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yesimwriting · 2 years ago

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Resurgence

A/n this is a product of me going with the flow to get rid of some writer’s block, i originally wanted to write a jason x reader story but this became much more background heavy and turned into something else so i’m thinking maybe mini series! some found family vibes, idk though

Summary: After an impulsive attempt to run away with your best friend ends in an accident that alters everything about you (literally--like on a genetic level), you’re pushed into the Titan’s world.

----

Earlier.

I know it’s too early for total cynicism, but the note Jenna left out on the counter doesn’t allow for much else. A passive aggressive, vague scribbling reminding me that just because we went to bed and woke up doesn’t mean the fight is over. The note is taped to a box of cereal because she’s pointedly reminding me that there’s a reason she’s not here making me breakfast. Whatever.

I pour myself a bowl before pulling open the door to the fridge. The nearly empty carton of milk is expired. Perfect.

My phone starts to buzz before I can get rid of souring milk. Violet’s contact name and picture takes up my screen as I pick up the device. “Hey.”

“Do you remember yesterday? When you were talking about just getting in a car and driving anywhere and everywhere and never looking back?”

Intense way to start a before 8AM call. “Weird conversation starter... but yeah.”

She sighs, the sound a puff of air into my receiver. “I took my step dad’s car, I’m about to pass your house, do you want to come with me?”

Oh my god. She’s lost it. “Are you insane?”

“Do you want to get out of here or not?”

My eyes fall to the skirt of my uniform and then to Jenna’s note. Memories of last night’s argument hit with no warning. “Let’s go.”

----

Present.

There’s light and then I’m plunged back into darkness. A nothingness that I can feel. A nothingness that aches. Get up. Get up. Get--

My body won’t move. I latch onto the only thing I can, the faint prickle of light from behind my eyes. It’s kind of...irritating. And I can hear a strange, flat ringing. I screw my eyes shut tighter, a touch of mobility returning. Slowly, enough of it comes back for me to open my eyes.

Okay. I’m staring at a roof. Not at the sky...and not at Violet’s...The thought brings me back to the pain in my body. Everything is sore, but I’m resting somewhere that should be comfortable. A bed, not the side of the road...not the last place I remember.

Wait--where am I? I sit up fully, the buzzing noise turns into a sporadic mess of beeping. Each bump of noise feels like it’s striking me in the head. My hands stretch forward to rub my face. The movement feels like mush and restrained.

My eyes drop to my arms. There’s a tube sticking out of my arm, an object I vaguely register as an IV. A few other wires are sticking out from me, including a tube in my nose. Okay--this is getting weird. I sit up a little more before twisting my fingers around the oxygen tube.

“I wouldn’t--” My body presses as far back into the cot as I physically can before snapping my head forward. There’s a guy standing next to one of two chairs lined neatly against a wall. “I don’t think you should touch that.”

Has he been here the entire time? And--and what is ‘the entire time’? How long has it been since Violet?

The question claws its way all the way to the tip of my tongue. I clamp my mouth shut to keep from asking it because I already know. After what I saw...what I felt...I know the answer. No one gets put back together after going through what happened to Violet and the last thing I want right now is to get into it with a stranger who may or may not be a danger. Speaking it into the world feels too real, too solid a vulnerability.

All I can do is stare at the stranger. His neat brown hair and put together posture seem mature enough that he could be a doctor if I’m going with the assumption that this is a hospital, but that doesn’t feel right. He’s not wearing a lab coat and his clothing feels a little too casual. He also feels a little too young to have finished med school.

“...You’re not a doctor.”

He takes my analysis well, tilting his chin down quickly in some sort of nod. “No.” The stranger takes a small step forward, more of a shift in my direction. “What do--do you know where you are? Do you remember anything?”

The question is a jab to already bruised ribs. Do I remember? Remember the car that came out of nowhere, that started chasing us at the gas station; the box Jenna pulled out from under the seats; the electric feeling of that liquid in my veins; waking up again and seeing the wreckage, seeing Jenna...

I swallow it all down, eyeing the stranger a little more cautiously. The urgency is weird. There are only so many reasons for a stranger to be in a hospital room with me. There’s a small chance he’s just some kind of good samaritan, who found me bleeding out somehow. He could also be with the people from the car or--or something else. Something bigger.

“Why do you care?” The words feel too raspy to have any real bite. “Actually, a better question--who even are you?”

His eyebrows draw together briefly, almost reluctantly. “I’m Dick Grayson.”

It’s a patient introduction, not exactly soft but politer than I expected. I don’t know what the appropriate reaction is, so I just nod.

Something about the way he’s lingering tells me that this strange interaction hasn’t been enough for him. Dick is going to push his questions or ask something else or maybe even justify his presence, but before he gets to do any of that, the door is pushed open.

A woman in a lab coat doesn’t even throw a curious glance in Dick’s direction. Does that indicate that he’s been in here for awhile? Or--or did he tell the hospital we’re in that I know him somehow?

“Okay,” the doctor hums, extending the last syllable as she glances at a clipboard, “You’re looking a lot better after the scare you gave us.” Her eyes shift away from my chart and towards the heart monitor that’s now beeping steadily, “Hm. That last alert must have been some kind of system error.”

Whatever that means. “Uh--scare?”

She presses her lips together, briefly turning her attention back to the clip board. “You were rushed into treatment, your body has experienced significant trauma.” The doctor pauses to take a breath, “Maybe this would be better discussed later. With a parent.”

“What happened after...the accident?” She still seems unsure. “Please.”

The doctor lets out a hesitant sigh, “During your treatment, your heart briefly stopped.” I--I flatlined? “But after you restabilized, there were no further complications and you seem well on your way to making a full recovery.” I nod blankly. “Is there anyone we should call for you?” Ugh. Jenna’s so going to kill me. “Could you use a minute first?”

“A minute sounds like a good idea.” Whoever Dick Grayson is, he has no issue over inserting himself.

The doctor nods, being suspiciously unsuspicious of the random guy, “Alright, I’ll be back.”

She leaves; Dick doesn’t. I turn my arm over, staring at the IV in my arm. Maybe if I’m quiet enough, he’ll leave.

“You remember the accident.” Guess the assumption that he’d just leave was an optimistic one.

My fingers twist the thin fabric of the hospital blanket. “Did you find me or something?”

Dick pauses, thinking about the best way to answer what must feel like a fragile question. “Or something.” Weird. “That car you were in, it wasn’t yours.”

Great, now I’m not only going to have to tell Violet’s parents what happened to her, I’m also going to get arrested for stealing a car. “No.”

The confession has no affect on him. He seemed sure enough in his assumption, so maybe he already decided my answer wouldn’t matter. “Did you know what was in the car?”

There’s a generalness in the question that I could use to my advantage--should use to my advantage--but the memories resurfacing make all rational thought impossible. The stuff in the car is what got me here.

“No,” the answer is more honest than I should be, “Not until after.”

His eyebrows pinch together, a hint of something less stoic bleeding into his expression. Maybe a touch of empathy. It’s not overbearing or much, but the shift is enough to make me feel exposed. Too exposed for some guy who I met through a hospital room and has only given me his name. A part of me wishes my phone was on me--a google search could potentially help.

I flatten my hands on my lap. “How do you know about the car?” The last people that knew about the weird fluid rammed themselves into a car until it flipped off a bridge. He could easily be working for them--some nice enough looking guy to make sure I woke up without freaking out and alerting anyone.

“I’m not with them.” Dick provides his defense stiffly, like he’s aware of its lack of strength.

The call button is only inches away from my hand. “Right, ‘cause the people that used a car to push my car off a bridge are for sure above lying.”

He takes another mini-step forward. “I’m actually trying to help you.”

Another thing he can’t prove. “Then tell me how you know about the blue stuff.”

Dick tries to suppress a sigh. I can’t tell if he was working under the assumption that I’d just wake up and happily go along with whatever. “...Because I’ve been looking for it.”

“That’s not sketchy at all.”

Something else tugs at his expression that’s different than before. Not pity or an apology, more like a general acknowledgement of how weird he’s being. “I saw the accident.” The words hit harder than they should considering the lack of meanness. “One of the vials was missing.”

Right before the accident, I opened the small box to see what Violet was talking about. I took one of the vials out to examine it and then the car flipped. “So you have the other vials?”

My question isn’t appreciated. “Do you know what happened after the accident?” The first few minutes, I was still awake. Conscious enough to crawl my way out of the car, but everything after that is stuck behind a dark wall. He takes my silence as an answer. “The battery was completely fried, but the engine was still running.”

That’s a fun fact? “Uh--cool?” I never did ask him anything that would reveal how mentally well he is. “I must have missed that while trying to crawl out of it before it exploded or something.”

“I didn’t--” The corner of my mouth turns up a little at his slight unease. I wasn’t sarcastic with the intention of being mean or making the stranger uncomfortable, but I’m not exactly mad it happened. He seems to catch onto the fact that I’m only giving him a hard time because I can. “Cars need batteries to run.”

Dick’s eyes stay trained on me after those words, analyzing my reaction to them. My first instinct is to dismiss it. I can’t imagine that car ever being fixed and car batteries are replaceable. That’s the least of its issues. Then it hits me--how was the engine running? “Oh.” He’s still watching. Why? “...What does a car have to do with me?”

“The people that are looking for the vials are dangerous.” I lift an arm to gesture to my IV, a quiet way of saying no shit. “They’re going to come back.”

My stomach knots at that. It’s not like I necessarily thought this was all over, but I hadn’t considered what could happen next. “I don’t have the missing vial.” As far as I know, he’s no one important, but the urge to get him to believe me hits hard and fast. “It probably fell and--and shattered or something.”

His expression doesn’t give me anything to work with. “If you come with me, I can test if it had any effects on you--”

Okay, I know a kidnapping scam when I see one. “You’re kidding, right?” He keeps his blankness, his posture somehow straighter than it was before. Dick’s radiating a sense of authority that’s definitely practiced. “Are you asking or telling?”

“I’m trying to help.”

“And if I don’t want your help because there’s no way some weird, lab goo did anything to me?” My hand shifts forward, reaching for the remote with the help button. “You seem nice enough, thank you for not leaving me to die in some underpass, but I think it’s time you go. Good luck with your goo situation.”

Dick’s eyes drop down to my hand. In about two steps, he’s at the side of my bed. “Don’t.”

I’ve never wanted to press a button more in my life. My thumb finds the trigger, but before I can press it, a strong grip secures itself around my wrist. He moved so quickly, I’m still registering the fact that he went to grab me. Who is this guy?

Before I can warn him that I have nothing against screaming bloody murder until someone separates us, I’m snapped out of my thoughts. My body feels disconnected, like it’s floating.

A light flickers behind my eyes, glazing over my vision. Some strong, hard to name thing pulls at my stomach, an even stronger feeling settles in my chest. That one is easier to listen to as something flickers to the front of my mind like a hazy memory or unfinished dream. I can’t tell what it is, but my body knows to trust it. To believe it. Do I know him?

The feeling is so close to familiarity that it feels like a physical hit. My fingers go slack, and the remote slips from my grasp and onto the cot. He lets go and moves back into place immediately.

I know that deciding whether or not to let some random guy run some sort of test on me cannot be a choice so influenced by a vibe. But what I saw has drained most of the fight from me. Maybe it’s a side effect of the car accident. Like some type of internal bleeding?

“Sorry, I don’t--”

“You want to run some tests on me or--?” It’s more of a summary for me than a direct question for him. Ugh. Maybe if he had asked for anything less weird...then again, I can’t think of anything that wouldn’t be weird from a stranger that’s just in my hospital room. “How do you even know about this?”

He hesitates, “Long story.”

Helpful. I guess it is kind of comforting that he’s this bad at getting me to want to come with him, because no respectable kidnapper would be this openly weird. And that instinct is still at the back of my mind, urging me to trust him. “You get that you’re super sketchy, right?” If this is some kind of trap, I deserve what I’m going to get. “If I agree, can I borrow a phone to call someone?” Grabbing my phone wasn’t a priority when I crawled out of that car, and I really doubt it somehow miraculously made its way to the hospital with me.

“Parents?”

Jenna’s so gonna kill me. “Sort of.” I’m not in the mood to get into my living situation, so I just stare at my sheets before he can ask. “What? You’re the only that gets to be cryptic?” The attempt at humor surprises me. He’s still a stranger, but my head isn’t accepting that.

“You can call them.”

“Then...okay.” I’m going to end up on dateline and my episode will be so boring some girl with a true crime podcast will skip my episode. “But if you’re some kidnapping serial killer, I will fuck you up.”

The corner of his mouth turns up a bit, like something about what I said is amusing him. Kind of rude, considering that I’m being completely serious, but I can’t decide if that makes me feel better or worse about my decision.

----

This might be one of the nicest buildings I’ve ever stepped foot in. It’s not like the building Dick’s led me to is overly extravagant, but it’s definitely structured in a way that feels well off. Like it’s owned by the kind of rich person that’s so wealthy they don’t feel the need to prove it.

“Dude,” I give myself a second to take in the space, “If you had led with how nice this place is, we could’ve skipped the whole hospital argument.”

My presence here feels a little bit like a smudge. It’s not like I’m always put together or feel like I should be overly dressed up, but the hospital gave me back what I was wearing during the accident. Because Violet decided to runaway before school, I left the house in my uniform. It’s not the cruelest thing I’ve seen a Catholic school put someone in, but the plaid skirt and white button down don’t do much for my confidence, and they didn’t exactly hold up in the chaos of the accident...neither did my hair or face.

“Really?”

I shrug, still looking around the space, “It definitely wouldn’t have hurt.” Tugging on the dirt smeared edge of my sleeve, I turn back to him. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” It’s not information I really wanted to give, but I’m already here. It’s not like he can double kidnap me if that’s what this is, and knowing who I am won’t change anything. If he tries to use me for ransom all he’ll be able to get from Jenna is an IOU. “Felt weird that I hadn’t said that yet.”

The car accident must have seriously damaged my self preservation abilities, or maybe it’s the fact that anything I can latch onto is a distraction from Violet, because I step further into the room, fully entering the space and seeing the full living room.

Two heads on the side of the couch that I couldn’t see before snap towards me so quickly it almost feels like they moved in sync. The one farthest from me has a dark purple bob and the boy next to her has green hair. The stare off is a little weird and refuels my doubts. They both look a lot closer to my age than Dick’s.

The girl breaks the silence, “Who’s this?”

I’m not sure if that’s a question directed at me or Dick, but I answer anyway, “I--”

“You wanted to call someone, right?” Dick steps up so that he’s next to me, handing me an unlocked cell phone.

Weird place to jump in, but at least he isn’t being cagey and taking away my ability to contact someone. “Yeah.” I take the phone, already dreading this conversation. “Could I get some water?”

“Kitchen’s that way, take whatever you want.” Looking through a rich guy’s fridge might take the sting out of being berated by Jenna.

I start walking in the direction he gestured towards. “Cool.”

After finding the kitchen, I dial Jenna’s number. She answers on the second ring. “Okay--don’t freak out.”

“Where the fuck are you? Were you kidnapped?”

“One, that sounds like freaking out. Two, why are you always assuming I’ve been kidnapped?”

She sighs before getting my name out in a way that tells me to not mess with her right now. That makes me cut to the chase, summarizing majority of what happened and glossing over what I can’t get out or explain. She gets extra mad when I tell her that I followed a stranger home just because they said they found me. Jenna rightfully yells at me, and then finally asks me where I am.

The realization that I have no clue makes me feel a lot worse about the situation. I paid extra attention on the drive here, but no part of this felt like any part of Gotham I’ve ever been to. Maybe it’s because it’s a richer area?

I duck my head back into the living room, “Hey, Dick?” He looks up from the two in the living room, who I guess he was giving some context to. “I’m on the phone and someone wants to pick me up. Where are--” Jenna cuts me off in that way of hers, reminding me how much I suck at giving directions. “Uh--she wants to talk to you.”

His eyebrows draw together, “Your mom?”

Shrugging, I start walking towards him. “Uh--my Jenna,” I hold the phone out towards him, “That’s like having a mom, just...louder.” He eyes the phone oddly. “You’ll see.” He’ll have to, Jenna gets her way.

Dick takes the phone, instantly catching on to what I meant and stepping away to talk to her. He throws out the part of stolen car, which would have been nice for him to keep to himself. Then he says...San Francisco, which makes no sense to me because Violet and I were nowhere near California. That’s where she wanted to go, but we barely made it out of Gotham before it all happened.

I blink, sitting down on the couch in shock. My head then turns to the boy next to me, “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

After a second, he smiles politely and says, “Gar.”

“Nice to meet you,” a little awkward, but he’s looking at me so politely I can’t help but fall back on normal habits, “Are we not in Gotham?”

He briefly looks confused and then a little apologetic, “No.”

Great, I’m brain damaged. That’s the only logical explanation for how I got to San Francisco without even realizing it. “...Cool.”

The girl sits up a little more, looking over at me, “Are you okay?”

“Uh,” all of my potential answers make me sound insane, “I’ve been better.”

Dick’s conversation with Jenna seems to be getting calmer, which bugs me a little. I can’t explain it, it’s just suspicious that he’s not only this super upstanding guy that helped me get to and from the hospital, he’s also capable of getting Jenna on his side. He ends the call.

Before he can give any kind of update, I’m already up, “How am I not in Gotham?” I don’t give him the chance to answer. “You said you saw the accident, so that means you got me here.”

“No.” I wonder how quickly I could get out of here. My body’s still sore, but pain’s something to worry about later. “I--exaggerated on how much I saw.”

He’s not exactly helping himself, “So you've been lying this entire time.”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

That sounds like something a kidnapper would be worried about. Panic rises in my chest and the room feels too hot, too charged. The lights briefly waver and that only adds to my stress. “Then how did I get here?”

Dick’s looking at me the same way he did in the hospital. A hesitant sort of empathy. It’s restrained, but it feels so genuine that my stomach twists. If he’s not the one that dragged me here, then that means that--and how much time did I lose?

It feels too naive to believe him just because of a look, but that would explain a lot. If he had seen the accident, he would have had more questions. He probably would have mentioned Violet. “How’d you find me? And--and why’d you say that stuff about the car battery?”

“They had you, and the battery thing was a little different than what I said.” The confirmation is a punch to the gut. How long was I out? What did they do to me? Why did they take me when they had the vials? “Jenna’s flying out first thing tomorrow.” I must look like I’m about to snap, because he’s making a point of keeping his words even and slow. I don’t know how she’s going to fly out considering she maxed out her credit card trying to buy concert tickets. “We can get you something more comfortable to wear and something to eat before we get into anything else.”

He’s just trying to be nice, understanding, but it makes me feel too much like a little kid. Especially since there are two people around my age watching this play out. There’s still a chance this is some kind of trap, but it’s a little too late to decide if I trust him. I give in with a reluctant nod.

----

The shower pressure I just experienced is something that I can’t see myself forgetting. Before I walked into the bathroom the girl, who I learned is named Rachel, brought me something comfortable. Some elastic pajama pants and a black crewneck.

I don’t know how much of it is Rachel being genuine or if Dick told her to hang around a little, but she showed up a little after I got out of the shower and took me to a guest bedroom so I could put away my clothes. She then walked me to the kitchen, awkwardly admitted that they’re overdue for a grocery run before giving me some options.

Rachel ends up making me a grilled cheese. It’s a little awkward letting a stranger do something for me, but it’d feel even weirder casually using an unfamiliar kitchen like I live here.

My hunger felt all consuming until food was put in front of me. I keep thinking of Violet and all the hours I lost. But rationally, I know I should eat something and that it’d be kind of rude not to, so I take small bites of the edge of my sandwich.

I’m still working on the first triangular half when Gar shows up, offering me another polite smile. I force myself to return it even though the day’s starting to catch up with me.

“Uh-hey,” he walks into the kitchen, “I know I introduced myself earlier, but that was...” Gar brushes that train of thought away with a small breath, “Uh--are you feeling better?”

I nod, turning to face him, “The shower helped.” I set my half of the grilled cheese down, “I picked so many twigs out of my hair.” Why would I say that?

“Yeah, you look a little better.” He reaches the counter, tapping his fingers on the counter, “Not that you looked bad before! Just that you look like you’re feeling a little better.”

The correction comes out like a knee-jerk reaction. Like he really thought he might have offended me. “I get it,” I can’t help but smile a little, “And absolutely no worries if you had meant it the other way, I saw myself in the mirror. I definitely looked accurate to my car accident.” I thought mentioning the car accident casually would make it feel breezy and normal, but it just feels sad. “There’s no non-weird way to say that.”

“It’s fine.” Gar’s words come out so assured I almost believe him, “We’ve heard weirder.”

Rachel nods, “A lot weirder.”

I look between the two of them before taking another bite out of my grilled cheese. They’re both looking at me while trying to pretend that they’re doing something else. I guess I know how my 4th grade class guinea pig felt.

A part of me wants to start conversation. Some of it is the awkward feel of silence and some of it is the urge to return their niceness, but I’m also tired and not sure how much of a point there is. Tomorrow, I’ll be back home and likely permanently grounded.

“Do you feel like we’re hovering?” Rachel’s question takes me by surprise. Before I can instinctually tell them that they’re both fine, she continues, “We can give you some space if you want. I know it’s a little overwhelming.”

What is? Showing up here? The accident? It shouldn’t matter considering that I’m leaving tomorrow. “Some quiet might be nice,” I admit, “Just because Dick’s probably going to show up and get me to--” He never did specify what he was going to check out about me. Do they know that’s why I’m here? Also--why are they here? “I don’t even know. Just something I’m not really looking forward to.”

“We get it,” Rachel hums, stepping away from the counter, “We’ll give you a minute.”

The two actually leave, a part of me is surprised at how genuine that was. They didn’t even linger like I might at best steal something and at worse finally snap. I get two minutes of quiet before the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen puts me back into focus mode.

I tilt my head slightly, expecting Rachel or Gar or maybe even Dick. It’s...none of them. The person I don’t know walks straight past me and towards the fridge. They open it, the small light illuminating their skin in a way that makes the sheen of sweat impossible to ignore.

He pulls out a bottle of water, shuts the door, and then looks at me. There’s no hint of surprise as his eyes briefly focus on my face before trailing downwards. Is he-- “Something happen to your face?”

This again. Stupid car accident had to bust my lip and bruise my face. “Uh--” While Rachel and Gar were attentive and purposefully polite, trying to apply regular social standards to an abnormal situation, this guy doesn’t seem to care about that at all. The thought of just blankly stating the car accident thing again, especially to someone this forward, is so unappealing I just blurt out, “Drug deal gone wrong.”

Oh my god, the more I interact with people, the more I realize there has to be something seriously wrong with me. Like brain damage. Like over-40-pro-football player lever of concussed.

Before I can say anything, he tilts his head again, looking me over more openly than before, "Right, because you seem the type.”

I can’t tell if he’s making fun of me or amused. Probably the first one. “The best drug dealers don’t seem like drug dealers.”

“Really?” There’s a level of kind-of-there annoyance that throws me. Like irritated is his natural state and it’s miracle enough that I didn’t make it worse. But the confidence in his voice keeps it from being fully bitter.

“No,” I tap my nails on the counter, “I just didn’t feel like getting into the car accident thing again.”

He’s quiet for a second, “And you thought drug deals would be easier?”

I shrug, feeling a little smaller. I can’t tell if I can’t stand him or think he’s a little funny. “Must be an early sign of brain damage.”

He tilts his water bottle in a vague gesture towards my face. “I’d believe it.”

Rude. I know I just said it, but still. “At least I have an excuse.”

His eyebrows draw together in offense, and it doesn’t make me feel great. He wasn’t that bad and that was sort of a jump, but I’ll probably never see him again, so...

“What’s your--”

Before he can get into any sort of rant, a voice cuts him off, “Jason.” Oh, it’s Dick. I turn my head enough to catch his tense look. “Leave her alone.”

“She started it.”

Okay, yeah, I think he annoys me more than I find him funny. “Nice come back,” I mumble, pushing away from the counter, “What are you? 12?”

“If you want to find out--”

Ah. I’ve been through too much today for this. "Like that line’s ever worked.”

He isn’t swayed by my reaction, “Trust me, I don’t need--”

“Okay,” Dick inserts himself into the conversation, and a part of me is glad for the excuse to leave. “Enough.” He then looks at me, “Are you ready?”

At least it’ll be over soon. “As long as you don’t tell me that stuff turned me part alien or whatever.”

He draws his eyebrows together, “Part alien?”

“So magical science goo is real, but my thing’s unrealistic.”

#dc titans #titans show #titans x reader #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd #redhood #redhood x reader #gar logan #rachel roth

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twistedstoryteller · 8 months ago

Note

What are your genre, tone, and topic preferences in fics? Which Link or relationships between Links do you like? Favorite ships for the Links and their partners? Preferences on the angst-to-fluff scale? Epics Tales vs One-Shots? AUs? Character driven vs plot-driven?

I can make better recommendations from there. Or I can just drop a list tomorrow (Ive been meaning to make one anyway).

First of all, oh my god that was fast and wow. I actually never genuinely thought too much on those kind of questions. Though I guess if I can sum it up

it’s kinda free lance, so nothing too specific I honestly have no preference between the epic stories and one shots. That and seeing the character and plot one could both technically quite the forte for me. I do prefer to at least see a happy ish ending for them(No unhappy endings, I avoid those. Plus no explicit ones either please. I very much definitely avoid those). Relationship between the Links, I enjoy them all. I do especially enjoy the brother bonds between them all, I’m quite chill(I’ve been getting to know what’s in the fandom as best I can ever since I jumped into this rabbit hole :]). I love to give them a hug if possible too, AUs seem cool cool, however I like to see them mostly focus on the time era of well the Chain are in aka no modern AUs in the list this time(Hey I don’t hate them, I mean I got one already forming at the back of my head at the moment, it’s just not what I’m looking for right now, though I don’t mind a separate list for that later), maybe Minish Four or Legend and Fable being siblings. Favorite ships plus the angst and fluff scale, on the other hand

Where do I even begin! Oh man, for starters and the easiest I can get out of the way. Ships, ahem. Time x Malon, that is obviously. Sky x Sun and Legend x Marin is there too(of course I can chill with Legend x Ravio but I prefer Legend x Marin). I really like Wild x Mipha a lot. Warriors x Artemis too(doesn’t have to be a requirement), Hyrule x Zelda(been bouncing between Aurora and Dawn cause well, different interpretations of them) as well(also not a requirement). But the ones I definitely want to say is not only Wind x Tetra but also Four x Dot!(I’m still sad there isn’t too much content around that :{) I love these two ships very much, especially with me thinking how wholesome these ships can be(well Four and Dot can, Wind and Tetra might be more, behind well. Pirates 🏴‍☠️ and how they are in general. They are more of an action couple. Wholesome can still squeeze in there just not as much as I can imagine for Four X Dot). I believe the next one is the scale of angst and fluff and I got to say I love everything in that scale. From the fluffiest of fluff with happy hugs and cuddling, to the deepest of deep angst where they are all suffering and crying. I love it, Hurt and Comfort that has both. Is even better cause it can have both the fluffiest of fluff and the angsty of angst. There’s literally so much you can do there. Like

a certain palace of the four sword that can be between Four and Legend for example! Gosh there literally so much I want to see and more. I really hope this isn’t too hard on you

🥺

However I’ll be really grateful regardless

🥹

🙏

#linked universe #linkeduniverse

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goqmir · 1 year ago

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sorry if this is a bad question for ur blog but do you happen to have any good recs for how to learn magic the gathering? it looks cool but also i have no idea where to start

sure i mean definitely the number one thing u need is someone to play with, ideally someone that already knows the game. if this is offline then if they already have decks u could borrow one of theirs, otherwise u could get an mtg starter set which i think comes with 2 decks for pretty cheap! if its online thats great because u have literally every card at your disposal assuming youre playing in a commander sim against your friends! our playgroup uses tabletop simulator which works GREAT but theres a 20$ buy in to the application (its worth it. plus you can import 3d models during the game and play other tabletop games there too. its a good app to have on hand) alternatively ive heard things about cockatrice for free but i have no experience. commander is the format that everyone loves to play and build casually where you pick a main guy and build around him but i know theres plenty of people who will swear to you that limited (the draft and sealed formats) are the way to go and youll see a lot of them play with custom "cubes" (custom-built limited draft formats with around 360-720+ cards) and the traditional 60-card formats are alive and well especially on mtg arena! if u have homies that want to play commander or cube id recommend giving it a shot with them! theyll probably have decks theyre happy to let you play with and itll be a lot of fun. if you dont have anyone to play with and you dont want to find people to play with you my recommendation is to sign up for mtg arena where you can matchmake for draft formats, standard, and historic brawl; unfortunately its a profit app run by wotc so you dont have every card to play with and you have to earn enough ingame currency to draft but its still a good environment that plenty of people love. otherwise my advice is just to build some decks! i have probably over 25 commander decks now that ive just been building nonstop since i picked up the format 6 or so months ago. its incredibly satisfying and i promise youll get the hang of it quick :)

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yveltalreal · 10 months ago

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for both: how do you feel about family

Yveltal: It's all I know, isn't it? Ever since the beginning, it was Xerneas, Me, and Zygarde. Of course, there was a beginning before that. There were other legends before that, but I Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina... they aren't siblings. They existed long before us. Same with Arceus. Especially true for Arceus. I need to have family because if I don't have one, if someone cannot look at me and go "That's Yveltal, they're like family to me" then what am I? What am I except the hurt? I need to be the love as well, don't I? I love them both. I love them a lot, and I love the others too. Maybe it was a mistake to love them like friends and children, rather than axes and hammers. To treat them as family rather than tools. Who knows. I am nothing without them. I miss them. I miss Zygarde, even if they hurt us. Maple: i think its complicated. i love my parents. they arent the best. they sucked. they were busy. but i love them. they learned. theyre trying better. they love me. its whatever. my mom especially though. i remember talking to her. she didnt want to be him. she didnt want to be her either, so she ran. she thought that if she wasnt there maybe her love wouldnt be so strong that it hurt. thats what she told me. word for word. i get it. i love a lot too. it took her a lot longer. it took her so much longer to not be afraid. she was always afraid that if she looked at me too hard that id snap. that her hands werent made for holding a child. she didnt want me. she didnt treat me like she wanted me. i mean she wasnt cruel but she just wasnt there. it took almost losing her to realize everything. for her to be there. i love her. i love her a lot. i love them all. but i dont know. sometimes at night, i wonder if they really do care, or if its the bare minimum. i wonder how long that would have gone on, a child alone in a house filled with pokemon until the end of time if grandma didnt find us.

and my brother. i love my new brother. im glad hes never going to experiance what i did. but hes so small and scared. just like my mother. but unlike her i am built for hurting. a whole body staying alive because of the stolen life of others. hes so small. hes so fragile. when i look at him i know what my mom felt and i know she felt it worse. its fine. im not his parent. im his sibling and by arc am i going to be a good one.

and outside of them. outside of blood. where does it begin and end. aspen and jaime? im married to them. we're legally family. and i love them like that. and tori shes my sister and law now but she was kinda like family too. and estelle. family friends is just family to my family, sometimes, and shes a family friend. my grandma wants her to call her grandma as well. shes like a cousin. even if i cant remember when we knew eachother when we were little well i remember knowing her now. at least a little. tami is like my mom, even if shes an absol. same with most of my moms pokemon actually. one of the few things i can remember as a kid is them all gathering around as solar taught them how a first aid kit worked. it was so interesting watching a beeheeyem try to explain things to the others even if i couldnt understand that the bad scrape i had stopped hurting. and pickle. shes been here forever. well not forever. but shes been with me for like over 10 years. what is she? a sister? idk. shes my partner. shes my starter. and heph is also kinda like family even if ive had her for less than a year and theres dash and theres bibi and glacier and little and. storm. im rambling. i love them. theyre family too. i love them a lot.

anyways family is a choice, but sometimes youre obligated to make a certain choice, i think.

#pkmn irl #pokeblr #from m #ask game

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narrator-kun · 11 months ago

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ok wait cus i made a post earlier abt ppl misunderstanding binghe and i jus wanna explain that a bit because ive recently been seeing these just god awful takes on him and his character so.

for starters i wanna talk about the "binghe is a manipulator who forces sqq to (fill in the blank)" and usually they mean this with the crying and call it emotional manipulation right shen qingqiu ???????? literally is okay with and likes it, the freak that he is ????????? (meant affectionately ofc) he regularly points out how unrealistic binghe's crying is and how soon the tears dry once he gives in to whatever request, (because he is aware of and encourages the behavior!!) and then still is like "hes so cute omg" i cannot for the life of me understand how people call their weird roleplay "manipulation" ok next point is the claim that "lbh sa'd sqq in maigu ridge" this one is especially annoying not only because it's not true, but because if anything it was the other way around. before i explain that stance im jus gonna say maigu ridge Was Not an SA Scene and while neither party was especially enthusiastic, to say the least, it was not straight up r@p3 (also my apologies for the heavy-handed censoring, im not too sure how to go about discussing this fghjjfsdhjfs) luo binghe is super fuckin unconscious. of everything. and theres like nothing else to say i don't- how would he force sqq into something while Unconscious !??!?!?! sqq is the one who realizes the "solution" and, essentially, puts himself on an unconcious binghe. was there force at play there ! yes, from the system, and that's it. considering that you could say that they were both kind of assaulted? since they were forced into a situation that neither of them really consented to- but even/especially then, binghe couldn't even do much cus he was going insane.

ok theres more just. gimme a minute.

#° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ narration ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °#txt post #AAAAA screams

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khodorkovskaya · 2 years ago

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05.01.23

my parents are coming to my place tonight and im gonna surprise them with a three course fancy dinner! 😈 i love surprising people with gifts and nice things. it's the same feeling of mischief you would get if you were planning to prank someone but with better consequences. ive been chuckling to myself throughout the day like "heheheh they don't know what awaits them! mwahaha!"

i got two avocados on sale today and i have celery and left over lumpfish caviar. so for starters im gonna make some kind of fancy toasts i think. for the main dish im gonna make stir fried noodles with beef and vegetables bc my stepdad complains about not ever eating enough vegetables so he's gonna be v happy. i even bought wood ear mushrooms, his favourite! ahhh i just can't wait too see the look on his face when he's gonna see it! and for desert i got us strawberry swiss roll, my mum's gonna love it! im so excited!!!

anyway, isolating myself has been v fulfilling so far. ive been super burned out after the past couple of months. i have so many unopened messages on whatsapp and instagram and ive been ignoring all of my friends bc im just so tired... the only people i talk to are my bestie from france (who's taking a break from social media so i send her emails), my cousin and occasionally my zurich friend over messages and my parents irl. it's made me realise that the last time that i was alone with my own thoughts was when i was like what 13? enough of touching grass! i need to be alone and self reflect! bc all this time i was just so distracted by everything and everyone. and i really needed to stop letting things just happen to me and take a step back and think. and now is the perfect time to do that bc im working from home (and next month im gonna be working at the shop), i don't have to worry about B's needs and i don't have uni until mid february.

so i was thinking about why some people are obsessive and some aren't. maybe it has something to do with morals and values again. for example my london bestie has such a strong moral compass, i don't think ive ever met anyone else like that. ever since we were kids she'd always say things like "you don't do that" or "that's not how it's supposed to be". and ive always wondered how she knew these things. id pretend to be like her and also say "you don't do that" and pretend to be outraged at certain people's behaviours, but id never understand the why of any of it. she on the other hand always instinctively knew what was right and wrong, what should be done and what you "don't do". and i think that's why she fits in so well anywhere she goes. that's why she feels comfortable at her office job and can make friends. because it's what "you do". but i always feel like i need an explanation. and if im not given one then i do the things you're supposed to do but don't see any meaning in them and become unhappy.

it reminded me of how whenever we'd go for walks with B my mum and my bestie would often shake their heads in disapproval bc it's something "you don't do". my mum would often say "you can't just drop what you're doing and run to see him, you should value yourself". and i never understood what it meant. in my head it would be clear: B asks me to go for a walk and im not particularly busy and i enjoy walks with him => i say yes and join him.

this really stood out to me when we had a falling out with nik. we were in the middle of an argument in our groupchat and my bestie said something along the lines of "you don't do that" to him and he replied with "ok, i know you know what's right and what's wrong. it's just that in my mind, there's also what's logical and what's not.". and yeah, screw nik, but i think this message really shows the way people function. some instinctively know what's right and what's wrong, what you should and shouldn't do. and some need an explanation.

and back to the topic of obsession, my bestie is a very balanced person. she just instinctively knows things and with this knowledge she's never been drawn into any extremes. she's never been a hardcore die-hard fan of anything, she's never liked anything to the point of obsession. i, on the other hand, have been through i don't know how many obsessive phases. i always need to have a favourite thing in every single category of things. my notes app consists of endless lists of my favourite things: top 5 favourite foods (do i like chocolate better than cheese??), top 10 friends, list of my favourite family members etc etc. every single thing i engage with needs to be ranked and i can't just be chill about anything. i need to be consumed by what i consume, otherwise i don't feel it. and that includes love. i didn't just like B, i was obsessed. i was convinced that it was written in the stars, that every little coincidence we had was so much more than it was. id look at him and my head would start spinning.

maybe it's because some people are born empty and some are born full (born or brought up idk). ive always felt like an empty vessel that life just flows through. ive never had thoughts of my own or ideas i came up with by myself and didn't just steal from a book or a youtube video or while trying to act like someone else. and maybe that's why i become obsessed and feel the need to fill my natural emptiness with things i interact with. and others like my bestie, who are full with a natural understanding of life, don't have that much empty space in them to fill.

anyway, im finally in the process of developing thoughts of my own and trying to find my values. hopefully one day i'll be able to say "you don't do that" and really mean it and understand it. and make more valuable friends. and become a complete person.

#january

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muutosarchive · 2 years ago

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𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝: ❝ 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. ❞ 𝐀𝐳𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚 (@𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬)

the ministry as they all knew it, has been flipped on its head. from the final gig named death, till this very moment -- & beyond. for copia has ascended, & when dear old papa nihil died he finally found himself anointed. born again as papa emeritus iv. he had to play nice just a little while longer, as his wounds continued to fester. those final years as cardinal seeming like nothing, in comparison to a lifetime of being pushed around. abused, & stepped on. bullied, & berated. yet standing on stage in those robes for the first time awakened something in him. something that had always been dormant, inside of him. the last piece of his puzzle laid into the empty slot. & now, not even imperator can stop him. he holds the ultimate authority, after all. akin to a child who had been given the keys to a great castle. a man who believes that everyone must now pay for every injustice he’s suffered in his long life. truly the squire of gothos. with the irrelevant emeritus brothers long dead, & the third a prisoner in the dungeons of both his mind & the ministry... well, he couldn’t have the old ghoul running about now -- could he? though, despite having routinely slaughtered any misbehaving monsters... well, the mercury ghoul was a different story. yes... he has knowledge. & the... heh... the idea that he could torture the mind of another with the pain of one? now, that was simply too good to pass up. he liked using the two of them as prime examples of what awaits those who oppose his reign. an end to the succession making him the ultimate ruler of the church. a replacement only necessary once he goes the way of dear ol’ papa. the death of whom also allows him to treat his remaining boy as he wishes. sometimes he even repaints his face personally, so that he could haunt the halls. a mere shell of his old self. beloved & boisterous.

copia’s tricycle is placed just inside the threshold. gloved hands raising a bit at his sides, with palms up. his ankles crossed in a slow step forth. a small squeak coming from his shoulder as well, now that he takes a few steps forward. his lithe, petite body is wrapped in the signature black suit. you know -- the one with the coattails, that is adorned with red & silver embellishments. he’s looking down the length of his long nose, now that his chin has been heightened. brows narrowed softly, yet... there’s a little smile resting on two toned lips. “-- of course.” far hand rises over his chest, to allow the rat on his shoulder a pathway to his palm. quickly transferring it, to the other. “there’s eh - a lot of things i’m not telling you, you know. it’s the - nature of the job, really.” no names. not here. the ghoul on house arrest, more-less. he had no use for him in squalor & his ministry no place for prisoners. except two, of course. the rest (few & far between, as of late)... well, they’re made examples of. copia shrugs. his other hand gesturing vaguely, before two fingers begin gently stroking the brown fur of his fond, plump friend. “but, you eh? -- you really have nothing to worry about. as long as he’s still alive & shit, right?” his foot crosses over his ankle, leg bent as the toe of his shoe twists into the flooring. “which of course, you already know. so, i mean.. i know you can, ehh - feel him, up there.” his fingers raise to his temple & wiggle about, for good measure. returning to what they were doing a moment ago.

@vileincarnations / / angst starters: jealousy

#vileincarnations #papa emeritus iv * / in character #papa emeritus iv 002 * / alternate universe #misc * / answered #welp here we goooo #*sweats profusely*

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annisthree · 2 years ago

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Chapter XI: We stand together

previous chapter // series masterlist

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~7k

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, alcohol use

Chapter summary: Back at the base, Marla is recovering after being held prisoner, and a new chapter in the Rebellion's history is about to begin.

A/N: This is it. I can't believe it.

If you had told me half a year ago that I would be back to writing after more than ten years, I would have never believed it. It's been such a fantastic journey, and I'm so happy to be doing this again.

Once again, thank you all for the amazing, AMAZING support. I was honestly surprised that anyone even read it, but seeing the continuous outpour of kind words was insane. I mean it.

Now, for the future: there's definitely another part coming, but I need a bit of a break to figure out the details. And maybe write a short drabble or two before I jump into something longer again. I'm guessing I should be back with the second part sometime in January, but it's hard to say.

Again: I LOVE YOU all. Writing this has brought me so much joy; it's surreal.

(Oh, and remember when I said that the last chapter was the longest one? Well, seems like I lied.)

Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

'Captain Andor. Your presence has been urgently requested in the med bay.'

Cassian rubbed his eyes , looking at the medical droid that had woken him up in the middle of the night. The intensity of the last mission was still weighing on him, and he was hoping to finally get some sleep in his warm, comfortable bed on the base.

Clearly, today was not the day.

'Why?' he practically moaned, deciding he didn't have to uphold his highest professional standards for a medical droid. To accentuate this decision, he let out a long, dramatic yawn.

'It's Lieutenant Reid. She's-'

Cassian felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on his head. Of course it's about Marla, idiot. Why else would you be needed in the med bay? And if they're requesting your presence, does that mean that something is-

'Is she all right?'

'Oh, she is all right. Visibly regaining her strength. The problem isn't her well-being; it's the well-being of our medical personnel. Sir.'

Cassian was amazed at how quickly he was circulating through different emotions, 'Could you... could you elaborate?'

'You might be aware of the doctor's recommendation to have her receive IV therapy to aid the loss of electrolytes stemming from dehydration. Well, it wasn't a problem when she was under anaesthesia, but as soon as she woke up, she began... protesting . Quite emphatically. She is currently refusing to be subjected to further treatment, and her refusal is manifested in a rather forceful way. I was sent to find a mediator.'

The droid has finished the report and tilted its mechanical head to the left, awaiting further orders. Only now did Cassian realise that the droid was in somewhat worse shape than it was standard. Sure, most of their droids had some sort of issues, most were patched up with different scratch parts, but this one looked... beaten up. For starters, one of its arms was detached and held in the droid's only remaining hand. There also seemed to be a noticeable dent in its core area.

Cassian rolled his eyes, returning to his default state of tiredness.

'Why me?'

'I have already spoken with the rest of your crew, captain, but they all said you are the only person capable of negotiating with the lieutenant. Sir.'

Somehow, he really doubted that. Still, he was her superior (a fact he should probably remember more often, he noted), so he was responsible for keeping her in check. Or at least attempting to do so.

'Great. Lead the way.'

The droid emitted a series of beeps, then whirled around in place and began energetically stomping forward, occasionally waving its detached arm in the air.

There were so many women on the base, Cassian's sleepy subconsciousness noted. So many beautiful, smart, emotionally stable women.

Why did he always get himself into such a mess?

The corridors of the ancient Massasi temple were almost empty at that hour, apart from a couple of pilots spilling out of the hangar bay and towards the sleeping quarters at regular intervals. Overall, however, the base had gained some improvements over those couple of weeks when they were gone - the electricity had clearly been extended everywhere, which meant they finally didn't have to rely on their glowsticks not to end up flattened against a stone wall. There was also a faint hint of music somewhere far away - was it the hangar bay or the mess hall?

As they walked towards the med bay, Cassian realised the reappearance of that familiar nervous energy humming through his body. He hadn't seen Marla since they arrived on base - she was immediately snatched by a team of medics, together with the rest of the prisoners, and transported to the med bay. He went in to check on her right after the mission debrief, but he was informed that they administered more anaesthetics and declared they would keep her asleep for a couple of days to help her regenerate. It also made it easier to take care of her multiple bone fractures and all the smaller injuries that required attention.

He would never admit it, but he was relieved to have a couple of days for himself. Not that he was tired of Marla; far from it, he was, in fact, still very much affected by her imprisonment, and he would be lying if he said he didn't miss her presence. There were many moments when he walked right up the med bay door, only to turn around with resignation at the last moment.

It was just... easier this way. They still never addressed what happened that night before the attack, and then the only other interaction he had with her was right after her rescue - and talking about their feelings wasn't exactly very high on their agenda at that moment,

But sooner or later, they would have to talk about it and agree on some sort of strategy. And for the first time in his military career, Cassian had no idea what strategy would work best.

The past couple of days had been a blur. Marla remembered a bit from their journey back to the base - the memory of the rescue itself had been a bit hazy, but then she remembered waking up in her quarters on the ship. Luckily, someone had left a night light on - whether that was a deliberate attempt to make her feel safer or not, it definitely helped her immediately recognise where she was. Or, more specifically, where she wasn't. And that alone made her feel a thousand times better, even if she was still hurting in every possible manner.

Her first instinct then had been to go to the cockpit. She had to pass a number of heavily wounded people on her way and had to try very hard not to look at that one man who was having his malfunctioning cybernetic prosthetic re-amputated - but once she made it, she could finally let out a breath of relief. She was home. She knew it because she was on her ship, because she could see the stars outside of the viewport, and because Cassian was there.

She must have fallen asleep in the pilot chair because the next thing she remembered was getting out of the ship, supported by someone she didn't recognise. As soon as they landed, they got swarmed by medics, nurses, and people who had nothing to do with medicine but were recruited to help. Someone was coordinating the efforts - they must have made a list of the most injured on their way back because it was surprisingly organised. At one point, someone approached her with a stretcher, but she just let out a short laugh and began limping her way inside the base.

Cassian caught up with her in no time; of course he did. And just as sure as the sound of his footsteps and his arm reaching out to support her, she felt the familiar warmth spreading over her entire body, in a way that was both beautiful and terrifying.

But she didn't dare say anything, and neither did he, and once they got to the med bay, there were so many people bustling about, so many med droids pushing her towards an empty bed, so many sounds and people and eyes, and soon enough he slipped away and disappeared. Moments later, she felt a dull stab of a needle in her forearm, and before she could react (somehow, she wasn't thrilled about needles, not after her last encounter with them), she fell asleep on the squeaky hospital bed.

The next few days were swathed in a thick fog of blurry awakenings and immediate returns to sleep. She would only regain consciousness for long enough to open her eyes and get a very vague understanding of where she was and why, before a med droid would roll over in her direction, fiddle with something above her head, and suddenly she would be out again.

And that suited her very well, because as soon as she realised she was in a med bay, as soon as she saw the medical equipment, and the hospital beds, and the people in white scrubs that looked too much like lab coats - there was always a cold wave of irrational panic creeping in from the back of her head. The place looked nothing like the lab in that Imperial research facility - it was too busy, too colourful, and too warm . Still, she couldn't help but check for restraints every time she woke up.

The one time she stayed awake for a bit longer, she had just begun registering her surroundings again when a med droid appeared out of nowhere and unceremoniously grabbed her forearm, clearly attempting to hook her up to some sort of an IV. Still hazy from the days spent under anaesthesia, she jumped up and unthinkingly pushed the droid away. A bit too forcefully, perhaps, seeing how the surprised helper ended up crashing into the next bed with a loud thump.

'Lieutenant Reid. Good to see you're awake. You seem to be doing much better, but we're gonna need to keep you with us for just a couple more days to help you regain all the strength.'

The person talking turned out to be a young man with a calm, almost apologetic smile and a datapad in one hand.

'I'm feeling fine. I don't need to stay here. And I definitely don't need whatever this little fella was trying to give me.'

'The med droid,' the man started, eyeing the battered droid that was still knocked down a couple of metres from Marla's bed, 'is going to administer the IV fluids. They will help you feel...'

'Like hell he is,' she protested loudly, sitting up on her bed and gathering the strength to stand up. The sudden change of position made her see stars for a moment, but she was determined not to let it show.

'Lieutenant, I'm gonna have to ask you to lay down. I promise this will help.'

Marla snorted cynically, sending the man a hateful look. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and began standing up.

'Lieutenant-' the man reached out a hand in her direction, and that was definitely his mistake. Grabbing the first thing she spotted, which happened to be a durasteel IV stand, Marla moved to a defensive position.

'I don't think so,' she seethed. It crossed her mind how ridiculous she must have looked, still in her dirty and ripped clothes, with bacta patches around her hand and ribs, swinging an IV stand with manic desperation in her eyes. Still, she was not going to let them get near her. She was fine, for fuck's sake.

The doctor looked tired as he took a step back.

'Look, if I were to fight every patient who thinks they know better, I would be doing nothing else all day. You are free to do whatever you want, but I must inform you it is my duty to report any incidents to the command.'

'Great. I'm sure they will be delighted to see my name again. Thanks for the heads up, buddy.'

She lowered the metal rod and started towards the exit, only to have her way barred at the last moment.

'Cassian. Hi.'

'Lieutenant Reid. I was asked to escort you back to your hospital bed.'

If she was happy to see him for a split second, all of that evaporated immediately at the sound of his words.

'Well, I'm sorry you have been troubled for nothing. I'm fine, and I'm leaving. Now, if you excuse me...'

She took a step forward and almost bumped into his chest. He was clearly not moving anywhere.

'Don't think for a second that I wouldn't fight you, captain .'

She was staring him down with all the defiance and intensity her tired body could muster. They were silent for a while, each waiting for the other one to stand down.

Finally, Cassian sighed and looked over her shoulder towards the doctor.

'Doctor. What's her status?'

'I told you I'm-'

'She is recovering quickly, but she needs to keep resting for another couple of days. I have also prescribed a set of tonics to combat the side effects of dehydration.'

'Noted. Can this be administered in her quarters?'

The doctor paused for a moment, visibly undecided.

'I mean- technically. But she would need to stay in bed-'

'For fuck's sake, I'm right here.'

'Got it,' Cassian was visibly set on ignoring her input. 'I'll have her set up in her quarters. You can send over one of the droids in ten minutes. I'll see to it that she receives her treatment.'

'You will do no such-'

'Do you want to stay here?' he retorted with irritation evident in his voice, finally acknowledging her existence. She rolled her eyes but stayed silent. 'Good. Let's go.'

Cassian was visibly tired and even more visibly annoyed, but there was a hint of gentleness in his touch as he grabbed her by the arm to support her. Marla wanted to be mad, she wanted to tell him off for trying to order her around, but the mixture of exhaustion and a slight surprise at the contact with his warm hand subdued her frustration just enough to have her keep her mouth shut for the rest of the way.

'I think I liked you more when you were unconscious,' Cassian murmured gravely, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly when she looked at him. Marla realised she hadn't seen him smile in a longest time.

Fine, she would take that stupid IV.

Quite soon, Marla realised that she liked herself more when she was unconscious, too. It prevented her from thinking about all those things that were suddenly much scarier than all of the Empire combined.

She had been happy to see Cassian in that Imperial facility, his face being the first real thing to have emerged out of the cold and damp darkness in days. She had been happy to see him in the cockpit of their ship on the way back to the base, him and his tired, concerned face that was stained with someone's blood. And she had been happy (although she would never admit it) to see him in the med bay, where his presence once again reassured her that she was home , and those constantly beeping monitors and needles and scalpels were there to help people, not to experiment on them.

She was happy to see him, she really was, but that happiness was tainted with the memory of how his skin had felt under her fingertips and the petrifying adoration in his eyes that was both the most treasured accolade and a fatal curse, or a poison, one that would slowly weaken them both over time.

But how does one turn their eyes on an exploding star, when all the colours dance their final dance, when the destruction of something so beautiful and life-affirming evokes this unstoppable fascination and yearning, yearning to become part of the luminous spectacle, even if getting closer means your ship burns and melts and joins the grim cluster of cosmic debris.

And so she gave in and told herself - yet again - she would be able to pull up at the last minute, she would avoid being trapped in the gravitational field, she would just look a little bit longer.

Cassian walked her back to her room and helped her take off the bacta patches she had around her ribs - keeping all the professional distance a captain should. It was funny to see him like this, so careful not to let his fingers linger for too long on her skin, so intent on being as mechanical and impersonal as possible. As if he hadn't already seen all of her, both physically and emotionally.

He waited patiently as she took a shower, her first one in a week. Marla knew he must have noticed how the door to her refresher had been left slightly ajar, just enough to let the steam out, but apparently not enough for him to read it as an invitation. Or maybe he did, but decided now was the time to begin acting all gentlemanly.

Or maybe he was no longer interested, now that her body was covered in fresh scars and his hands had already claimed every square centimetre of her skin. What was there left to explore, what was there to want, when he had already taken everything she could give him and more?

He was still waiting in her room when she finished the shower, and looked as casual as one could when she circled around the room in an oversized t-shirt that was drowning her in a way that couldn't possibly have been doing her body any favour.

After a while, she located a hairbrush and began combing through her dripping wet hair.

'How long exactly are you planning to act as my security guard? You must have realised by now that you can just rig the door panel if you really want to make sure I don't escape.'

'Crossed my mind,' he said flatly, watching her struggle to braid her hair with one good hand. 'May I?'

Marla had no idea what invisible force was looking over her that day, but somehow she managed not to drop the hairbrush at the last moment. And not to suffocate from forgetting how to breathe.

The way he had said it made it sound like the most natural thing in the world, so logical - she was injured, doing one's hair with one hand was challenging, he had two good hands ( and a very skilful set of fingers) - of course, it was only natural to offer help. She was sure she would have done the same for anyone else, for Aevie, for that Mandalorian girl who supposedly helped get her out of prison, even for Salvatore, if there had been anything left on his head to braid.

And yet she was absolutely dissolving at the sound of these words, the same ones she'd heard before; only then they had been an interlude to something she would be wise not to think about at that moment.

Somehow though, he looked as casual as one could. Stupid spy with his stupid poker face.

'Yeah. Thanks. They said I'm gonna need to wear the cast for a couple more days,' she mumbled somewhat apologetically.

He crossed the room to reach her, and suddenly it felt like the cruellest déjà vu. He was carefully running his fingers through her wet hair, and she was staring right into the core of a burning sun, praying for a quick and painless death.

The closeness, the gentle touch, the barely registerable huff of his breath on her shoulder - it was so much, almost too much, but it also felt so good. She shut her eyes tightly as he continued down the length of her hair, trying to focus on anything else than the opportunity she had within her grasp. Seconds turned into minutes, and she wasn't sure anymore when was the last time she breathed.

'Hey,' he said quietly, placing one hand on her shoulder, and she realised he had finished quite a while ago, and she was still there, struggling to breathe and tense to the limits. 'You know you're safe here, right?'

How could he even... Why? Is it because she was so tense? Did he think she was afraid-

And just like that, all the repressed pain, uncertainty and fear that she tried so hard not to let in when she was in that cell by herself - all of that somehow came back in that moment, triggered by the softness and concern behind that one question. He didn't deserve to think he was anything less than the only thing that kept her sane through those long, scary nights when her only companions were the screams of tortured prisoners and a throbbing pain in her skull. He must know the only way she had survived was by detaching herself from everything that was happening, and taking her mind to the one place where they wouldn't ever find her: in her imagination, she was on her ship, sitting in the pilot seat, and staring in the stars outside of the viewport, and Cassian was always there with her, sitting right next to her, and he was telling her she would be all right over and over again until his voice in her head drowned out even the loudest of screams.

He deserved to know these things. But then, how do you tell someone all that and not make it sound like a promise? She couldn't afford to make any promises, just as he couldn't afford to accept any. They were at war, and the Rebellion always had to come first. They had no right no make any promises. Hell, they had no right to have any other feelings apart from those directed at the Empire and the Rebellion.

She wanted nothing else than to tell him how much it meant to be around him, to have him care for her, to have that one treasured memory of how his lips felt on hers.

But she also wanted to do the right thing , and so she did the exact opposite of what her body was telling her to do and took a large step forward to build some distance between them. When she then turned around to face him, she could see the concern in his eyes, and she hated herself for the cold and casual tone she somehow managed to muster.

'Yeah. I know.'

There was no way in hell he believed that, and he was now probably more worried than ever. He seemed to think that she was afraid of him, that it was somehow his fault, and she wanted to grab her blaster and shoot her stupid useless heart for not letting her tell him how wrong he got it.

Of all the things she wanted to tell him, none sounded good enough - or safe enough.

So instead, she gritted her teeth and sent him a fake smile.

'I should be going,' he muttered flatly after a moment. 'The med droid will be here any minute. Just stay in bed for as long as they tell you, okay?'

His voice was seemingly emotionless, but there was an undertone of defeat, and she wanted to yell at him, tell him that he was the only source of warmth in her frozen body - but the door was already closing behind him, and all she could do was do bite down on her lip and try not to scream.

She had planned to follow the doctor's orders; she really had. But then she spent two days without leaving her room, having only a med droid (who checked on her several times a day and sometimes delivered new tonics or bacta patches) as a thought partner, because after their last meeting Cassian had decided to make himself scarce. She didn't blame him; in fact, as painful as it was, she also knew it was necessary and needed to help them recover from that brief moment of blindness, of madness, of selfishness, or whatever the fuck that was.

Still, sitting there by herself inevitably led her to thinking , and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

So, she did the only thing she could think of, something as pathetically Marla as possible - she sneaked out and went to check on that makeshift cantina they had put together with the rest of the crew before leaving for Scen.

The last time she was there, it was just their crew and a bunch of crates with alcohol they had borrowed from an Imperial restaurant on one of their previous runs. Entering the place again, she didn't expect to see it bustling with activity. There were at least twenty people inside, they had constructed something that resembled an actual bar counter, and someone even spray-painted the Rebel sign and the words "The Drunken Bantha" on the wall.

'Marla!' she heard a friendly voice, and soon she spotted a familiar face sending her a warm smile, 'Wait, aren't you supposed to be on bedrest?' Zafe asked, his loud and cheerful voice clearly indicating he'd already had a couple of drinks.

'Maybe,' she gave him a wide grin and sat by the table. Someone handed her a bottle of something unidentified and pungent. 'Not much of a secret hideout anymore, huh?'

'Yeah, turns out trying to keep a secret on a base filled with thieves and scoundrels isn't really that easy. Especially if that secret involves alcohol. This is nothing, though - you should have seen this place yesterday when everyone was still here...'

'Sounds like I'm missing out on some action. Whose ass are we kicking this time?'

'Not really,' Zafe made a face. 'It's some sort of a show of force. Someone's making some important speech on the holo net, and we were asked to send ships to show our support. Supposedly, we're an Alliance now.'

'Alliance, huh?'

'Yeah. Apparently, we weren't the only ones who managed to successfully enlist a bunch of local rebels. Everyone's been busy negotiating and agreeing on things and, well, allying . You've met the Phoenix squadron - that's just a part of it; we will now be becoming a central hub for all Rebel activity. All sorts of important people coming to our little moon.'

'Well, that's what we wanted. If it means we can finally do some actual fighting instead of sneaking around, then I'll drink to that.'

They took a moment to clink their bottles, Zafe leaning back in his chair ( where the hell did they get chairs? ).

'Don't get me wrong, I'm all for having the numbers. It's just... I'd prefer these numbers not stationed in my formerly single quarters. You know, I've already grown used to not waking up to someone's snoring.'

'Wait. They are bunking us up again?'

'Oh, right, you wouldn't have heard. That's probably because a certain captain has fought the command to let you keep a single room until you are no longer on bedrest. But there's already a bunk waiting for you, riiiight above mine,' he winked, grinning widely.

Marla tried her best not to think about Cassian defending her single room in front of the command, but it was too late, and the redness had already crept onto her cheeks. Luckily, no one seemed to have been paying attention to her. Besides, she could easily justify the blushing with the alcohol.

Plus, she was sure Cassian would have done it for anyone. Nothing special.

'Why is it that I always end up bunked up with you, sergeant Caius? Have I not suffered enough?'

'Hey, you should be thanking me. You could have ended up with a bunch of strangers.'

'Maker,' she sighed dramatically, 'is there any way I can sign up to be moved back to that Imperial prison? At least they gave me a single cell...'

'Sorry, Lieutenant. Strangely enough, it kinda exploded after we had left,' he said with a proud grin, and Marla couldn't help but return the smile. She was teasing him, but in all reality, it actually wasn't that terrible of a solution. She had spent so many years sharing her quarters with other people, she could probably tolerate it a while longer.

'Okay. Who else is in our lucky bunch?'

'Aevie and Sal are on the other side of the room; there are also a couple of random folks from that group from Scen, don't really know them. But I guess we will get to know them, very intimately and very soon.' Zafe delivered with a smirk.

Marla groaned loudly, but then her brain registered one name missing from that list. Zafe was quick to read her. 'The command still has single rooms. Anyone with the rank of a captain and above, to be specific,' He winked at her knowingly.

'No way. No. Fucking. Way. Not fair,' In reality, she was praising the Maker. The last thing she needed was bumping into half-naked Cassian on her way to the bed. Or better yet, bumping into someone rolling out of Cassian's bunk in the morning.

Stars.

Yes, she could take roommates, as long as Cassian wasn't one of them.

Marla spent some time catching up with Zafe, but eventually, he stood up and stumbled drunkenly towards the exit, advising her to do the same. And, indeed, every muscle in her body was telling her she should do just that - she was feeling much better than days ago, but she was still weakened, and the alcohol definitely didn't help with regaining strength.

But it was so nice to finally not be confined to four naked walls, to see people, hear them chatter and laugh. And as much as her body would probably benefit from staying in bed, her soul was devouring all the stimuli around her and healing with every second of her being around others.

So she let her legs carry her forward, through the dimly lit corridors, towards the hangar bay, where the familiar smell of jet fuel tingled her nostrils.

She could indeed see more ships than when they had left for Scen, and if Zafe's account was correct, there were even more, currently cruising through hyperspace to show up in support of the new Rebel Alliance. She was rather happy no one had asked her to be part of that mission - she was never particularly good with grand speeches and theatrical gestures. But then again, she imagined the view of hundreds of ships frozen motionlessly in space must have been quite a sight. An unsung song of hope. An alliance, at last.

She took a long swig from her bottle and started towards the outer landing pad. She was painfully aware of how slowly she was walking and how unsteady her steps were, but it felt too good to give up.

As soon as she was outside and felt the warm air caressing her skin, she realised what a luxury it was not to shiver from cold, not to see your own breath and not to have your fingers freezing off within seconds of stepping outside. Even with all its humidity, Yavin IV always had a calming effect on her. It was so reassuring to see the same stars shining brightly in the sky, casting a delicate, ethereal light over the dense forest and the ancient structures scattered around the area.

Marla took a moment to appreciate the view, leaning over a supply crate left outside. In her quiet awe, she almost didn't hear the footsteps approaching from the base.

'I wish I could say I was surprised,' Cassian's voice reached her from behind.

She wasn't ready to face him, damn it. Especially not in these circumstances, slightly intoxicated and looking at the stars. Way too poetic and cliche. Way too many scenarios in which this could go wrong.

She took another long sip from the bottle and decided not to turn around, instead fixing her gaze somewhere beyond the vastness of the jungle.

'Are you saying I'm boring?' she retorted, trying to hide the slight hint of panic in her voice.

'I wouldn't dare,' he said with a slight chuckle. She loved the lightness in his voice. Somehow, it transported her back to her early days with the Rebellion, when the cause and the Empire were her only problems. Seemed like a lifetime ago.

'The speech is about to start. They are gathering in the hangar bay.'

Oh, right, the speech. As much as Marla disliked politics, she had to admit she was rather curious; the whole base seemed to be buzzing with anticipation.

She decided to turn around towards the base - and towards Cassian. The light from Yavin's three other moons spilt over his features, casting a warm glow over his face and making his eyes look almost silver.

Somehow, she felt a bit more woozy again. Damn jet juice. She should have known better than to trust Zafe's choice of drink.

'Yeah, let's go inside,' she said, a bit more weakly than she would have wanted to.

There was that investigative look on his face again that she knew so well, and for a moment, she had the uncomfortable feeling of being dissected into small components. Worst of all, she understood he could read her like a book - she could see him raise one eyebrow and take a breath to say something, but he stopped himself at the very last second.

Marla did her best to put a brave face on, but her body wasn't still fully cooperative. She was slow and dizzy, and she saw Cassian hesitate and bite back yet another remark. He knew how much she hated being pitied, so he didn't say anything, instead accompanying her in silence, adapting his pace to her limping.

Finally, they made it inside. In the middle of the hangar bay, there was a droid - an old R1 series. At least two dozen people of different ages and races were gathered around, chatting excitedly.

Cassian stopped somewhere at the back - at a distance that would still allow them to see everything but that placed them away from attention. That's what he did best - hiding just out of sight. Getting close, but not close enough.

She saw him stop next to a wall and turn around to wait for her. She hated how pathetically incapable she was at that moment, but he didn't seem to mind - or, at least, was doing a very good job at pretending he didn't. Meanwhile, Marla made a painful realisation that her legs were beginning to have a mind of their own, barely able to sustain her weight anymore - but she was so close, she would lean against the wall soon and rest, just a couple more steps...

Before she could register what was happening, Marla felt Cassian grab her by the arms, and she realised he had caught her at the very last moment, most likely saving her from falling flat on her face.

Good job, Marla. If he wasn't pitying you before, he surely is now.

As she was trying to get her head to stop spinning, she felt him support her weight, help her with those last couple of steps, and then assist her with sitting down against the wall.

'All right?'

Cassian knew her well enough to know he should hide his concern, but she knew him well enough to see through it immediately. And her mind began reflexively defending against that concern - until she looked up and saw his face in front of hers, and suddenly the need to hide behind protective walls evaporated completely.

For the first time since she could remember, she didn't feel the need to prove how tough she was, to prove that she could handle anything bad the world threw at her. It felt strange and new, but also freeing . Like a restrictive garment you were forced to wear that you could now tear off; like screaming after days of silence; like falling asleep in her own bed after a long battle. It was warm and natural. And she'd only ever felt that way around Cassian.

And he was right there, his warm dark eyes telling her he knew , he recognised her and her fear, and yet he was still willing to accept all of it, all of her .

His eyes, Maker, she could drown in them; such a perfect way to die. And they were getting closer, too, and so was the rest of his face as he slowly leaned towards her. And soon enough, she could feel his breath fanning over her face, his lips just centimetres away, hesitantly making their way towards hers, emanating heat and anticipation and-

Suddenly, a loud sound came from the centre of the hangar bay, and they both bolted up in surprise, immediately regaining safe distance and desperately avoiding eye contact. After the longest couple of seconds in her life, Marla saw Cassian move away to her side, sitting down by the wall and fixing his gaze forward, on the blue projection that was now being displayed by the droid.

Right, the speech. Suddenly, Marla couldn't care less - but there it was, anyway.

'This is Senator Mon Mothma.'

Well, thank you, Senator Mon Mothma, for ruining a perfect moment.

'I have been called a traitor for speaking out against a corrupt Galactic Senate. A Senate manipulated by the sinister tactics of the Emperor.'

The woman speaking was wearing official senatorial attire, but her voice had the determination and spark Marla has never heard in any other politician. And there was something in her eyes, too - she had the eyes of a leader, but there was also kindness, compassion and a hint of warmth.

'For too long I have watched the heavy hand of the Empire strangle our liberties, stifling our freedoms in the name of ensuring our safety. No longer!'

Marla couldn't help herself and quickly glanced at Cassian. His eyes were sparking, too, but with a different kind of fire - one that could only burn inside a soul of a man who has seen and done things no high-born Senator would ever even want to imagine.

She felt a sudden need to lift off some of that weight, to offer shelter from the raging fire - but she knew her own scars and burns were running just as deep.

'Despite Imperial threats, despite the Emperor himself, I have no fear as I take new action. For I am not alone. Beginning today, we stand together as allies.'

The Senator's voice was now echoing between the walls, powerful, determined, full of purpose.

So there it was. A Rebel Alliance. They really did it.

'I hereby resign from the Senate to fight for you, not from the distant hall of politics but from the front lines. We will not rest until we bring an end to the Empire until we restore our Republic!'

A wave of excitement ran through the hangar bay. People began chattering, cheering; some were even clapping.

'Are you with me?'

It felt like a battle cry. It felt like an explosion, a lightning bolt, a maelstrom; it felt like all the elements at their most powerful combined together. It felt like hope.

The projection ended, but the people gathered in the hangar bay remained in place. Only now, instead of quiet focus, there was an atmosphere of victory. Someone jumped on top of a crate and started singing something in a language Marla didn't recognise; elsewhere, a group of people initiated something that was a weird mixture of a very uncoordinated dance and a very sincere group hug. Everyone else was just talking; dozens of people chattering simultaneously, in different languages - but you didn't need a protocol droid to figure out the general sentiment.

It was good to have a reason to celebrate, at last. Even if just for that one evening.

Marla was a bit more cautious in her enthusiasm, but she would be lying if she said the triumphant atmosphere hadn't rubbed off on her.

Maybe there is some hope for them after all. For the Galaxy, for the Rebellion, for her.

A wave of warmth began spreading through her body, and she suddenly remembered what the speech had interrupted. But for some inexplicable reason, she no longer felt the awkwardness or shame that had been so overwhelming mere minutes ago. She didn't quite know what it was, but something about that experience, about the shared enthusiasm and about Cassian's warm body next to hers - something about all that made her believe in the impossible for just a short moment. And for that moment, she let herself forget about all of her fear.

And so, freshly stripped of everything that had been weighing down on her before, she rested her head on his shoulder. Slowly, hesitantly, but with a determination known only to those who realise how fleeting this kind of clarity can be.

As her temple made contact with Cassian's shoulder, she heard the slightest hitch in his breath, but he immediately relaxed back again. And then, he tilted his own head to rest against hers, and she could swear she felt his lips gently brush over her hair.

Neither dared to move or say anything, afraid to destroy the sacredness of that moment. They sat quietly, away from the joyous cheering and singing, entangled in a small celebration of their own.

And even if it were just an illusion created by a perfect conjunction of unrelated elements, even if tomorrow she would wake up troubled by the same doubts, and a cruel reality check set them apart again - they would always have this moment to cherish, that moment when they felt unstoppable and fearless and whole again.

Maker, she felt like she could take the whole Empire on by herself. What chance did a Galaxy full of darkness stand against the light she was now carrying in her chest?

'I really hope this works out,' Cassian's quiet voice rang in her ear, the air vibrating and tickling her forehead.

She didn't know if he was talking about the alliance or… something completely different. But it didn't matter. Or maybe it did, but she didn't have to think about it now.

She didn't need certainty, she needed... this. Precisely as it was at that moment. With his head leaning against hers, a gentle buzz in her head and the promise of a galaxy that could hope again.

#cassian andor x original female character #cassian andor #andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x oc #star wars fanfiction #rogue one a star wars story #rogue one fanfiction

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namodareads · 1 year ago

Text

ik this is a gojo fic but TOMODA MY BFF!!!! i really enjoyed the chemistry between him and reader 🥺 they r bffs in my brain. tomoda is funny and im glad he got mc to laugh 😌 and i like that gojo was jealous over it LMAOOOO. him pestering reader but we all know the truth ,':^) and i love that reader thought time passed quickly with tomoda whereas before no one else had been very notable 🥺🥺 and the fact that he wasnt sure abt switching !!!! 😭😭💕

The man gives you a gentle smile and you think that he truly deserves the world— a world you can’t and could never give him.

^ TOMODAAAAAAAAAAA hold my hand.

no but i loved gojo in this too. such a shit starter LMAOOO. reader being unable to help their attraction to him and also kinda hating it LMAO. real. GAAAAAAAAH BUT OK I RLY DID LOVE HIM IN THIS JUST !!! he's so goofy on the outside but the moments where he says 1 thing but means another and when hes teasing reader but also when he becomes a lil more serious 🥹🥹 AAAAAAAAAAAAAA ill be a gojo fucker for u niku. i like that the narration slowed down when it was gojo's turn and we got to see more of his convo w reader :3 AND i think its funny silly that they spent a chunk of it talking abt tomoda LMAOOO

and their convo ending on gojo suggesting hes jealous!!!!!!! RAAAAAAH !!!!!!!!!!!!!! eating him. laughed aloud when he plucked those cards from readers hand, he defs knew theyd come after him LOL. in my mind i like to think there mightve been a few others that were intending to give reader some cards, but then they saw gojo and they decided to choose peace 💀💀💀

but but but but 🥺 reader and gojo talking realistically abt having a non-sorcerer partner... man :( its smth the series doesnt really cover (i think, been a while since ive consumed the source material) but to think abt it and have it laid out!! at an event thats designed to meet someone new!! aaaagh! !!!!!! agony :(

ANF THE ALMOST KISS !!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAA SHAKING HIM BACK AND FORTH!! did i laugh when reader fell into the water? yes. was i in agony(/lh) that they didnt kiss? also yes. BUT AAAA HIM LETTING READER SPLASH HIM AGONY AGONY AGONY !!!! GAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!! im having so many big feelings dont mind me 🥺

When he speaks again, it's louder this time, "Give someone a normal, happy love. It's not like you're completely broken or anything like that."

^ what if i cried. what if i shed a few tears, huh. gojo reassuring reader of that when hes. well. gojo. man. MAAAANNNN. they both can give each other a normal happy love 🥺🥺🥺 GODDDDD AAAAAAAAA gojo holding onto reader 🥺🥺 FOR THE CLOSENESS !!!! THE PINING !! THE !!!! AAAAAAAA i need to know what the look on his face was when he saw reader wearing his blazer . im going to chew on him

hey lonely stranger (won't you meet my eye?) — reader x satoru gojo

notes: yes, hello, here it is, the infamous lonely stranger fic. i mentioned the idea a couple months back to @willowser i thought i'd write it after finishing shine on the sea, but as usual, where gojo is concerned i'm eating my words. title comes from this song. i apologize for me love of weeb music. anyway. i hope you enjoy.

contains: fem!reader (no pronouns, no physical description), typical annoying satoru gojo antics, the faintest hint of possessive/jealous gojo, unresolved romantic tension, allusions to canon typical violence

wc: 6.4k [ao3 link; account required]

There are a lot of places where you’d expect to run into Satoru Gojo.

A match-making party is most definitely not one of them.

First of all, why is he even here? You have no doubt that the world’s strongest sorcerer has much more important things to do than attend a match-making party. Not that he even needs to in the first place. Even without the status and the prestige that his family name brings, his looks alone are more than enough to get people to throw themselves at his feet. That being said, his personality is definitely off-putting enough to make some marriage candidates run the other way. So, who knows, maybe he does need help finding a spouse after all.

You grimace, watching in real time as some of the bolder participants make a beeline toward him, eager to mingle with objectively the most attractive man in the room before the event officially begins. Even from your spot across the hotel ballroom you can see him basking in all the attention. Maybe that’s the real reason why he’s here.

After all, there’s no one who owns the limelight like Satoru Gojo.

Even though it is nothing new to you, there’s something about watching all these people fawn over him that makes you sick to your stomach. You tell yourself it’s because they’re being fooled by him and his offensively handsome face and not because you’re upset that he’s here.

You were actually kind of looking forward to this match-making party, but now you’re annoyed and it's all Gojo’s fault. You’ll have to avoid him as much as you can. It shouldn’t be too hard later on when everyone is free to converse with whoever they want, but before that is the speed dating portion. It’s an unfortunate inevitability that you will have to sit across from Satoru Gojo for two minutes of the hour-long speed-dating session, but maybe you’ll be lucky and maybe he’ll be one of the last, if not the last person for you.

In hindsight, you feel like you should have known better than to hope that luck would have your back when it’s always, always favored Satoru Gojo.

At first, you think it's merciful, sparing you from having to deal with him first. It would have really sucked for you to go through all your speed-dates in a Gojo-induced bad mood. But as he comes closer and closer one two minute interval at a time, you start to wish that you'd started with him first, and just gotten it out of the way.

Despite the threat of Satoru Gojo looming over your head, you do your best to focus on the people who come to your table. Two minutes is not a lot of time at all. Some seem to realize that and try to squeeze as much talking as they can in that amount of time. Some are paralyzed by it; awkwardly floundering for the hundred twenty seconds given to them. There are a couple people that you manage to enjoy a nice, albeit short, conversation with. Despite that, you still find yourself sneaking glances in Gojo's direction, hyper aware of the dwindling number of people sitting between you.

The man sitting before you now, Tasuke Tomoda, you think his name is, leans in toward you and gestures for you to do the same. He's the last person separating you from Gojo and he's been pretty pleasant so far. so you do as he asks and move a little bit closer to him.

"So, uh, I've noticed that you keep looking over there." His voice is barely audible as he inclines his head just slightly in Gojo's direction. “At him.”

You inhale sharply. This guy is the first one who’s noticed, or, at least, the first who's decided to say anything about it. You feel a bit ashamed to have been caught, especially when you thought you’d been discreet.

Just as you’re about to offer an apology, Tomoda adds, “I’m not mad or anything. I mean… he’s quite the looker, isn’t he?”

Before you can stop it, you grimace and Tomoda catches it, his eyes widening in obvious surprise. “You don’t think so?”

You don’t need to think so; you know so— for as long as you have been unfortunate to know him, Satoru Gojo has taken great pleasure in flaunting his good looks whenever possible. You scowl and admit, your voice an annoyed sort of murmur, “His looks are fine, I guess, but his personality…”

You don't know where to begin and you don't know if you should.

Tomoda’s gaze flits toward Gojo and he moves even closer, whispering so quiet that nobody else can hear. “...yeah, he does kinda look like an asshole, doesn’t he?”

You reel backwards, laughing so loud that everyone else can hear. Embarrassment flashes throughout your entire body when you realize that both couples on either side of you have gone completely silent and four pairs of eyes are now on you and Tomoda. Oops. Immediately, the both of you bow your heads in unison to one couple, then the next (with you taking great care to not look at Gojo).

Once their conversations resume, you give Tomoda an apologetic smile. “Sorry ‘bout that."

"It's fine!" Tomoda gives you a good natured sort of chuckle. "I'm just glad to have gotten a laugh out of you."

You blink, confused. "Why?"

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and you think it’s kind of cute. “Well, it’s just that I think—"

You lean in.

"—that you're really—"

The bell signifying to change partners echoes throughout the event hall, startling Tomoda out of whatever he was going to say.

Has it really been two minutes already?

Tomoda starts to rise to switch seats, but he looks conflicted, like he still wants to say his piece.

"Wait," you tell him and you're not sure if it's because you want to delay Gojo's inevitable arrival or because you actually want to know what Tomoda was going to say.

He stops, his mouth half open. Tomoda stares and you see the hesitation swimming in his eyes. It only lasts a second though and his mouth shuts as he makes his decision. He takes a deep breath and—

"Excuse me!"

Your stomach lurches at the sound of the playful voice you know far, far too well. Tomoda looks like his soul is about to leave his body rather than his words. Slowly, reluctantly, you both turn your heads to look at the interloper.

You’d tried not to pay too close attention to Gojo when he’d walked in, but with him practically in your face right now, your eyes can’t seem to help but be drawn in. It feels like he really went all out tonight. His suit fits him perfectly, accentuating his long legs and slender yet built figure. The colors compliment his pale, flawless skin, his snow white hair and his infamous sky blue eyes. Gojo’s entire look is completed with a pair of sunglasses, over which he’s peering down at you and Tomoda.

There’s something about the amused glow in those dumb eyes of his that manages to royally pisses you off. You scowl at him, but he ignores you, his expression unchanging as he directs his attention to Tomoda.

"It's my turn now, you know," Gojo points out and while his tone is friendly enough, both you and Tomoda can clearly hear what Gojo is actually saying.

Leave.

"Right! I'm really sorry about that!" Tomoda exclaims as he basically leaps out of his seat and scrambles over to the next table. His table mate stares— not just at Tomoda, but at you and Gojo as well. You can feel the pair on the other side staring too.

Fucking Gojo.

He is completely and unwholly unbothered as he plops down in the seat opposite you, a self-satisfying smile plastered to his face. Annoyed, you cross your arms over your chest and huff, “Did you really need to cause a scene?”

“Hey, you started it,” Gojo says with a chuckle. “Actually, I think you were so loud that everyone heard.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, throwing your most venomous glare in Gojo’s direction, hoping that, for once in his damn life he listens.

Naturally, he doesn’t.

“So, what’d that guy say that was so funny?” Gojo’s tone is casual, almost nonchalant as he leans in your direction. He reaches up with one hand to adjust his glasses, pulling them down just enough to reveal the shocking blue of his eyes staring you down.

You know he means to disarm you this way, to make you spill, but you manage to hold your ground. “Who knows? That’s between me and him.”

Gojo tilts his head to the side, still smiling as he responds. “Oh? You into that guy?”

“And if I was?” you ask, your words nearly a challenge. In all honesty, you don’t know if you can say if you’re into Tomoda or not. He’s certainly made the biggest impression out of everyone you’ve talked to so far and you wouldn’t be against hitting him up during the free talk section of the event. Who knows? Maybe you just need to talk to him a little more to find out.

“Hate to break it to you, but it’s not going to work out.”

“You don’t know that,” you shoot back, feeling defensive because Gojo doesn’t know. There’s no way he could. His stupid Six Eyes can see a lot of things, but the future is not one of them.

“I do actually,” Gojo responds simply. His voice is even, with none of his characteristic smugness woven in. That being said, you think you catch the meaning in his words and it angers you even more. Just because you’re a sorcerer that doesn’t mean your dating pool needs to be confined to the members of jujutsu society. You know a few sorcerers who have dated, and even married non-sorcerers.

“Wrong! You don’t know anything,” you insist viciously and if you were anywhere else you’d be just about ready to start throwing punches. You’ve never beaten Gojo in a fight (except maybe once, but you don’t count that because you know he threw that fight), but he’s always down to brawl with you.

“I happen to know plenty of things,” Gojo grins at you, pleased and you watch, in real time, as his delight turns devious. “Like I know that you were checkin’ me out earlier.”

Your entire body heats up and you’re not quite sure if it’s from rage or embarrassment. Another eyeful of the smirk on Gojo’s face is enough for you to decide that it must be rage. “I was not.”

“You so were,” Gojo teases, infuriatingly gleeful in his retort. “I totally get it, and it’s completely okay if you want to tell me how sexy I look tonight.”

“Hell no!” you almost yell, ignoring the growing heat in your stomach. Has it been two minutes yet? There’s no way that this clown’s time isn’t up yet. You glance at the big timer the event’s organizers have set up and… you still have half a minute with this fool.

It’s going to be the longest thirty seconds of your goddamn life.

“Come on,” Gojo nudges at you in that playful tone of his, seemingly determined to use every second he has to annoy you. “Don’t you want to tell me?”

“For someone as confident as you claim to be, you sure are desperate for validation,” you dead pan.

He ignores you. “Okay, okay, since you're feeling shy, I'll go ahead and say it: Satoru Gojo is the hottest guy here!"

You think you're going to hurl from all the second hand embarrassment. It's not like it's unnatural for Gojo to be so unashamedly confident but at an event like this you think it's probably a big no-no. "Gojo?"

“Yes?” He sounds chipper, like he thinks you’re going to compliment him after all, but when it comes to Gojo, you live to disappoint.

“Why the hell are you even here?” you ask in exasperation. Gojo has fifteen or so seconds left but you figure you might as well get something out of this exchange with him, “I doubt someone like you has a need to come to things like this, so why?”

A surprised look flashes across Gojo’s features, but he quickly conceals it behind a mischievous smirk. "You jealous?"

He punctuates his question with a wink and you roll your eyes. "As if.”

“Uh huh.”

Five seconds left. “Maybe the jealous one here is actually you.”

You don’t entirely mean it when you say it; you really intend to make one last dig at Gojo before he moves on to the next person. Plus, you don’t even really think it’ll affect him all that much, things like that never really do. At least, you’ll get the last word here.

Or that’s what you think. You should have known better.

Gojo flashes a smile at you and for a few seconds you completely forget what breathing is. You’re used to playful smiles and teasing smiles, but the look that he’s giving you right now is different somehow. There’s something about the curve of his lips, about the borderline gentle glimmer of his crystalline eyes that sets your heartbeat into a frenzy.

Just as you remember how to breathe, he speaks, stealing your breath away all over again, “Who knows. Maybe I am.”

The bell finally rings, telling you that your two minutes with Satoru Gojo are now over, but you barely even register it— your eyes fixed on the man before you.

Just like Tomoda, before him, Gojo lingers, and he looks almost a little pleased with himself. The familiar expression snaps you out of your stupor and you glower at him, shooing him away like he’s unwanted.

Like you don’t want him to stay.

Like you don’t want to ask him what in the world was all that about.

Because you don’t, you really don’t. There’s no need to, you tell yourself. It’s just another one of the whacky mind games Gojo likes to play with you.

But even as the next person sits down across from you, you can’t get the look on Gojo’s face out of your mind. Even as they introduce themselves, the only thing you hear are Gojo’s last words.

“Who knows. Maybe I am.”

That’s crazy talk. He had to be fucking with you because there’s no way. No way that Satoru Gojo, of all people, would feel jealous.

Even though you know that, you can’t get what he said out of your mind and before you know it, the speed dating section of the match-making event is over and you don’t remember a damn thing about anyone who came after Gojo.

You’re annoyed. You’re so fucking annoyed that you wasted so much damn time thinking about that stupid blue eyed bastard, but it’s fine. It’s completely and totally fine, because you still have the free talk session. If you’re lucky, one of the people who came to you after Gojo will be interested enough to come chat you up and give you the chance to make up for the fact you had temporarily lost your mind thanks to one Satoru Gojo.

And if you’re unlucky… Well, you’re confident in the thought that it should be fine to seek out Tomoda. In fact, you decide to do that first. Better to just go for it than wait around. You survey the ballroom that you’re all in and you catch sight of the man off to the side, looking around somewhat shyly.

Is he looking for you?

You don’t want to get ahead of yourself, but it’s a nice thought. Nice, but… You shake your head; you don’t want to think about him right now. Before the traitorous thoughts can sneak back into your mind, you march over to where Tomoda is standing, tightly gripping the cards in your hand. At the beginning of the event, the staff had handed these cards out, instructing everyone to fill them out so that you could easily exchange contact information with anyone who caught your interest. And since Tomoda’s the only one who qualifies, it’s only natural that you give him one.

A relieved smile spreads across his features when he notices you and it makes you think that he really was looking for you after all.

You offer him a small smile of your own. “Hey.”

“Hi!” he squeaks and his expression turns a little sheepish.

You tilt your head in confusion. "What's up?"

"Just… a little surprised that you came to find me.”

"Huh? Why?"

Tomoda frowns, looking conflicted and, finally, he answers in a slow voice. "Well, that really handsome looking asshole seemed like he was really into you."

You blink.

Huh.

Huh?

Huh!?

You nearly double over in laughter. No offense to Tomoda but the thought is just flat out ridiculous. Satoru Gojo is into you? No way. Absolutely no way in hell. Not in a thousand, no, a million years would Gojo seriously—

"Who knows. Maybe I am."

Suddenly, your mouth is dry, your laughter dying in your throat as Gojo's words echo in your head yet again. There's no way he was serious then, right? He only said that to mess with you, to get the last word in, because there's no way, definitely no way…

You take a deep breath to compose yourself. Tomoda is still there and you're grateful that he hasn’t walked away thinking that you’re completely out of your mind. You take another breath, just in case, before you attempt to say anything. "What makes you think that?"

"Other than the obvious?" Tomoda asks, his tone a touch dry, and you frown, remembering how Gojo had made a scene earlier.

"...yes," you finally grumble when you realize that Tomoda is actually looking for an answer. "Other than that."

For some unknown reason, he seems hesitant to say anything further, but you gesture at him, urging him to speak. "Well, he… I noticed that he kept looking over at you after his turn.”

"That's because—" you start but then stop short when you realize that you actually have no answer. Your brain goes into overdrive trying to think of some kind of explanation, some kind of reason as to why Gojo would possibly…

"Who knows. Maybe I am."

The words are louder now. Almost deafening.

Still, you try to block them out.

"That's because he said something before we switched," you say desperately, like you’re grasping at straws. "I think he was just trying to fuck with me for the hell of it and, I don't know, maybe he kept looking to see how good of a job he did?"

Your lame explanation doesn’t seem to convince Tomoda. It doesn’t really convince you either. You rifle through your thoughts, trying to find some other possible reason, but everything you find seems to support Tomoda’s claim that, somehow, some way, Satoru Gojo is into you.

Tomoda looks like he’s trying to figure it out too, his expression contemplative. "...do you mind if I ask you a question?”

"...go ahead, shoot."

"You two knew each other before this, right?”

"Unfortunately," you admit begrudgingly. "But I didn't know he'd be here tonight."

Tomoda hums and nods his head slowly as he takes your words into consideration. He pauses, and then starts nodding again, quicker this time and you wonder if he’s figured something out. His expression shifts and you recognize this look; it’s the same as earlier when he was leaving your table. There’s something he wants to say, but he’s not sure if he should.

You have the distinct feeling that you're not going to like whatever it is, but still you push him to say it all the same. "What is it?"

Tomoda stares at you. Given the fact that this is a match-making event, you would expect some level of agitation or annoyance on his part, but the only thing you see in his bright, kind eyes is a curious glint. "Are you into that guy?”

No.

That's what you expect to say because that’s what you always say, but when your lips part to answer Tomoda's seemingly innocuous question nothing comes out. Yet the word remains there, stuck to the tip of your tongue and you don't understand why.

Maybe it’s the earnest look in Tomoda’s eyes or the strange and irritating feeling that’s been lurking in your chest ever since Gojo spoke to you earlier, but something, something is holding your denial at bay. More than that, it’s bidding you to actually be honest with yourself.

Because deep down you know the answer, and, worse than that, you know it isn’t no.

The truth fills your mouth, the shape of it uncomfortable and heavy in your jaw. It’s almost too much to handle, to keep in; one slip of the tongue and you’ll end up spilling it everywhere. If that happens— when that happens, you won’t be able to take it back.

When that happens, you won’t be able to deny Satoru Gojo any more.

And truthfully, the thought of it frightens you. That’s why you’ve kept your feelings buried deep inside you. That’s why you’re here at this match-making event, seeking a love that doesn’t scare you shitless. That’s why you keep denying Satoru Gojo’s presence in your heart.

Are you into him? Do you have feelings for him? Do you love him? You think the more important question here is are you truly prepared to answer these questions? Are you honestly ready to confront the feelings you’ve kept deep in your heart and the reality that comes with that?

When it comes down to it… you’re not.

Not here and not now.

You clamp your jaw down and forcefully swallow your feelings, condemning them back to the confines of your heart. They settle there, still uncomfortable, still heavy, but you’ll deal with them later, when they are not threatening to free themselves from the cage of your mouth.

Decision made, you look Tomoda in the eye and declare, “No, I’m not.”

He stares back at you and you can tell that he doesn’t believe you. Not one bit. But if anything, you are stubborn, persistent even. You swing one arm toward him, thrusting one of your contact cards in his direction as an offering, a prayer that, even for just a little bit, he’ll indulge your delusions.

Tomoda looks conflicted, like he’s biting his tongue and his gaze flickers between the card and your face. Finally, it stops on your face. His eyebrows furrow together in what is clearly concern, “Listen, you don’t—”

He stops short when you throw up your other arm, presenting the rest of your contact cards to him. You mean to send a message in the gesture, though honestly, at this point it’s probably futile. Still, you have to try.

Tomoda’s eyes ease down to the three cards fanned out before him, but he makes no move to take any of them. Instead, he sighs, clearly sympathetic when he looks at you directly. You see yourself reflected in his eyes and you look more desperate than determined.

Once again, he opens his mouth to speak, but this time you beat him to the punch, and you plead, “Please.”

Tomoda doesn’t move.

“Please,” you insist.

He continues to hold your gaze before, eventually, his shoulders slump, a clear sign that he’s given into you. You smile wryly; this man is truly too kind for his own good. Hopefully, he lives a long, happy life, free from the curses that plague your day-to-day life.

“...it’s not going to work out.”

Gojo’s voice echoes in your head once more, almost mocking you, and your hands waver just a tiny bit. You didn’t need him to tell you because deep down you already knew. It’s still annoying, but you manage to keep the disdain off your face for Tomoda’s sake.

Besides, it doesn’t mean that you can’t be friends. You think that, at least, that much should be fine.

Having finally given into your demands, Tomoda starts to reach for your cards. Just as he’s about to grasp them, another hand, pale with long, slender fingers shoots out and swipes all three cards from your grasp. Your head whips up to look at the interloper and, of course, who else do you find but Satoru Gojo, his trademark grin plastered to his face.

“I’ll be taking these,” he announces casually, slipping your cards into his shirt pocket.

You gape wordlessly at him and he continues to smile at you like some sort of angelic devil. Then, as swiftly as he appeared, he turns on his heel and walks off into the crowd.

Slowly, you turn to look back at Tomoda, who turns to look at you. He seems as stunned as you feel, but you think he recovers first. The man gives you a gentle smile and you think that he truly deserves the world— a world you can’t and could never give him.

“You want to go after him, don’t you?” he asks. You can’t even begin to comprehend why, but he sounds almost amused. Is whatever’s going on between you and Gojo entertaining or something?

Scowling, you answer, “If only to beat his stupid handsome face in.”

This time you’re the one who’s made Tomoda laugh and it alleviates your annoyance just a bit. “Go on, then, I’ll be cheering for you.”

“It’s not like that,” you say automatically.

“If you say so.”

You sigh, ready to follow after that damn idiot, but before you do, you bow in Tomoda’s direction and tell him, earnestly, “I’m really sorry.”

He chuckles again and gestures for you to go. “Get going then, you don’t want to lose him.”

You feel like there’s some kind of double meaning in his words, but he’s right; if you linger too long you might not be able to catch up to Gojo. For good measure, you bow once more before taking your leave.

It’s lucky that Gojo is so damn tall— you spot him almost immediately, at the entrance to the ballroom. You trail after him, expertly weaving through everyone else in the room, but by the time you reach the ballroom doors he’s already gone.

Damn that man and his long legs.

“Excuse me.”

You turn to face whoever is speaking to you, actually hoping that it’s not a potential suitor. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, it’s one of the event staff.

“Yes?” you answer carefully, praying that they’re not about to reprimand you for the outburst you had earlier.

“If you’re looking for that handsome gentleman, he headed that way,” the staff member informs you, pointing down the hallway. At the other end you see a large sign indicating the hotel’s garden is in that direction. It’s a weird place for Gojo to go, but then again he’s just like that sometimes. Grateful, you bow to thank the event staffer before heading in the direction they indicated.

When you walk out into the garden, it feels almost as if you’ve been transported to another world entirely. The night air is cool on your face, and the loud chatter of the ballroom is completely gone, replaced with the gentle sound of running water. Maybe there’s some sort of fountain nearby. Looking around, you step further into the garden. You’re surrounded by a canopy of trees, their branches adorn with fairy lights that illuminate the area in a soft, warm glow. You remember reading that this hotel is a popular wedding venue and you wonder if this garden is where they hold the ceremonies. It would make sense, but it appears that no one is getting married here tonight.

There’s no sign of Gojo though.

The garden is pretty big, so you keep searching. As you walk, the sound of water grows louder and soon enough you find yourself at what has to be the center of the garden. Your entire body stills, your jaw nearly dropping as you take in the sight before you. The fountain you had speculated about turns out to be much, much larger than you thought. It’s really more like a stone pool than a fountain. It’s surrounded by decorative stone structures, which seem to be fountains themselves, feeding water into the pool. Finally, you take a step closer, and you notice the fountain is illuminated, giving the water a soft, ethereal glow. Running through the center of the pool, bisecting it, is a disjointed stone pathway, the steps spaced enough to reveal the water beneath, but close enough to prevent a bridal train or anyone not paying attention to where they’re stepping an unwanted dip.

At the end of the pathway is a small landing, a small, square island in the middle of the pool. The edges are decorated in flowers and decorative stone lanterns. It’s picturesque and you think that this must be where people exchange their vows and promises of everlasting love.

It’s here where you find Satoru Gojo.

His back is to you, and you could, if you wanted, turn back around and leave him here.

But you don’t.

You make your way toward him, carefully stepping onto the stone pathway as if you might slip or sink into the water beneath. When you’re sure of your footing you take a step forward, then another, and another. Just as you’re about to make it to the landing, Gojo turns around to face you. He smiles, and your entire body goes still at the sight. The look on his face is far softer, far sweeter than you’re used to. If you were crazy, you’d go so far as to say that it looks almost loving.

He takes a step toward you, and then another and another. With each step he takes, your heartbeat grows louder and more erratic, the sound of it filling your ears. Your eyes are fixed on Gojo as he approaches and you wonder if his infinity is up because it almost feels like the closer he gets the slower he goes.

But eventually, he does reach you.

Gojo looks down at you and you can see that amused sparkle in his eyes as he says, “Look who decided to join me tonight.”

The sound of his voice frees you from your daze and you glare at him. “Cut the crap, Gojo.”

His lips curve, forming an expression you’re more familiar with, one you’re used to wrangling. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb; it’s not cute,” you hiss, earning you the smallest pout from him. You ignore it. “Why’d you take my cards earlier?”

“I—” he begins, enunciating dramatically, “was saving you from a world of heartbreak.”

“Were you?” you ask, your voice less of a challenge than it was before.You can tell Gojo notices from the shift in his expression.

He doesn’t say anything about it though, and he continues, his voice dropping to something more somber, more serious. “It wouldn’t work out.”

You look into his eyes, staring at the endless sparkling blue sky within them and consider arguing with him, disagreeing with him because it’s like second nature to you.

But you decide not to.

Instead, you look away as you admit, “I know.”

Gojo doesn’t laugh or gloat and it makes you wonder if your confession surprises him. You don’t check though, and continue speaking, your voice low, “Tomoda's a nice guy. He deserves a happy, normal love and that's… not something I can promise him."

For as long as you are a jujutsu sorcerer, your life will always be in danger. Every mission carries not only the risk of death, but the chance that you won't even make it home in a body bag. The stress of that, the fear of it, isn't something you can carelessly give to someone else, especially not someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with. You’d like to think it’d be different with another jujutsu sorcerer, someone who knows the reality of the world you’re part of, but even then you have your doubts.

"So," Gojo's voice is strangely quiet and you notice there's something, some emotion you don't recognize saturating his tone, "you into that guy?"

You sigh as you answer, honestly this time, "No. I'm not."

Gojo doesn't say anything in response— no wiseass quip, no pompous remark, nothing. You don't mind, but it's very odd for him to be silent.

Naturally, it doesn't last for long.

"You know," he drawls, his tone suddenly playful. "Even though I was obviously the hottest person in the room, you looked pretty good yourself."

It feels like all the air has been knocked out of you. The compliment, on its own, is strange because you can't even remember the last time Gojo complimented you, if he ever has, but more than that, where in the world did that come from? You know Gojo has a penchant for unpredictable behavior, but this is something else.

In your shock, you turn to face him, and you realize that the compliment was just the tip of the iceberg. He's leaning down, his gaze fixed on you, the blue glow of his eyes wiping the knowledge of how to breathe from your mind. His palm ghosts over your cheek, and though he's not touching you, you can still feel the warmth emanating off it. You are hyper aware of him coming closer, his face, his lips approaching yours.

No, no, no.

It has to be some illusion, some trick of the mind, because there's no way that Satoru Gojo actually wants to—

Bewildered, you take a step back and your foot manages to wedge itself in one of the gaps of the stone pathway. You wobble, thrown entirely off balance. Seconds later, you're falling sideways straight into the water.

Gojo stares down at you, actually looking shocked for once and you wish you had your phone out to take a picture. It doesn't take long for him to get over it and he starts to laugh uncontrollably.

You glare at him like a drenched cat and raise your hand to splash at him. Weirdly enough, he lets the water hit him, his infinity remaining inactive.

"Don't laugh!" you snap at him.

Of course, he keeps laughing.

You try to lift yourself out of the water, but the river stones beneath you are too slippery for you to get a good grip. If you reposition yourself you think you could do it, but if you do your clothes will be completely drenched and that's the last thing you want right now.

With an exasperated sigh, you ask, "Gojo, will you please help me?"

He snickers, "Wow. Didn't think you'd actually ask."

You glare at him.

"Okay, okay," he steps toward you and outstretches one of his hands for you to take. For once, you don't hesitate to take it and Gojo pulls you from the water with ease, but you think that maybe he uses a little too much force as you collide with the expanse of his chest.

This is too close! You try to take another step back, but Gojo is faster, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from moving.

"Careful," he warns and you think he's teasing you. Is it just you, or is his voice just a touch deeper than normal? Regardless, the sound manages to scramble your thoughts a little. "Or you'll end up taking another dip."

"...right," you mumble, trying to straighten your thoughts. "Thanks."

You think Gojo will let you go.

But he doesn't, and the two of you remain there, pressed close. You're sure the wetness of your clothes is spreading to his, slowly messing up that expensive suit of his. Gojo doesn't seem to care though, but maybe that's because it's just water.

"...you could do it, if you wanted," Gojo's voice is barely audible.

"Huh?"

When he speaks again, it's louder this time, "Give someone a normal, happy love. It's not like you're completely broken or anything like that."

You blink, confused. What is he talking about? Then it clicks and you explain, "That's not it."

Now it seems like Gojo’s confused for once. "Huh?"

"I meant… he’s a non-sorcerer, so…" you trail off, not wanting to explain. Gojo should be able to catch your drift.

He does. “Right, right. It’d suck for your non-sorcerer boyfriend if you were to just suddenly die a terrible and horrific death, huh.”

A little too well. “I think it’d suck for my sorcerer boyfriend too, if I had one.”

“That’s probably true, but if your boyfriend was a sorcerer, then maybe you’d die cruel and unusual deaths together. That’s romantic, isn’t it?”

“Actually, I think it’s kind of morbid.”

You think you feel Gojo’s arms shift, as if his grip is tightening ever so slightly around you. But then he starts to laugh and you figure it must have just been your imagination. You don’t really get why he’s laughing, though.

"What's so funny?" You ask when his laughter finally dies down.

"Nothing!"

You sigh. Should have known better than to think he’d give you a straight answer.

Gojo finally steps away from you, taking the warmth of his body with him and you dismally realize that you rather enjoyed him being so close. Desperately, you try to tell yourself that it’s because with him gone you’re remembering how cold and wet your clothes are right now and not for any other reason.

It's going to suck going all the way home like this.

You hear the sound of rustling cloth and as you look up you catch Gojo draping his giant blazer over your shoulders. It's warm and before you realize what you're doing you're tugging it closer around you, the scent of Gojo's cologne filling your nostrils. It’s nice you think, definitely expensive, but nice.

He stares at you, the expression on his face the strangest one yet.

"What?" you ask.

Gojo merely shakes his head again and it's obvious he plans to keep this to himself too. "Come on, let's go. Can't have you catching a cold now, hm?"

He grabs you by the wrist and starts to pull you toward the garden exit. And, maybe you're imagining it, but you think you might see the palest shade pink dusting the tips of his ears.

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #writer: stellamancer #im eating him btw #i need to know what that face was bc i need to tease the shit out of him #going to bully him soooo hard /affectionate

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cornballes · 1 year ago

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big rant abt my smr dr experience??? i think??? tw; sh

tbh tho at the time i was doing that shit i WAS um.. pretty (does that twirly finger thing around my head????) at the time of making those baitposts. I dont mind ppl finding my idenity now because ik thats just another annoying fuck i dont have to talk to.. ever! i just dont send it HERE cause.. well.. thats too easy <3 I thought that ppl were gonna harass me to no end, and tbh i DID get some.. really.. fucked up anons from just being annoying back then and ig i thought itd go to my fr account too. (racism, death threats, ableism, and MORE! this starter pack rocks!) Idk why people were so obsessed with finding my fucking dragon porn game identity though. like okay ???? #69837 aint my address dumbass... I joined this fr drama server because anons kept telling my (paranoid + rude ass) to go and shit it up cause "ppl were talking shit abt me" and i was like oh my god its time to catch HANDS!!!! i still hv an archive of the super duper dm-fight but.. the owner said "whatever goes in server stays there" so well. i calmly deleted the sses </3

idk why they were upset I uh. showed off their tag when they were fucking EXCITED to tell evryone mine, though...like i went "OH OH sorry, ill add it" and this dude was fucking shaking his hands jumping for joy to fucking do it for me. calm down butthead!!!!!!

i think a huge root of my rudeness and.. assholish attitude was my paranoia...and larp-craziness. i was scared for my damn life.. when i typed that shit up i was genuinely shaking n talking to myself for hours afterward Im still upset that people decided to take my thoughts of watning to send ppl my scars etc to face value, but tbh its fr. fr ppl are stupid. I was genuinely in a fucked up place and i was using making myself a "cringe, annoying troll punching bag" as coping mech.. when it was ACTUALLY making things worse.. and well. dr+smr people realllly didnt help. literally egging me on to continue to hurt myself and stuff in my inbox... people calling me a fucking evil person who sends people things ive never sent to anyone ever and never actually would.

people used me venting fucking AGAINST me and painted me as a villain when all i wanted was.. to make people laugh. but it turned into ppl laughing at ME, and not the jokepost.. people took my stop posting abt amongus copypasta so serious, got mad abt me wanting a stinky fujo coomer dragon npc.. list goes on.. i took pleasure in making ppl mad at me, but it also hurt a fuckton

i mean.. now i can laugh abt how much of a dumb bitch i was. nothing i posted since then has ever been that successful. or cringe. or annoying... lol.. some people has asked me to post again but.. idk. i just wanna be normal now. int with the people who havent blocked me yet.. ik thye hate me but i hope that one day they restalk my blog and decide to be neutral towards me again..

until then um..

dear anti anti exalters: YOU PISS ME THE FUCK OFF. oh yeah.. YOU KNOW WHO I AMMM, KAGURAA!

bye :)

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steadfastspirits-a · 2 years ago

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@risingsol

Observation is a key facet of any research, and it would be a shame if Albedo failed to note important details as he attempted to unravel the very secrets of the world. From the most mundane flutter of a crystalfly’s wings, to the nature of the corruption that echoed throughout every corner of Dragonspine — nothing was too large or too small to focus on. Truly, the only thing that kept the alchemist from finding out the inner workings and nature of an object or concept was his own whims.

While social cues and concepts were a newer avenue of information for him, Albedo was nothing if not receptive, and it would require true blindness to miss the way in which the traveler darted to and fro at the whims of others. On some level, this could be chalked up to being a way to earn favor so as to receive help in return, but the man went to truly exhaustive heights when it came to handling tasks for others. Relationships required regular maintenance in order to flourish, similarly to flowers, and while Albedo found it to be a tiring process, the results were more than worthwhile. Human bonds were something to be cherished, just as the morning dew upon a cecilia’s petals. Fleeting, but precious.

It is with this in mind that a letter is delivered to Aether, courtesy of a bouncy Klee at the Weinlesefest stalls in Springvale.

It has been a while, so I think it is about time we met up. When you have a spare moment, come to Windrise.

I will prepare refreshments, and we can discuss your journey, as well as various avenues of research.

- Albedo

A reasonable break for both of them. Timaeus’ research was on the right track with his sobriety potion, and it would, hopefully, be refreshing for Aether to take time away from helping others. While research into Razor’s family was important, it often felt like the world fell upon his shoulders.

Windrise would be far enough from the festivities, while offering a beautiful locale for painting. If Aether chose to take him up on his invitation, there would be various desserts laid out upon a picnic blanket, as well as two canvases — in case his companion would prefer to continue with art lessons as opposed to merely talking. As for the alchemist himself, he sat upon a corner of the blanket, sketching the great tree.

#i got caught up on acts i and ii of the new event and!! while i havent done the side quests #i am living for it #razor found fambly hours... but also i feel like aether deserves a break #like i am so glad he can be around for his friends but its just. ah im back in mond and everyones missed me but also here is a whole new #problem to tackle #ALSO IVE BEEN MEANING TO HAND YOU A STARTER SO #inspiration hit :3 #also while i was writing this people started posting about albedo so now im just Eyezooms did he finally appear in the event??#ic;#muse: albedo;#risingsol

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pianostarinwonderland · 2 years ago

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I’m seeing some drama pop up around the new event concerning Rollo, I hope the fandom will act maturely and not to blow things out of proportion this time around.

Ask 3: On a separate note, the amount of discourse surrounding him has the fandom divided and it’s kinda funny (as long as we’re not harassing anyone over diff opinions). Like some ppl love him and some hate him. My only thing is that bc he hasn’t done anything diabolical to warrant any major hate from me so he’s cool, and idk if ppl notice but twst characters are not direct copies of the villain they’re inspired by. They take notable characteristics sure but for some they change it up so much that they have two different characters. Hades is outwardly confident and has not problem socializing w ppl, now compare that to Idia. They’re pretty diff with the only exception is that they can talk fast when they want and are cocky, but w Idia it’s in spurs. Also with Vil, they were able to make a pretty static, run of the mill Evil Queen villain into a hard working, role model-esque celebrity. Either way his uniform be popping off and I would not mind wearing it. Plus their school get nice magic rings so that’s a win too.

Ask 4: tho most of the fandom, so far from what ive seen, has just been headcanoning him as a ripoff scaramouche from genshin - violently cold, the grinch, a highschool mean girl, homophobic (thats a meme i think), and aggressively catholic (i dont disagree with that due to what villain he's based on but no way to know for sure just yet). all that. like stereotypically those themes, despite us not even having a proper introduction from him yet/not having seen enough of him to see how he's truly like (we only have a few frames, non translated i dont think). the fandom just see's 1 pic of character with a frown/neutral expression and goes wild with it.. which makes me kinda sad :( just cuz their based on a villain doesnt mean their batshit evil- that goes for a lot of the cast already.

Putting the last 2 asks as text here since they are both part of much longer asks that I want to give a separate post to respectively.

Since the next part is coming out today and I have some time on my hands, I think it’s about time I give my thoughts about the elephant in the room regarding Rollo. I think the discourse died down a bit for the time being, but with the next four parts that will still come out from today till November, it's not impossible for it to revive depending on what happens next.

To sum up what has been happening in the fandom, there are a lot of mixed responses with TWST Frollo becoming real. Some are very excited about this, but others are uncomfortable due to the racism that Frollo aims at the Romani people. A few Romani people on Twitter have apparently spoken up about their sentiments and discomforts, and the discourse started from there. It doesn't help that the Kohaku article "The Disney Villains Game is Having a Horny Racism Controversy" fanned the flames further.

For starters, my stances and sentiments are very similar to @raven-at-the-writing-desk’s, which you can find over here. As the anons in asks 3 and 4 have stated, we don't know much about Rollo enough that we could make a fair judgment. Even if this event concludes in a month, I think we'll come out of it with more questions than answers since it seems pretty clear that he will make an appearance in main story (what with him having a formal introduction and an official voice). We don't know yet how much he'll resemble Frollo, nor do we know how much traits he'll share with Quasimodo. Something important to consider is that nobody in TWST is truly evil. Rather, they're people who have their shitty sides and good sides, who have made shit choices and good ones, and I doubt this will change with Rollo. All that I have to say on this matter is (a) to not define Frollo, and thus Rollo, for the racism they exhibit, and (b) to not jump into conclusions and assumptions about a character we barely know.

As for the racism, I think that the problem itself is not the presence of racism but how the racism is presented. It's one thing for racism to be presented. It's another thing for the racism to be glorified, and it's yet another thing for the racism to be condemned. If TWST glorifies Rollo's racism or even just ignores it, there's going to be a problem there. But if Rollo's racism is condemned (via the characters' disgust, etc.), then it will depict racism in a bad light. And so far, TWST has been pretty good with depicting that racism is a no-no, particularly with Sebek's way of talking to humans (Silver and Riddle would reprimand him for the way that he speaks. You can see this in chapter 5 and in Riddle's robe story). Either way, I believe that Frollo's racism should not be swept under the rug and should be something that is addressed here, especially considering the conflict that is being set up in chapter 7 with the whole fae vs humans thing.

I really do get the worries. Even I'm waiting for the next part with scrutiny because I want to see how they will handle Rollo. But I think we should be less rash about our judgments and see what happens first. Let's also be careful of where we get our translations from too since we do have some sketchy ass tlers around. If you need any clarifications on what happens in the event, ask any trustworthy tler or even me. But as the first anon said, I hope we're all mature about this and not blow things out of proportion. ^^;;

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst jp #ask #discourse

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ssajemilyprentiss · 3 years ago

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Loving you is a losing game

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: Angst, arguing, tears, mentions of death/dead body, mentions of throwing up, a curse word, no happy ending let me know if i forgot something

Summary: Emily has been acting off and no matter how many times you ask her she doesn’t tell you anything and just push you away.

A/N: Set during the Lauren arc (majority of the things have already happened lol) just so you know where we are, this is in the storyline where Emily and Derek are where Tsia is found, but it’s Y/N instead of Derek. i just added the car ride before lol. Just for the sake of the plot here, the scene where Emily walks out of the BAU never happens, i replaced that one with what happens last in this lol

This was also requested for my 200 follower celebration from Iv @sweetprentiss this time “oooo and one more! emily x reader “please just tell the truth for once!” So since I kinda got free hands on this one I decided to use that fully, i hope you like this one too Iv and thank you for this request too <3

☽ My masterlist here

☽ Want to request something from me? Take a look here

Emily had left once again out of nowhere, not saying where she was going. She just got out of your apartment and closed the door, not even saying goodbye. You look at the time, 10.26 pm and wonder if she’ll go to her place or come back. You send her a new text asing where she is and when she’s coming home. You barely get the chance to put it down before it vibrates, you pick it up and see a new text from Emily saying:

i’m out for a walk. sleeping at my place tonight, goodnight love you

You just stare at the screen and raise an eyebrow, a walk? Why couldn’t she just tell you that? You want to believe her but you get this gutting feeling in your stomach telling you she’s lying - and you know she is. You unlock your phone and reply:

okay, be safe. let me know when you’re home, love you too

You get ready for bed and as you lay down and try to sleep your mind starts racing, what is she really up to? Could she be seeing someone behind your back? You shake the thought away fast, she never would and you know that. As you close your eyes and try to sleep the feeling that something is really wrong is constant in the back of your mind.

You wake up the next morning from a text from Penelope, you pick up your phone and read:

New updates on the case, come to Quantico ASAP!

You get out of bed and get ready as soon as you can, exit the apartment and enter your car. The drive to Quantico going a little faster than usual, but the tone of Penelope’s text made it sound urgent. You couldn’t wrap your head around this case, whole families were being murdered but the unsubs covered it up to make it look like accidents. And when Emily and Derek went to visit a potential victim they ended up in the middle of a shootout with them. You sigh as you pull up to the parking lot, the bad feeling in your stomach still not gone.

You enter the bullpen and drop your bag on your desk and as you do Hotch walks up to you

“Y/N DC metro has been held up, there’s been a double murder on K-street and 9. They want someone from us to take a look ” he says but before you can answer Emily comes up to you

“K-street and 9th?” she asks and Hotch nods

“I’m going with you” she tells you sternly and starts walking to the car

“Okay” you reply even though she’s already left

As you sit in the car you notice how tense Emily is, she keeps looking out the rearview mirror on her side and she seems distressed.

“Emily how are you?” you ask

“I’m good, why wouldn’t I be?” she replies

“Well for starters you look like you could jump out of your seat because how tense you are” and as your say that she straightens her posture, trying to look more relaxed but you see right through her

“And secondly your “walks” and other nightly adventures make me worried” you continue

“Why?”

“Emily you have never as long as I have known you gone for a walk willingly, and at night also”

“What can’t I pick up a new hobby?” she asks and you hear the annoyance lacing her tone

“That’s not what I’m saying-” you start

“Good, then we’ll drop this” she interrupts you and looks out the window again and you get the feeling again, you just know she’s not telling the truth.

“I’m sorry” you say after a while

“I’m sorry too” she replies but keeps looking out the window

“I love you”

But Emily stays quiet, didn’t she hear you? You feel how her silence breaks you, but you stay quiet too - still with that gutting feeling in your stomach, there is something she isn’t telling you.

As you get to the scene you walk into the apartment and see a man dead in there, you notice Emily standing outside the door keeping her eyes on the woman that’s lying there.

“He took two in the chest, went quickly” you say and walk out to her but she doesn’t reply

“One straight in her forehead” you say directed at the woman on the floor in front of you, and Emily keeps quiet

“She comes to the door and he shoots her there, she didn’t stand a chance” you continue and you notice how Emily once again is tensing up, and she looks visibly shaken at the sight of the woman. Just as you’re about to ask her what’s wrong she speaks:

“I need some air” and she walks away quickly, leaving you behind

You follow her and as you get out you see her by a fence, coughing and you see vomit on the ground by her shoes.

“Emily, what's going on with you?”

“I’m fine” she says

“No you’re not” you blurt at her “You just threw up here, are you sick?”

“No, let’s just go back to the BAU but swing by my place first so I can change” she says and walk away from you, you sigh deeply and walk after her

When you pull up outside Emily’s apartment and you’re about unbuckle your seatbelt she stops you

“Stay in the car, I’ll be quick” she says and get out before you get the chance to protest

You sit back in your seat and once again let out a deep sigh, why couldn’t you come up with her to the apartment? You lay your head to the side and you feel how tiredness hits you, this case and the whole Emily situation is really tearing on you. You hear your phone going off, pick it up and see that it’s Hotch texting.

Go home and rest for a couple of hours, you’ve done enough for the day. We’ll meet at Quantico again at 9pm when other leads have been checked

You reply with a quick ‘okay’ and just as you put your phone down Emily comes back to the car.

“Hotch just texted” you say and show her your phone

“Okay, can we go to your place? Mine is a mess”

“Sure” you reply and drive off to your apartment.

You wake in your bed at 8pm by your alarm, and notice that Emily isn’t next to you. You get out of bed quickly and look for her and just as you get out of your bedroom you see her by the front door. She looks like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar - you weren’t supposed to know she left.

“Aren’t you coming back to Quantico?” you ask, crossing your arms

“I am” she replies turning away from you “I just need to run an errand first” she places her hand on the doorknob and is about to open the door but you stop her.

“Emily I’m done with this” you blurt at her, louder than intended “that’s bullshit and we both know it”

“I don’t know what you want me to say Y/N”

“Emily please just tell me the truth for once!” you yell and grab her hand, stopping her from leaving once again

She pulls away and turns around “You want the truth?” she asks “The truth is that I don’t love you anymore Y/N”

Her words feels like a knife through your heart, and you feel tears burning in your eyes “You don’t mean that” you choke out

She swallows thickly and it looks like she’s blinking away tears of her own “I do” she starts “I don’t love you anymore so we’re over, goodbye Y/N” and before you get a chance to reply she’s out the door and shuts it with a loud bang. And as the door slams you fall down to your knees, sobbing loudly.

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Taglist: @originalvampireslut / @ssa-sapphic / @sweetprentiss / @alexbllake / @emilyprsntiss / @sapphic-stress / @sleep-deprived-athlete / @jemilyssecretlover / @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos / @cmslvtt / @phatcrackdad

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine

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