Arviat, Nunavut, a community of about 3,200 people on the western coast of Hudson Bay, was selected by Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami to host the u
Big changes are coming to the small community of Arviat, Nunavut.
Starting this summer, 1,800 truckloads of gravel are going to be laid down at the site where construction will take place in the hamlet to build the main campus for Inuit Nunangat University (INU) and a student residence.
Time is of the essence. The first cohort of students at the first Inuit-led university in Canada is expected in 2030.
⌯⌲ summary: a special grade curse you were sent to pursue leaves inumaki and reader in bad shape, bad enough that there’s nothing stopping a confession, nor a kiss.
⌯⌲ tags: SFW (for once), sorcerer au, friends to lovers, fluff, aged up inumaki (he’s 24), some mentions of violence, mentions of blood (lots of it, it’s in the title), making out, sweet confession :)
⌯⌲ wc: 1.4k
⌯⌲ a/n: i love inumaki with the power of a thousand suns. maybe more.
✶⋆.˚꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦٠࣪⭑
the curse is tough, tougher than usual, and it throws you to the side like you were a discarded napkin. toge screams as you crash into a building, slumping onto the concrete weakly.
violet eyes squint in determination, he sticks his tongue out, taking a deep breath, and faces the curse, “DISSIPATE!”
the force of the command rips through the last barrier in his throat, a pained gargle spilling out of his throat as the curse is exorcised. he stumbles towards you, gasping and spitting blood, and grips your shoulders.
toge’s throat burns - no, throbs - as he shakes you, unable to speak. his hand weakly holds your cheek, thumb pulling down on the skin, and your eyes flutter open after a moment with a groan.
“fuck… god damnit.” you mumble, slowly sitting up. your back ached, a dull throb coursing through your skin, but you could feel every limb, moving your toes with a sigh of relief.
as toge feels you wake, his body falters, kneeling weakly in front of you. an unsettling, deep, hoarse whimper spills out of his mouth, along with blood. a lot of blood.
it drips down the corners of his lips, and the sound of his tender throat - the crunch of his vocal chords as he breathes slowly - echoes in your ear. his tired violet eyes glazing over, too tired to focus. another whisper of a groan slips from his throat, eyes squeezing shut in pain. with toge kneeling in front of you, his arms limp, and hands resting on his thigh, you shakily cup his jaw in your palms, thumbs brushing the blood away from his mouth. you watch as it smears against his skin, and he frowns, shaking his head.
he looks down at the ground, where blood has begun to pool, and carefully traces two words onto the concrete: “don’t worry.”
“i cant do that, toge.” you whisper, taking your sleeve and wiping the blood from his cheeks. “there just… there has to be a better way to do this.”
he shakes his head once more, frost white hair brushing from side to side. you stare at him, a heavy silence weighing down the air around you, and a tear softly falls down your cheek. the fight had worn you down, your mental state stripped to it’s rawest form, and you were barely holding it all in. the pain in your spine, the fact that you couldn’t fully inhale without your chest closing up, the dizziness, the way the world spinned… the aching sight of toge, bleeding and on the verge of collapse. you quickly wipe the tear off with your sleeve, toge’s blood smearing on your own skin now, and he watches, wincing every now and then.
“mus…mus…tard leaf (stop, don’t worry).” toge rasps out, hand weakly reaching for yours. the wind whips around the two of you, the battleground quiet with the metallic aroma of blood: his, yours, your peers. toge slowly grips your forearms, steadying himself, and leaning his forehead down to rest on your shoulder.
you rest your cheek on his head, inhaling the exhaustion emanating from his body, the sweat on his scalp, crusted blood (his? your’s?). you carefully wrap your arms around his neck, cradling his head against you.
“can’t… can’t lose you, toge.” you murmur against his hair.
you feel him whisper into your skin, “f-fish…flakes (you’ll never lose me).”
“you’ll destroy yourself if you aren’t careful.” your last word comes at hushed, an almost-whisper. you gently pull back to look at him, and he smiles sadly with a nod.
he traces another sentence on the ground, “won’t have to be silent around you if no cursed energy.”
a drop of blood drops from his lips again, and he sticks his tongue out, coughing, letting congealed blood slip from his throat. he gazes at you softly, tenderly, wiping his lips with his hand.
“toge…” you say quietly. his bloody fingers move up to your lips, thumb brushing your bottom lip gently.
“salmon (i’m okay).” the blood smears across your lips, but none of it matters. your tongue darts out to lick your lips, tasting the iron he’d left across your skin. the flavor is decadent, somehow. it’s toge, it tastes like him. you savor the flavor like it’s all you needed to keep going - hell, maybe it was - and share a long moment of silence with toge, eyes meeting with a yearning frown, but held back.
his violet eyes speak, a soft, hooded gaze pushing your words from your mouth, as if he is commanding it. not even sure if he knows what he’s doing. but he sees. notes the twinkle in your eye when you talk to him. knows damn well what you are to him, but what is he to you?
“i love you.” the confession slips out of your lips without realizing, your brain exhausted and tired of masking yourself from him. your eyes widen, lips parting to take it back, unsure if you even wanted to take it back at all, but toge interrupts you with a hand raised in front of you.
“i…” toge begins, and your eyes follow his, but he shakes his head. his palm grazes your cheek, angling your gaze down to the ground, where he traces another message: “i live for you.”
“toge…”
his finger drags across the defiled concrete, his breath shaping the words as he writes, hand trembling: “i love you.”
he swallows thickly, meeting your eyes with a sharp flick of his head. toge’s hands tremble as he suspends them in front of his stomach, unsure of where to put them. in his lap? on your cheek? on your lap?
he gasps roughly as you grasp his hands.
“c-can i… kiss you-“ you pant.
“salmon. (yes)” you can barely get the question out before he’s responding, his lips gently pushing into yours. your hands find his collar, pulling him towards you gently.
the taste of his blood is enough to make you murmur a short whispering moan into his lips. toge’s voice breaks as he grunts, kissing your bottom lip, cupids bow, the corner of your lips. he pulls away, bringing his index finger to your mouth
“what’s wr-wrong, toge?”
he taps your bottom lip, guiding your lips to a soft parting, “salmon salmon. (that’s it, good)” toge whispers lowly as he leans in, tongue slipping between your teeth and kissing you like your tongue was all he was missing.
your teeth scrape his, your brain filling with the sensation of a cycle releasing. the years of aching for toge, his soft pink lips that he hid, the long tongue that gave him power. the memories of getting lost in the shape of his eyes, tired at the end of the day, and realizing toge was watching you stare.
his hands had since slipped behind your jaw, clasping his hands around your neck to anchor himself. toge laughs softly, throat scratchy, into your lips, then pulls back, closing his eyes in focus.
“are you-“ your hand finds his cheek, and he gently grasps your wrist. he’s trembling, breath shaky, but his thumb is brushing the inside of your wrist as he struggles to take in a deep breath.
“i…” toge begins, his eyes stay closed, as if he’s convincing himself of something. his eyes flutter open, brow furrowed, “have loved…you…for…as long…as i’ve…known…you.”
he pauses between every couple words, voice shaking with each rasping murmur. every word was considered. his every bit of concentration keeping you free of compulsion, and you gasp sharply, quietly.
“toge,” your hands cover your face, head leaned over, but he takes your hands away, tilting his head to meet your downturned gaze with an inquisitive, doe-eyed stare. you close your eyes for a moment, then meet his violet gaze, “the only man i have ever loved is you. since… since we met.” your whisper ghosts his lips.
the lines of toge’s markings perk up, corners of his mouth lifting shyly, “salmon roe! (well, would you look at that)”
the blood on toge’s mouth has since dried or been rubbed off onto your skin; his thumb brushes a smudge of dried blood off the corner of your lip, eyes wandering the expanse of your face like he’s burning the image of you into his retinas.
he looks down at your forearm, and traces one word into your skin.
“mine.”
you nod and meet his gaze reverently, pressing your palm into his, and threading your fingers through his own. lips parting, you lean in until you can feel his breath on your chin, and his chapped lips against yours. you whisper,
