Promiseswrittenonwater



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  1. Public Bookmark 90

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    Drenched in green, Satoru opened his mouth to say something and then he vanished. Left on the floor was a pile of his clothing, blindfold, and crawling over the high collar of his jacket, a palm sized frog. A frog that promptly fled in the direction of the curse.

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    22 Apr 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 52

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    Satoru’s hand is wrapped around the back of his head, his legs tight around his waist. He holds Megumi for a moment, a second, half a breath and the flinch of an eye, but it stretches in that moment, cuts through the gore and destruction that rains down around them. He’s bleeding, Megumi can smell it, the bright iron scent of his blood. He’s bleeding, mutilated, grinning. He’s weeping power, more energy than human, more energy than his splitting body can contain, but he takes a moment. And Megumi curls into it and it’s been so long. 

     

    It's heavy, the weight of family and the pull of gravity.

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    22 Apr 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “We found that it wasn’t so bad when…” Suguru feels his cheeks heat up now that he’s saying this out loud, realizing how fucking ridiculous it sounds. What is he supposed to say? 'Oh, my sisters always calmed down after I cradle them to my chest, want to give it a try?'

    But Satoru is still staring at him with wide eyes framed by deep bags, hands still clenching and unclenching over his heart, breath coming in pants that are getting more and more shallow, and Suguru stops explaining and just acts.

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    Getou and Gojo are self-declared sworn enemies who happen to get locked in a closet together... feelings ensue

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    22 Apr 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    If he’s asked, Fushiguro Megumi will say he doesn’t have parents. 

    “He was always this real grumpy guy, yeah?” Yuuji had said a week ago, a corner of his mouth ticking up. “Like, total geezer. I’d go to visit him all the time, and I’d bring flowers and nice stuff to cheer him up, and he’d just yell at me to, ‘get gone, boy! Quit bringing me shit and go and do something worthwhile!’”

    “I’m not ashamed of you,” he admits, small, timid, and knows Satoru doesn’t believe him one bit by the way his face does something complicated. A smile, a grimace, a wince.

    “Of course not,” he says, and it sounds just as unsteady as Megumi feels.

    Sometimes, he hates himself.

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    19 Apr 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Special grades are supposed to be special—that’s why they’re classified like that,” Yuuji tells him, the blandness of his voice at odds with the way he’s staring at Satoru like he can bore through Infinity and human flesh. “My teacher, the man whose face you’re wearing—he’s the one who told me that. But you’re not special. You’re crawling everywhere like cockroaches, killing and eating and hurting. It’s never going to end, is it? This cycle of curses. It will never end.”

    Something…is very wrong here.

    “Yuuji-kun,” Satoru says as delicately as he can manage, “I think you’re a little confused.”

    Yuuji calmly raises his right hand and scores his fingers down his entire left arm. His nails tear into flesh. Blood streams down the gaping gouges—and then away from the skin, rising high into the air to form a cutting arc.

    “That’s Blood Manipulation,” Satoru states, eyeing how the gouges on Yuuji’s arm close. “And reverse cursed technique. Are you aware that you’re supposed to be a hapless non-sorcerer, by the way?”

    The fifteen-year-old boy whom Satoru ties to a chair in the isolation chamber isn’t the furious calamity who wakes up.

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    17 Apr 2026