because you feel it too."

Your heart hammered. "This isn't healthy."

He laughed quietly. "Neither is loving a siren."

Ajax noticed the change immediately.

The way you flinched at shadows. The way your song slipped when you thought you were alone. The name you almost said in your sleep - almost.

"You don't have to stay," Ajax said one night, voice tight but sincere. "If something's pulling you... I won't cage you."

That was the problem. Ajax was perfect, he was sweet and handsome. He was light in your darkness.

Which meant you were dimming.

Isaac didn't want to cage you. He wanted to consume you, and be consumed in return.

You left that night with a heavy goodbye. You found Isaac in the woods. He didn't look surprised to see you.

"You came," he said softly. Isaac looked soft, but you knew of his danger. But it wasn't aimed towards you.

"I don't belong to you," You told him.

"I know," he replied. "That's why it matters."

You stepped closer. Your siren's song curled around him, uncertain now but not a weapon or a lure. Just truth.

"I don't know what you are anymore."

Isaac reached out, stopping just short of touching you. "I'm the bad idea," he said softly, "The consequence. The karma you keep pretending won't catch up with you." His eyes burned into yours. "And I'll wait. As long as it takes." A slow burn, with no rush or force.

Just obsession, patient and unwavering.

And somewhere deep inside, you knew you were just like him. You were dangerous, and you had decided.

One step forward and you were touching, your lips meeting gently and he welcomed it

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

I probably could've added more but I wasn't sure. Just a note, I'm putting a Ko-fi down below, I'm not expecting nor asking for donations, but I currently don't have a place to live so I'm doing what I can. I'm working and I'm trying to write again to get some hope up. Hopefully I'm welcomed back lmao

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[n30nwrites]

Hi Neon, could you do a Ren Amamiya x reader who tries really hard not to follow behind the thieves in terms of powerscale. Not only because they are a late addition to the team but also because they want to be useful. Ren one day catches them late at night in Mementos. Where the reader does eventually admit their insecurities, and Ren wants to battle them to prove a point that they can stand beside the thieves.

You were kind, I was Cruel (Ren Amamiya x Reader)

Synopsis; You were behind, and no matter how hard you tried you would always feel this way.

Title from Silver Spoon by Erin LeCount

Reader; Gender neutral, can be perceived anyway

You had never been behind before. Even when you walked you lead, you were the first to volunteer for something you wanted to do, you took charge in projects, so you had never expected to be behind.

Ren being in charge was different. He was attentive, he cared, but it wasn't the norm. You weren't used to others doing the work, of them caring about you as well.

So this time, you stayed behind on purpose.

That much was intentional.

The Phantom Thieves moved like a well-practiced rhythm now, calls sharp, formations tight, Personas flashing through shadows like second nature. You knew your place in the lineup. You knew where you lagged behind, where your timing was a half-second slower, where your abilities didn't flare quite as brightly.

And so you trained.

Alone.

Mementos felt different when no one else was there. The air was heavier, the shadows were more watchful, like the place itself was aware you weren't meant to be wandering it solo. Your breath fogged faintly as you tightened your grip and summoned your Persona again.

It answered.

Barely.

You exhaled, frustrated. "Again."

You pushed. Forced the call. The strain burned behind your eyes, static crawling up your spine. The others didn't know of your struggle, how the ability burns in your veins, how your Persona barely listens.

Like it's calling you an imposter.

It's all a reminder of how you got it in the first place. The palace, the shadows, the burning from the mask ripping off your face.

You stumbled back a step.

"Still not enough," You muttered.

"You know it doesn't work like that." You freeze at the voice, your hands stopping and you clench.

Ren stepped out of the darkness like he belonged there, hands in his pockets, expression calm but eyes sharp with concern. His coat swayed slightly as he stopped a few paces away. Mementos welcomes him, and its a reminder that he was the first of you.

That he was meant for this, chosen. That he didn't have a palace that he went through, that he wasn't tortured.

"How long have you been watching?" You ask quietly.

"Long enough," He replied. "To know you're overdoing it."

You turned to face him, straightening, "I was just-"

"Training," He finished. "Alone. Again"

You looked away. The silence that followed wasn't accusatory. It was patient. That somehow made it worse. He knew you were here, he's known for some time. You wonder if the group has been talking about you, if they know you don't belong.

"You don't need to stay behind," Ren said gently, taking another step forward.

"I do," you snapped, sharper than intended. He's been nothing but kind to you, he saved you from the darkness, he gave you a purpose, he was handsome, and kind. You swallowed, "I mean...I want to."

He tilted his head. "Why?"

Because you were late. Because everyone else awakened in fire and conviction while you arrived with hesitation and doubt. Because every victory felt like something you borrowed instead of earned. Because you were terrified of being the weak link.

You were terrified that Ren would know you were the weak link.

You laughed softly, humorless. "I don't want to trail behind everyone else forever." Ren didn't interrupt. "I know I joined later," you continued. "I know I don't hit as hard, or adapt as fast. But I don't want to be carried. I don't want to be someone you protect because you have to." You knew that they had their group set before you, that they weren't expecting anyone else. Your hands clenched. "I want to be useful."

Ren stepped closer again, just enough that you felt the shift in presence, hovering over you. "You already are."

"That's easy for you to say," you replied. "You're-you."

Leader. Trickster. The one who always seemed to find the right move at the right time. He studied you for a moment, then nodded once, like he'd come to a decision.

"Then let's settle it."

You blinked, multiple times. "What?"

"Battle me," he said simply, as if his words did not carry weight.

Your head snapped up. "Ren, that's not-"

"Not about winning," he clarified. "Not about power scaling."

He met your eyes, steady and unwavering. So sure of himself, and you can't tell if he thinks he'd knock some sense into you or prove something to yourself.

"It's about proving you can stand beside us without tearing yourself apart to get there."

You hesitated. "You don't have to go easy."

A faint smile curved his lips. "I wasn't planning to."

The fight was quiet but intense, steel meeting steel, Personas flashing into being with practiced ease. Ren moved with fluid confidence, but he didn't overwhelm you. He adapted, responded, listened.

And you did the same.

You countered when he expected you to dodge. You held your ground when instinct screamed to retreat. Your Persona answered stronger this time, not louder nor brighter, but steadier.

When it ended, you were both breathing heavily.

You stood there, pulse racing, waiting for the verdict you'd already prepared yourself to accept. Ren recalled his Persona and looked at you, really looked.

"You didn't fall behind," he said.

You frowned. "I didn't win."

"That wasn't the point."

He stepped closer, voice quiet but firm. "You held your own. You adapted. You trusted yourself."

Your chest tightened.

"You don't need to chase us," Ren continued. "We don't run ahead to leave you behind." He reached out, not quite touching but close enough to be grounding. You took that step forward him, leaning into his touch. "You belong here. Not someday. Not after you're 'strong enough.' Now."

The weight you'd been carrying loosened, just a little.

"...You promise?" you asked.

Ren smiled, soft and certain.

"I wouldn't lie about that."

And for the first time since you joined the Phantom Thieves, you felt like you weren't struggling to catch up.

You were walking alongside them.

----

Bonus;

The Phantom Thieves noticed something was off the next day.

Not because you were weaker, but because you weren't.

Your timing was sharper. Your Persona responded without hesitation. You moved like someone who had finally stopped second-guessing every step. That alone would've raised questions.

What really gave you away was the exhaustion.

"Okay, hold up," Ryuji said, planting himself in your path before you could move to the next Shadow. "Since when do you ignore damage like that?"

Ann folded her arms, eyes narrowing. "You've been training alone again, haven't you?"

You hesitated, they knew, they talked about it.

They knew.

That was answer enough.

Makoto's expression shifted instantly. "How often?"

"Just...sometimes," you said, already regretting it.

"Sometimes." Futaba echoed flatly. "Define sometimes."

Yusuke tilted his head, studying you like a half-finished painting. "Your aura is strained. As though you have been pushing past your natural limits." Morgana stepped down to your feet, questioning how long.

You look to Ren. "I've already talked about this with Ren." You stated calmly, hands shaking which you shove in your school uniform. "I've been going to the Mementos to train."

"Damn it... why didn't you say something? Something could've happened." Ryuji ran a hand through his hair.

"I didn't want to slow anyone down," you admitted. "Everyone else awakened so fast. I just," you took a pause. "wanted to catch up.

Ren's hand trails to your wrist, gently grasping it.

"You don't have to catch up."

"You were chosen for a reason." Morgana stated, the voice of reason coming from the cat.

Ren steadied you as you swayed slightly, his grip remaining on you.

"...Oh," Ann said softly. Ryuji blinks, "Wait." and they paused and smiled slightly at the man behind you.

"Ren." Makoto's eyes widened a fraction, something you hadn't really seen from the class president. Futaba gasped theatrically in their ears. "OH! OHHHH!" she shouts excitedly and jumps up and down.

You flushed, confused. "What?" Ren’s hand was still on your arm. He hadn’t even noticed. The touch was comforting, it was natural.

Yusuke smiled faintly. “It seems our leader’s concern extends beyond strategy.”

Ren finally realized and promptly let go, ears faintly pink. You missed the warmth from his touch.

“I—” He cleared his throat. “We talked.”

“We battled,” you added quietly, laughing softly.

Ryuji’s jaw dropped. “You WHAT?”

Ann looked between the two of you, eyes bright. “Late-night Mementos duel?” Ever the romantic, the girl had stars in her eyes.

Makoto crossed her arms, but there was warmth there. “And you didn’t tell us.”

Ren met their gazes calmly. “It was necessary.”

“For who?” Futaba asked. “Because judging by the way you’re hovering, I’m guessing both of you.”

Ren didn’t deny it, he just looked at you. “You don’t have to prove anything to us,” he said. “Not by hurting yourself.” Your chest tightened, but this time it wasn’t fear.

Makoto stepped forward. “From now on, we train together. No more disappearing acts.”

Ann smiled. “You’re part of this team.”

Ryuji grinned. “Yeah, and if anyone’s falling behind, we pull them up, not leave them to grind solo.”

Futaba added, “Also Ren? You’re about as subtle as a crit hit.”

Ren sighed. “…Noted.” You laughed softly, the tension finally breaking.

As the group moved on, Ren fell into step beside you, not ahead, not behind.

Just there.

And this time, no one pretended not to notice.

----

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You do not have to do this, I am only putting this here because I am currently without a house and despite working constant hours it's barely making a dent. I hope you all enjoyed this.