#But for Duncan... it's just straight up blood lol

[tojiscrack]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

summary: 11.4k words — you spend some time at megumi and yuji’s open game, but spend some more time with someone else there

notes: i was overwhelmed with the amount of asks, messages, comments, and dm’s the last chapter provoked! (in a good way ofc, i loved it 😭). now i’m just curious — a lot of you (as predicted) hated the events of last chapter. you’re definitely not gonna enjoy this one :) anyway, it’s 1hr past the 22nd of dec, and i intended to get this out for megumi’s birthday, so pretend i did. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR GRUMPY PORCUPINE! <3

tw: shouting, BELLOWING, yelling, whatever other words you might use for that lol, and blood, criminals, and gangs

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"the raven himself is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance of duncan under my battlements ... come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts!"

the stage lights cast a soft glow, illuminating you as you delivered your lines with striking conviction. it wasn't a performance for a packed auditorium, but a rehearsal for your extracurricular theatre club.

the room was mostly empty, save for a few of your peers and your director, yet megumi could feel the atmosphere buzzing with quiet focus. your voice filled the space, and he silently appreciated how you could throw yourself into a character so conniving like lady macbeth and then jump right into being your bubbly self once again, as though you hadn't just emasculated poor macbeth trembling on the other side of the stage.

not that he'd ever tell you that. the most you'd get is a pat on the head, and even that seemed to be a bit much for megumi.

the lack of an audience didn't matter to you, it seemed; you poured your entire heart into the scene, as if the world were watching.

but it was easy to remind himself of the fact that it was a rehearsal and not a real performance, for every time you reached that exact line, you'd let out a snort and turn away with the same maturity as a child. megumi became more and more unimpressed each time it happened.

"y/n," the director called out, her voice made ten times louder from the echo of the megaphone.

you nodded, but still failed to wipe that grin off your face.

"i got it," you assured her, and megumi had almost missed what you'd said when the loud movement of the seats from somewhere in the backrow had sounded for the nth time. you schooled your face with an expression of determination, but megumi could see the underlying hint of amusement, clear as day. "unsex me here! and fill me from the —"

you'd cut yourself off with your laughter, the sound of it only resulting in more groans from your peers backstage, but megumi only watched you with a raised brow, mentally cursing whoever was making that stupid chair noise from the backrow — your laughter had been drowned out by it.

"i can't do it," you chortled, using the pages of your script to hide your face. "i can't do it!"

the director's sigh echoed around the hall.

"right, adjust the flower crown 'cause it's sitting on the edge of your head, and let's do act five, scene one."

megumi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he observed the stage's organised chaos. you and your peers bustled about, setting up for the transition to the next scene.

the props crew adjusted the minimalistic set pieces while one of your friends struggled to untangle a misplaced curtain cord. you briefly stepped offstage, laughing with another castmate as they adjusted your flower crown to sit properly atop your head.

as the lights dimmed slightly in preparation, megumi looked up again, his patience steady, fully expecting to see you dive back into the character of lady macbeth without skipping a beat.

and you had — straight away.

you were now at the centre of the stage once more, standing by a fake sink — a prop — your arms extended before you, one hand holding your script, the other with fingers curled towards yourself.

"out, damned spot!" you began, voice striking. "out, i say!"

there was a pause, and megumi half believed that you had forgotten the rest of your lines (even though you were reading out of a paper script held in your hand) but then you looked up, apparently going to improv.

"out, damned fricking spot! get out of here! you damned — damned spot, get away and just — just go and leave and why don't you just leave —"

"y/n," the director called out your name, tone firm and scolding. "stick to the scri— oh for god's —"

you laughed loudly, shaking your head and standing still, your hands back at your side.

"'kay i'm sorry," you sighed, and megumi could tell that you were genuine, but he knew the director couldn't. from his seat in the audience, the director's eyes had narrowed, her megaphone now at her side as she raised a brow at you, the lines on her forehead prominent as ever.

"i'll start again," you told her, and megumi had to strain to catch that, for the stupid chair noise had echoed around the hall again.

you had lifted your script and began hurriedly rereading your lines, but when your eyes had lifted and skimmed the hall, passing megumi's, he frowned when you stumbled, almost looking as though you had attempted to retreat in fear.

"what just happened?" the director's voice called out through the megaphone again.

you furrowed your brows and squinted your eyes. megumi held back a scowl. what the hell were you up to now?

you eventually answered the question, but only after you'd become comfortable at the centre of the stage again, nodding to yourself with a smile.

"ah, sorry," you said, meeting her stern gaze sheepishly. "the outline of megumi's head just scared me for a second —"

the scowl that he'd been trying his hardest to hold back had been released, and it only deepened at the sound of the people backstage — your foolish classmates — laughing along.

there was nothing funny about that, and if he chose to tell all of them about your mermaid fiasco several years ago, you wouldn't find it funny then.

he sunk in his seat, throwing you a glare you probably couldn't see very well seeing as the rest of the auditorium was dark; the only lights being shun were the ones on the stage.

"if she wasn't my best lead, i would've kicked her out by now," the director whispered, only, it had been (accidentally) spoken with the megaphone on.

she quickly turned it off, but it had been too late: you'd already heard it.

your lips parted slightly, eyebrows raised in mild offense, but the glimmer in your eyes betrayed a certain smugness. you glanced briefly at the director with mock indignation, a hand coming to rest on your hip as if you were about to deliver a snarky comeback, but instead, you simply shook your head and turned back to your script, a faint, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

megumi watched this unfold, his expression still maintaining that bitter scowl.

while the comment seemed to have both bruised and inflated your ego, he wasn't surprised. you'd always had this uncanny ability to balance between taking yourself seriously and not at all. best lead, he thought dryly, watching with half lidded eyes as you delivered your next few lines correctly. if only she knew how many times he'd seen you trip over thin air or forget half your lines in the name of a 'creative process'. still, he begrudgingly admitted to himself that, onstage, you were captivating — even if it happened to be for the wrong reasons half the time.

as the rehearsal wound down, you and your peers began packing up on stage. megumi used his phone to check the time.

it was time to go home.

scripts were gathered and props carefully returned to their designated spots by the crew. the faint creak of the stageboards accompanied the bustle, with one of your classmates complaining about how she couldn't find her missing pencil while another laughed at something whispered behind the curtains.

you slipped off your flower crown, adjusting it absentmindedly before tossing it onto a nearby prop table, and joined the group tidying up. the director had long since stopped barking orders and now stood by the edge of the stage, chatting with one of the seniors about next week's rehearsal schedule.

megumi stood from his seat with a quiet sigh, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he made his way towards the backstage area, but not without stopping to throw the annoying person at the back row with the noisy chair a glance.

the person was now standing, but the automatic chair had slammed itself shut, allowing that loud noise to carry itself around the hall.

megumi had made his way towards the wall by the side curtain, his nose scrunched at the person — their silhouette showing that it was a guy around the same height as himself.

he had left the hall abruptly as megumi leaned against the wall, waiting for you to finish up, his gaze idly tracking your movements.

you turned around and jumped.

"ah, porcupine!" you gasped, unclipping your bracelets absentmindedly. "you need to announce your arrival, you scared m—"

"shut up, mermaid," he snapped, his patience running thin.

your lips pressed themselves into a tight line, eyes narrowing as you straightened your posture and clenched your jaw, willing yourself to keep your composure, though the sharpness in your movements — tossing your bracelets into the props table with more force than necessary —betrayed your irritation.

"i'm gonna call security on you," you threatened him, the corner of your mouth twitching as if you were fighting the urge to scowl outright, but instead, you busied yourself with adjusting your hair. the flower crown had messed the top of it.

"why are you tapping your head like that?" he questioned, not even entertaining the empty threat you'd shot at him.

"'cause if i'm not careful, i'll end up looking like a punk," you answered, before intentionally eyeing his dishevelled, fluffy hair. you met his sharpened gaze with a look of faux remorse. "yikes."

there was a glint of something dangerous in his eyes as he watched you try to unclip the necklace hanging delicately on your collarbone — a warning, sharp and unspoken, that clearly said: watch it.

"turn around," he grumbled, when it became apparent that it was going to take a while for you to finally manage taking the ugly necklace off.

you complied without much protest. however, that didn't mean that you did so silently:

"could be nicer about i— ow, porcupine! it's got my hair, it's got my hair!"

"stop moving," megumi demanded, messily throwing your hair over your shoulder to your front. he grunted under his breath when you continued to struggle against him. "squirming like a mermaid —"

your reaction was immediate, bristling with indignation as your head snapped around to glare at him, though the position made it awkward. if he wasn't fiddling with the clasp at the base of your neck, you might've been tempted to swat at his hands, but instead, you turned your focus forward, muttering something unintelligible under your breath that was undoubtedly not complimentary.

you flinched when he had finally managed to successfully unclip the necklace, but only when it continued to tug at the hairs at the back of your neck.

"porcupine — ow! oh my g— stop!" you complained, your eyes watering and knees bending as megumi tugged at the necklace again.

"how else am i supposed to take it off?" he shot back, grumpy.

"i'mgonnaendupinahospitalbedlikeallthoseyearsagoandnearlydie—"

"you never nearly died," said megumi, emphasising his point by cruelly pulling the necklace down again. you had stumbled back into him, but he remained stagnant where he stood, brows furrowed in both annoyance and deep concentration. "don't be stupid."

"ouch! you're doing it on purpose now, you — porcu—"

"right, who is porcupine?" the director's voice cut through the air like a whip, sharp and demanding attention.

the two of you looked up abruptly: she was standing before you, arms raised (and brows furrowed) in confusion.

deadpanned, you shot megumi a quick glance before addressing her.

"... is it really that hard to guess, looking between the two of us?"

at that, megumi had harshly pulled the necklace, taking some of your hair with it.

you squeaked, your hand immediately going up to ease the pain as you spun around and stared at his hand, the necklace holding bits of your hair cut fresh from the top of your neck.

"..."

"..."

"... okay, what is going on here?" the director asked, her eyes following the prop as megumi casually threw it over your head and onto the table behind you.

megumi barely had time to blink after that before you lunged at him, your hands diving into his hair with startling precision.

you yanked back with just enough force to rip out a few strands, his grunt of annoyance and pain echoing around the hall as the director stood frozen, her expression caught somewhere between bewildered disbelief and an exasperated sigh, as though contemplating whether this entire exchange was even worth addressing.

"right, y/n —"

"now we're even!" you snapped, as though the woman beside you hadn't spoken at all. you presented the dark hairs to megumi, and then purposefully made him watch as you slowly pocketed them, taking your sweet time and relishing in the crease between his brows that continued to deepen the longer you drew it out.

"you're a weirdo," he stated icily, but you turned away, paying him no mind.

"keep talking and i'm gonna get nobara's voodoo doll."

the two of you exited the auditorium together, the air practically vibrating with the quiet reluctance of megumi's brooding presence beside you.

he strode with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, meanwhile, you walked with an air of triumph, your fingers slipping into your own pocket every so often to toy with the strands of his hair, a small grin tugging at your lips every time you caught the subtle crackle of his growing irritation.

he deserved it.

"what did you think of rehearsal?" you asked him curiously. "lady macbeth's lines are so funny —"

"they're not funny," megumi disagreed bluntly. he sounded genuine. "you're just immature."

you showed him the strands of his hair that you'd passionately held onto in your pocket.

"say that again," you challenged, brows raised.

he merely swatted your wrist away with a scowl; you pocketed his hair with a shrug.

"as i was saying," you continued, as the two of you exited the school, "the macbeth play isn't gonna have a proper audience anyway, so i'm not too fussed about perfecting lady macbeth's lines. it's gonna be recorded tho! what did you think of it so far?"

megumi narrowed his eyes, the sun peeking out from over the clouds bright enough to blind him momentarily.

"couldn't even hear anything 'cause of the idiot sitting at the back," he told you with a scowl.

you laughed, brows raised in intrigue.

"yeah, they've been here for the past week or so," you informed your friend, chuckling at his sour expression.

"why don't you kick him out?"

"if we were to kick out every single disturbance, you would be sitting outside every day, porcupine."

"i'm not a disturbance."

"your hair is though."

"shut up."

as you neared the bike rack, you spotted yuji and nobara waiting for the two of you by their respective bikes.

yuji's was unmistakably bright — an electric blue frame with neon green accents that megumi thought perfectly screamed his excitable personality, complete with a flashy bell he had been spinning absentmindedly. nobara's, in contrast, was a sleek, matte-black with a subtle crimson stripe running along the frame. as the two of them looked up at your approach, yuji tilted his head with a toothy grin, arm raised in the air, already waving.

megumi believed that your bike stood out against the others, its pastel yellow frame and front basket adorned with a bunch of small, faux daisies that gave it a cheerful, almost whimsical vibe.

he approached his own as the three of you jumped into conversation with one another.

megumi's bike, dark navy and utterly plain, had been parked beside yours — you never failed to remind him how it looked like a sullen counterpart. he didn't care: it was his bike after all, not yours.

"my parents are working late again," yuji added brightly. he was sitting on his bike, waiting for the rest of you to clip on your helmets and do the same. "grandpa's home, and choso's at his place, so we basically have the house to ourselves tonight."

you silently nodded, hanging your bag on the right handlebar.

megumi scowled at nobara, who had seated herself on her bike, discarding her phone in her bag and zipping it up without another word.

"put your helmet on," he demanded her.

she looked up at him with a stony expression, her lips set in a straight line and brows furrowed as though to say 'are you talking to me?'.

"i'm having a bad hair day today —"

yuji frowned, looking bewildered:

"— but your hair looks nice —"

"shut up," snapped nobara, continuing as though you had not laughed loudly at the falter in yuji's bemused smile. you swerved away from his leg when he extended it to kick at your bike. "i'm not gonna make it worse by putting on that helmet."

megumi did not look impressed by her answer, throwing one of his legs over his bike to sit down and unclip his own helmet, glaring at her all the while.

"you're turning into the mermaid —"

"what the hell?" you demanded angrily, gesturing to your own helmet, which was conveniently sitting on your head. "i'm wearing mine!"

megumi's face tightened, jaw tensed as though he were biting back a sharp retort. one hand gripped the handlebar of his bike firmly, while the other toyed with the edge of his helmet, spinning it idly in a way that betrayed his rising frustration.

"i know why you're hesitating to wear yours," you shot back, offended by his jab at you, unprovoked. "it'll flatten down your sea-urchin hair and make you look like your dad —"

"watch it," he warned you icily, a short, clipped exhale leaving his nose as he glanced between you and nobara, his expression a mix of exasperation and resignation, like he'd just resigned to a battle he never wanted to fight in the first place.

the sky stretched above in a pale canvas of soft blues and muted golds, the sun dipping lazily towards the horizon, its warm light spilling across the school front in delicate, golden hues. the four of you had mounted your bikes and had already begun cycling down the road, away from the busy bus route yuji would usually take and down the quiet neighbourhood, away from the loud traffic lights.

wisps of cotton-like clouds floated idly, their edges tinged with blush and amber as the day prepared to give way to the evening the longer the four of you bickered and laughed, simultaneously being wary of the occasional car that would pass by every now and then. the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the crisp, earthy scent of early autumn. your shadows stretched long across the crosswalk, mingling with the sporadic glint of sunlight reflecting off the polished metal frames of your bikes.

"grandpa went to the store the other day," yuji loudly spoke. he was riding his bike beside you while megumi and nobara cycled just ahead. "he bought a bunch of new films for us! we can watch the nun tonight!"

"is it wise to watch a horror movie at your place?" nobara called out, her hair a lighter shade where the sun hit it.

yuji looked bewildered at her question. "but we always watch horror movies at my place..."

"no, she's right!" you added, eyes wide. "what if we accidentally trigger the s word somehow?"

yuji's expression shifted almost comically as the realisation dawned on him, his brows furrowing in confusion before lifting in sudden clarity. he sat upright on his bike, one hand tightening on the handlebars as if steadying himself, while his other hand shot up to nervously scratch the back of his head.

"oi, use both hands," megumi demanded from up front.

yuji silently complied, though his eyes remained glued on you.

"sukuna won't —"

"don't say his name," you hissed, brows furrowed in both anger and panic.

yuji's wide-eyed expression stayed constant as the conversation continued.

"wait, it should be fine, guys," nobara had intervened, one hand holding onto her bike while the other extended itself towards the brooding, dark-haired male cycling beside her. "we have megumi — he's great at protecting us!"

megumi shot her a sharp look as he swatted her hand away. apparently, he did not agree with this idea.

"remember when he pushed su—"

"nobara!"

"— the s word away from us when he said he'd rip our hair out and use them as handcuffs?" she continued, as you cycled behind her with a wariness only the demon could bring out of you. "he comes up with the most creative threats, y'know. sometimes i'm a little impressed, but my hair's too short for handcuffs —"

"he wanted us bald," you reminded her helpfully, "so that means ripping your hair from the roots, which is long enough for handcuffs, paired with mine, too."

"that's irrelevant," said megumi, his hair standing up as the four of you cycled through the breeze. you imagined him looking rather silly from the front, seeing as the back was serving enough laughs out of both you and yuji. "and i can't do much today anyway. after the movie, i have to look over sharmin and miwa's history homework."

you frowned at the back of his head.

"you're doing their homework?" you asked, sounding offended.

"they asked me to look over it before practice today," megumi answered calmly, "but i didn't have time, so i said i'd do it later today and give it back to them tomorrow."

that did not sit right with you, not when megumi always refused to do your homework whenever you asked.

you pedalled faster and slipped in between megumi and nobara, shooting him a look of disapproval.

"any time i ask you to do my homework, you refuse," you told him with a raised brow.

"same goes for them," megumi responded, throwing nobara (who was now behind the two of you) and yuji both a look a warning glance for arguing over nothing loudly. "i'm not doing their homework. i'm looking over it."

you shrugged. "yeah that's what i ask you to do, too."

"no you don't."

"yes i do!"

"you don't."

"i do!"

"you don't," megumi snapped, his patience thin. "you lie about being sick and try to guilt trip me into it —"

"accusations!" you gasped, lifting one hand to point at him dramatically. "false accusations!"

you'd nearly lost your balance on your bike due to how quickly you had sat up and let go of the handlebars. megumi, once again, extended his own arm and directed your bike properly again, but not without clicking his tongue at you in distaste.

"y/n!" nobara called for you from behind.

you looked over your shoulder and then regretted it when megumi flicked your forehead in warning. you turned back around abruptly, narrowing your eyes at him as they watered.

he didn't have to do it so hard, you thought to yourself grumpily.

"nobara, i can't look at you 'cause of the bike police over here —"

"shut up."

despite megumi's harsh criticism, nobara had continued to talk anyway.

"yuji's hair is nothing like miwa's, right?" she said, and you did not have to look back to be aware of yuji's frown of both annoyance and disappointment. "his is like a dull pink —"

yuji did not like that. "hey!"

"miwa's looks better," you responded easily. it hadn't been a difficult decision after all: you remembered the day miwa had walked past the school doors with the long, blue hair that ran past her shoulders and spine. "the blue suits her! and the bangs too!"

"told you," you heard nobara's smug voice add.

"it also matches her eyes," you commented with a smile. "you can't say the same, yuji."

"wha— megumi!" yuji shouted desperately. "help me out!"

you glanced over at megumi's face. he seemed indifferent, as always, but his response had said otherwise.

he had shrugged, relaxed. "they're right."

yuji's wail of misery only had the three of you threatening to leave him behind. he had sulked for a bit, but eventually joined in on the next set of conversations you found yourself immersed in for a portion of the remainder of the journey.

the sun hung low on the horizon, its amber glow spilling across the quiet neighborhood like molten gold. the bungalows stood neatly in rows, their silhouettes softened by the warm, fading light, and the occasional flicker of a porch light hinted at the coming dusk, while the air seemed to grow still, as though welcoming the four of you to yuji's neighbourhood again.

"you can't do it," you told yuji, who had been adamant in showing all of you a trick that choso had taught him on his bike the other day. you threw him a look of disbelief from over your shoulder.

your bike had swerved unexpectedly, and when you turned back around to regain control, you noted that it was megumi, who had his hand on the front of your bike, apparently saving you from having ridden over a large rock in the middle of the road.

"i can!" yuji protested, riding past both you and megumi to keep up with nobara, who had long since ridden ahead. "just watch!"

"don't do it, you idiot," megumi chided, glaring at the back of yuji's pink head.

"but —"

megumi cut across him harshly. "you're gonna fall."

"i won't!" yuji shouted back, eyes wide with exhilaration. "i've done it a hundred times already! just look!"

yuji surged forwards on his bike, his grin brimming with confidence as he positioned himself to attempt the trick. he shifted his weight back, tugging up on the handlebars with a flourish to lift the front wheel off the ground.

for a brief, fleeting moment, the bike wobbled in perfect balance, his exhilarated laughter ringing out in triumph.

but then the balance tipped — too far back — and the wheel slammed down awkwardly.

yuji, unable to steady himself, tumbled sideways onto the road with a loud thud, his limbs sprawling across the sidewalk. his bike clattered noisily beside him, the bell letting out an inadvertent chime as it hit the ground.

the three of you stopped, a beat of stunned silence passing before laughter broke out simultaneously: nobara had doubled over her handlebars, wheezing as she clutched her side, while you clapped a hand over your mouth, struggling to stifle your snickers. even megumi's usual stoic expression cracked slightly, his lips twitching as he muttered something under his breath and shook his head.

yuji groaned dramatically, sprawled out on the concrete road like a tragic hero, but none of you made a move to help him, not even when he asked.

"guys..." he called out weakly, face scrunched in pain. he extended his arm shakily, eyes half-lidded. "help..."

you shot a glance at nobara, holding your breath to try and stop yourself from snorting out another round of laughs, before turning your bike around and cycling away.

"just go, leave him," you hurriedly told her, your legs working quickly on the pedals of your bike.

yuji lifted his head.

she did not hesitate in following suit.

"we warned you!" she called out with a wide grin.

megumi had not said a word as he, too, seemed to agree with the both of you, his feet pressing down on the pedals a little faster.

"go, don't look back," you muttered, kicking off your bikes to continue cycling down the road.

you laughed merrily as his calls of protest grew faint the further you rode away, leaving him to flail on the ground, loudly lamenting his fate.

but of course, you weren't evil — perhaps nobara was, though — for you and megumi had turned on your bikes to get him, and she had been the only one who let out a groan of exhaustion at the mere thought of it.

but the funniest part wasn't the way you'd found yuji lying on the road in the exact same way you'd left him, nor was it the way his eyes had lightened up at the sight of you...

it was how he had remained firm on giving you all the silent treatment the rest of the way to his house, and how he had been struggling to do so, for if anyone was an expert, qualified chatter, it was yuji itadori.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the football field stretched wide under the fading light, its green expanse marked with crisp white lines that gleamed faintly in the late afternoon. you were standing on the bench at the front row, watching the football players dart across the field.

it was jujutsu high's open game for the football team, which (by the school's definition) was a practice session open for the general school public to attend.

your eyes followed the ball as it sailed through the air, a blur of motion intercepted by a leaping player — chad, you noticed with raised brows, as the whistle from coach yaga encouraged the rest of the team to push forward.

your eyes had scoured the players in search of your friends. you couldn't exactly tell who was who because of the uniform and helmet that would conceal both their bodies and their faces, so you could only rely on their player numbers displayed on both the fronts and backs of their jerseys.

player number one — who was currently sprinting alongside massive player number six — was yuji. you never bothered him when he concentrated on the game. you usually saved the disturbance for when he'd done something to piss you off (like intentionally telling your spanish teacher that you deleted duolingo off your phone to spare some storage).

player number two was who you were really looking for, and it only brought a smile to your face when you'd found him — megumi — sprinting the other way.

"you're going the wrong way, megumi!" you helpfully reminded him.

he ignored you, as per usual. but you noticed, with triumph, how his legs had started to slow down.

beneath his helmet, you were certain he was gritting his teeth.

"the ball's that's way!" you called out, one hand cupping the side of your mouth, the other benevolently pointing at player number eight, who was now in possession of the ball. "what are you doing?"

megumi had approached coach yaga, and from where you were stood, accompanied by the chatter of the other onlookers, you could not hear what was being exchanged between the two. the sharp glare that coach yaga had shot you was a lot to go by, however, not that you cared.

you hadn't cared in middle school, you wouldn't care now.

yaga knew that very well.

megumi turned away and had begun jogging towards his teammates again. you shook your head, your foot tapping the metal of the bench impatiently.

"well it's too late for that now!" you told him, tutting in disapproval. "they've gone and scored without you! oh — hi toge!"

player number six, todo, was a towering presence, and you watched as he charged across the field with the ball tucked firmly under his arm, shrugging off attempted tackles like they were nothing more than minor inconveniences. close behind, yuji darted around the defence with his usual agility, his movements quick and unpredictable, drawing shouts of encouragement from somewhere behind you, because — right, that was a thing now — he had gained quite a few admirers over the last week, not that he had been aware of it. the only reason you knew was because of an occasion last week where you and nobara had camped inside a singular stall in the girls' toilets, overhearing a conversation between a few sophomores and juniors.

megumi was now in possession of the ball, and though he wasn't as speedy as yuji, he excelled in the game by being strategic, which compensated for the lack of agility.

he's doing well, you thought to yourself. it was too bad you enjoyed poking fun at him.

you exaggeratedly waved both arms in the air as if directing imaginary traffic, calling out random, unhelpful advice about the game. his head had turned for a fraction of a second, and that had been enough to encourage you to go further.

"quick! the small one's behind you!" you called out, your expression grave. you chuckled when he actually looked over his shoulder. "haha! made you look —"

"— l/n!"

your eyes travelled across the field to meet yaga's, shielded by his sunglasses. he didn't look pleased in the slightest, but he hadn't said anything else when you stared back at him.

your name was his first warning.

you shrugged and turned back to the game, mimicking a referee's whistle sound — poorly, of course — just to see if it would make megumi glance your way again.

it didn't, but you had not missed the way he'd quickened his steps, an act to try and free himself from being forced to listen to your constant shouts and yells.

"megumi! spell red!" you called out to him, your hands cupping your mouth. he turned around and narrowed his eyes at you, a menacing glint circling in each of his irises. "no? okay, i'll do it for you! L — S — T — E — R —"

the field erupted with laughter.

number six, todo, was the first to lose it, nearly doubling over as he slapped his thigh, while yuji could barely stay upright, clutching his sides and wheezing between gasps of air. the entire team seemed to pause, their focus on the game completely derailed, as they recalled the viral meme and the ridiculousness of your performance.

yaga, however, was not amused. he blew his whistle sharply, barking at the players to get back into formation, his forehead veins looking like they might burst at any second.

"keep laughing, and you'll all be running laps until the sun sets!" he roared, but his threats only managed to stifle the laughter into barely concealed snickers. "and you — stop opening that damned mouth of yours!"

meanwhile, megumi shot you a glare so venomous, it could have melted steel. his fists clenched at his sides, and you could see the subtle rise and fall of his shoulders as he tried to rein in his irritation.

"stop," he snapped, his voice dripping with exasperation.

"all right, all right," you sighed, before cupping your mouth again. "spell megumi! T — O — J — Y!"

megumi stood in the centre of the grassy field, arms by his sides, like a child refusing to comply to rules. you could see the way his jaw had clenched at your joke.

he had always had this incessant need to be right. to correct you when you were wrong. to show off his brilliance.

you could see him fighting a losing battle.

"that's not how you spell my dad's name —" he'd started angrily, but the sound of yaga's whistle had cut through anything you had wanted to say in response.

"IS THIS THE SPELLING BEE?" he demanded, irate. "fushiguro!" he'd all but bellowed, teeth gritted. "why are your legs not moving?"

megumi turned to face his teacher.

"she spelled my dad's name wrong —"

"IS YOUR DAD HERE TO BEAR WITNESS?"

"..."

"GET BACK TO YOUR TEAMMATES!"

megumi had made a move to leave, but at the sound of your snickers, he stopped, lifting his arm and pointing it in your direction.

"kick her out," he'd said — correction: demanded — without hesitation.

your mouth fell open in sheer disbelief, arms extended outwards in confusion as you glared at megumi like he'd just committed the ultimate betrayal.

kick you out? the audacity, you mentally marvelled.

you weren't even on the field, which you could've easily invaded if you had wanted to. you were merely offering a bit of moral support (albeit in your own unique, slightly chaotic way).

"that's a breach of my human rights," you alerted both your teacher and your friend. then, you shifted your attention to only coach yaga. "he's not even participating! personally, i think he should be benched!"

"l/n, sit down and SHUT UP!"

"no, seriously!" you insisted, crouching down to untie your shoelaces. "i can replace him on the field!"

megumi turned around again to face you this time. even though his helmet made it hard to see his face properly, you could see the way he'd narrowed his eyes at you. "you don't even know how to play properly —"

"well i'd do a hell of a lot better than what you're doing," you told him, standing up again and folding your arms over your chest. "which is nothing, by the way."

coach yaga had had enough:

"FUSHIGURO, STOP ENGAGING WITH HER AND MOVE UP THE FIELD!"

megumi faced the angry man with, no doubt, a glare of his own. "she's —"

"NOW!" yaga had bellowed, and you could only laugh at the way megumi's fists had clenched, but he'd obediently ran towards the other players (not without shooting you a glower, though).

you chuckled at his reaction, but choked on it when coach yaga had mercilessly turned to you next.

"SIT. DOWN. L/N," he ordered you, the hand holding the whistle lined with angry veins threatening to pop. you could see one on his forehead, too.

you opened your mouth to oppose, but he'd blown his whistle so you couldn't even hear yourself speak.

and this had become a recurring theme.

any time your lips would part — whether to cheer for a play, yell sarcastic advice at megumi, or protest yaga's increasingly dictatorial tone — the sharp, ear-piercing sound of his whistle cut through the air, drowning you out completely. he'd positioned himself nearby, whistle ready at his lips, as though waiting for the exact moment you dared to utter a sound.

you even tried whispering once, only for him to blow it louder than ever, causing you to flinch and clutch your ears.

the message was clear: coach yaga would not tolerate your antics.

but his overzealous whistle-blowing had unintended consequences, ones that had you giggling into your hands.

the players, accustomed to the whistle being a signal for key game instructions, had begun growing confused by the constant interruptions. at one point, both kamo and logan parker hesitated mid-play, unsure whether the sharp whistle had been meant to signal an offside or something else entirely, and this had led to an awkward collision on the field — logal tripping over kamo as the latter tried to pivot too late — and the two of them ended up sprawled in a tangled heap.

and yaga, visibly frustrated by both the situation at hand and the rhythm of your constant laughter, had no choice but to bench them both, muttering something about how some people were ruining his practice.

"your hair's a mess," you told kamo, when he'd approached the bench you were standing on with his helmet beneath his arm.

"thanks, didn't notice," he responded, blowing the loose strands of his hair out of his face.

you eyed him carefully as he sat by your feet, his knees an angry shade of red where he'd fallen due to the collision.

"does that hurt?" you asked, frowning. "you could sue yaga for blowing his whistle and causing confusion."

kamo peered up at you, his elbows resting on his thighs, his back hunched over in such a way that chiropractors would be disappointed by. you couldn't quite paint what he was thinking, for his face, so devoid of any and all emotion, made it so that his lips were set in a straight line and his eyes would remain half-lidded.

"you can!" you continued, as though he'd voiced his uncertainty to you. "and you can show your knees for proof!"

kamo kept his gaze fixed on the game, following the flow of plays that unfolded without him. you couldn't quite paint what he was feeling in that moment, for his expression was a mix of irritation and fatigue as he lazily tossed his helmet to the ground with a dull clatter.

"i'll remember to bring in a formal complaint tomorrow, then," he added, his eyes following player number five, who was in possession of the ball.

"i'll be your backup!" you told him enthusiastically. when he peered up at you, expectant, you clarified yourself. "y'know, for moral support."

"hold my hand and everything?"

you grinned. "all right, don't get ahead of yourself now."

"my bad," he said, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hairs out of his face. his dark hair had been tied back with a flimsy rubber-band into a low, loose bun, which apparently proved worthless in a rough game of football.

at the centre of the field, andre johnson clapped his hands loudly, rallying the players into position as he directed the next play with precision. toge stood further back, his sharp eyes scanning the field, ready to intercept, while todo, living up to his reputation, plowed through the defence like a battering ram, drawing cheers from his teammates.

you felt bad for the players that had ended up on the floor because of his onslaught of attacks.

one of them just so happened to be yuji.

and as you jested loudly at his limp body, todo stared back at him, horrified:

"BROTHER —"

"ooh..." you marvelled, standing on your tip-toes as todo ignored the game altogether and charged the other way. everyone except for megumi had moved out of the way. "might wanna put that one on a leash..."

your eyes had darted from the game to kamo, and back again.

"no offence, kamotionless..."

"none taken."

the two of you watched as megumi extended his hand to your pink-haired, groaning friend on the floor, intrigued as he accepted his help in pulling himself up.

both their heads had turned to face you.

yuji's lips parted in a comical frown, his hand clutching his lower back as he turned to glare at you with all the indignation he could muster. you could only chuckle at him, for his pink hair was dusted with grass and dirt from the collision, and his expression screamed betrayal.

raising one hand, he offered you an exaggerated thumbs-down, shaking it slowly as though to emphasise just how unimpressed he was.

you stared back at him, brow raised as you placed a pointer finger on your chest, mouthing 'me?'.

his exaggerated nod made you scowl at him and look at megumi instead, but his stare wasn't any better, for it had lingered on you longer than necessary: his sharp eyes had darkened as they subtly drifted downwards, his expression tightening ever so slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was irritation or something else entirely.

he was still pissed at your interruption of the game from earlier, clearly, for his stance had been tinged with quiet discontent, as though he'd seen something he didn't quite like.

rude, you thought to yourself, i stopped yelling at him and i'm likeable.

whatever it was, he said nothing, his eyes snapping back to the field with a stoicism that betrayed nothing outwardly.

across the field, yaga's voice thundered over the chaos.

"ITADORI! FUSHIGURO! get back to your positions — NOW!"

yuji jumped slightly at the sheer force of his command, but megumi had barely looked fazed, as though this was a common occurrence during practice.

yuji shot one last mournful look in your direction before jogging into place, his steps a little heavier than before. megumi, on the other hand, walked briskly back into formation, his gaze focused ahead, though the rigid set of his shoulders suggested he wasn't entirely composed. yaga's glare followed them both until they were back in line, his frustration simmering visibly as he blew his whistle to resume the play.

"what's the history with you and coach yaga?" kamo had asked, which had greatly surprised, your brows raised as you stared down at him. he took your silence as a sign to continue. "yuji said you met coach yaga in middle school."

"oh my god," you beamed, hopping off the bench to sit down on it. "i'm so glad you asked!"

you dug into your pocket and retrieved your phone, tapping on it excitedly to pull up the set of images in your camera roll that you'd visit so often, it would never catch dust.

the academic years of twenty-fourteen to twenty-sixteen.

"so i met him in the sixth grade," you explained, selecting an image of him from the time you had unexpectedly pulled your phone out in the middle of the corridor and snapped a headshot. "that's what he looked like back then, so, not that different. still got that weird spiky hairstyle, except it's longer now, but you get the idea."

kamo nodded, his front leaning forward to get a good look at your phone.

"he's angry," he commented idly.

"er... yeah," you confirmed, hesitant. you slowly swiped to the next photo — yaga's realisation of the image being taken. "that's 'cause i took his photo in the middle of the hallway, so..." you shook your head quickly. "but anyway! i met him during our first middle school p.e class. we were playing dodgeball and i was standing at the back to support yuji, even though we'd just met through megumi, but if megumi liked him, then i knew he was good. and then yaga just got mad at me."

kamo watched as you showed him another picture of an angry coach yaga.

"and it was a whole thing," you settled on saying at last. "rest of our time during middle school went by with a theme of pissing yaga off. it's tradition now."

kamo raised a brow, the corner of his lips tugging upwards in mild amusement as he listened.

"sounds like you've had a pretty clear mission since day one," he said, his tone dry but his gaze alight with curiosity. he tilted his head slightly as he regarded the photo on your screen, his hand brushing back a loose strand of hair as he continued. "coach only ever turns red when you're around."

there was no judgment in his voice, just a quiet humour that seemed to match the slight, crooked smile now playing on his face.

without a word, kamo shifted subtly closer to you, leaning in as though to get a better look at the next photo. his arm rested lightly on the bench beside you, and while the movement was casual, the reduced space between you both went unnoticed — or perhaps, just unacknowledged.

you didn't seem to mind at all, and the easy flow of your conversation remained uninterrupted. if anything, the proximity only added to the comfortable rhythm of your storytelling:

"there's actually a legacy," you grinned, swiping several times to get to a particular image. "you know s— mr gojo, miss ieiri, mr nanami, and mr haibara were yaga's students back when they were in school?"

kamo didn't say anything at that. some part of you couldn't blame him, especially when you would constantly spew out nonsense that megumi would immediately shut down in front of everyone.

if you weren't you, you probably wouldn't have believed yourself either.

"at least try to look like you believe me," you scowled.

"no, i do," kamo insisted, though not very convincingly.

"no you don't."

"yeah i don't."

"okay, well, now you will," you stated, showing him the photo you'd been searching for in your packed camera roll.

it was yaga's wedding in january of two-thousand-and-six. you had chosen this particular photo because of the scene in the background: the men you knew dressed sharply in suits and ties, and the women you knew also elegantly adorned in dresses and heels.

"he's married?" kamo asked, looking genuinely surprised. it was the only time you had seen any form of emotion cross his face.

"was married," you corrected him, and then laughed as you zoomed in on his face. "got divorced years ago — look, he's bald!"

as you and kamo continued discussing yaga's wedding, the conversation spiralled into unexpected detail. you pointed out the floral arrangements in the background, commenting on how they looked oddly mismatched with the formal attire of the guests. kamo had raised an eyebrow, countering that maybe yaga had bad taste in decorators. from there, the discussion veered into an animated debate over who had possibly caught the bouquet, with you insisting it was nanami and kamo scoffing at the idea of him even participating.

but just as kamo parted his lips to counter your next argument, yaga's unmistakable voice had cut through the air.

"LOVEBIRDS!" he'd roared, the two of you looking up simultaneously towards the field where yaga stood, hands on his hips, thoroughly exasperated. "FOCUS ON THE GAME, OR LEAVE!"

you pocketed your phone again, glaring at yaga like he'd personally offended you on a cosmic level.

"he's just salty we have luscious hair," you muttered under your breath bitterly. the fact that the entire field had fallen silent didn't deter you from adding more in the slightest. "got a lot of nerve for someone with a wedding album collecting dust..."

unbeknownst to you, chad smirked knowingly, glancing towards kamo with an exaggeratedly teasing expression, waggling his eyebrows as if he'd just uncovered the secret of the universe. kamo, predictably, ignored him entirely, his focus unshaken.

meanwhile, megumi's reaction had been far sharper.

his eyes darted between you and kamo before settling firmly on you, his brow furrowing so deeply it looked like he was judging you for a crime against humanity. his glare lingered, sharp and unyielding, like you'd just desecrated something sacred — which, knowing megumi, might've been the concept of behaving during practice.

"just get him back on the field," he stated firmly, shooting coach yaga a glare.

"kid's right," said yaga, before blowing his whistle again. "KAMO, PARKER — BOTH OF YOU — BACK ON THE FIELD!"

obediently, kamo rose to his feet, brushing off his knees before bending down and retrieving his discarded helmet, and then giving a short, wordless nod to logan parker, who had been waiting nearby.

from the sidelines, yaga's gaze immediately zeroed in on you.

"AND YOU!" he barked, pointing a commanding finger. "stop distracting my players! you've got five seconds to zip it, or you're out of here!" his voice had carried across the field with the same force as his whistle.

you frowned deeply. his reaction felt like an overreaction to you — typical yaga behavior.

but then, the realisation hit you like a sudden spotlight. you glanced at your watch and felt a jolt of panic. you were supposed to stay for only a bit before heading to rehearsal.

"ah, shit! i'm late for rehearsal!" you panicked, hurriedly grabbing your bag and scrambling to leave. the theatre director was definitely not going to forgive you for being late again, especially with the lead role hanging in the balance.

as you ran across the benches, you looked over your shoulder, ignoring the crowd and team laughing at you.

"lady yaga, this is all your fault by the way!"

as you darted towards the building, the teasing chants from the football team had started fading behind you. despite the growing distance between you and them, you could hear yaga cursing you from where he stood, as though he were right next to you.

you were not, however, aware of the two pairs of eyes watching you retreat, one of them mildly amused, the other beyond annoyed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

the cracked pavement beneath satoru's feet echoed faintly as he strolled through the unfamiliar neighbourhood.

during a conversation about toji's dark past, he had showed off to the family about never having stolen anything, as well as never being stolen from, which only resulted in ogi demanding that he walk in a sketchier neighbourhood and see if he could come back saying the same thing.

and he had been confident, of course, as he looked around at the graffiti-covered walls and flickering streetlights, which might have seemed intimidating to anyone else, but he remained blissfully unfazed, humming a tune under his breath.

in one hand, he'd held a slightly squished cupcake, the frosting a little smeared but no less delightful to him. his sunglasses perched jauntily on his nose, and his long strides carried him through the shadows as though the neighbourhood itself were lucky to have him gracing its streets.

...

that had been before he'd found himself trapped in a phone-box, the gang that had caused his sealing surrounding the box in awe.

'we seriously stole the gojo guy's money?'

'aw heck yeah! he's filthy rich, too!'

'look at that sleek, black card!'

'awesome! his phone's the new model as well!'

satoru stared at the gang leader, scowling.

his balaclava had fallen when satoru had thrown a punch at him earlier, exposing his tattooed face, the dark line that crossed his nose and the thin arrowed lines that went down his eyes.

satoru thought he looked silly with those pigtails.

"how much are those glasses?" the leader had asked, throwing his balaclava over his shoulder for one of his minions to scramble for.

satoru, his neck bent in an attempt to not bump his head, flashed him a grin.

"more than you can afford."

the guy gritted his teeth at him. satoru felt satisfaction bloom in his chest at that, but he noted how the tattooed male could be no older than seventeen or eighteen. what the hell was he doing as a leader of a gang?

"but you should probably open the door to try and get them," satoru suggested, bending down a little to meet the kid's face.

"i'm not stupid," the kid scowled. he was bagging all of satoru's expensive belongings right in front of him.

"if you were smart, you wouldn't style your hair like a five year old girl."

"if you were smart, you would dye your hair."

satoru scowled at him. "if you continued your education, you wouldn't need to join a gang for money."

the kid didn't look too pleased with satoru's rapid riposte, for he looked around at his minions, slinging the bag of satoru's possessions over his shoulder, and turning away with a raised brow.

"come and get your stuff," he had challenged the trapped, white-haired male, who could only watch in anger as one of the minions marvelled at his stolen cupcake.

his cupcake.

satoru let out an exaggerated groan, his head lightly thudding against the very top of the glass wall of the phone box as he tilted his chin to the ceiling (that happened to be so very close to his face).

this was beyond annoying; his cupcake was gone, his wallet and phone stolen, and now he was cramped into this tiny, outdated relic of communication...

but then, a flicker of excitement sparked across his face, the edges of his mouth curling upwards.

out of all the traps he could've been stuck in, it had to be a phone box. how retro. how tragically iconic.

with a sigh, he tapped the dusty dial pad, punching in one of the numbers he knew by heart: shoko's.

the faint hum of the dial tone filled the tiny space as he leaned back, arms crossed, waiting with a fading grin to hear her undoubtedly sarcastic greeting.

but it had been taking a while.

"this is such a pain," he grumbled to himself, annoyed.

and then looked up excitedly when her voice sounded through the speaker.

"hello?"

"shoko, i'm trapped in a phone box 'cause some poor kid with his gang jumped me," he explained hurriedly. it wasn't a completely accurate retelling of the story, but it got the main gist of it, and he was punched for time. "i need your help!"

there was a pause. was she seriously contemplating helping him?

"..."

"shoko?"

"hm," she hummed, her voice nasally. it usually got like that when she was working. "have you returned my lighter?"

satoru furrowed his brows. he had never promised to give that back, not when he hated it when she smoked.

"no —"

BEEEEEEP...

she had hung up.

satoru angrily punched in the numbers of another friend, one who had to be more sensible than her.

"hope she has an asthma attack," he cursed quietly, as he expectantly waited for nanami to pick up the phone.

"kento nanami, who's calling?"

as formal as ever; satoru expected no less. had he been in a better predicament, he would have made a joke about it.

"nanami!" he cheered, and then hurriedly got to the point. perhaps he ought to go a different route, if only to avoid the same outcome with smoke-addict-shoko. "remember when i helped you pay for yuu's birthday expenses?"

he heard him let out a breathy sigh from the other end of the call.

"what's this about, gojo?" he asked, sounding exhausted.

satoru explained his situation as best as he could. he had high hopes for this call — nanami was always the serious, sensible one. there was no way he'd turn him down now.

"you're stuck in a phone box with no way out?" he repeated, though even nanami wouldn't be able to fake amusement even if he tried. satoru felt his stomach drop. "what a shame."

BEEEEEEP...

and he was left with that same ringing beep...

no, the next one would work. he was certain of it.

the kfc disagreement might have occurred a year or two ago, but it was all right. satoru knew that.

they were best friends, after all.

he hurriedly pressed suguru's phone number into the dial and waited.

and waited.

and waited...

...and waited...

and then gave up.

i would've picked up his call, he thought to himself bitterly, before dialling the fushiguros' telephone.

he prayed to god that megumi would answer, and not —

"erm... hello!"

you.

he found you funny, a great kid, one to match the zenins' wit in every way. but you could be so very... chatty.

especially when he didn't have the time.

"y/n, i'm trapped in a phone box 'cause of some sketchy kids in a gang," he explained, though something in his gut knew that this was futile, "where's megumi's mom? where's your mom? in the event that she'd even care —"

"my mom is —"

but you had paused, for megumi's voice had entered the line, but distant:

"i know you stole my book, y/n. give it back."

"i didn't — ugh! satoru, i can't talk to you right now 'cause i'm in the middle of making fun of megumi 'cause he said i stole his boring, non-fiction book when i didn't —"

"— yeah i don't give a shit, where's your mom?" he interrupted, because there was only so much he could take.

your gasp on the other end of the line was telling.

and it came as no surprise to him when you hung up as revenge:

"oh you— okay! bye!"

"wait, y/n —"

BEEEEEEP...

"oh for fucks —" he began, but kept his cool as he pictured his wife. his wife who, surely, would help him. she was his only hope at this point, because if not her, then it had to be ogi.

if not her, then it had to be toji.

he shivered at the thought.

he waited for her to pick up.

"hello? who is this?"

he had no time to waste.

there was a long pause after satoru's rushed explanation, the muffled static on the other end of the line filling the silence. he leaned forwards slightly, gripping the receiver, his hope wavering as the seconds stretched on. surely, his wife was gearing up for some clever solution, for she was smart, he remembered that well during high school and college — or at least, that's what he convinced himself of.

then came the sound of her laughter.

it started low, building into something unrestrained and far too amused for his liking.

and before he could say or do anything else, she ended the call with a click, hanging up the phone herself. satoru stood there, staring at the receiver in disbelief, the faint beep of the disconnected line mocking him.

BEEEEEEP...

reluctantly, he had called both ogi and toji next, and each regret stung more than the last. ogi sounded all too pleased by the event, and had hung up to, no doubt, inform everyone he knew of 'the gojo heir' being a victim of mugging.

toji's brutal honesty hit harder.

his voice had been laced with smug amusement, delivering one dismissive insult after another before abruptly cutting the call. by the time the phone clicked silent again, satoru felt something he rarely experienced — genuine, soul-deep irritation.

with a frustrated growl, satoru clenched his fist and swung it towards the glass, the impact reverberating through the phone box.

a sharp crack echoed as small fractures spread across the surface, and a few shards broke loose, tumbling to the ground.

he flexed his fingers, inspecting the streaks of red beginning to stain his knuckles. the sight annoyed him more than the pain — bleeding wasn't part of the plan. still, the partial break in the glass was hopeful, and he prepared himself for another attempt.

as he paused to assess his next move, his gaze caught on a young blonde-haired girl walking along the street nearby. she couldn't have been older than you or megumi, about ten, her small figure striking against the gritty surroundings.

desperation took over as he called out to her, motioning with his uninjured hand. the girl stopped and turned towards him, but her wide, wary eyes said it all — she clearly thought he was some sort of lunatic. satoru would have tried to understand his viewpoint if he wasn't so irritated with his situation.

she hesitated, clutching her backpack tighter, and stared at him as though deciding whether to run or stay.

"you're a pedo!" she'd decided altogether, which only got satoru to clench his jaw at her.

his neck was starting to hurt with how the height of the phone box had bent him at its will.

"i'm not a pedo, and if i was, you'd be safe, you blonde, bob-headed, little shit."

she furrowed her brows at him, but she'd taken several steps closer, which told him that there was a certain level of trust there between them.

"i'm trapped," he explained, for the eighth time. he looked around and saw a discarded hammer on the dusty floor. "get that hammer and pass it to me through the hole i made."

"my mom told me not to speak to strangers," said the child, her white dress notable in comparison to all the dust and dirt surrounding them.

"your mom also left you unattended in this sketchy neighbourhood," said satoru, brows raised. "you think her opinion matters? help me out."

the child still seemed reluctant. satoru groaned loudly.

"i'll buy you a cupcake."

she ran over to the hammer and presented it to him. satoru encouraged her to push it through the hole, but the way she was looking at it made him pause.

and he was right to do so, for she unexpectedly held it over her head, and then slammed it into the glass window, his hands immediately going over his head to prevent the glass from cutting into his face and sensitive areas.

"sick," he marvelled, as she continued to smash up the glass.

and after a little more smashing, she had finally had her fun and handed the hammer over to satoru through a much wider hole.

he took it gratefully, looking down at her through his round glasses with his head tilted.

"might wanna step back, kid," he warned her, before releasing all his pent-up anger on the phone box, enough to smash its front in a way that made it unrecognisable.

he stepped out, throwing the hammer away, leaving it discarded somewhere forgettable behind him.

"i'm getting my stuff back."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the gang gathered around satoru's possessions with wide eyes, each of them marvelling at the loot they'd just stolen. the leader, with a smug grin on his face, rifled through his wallet, fascinated by the sleek, black card inside.

"this guy's loaded," he muttered to himself, feeling more than a little victorious, for there had been four different sleek cards, and he was certain if they chose to rob his house next, they'd find more.

his fingers hovered over satoru's phone, still in pristine condition despite the earlier struggle.

the rest of the gang members, too, admired the items with greedy satisfaction.

but their smugness was short-lived.

in a blur, everything around them seemed to freeze for a moment, only to snap back into chaos. one second, they were standing in the middle of the street, basking in their victory, and the next — a flash of white filled their vision.

it was as if the world had shifted, disorienting them completely. the last thing they saw was satoru's towering presence, the white of his hair and his eyes like blinding light.

then, with only one warning from one of the members ("guys, he's coming! he's coming!"), they found themselves in a dark alley, each of them battered and exhausted, sprawled out on the ground.

the gang leader himself could taste blood in his mouth, his head swimming as he tried to piece together what had just happened in the space of five minutes. his body screamed in pain, the bruises already beginning to form, and his mind struggled to understand the impossible speed of the attack.

they hadn't stood a chance.

satoru stood over him now, his foot casually pressing down on the younger man's face, pinning him to the ground with alarming ease. his grin was feral, manic — a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

his possessions, now securely back in his grasp, were scattered around him, including the cupcake, which he held up to his lips, barely noticing the bloodstained mess of the street around him. his body was tense, like a coiled spring, filled with untamed energy as he looked down at the leader with barely-contained excitement...

there was something unnerving about the way he was smiling — something wild and unhinged, as if the fight, the chase, and the thrill had unlocked something primal within him. he was terrifying, but utterly in control of himself, and the chaos surrounding him.

"heh," he laughed to himself, throwing the bag over his shoulder. "i get why toji used to do this all the time. look at your faces!"

he eyed them all, noticing one thing they all had in common. he laughed loudly.

they were all japanese.

"what is this, the yakuza?" he joked, taking a bite out of his cupcake.

he deserved more sweet treats, he decided. perhaps he would go downtown to treat himself again.

his eyes had landed on the very criminal that had taken his cupcake intentionally. he walked away from the gang leader and bent down to present it to him again.

"want a bite?" he teased.

when he didn't respond, satoru stood up straight again.

"what, you scared?"

but despite asking the question, he didn't wait for a response. instead, he turned around, spotting the little, blonde girl that had helped him out, and walked off without looking back.

"go back to school," he advised them. "you guys are shit criminals."

satoru strolled over to the little blonde girl, who looked up at him expectantly, her bright eyes wide and curious. her expression was a mix of confusion and caution, as though she wasn't quite sure what to make of the strange man who had just singlehandedly obliterated a gang.

satoru, unfazed, reached into his wallet with a casual flick of his wrist, extracting a five-dollar bill. he held it out to her with a grin, his earlier manic energy fading into something far more playful.

"here, kid. get yourself something nice," he said with a wink.

"my name's hana," she told him, taking the bill. "hana kurusu."

he raised his brows at her.

"good to know," he'd said, and without waiting for a reply, turned on his heel, the faintest chuckle escaping his lips as he walked away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: turns out my law exam i told you about went super well (got an A, woohoo!) and i was being dramatic lmao. so half this chapter was scenes i knew you’d be happy with, the other half was a lot of kamo, which i knew a lot of you hate me for, but it had to be done ‘cause i was right about the shit sociology test :/ lmao anyway, this was basically just some filler hahaa (with semi-plot!) 😼

previous chapter :)

next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

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© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

[naurasweetarudesu]

Character Abuse Meme Template x Skarloey Railway

⚠️TW/CW: Blood under the cut!⚠️

Just Skarloey Railway ①-⑥ physically suffered below ⬇️😊💖⬇️

Ever since November 2023(?) I've been drawing this but always delay the next pics and it's just finished now so yeah some of the pics here are old and you can see the gaps between artstyle improvement here. Hehe, i love torturing fictional characters 😈

Individual pictures!

Skarloey: Blindfolded

Wrap up on ribbon or something just like you're a prize a.k.a object to win or given to someone...

Rheneas: Tied up

Someone stole Neas glasses :( Fortunately The Gallant Old Engine are not going to back down that easily (The thief got upperhand tho 😞)

Sir Handel: Scarred

"So you've been hiding all those scars that you got from the Aluminum Works behind that glove? Hey, why are you looking at me like that? Stop it. You know it's your karma."

Peter Sam: Bruised

"Oh, Peter Sam. What did you got yourself into? You know all those 'precious bravery' is gonna get you hurt."

Rusty: Bite Marked

"The big boulder are not going to terrorize us ever again. But did you know if you wander beyond the abandoned new quarry, you'll find hundred of small perfectly shaped boulder that very hungry."

Duncan: Coughing up blood

"What? Aren't you going to beat me up again? Just like the old days on the factory? Sometimes things just never change, huh."

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

so. that was some straight up horror movie shit, huh? for an episode with no daryl or princess i had a surprisingly good time

just gonna do a highlight reel bc it’s so very much past my bedtime

on mobile, can’t do a cut, sorry, etc

spoilers commencingggg

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now:

-HOW THE FUCK ARE THEY GONNA KILL OFF DUNCAN AND ELIJAH (and that one chick, agatha?) IN ONE FELL SWOOP, BUT THEN LET SKYRIM NPC ALDEN SURVIVE?

-that’s some straight up bullshit, man

-fun fact: i 110% forgot that skryim npc alden used to be a negan brony until he talked shit about it in front of negan lol

-anyway, just had to get that off my chest

-negan’s role this entire episode, and actually this entire season so far, is “character with common sense who has been dropped into a scenario where everyone around him is acting like a white person in a horror movie” and it’s very funny

-“so we’re just gonna go /towards/ the screaming, then?” i lol’d

-the cut scenes between Maggie & Others being stuck in a psychological horror film juxtaposed with Carol & The Girls being in a late 90s horse girl adventure movie was very funny

-some of maggie’s scenes straight up freaked me tf out tho, ngl. it felt like that one episode of black mirror, the title of which escapes me and i’m too lazy to look it up, but you know, the one with the people in animal masks chasing the lady?

-it’s actually gonna bother me if i don’t look it up, hold on

-white bear

-anyway

-my face was like this for a good half of the episode:

-the reapers are super fucked up, dude, they legit freak me out. i am looking forward to daryl meeting up with leah and having to be like “oh! so actually you’re an insane person! good to know!”

-the score for the reapers is really good, too. better than the whisperer’s score and that one slapped

-rosita and carol’s interaction was very nice because it was refreshing to have carol interact with other women on the show, and it was also very funny because the entire interaction amounted to: “so i’ve been having some fucked up dreams about abraham” “that sounds unpleasant” “yeah, i think they’re prophetic” “what’s the message?” “who knows? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk why i told you that, lol, anyway, next topic”

-i’m sure that won’t become relevant later

-magna (i remembered her name) hugging carol and carol being like “literally what is happening?” was sweet

-i like, knew that they were gonna have to eat horse at some point, but having them bring the horses back to alexandria all triumphant and smiling, and then immediately cutting to carol slitting one of their throats and crying while covered in blood was -chefs kiss-

-the children were a fucking delight, ofc. hershel jr. is literally mini glenn, i can’t handle it. him and judith have great, adorable chemistry and i want them to be bffs

-(i like how they’re still giving rj one or two word lines bc he’s still a terrible child actor lol)

-did i hit all the parts i cared about?

-oh. i don’t care about gabriel that much (and kind of resent him bc i still don’t understand how rosita could be banging siddiq and then pick fucking gabriel over him, like wtf??) but him being like “god isn’t here anymore” and stabbing that guy was entertaining

-magna telling carol to not give kelly false hope and then carol immediately disregarding that and doing whatever the fuck she wants was very on brand

-anything else?

-probably, but my brain is fried and i’m p sure most of this review is gibberish as is, i don’t need to add any more to it

-i’m really digging s11 so far. gonna need me some princess to balance out the darylrrhea, tho i’m actually anticipating that to be juicy and since i’m avoiding all discourse i might be able to enjoy it anxiety free

-well

-anxiety limited

-i was also thinking about how carol still has leah’s knife. you think there might be a showdown between the two of them? or a “daryl has to pick who to save” sort of situation?

-don’t actually answer that, i don’t want to know

-but also 🤔

-i should really read through this and see if it makes any sense but i’m not gonna. sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

k the end, bye,

-diz

p.s. are they gonna keep dropping episodes a full week in advance? i wasn’t expecting this one to drop today. i saw an article on my fucking chrome homepage (bc ofc i did), otherwise i wouldn’t have even thought to check. don’t they usually drop like the thursday or friday before? i’m getting rly mixed up being a week ahead of the actual air dates. amc premiere is a clusterfuck, but whatever gets me through the season faster i suppose

k the end for real

[stupidocupido]

tous les mêmes

tous les mêmes, a Split (2016) AU. 

Three witches wake up in an unknown place after being attacked by a man. Abused and scared they wait in a locked room for what’s next. The one who took them is not like others, because he is not really one person. Stuck in his body are multiple personalities. All waiting for the worst one to come out...

I came up with this idea about a year ago as a joke during a convo with @/avesatanormalpeoplescareme (gone but not forgotten lol). She actually kinda came up with the ending, so I have to give her credit for that! 

This fic is also published at the archive. 

Warnings: non-con, dubcon, sexual content, kidnapping, violence, stockholm syndrome, told in fragments, christian!reader, virgin!reader

Involves: jim, michael, duncan and xavier (and some more) 

Tous les mêmes 

one Her head is throbbing, her muscles are sore. Her eyes are still closed, she is afraid to open them. There hangs an iron like smell in the air, the air itself is pressing on her loins. Her hand goes to her neck, her fingers automatically close around the silver cross that is hanging there. 

The weak cough that is coming from her left makes her eyes finally snap open. She immediately scans the room for an exit. There is only one, and it is closed. There are no windows either, their light comes from a single fluorescent light bulb on the ceiling. 

It feels like she’s underground, but for all she knows she can be in some sort of garage as well. 

There is another cough, and her eyes finally find the source of it. It is fellow witch Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt. Sitting with her on the bed is Mallory, another witch. She sits up straight now, watching the other girls. 

“Where are we?” Coco asks. 

What a dumb question. As if they’re not locked in the same room. She remembers the attack. There had been a fight, someone had attacked them from behind. Her hand goes automatically to her cheek when she thinks about earlier. Her skin feels painful and is burning. She can feel dried up blood where it hurts. 

The other two girls don’t look too good either. Coco her blonde hair is a mess, her blouse is ripped, and the skin around her left eye is blue. Mallory looks even worse, her lip is split and there is blood beneath her nose. 

Mallory does not ask questions. She places an calming hand on Coco’s trembling shoulders. “That does not matter, what matters is how we get out.” 

“Good, you girls are awake.” 

Three heads turn around to watch where the sound comes from. 

A tall blonde man watches them from the opened door. His grey blouse seems expensive. His hair is kept back with lots of gel. He is the one who attacked him, he is the one who took them. But somehow, he looks different now. 

She doesn’t know what it is. But when his eyes fall into hers, she needs to resist the urge to grab for her necklace. His stare is so intense, almost as if he is trying to find her biggest weakness. She stares back at him, trying to remember his face for when they escape. 

When he looks away, her stomach feels heavy and her head is weirdly light. 

“Don’t bother trying your magic on me. Magic doesn’t work here.” 

He is looking at Mallory’s fists now. 

“You. You seem feisty, I choose you.” 

Mallory is the strongest of the three of them. But without her magic she is just a small girl with not a lot muscle to defend herself from her much taller attacker. The man grabs her, a nasty grin on his handsome face. Mallory struggles, but he is too strong for her. So she screams, the first thing she learned. “Pee yourself! Pee yourself!” 

Coco tries to free Mallory from their kidnapper, but she’s not strong enough. And when the door closes, it’s just the two of them. Coco is trying to get the door open, to save her friend. Her nails are scratching the iron and she’s screaming Mallory’s name. She is still sitting on her bed, frozen and afraid. 

It’s a minute later when the door is smashed open again. Coco falls on the ground. A crying Mallory gets pushed into the room again by their kidnapper. He looks disgusted, Mallory her legs are wet. The door closes with a bang and it’s the three of them again. 

Much later is Coco still holding the crying Mallory. She is stroking her back, whispering words she cannot hear. She feels like she is watching someone else’s tragedy from the rusty bed. And it always had been like this. At the academy where Cordelia only has eyes for her star pupils. 

She is nothing like them, even though she so badly wants to fit in. She is an unusual duck in a group of swans. She belongs in the water; yes. But she does not belong with them. 

two They’re trying to come up with a way to escape without having to use magic. They can be smart, there must be a way to trick their capturer. They had of course tried using magic, but he had not lied. Nothing worked, it seemed all they had now was their fists and intelligence. 

“Maybe we can distract him. If one of us can escape it’ll be enough.” Mallory tries. 

“We don’t know where we are! Maybe we are in the basement of some cult. How can you be so sure there aren’t other doors behind this one?” She shakes her head, there must be another way. 

“Then what do you propose? That we wait around for Cordelia to get us? We may be dead by then.” Coco’s voice is annoyed. She shrugs, she doesn’t know what to do either. But running doesn’t seem like the best option. 

When the door opens again the witches stop their whispering. He is wearing a long black dress now. His hair is styled in a different way. His eyes scan their faces and the way they look. 

“Don’t you kids look awful, oh sweet Satan! I knew he wouldn’t be able to control his urges.” He shakes his head. His voice sounds different than before. It’s higher pitched, it almost has something feminine. 

The three witches share a look, none of them know what is going on. Maybe he is playing with them to confuse them. To make them weaker, to make them easier to take when he is done playing. 

“He knows he is not allowed to touch any of you. I will talk with him.” He shakes his head again. 

Then his eyes fall upon her face. She feels herself getting cold when his eyes are staring her up and down. Is he going to take her now? 

He comes closer, there is concern in his eyes. She can see how Coco and Mallory look at each other and then at the door he had left open. 

He leans down, so that they are on eye level. She does not move away when his hand goes to touch her face. Long fingers trace the cut on her cheek. His fingers are cold against the throbbing skin. His blue eyes are filled with wonder as he leans in closer to examine the wound. “Don’t you worry my dear, I will take care of you.” 

“Who are you?” It’s a way to keep him distracted, but she is also genuinely interested. Why is he acting like he is someone else? 

“Oh, silly, I am Ms. Mead of course.” 

His eyes are so blue, that she is taken back by them. Now his hair is not being kept back by gel, it gives it the chance to be in its natural state. His blonde curls are wild and beautiful. He does not look crazy to her, not like someone who would kidnap three girls. But he knows they have magic, there must be something more. 

There is something about his face that feels familiar. Maybe it is because it straight comes from the paintings how they image heaven to be like. 

He is studying her as she is studying him. There is something about him that is not right. But there is also something that is very right. Something familiar, something that reminds her of Cordelia and nights of studying magic spells. 

“Coco! Run!” 

The spell is broken, he is someone else now. Something changes in his eyes, she can’t exactly pinpoint what it was, but something is different. He stands up so sudden it hurts her head. She scrambles back on the bed, afraid for what he is going to do now. 

But he does nothing, he stays very calm. Too calm. He turns his back on her, facing the opened door where Coco ran through instead. He looks more annoyed than panicked. 

“Did you really think I don’t have this whole place locked down? After every door you will find a new one.” 

A desperate cry is the proof of his words. He leaves the other two witches without giving them another glance. And when the door closes behind him, the echo from Coco’s screams can still be heard in their room much later. 

three “Where is Coco?” Mallory her voice is sharp. He looks more optimistic than normal. He is wearing earrings and shorts now. Another personality? So far, they had met three versions of him. The one who took them, Ms. Mead and now this one. 

He walks towards Mallory, squeezing her cheek. “Coco is where all good girls go to.” His voice is amused. This character seems to be more of a tease than the others. 

“And where do good girls go?” Mallory is not afraid and she damns her for it. Why can’t she be quiet?  He laughs loudly, finally letting go of her cheek. 

“I don’t know, ask Billie Eilish.” 

He looks around the room. “Pff, this place is a mess.” He places his hands on his hips, he is looking at her now. She rolls her eyes, finally showing some sort of emotion. But it is Mallory who once again says something. 

“Didn’t you know that kidnappers don’t hire cleaners?” 

She sends Mallory a look. Does the girl have a death wish? Normally she would understand Mallory’s confidence. She is the future supreme after all. Mallory is popular because she is kind. Confident because she is loved and fearless because she is powerful. But she is none of that right now. 

He looks Mallory up and down, his smile almost mocking her. 

“You all look hungry, let me make you girls a sandwich. The best chef in the world taught me how to do so.” 

He opens the door again, gesturing with his hand that they should follow him. They both stand up from their beds, she walks behind Mallory away from their prison. 

Where their room is dimly lit, the hallways are anything but. The place is sterile, and everything is white. It reminds her of a hospital or maybe even a lab. There are a lot of doors, but none of them indicate Coco’s presence. She wonders if the other witch is still here. She doesn’t want to think about other options. 

The kitchen he leads them to is really messy. But here the floor and walls are white as well. There are again no windows. This makes her think they might be underground after all. However, it is clear that this place is huge. 

He gestures them to sit down at the table. He turns his back on them. He is gathering bread, peanut butter and jam. Her eyes stay on the large knife in his hands. He uses it to put everything on the bread. 

“What is your name?” She breaks the silence. She watches how he cuts the sandwiches in half with the large knife. The chairs they’re sitting on are very uncomfortable. Mallory moves in her chair. She’s watching the knife as well. 

He looks over his shoulder, showing her his white teeth. “Xavier.” 

When he turns his back to the counter, he has two plates in his hands. He had made them peanut jelly sandwiches. She stares at the bread, wondering if it might be poisoned. 

Mallory is the first one to bite into the food. So she follows. Slowly she chews on the bread, it doesn’t taste like it’s poisoned. 

“And?

Do you like it?” He watches them eat. He seems to be impatient for an answer. 

Her and Mallory share a look, before nodding. “It’s delicious, you should become a professional.” She is being truthful; the food is good. But perhaps it is also because it’s the first thing she ate in a while. 

“Neh, I want to be an actor. You girls want another one?” He is looking at their empty plates. 

Mallory smiles very careful. She can see something building in her dark eyes, she is planning something. “That would be amazing, thank you.” 

Xavier moves to the counter again. He takes four slices of bread, throwing them on the cutting board without a care. 

“The trick is to use just a little bit more jelly. And always put it on white bread.” While Xavier is working on the sandwiches, Mallory had stood up from her chair. She is moving quietly away from the table, to stand behind it. 

She makes eye contact with her. Shaking her head, pointing with her head towards the big knife he has in his hand. But Mallory ignores her. Her hands wrap around the chair, pulling it from the ground. 

She throws the chair against his back with all her strength. He falls down against the counter, the knife still in his hand. He lets out a painful gasp. When he turns around, Mallory is throwing her plate in his direction. It hits his chest, it breaks in three pieces when it falls to the ground. 

Mallory wastes no time, sprinting towards the door. It is not locked, but she can see from here that behind the door is another hallway. 

Xavier looks at the door and then at her. His cheeks are flustered with anger. 

“Go to your room.” His voice is murderous, his eyes are flaming. 

“NOW!”

He shouts when she doesn’t move. She is too afraid to not do what he told her to do. So she runs from the kitchen, runs through the white hallways and lets herself fall on her thin mattress. 

There she prays and cries for her sisters. She prays for Mallory to get out and for them to be saved. She prays for Cordelia to find them and for Coco to still be alive. 

It’s hours later that she stops mumbling to her god. Mallory doesn’t return and neither does he to lock the door again. 

With cheeks that are wet and a throat that is sore, she watches how the lights in the halls turn off. Will she ever get out of here? 

four His feet are bare, he is wearing a yellow shirt and his hair is messy. He is sitting in the opened door, watching how she slept. Or more like how she pretended to sleep. 

“What is your name? I am Michael.” He sounds very young, his head is tilted like a dog that is waiting for a treat. 

She tells him her name. He does not stand up, instead he moves his knees to come closer to her. He is holding something in his hands. She can’t see what it is. 

“What is your favourite colour? Mine is red.” She frowns at his question. What does he want? 

“I don’t think I have one.” 

He lets out an annoyed sound. “Who doesn’t have a favourite colour? You’re weird.” She tries not to feel offended, not when he is acting like a young child. But what if he is that young child? What if this is her way out? 

“Michael, how old are you?” 

“Ten, how old are you?” 

She laughs, surprised with his answer. It doesn’t look like he is playing her. He seems to think he really is a ten-year-old boy. 

“A little older than you, I am afraid.” 

“Oh. Will you play a game with me?” He shows her what he had been hiding from her.  It’s a small red racing car. It looks so small in his large hands, it isn’t right. She looks up to watch his face instead. She swallows, her stomach empty, her throat begging for water. But she knows it is better to amuse her captor and his many personalities. 

“I am too thirsty to play games, Michael.” 

She can see something change in his demeanor; like a child who does not get what he wants this grown man is about to cry. She wonders, how can he be so dominating and small at the same time? 

How can he be grown but still look like a child? She grips his hands before he can cry. His eyes immediately go to where she holds him. 

“Maybe you can get me some water? We can play after.” 

But Michael shakes his head, already moving away from her.  “I don’t think Duncan will like that, but maybe Ms. Mead can bring you some.” 

She grabs his arm before he can truly leave her. “We can play later then. Maybe tomorrow night?” 

He looks down at where she is holding him, but when he looks up again, he is smiling. 

“As long as you don’t tell the others I was here!” 

She smiles, letting go off his arm. “It will be our secret.” 

five “How many of you are there?” He had brought a box with toys the next night. She’s sitting on the thin mattress now, he is still on the floor. The cars and the dolls they were playing with long forgotten. 

“About ten. But Duncan and Ms. Mead are the strongest ones.” 

Duncan, Ms. Mead, Xavier, Michael.

That are four, will she ever meet the other six? Does she want to meet the other six? Michael had picked up a game console from the ground. It’s an old Gameboy, she used to own one that looked exactly like this one. 

But Michael doesn’t turn it on to play, instead he is watching her necklace. “Do you believe there is a god?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then you also must believe there is a devil.” She feels uncomfortable, she doesn’t like to think about there being one. 

“I guess there must be evil as well.” 

“He is in us. They’re trying to lure him out. That’s why the three of you were taken. But I won’t let them hurt you! We’re friends now!” 

He is offering her the Gameboy. She can feel her stomach turn over. She thinks everyone has something evil inside of them, but the literal devil? But she nods, taking the game console from Michael. 

“Yes, we are friends.” 

“I don’t think you are a good friend.” A different voice, his smile is even different now. She let’s go of the game console, it falls down to the ground. 

He is eyeing the cross that’s hanging just above her breast like Michael did. 

“I bet you are one of those virgin girls who say they gave themselves to god. But I know you are a freak, ready to be ripped apart.” She knows this personality; it is the one that took them. Duncan, the cocky fuck boy.  If they weren’t captured Madison probably would have liked to fuck him, just to degrade him. 

Her hand goes to the cross hanging just above her breasts, she refuses to answer him.  The steel is warmed by her skin, it feels comfortable in the palm of her hand. A beacon of hope, she does not dare to pray now. But when she is alone, she does. 

“I bet your cunt will be so tight when I take your virginity. I bet you will bleed, I bet you will scream for me.” Duncan comes dangerously close to her bed. She looks away from him, watching her knees, she tries to control her breathing. 

The mattress sinks where he sits on it. She wants to move away from him, but his hand is cupping her cheek, forcing her face in his direction. “Will you be a good Christian girl for me? I can be your god.” 

She moves her head away from him, shifting her body to the other side of the bed. 

“You are no god.” 

It is the first thing she says. It makes Duncan laugh; his body is shaking with it. Duncan his laugh is different from Ms. Mead’s and even Michael’s laugh. He moves closer to her body, gripping her leg. He is too strong for her. 

“No, we are the devil. And right now I want to taste one of god’s fruits.” He pushes her down, she screams. She tries to hit him, but it has no use. She closes her eyes when his hand grabs her breast. She prays to a god, who does not seem to care. Why her? Why was she taken? 

“I bet you like this, I bet this is what you pray for when the door closes.” With his other hand he opens the blouse. Impatient he pulls at the buttons, he almost tears the fabric apart. His cold hand goes into her blouse, his hand is pushed into her bra. His nails press into her flesh when he cups her breast. She cries out in pain, her body struggling against his. 

Duncan his breath is hot against her skin, his hand kneads her breast. She tries to escape, but it has no use. His mouth is placed against the pulse in her throat, he sucks at the skin very lightly. The moan she lets out because of his motions stiffens her. 

And then suddenly he moves away. His breathing is uneven, his hair is a mess. “I am sorry, I am sorry. Please forgive us. He knows he is not allowed to touch you; but sometimes he has urges.” Another personality, she does not know this one yet. 

“Who are you?” She asks, closing the blouse Duncan had opened so forcefully. He gives her a weak smile. 

“Jim.” 

six It is Jim who opens the door the next time and all the times after. She can see it in the way he walks and in the way he smiles. Even his face is softer than the other personalities. Where she tried to manipulate Michael first, she now knows she should try Jim. 

In the beginning he doesn’t talk a lot about himself, but he is very interested in her. Everything she tells him; he seems to care about. Always asking for more and more. From her favourite colour to what she likes to drink before she goes to bed. From her first love to her worst fears. 

She tells him, because there is nothing else to do. She can’t escape him anyway. Whenever she thinks she has a chance, Jim slips away from her. 

Jim only starts telling her more about his past after a few days. He was the first one. The only one. But due to circumstances at home he had turned to drugs. Maybe it was the trauma of having an abusive mother, a father that doesn’t care and a sister that doesn’t understand him what caused all of this. Maybe he took too much drugs and created someone who cares. Someone who understands, someone who will never leave him behind. 

His parents had died during a tragic fire, where their whole house burned to the ground. His sister had decided to leave it all behind. Travelling the world for her to never return. Leaving him alone and unloved. 

She can see him now, alone in a burned house with no one who cares about him. The only one he had was himself, so maybe that is why he decided to create people who would care.

Or maybe all of it is real. Maybe there are personalities trapped inside this man. He did know they were witches. Maybe he is cursed, maybe that is why he took them. Hoping that the three of them could help him to become just Jim again. She doesn’t know why she is here. But what she does know, is that she feels sorry for Jim. 

He needs to be loved; he does not deserve to be sad. 

“All I ever really wanted to do was surf.” His smile is so sad that it burns. It might have been weeks, it might have been just a couple days. But he is all she knows now, the only friendly face, the only one who cares about her. The one who knows what others don’t, and the one who was willing to ask for more. When she is with him, she no longer is just a duck swimming in the same direction as the more majestic swans. With him, she is something entirely rare. He makes her feel like she is like there is no one else like her.  

And when he tells her with eyes filled with years that he wants her to be free, she isn’t so sure if she wants to be. He tells her that he had tried to free them. But when he even thinks about not locking the doors, they take over. 

But the thought alone is enough, he does not want to steal her freedom. He wants her, them, to be free. And she wants that for him as well, she wants him to taste what freedom is. She wants them to taste it together. 

She can heal him; magic can make him whole again. She can make his days bright and they can just do what he always had wanted to do. 

So she is the one to kiss him when he tells her his favourite colour is blue. Long but soft, eager to heal all that once burned with pain. To kiss his aching away and make him forget about the others. Her fingers are digging in his hair, the taste of him on her tongue. He smells like the sea, and it feels like she’s in falling into deep waters. 

They kiss and kiss, until her lips grow sore and her panties are wet. 

When he leaves, she slides the cross between her index and middle finger. Asking god why something forbidden feels so right. 

She thinks of blue and how he described it. How it is the sky and how it is the sea. How it is sadness and how it is honesty. But to her, it is only his eyes. And that might be her new favourite thing. 

seven “I want you to be free, really.” He is grabbing her hand, as if he is afraid his words aren’t enough to convince her. But she doesn’t need much convincing to know that he is being truthful. She moves their intertwined fingers up to her face. She pushes her head against the back of his hand, a small smile is playing on her lips. 

“Maybe we can start small. Why don’t we go to your room?” 

He takes her to the kitchen, her hand in his. He opens the door, behind it there is another hallway. This place is so much like a maze, that she wonders if it was built to keep people in. Maybe it was built to keep them in, but it could also be built to keep him in. 

This hallway is not empty. There are all sorts of electronica lying around. She even spots an ancient computer screen. There are multiple doors here as well, but he is leading them towards the one opposite the door they came from. He does not give her the chance to take the place properly in. He almost seems desperate in his movements. Almost as if he is afraid another personality will take over if he’s not fast enough. 

Behind the second door is grey concrete stairwell that goes up. This place is badly lighted. It reminds her of the stairs that are in underground parking lots. 

It maybe takes them five minutes to reach the top. And at the top there is another closed door. He unlocks that door and when he opens it, her eyes need to adjust to the bright light. 

She knows better to ask what kind of place this is. But it seems like her earlier guesses where right. They are in some sort lab. The third door had led them to some sort of welcoming hall. There is one desk standing in the weird room and it’s empty. Maybe it’s night. She can’t really tell the time anymore. 

The fourth door he opens, leads them finally to his bedroom. 

It’s not a big room. It almost looks like some sort prison cell.  His bed is placed against the concrete wall. There are no windows and the walls are empty. There is a small dresser opposite the bed and there are toys on the floor. They’re Michael’s, she recognized the red car immediately. 

Jim closes the door behind them, she pretends she doesn’t notice that he locks it. 

“They’re still alive.” He suddenly tells her when they sit down on his bed. 

She is ashamed for not asking it herself. She had only been thinking about him and how she could save them. Never thinking about the wellbeing of Mallory and Coco. 

Jim frowns.  “You don’t look happy. They’re kind of your sisters, right?” 

She shakes her head. 

“I don’t think I ever really belonged with them. I love them and they love me. But it’s never as much as they love each other.” 

Jim is silent for a while. She doesn’t mind the silence; she has a lot to think about. Being a witch is everything that her faith taught her to be wrong. So it was real shock for her to discover she actually is what her parents consider a sin. She hasn’t spoken with her parents ever since she moved to New Orleans. The other girls are all that she has left. 

“Maybe we all are just trying to find something to hold onto. You your faith and perhaps the other witches. Me the others inside of me.”  Jim his voice is soft, he is not looking at her, he’s watching the wall. She grabs his hand, forcing his attention on her once again. She let’s go when she has his attention. 

“Do you ever feel alone?” She asks. 

“All the time, even though I never really am. There is no one who can truly understand what it’s like to be me.” 

Her smile is sad, because he is right. She will never understand what it’s like to be him. But in return he will never know how it is to be like her. 

“I feel so empty most of the time, as if something is missing. As if a part of me was taken when I found out I was a witch.” 

“Because of your faith?” He looks at her again. She shrugs, not sure what exactly is what makes her feel like this. 

“I guess so.” 

Jim is silent, when he speaks again his voice is very soft. 

“It feels like you understand me better than anyone else ever has.” He is looking at his knees. His sad tone breaks her heart. She grabs his hand again, her other she brings to his face. She is touching his chin, forcing his head up. 

“Maybe it’s because they never tried to.” She whispers. He opens his mouth to immediately close it again. He leans closer, her hand still on his face. 

There is an urgency in his kiss that never was there before. She doesn’t mind it, welcomes it even. She feels like a walking cliché, but with every kiss he gives her, she wants more. She moves her legs up the bed, allowing him to push her down on it. 

Her hands creep up under the shirt he’s wearing. His skin is smooth beneath her exploring fingers. He almost has no scars. She expected there to be burns, because of the story how his parents had died. But there are none. Maybe he had been safely outside when it had happened. 

He helps her take his shirt off, he throws it next to his bed. She can feel the heat of his skin through her blouse. And it’s not enough, she wants to feel his skin against her own. He is fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. One by one he opens them, exposing her skin to the cold air of his room. 

He kisses her again, leaving wet prints of his lips on her skin. He goes lower and lower, until he is at her pants. When he looks up, she only nods. 

She wiggles from her pants, leaving her in only her underwear. 

Jim does not stare at her body, instead he looks at her face. He places his warm hand on her stomach, he slowly moves it down. He moves his hand until it is between her legs. She feels heated, with him being so close to where no one was before. The only thing between their skin, is the thin cotton of her underwear.

He never loses eye contact. When she doesn’t stop him, he looks away. He starts to rub over her underwear. First only his thumb. But when her body starts to relax, he removes his thumb with index and middle finger. He moves in a slow steady pace, which feels really good. 

She had touched herself before. But being touched by someone else is different. It’s a good different, she decides. But maybe that is because he knows what is doing. Not too much pressure, but he’s also not too soft with her. It’s almost as if he knows exactly what she wants. 

“Oh Jim, it feels so good.” 

He takes this is as an invitation to slide her underwear down her legs. He continues his rubbing, but it feels even better now. His fingers slide easy through her wet folds. It didn’t take him much at all to make her this wet. 

Maybe it is because he is so careful, maybe it is because she’s so turned on, but it doesn’t feel as weird as she thought it would be when he pushes one finger inside of her. 

His finger is obviously larger than hers. At first that’s the only thing she can think of. How it feels to have him inside of her. But when the feeling becomes somewhat normal, she can focus on the pleasure it brings her. 

She doesn’t even really notice he had added a second finger. Her hips move shamelessly into his touch, her soft moans are filling her own ears. She didn’t know she could make sounds like that. But it only feels natural. He is so soft with her, so sweet for her. Her hands grab for the sheets. The cotton clenched in her sweaty fists. The soft moan she lets out sounds like his name, when the feeling of release washes over her. 

His palm is wet because of her, she almost feels ashamed when she sees it. Jim brings his hand to his face, sniffing her scent in. It is a bit weird to her, but in a way it’s also very hot. 

He is pulling his pants down now, exposing the bulge in his boxers. A jolt goes through her body. She did this. She isn’t sure why she likes it so much. Maybe because this means she has as much control over him as he has over her. 

“Lie down.” She orders him. He does what he is told, watching how she is the one exploring his body now. She doesn’t kiss him like he was kissing her, she only gives him a very light touch. Her index finger tracing from beauty mark to beauty mark. When she arrives at his underwear, she looks at him again. 

“Do you want me to touch you there?” 

“Fuck, yes.” 

He pushes his body up so she can remove his underwear. His cock springs free, almost hitting his stomach in the process. She has never seen one this close before. She is fascinated by it. By how soft and vulnerable it looks. She wonders how it feels like. Does she need to be soft with it, or does he prefer someone who is rough? She looks away from it, afraid to make him feel uncomfortable if she stares for too long. 

“Can you show me how to touch you?” Her cheeks grow hot, she feels embarrassed that she has to ask. Jim sits up a little, leaning on one elbow. 

“Give me your hand.” 

He brings her hand to his cock. “Just wrap your hand around it.” He feels warm in her hand, and she likes how it feels. He wraps his hand around hers then. He starts to move their hands down and up. Up and down, down and up. Until they fall in a pace he apparently likes. 

When he removes his hand from hers, she keeps up the pace he had set. She moves her hand like he showed her to do. A bit hesitant at first, but she grows more confident when he lets out a low moan.

She decides to test it a little. She goes a little slower, to go faster again when he lets out another moan. She leans closer to it, so she can place her free hand beneath the moving one. 

With every sound he lets out, she grows more confident. Her hand goes down to cup his balls. She once had one of the witches talk about them and how they should not be forgotten. 

“Stop, or I’ll come.” His voice is sharp, it almost sounds pained. She removes her hands immediately, afraid she did something wrong. 

She turns her head to watch him. When looks up to her it’s as if nothing else really matters anymore. He loves her and she thinks she can love him. They’re all God’s creatures and she was taught to care for them all. She never felt like this before. Is it her wanting to fix him? Or is because she really loves him? And does it really matter? 

“Kiss me.” She doesn’t know what else to say, not when his body is trembling under her touch like this. 

He obeys, he crawls on top of her so he can kiss her. His skin is so hot against hers, it makes her feverish. She wants all of it, she wants to be burned by his skin and touch. She wants to burn to ashes with him. Collided, connected, together forever. She wants all of him, she wants him to have all of her. 

His cock is hard and ready against her stomach, he must want her as badly as she wants him. 

“Jim, I am ready.” 

“Are you sure?” She can feel him against her entrance. And she knows she’s ready for this. She reaches her hands out to touch his face. His beautiful, angelic face. She moves her hands from his face, bringing them slowly to his back. 

“Yes, I want this.” He kisses her again. Her nose, her cheek, her mouth and her throat. She sighs, her finger spread on his skin. He enters her very slowly. He kisses her when she lets out a gasp when he’s fully inside. 

And for a very blissful moment she feels whole again. There is no pain, only a dull ache. The feeling of being one, the feeling of being with someone you love. She never thought she would give herself away in a situation like this. But it is happening right now, and it feels so good. 

Jim his eyes are closed, his body is trying to stay still. His hands are placed on the pillow on both sides of her head. She can see sweat dripping between his furrowed brows. “You feel so good, you’re so tight. Please tell me it does not hurt.” 

Her hands move up, her fingers intertwined with his curls. “No, you feel very good, it does not hurt.” This is all Jim needs to hear to start his movements. 

Tears fall from her eyes, not out of pain but because all the emotions that are swirling around her head. What is she doing? Why is she doing this? But all of her doubts shatter when his hips fall down on hers once again. 

A surprised moan comes out when he hits a spot. She did not expect for it to feel good. “What was that?” He immediately asks, his voice worried. 

“Do that again.” She says breathlessly. 

Jim circles his hips in a way, the thrust harder this time. It hurts a little, but it is not an unpleasant feeling. It reminds her of the feeling that comes with pushing on blue marks. She used to do that a lot when she was younger, the pain it gives is dull enough. Only this feels better, this is the best kind of hurt. 

Her nails are scraping his back. The skin destroyed beneath her nails. Suddenly his movements become rougher, the voice he speaks with now different. 

“I knew you were a freak!” 

This is not Jim, this is someone else. She tries to push him off, but he won’t move. Her nails curl into his skin. “Go away, I don’t want you here.” 

She finally is able to push him of her. He laughs when he falls down on the mattress. She feels dirty, she feels used. But above all of that she’s angry with him for ruining the moment she had with Jim. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your god that you’re a dirty slut.” It’s too much, she had enough of him and his taunting words. 

“You pathetic excuse of a personality, you’re worthless. You’re nothing, no one will miss you when you fall from the light.” 

“You fucking bitch.” Duncan harshly grabs her wrists. His eyes scream murder, but she doesn’t care. She pulls herself from his grip. “I am not scared of you.” 

She spits in his face. A feeling of triumph masters her, when she sees how shocked he looks. 

But then, something changes. 

A low growl breaks from his throat as all the colour is drenched from his face. Veins become visible when his skin grows paler and paler. The lights in the room are flickering, she is getting cold. The blue of his eyes disappears, leaving his eyes black and soulless. She slowly moves away from him, until her back hits the wall. 

He no longer is Duncan, he no longer is like any of the other personalities. He is the demon from all her nightmares. He is the devil, he is all that is evil. She wants to scream, call for her Jim to come back, for any of them to come back. But nothing comes out. Her mouth is opened in a silent scream, when the demon leans closer to her. 

He pushes his nose against her throat, smelling there where her she can feel her own heartbeat. His skin is dry and as cold as ice. His cold hand takes hold of her shoulder to push her down. The scream finally comes out. A raspy sound that does not sound like her own voice. But at least something is coming from her. She screams, but no one can really hear her. 

His claw like hand is placed upon her mouth, silencing her immediately. His body is pressed against hers keeping her in her place. She struggles against him, but it has no use. Behind her is concrete, in front of her is the demon. 

She can’t move, she can’t escape. It’s teeth are scraping against her skin. It’s breathe is hot and stinks of blood. This is the moment she will be killed, she is sure of it. Its mouth is at her ear now. He will rip it off, he will eat her alive. 

The tip of its toxic tongue licks her jaw. A shudder goes through her body because of the sensation. Her nipples harden because of the small gesture. She damns herself for responding to it like she does. Hell will swallow her whole if the demon will not. 

It nips at her skin like she is something sweet that should be savoured. Her back arches when his mouth is at her throat. Her body moves in response, rubbing against the demons. 

Its teeth sink in her skin, she cries out in pain. Blood pours from the wound, wetting her throat, it drips upon the mattress they lie on. It feels strangely good. Maybe it is because she’s close enough to dead to feel heaven. 

She falls down on her back when he leans away from her. Whimpers fall from her mouth, her hands automatically go up to touch the wound. She tries to close it, but she doesn’t think it has any use. He will kill her anyway. She starts to cry; she doesn’t want to die like this. Naked and afraid, eaten alive by a demon. 

He climbs on her, ready to bite again. His hands are placed on both sides of her head. Her own blood drips from his chin on her face when he leans closer to her face. 

He licks the wound he had made and she lets him. This isn’t a terrible way to go. One bite and she will be gone. Her eyes close, tears are still falling from them. Cold hands are wrapped around her throat now. At least she will die loving someone. Jim, Jim, she could not save him. 

Her eyes snap open when the beast let’s out a howling sound. What is she doing? When did she become something helpless, when did she something that no longer craves for control? She always finds a way out, so why doesn’t she find one now? So she pushes back, with all her strength. Until the demon falls on his back and she’s on top. 

She looks down on him. His face is covered in her blood, the flickering lights in the room are mirrored in his black eyes. The veins she can see beneath his skin remind her of storms and their lighting. 

But she sees something else too. He is still Jim, only his face had changed. He may think it’s another personality, she thinks it’s not. It is still him. And she loves her damaged boy. She is a witch and she must be able to tame this demon. She has god on her side, she can cast the evil from this boy. Love will always conquer, good will always win. So she will conquer him, she will defeat evil. 

“You’re not like this. Please listen to me, I know there is good in you.” Her hands are cupping his face and he does not fight her. If he was truly evil, he wouldn’t have allowed her to take control. 

“Please, let me help you. Let me save you.” 

He doesn’t answer her, he grabs her arms instead. He rolls the both of them over. She’s on her back again. She tries to turn them over again, but he pushes his whole body against her. She wiggles, trying to free herself from his weight. But she can’t. 

She wants to believe it still is Jim, but with the way he is watching her it’s hard. Drool leaks from the corners from his mouth, eyes too dark to see real emotion in them. 

He forces her legs open with his knees. Despite the fact he seems to be only hungry for her flesh now, she can still feel how hard he is. His erection is placed against her pelvis. She only has to move her hips a little for him to be between her legs again. 

Tame the beast, conquer the devil. Maybe she feels too much for him to not sin. So she moves her legs, grabs his head and pulls it down. Warm lips meet cold ones, she kisses him until she no longer can taste her own blood in his mouth. 

The demon kisses her back, his sharp teeth clashing with hers. She moves her hand between them, taking hold of his cock. 

She tries to tell herself that all he needs is love, that he just needs to feel warmth. But she is only half convinced it will really work. 

She guides him between her legs, his hips almost move automatically when he is where she wants him. 

He is inside her again, but this time it’s not like the first time. He does not wait for her to adjust, does not ask her if she’s okay. His body is heavy, but his weight is the last thing she thinks about. She knows she has to be gentle, to let him know there is still good in this world. But she really can’t bring herself to do so, not when it feels so good to be like this. She pushes his face away when it leans down closer to hers, instead she pushes her face against his shoulder. 

He moans, he groans, he growls. With every animalistic thrust she feels herself slipping further and further away from all that is good. This is sinning, her body moving with his, the pain it gives turns her on. This is everything god forbade her to ever participate in. Her body is wet with sweat but also her own blood. It makes it easier to slide over his body. Her cheeks are wet with old tears. 

His skin is turning hotter with every thrust, but he is still not her Jim. So she bites him, her teeth piercing through his dry skin. She bites until he bleeds, until she almost chokes on his blood and tears are falling from her eyes again. 

She’s not surprised to be the first one to come, because she knows it’s a sign. She has chosen her faith and she cannot return to anything she had left behind now. She screams Jim’s name when her climax hits. Maybe to taunt the beast, but also because she hopes it will bring him back. 

He pulls out before he can cum inside of her. Instead he spills over her stomach. 

He does not move from her, instead he looks down on her. The demon almost looks amused. It’s teeth are showing when he leans down to touch the damaged skin of her neck. His fingers trace the wound he made, almost as if he wants to make sure it’s real. His fingers go lower and lower, until they’re wrapped around the cross of her necklace. He brings his face closer to hers now. His lips are touching her earlobe. 

“You can’t save us.”  His voice is raspy, low and it gives her goose bumps. It feels like all her hope is gone, as if someone snatched out the fire inside of her. He pulls the necklace from her. The cross hidden in his fist. 

He leaves her naked and alone in his cold bed after. She is trying not to cry when the door closes. 

eight She is alone when she wakes up again. Her body is covered in bruises and the sheets are a brownish red from her blood. Her hand goes to her throat, where she can feel the imprint of his teeth. She is aching everywhere. Her back is hurting, she can barely sit up without wanting to fall down again. 

She whimpers, not wanting to cry again. He didn’t return after he had left her. She wonders if he even is himself again. Maybe he was right after all. There are other personalities, it isn’t it just a disorder. He is cursed, the demon she saw yesterday wasn’t him. Why would it take the necklace? Jim wouldn’t do that. Jim wouldn’t hurt her like the demon did. She is sure of it. 

She feels dirty and used, but most of all she feels something else. She tried so hard to save him. Maybe she needs to save herself first before she can save him. 

She gathers her dirty clothing, putting them on again. When she’s fully dressed, she walks very hesitant towards the door. What will be behind it? Will it even open? 

The door isn’t locked and behind the door is the empty lobby. She starts to walk around, trying to open other doors. But they’re all locked. Except his bedroom and the door they came through yesterday. 

She decides to explore the empty desk that’s standing in the middle of the lobby instead. The papers on the desk tell her that this building belongs to Kineros Robotics. But what’s in a name? She sits down on the chair. The person who normally sits here really has a thing for purple. Because almost every personal item is in that particular colour. She opens one of the drawers and it’s immediately the right one. There is a key that looks like it belongs to the front door. 

Bingo, she can escape. 

But why is she hesitant? Why does she feel like she would betray him if she leaves? Maybe he feels bad about what happened last night. She must find him first. And she must find her sisters, she needs them now more than ever. But she needs him for that as well. He is the only one that knows where they are. 

So she goes downstairs again. But the kitchen is empty. But the door to their hallway is opened, so she goes that way. Maybe he is in her room? 

There is something different. Two doors in the hallway are opened, while the one to her room is closed. There is a blood trail from one room to the other. She slows down her steps. Her gut is telling her to run away right now. To leave him and never look back again. But dumb like she is, she ignores the feeling. She stops when she is in front of the first opened door. 

The first thing she sees is Coco. Her whole body is covered in blood. It looks like she was attacked by a beast. Or a demon. She ignores the voice in her head, slowly she walks closer to the room. She can hear faint sounds now.

The room looks exactly like the one she was being kept in. Her body stiffens when she sees them. He is leaning over Mallory. His hand is in her chest, he pulls her heart from it. She sees how he brings the organ to his mouth, and he bites. 

She backs away from them until her back hits the wall. He is eating her heart like it’s the most delicious thing ever. Mallory’s dark eyes are still opened, staring at Coco’s body next to her. But she is not alive. They both are gone. Her hands grab for something to hold onto, she feels like falling down. Both her hands touch the wall instead. Her heart is beating furiously in her chest. She covers her mouth to let the scream she wants to let out in. She needs to throw up, she can feel the bile coming up. 

The moan that comes from the demon makes her snap out of her panic.  She moves away from them as quietly as she can. Making her way to the kitchen. The only thing she is thinking about is how to get away from here as fast as she can. 

The desk in the lobby is still empty. But she doesn’t waste time. She’s running towards the large door, the key she stole earlier in her left hand. 

The door opens easily and when she is outside, she lets out a breath. It seems to be the end of the day but the sun is still up. She runs from the building, not looking back until she is sure she’s far away from it. When she turns around, she can still read the letters on top of the building. Kineros. 

All she is thinking about, is Cordelia. Her sisters are killed, she needs her supreme now more than ever. 

She asks the first person she sees on the street for their phone. The woman gives her a weird look. Probably because she looks terrible. With shaking fingers, she types in Cordelia’s number. And when she takes the call and hears how the supreme says her own name, the witch finally feels safe again. It’s going to be alright; she’s going to be fine. 

nine Back in Kineros the blonde demon smiles to himself, his face still covered in blood. He is Jim, he is Xavier, he is Duncan and he’s even Ms. Mead. But most importantly, he’s Michael. 

They all are real, really made up by him. He knew he had to do something drastic to lure Cordelia away from the sacred grounds of their New Orleans academy. She would never come to him without a good reason. Cordelia had killed his adoptive mother and he will make sure Cordelia will meet her end. 

Soon there will be no witches left to mess with his devilish plans. He plays with the cross he stole from her. No witches, except her. He will keep this one. Something to bring with him to his new world. Michael will not forget the way she so easily had given him all of her love. He is not without cravings after all. 

But first, destruction. He will kill them all as gruesome as he had killed the other two witches. They will never know what is coming their way…

..............................

pfew, thank you for reading! 

if you speak french, or maybe listen to stromae, the title of the fic already gave away the ending. tous les memes means ‘all the same’. 

shout out to chef bertie, the chef who taught xavier how to make the best sandwiches.

..............................

tags: @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @ccodyferns @thechildofmay @queencocoakimmie @queenie435 @isoldedax @bethskarsgard @littledemondani @theghostoflangdon @boofy1998 @bademliimagnum @gold-dragon-slayer @venusxxlangdon @nana15774 @isoldedax @napping-is-my-favorite @anacerta @vampirefairyestelle @wroteclassicaly @icylangdon @peachesandfern @hecohansen31 @melodylangdon @leatherduncan @michaelsapostle @michael-langdon-appreciation @hadesruinseverything @themiswrites @blakewaterxx @rocketgirl2410 

[duncvns]

Ok hey but you know the scene in stranger things when billy is walking to the pool and all those moms are just thirsting ok imagine that exact thing but the reader is the lifeguard at a private pool for kids with rich parents and she has her sights on Duncan...

okay, i know this has been sitting in my inbox for literal MONTHS but i had too much fun writing this so... enjoy! also this is a little long and i can’t add a cut so im sorry for junking up your dash lol

-

Your whistle blew, shrill and sharp in your ear as it scolded a child running along the base of the pool. The kid looked up at you, pout so evident on her face as she slowed into a walk.

You've been in this tower since noon today and you were only three hours into your shift. Being a lifeguard had to be one of the most painful experiences you've ever had the misfortune of experiencing. You hated kids - they were annoying, smelly, and... soggy, not to mention the neverending fountain of shit that you almost always had to clean if one of them had an 'accident' in the water.

But, you worked at a country club, a noble, uppity one, to be exact. Soccer moms with their designer totes frequented nearly every day during the summer, and if you were lucky, he would show up, his little girl perched on his hip.

You didn't know his name, you didn't even know how old he was, all you knew was that when he sat out in the sun, shirtless and glistening with sweat, you had to cross your legs to alleviate some pressure.

He made your job somewhat easier to sit through, but he didn't know you existed - you were sure of it. He probably had the picture-perfect family, adorable kids and a soccer mom wife who didn't satisfy him in the bedroom.

But you could...

You caught yourself staring down at him, whistle perched between your teeth weakly. Every time he breathed, excitement would stir within you... God, who was this man?

"Hey, goo goo eyes, your shift is over!" One of your co-workers, Chase shouted up at you, his Hollister sunglasses perched on his nose. He was the run of the mill pretty boy who had been trying to make a move on you for months but kept getting turned down. You didn't like boys your age... they fumbled around too much in the bedroom.

"Thank you, Chad." You grabbed your water bottle, heading down the ladder. Chase huffed from behind you, hating how you would always call him Chad when he irked you even in the slightest bit.

"Its Chase."

"I know." You looked over your shoulder to the man, quickly looking back to Chase when his eyes turned to you.

"You know he's like... 30 years old, right? That dude you're drooling over? Plus, he has a kid. And he's divorced!" Chase spoke in a whisper, scolding you for your 'poor' choice in men. You furrowed your eyebrows, peeking over your shoulder once more to look at the handsome stranger.

"He's divorced? What kind of mindless bimbo would divorce him?" You mumbled, chewing lightly on the tip of your whistle as you saw the man stand, taking his daughter in his arms to dry her off. "God, he has no business looking that good while taking care of a baby."

"Do you need to change your panties? Christ - remind me to hit you up when I'm an old man." Chase pulled the whistle from your teeth before ascending the ladder, getting ready for the evening shift.

The man took a towel, wiping the sweat from his brow as he redressed the child in her bathing suit cover. Once again, you caught yourself staring, only looking away in a panic when he locked eyes with you.

You felt giddy as you turned around to head into the locker room, changing so you could finally go home and shower the stink off of you.

"Hey!" You whipped around quickly at the voice, your forehead knocking straight into someone's nose, someone tall. "Ah, fuck!" The man seethed, a bit of laughter in his voice. "You really got me."

"Oops!" You heard a smaller voice- one of a child's. Then you looked up, hand covering your irritated forehead as you locked eyes with icy blues, ones that were unforgiving as they burned into your iris'.

"Shit, I'm uh- I'm sorry. I didn't mean." You looked over to what seemed to be a smaller, more feminine version of himself.

Fuck. The child.

"Fuck! I'm sorry- oh sh- Jesus Christ..." You facepalmed, telling yourself to shut up.

"It's okay. It's nothing she hasn't heard before. I have quite of a potty mouth at home - purely accidental, though." he chuckles nasally, his free hand still pinching his nose. Blood ran down his hand and your heart dropped.

You made his nose bleed.

"FUCK! I mean- crap! Your nose, holy sh- I mean shoot! Let me get you a tissue. Oh, my God I'm so sorry." You scrambled, digging through your pouch into the first aid kit to fish out a small towel. You handed it to him, watching as he replaced his hand with the tissue.

"Is my daddy going to die?" The little girl tried to reach for the towel, eying her father with worry so prominent in her eyes.

"No. Your daddy isn't going to die. He just got a little boo boo, that's all." You placed your hand on her shoulder comfortingly as the man tried to stop the bleeding in his nose.

"Can you take her while I run to the bathroom and clean up? You seem trustworthy enough."

You nodded, dreamily, still dazed from seeing him so close up. You weren't sure if it was the mild head injury making you dizzy or just the sheer attraction you held for this man, but you were weak. "Sure, yeah. I'll try to watch my mouth from now on."

He smiles under the towel, carefully handing over his daughter. "Allison, this is..." He looked back at you. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"My name?"

"Yeah, you're the only person around, aren't you?" You could hear a little laugh that made your heart soar.

"Of course. I'm a dummy..."

"...Your name?" He repeated, causing you to look down in sheer embarrassment.

"Oh! It's Y/N. Sorry." You mumbled, reaching out for the child. "And you're Allison? What a pretty name!"

"Yeah!" She squeaked. "Allison Sh-Shep...ard? Seh-perd? Sea-pard... no. I'm just Allison. Allison S, like a snake!" She giggles, and your heart absolutely melts. She was the cutest little girl - she was her father's reflection.

"Do you know your daddy's name?" You question, hoping to squeeze some information from the child. Allison nodded quickly.

"Mommy calls him Duncan, and when we're alone she calls him a self-cen... centered assho-hole." She rears back, covering her mouth. "Oops! Mommy said not to repeat that to anybody ever! Sorry, red!"

"Red?"

"Yeah, red! Like your pretty bathing suit!" You nod, laughing just a bit before Duncan walks back up to you, his hand landing on your mid-back which caused you to stiffen.

"Sorry about that, I hope Allison wasn't too much of a trouble-maker." He laughs, taking the child in his arm again.

"No, she's adorable. Truly." You cross your hands in front of you, smiling dorkily. "She told me your name is Duncan."

"Oh, right!" He thrusts his hand out to you, for a handshake that you accept. "I'm Duncan Shepherd. Pardon my unprofessionalism."

"Oh, no! It's okay, I promise." His hand wraps around yours, the sheer size of it swallowing yours. He wasn't wearing a wedding ring - good. "You're good..."

Duncan nodded, looking back into your eyes, not speaking. You did the same, just taking in the moment.

"Well, uh. I should probably get home, it's almost her naptime." He looked back down to the ground before he kneeled down to pick something up, your sunglasses. "You dropped these. I was going to give them back to you but instead, I got a bloody nose." He laughed, holding the accessory out to you which you took in your hands.

"Thank you. Once again, I'm so sorry. I can be such a klutz sometimes." You took back the sunglasses, letting your fingers linger over his hand a little longer then what was necessary.

"No problem. I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, I'll see you. Bye Allison! It was so nice to meet you!" The child smiles, before yawning softly.

"Bye, red."

[captainhuggermuggerus]

The Awkward Introduction

You know that part where you go to a new school, or a new school year, or your first job and it's orientation and whoever is in charge says "Stand up and tell us your name and a fact about yourself!" and you're just trying not to die from embarrassment? That's this post.

It never helps that the person asking for all of this is standing there expectantly, usually smiling, usually not seeing anything wrong with this. And they are technically right-there's nothing wrong with it unless you're socially awkward and you call it 'human interaction',

So as far as I'm concerned, this is after the official humiliation, and now you and I are chatting in a corner, or maybe at a table in the cafeteria under the florescent lights that make everything seven shades whiter and doesn't give a real sense of how anyone looks.  But we were both awkward, so we decided to hang together. And you're asking me questions, because for you it's easier to ask then to share your business, and I like that you're giving me a lead as to what it's okay to talk about.

You ask if I have pets, and then I get to tell you about my dogs. The big one is Emily, she's a Black Lab/blue heeler that we got at seven weeks because her owner couldn't deal with her, and Fraiser is my little boy, a Beagle/Chihuahua mix. I have two goats in the back yard, twin sisters, Sadie and Sookie. They are our lawn mowers lol. My sibling has a cat, and our mom has finches.

I'm trying to be an English teacher at VIPKID, even though I already failed the test once, and I'm going to take it again later this week. They let you take it multiple times, like a driving test. I was getting my TPR-Total Physical Response-mixed up. You tap your mouth to say 'listen' and cup your ear for 'repeat', and I didn't use enough props. If I write about that it will be under #VIPKID

The reason for that is that I've worked retail for 14+ years and when our governor issued a stay-at-home order for the Plague, I went on leave. I'm not going back there. I'll figure it out. Everyone thinks I'm balmy. I've been a manager for 4 years, so I make 16.05 an hour. I could move up, easily. Those people though, they don't care if I lie or die or kill my family as long as they get their blood money. I have a feeling working for a crime syndicate would not only be more profitable, but more humane. It also means I am intimately aware of how to steal from retail stores, since I was at the frontline of theft prevention (I ran the electronics departments). I will, at some point, make a master list of how to relieve retail establishments of their inventory without getting caught, a good skill in these times (under the tag #how2stealamillion), as well explaining how it works there for an employee. It's nuts. I may file it under the tag #horror. Not sure yet.

Lord of the Rings and the other works of Tolkien are a special interest of mine, and I reblog a lot of #lotr and #silm, but I will be sharing my opinions and eventually, some fic. I used to be a fanfic author for Criminal Minds on ff.net but I had a really bad depressive episode and never went back. The Silmarillion especially is a mess, and I have a special place in my heart for Rohan.

I'm also, like everyone else, working on original fiction projects, which I cycle between whenever I get bored with one. I may post excerpts. I will be putting it-whichever it I finish first-up on Betabooks for critique. Anything pertaining to them will be under #project followed by a number, such as 1 or 3,

I'm a writer, but like everyone else I'm a reader first and foremost, and I have sadly a lack of access to books. The Most recent thing I've been able to read is Wicked Saints by Emily A. Duncan, which I did enjoy because it was based more on Slavic fantasy than standard European fantasy. I bought it when it first came out because it jumped off the shelf and yelled "BUY ME" and I have no regrets. If I blog about books, it will be under #books, followed by #titleofwork and #nameofauthor.

Another not-so-fun-fact-I suffer from chronic pain and endometriosis. Exercising is hard. Work is hard. Everything is hard. When I blog about that, it will be under #spoonie and possibly #endo if that applies.

I am not 'out' to my mother, a very strict Christian woman of the Protestant persuasion, as bisexual. That is the label with which I have the most comfort, although I have been informed that pansexual is more accurate. I prefer bisexual. If I do talk about it, it will be tagged #bi, whereas issues of gender and sexuality will be #LGBTQA+.

For another fun fact, I've recently become involved in Catholicism, another thing our Protestant mother doesn't approve of and therefore has no idea that I'm involved with. Those posts will be tagged #catholic.

In pursuit of never ever going back to my retail job, I'm also trying to get my chronically pained behind into homesteading. We live on 1.5 acres in north Florida, and I want to grow food. And have chicken. And ducks. I'll tag those disasters as #homesteading.

I cannot cook without causing a problem, which is all fun and games until your sibling the cook comes in and goes "What the actual fuck" and "why did you move all my stuff" and "Please stop." On the rare occasions when I do cook, I will be sharing it under #cooking.

I've taken Norwegian as my language of choice during these times of being cooped up, and will tag those adventures and resources as #langblr

There will be other things, I'm sure, and I've been on Tumblr straight reblogging for years, but I'm going to try to share more of 'me' on here.

Also, I will not tolerate pedophiles, rapists, rape apologists, or other predators of the human race, TERFS, Nazis, or whatever else exclusionary to minorities happens on here. If any of my topics squick you out, just block them! I've had to do the same, many times, and unfollow people for their opinions on, for example, the exclusion of asexuals from LGBTQA+ spaces.

Nice to meet you!

[belovedfinch]

Re-watch of Veronica Mars & Movie

“I used to be cool” -keith   “when” - veronica

lol veronica putting a bong in logan’s locker

“i suddenly feel like I’m in a scene from the outsiders” - wallace

“be cool soda pop” - veronica 

I love that my favourite book is referenced

“the people you love let you down” - veronica

I forgot paris hilton was on veronica mars 

Duncan and his antidepressants and side effects and hallucinations of lily, I never liked duncan but please never go cold turkey off prescribed meds!

the fashion 😂

when veronica was 12 and logan first saw her he said he thought she was hot - love at first sight ? 😜

dude where’s my car joke

“change had a tendency to walk up and punch me in the face” - veronica

you can tell logan is afraid of his dad straight away 

his mum sits on the couch drinking wine while her son is getting belted cool cool cool cool....

Never underestimate the size of my cahoeneys😂Logan is my fav

“what is so great about living?” - Logan

Mac is awesome, I forgot her name was cindy, I named my cat after my favourite barbie doll whose name was Cindy r.i.p beautiful ❤️

“I guess we remember it differently” - Logan, me to my brother about our childhood

leighton meester, monique coleman from high school musical, Adam Scott!

logan put his gum under a chair in the police office! yuck

“there is also a tribe that worships Donald trumps hair” - veronica

“what, did he loose a puka shell?” - weevil about logan😂

when logan starts crying in the lobby after he mistakes his step-sister as his mum😭

meg with her pretty in pink dress up for the 80s valentines day dance and duncan is ducky❤️

I wish my school had an 80s theme dance, but I would be too indecisive about who to go as tbh.

“whoever said it’s a mans world, didn’t know how easy it is to be a girl” - veronica, you can tell a man wrote that line

horned mascot from riverdale - veronica and calls herself betty when she goes to the other school

kinda forgot how relatable veronica is, loner, pushes people away

that black beanie with the flames

the flashbacks or hallucinations that show lily speak to people/mostly veronica, remind me of allison in pretty little liars

aussie guy - from home and away i think

never really liked duncan

logan punching the fbi agent

love how mac and keith both say “earth to mars”

logan step-sister trina when she asks him for money reminds me of my brother

veronica had a slider and so does wallace in the second season, my sister had a purple one and i wanted it so bad

logan’s smirk at veronica when she found his step-sisters boyfriend

wow aaron’s father being an abuser, then himself, glad the cycle stopped with logan

thats amore playing whilst aaron beats up his daughters abusive boyfriend

I always felt bad for leo as much as I love LoVe. Veronica basically just used him

sean from degrassi is on veronica mars

“i like what i see in him when he’s with you” - aaron echolls

I think i could love her plays as veronica stands logan up on his boat

“the thought of you breeding? ugh” - logan to dick

logan’s allergic to shell fish

“All i care about is you” - logan

“just evaporate or something” - logan

why didn’t aaron get rid of the tapes? did he not think someone would find his secret ?

sucks that veronica spent her savings for college on her mum to go to rehab and her mum didn’t even last

logan on the bridge where his mother committed suicide, about to jump

when keith saves veronica from the fridge and his on fire and his in a gurney and says “who’s your daddy?”

I’m glad she realises her mum as much as she loves her she is better off without her, that’s what alcoholics do, they are liars.

“don’t forget about me veronica” - lily

greenhouse academy has the same cliffhanger as season 1 of veronica mars

logan shows up at 3am beat up and framed for stabbing someone, then he hears on the radio that his father killed his girlfriend and that his father was sleeping with her

it’s was always duncan right? breaking up with logan making any excuse, all because you finally find out your not brother and sister. ugh

like logan said everyone in his life was gone, the one person he opened up to. also left him. Not cool veronica

the bus crash reminds me of degrassi

“you must chill” veronica says to a girl that has just lost her father in a bus crash and is being bullied and blamed just because her dad had mental health issues and the good ol sheriff feeds the press that it might have been a suicide attempt

curly dude washed up on the beach with veronicas name on his hand, is that like twin peaks, or the guy in australia that was found on the beach with something on his hand but they he had no ID and all the tags were off his clothes

PLL writers should take notes on veronica mars on how to tie up loose ends

“what conspiracy have you pulled out of your ass today”- logan

“my day is complete veronica mars has accused me of evil” - logan, as he twists the ends of his imaginary moustache

veronica is very selfish if you think about it, she asks for favours all the time from her friends but she is never there to hear their problems, she thinks the world does actually revolve around her.

lol logan in the line-up

eye roll aaron blaming duncan and then saying he snapped

cameo by that chick off of america’s next top model

aaron got a psychology degree in jail lol

omg able coonz dying thinking his only daughter is alive but she got killed and shoved into an ice machine holder thingy at a stingy motel

lol when veronica lays down onto logan thinking its duncan

“3rd wheel beginners guide” - logan

“nobody likes an eager beaver” logan to cassidy, was rob waiting a whole season to make that joke and thats why the nickname beaver was given to him?

singer maybe billy idol?

I feel like megs death was a crappy ending, like did she just die so that once again duncan and veronica are split up because of circumstance and they are star-crossed true lovers (eye roll)

“whats your poison” - veronica (breakfast club reference)

“sorry we are all out of liquid evil” - veronica to logan

michael cera

when logan pretends to get burned by the bible when interning for woody

gia says logan uses humour and sarcasm to something something, dance episode

we used to be friends along time ago, but i haven’t thought of you lately at all

logan not taking any of his fathers bull shitting when he was on trial on the stand

“So, apparently, if you're handsome and famous enough, you can just lie under oath, and that's cool.” - veronica

when woody finds veronica on the computer he is creepy af

can we just talk about how much logan went through and how mentally that would fuck you up, yet he never resorted to violence

“it was worth getting taped to a poll” - wallace

lol veronicas dad when she graduates

dicks “trust me I’m rich” shirt

keith says “Carol channings still alive isn’t she?” and I’m like no she died 6 days ago

season 3 

don’t like the new intro

“Back ups in charge? what about the bitch he’s been seeing” - V

WHY THE F IS KEITH HELPING CASABLANCAS WHEN CASIDY HIS SON RAPED HIS DAMN DAUGHTER

MAC “hey i know that guy’ (wallace)

there is no one else, i only want you - logan

fracking

victoria from twilight is in a sorority

I love when logan comes over for dinner and he just smirks at keith and veronica’s banter

i forgot logan had a brother

lol the clerk calls condoms “raincoats” so does my great aunty

diana from glee is on here

veronica is pretty selfish, like her dad was in a car accident and she is annoyed and disapproving of him having a relatioship , she can’t just trust logan?!? ugh

but for logan to run away from the burning motel, it’s just what douchebag pukashell wearing logan would do, not the actual logan

holy crap veronica was SOO damn lucky logan was there at that moment she would be baled and raped, like is once not enough for gods sake?

guy from the nanny

when logan calls veronica from the other side of the cafeteria and she ignores it and he is basically crying :(

logan and i broke up , “are you okay?” keith, “it was unexpected” -v wtf bitch you didn’t trust him, you had a fight, how was it unexpected

dude from waynes world

I love the hooker story line, max & wendy aww

I’ve always hated maddison far out she is a piece of work

ep13 “where are your heads?” basketball coach, me “Obviously not in the game”

lol how dick locks logan on the balcony

logan is yoshi in mario cart!! so am i

“how is it you have so many friends? you don’t even like people” v to l

Lafayette from true blood is a child solider

why did logan invite parker to be with him over break when he obviously wasn’t happy or didn’t want her to go, was it just to prove veronica wrong that “that’s just the way he is” like v said is true, to prove that he has changed.

like it just seems logan and veronica are denying their feelings for each other

that writer from once upon a time is in here, he is in everything

mars uses venus razor

oh the logan piz fight…

such a crap ending to an amazing show

movie

I just love the scene where logan is leaning up against the car like jake from 16 candles (i did post a comparison of the two ages ago)

I like how logan went out with the crazy chic, he was so nonchalant about it, because he wanted to pay veronica back for coming back to neptune when he called even though they hadn’t spoken like 10 years.

kind upset that it wasn’t leighton meester that played carrie

comeback always

logan isn’t supposed to remember the epic quote because he was drunk?

I have so much love for logan, I relate to him so much and it was honestly the best day of my life when I met Jason ( i also met percy and michael) he was so kind to me and I gave him a letter I had written and he was just so down to earth.

How else is pumped for the return?!? 

[soicanhaveitlater]

Macbeth

(sorry this is terrible - it’s ages since I read Macbeth and I did this in five minutes)

@wisecrownvoid

Right so these scottish peeps are fighting and shit, and then one of them, macbeth, who is a straight up twunk, is like the best at fighting. and he’s riding home with his bro (no homo) and there are these three ugly ass bitches? and they’re all like “yo massy b, your ass is gone be king of scotland and rule some other shit” and he’s like “sweet”. but THEN they straight up turn to his friend and be like “also ur son is gonna be king to lol”.

and then our homeboy mac texts his wife like ‘yo imma be king lmao’ bc the current king has just made his ass the ruler of the other shit the witches mentioned. and his wife is all like “ok. time to turn evil and force my husband to straight up stab a bitch. clearly the only logical thing to do here” and she does this whole evil speech and shit. but mac isn’t totally down for murder, so she slaps him and kinda basically says “don’t be such a winy pissbaby. just do it”

and so he does(he probs takes some drugs bc he sees some floating shit but we’re not gonna get into that rn)

and he blames the guards and then everyone make him king of scotland!!! YAY!!!!

and it all would have been fine if he had just LEFT SHIT ALONE

but he didn’t. and so now the old king’s son was like “fuck this shit I’m out” and runs away and shit. and macc remembers that other thing the witches said about his bff’s son being king and he goes “HELL NO” and murders his best friend. (the kid escapes)

his best friend is understandably pissed and he just strolls into king mac’s feast like “wtf bro. why would you kill me” and mac’s freaking out and shit and his wife covers for him like “he’s stressed and shit I guess?” and slaps him like a good wife.

anyway then mac murders a family. and the dad, our guy duncan donuts, is like “no. you can’t do that” but mac isn’t listening lalalalalalalalalala la.

and he’s gettin’ power hungry and shit and he thinks everyone is tryna kill him (they are) and so he find the witches and asks for help and they just??? kinda??? tell it to him in a really cryptic way??? that makes him go “thanks lads I guess I’m invincible. Trees can’t move and shot and every guy is born haha. thanks bros”

meanwhile his wife starts seen blood on her hands and shit and nobody does anything

but duncs is plotting and shit and he shows up with a huge mcfucking army and they say ‘the best came is moving trees. nothing unusual about that at all” and they show up to the palace and the guards are like ??? and so they tell mcB and he’s like “…………………..shit”

and then there’s a huge battle and the old prince (who left) dies i think? and everyone’s dead except duncan and macbeth and mac goes “you can’t kill me! You were born!”

and duncan says “nah motherfucker. I was born by c-section. SCIENCE BITCH!”

and macB goes “shit u right” and lets duncs kill him.

and then banquo’s son gets to be king and shit. yay.

[cactuarkitty]

Random DA:O Thoughts - Pt 11.

I finally did the opinions and I care about you talks with Alistair, and SAVED :O haha I’ve been watching them multiple times then loading so I hadn’t locked it in yet. It’s official; Norua and Alistair are a couple. <3

God I love him. You know how much I love him? Enough to travel to several merchants so he’d have matching silverite armour. I’m sorry but I’m not going to have him in a silverite breast plate with red steel gloves and boots. :P

I gave Al the locket. The only thing that changed with giving him the locket after saving the Arl, was that he said he’d have to talk to him once he saw him again. Instead of saying he’d have to talk to him if he survived.

Haha Leliana complemented Morrigan on her boobs. She wants to go shopping with her. She’s so sweet ^^

Leliana is obsessed with shoes. I love that!

(continued from Part 10 about the Sacred Ashes quest) There was a dragon egg, I got so excited haha. Thought I’d get a dragon. But nope, just a necklace and something else inside it. Can’t even use the necklace cause it’s for a blood mage.

Dragon! arrrggghhh!

Tried to fight the dragon. Got it’s health half down then it ate me. Should have listened to Alistair’s warning lol.

Into the main temple now. :D

The guardian knight is cool! He had comments to say on all of us.

Poor Alistair wishes he could have gone to the battle to protect Duncan, and would have died instead. :( That makes me so sad! I’m hoping at some point I find something to give to him that’d remind him of Duncan. I might need to buy that dlc.

Leliana’s was quite brutal. Wynne’s wasn’t as bad.

This test reminds me heaps of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade haha.

All the riddles were cool. :) There was a guy named Thane.

Man Jowan is everywhere! Now he’s haunting me as a spirit.

Holy crap I have to fight myself :/ died twice. Fighting myself is hard. Beat her on the 3rd try. I targeted her first since she was blasting us with her spells. Damn you, Norua!

Had to do a cool bridge puzzle, where you had to step on stones to activate the bridge pieces. You would need to leave one character on a stone then swap between characters to move them as well. Cracked me up when I discovered the key to the puzzle with Alistair cause he was super excited!

Omg they made us take all our clothes off! XD ahahaha. We had to walk through the fire.

Found the ashes! Wow I’m so impressed with this quest. It had a lot of depth. The Knight guard said we were worthy, so I took a pinch of the ashes. Apparently you can defile the ashes. I never came across the guy who asks you to do that though. Just made me think of the warden grabbing a handful haha.

Brother Genitivi wants to spread the word of the ashes. I said it probably wasn’t a good idea. All companions agreed with me, especially Alistair who was sarcastic and said “Like the urn has a never ending supply of ashes?”. I decided to kill him which I immediately regretted lol. She threw a freaking dagger straight into his skull :O It was so gross! Al didn’t lose points, but Wynne and Leliana did. I decided to load and picked the “Okay but if it goes wrong it’s your fault” option haha.

Went straight to Redcliffe Castle after to save the Arl. I’m glad we were able to help him. He thought the whole thing was a dream. As a reward he made us champions or something. Then he proposed a land meet (I’ve heard of that before I think). I told him to hand Jowan over to the circle. Not sure what will happen to him. Oh yeah also he wants Alistair to be King. Every single time it is brought up, Al is adament he doesn’t WANT to be king. So I’m not going to push him.

In Denerim again now just doing a bunch of sidequests. Also will take Al to see his sister.

So the drake scales are for a guy named Wade. I went away and did a bunch of back alley side quests then it was done. He is so funny! “Yooou MUST bring me mooore drake scaaales!”

Al said he had a golem doll when he was young from a shop called The Wonders of Thedas. Thought I could get him one but nope. Sucky!

Omg Al’s Sister is such a cow! Poor Alistair. I even said he could give her money. She didn’t say thanks. Just kept going on about how he was a prince and he should give her more money blah blah blah. That he killed her mum. What the fuck! He was a BABY! I’m so mad! I said to her: “That’s hardly his fault!” then she called me a tart or something. Al was like: “Hey don’t speak to her like that!” Can’t believe I wasted 15 gold on her.

Outside now. Poor guy. I saw that hardening option but yeah, I picked to tell him that he doesn’t need her, that people care about him. He said the only one who cared about him was Duncan, to which I said: “I care about you” :)

Bought a new staff. It’s really cool! Literally haha. Has an ice enchantment on it. Love it! Also bought a new robe. I love shopping in games!

Wynne loves doggo :) they have cute convos.

Omg after Al said thanks for helping with his sis (well for being there for him) he told me he loves me. Squuueeeeeee!! <3

Back at camp. A cutscene automatically began. Al awkwardly asking if he can spend the night together in the tent. Yes! I’m so happy. I headcanon Norua as a virgin too cause she spent her life in the tower when she was very young. Plus it wasn’t something she thought of that much, she was too interested in her magic studies. When she did, she’d always dreamed of waiting for the right guy. Anyway I’m glad I waited for Alistair to make the first move. Also I’m soo happy it wasn’t right before some big battle. I kinda get sick of that sometimes. How they only have sex right before the “we might die” mission. It was magical and beautiful <3 I’ve watched it about 20 times now haha. It sucked tho cause the kiss scene before the love scene was glitched. Al was rubbing his hands in front of the fire and Norua was kissing the air lol. I think it’s the digital copy cause I loaded and redid it many times and it still happened. Oh well! Then after the love scene he said what if people talked, to which i replied if they did I’d feed them to the darkspawn myself. He said: “SEE! This is why I love you!” hehehe. Then he told her again he loved her again. He’s such a sweetheart.

Did anyone else keep Alistair’s original shield and sword? They take up room but I can’t bring myself to sell them. I feel like they’d mean something to him. His shield he received when he was training to be a templar, and the sword he received when he became a grey warden. Maybe he wouldn’t use them anymore but they’d have meaning to him.

Now that Al said he loves me, he says: “Something you need, my dear?” when you talk to him. So cute!

Doing the back alleys is good for money.

Spoke to a hooded courier, all he said was: “Our good friendship is guaranteed.” Who the hell is this guy?

Okay haha I worked it out. It’s a quest with the Blackstone Irregulars.

It’s strange but I can go back into Goldanna’s house, she’s cleaning the floor. I wonder if her name has meaning… cause she’s a gold digger.

Lol Sten said Ferelden smelled like a wet dog. So I said: “Don’t forget the garbage” and he said: “Ah don’t remind me” hehe.

Killed Flemeth. Whoa she was hard. I was THIS close to dying. I literally had a slither left of health and so did she. I’m so glad I didn’t die cause that would have been sooo annoying!!

Aww Morrigan is my friend :) It was a nice chat. She said she might not always prove worthy of the friendship but she would always value it.

Doing the wardens keep dlc now. Soldiers peak is creepy! It was a fun and kinda shocking quest. Now I have a party chest! Thank the Maker!

I had a star metal sword made for Al called Starfang. Looks awesome!!