#I FOUND HER NAME IN A REVIEW I DON'T KNOW HER KID'S NAME SO I MADE IT UP | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ofoceansandtombsanew · 10 months

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i cherish you, halcyon days (gojou satoru x reader)

“you’re gonna die, kid. in the worst way possible. but because i like you so much, i’ll let you ask three questions about it.” you’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. you’re 17 when you realize who your killer will be. and you’re a day away from turning 19 when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

tags: gn!reader, annoyance to friends to lovers, you and gojou share a birthday month and you're not amused, it's canon that jujutsu school curriculum last 4 years so don't say nothin' when i mention 4th year students, now a multi-chaptered fic read here

[2005. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College ー 1st year]

Do you like Gojou Satoru?

If someone were to ask you that, you would have to answer ‘no’. You’d answer ‘no’ even if no one asked. Gojou Satoru is impossible for you to like from his stupid sunglasses to his shit-eating grins. Even worse is his arrogance. It’s only an additional sprinkle of salt in the wound when you found out later in the year that he was rich, part of some big name clan in the world of jujutsu you yourself were only scouted into.

I don’t like him at all.

You’re the odd man out in your class, though. Despite your less than stellar review of the boy, your classmates, Suguru and Shoko, got along just fine with him.

To spite you even further, it seemed the universe enjoyed pinning the two of you together as well.

It wasn’t enough for the universe to have you both in the same school, year and class. No, you even shared a birthday month.

Gojou’s December 7th to your December 9th.

The week of your shared births, Gojou was especially intolerable. “You’re the baby of the class,” he’d taunt gleefully like he wasn’t only two days older than you.

To cut on time and effort, your teacher and classmates decided that from 1st year on, December 8th would be the day both of your birthdays were celebrated. And thus, December 8th was 'Satoru and [First] Day'. Your cake was his cake and present unwrapping was a joint activity.

By the gods, I wanna punch him so much.

At the very least, you can rest easy in knowing the fact that the feelings of dislike are mutual.

Gojou Satoru is strong, it’s an irrefutable fact no matter how much you’d like to deny it. He’s strong and in turn, the strong are the only ones Gojou respects. You apparently don’t make the cut.

And that’s fine. Strength came in all sorts of ways. You disliked Gojou Satoru but you could live with the fact that, at the very least, you were going to be stuck together for four years. Because even if he was strong, life sometimes paid you back with small moments of grace where someone put the golden boy of the Gojou Clan in his place.

You thought it was one of those days when you met Takamatsu Akira. It was a week before your birthday when he told you were going to die.

You raise an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, “who?” It’s lunch at Jujutsu Tech and you’re eating with your classmates when Shoko name dropped a person you never heard of. “Never heard of ‘em.”

“He’s a sorcerer that can see glimpses of a person’s future when he looks at them,” Suguru answers in her stead over a sip of his oi ocha. “He’s apparently at the school today for some sort of meeting.

"Hands off the goods," your eyes widen in amazement as you quickly smack away Gojou’s hand from your lunch. “Really? And it’s all accurate too?”

“He’s a major asshole, though,” the white-haired boy hisses with a pout. You roll your eyes. I’m not sure how reliable your words are if you of all people are calling someone an asshole. Your incredulousness must show on your face because Gojou’s next words are, “seriously! He only tells people he thinks have interesting futures anything about it.”

“And?”

“Satoru’s just mad because apparently his future isn’t interesting,” Suguru smirks, smugly welcoming his best friend’s unamused side eye. “He told me about mine though.”

You bite back a snort when your curiosity to know Suguru's fortune wins. “What did he say about it?”

Suguru touched his chin thoughtfully, recalling back the day he met the seer. “He said that one day I’ll be stuck at a crossroads between two paths and make a life changing decision,” he pauses dramatically and you lean forward in anticipation. “That’s all he told me though.”

Damn it.

The brown-eyed boy chuckles but he shoots you a look of amused sympathy, “he never really tells you too much about it apparently. I was disappointed too.”

“Did he ever tell you anything about your future, Shoko?” You ask your class’ resident slacker.

Shoko shook her head, bob gently moving with her. “I’m one of the boring ones too,” she says with a lazy wave of her hand. “Like Gojou.”

“Don’t worry, my friends,” Suguru places a hand over his chest and bows with far too much grace and humility. “I alone will shoulder the burden of having an interesting future. Unlike Satoru.”

You choke, unable to stop yourself from chortling this time. Whatever Gojou sputters in his self-defense, you don’t hear it over the sound of your own laughter. “Maybe he’ll tell me about my future too,” you sigh when your giggles subside. You sincerely doubt it, but it’s fun to think about the possibilities. I want an interesting life plot twist, like the reveal I’m actually a long-lost member of some royal family he just won’t tell me which one.

“He’ll probably stop by because you’re here,” Shoko rests her chin on her palm. You were the newest in your class, starting a month later than the rest. “He likes seeing if new students will have interesting futures ahead of them.”

“Don’t get too excited, [First],” Gojou quickly rains on your parade with a lot of arrogance for someone whose future is apparently so boring a seer won’t even talk to him about it. “I’m the most interesting person in this place and he won’t even talk to me. So who knows what sort of reaction you’ll get.”

“Oh quit being bitter that your future is gonna be boring, asshole,” before any other quips and gripes can be exchanged, the class door slides open abruptly. You look over with a start, wondering if it’s your teacher when you see it isn’t. The man is a bit younger than Yaga but his hair is already graying and his eyes are a deep green reminiscent of pine trees. You have a feeling you already know who it is and grin. “You wouldn’t happen to be Takamatsu Akira, would you? Gojou here was telling me about his boring future soー” you stop yourself with a shudder when you blinked and realized that man was in front of your face and much too close for comfort.

“Now that is something,” the man blinks owlishly, eyes almost glowing in his amazement.

Your discomfort flies away faster than a seagull with someone else’s lunch, “really?”

The man leans back with a grin and a snap of his fingers, “really, really.”

With that you look at Gojou and stick out your tongue and he sticks his tongue in return.

[First] 1, Gojou 0.

Suguru chuckles and Shoko grins and all the while, Gojou Satoru flicks your forehead too quickly for you to react. “Look, hater, it isn’t my fault that your future’s boring, quit trying to rain on my parade,” you snicker, batting your eyelashes. “Mr. Takamatsu, I’d really appreciate it if you could tell me about my future if you don’t mind. Before the naysayers get more butthurt than they already are.”

“You’re gonna die, kid.”

With four words, your blood freezes and you find yourself blinking once, twice slowly. It’s the matching looks of shock and surprise on your classmates' faces that tells you you heard Takamatsu correctly. Stiffly, you look back at the seer hoping for that revelation to be nothing but a joke, but instead you find yourself looking at a maniacal grin. That grin feels more like a knife in your gut. “In the worst way possible.”

The knife sinks deeper into your flesh, twisting.

“Hey,” out of the four of you, Gojou is the one who finds his voice first.

Takamatsu ignores the boy with snow white hair as if he’s nothing but a minor breeze, “But,” he beams like he’s only told you that he found a discount at the convenience store. “Because I like you so much, I’ll let you ask three questions about it.”

“O-okay,” you stammer almost instinctively. Like a zombie, you find yourself stumbling onto your feet and Takamatsu nods at the door. These answers will be for you and you alone. You aren’t sure what expression you wear on your face as you exit, nor the expressions of your peers. You can't bring yourself to look at them as you follow the future-seeing sorcerer into the halls of your school.

I’m going to die.

In the worst way possible.

It’s only once you’re relatively alone that the seer halts his walking in the middle of the hall to look at you. “Feel free to ask your questions,” he tells you. “Your classmates shouldn’t be able to hear, even if they keep looking out the door. So ask away,” he reassures you, waving his hand nonchalantly.

You glance to your left and sure enough there are three heads leaning out of the door, staring straight at you both. You can’t bring yourself to smile reassuringly before you return your gaze to the sorcerer in front of you.

Three questions.

Your first question can only be so obvious. “Howー how do I die?”

Takamatsu’s amusement is sapped from his face at that question. “Really?” He yawns with a shake of his head. “That’s what you’re going to ask? That’s quite boring.”

Boring? Boring?! It’s my life! “Yeah but-”

“You know what, fine,” Takamatsu sighs, crossing his arms. He recalls his vision in his mind for a moment before he opens his lips. “You’re going to be killed by someone precious to you. Ask me something more… riveting this time.”

You blink slowly.

You’re going to be killed by someone you care about.

When do I die?

Was it an accident?

On purpose?

Why would they want to kill me?

You don’t think those are questions Takamatsu will find intriguing in the slightest. In a panic, you ask the most original question that enters your brain. “Do I die… angry at them?” No. Fucking. Shit, me. “Wait, that was dumb don’t answer th-”

“Nope, it counts,” Takamatsu clicks his tongue. Maybe it’s payback for your first question being so predictable and unoriginal. “And my answer for that is no. Your heart will surprisingly bear no anger towards the person who kills you.” A revelation that shakes you to the core. “Well, one question left to go, kid. No more mess ups, I’ll take it even if it’s something as a dumb as a repeat question.”

“Okay, okay,” you exhale nervously, biting your lip. I need to think.

You know yourself.

You’re selfish at times, who isn’t? If it really came down to it though, you know you’d always put someone else’s life over your own. You can talk big, you can snort when you watch a movie and say ‘yeah sorry, they’d be stuck on their own. I’m not dying in a situation like that, I’d wanna go home’. But you know yourself enough to know that despite thinking it, your feet would inevitably turn towards the other person. Maybe you’d die in the end but you know you’d try your damnedest to get them out.

Why else would you put yourself on the line fighting curses?

But I’d like to think that in a life or death fight where it’s me or them, I’d choose me. You shake your head pushing the thought to the side. You almost forgot the most important detail. Your killer will be someone who matters to you. But I won’t be mad about it. If it was life or death, I’d choose me. I know that. Stranger on the street or a lifelong sworn enemy. And I know if I was killed by someone, I’d definitely be bitter about it. I’m not that forgiving.

Future you isn’t in agreement. Your eyes turn to the ground.

Is it a life or death fight situation or an accident? You open your mouth briefly before closing it again.

They’re precious to me.

They’re someone I care about.

But I won’t be angry.

I mustn’t have been trying that hard then, you wet your lips as a light bulb flickers deeply in the recesses of your mind. You couldn’t have been. How else could your future self’s lack of anger be justified? One day, there will be someone you care for so greatly that even in a life or death battle, you’d still choose them.

You raise your head to look into dark green eyes dancing with amusement, a grin accompanying them. The grin morphs from clear to distorted at the welling of tears in your eyes. I wasn’t trying. “I must really love this person, don’t I?”

Takamatsu's grin grows even wider, eyes flashing in pleasant surprise. “Yeah,” he leans against the wall, crossing his arms. “It seems like you do.”

Tears roll down your cheeks like streams into a river yet your arms hang loosely at your side. “That’s three questions then,” you murmur, throat constricting. You inhale slowly, hold your breath and release before wiping your eyes. “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Takamatsu. Lunch is gonna be over soon, so I’m gonna go finish eating now.”

You bow before turning on your heel back to your class, your classmates are still there. You don’t really care to receive their pity or empathy.

“I’m gonna die, it’s gonna suck and that’s all he really told me,” you say before anyone can ask. You bite into your egg harshly.

It’s hours after classes have ended for the day and you’re cooking in the communal kitchen when you see Gojou again.

“Hey,” Gojou says and his tone is so serious it startles you. You set your knife down on the cutting board before looking at him. His face doesn’t seem right to you and it dawns on you a second later it’s because he’s frowning and it’s not the usual childish frown you’re used to seeing. “Don’t take what that guy said seriously. Like I said, he’s an asshole. He was probably saying all of that to freak you out.” There’s a pause and Gojou scratches the back of his head, looking uncomfortable in his skin. “So don’t, like, cry about it. Takamatsu’s a prick.”

“Are you,” you squint, looking Gojou over suspiciously. “Trying to make me feel better or something in your own weird Gojou way?”

“Someone has to make sure the class baby isn’t drowning in their sorrows,” Gojou returns to his usual brand of cocky, with a grin. His sunglasses slide down, revealing playful eyes.

“I don’t want the comfort then,” you roll your eyes and return to chopping your vegetables. “Besides, I don’t need it anyways, I’m strong”

“Eeeeh.”

Asshole.

“There’s different kinds of strong, you jackass,” you argue for argument’s sake. You vaguely notice that in spite of your annoyance, your shoulders aren’t stiff and your jaw is loose. Apparently Gojou is good for something, after all. “Strong looks different for different people. A kid is strong when they act tough after tripping. A grown man crying and being open with his emotions is strong,” you recount some of the ways you’ve seen people be strong in your life. You’ve witnessed strength in various ways in your 15 years of living. “... Even just living despite how hard it can be is strong.”

Save for the sound of you cutting green celery and the light simmer of the pan, silence falls over the two of you.

“What did you guys talk about when he said you could ask him questions?”

“... nothing important.”

[2006. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College ー 2nd year]

You’re 16 and you’re still alive and kicking.

You’re an upperclassman now, not that it means anything when there are still two whole grades of jujutsu schooling ahead of you. Still, you welcome the newfound responsibilities and admiration you receive in going up a level. At least, one of your underclassmen seems to admire you. Haibara Yuu does, though you’re pretty sure he adores Suguru even more. Nanami Kento is nice though, albeit a bit reserved.

The three of them are like you, individuals scouted into the world of curses and sorcerers rather than born into it. It’s nice to know you’re not alone in that sense.

Even if they weren’t, however, you’re sure that Gojou’s presence would find a way to override any sort of 'being alone'. You can’t be alone when he’s around even if you want to.

Gojou is just as annoying as he was when you were first years, but he’s surprisingly more tolerable.

He still bothers you whenever he has the chance and he still refers to you as the ‘class baby’. You’d also be lying to yourself if you said his hubris has gone down since you first met. He’s just as smug as he’s always been but it’s a bit easier seeing the charm in it in your second year compared to your first.

So maybe ー in the absolute loosest sense of the word ー the two of you have become friends. Something like it at least.

This is why you don’t mind it when the boy plops his ass on your desk when you’re trying to read the recent volume of Fruits Basket to tell you about his newest feats he accomplished on his most recent mission. Nor do you mind it much when he follows you to the dorms to continue telling you what feels like an exaggerated tale, but you know Gojou’s abilities enough to know that 99% percent of it is true.

“So yeah,” he finishes with an air of satisfaction, nose pointing towards the sky with pride. “You could say that Suguru really didn’t even need to come, I pretty much crushed it by myself.”

You’re pretty sure if Suguru was here, Gojou would be in a headlock. “Better not let your bestie catch you saying that,” you warn playfully.

“Come on, [First],” Gojou beams broadly with no care in the world. “Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to praise me?”

You shake your head in bemusement, smiling lightly. “I can admit it, I’m impressed,” your words are genuine. With all the blessings he has in the world, being strong is the standard for your classmate. He’s a natural talent to boot. Yet for all his nonchalance, you can give credit where credit is due. The guy works hard to perfect his techniques and he’s a perpetual motion machine when it comes to improvement. “Good job, Gojou, you’ve worked really hard. I’m happy you’re seeing the payoff.”

It takes you a second to realize that you’re walking by yourself and you turn around, eyebrow quirked. “What’s up?” Gojou doesn’t respond immediately and you have no idea what his eyes look like beneath the sunglasses. “Hey are you alright?”

The boy comes to at your prodding, sauntering after you lazily, “nothing, nothing,” Gojou replies smoothly with a grin. “I am pretty great, huh?”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Gojou,” you give him a light shove that barely moves him an inch. Geez he’s a giant, you won’t be surprised if in the future he’s taller than even Yaga.

“Since I’m working so hard, do you think you could make me a congratulatory lunch tomorrow?” You’re pretty sure he isn’t serious. Or at the very least you’re sure Gojou expects your answer to be negative. You never cook for him, the closest he ever gets is pilfering samples of it before you chase him out of the kitchen. “Just ki-”

“Sure, what do you want?”

With near comedic timing, Gojou’s shades slide down the bridge of his nose and his eyes are wide in astonishment. “Seriously?”

Your grin widens, “I can change my mind if you-”

“No, no, no! No take backs allowed, [First]!” Gojou covers your mouth with a large palm. “I’m putting in my special requests!”

You move his hand from your mouth with a sage nod, “then please make your requests, young pupil, I’ll prepare you a feast of feasts!” Gojou opens his mouth promptly, giddy. “Within reason.”

You snicker when he whines about the unfairness of your new stipulations.

It takes a week before lunch becomes dinner too.

Gojou’s nice sometimes, you can admit.

And maybe you can also admit that you are ー in more than the loosest sense of the word ー actually friends. A friend whose status as a special grade sorcerer is something you can be proud of rather than annoyed by. He’s reckless and sometimes that recklessness gets him in trouble, but still you enjoy his company when you have it. Even if sometimes he gets you in trouble because of his shenanigans. Or even when he is annoying Utahime whom he is presently taunting in favor of saying her partner for this mission is stronger than she is.

“Mei Mei,” you wave your fingers daintily at the strong partner in question. “Finally gonna let me take you out some time?” You’re mostly joking. 5% at least. Beautiful as she is, Mei Mei isn’t really your type.

The blue-haired sorcerer laughs lightly, crossing her arms, “I’ll have to warn you that my dinners aren’t cheap.”

“Worry not, I’m an amazing cook,” you’re barely able to wink in the money-loving sorcerer’s direction when Gojou’s lanky arm is thrown over your shoulder and he saunters over to a distressed Utahime. “What the heck!”

“Check out how the path Utahime walked on is falling apart,” Gojou snickers.

“Oh shut up,” Suguru looks far too pleased to actually mean his words though.

For Utahime’s sake, you fight back the urge to giggle at their tomfoolery. You like Utahime, you bonded in your first year over finding Gojou Satoru’s presence an annoyance. You’ve sadly, however, become a bit of a traitor to your Hating Gojou Alliance, much to her dismay when you confessed months prior that you and Gojou had become chill.

“By the way,” Mei Mei brings the conversation back to a reasonable plane. “Where’s the veil?”

Gojou’s nice sometimes, you can admit. And maybe you can also admit that you are ー in more than the loosest sense of the word ー actually friends. A friend you can be proud of. A friend whose company you enjoy even if sometimes he gets you in trouble because of his shenanigans.

Like the fact you somehow forgot to put up the veil?! How the hell do you forget to put up the veil?! Nevermind the fact you technically forgot too, Gojou was the one who said he’d put it up. That’s why you have no problem pointing in his direction when Yaga sternly asks who was the Forget Futaba in your band.

“Is a veil that necessary in the first place,” Gojou whines in the gym later in the afternoon. “It’s not like it matters if normies see or not, right? They can’t see cursed spirits or cursed techniques anyway.”

“Pretty sure it’s for the best that normal people don’t start seeing spontaneously exploding buildings on the regular, Gojou,” you watch with an impressed whistle at how your classmate tosses a basketball effortlessly to a hoop. You’re sure if Suguru hadn’t stopped it, the ball would have been a perfect three pointer.

“Of course it’s not good for them to see,” Suguru affirms your words resolutely. “The strongest deterrent against the outbreak of cursed spirits is the mental calm of the populace.” It becomes a battle of the philosophies when Gojou steals the ball back with finesse.

“Looking out for the weak is so exhausting, honestly,” Gojou sighs and Suguru shoots back with narrowed eyes 'Survival of the Weakest'. “Assigning reasons and responsibility to strength is what those who are weak do.”

Should we…? You glance at Shoko.

Yeah, we probably should. The brunette glances back.

“Time to dip,” Shoko sprints out of the gymnasium faster than you’ve ever seen her.

“I’ve got a pretty wild date with Battle Royale right now,” you skip after her in a hurry right as Suguru summons one of his cursed spirits like it's a pokemon.

The next time you see Gojou, he knocks and enters your room when you go ‘huh?’ “Yo, I’ve got a mission.”

“Already?” You raise an eyebrow. “We just got back from the Mei Mei and Utahime thing.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “ Teach says we have to protect the star plasma vessel.”

“That information got leaked?”

“Wait, you know what the star plasma vessel is?”

“Tengen stuff is, like, the bare minimum of stuff we should have learned about in first year, Gojou.”

“... anyways, Suguru and I are heading out early tomorrow,” he says, like what you told him moments prior wasn’t anything important.

You smile with pride, “well, that’s a pretty big mission for a couple of students to have,” it really is, honestly. If anything, that’s something you think the adults should have. It’s pretty cool that two of your classmates were chosen for it. “That’s cool. You should be really proud of yourself, Gojou.”

Your words get his lips to morph into a smile a bit more authentic and veritable than his usual smug grins and confident jeers. “I am pretty cool, huh?”

You roll your eyes in good fun before looking at your book again. Your favorite character's dead but you at least wanna see who gets off this shitty island. “Y’all not still fighting about earlier are you?”

“Nah, we’re over it,” Gojou sits at a chair by your bedside desk, swirling in it. “It’s whatever in the end. Suguru can believe whatever he wants.” A silence somewhere between comfortable but hesitant falls over you briefly before Gojou asks, “you believe that stuff he was saying too?”

“Dunno, you’re probably asking the wrong person,” you turn the page with a shrug. It’s been nearly a year since you met Takamatsu Akira. Nearly a year since you were told someone you loved would kill you in the worst way possible and yet you’d have no anger in your heart about it. The future is technically always changing. It’s never stagnant. If you wanted, you could take what the seer said to heart and run with your tail between your legs. Yet here you were, laid on your stomach reading Battle Royale in your room located in Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College instead of elsewhere; living in perpetual paranoia about any relationship you have. “The weak’s the majority, they need protection. It should be the duty of the strong to protect them. But… I can also get the exhaustion. If you’re the strongest, who’s gonna protect you then?”

You close your mouth and purse your lips thoughtfully and vaguely you find it a bit amazing that Gojou hasn’t made any sort of quip yet.

“But… I guess I probably align myself more with Suguru’s line of thinking,” you decide after a heartbeat. “I’m the one who’s gonna die in the most horrible way possible, remember? But here I am, still kickin’ it here with you guys. I should probably run while I have the chance, huh?”

“I already told you not to listen to that crap,” you look away from your book, surprised at the harshness in Gojou’s tone. Your eyes look into angry azure and you glance away just as quickly. “That guy’s a prick. There’s no point in listening to him. So quit worrying your pretty little head about that. You’re supposed to be strong, right?”

Your eyes skim over your book, not sure what else to settle your eyes on. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m pretty strong, I guess.”

That appears to be the right answer. “Exactly, so stop giving that stuff he said the time of day.”

You chuckle, “yeah you’re right, sorry,” ‘I’m always right’ Gojou says flippantly and you find your head shaking with a warmth settling in your chest. “Grab me a souvenir or two while you’re gone, Mr. Special Grade.”

“I’m not leaving Tokyo, you know,” Gojou tosses a crumpled piece of paper at your head.

“So?” You toss the paper back, watching as it bounced off his infinity. Cheater. “Grab me something extra nice anyways! I deserve it as payback for cooking for you all the time, you eat like a horse.”

The mission goes horribly wrong.

Shoko tells you over a phone call that the mission went horribly wrong in all the worst ways. Suguru was injured. Gojou was dead.

Parts of campus look like it was hit by a tornado when you get there, out of breath, lungs screaming but you still push through it to get Suguru’s room banging on the door. “Su-”

“Satoru’s okay,” is the first thing out of his mouth when he opens the door and your knees almost buckle in your relief. “He’s alive. He was injured but he’s alive. He’s in his room, right now.”

He’s okay.

Your breath is shaky as you let your friend’s words permeate through your entire being. “That,” you lick your lips, holding yourself. “That’s good.” It’s all you can say although it doesn’t encompass even a tenth of the emotion you feel. “I’m glad you’re both alright.” The quiet is almost deafening; what do you say to ease the hurt when the mission went wrong in every way it could have? “I’m gonna start cooking in an hour or two. I’ll bring you something to eat later, any requests?”

“It’s okay,” Suguru’s smile is small but polite. “I’m not that hungry. Maybe Satoru’ll eat something.” The door closes promptly before you can ask if your friend is sure he doesn’t want anything. I’ll check on you again later, I promise.

Your nerves are frazzled when your eyes sweep over to the door that leads to Gojou’s room, hardly able to make yourself move towards it.

“He was injured but he’s alive.”

How injured is injured?

Has he gone to see Shoko?

“Gojou?” Your knock is barely audible.

You knock once more with a soft confidence.

“Satoru?” Your voice falters, just above being a whisper. “Hey, it’s me. I know you probably don’t want to talk right now but I just want you to know I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. If you wanna talk, I’m just down the hall, okay?” You pause, ears straining to hear anything on the other side of the door. You’re met with silence. “Get some rest. I’ll bring you dinner later, alright?”

With a sigh, you turn around to go to your room only for your heart to leap out of your chest when you realize someone is already in it. You jump, clutching your chest when you realize it’s Satoru, sitting on your bed with his back slumped against the wall.

He looks like hell and impossibly small wrapped in your blanket. Russet stains his white locks that are even messier than usual and his eyes have a chilling emptiness to them. He doesn’t meet your eyes, you aren’t sure if he has the will to. You don’t have the will to say anything despite the thoughts running through your head.

Wordlessly, Satoru raises the blanket in an invitation. Like he’s welcoming you through a barrier.

So wordlessly, you sit on your bed and nestle beside him. You don’t mind the scent of sweat, blood and dirt. Nor do you mind when the tall and lanky teen slumps against your side, resting his head atop yours. You simply find his hand and brush your fingers together, feeling the roughness of his callouses, before twining your fingers with his.

You clutch each other’s hands almost painfully.

[2007. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College ー 3rd year]

It’s you, isn’t it?

You realize that one day Satoru is going to kill you on a rainy night in December in your room laying on your bed. The two of you had taken to sharing a space on nights you felt lonely since you were 16 and the star plasma vessel mission went wrong in every way possible. Last week, you both turned 18.

Another year has past and you're still alive and kicking.

You’re facing each other, your head resting on your hand with your elbow angled to keep your head up.

“You won’t leave too, right?” Satoru asks softly, fingers messing with a stray string on your shirt.

Suguru’s gone. So is Haibara.

Both are gone in different ways.

Death is what took Haibara, leaving Nanami Jujutsu Tech’s sole second year.

Suguru was swallowed in madness and disillusionment, defecting to accomplish a new goal of creating a world with only jujutsu sorcerers.

It stings, but you know Satoru is hurt the most.

“It’s unfortunate to tell you but you’re pretty much stuck with me, Satoru,” you give him a weak nudge with your free hand.

“Even though Takamatsu said you’re going to die?”

“We’re all gonna die someday,” you tell him easily. It’s you. You aren’t sure how you’re able to smile like you aren’t having the worst realization in the world but you smile. “Besides, you’re the one who said not to worry about that, right? Because I’m strong.”

“Yeah,” Satoru whispers. “You’re strong.”

“And you’re the strongest sorcerer in the world,” you remind him unnecessarily. It is an inherent fact of the world. Gojou Satoru, born only two days before you came into this world, shook the entire world when he was born.

“And because you’re the strongest, that’s why I have to stay with you,” you run your fingers through his hair gently. When is he going to do it? When is everything going to go wrong? You want to remember every feature he has before you one day have no choice but to leave them behind. “Who’s going to protect you otherwise?”

Satoru smiles for the first time that night, looking up at you almost dreamily from where he lays. “You’re gonna protect me?”

“Yeah,” you vow sincerely.

[2008. Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College ー 4th year]

“Happy birthday to us, happy birthday to us,” Satoru sings crudely while you roll your eyes. It’s technically neither of your birthdays. It’s the 8th, the one day mid-point between your birthdays. The Official ‘Satoru-[First]’ Birthday Bash Celebration. Contrast to your first year as a student at Jujutsu Tech, you find yourself in a more pleasant mood about it. “Happy birthday to the both of us, happy birthday to us!”

“Isn’t it a bit too early to sing,” you shake your head with a chuckle.

“Early shmurly,” Satoru shrugs off your nonchalant concern like water off a duck’s back. You can’t bring yourself to scold him. “They throw us a surprise party every year. It’s not even a surprise if we know it’s coming. They always make us wait all day in class or tell us to leave campus though.”

“It’s part of the atmosphere, Satoru. Tradition!” You grin, giving his leg a light flick as he plops his ass right on top of your desk. “We gotta wait and act completely oblivious to everything until someone tells us to head to the dorms.”

It’s nice to see him smiling. It’s his second birthday without his best friend. A fact that will always resonate through your reality like ripples through the water.

“You’ll like my gift the best by the way,” you tell him with a self-assured confidence.

“Funny, I was about to say that to you,” Satoru winks, leg swinging lazily. He’s not wearing his sunglasses for onceー they’re off to the side resting on the teacher’s podium. “Of course, my gifts are always the best.”

A comfortable silence fills the room and you close your eyes.

Tomorrow you turn 19 and you’re still alive and kicking.

Moments like this make it hard to believe that one day you won’t be. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you told Satoru the truth of everything Takamatsu told you that day. You consider telling him this very moment, eyes resting on his face. He's smiling gently to himself, thinking about something unknown to you.

He’s so beautiful it makes you want to cry.

“Hey,” you can barely hear yourself.

“Hmm?” Satoru looks at you, lips upturned in a mellow, peaceful expression.

“We should get married.”

One second passes,

two seconds.

“Yeah, we should,” Satoru nods, seemingly enchanted.

You blink dumbly, “what?”

“Let’s do it,” Satoru repeats himself purposefully. “Let’s get married.”

“... Satoru, I was 60% joking when I said that,” you don’t even know why that’s what came out of your mouth.

In spite of your attempt to brush him off, Satoru stands to his feet all the more determined. His large hands cup yours gently as he pulls you into standing with him. “And I’m being 100% serious,” he means it, you can see it in his eyes. They’re more clear than any lake you’ve seen. “Let’s get married. We can go after your birthday.”

“Satoru, we’re high schoolers,” you try reasoning.

“We’re old enough to get married in this country.”

Despite that fact, you shake your head again, “we’re not getting married in high school.”

“Then we can tie the knot after we graduate,” Satoru decides like that’s the only issue at present.

“Fresh out of high school?”

“Fresh out of high school,” he affirms. “We can have a big wedding just like in the movies. Whatever you want. We’ve already got the headstart on the kids with that Zenin kid and his sister.”

You find yourself laughing unexpectedly at the absurdity, at the certainty. “Satoru.”

“[First].”

“Your clan is not gonna be happy with you marrying some jujutsu nobody,” you tell him.

“Like I care what a bunch of old farts think.”

“I’m pretty sure your parents aren’t gonna like me.”

“I’ll love you enough to make up for it,” Satoru rests his forehead on yours. That motion alone damn near breaks your heart. “I wanna marry you, [First].”

“Yeah,” you sniff. This boy who is quickly becoming a man in front of your very eyes is beautiful enough to make you cry. “Let’s get married.”

For a smile so small, it beams like a thousand suns, “Right after we graduate?”

“Right after we graduate.”

“Even if you think my parents aren’t gonna like you?”

“Screw ‘em. I’ll love you more than enough to make up for it.”

One day Gojou Satoru is going to kill you.

You don’t know what will lead you down the path of finding yourself on the opposing side of the boy you’ve grown to love. You don’t know whether it will be a death that’s accidental or as intentional as Suguru’s defection from your organization.

So many unknowns, yet the fact remains the sameー one day you’re going to die and it’s going to be Satoru that sends you to the other side. You let him kiss you despite that fact.

It’s you.

You know it in your heart.

Because if someone were to ask you if Gojou Satoru was precious enough to you that you wouldn’t bear any anger towards him for killing you, you knew what your answer would be in a heartbeat.

Yes, you kiss him tenderly, holding his face in your hands while your heart cupped the precious memories you shared. Memories you would never allow yourself to forget. The halcyon days of past, present and future. He is.

[20xx. kuzuivencdcsusahduvtaydr ー ???? oayn]

It’s snowing in Tokyo, a lot of it.

That’s not common for the area of Japan you live in.

Maybe Tokyo will see one or two days of light snowfall, but it’s almost never enough to cloak the city like this. That’s why it’s a perfect day for a snowball fight and it is perfect, save for the fact that Satoru is definitely cheating.

His tosses may be light but the jerk still has on his infinity, your snow dissipating in powdery puffs whenever it hits the barrier keeping him perpetually safe.

You can’t stop yourself from giggling though, even as he pelts you with an unfair barrage of snow.

The laugh is barreling from your form even more when Satoru rushes you out of nowhere, the largest snowball you’ve ever seen in his hands laughing like he’s five. Your fall is softened by the snow underneath you, barely even much of a drop, and Satoru’s on top of you with his legs on either side of your torso.

He’s merciful enough not to slam dunk his snowball of fury into your face though.

“Okay, okay, you win!” You laugh good naturedly. “Please, Gojou Satoru, I yield!” Despite your words, your hand is working quickly on the side to form a snowball. He’s touching you, you can feel the warmth of his legs on either side of you. His infinity’s down then. You open your eyes mischievously, bracing yourself for a toss when you feel something warm fall onto your face.

One drop,

two drops.

Your breath falters.

“Why are you crying, Satoru?”

It occurs to you then in all your years of knowing him, you’ve never seen Satoru cry. Yet there he is, right atop you, holding the world’s largest snowball in his trembling arms. All the while, tears are running down his face, flowing from those beautiful eyes of his. Those eyes filled with a greater sadness than you’ve ever seen as he looks at you.

The snowball you were clutching drops from your hand immediately in your concern, “hey what’s wrong?”

Satoru doesn’t answer you. Instead, the strongest sorcerer in the world drapes himself over you with body-wracking sobs. The snowball he was holding has disappeared to who knows where, his hands now clutching the front of your jacket tightly. Satoru’s only response is his body-wracking sobs, his knuckles painfully white. He sobs, sobs and sobs like you’ve never seen before.

Slowly, you bring your arms up to hug him and nuzzle the top of his hair that matches the snow around you. “It’s okay,” you whisper to the boy crying in your arms. You smile softly and you close your eyes once more. “It’s okay,” you tell him again. “I'll protect you.”

i was inspired by chainsaw man with the idea of a future devil sorcerer and a reader who shares the same fate as aki

*bonus note: also in japan, the legal age marrying age for women is 16 and men is 18, i heard from a prof they're working on changing that but at least during the setting the time of the fic that is still the same so hence why you'd both be of marrying age despite still being students

*final note: i am a huge final fantasy nerd and the final chapter is written in al bhed, a language from final fantasy x. feel free to use this translator

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #fun fact: december 9th is MY birthday #gojo angst #gojou angst #whoops #happy birthday gojo

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burning-academia-if · 3 months

Text

Bonus Short Story: Zoe

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Snapshots from the life of a child who used curiosity to escape loneliness.

CW: brief mentions of transphobia

A/N: Thanks again for one hundred reviews and enjoy Zoe's backstory! It's the lightest of all of them, and also has some fun lore bits tossed in lol

Zoe hadn’t always been their name, and sometimes they wondered if they’d gotten it right. Their old name isn’t relevant to the story, except in the very beginning. When, at a very young age with a vocabulary so limited that they had to mime with their tiny hands the concepts they were trying to tell adults about, the sound of it had felt wrong. They didn’t have the words for why either.

In books and shows and movies, sometimes characters took on fake names for fake identities and Zoe started doing the same. They ran through names, some so utterly ridiculous it brought more joy then concern to any adult listening. Others made eyebrows draw together and wordless frowns burn their throat.

It was why, when they uttered the name ‘Zoe’ and it only got cursory shrugs they lunged for it. Gripped it with their hands. This time, maybe, people would take them seriously. This time, maybe, people wouldn’t laugh at the name they chose themself. This time, maybe, people would respect the one thing that belonged to them. But that wouldn't be until the end of youth. When it already felt far too late.

Zoe's mom and dad hadn't ever cared, at least. The two of them would call Zoe whatever name they wanted as seriously as they would have the name they'd originally given. There had never been any expectations for them to grow out of it, and their mom was the one who went to the teachers and told each one Zoe was allowed to write down whatever name they wanted. No teacher would tell them otherwise.

It was easy to grow, in the house they did. It was harder to grow anywhere outside of it. School was full of watching eyes that questioned everything Zoe did. They had failed every social interaction they'd ever been in and elementary school was a haphazard of pitfalls that lead straight to being the 'weird kid.'

Their little brother was different. From the moment he was born, everyone found him charming. Brighter, cuter, easier. He didn't question everything and go through names like packs of candies. Others might have been irritated, but Zoe was five years older and from the moment they'd set eyes on him decided it was their job to protect him. They didn't want him to know what it was to escape to a library to hide the way they were crying over being left out during recess again.

At home, Zoe would sit in the grass in the small garden their mom had, watching bugs flutter about. She wouldn't say a word, hair wrapped up in a bandanna, braids falling down her back and dark skin gleaming in the spring sun. Her hands were nimble as she turned the earth, covering seeds with soil.

It'd take minutes, it'd take hours, for them to finally talk, "I don't want to go to school anymore, ma."

"And why's that sweet pea?"

There was a butterfly, small and white, fluttering against the wooden fence. Lost and too early to the season. Their own body felt too small for them, ribs squeezing all their organs. Maybe it felt the same. Escaped from it's cocoon early to search for a way to be free in a different kind of form. To stretch its wings and go as far as it could before being devoured.

They were eleven now, at the end of elementary school. They couldn't imagine middle school, weren't ready for the new challenges it would come with when they hadn't even managed to overcome a single one they'd encountered in school so far. Their toes curled into the grass, rolling around words on their tongue.

"It's like...it's like everyone was born with a script to a movie except for me. I don't get the words I'm supposed to say, or why what I say is wrong. It's like...like..." Their face scrunched up, not knowing how to explain the wall they were always banging against. At how they tried to mimic how everyone spoke and interacted with each other and missed the steps each time.

Their mom set her tools down and turned to look at them, "Is this about your name again?"

"No! I mean, kinda? All the kids already thought I'm a freak because I don't use the name you and pa gave me and maybe that's where everything went wrong. Maybe I showed up wrong and so now, no matter what I say it'll be wrong. I don't know how to get the other kids to like me. I'm too scared to keep trying. I go to school and there's no one to talk to and I'm so lonely and I'm so...lonely..." Tears pricked their eyes and they buried their face in their knees. Curled themself up tight so they didn't have to see the look of pity on their mom's face.

A door slid open, and a body, tiny, crashed into theirs. They gasped, teetering over onto the grass, arm flinging out to cradle their brother without a second thought. He wrapped his arms around their middle, eyes squeezed tight.

In a daze, they looked over and saw their dad with a twist of a smile in apology and a gentle one on their mom's face. Their brother said, louder then he probably realized, "No no no. You're sad. Being sad isn't fun."

"It isn't." They said, trying not to laugh. To cry. They didn't want to talk to another soul again. They didn't have a choice.

They couldn't use magic, either, which felt like another mark in a sea of marks against them. When they'd gone to do the required assessment at thirteen, it'd been a whole lot of nods and 'hmms' and other things that made them feel like they were a specimen under a microscope.

"You have a stronger magical presence, but it certainly isn't something you have access to."

Didn't they know. Between their constant failures of connecting to kids at school and trying to talk with other magicians, their inability to be anything had been a barrier in all ways. Everyone knew luck magicians weren't seen as real magicians, and in the rare instances Zoe was forced to go to any gathering related to them was met with the distant look of otherness or pity.

Their mom and dad had shrugged it off. Their dad commenting how it was a better assessment then his own and their mom saying her magic might as well have been the equivalent of a luck magician's with how weak it was. It wasn't that Zoe minded, at least, not in the way everyone thought they would.

They minded in that it was another addition to the wall that existed between themself and others. Middle school was harder than elementary in all the ways they expected. All lunches ended hiding in a teacher's classroom or the library, words getting tangled together when they tried to talk. They managed the bottom tier of friends, the kind you exchange a few meaningless words with during one class. At this point, they thought of giving up.

After the confirmation they were a magicless magician, they went home and laid on the grass outside and watched the clouds roll by listening to the sounds of cars rolling past or echoes of neighbors floating towards them. They thought of their little brother, the exact opposite of them in every way. They thought of their unborn sibling, two months out from its due date. They thought of all the ways they wanted someone to mirror them. They couldn't be the only one that was so, so lonely.

The Ripley siblings had stretched by one. Zoe, the quiet one who could never find their tongue. Elijah, who was as charming as ever and growing quicker then anyone could blink. And now Lia, the little sister who was more quiet than Zoe could ever be.

Like Zoe and their habit of always changing names, their mom took Lia being non-verbal in stride. She spent an hour each day on ASL lessons and Zoe would sit with her, fifteen and the same as ever in all ways, learning each sign. They would practice together, and then go to show dad when he was back from his part time job, separate from the tea shop they owned. Doctors had said she was young, and it might just be delayed at only two years old. Their mom would rather be safe than sorry, and learning a new language never hurt anybody.

The new studies was something to throw themself into. Another way not to think of anything else. Just them, them, them. Always them. Their world was too big for one. Too big for just their family, as much love as was there. They didn't think there would be anything else for them.

"Ughh, I'm too old for my sibling to babysit me, ma." Elijah groaned, ten years old and already speaking with the attitude of a teenager. The look mom threw his way made Zoe throw a hand around his shoulder, more in warning then camaraderie.

"Ignore him, I got him. Besides, Lia's appointment is only an hour."

"You bet I'll ignore him. Keep talking like that and we'll see where that lands you." She reached out, pressed a kiss to Zoe's cheek and then Elijah's despite his protesting and groaning.

The second she was out the door, dad and sister in tow, he shoved their hand off him, "You don't gotta cover for me. I'm not that small anymore."

"...You're ten."

"And you always treat me like a kid! You and mom and even dad when he's not careful." They raised their hands, deciding to concede, but the flicker of irritation showed it didn't help their case. "You never even let me help you."

Zoe's brow furrowed, "I don't need help with anything...? And even if I did, it's not your job to—"

"Because I'm too young to make you happy. I at least know when you're sad. Better then mom does." Elijah stormed away in a whirlwind and Zoe blinked before hurrying after him.

"Wait, Eli!" They skidded out into the hallway, calling after him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!"

"Yes there is!"

"And I don't want to talk about it."

"But..."

"I don't!" And he whirled around, and there was a sea of violent, rushing past Zoe like wind during a snowstorm. It shoved them backwards, and they fell. Their eyes went wide as the chill of it wrapped around the whole room, spilling through the house. Magic.

Magic?

Zoe's words were barely a whisper, "You're...a heart magician?"

Since when? They searched through the confines of their memory, and tried to pull up any instance where he'd been acting strange or when something had been off. They came up blank, but as the last of the magic faded away, they understood why. As dramatic a display as it had been, there was nothing destructive about it. Strong, yes, but more desperate to heal and mend then destroy.

They pulled themself up, and found Elijah's eyes wide, "Don't tell mom. I'll tell her. I just...I can't be the only one who can use magic like this. All the other magicians are so...mean. Isn't that part of the reason why you're sad?"

"What? No. No, no, no. Hey listen, being a magician is a gift alright? Come here, it's ok." They weren't sure how to go about this. It wasn't an experience they'd ever gone through, suddenly wrapped up in magic.

His feet remained glued to the floor, eyes bright and shining. The false anger persona falling away until he was just a kid all over again, "No. I could have hurt you. I could have..."

"I'm fine, aren't I?" Zoe held out their arms, tried for a smile they were never good at wearing. "You knocked me over, it's fine. A solid gust of wind could do that with how scrawny I am."

They waited for him, until he eventually took a step. And then one hesitant step became two and then a lunge and then he crashed against them in a tight hug and Zoe wrapped their arms around him and they thought it not fair for him to be so young and trying so hard to figure out their pain while hiding his own.

Zoe hugged him back, arms not as sure as his. Never as sure. Their thoughts were racing. They knew nothing about magicians or magic or creatures of magic. They didn't even know anything about themself. But they knew the path Elijah was going to walk was going to be vastly different than their own. They needed to learn.

It was an excuse, maybe, to ignore their constantly endless problems and questions for their own life. High school was fine. It was the same routine as middle school. They had friends they talked to in certain classes and spent lunch hiding in classrooms and libraries. The key difference now was that they had after school pass times.

It still involved libraries and holing themself away in study rooms, but still.

The most frustrating thing was West Myers was not where one would find information on magicians easily unless they ventured onto the campus of Vales Grove University. Zoe didn't want to do that because they were a luck magician. They could already picture some heart or soul magician college students looking at them like a lost child. So they made do.

It was maybe the hundredth visit to the rundown public library that something noticed them. The library was on the edge of the north side of town. From here, the woods crept in, always yellowing grass spilling over the edges and thin trees watching anyone who would look back. Zoe had never paid it much heed, until their sixteenth year when the woods got tired of waiting and watching.

"BOO!" Zoe jumped near ten feet in the air, feet stumbling over each other, bag slipping half off their shoulder. By some miracle they managed to stop it from dropping to the ground and spilling out its contents. Their heart was going a thousand miles an hour in their ears. A strange, round, green creature was floating in the space near them giggling to itself. "Ooh, I did it! I did it! I scared a magician."

Their expression collapsed into their default blank calm. No words passed their lips.

The creature kept going, "Hey hey, don't be mad! It was all in good fun. Here, here, an apology."

Tiny arms with little nibs on the end reached out and there was a dandelion in its hands. Zoe stared, "Does this cost anything?"

"No no, it's an apology. It's what I owe you. A wish." They reached out a hand and instead of placing the flower in their palm, the creature settled into it instead. It felt soft, like an old cotton shirt that's been through the wash many times. "I always see you. Looking. Longing. What's your name?"

Zoe searched their memory for the name of this creature. There were hardly any magical creatures in the region; the local magician council had a firm distaste for them that kept most at bay. It wasn't information they needed often but this was a common enough one. A regular earth sprite. Maybe once a forest sprite, specifically, but the endless drought had shifted things in the region. What once should have been vibrant green was now a muted brown.

The things were harmless enough. Maybe. So they offered their name.

Immediately, the creature shook its head, "That doesn't fit right, does it?"

Zoe blinked, "Well...I mean..."

"Don't mind, don't mind. Humans that feel like you...are always in flux. Like the seasons. I'll call you that if you wish! My name is Jolly right now!"

At this point, they finally had the realization to look around. Humans couldn't see anything related to magic. Zoe must look wild, talking and stammering into their hand like this. The talk right names and wrong names was throwing them for a loop. What was their name? They'd stopped jumping through names like t-shirts in middle school. How did this creature even know that? And the most pressing question of all.

"What do you even want?" The creature nestled further into their hand at the question.

"Hmm, company? In exchange, you want answers to things, yes? I'll help you navigate magic. In return, allow me company!" Zoe pressed their lips together, but before they could deny the request, it suddenly hopped out of their hand. "Come, come. I know where they hide information. Follow me."

And despite all reservations, they did.

West Myers was stranger than Zoe had originally thought. Jolly had proven to be a great guide, and also their first real friend. Zoe sat at the counter of their parents tea shop, binder and notes spread out around them. The air conditioning strained against the summer heat, and Jolly dozed softly in a spare teacup.

The first thing Zoe had learned was that the borders of West Myers did not end at the town. It extended into the woods, and stopped miles in. The second thing Zoe had noticed was that the reason why they had been struggling to find anything was because those records had been removed.

Jolly had said magicians didn't want the general public to know of any events related to them, and so most information would be removed. Thankfully for Zoe, the woods remembered everything as well as the dead did. It had said that Vales Grove had stood for a relatively short time, which in sprite terms meant at least a hundred years, and it's founders had been odd. Liars. Cheats.

It hadn't provided more information on them, and Zoe had gotten the sense it'd been nervous. They didn't press it and it didn't matter, they knew what they were looking for now, and they knew how to look.

Bent over pages, they jerked as a door suddenly slammed open.

Snapping to attention, their brother raised an eyebrow, "Ma would have your head if she caught you not paying attention."

"Sorry, just..."

"Not to mention if she saw Jolly here." Eli's voice pitched high into singsong, "Wake up, wake up. I brought snacks."

Like clockwork, Jolly snapped it's eyes open, hopping up into the air, "Sugar snacks?"

Eli held out a box and poured a couple of sour candies into his hand, offering it up to it. Jolly practically cheered, diving right for it and gathering them all on its arms. He laughed, flinching away slightly at the sensation of it in his hands.

Zoe sighed, fighting a smile, "You're spoiling it too much."

"And you don't?" Eli threw back, coming to lean against the counter. His eyes skipped over the set up, unseeing for a minute as it was how Zoe normally looked at work. Eli sometimes swung by when he was walking home from a friends' house. Zoe couldn't tell if it was because he wanted to bother them or he actually wanted to visit them. Maybe it was both.

His hands snatched something from the table before Zoe could blink, "Is this a brochure to Vales Grove?"

Zoe paused, "Oh, yeah. That's likely where you'll be attending college so I just...checked it out."

They'd hated the visit, hated the atmosphere, hated the way they were spoken to the entire time. Still, they'd gone on the tour and taken all the information packets and had went online to fill out the application anyway.

Eli frowned, "You're hiding something from me again."

"What, no. I mean, you're going to have your magician assessment next year and I just...wanted to know how things worked with all that."

"I know you're lying."

They flinched, and it was Jolly who answered, falling back into its teacup, "They're going to attend! They're curiosity got to them!"

Zoe went still and so did Eli. He paused, eyes narrowing as he looked at Zoe. He was twelve now, still so young but as perceptive as ever. His voice was as soft as it was simmering, "Curiosity killed the cat. Are you forcing yourself to go because of me?"

"No, actually." Zoe's voice rushed out the next sentence before Eli could cut them off. "It was, at first. At least, I just wanted to know what to expect to help you if you needed it. But, you know, something's...really weird about this town and that school. Now I'm doing this because I want answers."

"Answers to what...? What's so weird about this place? It's just normal suburban weird, you know?" Eli handed Jolly another candy without thinking as it reached for more. "What you should be doing is finding some place where you can finally make a friend, and that isn't Vales Grove."

"Jolly is friend!"

"A human friend. No offense Jolly."

"It's fine, it's fine."

Zoe frowned, shook their head, and then thought better of it, "Listen I know that I'm...not the most social, but hear me out first. Look." They spun their binder, brimming with various papers and printouts and envelopes. Eli raised an eyebrow, but let Zoe go on. "What's weird is that there's barely anything magical in our entire region."

"But that's because—"

"Wait. Just. Hear me out. Magic is attracted to magic, right? And if magic is attracted to magic, then places where there's a lot of magicians should attract all sorts of things, but it doesn't. The only reason Jolly is here is by accident, but in other places, it's different. Take, I don't know, Foxglove for example. That whole town is the country's epicenter for magic and it's brimming with every magical thing you could imagine."

Eli frowned, popping more candy into his mouth with a shrug, "It's also the source of so much trouble all the important magicians in the region warn us about it."

"Sure, two worlds constantly colliding will do that but...humans are allowed to know about magic. Magicians aren't forced to hide what they are. The Council of Foxglove doesn't force people to forget things or erase memories of peoples' friends." Zoe pulled at the purple tab and opened up to a series of hastily written notes. "And it isn't just Foxglove. Look at this. Everywhere I was able to sneak information on is the same. And all of these records are so well hidden and for what?"

"Well..."

"This is all weird, Eli. Not just West Myers or Vales Grove University, but this whole region." They pushed the binder towards him.

Their brother pursed his lips, handed the rest of the candy to a very excited Jolly, and wrapped his hands around himself, "Alright. So things are weird. What are you going to do about? This only makes me think you should get out of here as soon as possible even more now."

They shook their head, "I...it...it doesn't feel right."

There were so many other things they wanted to say. It wasn't just the absence of magic but the presence of death. So much death. They wondered how no one was drowning in it. And if there was anything known to combat death, it were heart magicians. It was the thing Eli was. It was the thing Zoe was sure their new little sister was showing signs of being.

"It doesn't feel right because you've only ever known this town, sib. You keep closing off your world before you even let yourself try for something else." Eli shoved himself back from the counter. "Look, all that is super weird, though. Like, you better not fall into a conspiracy weird. But if this is what you want to do, go for it."

Zoe's shoulders relaxed, "...Don't tell mom?"

"So she can kill you? Nah, you can have the college conversation with her yourself. Good luck. Also, speaking of, the only reason I stopped by is because we needed some garlic from the store. Mom'll pay you back."

"Got it."

Eli raised his hand, walked a few steps back and paused. Zoe thought he was going to say something, but he only gave a goofy grin as goodbye and ducked out the door. The quiet that followed was only broken by Jolly's munching. Zoe leaned back in their chair, and wondered if Eli was right.

When did they settle on the name Zoe, anyway? When did they lung for it with all their might? It was when their childhood was already over. It was right before the summer they started college. Somewhere in the whirlwind of applications and parental arguments and throwing themself into a new thing and a new thing and a new thing, it came to them.

"It's Zoe." They said, suddenly, a week before they were slated to start college. Their mom and dad stopped whatever they'd been saying. "My name, I think."

"Zoe." Their mom said, with a smile. "I like it."

"Better than when you were insisting we all call you Guardian Heart when you were five." Their dad laughed, and their next words felt heavier. Their dad's joke didn't even get through to them.

The thing about their nature was that they'd run from one thing they were afraid of to another thing. They were afraid of magic and the Council and the university, and suddenly the fear of themselves was washed away, "I don't...think I'm anything. A boy or a girl or...anything."

They were clumsy, trying to find how to articulate it in the moment. It'd been easier to tell Eli, who had barely blinked at the news. It was impossible now, even though they knew their parents wouldn't reactive negatively. They'd always gone with them and let Zoe do whatever they wanted. They knew that so why?

Why was their chest caving in and why was their vision blurry?

Hands wrapped around them, and they buried themself into their mother's shoulder. Why were they crying? Because inside their stomach something twisted and wished that maybe it wasn't true. Oh, it would be so much easier if it wasn't true. Their mom held them tight and they imagined years of scornful eyes and disappointed frowns and they wanted to have something in them that wouldn't elicit such reactions. In another body with a different soul, they wouldn't have spent a whole childhood alone.

And so they wept for pieces of childhood forever lost to them.

"You can't come with me to college, Jolly!" Zoe huffed, trying to find just where the second shoe of their favorite pair went.

Jolly hopped around them, "But you changed! You changed! Your aura is so beautiful. Like grapes!"

They snagged it out from under their bed and threw it on, "I don't even want to know what it means to have an aura like grapes. Listen, I don't want anything to happen to you. And besides, this is something I choose myself. I have to face it myself."

Jolly collapsed on their bed, a pout on its face, "It'll be fine! Nothing strange there. Not for you."

"Better safe than sorry. Bye Jolly, I'll tell you how to goes later." And they were out the door and catching the bus.

And Jolly would be right. That first day was as anxiety inducing as everyone else's first day of college. And then the first year went by and the next and, save for a few missteps, everything was calm. Everything was peaceful. The years stretched on and they found a way to grow into it all.

They knew everything about Vales Grove, and they knew nothing.

They knew everything about themselves, and they knew nothing.

Everything was the same, until their last year of college, when nothing would be the same again.

#BA: bonus content #ch: zoe #this one was very fun for me specifically #it's very slice of life and meandering but the lore stuff in here was me treating myself #and Jolly my beloved #also I'll get to y'alls asks in the morning head empty rn

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weaselbeaselpants · 1 year

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Legit Bad-take/Bad-Faith Helluvaverse critics you should not trust if you see them

Interpersonal squabbles within the critical tag are irrelevant, sorry. This here is a genuine warning against users you should keep your distance from in regards to any VivziePop drama-discourse because their names may come up and you should know what it is that crossed the line.

Starlatte/Starvader/HonestHazbinCritiques/OhGodDude and Woomycritiques/RaySquid - Serial harasser(s). Long story incoming. Starlatte was/is a Vivcritical who got involved in the fandom back in 2019/2020 when she was a minor and didn't tell anyone. Her blog on tumblr was HonestHazbinCritiques where she made some good points but also managed to find/be a part of everyone else's takes in the critical community. Her relationship with several criticalblogs turned sour when she started lashing out, talking over people, being accused of faking her age, and doing stuff like arguing with irl sexworkers abt how they should feel about Angel Dust. Whatever her age actually was at the time, she was also sending her own rewrite scripts and fanwritten episodes to Spindlehorse in order to 'fix' Hazbin. In 2021 Star returned to Tumblr under the name "Oh-God-Dude" w/o disclosing to new people who she was while also starting shit. When said new ppl found out her past and got mad at her, she proceeded to block-backtalk every one of them.

Woomycritiques (twitter handle: Raysquid) is a critical blogger who stans Star and calls everyone else in the critical community an obsessed stalker while lashing out herself. She accused others of racism (unfounded), her friends of predation just for being proship (not the 'cest and underage is good'-kind, the "I like some problematic stuff in fic-context"-kind), and heckled Dirgentlemen over how much they should hate Helluva, and more.

Regardless of if you believe Woomy and Star are the same person, which ppl do, they are both -by now- adult persons who have been asked to stop and DIDN'T, which is why people don't trust them. Star and Woom were asked to tone it down, stop making accusations and even asked by many criticals to leave and stop talking about Helluvaverse as she/they seem to have nothing good to say about it. To put that into perspective, cuz I know some HH/HB fans are gonna be reading this: the people who've self-styled themselves antis and criticals begged this person to leave cuz she had nothing nice to say and was being a nuisance. I know the stans think that's all of us anyway, so let that sink in.

LincarRox aka ToyTaker - Creep. Nasty jealous stalker freak who got kicked out of Helluvaverse servers and Aminos for saying nasty shit like how he "wants to put a baby" in Viv. No really. He took his shit and grievances to BadWebComics wiki under the name TheToyTaker while also seemingly trying to get work at Spindlehorse in order to have access to Viv directly and to 'fix' her show. He did so by faking his animation portfolio. BWW did eventually catch on and kick him out but yeah....bad. May or may not still be going under his old pseudonyms, but regardless if you see someone talking weirdly sexually abt Viv while saying they were "let go" both by SH and BWW, get out now. That's probably him.

Animation Call-Out - Bigoted shitlord. Twitter user who rags on Vivz' controversies w other people but also hates gays and BIPOCs. Admitted to submitting one of the anonymous reviews against Spindlehorse "for fun" amidst legitimate ex-employees. All of the reviews, even the ones that seem the most validating/believable should be taken with a grain of salt I believe especially since they are coming to us anonymously, but when a racist person admits to def being one of those fake reviews for "Lolz" sake, that's def when shit's hit the fan.

DoodleToons - Also bigoted creeperlooser. Altright white kid who hates BIPOC existing in anything and admits to hating Viv's stuff for their LGBTisms and 'demons'. Yes, there legit are bad-faith critics who are homophobic. Just because Viv and her crew have a way of saying that's EVERY critic of her work doesn't mean there aren't shitty people out there.

#read first paragraph #I'm not putting Lemon or Chai or whoever here just cuz u don't like em #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #call out post #call out tw #hazbin hotel critical #spindlehorse critical #critical fandom

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sundasystems · 2 months

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1. The Letter That Started It All

On a sunny day in late May, I received a letter from someone whom I'd corresponded with on a story years earlier. The letter was confusing and fairly alarming. I will attach it here:

Something is going on here. I'm missing time. I can't seem to remember what my job is, but I know I've been doing it. And I get all warm inside when I think about work. A little voice in my head is saying I'm doing a good job. But at WHAT? I wake up at night from dreams that… I can't remember. Or won't remember. Or don't want to remember. My clothes don't fit anymore. When I ask the people here who used to be my friends they all tell me not to worry. That it just means I'm settling in to the job. I don't think I want to settle in. But I also can't seem to leave. Please help me. Emily Voss

Emily had recently taken a job at Sunda Systems, a global conglomerate with it's research headquarters in a North Carolina town known as Eden Springs. Her position was that of an Administrative Assistant in the Optical Research Division.

According to a phone call I'd had with her just after her hiring, she took this position in early April after having been recruited by another employee. I believe his last name was Varas, though I am admittedly basing that on an unremarkable memory from months ago.

That phone call was the last I spoke with Emily until this letter arrived. That was not uncommon. We were not very close friends, just acquaintances and occasional collaborators. She wasn't one to kid around very much, but I couldn't shake the idea that this was all just a practical joke.

Something in the back of my head was convinced that nothing bad could be happening at Sunda. After all their motto is "Connected in Harmony." I have a Sunda modem and router combo here in my apartment, though I'd never given it a second thought until I began this project.

It is for this reason, and a deep regret, that I ignored her letter for days. But it kept nagging at me and so I decided to do some cursory digging. After the glowing reviews from top brass in various governments and corporations, I found a small post on a forum devoted to conspiracy theories. I will post it's contents here:

Does anyone think it's strange that S*nda S*st*ms has a positions listed on their job boards seeking psychologists, psychiatrists, and neurologists? Any company that big has got to be up to no good.

The post is still visible in it's archived form, however the user, who went by w3bofli3s_222 made no posts after that one, and their account has been deactivated. No contact information was available for them.

For their part, that did appear to be true. The job listing website "Karear" contained the above listing for a Behavioral Psychologist who would be making six figures.

What would an internet infrastructure company need with a behavioral psychologist? And what work would they be doing that would allow them a bonus?

Out of curiosity, I inquired. Two hours later, I received a phone call from an unlisted North Carolina area code. The following is a transcript of the relevant parts of that call:

R: Hello there! My name is Reggie. I'm so happy you're interested in the psych position. How can I be of assistance. I: Hello Reggie. It's nice to hear from you. My name is Helen, which I'm sure you know from the form I filled out. I've been job hunting and I was wondering what exactly the job entails. R: Of course I'd be glad to explain everything. Have you heard of our company before? Perhaps you've used one of our devices? I: Yes, my internet provider uses your routers. R: Wonderful. Then you know that our mission is to make the world Connected in Harmony! To that end, we employ several psychological experts to act in concert with human resources. We have some of them monitoring employee morale and productivity. Some act as advisors to help us maintain healthy work cultures. And some act as councilors that are available to our staff. I: That is quite impressive... R: The position we are currently seeking to fill would be one of the advisory roles. We want our employees to be as relaxed and comfortable as possible while on the job. It's very important to us that our employees feel at home here; that they can breath easy and lose all their stress. Would you agree that's important. I: Yes... I would... R: That's good. It's important that prospective employees share our values, the first of course being Connected in Harmony. When people are together, they are understood. When people are understood, they fear less. And when people fear less, they relax more. I: ... R: Helen are you there? I: What? Oh sorry yes! I was just looking at my notes. Now the website mentioned a bonus structure? R: Yes, that's something that we could talk about that more in-depth during a formal interview. We like to reward our advisors when things are running smoothly. If employees are happy, then the psych team is doing it's job well. I: Okay well I think I have what I need for know. Thank you for taking the time to talk. R: Of course. I look forward to seeing your application soon.

It was an odd call. I found myself almost nodding off as he spoke, though I was sure I'd gotten a full night's sleep. I came away from it believing that things couldn't be as bad as Emily made them seem. Sunda was a good company determined to do good in the world.

Right?

But as I logged into my computer, I noticed the little light was on that signals the webcam was active. I checked through all my open windows and nothing should have been accessing the camera. And as I stared at it, confused, it blinked off.

I guess it could have been a glitch, but just in case, I got a small piece of electrical tape and covered the webcam. I left the light exposed, though. Better to know than to blind myself, too.

It was such a little thing, but it was enough. Emily's letter. The weird job listing. The call that made me feel so strange. And now the mysterious webcam activation. It was too many oddities to write off.

It was time to start investigating in earnest.

#sunda lies

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blossom-works · 1 year

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Power Couple

Request (anon): Hiii!! How are you? Can I ask for a kylian request where both the reader and him go on Ridiculousness and it’s just all fluff and jokes, thanks anyway

Thank you for your request! I had to tweak your submission since I don't think Kylian would allow his s/o on a platform like that for privacy's sake. I do hope that I made you proud with this though!

---

About a month ago, you and the board of your hospital agreed that it would be best if you quit your job. Now, why would you quit a job you absolutley loved doing? The reason why both parties agreed to it is because while you were on maternity leave, someone found out you worked at the hospital and told the world. People started coming to (and sneaking in) the hospital just to snap a photo or a short video of you. Some even harrassed you. It got so bad that the safety of the staff, patients, and actual visitors came to the surface.

When you told Kylian about this, he was furious. He took it to his social media and posted a statement saying that he was disappointed with his "fans" behavior. Kylian also said that he would be taking the threats and harassment towards you to court. "I do not take the safety of myself or my family members lightly. All threats and harassment made towards my wife maliciously or jokingly, will be investigated by my legal team."

You cried for days after you left your job. You truly loved it and the kids there. Kylian even asked to take a day off practice to make sure you were okay. Since then, you have been distracting yourself by being a stay-at-home mom. You loved it. You love being able to take care of your child 24/7. In fact, you took pride in it. When Matthew was old enough, you and Kylian enrolled him in daycare. It would be good for him to socialize with babies his age and people who are not you or Kylian. You hated being home alone with no husband or kid to dote on. It was just you and that big ass house.

You brought this to Kylian and you both came up with a solution. Fayza, your mother-in-law, is working on a project for Inspired by KM and she could use your help. You immediately accepted Kylian's proposal and the next week, you were working alongside your mother-in-law. Your first day was pretty easy, just reviewing the project itself and adding your little details. The following days were more hands-on work. You even had to do a small interview with Fayza about the project.

To say that you were nervous was an understatement. You are grateful that Fayze was there to take the lead when you stumbled here and there. While in Bondy, you met the kids there and did so many fun activities with them. From cooking and baking to playing a game of football with them. At that time, the targeted demographic did not know that you were Kylian's wife, but now, people know that Kylian's wife is supporting her husband through his organization.

Now, you are confident when doing your interviews. You added a lot of value to the organization that you ended up being named "director". A position that sits just under Kylian. You even have your own secretary! French news media went wild about how much of a power couple the two of you are. When you were given the position of director, Kylian threw a huge party to celebrate. The more projects you push out in Inspired by KM, the more your face gets recognized. You transferred the knowledge you gathered while working at the hospital and inserted it into Kylian's organization.

You and your family traveled to France a few days ago because you and Kylian have to do an interview there to talk about the latest project of Inspired by KM. Kylian's parents will be at the family home so they can watch their almost one-year-old grandson.

The two of you agreed to stick to a neutral-colored wardrobe. Kylian is wearing a white button-down and black slacks with some loafers and as always, donning a HUBLOT watch. You chose to wear something a little more dressy. A back shirt and blazer with a pair of beige, velvet pants and nude heels. You tied your hair in a low bun and are wearing an Olivia Burton watch Kylian got you for your first anniversary. Quite the power couple look indeed.

(Bold dialect will be in French)

"Mrs. Mbappe, it's well known that you joined your husband's organization because you lost your job at a Spanish hospital. How was that like for you?"

Ah, a question you have heard and answered a dozen times before.

"It was hard. I loved my job but the board and I came to a mutual understanding and agreement. Both parties agreed that it was no longer about whether or not I should keep my job, but it was about the safety of the people who worked and were administered there."

The interviewer nods and writes down a couple of notes. He then asks Kylian how he felt about the situation. Kylian just said that he was angry for you and did what he could to protect you. He calls the incident a blessing in disguise because you have done so much for his organization, and it has made the two of you closer as a couple.

"You gave birth in the fall of last year, correct? Has motherhood clashed with your duties for Inspired by KM?"

"No, it hasn't. I'm thankful for my husband's resources that allow me to work with Inspired by KM. Motherhood has made me a more nurturing woman which helps with my job at KM."

Again, he nods and writes down some notes. The interview so far is a bit redundant. His questions have been questions you have answered before, just worded differently. It does not help that the interview is a live one (with a live audience), so you cannot make any signs that show your disinterest.

"So, the recent project Inspired by KM was actually partnered with UNICEF. Can you tell me how that happened, Mrs. Mbappe?"

Finally! A question about the project that was recently launched.

"Certainly! I have always admired the work that UNICEF does and our missions align. One is just more global than the other. I shared my desire to expand KM's reach to children all over the world with my husband and our board at KM. Everyone came to an agreement and I wrote a proposal partnership to the general director of UNICEF."

"Why did you agree to it Kylian? Other than it being because your wife wanted to."

"When my love first brought the idea up, it was just the two of us. She had already come up with the project's structure and it was all very detailed. It wasn't just something she came up with on a whim. My wife did her research because she truly wished to make the project a reality. She was very passionate. She was still passionate when she proposed the idea during a board meeting. My wife supports me by cheering for me in the stands when I'm playing, and she supports me by working for my organization. I agreed because I want to support her."

The audience watching clap for Kylian's response. They even hollar when you kiss Kylian's cheek in appreciation. You are so glad that you are wearing makeup that hides your blushing face (besides the actual blush used).

"I want to bring attention to this projection screen here." The interviewer motions to the object. The projection turns on and a video pops up. The play button is clicked and when the first frame comes on, you hide your face into Kylian's shoulder in embarrassment. He too hides his face in your hair in embarrassment.

What on earth is being displayed to make you and Kylian want to hide from the world? It is a video of you and Kylian carelessly dancing in the office building. To destress the two of you, Kylian put on some music and coerced you to dance with him. Neither of you realized that Wilfried recorded the moment.

In the video, neither of you cares to observe your surroundings. Heck, one part of the video shows Kylian trying to twerk to the beat of the music. The room fills with laughter and you and Kylian are trying your best to shrink yourselves. Oh God! This entire interview is being broadcast! - Live!

Thankfully, the video stops at one minute and the torture is over. Takes a couple of seconds for the laughter to die down which does not help with your embarrassment. You are pretty sure your blushing face is showing through your makeup, but you can only know when the videos and photos of today come out. You lift your head off of Kylian's shoulder and fan your face. Kylian is busy wiping the tears of laughter and pain away from the corner of his eye.

"Well, it seems like the two of you do a great job at supporting each other." The interviewer coughs out. "In all seriousness, it's great to see two busy people such as yourselves enjoying the small moments in life. It's relatable and I believe it brings a positive message to people that they should have fun when they can."

Your husband speaks up. "I agree. It's like with football. I have to be serious when I'm on the pitch but when I'm off, I can have some fun and enjoy life. Enjoy the life I have with my wife." Kylian reaches over and holds your hand in a tight grip. He brings the back of your hand to his mouth and plants a firm kiss on it. The star athlete is never big on PDA. He always finds a way to hold onto you though. It could be hand holding or putting his hand on your waist or the small of your back. The most PDA Kylian will do is a kiss on your head or a small peck on the lips.

For the remainder of the interview, Kylian never let go of your hand. The two of you had to stay an hour or two after the interview to do some fan service (mainly Kylian). Many of his fans came up to you and asked how Matthew was doing. It warms your heart to know that there are people who you do not know, who care about your small family. You tell them how Matthew is a wiggle worm and how he loves to eat squash. He hates tomatoes and is unsure about cucumbers. Bread and cheese though, Matthew would live off of it if he could (French genes amirte).

A little far from you, you think you hear someone asking Kylian if he can teach them how to twerk. Your husband persistently declines the request that was clearly made to poke fun at him. Gosh, that video is going to haunt him forever, huh? Mentally, Kylian sarcastically thanks his father. The day was eventful for the two of you. Over the course of a few months, you have learned how to see the blessings in the curse. You found a way to help children not just in your community, but to the children spread across the globe.

---

Hope my little newsletter isn't too cringy or pathetic

#x reader #fanfiction #football #kylian x reader #kylian mbappe #mbappe x reader #kylian mabppe x reader #kylian mbappé imagine #football imagine

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abbysimsfun · 17 days

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 38 (Running Into Fate in San Myshuno?)

When Heather delivered her son to San Myshuno for time with his father a few weeks later, she decided to stay in town until Sunday to spend time with her loved ones. While visiting the Casbah Gallery so Kris could review a new art show, she found herself a third wheel to her loved up sister and brother-in-law.

Stepping into the muggy summer air, she spotted a familiar dog bounding toward her across the plaza.

She grinned as Gord jumped into her open arms, laughing as he happily tried to bowl her over. Conrad raced up behind his dog dressed casually in blue, which brought out his eyes.

"Sorry! He's been cooped up all day. I thought I could trust him without a leash but I should know better by now."

"Never apologize for a happy pet. I told you at the clinic, it's the best feeling in the world!"

Gord entertained himself sniffing around the plaza. "He's been in great shape since his check up, thanks to you."

Heather's cheeks flushed, disguised by the neon lights of the city. "There was nothing wrong with him when you came in. I just gave him a preventative shot and a wellness treat. And a bottle of shampoo."

"He knocked it right out of my hand when I gave him a bath later that night. Spilled all over the bathroom tiles." He groaned at the memory. "But hey, they've never been cleaner and now the tiles won't get fleas."

She laughed, searching for something to say that didn't make her sound like an idiot. "There go your dreams of running a flea circus!" Watcher, that wasn't it.

Conrad smiled. "What brings you to San Myshuno?"

She sighed, trying not to speak of Malcolm with too much venom in her voice. "My son's with his father this weekend and I'm spending time with some family in town," she explained.

"Sounds like cooler heads might be prevailing between you two," he said. "That's a good thing."

Heather raised an eyebrow. "Malcolm said someone convinced his family to let cooler heads prevail. You didn't..."

"My dad worked Landgraab security for decades," said Conrad. "He retired after Nancy took over the company from her father, but I used to know Malcolm pretty well when we were kids, before he left for boarding school. He's not the nicest guy in the world, but the Landgraabs love money and reputation too much to be completely unreasonable."

"Why get involved at all? I'm not saying I didn't need an advocate after what I did, but what do you owe me, really?"

"Nothing. But Landgraab Corp. was ready to spit you out and send you to prison for the hack, and when I saw you with your son, I...the Landgraabs lost more in pride than market share and I'd already been asked to deal with the case under the table."

Heather scoffed. "Nancy Landgraab doesn't like to do anything legally. I heard she stole the company from her father."

"It wasn't exactly like that. Chester Landgraab was getting older, and Nancy did what she did because he was too ill to realize he couldn't run the company anymore. My dad said he was close to gambling away the business to build a spaceport on Sixam!"

"Doing what?!"

"He wouldn't even say! My dad was ready for retirement and relieved when Nancy told him to collect his pension. Her father stayed in Ciudad Enamorada after the vote and she cleaned house. Even fired her own brother." Heather inhaled. No wonder Johnny hated his sister. "I don't mean to say that makes Landgraab Corp. a shining example of the right way to do business, but..."

"But thank you," she said. "It's no small thing what you did."

Conrad's cheeks flushed. "So, are you in town all weekend?"

"Until Sunday."

A nervous silence passed between them. Heather's gregarious younger sister, Holly, had been curiously spying from a distance, waiting for her husband to finish networking before she dragged him toward Heather and the handsome man in blue.

She greeted him with a wide smile. "Hi there! My name's Holly and this is my husband Kris. We were just wondering what you and my sister were talking about."

He greeted them respectfully. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Conrad, and I got to know your sister through a recent investigation. We were just getting caught up."

Holly's eyes bulged. "Is this him?!"

Heather blushed and Kris shook Conrad's hand. "My wife's just wondering if you're the detective who visited Heather about her recent felony."

Heather wanted to crawl into the sewers and hide from the creeping embarrassment, but Conrad couldn't pull his gaze. He smiled as she fiddled awkwardly with a ball of clay she'd grabbed from the gallery. "That would be the investigation, but the Landgraabs never charged anyone."

"Apparently, Conrad knew Malcolm when they were kids and convinced the Landgraabs not to press charges."

Holly looked at Conrad with an impressed grin. "Are you a cop or my sister's knight in shining armour?"

"Holly, don't," Heather pleaded, but she couldn't wipe the stupid grin from her face.

"Come out with us tomorrow night," Holly suggested, because she knew her unflirty sister needed a push. "A bunch of us are going to the Romance Festival. We were going to bring my sister along to try to find her a date, but I think she's already found one."

Conrad blushed, and Kris again stepped forward. "It's a bit over the top and everyone always gets too flirty on Sakura tea, but if you're not doing anything, the more the merrier."

Heather was afraid to speak, trying not to stare at his gorgeous blue eyes, but she wanted him to say yes.

"I'd love to." Conrad grinned, but they were interrupted when Gord sped across the plaza to chase a raccoon. "Damn, and he's off. Gotta go!" He called after her while trying to catch up with his dog. "I'll meet you at the festival tomorrow. Four o'clock?"

"Four's great. See you then!" Heather smiled to herself. She couldn't wipe the blush from her cheeks and turned to her sister and brother-in-law. "Let's go inside where there's air con. It's hot out here."

"He's so hot!" Holly cried. "No wonder you're sweating."

Heather worried she’d make the same mistakes again, afraid to trust her instincts. But at least she wouldn't be alone tomorrow, if it was horrible... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #san myshuno

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sphaxcca · 4 months

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My Candy Love New Gen ep. 4 Review

Here I am after finishing the last episode of MCL New Gen ready to give my honest and unasked opinion about it. Fasten your seatbelts cause we are about to start and i'm not gonna be gentle

LET'S TALK ABOUT IT...

So the episode opens with Elenda who's basically trying to drag us so bad to the Cosey Bear because apparently Castiel was serving there ( No judgement toward Elenda, i wanted to see my husband too). Unfortunately for me and her, he already had left when we showed up to the Cafe. >3>.

Seeing Lynn animated was so cute and a little bit nostalgic but nothing compared to the GASP I emitted when she started talking to Thomas and he told her he was in love with her. GEEEEZ, now i get why that kid was a pain in the ass and RUINED my pic-nic date with Tomato head, THE DOTS CONNECTED. Btw it was a very cute scene and a tribute to Iris that I hope she will show up in Thomas' route.

Moving on, inspired by Thomas' love confession, everybody starts talking about their love life (expected since the episode's name is hearts looking for love). And this is where things went horribly cringe and outrageous: Ofc i'm not talking about Elenda and Devon ( It was cute to know that she had a crush on Devon and, about him, a little peak to where the story is possibly going to lead - a busy man that works his ass off so bad for Devenementiel and has no time to date)or Amanda but about ROY and BRUNE.

Hoooooly shit, the chill of second hand embarassment that I got just by reading the interractions between these two was undescribable I swear( Elenda became basically my guide spirit: her reaction was the same i had. ). Everything was so outofcontext and nonsense that I'm actually wondering why Beemov decided it was a great idea to give space to something so....childish? I mean, we're talking about (almost) 30yo people.. and they got together because they were...desperate??????? - "Yeah with my exes things weren't doing good so we decided to date even tho we don't talk, don't touch and fell uncomfortable with each other" - COOOME ON, BFR, you guys ok? Also, I really hope that we're gonna discover something deeper about Roy (or that he's going to get a development at least) that makes him more that what i can pick up and feel from him right now: childish Gymrat fixed on pool that give us nothing. I'm genuine deluded about the way they handled this.

Moving on to JASON PART. He basically shows up when we're still talking sitted by the table. I was obviously expecting the part where he was going to be pointed out as a "womanizer" but what I DID NOT EXPECT was the reaction he had when he overhears our conversation: I felt him being sarcastic as usual but at the end i felt he was kinda....hurt??? idk if you get what i mean, he literally said he had REASONS why he doesn't want to be in full term relationship and this opens my mind to an INFINITE AMOUNT OF THEORIES

Connected to what I've read on some theories here, someone said it's because of the condition ( or the pathology) that made his hair go white...

This is a really good point but I genuine think about something else that is connected to this and the SHOCK NUMBER 2: Why Devenementiel hates Jason so much?

Apparently our "proud and superior" man with an incredible fragile ego had PLAGIARIZED the project the would have helped Devon to found Devenementiel and, because of that, he was fired and disqualified by the contest. So...first things first: PIECE OF SHIT. Secondly, I genuine would have never thought about him doing something like this and that's the reason why i don't think he did it because he wanted to but perphaps he WAS PUSHED to do so.

Another theorie said that probably he was helped by a third person that played dirty and suggested him the same project Devon did

And I have to admit that this is something very likely, but stil don't really convince me too much.

We can clearly see that Jason has a lot of money, A LOT, and by the way he has so much money i'm assuming he comes from a family that at least has the same amount of capital he has now. We got told that he was basically working as an employer (if i remember correctly) so why trying to steal something from others if you are satisfied and don't need a job? perhaps because you NEED that first place to REDEEM yourself and PROVE someone wrong at least so that.. THE END JUSTIFIES THE MEANS. That's where his family and the white hair make their part: A Dad Ceo that basically disgraced his Son because he couldn't follow or keep up with the family business or - he wasn't good enough- for the role ( and that's why the white hair, because of the stress) . Another thing that might prove this is the fact that Devon told us that he had "private investors" and...i mean, if you're broke, i don't think you can find them just by snapping your fingers and make them appear in front of you, especially when you get fired and disqualified in a competition. He could have use the "family" name and hi charisma to persuade the investors to help him found Goldreamz. And THIS leads me to the last point: Why no long term relationship? Because his family has to end with him and he's scared of the consequences that a partner can have in his life. This reminded me so much Simon from Bridgerton btw. So yeah...I might be wrong (99%) but i want to think that he's a piece of shit just because he's hurt.

His special scene was normal i guess, i love the way my candy was looking at the instagram photos be like - "i'm just studying the enemy...not doing something wrong..maybe".

In the end i decided to try for the Thomas illustration and nothing to complain about, the scene was genuine one of the most cute one in the game so fare and the ilusstration 10/10 chef's kiss and handshake by the president.

#mcl new gen #amour sucre #my candy love #my candy love new gen #mcl #mcl jason #amor doce #beemoov #dolce flirt #corazón de melón #mcl new gen review #amour sucre new gen #corazon de melon new gen #mcl roy #mcl devon #mcl amanda #mcl thomas

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press-theshift-key-unlimited · 10 months

Text

Adore

A/N: I found this from a while ago. Don't remember why I never posted it, but here you go.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hermione POV:

When I met Y/n, it was on the train to Hogwarts in year 1. I had just boarded the Hogwarts Express and was looking for a place to sit when I had come across her sitting alone in one of the compartments.

I knocked on the door and she turned her head towards me and gave me a small smile. “Do you mind if I sit here?” I had asked.

“No of course,” she said and gestured me to come in.

I sat across from her and her smile grew.

“My names Y/n, Y/n Y/ln,” she put her hand out to shake and I put mine in hers.

“I’m Hermione Granger, it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, you have a beautiful name,” she pulled her hand back into her lap as my smile grew more at her compliment.

“Thank you, I like your name as well,”

We sat there in silence for a bit as she looked out the window. We hadn’t moved yet and we were on the side of the train with no people visible.

“What are you looking at?”

“Hm? Oh nothing in particular, i’m just waiting for the train to move,”

I hummed as she continued.

“Is this your first year?” she asked as she looked back at me.

“Yes it is, is it yours?”

She nodded and I felt more at ease. At least I met someone in my year. “Have you ever heard of Hogwarts? Before you got your letter I mean.”

“No. I’m a muggle-born so all of this is very new to me. However, I have read a lot about this stuff.”

“Well you know, knowing something and experiencing it could come to be very different things,” she looked back at me with an eyebrow raised. “Or at least that’s what my Uncle tells me,” she chuckled a bit and we heard the train horn sound as we started to move along the tracks.

We could hear a commotion across from our seats as kids started sticking their heads out of the windows and yelling goodbye’s and I love you’s to their families once more.

~ ~ ~ ~

That train ride is what sparked our friendship and we have been best friends for 5 years now. We’re in our 6th year and are sharing a dorm together. Good thing we were both put in Gryffindor, along with our other friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. We met them on the train as well in year 1, but that was because a boy named Neville lost his toad and we had offered to help him look for it.

Which led us to asking the pair if they had seen it, safe to say that at first the four of us were split between duos. The boys didn’t seem to take a liking to me, especially Ron, yet Y/n had somehow befriended them. I mean I understand how, she’s someone you just always want to have around if you can. But she stuck with me the whole time. It wasn’t until the three of them had saved me from being, as Y/n puts it, bonked down to a pancake, by a troll in the girl’s bathroom that we all finally joined together as a group. Y/n likes to think of us as ‘The Golden Squad, I think it’s a bit stupid but my opinion seems to not matter in this case as Ron agreed to the name and Harry just went along with it, saying it had a nice ring to it.

But I digress. Currently i’m heading back to my dorm from the library. We have a test in potions next week that I wanted to review for. Y/n was going to come with me, but she cancelled last minute. To say I was hurt wouldn’t be a lie, but she said she needed to do something and could study later. So I left and am now on my way back, hopefully she’ll tell me what it was that she had to do that prohibited her from joining me in the library.

I got through the portrait hole and up the stairs towards the dormitories. As I was nearing our dorm, I heard the soft strum of a guitar coming from behind the door. I slowly walked up and put my ear to the wood to listen.

You were a phonograph, I was a kid

I sat with an ear close, just listening

I could hear Y/n softly singing, her voice muffled by the space between us but still clear enough to understand.

Was there when the rain tapped her way down you face

You were a miracle, I was just holding your space

She sounded calm and sang with a low hum as she continued to pick the strings of her guitar. I always found her voice to be endearing, singing or not. It calmed me and I found some kind of peace and joy whenever I heard it. I’ve never told her this of course, because that would be weird..right?

I decided to stop standing out in the hallway and slowly open the door, hoping that she wouldn’t notice and continue to play. But as soon as I peered my head into the room she looked up from her journal and stopped what she was doing. She gave me a smile, a smile i’ve grown to love seeing, and put down her guitar as she walked over to me.

“Hey ‘Mione,” she greeted as she gave me a hug.

I smiled and reciprocated, easing my head on her neck and giving her a muffled “Hey Y/nn.”

She kissed the top of my head and pulled away from me, going back to her side of the room. “How was your studying?”

“It was alright, wish you were there. Why weren’t you by the way?”

“Oh I needed to finish something important. But i’m done with it now,” she put her guitar on its stand and sat on her bed. I hummed and set my stuff down on my desk. I turned around to find her laying on her back just staring up at the ceiling. I smirked and backed up a little before bolting straight for her bed and yelling. She shot her head up and opened her arms letting me land on top of her as I threw myself onto the bed.

We laughed and she hit me with one of her pillows.

“What have I told you about doing that?”

I thought about it for a moment before replying, “That you love it when i’m on top.”

She shook her head and set her pillow back down. Getting comfortable, I laid my head on her chest as she had one hand around my waist, the other playing with my hair. “You’re going to be the end of me ‘Mione,” she sighed and I stifled a laugh.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I pouted and she just laughed.

“With you Granger? It’s an honor,”

I blushed and dug my face into her chest, “shut up,”

#hermione granger x reader #harry potter #idk how to tag this

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anneapocalypse · 3 months

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Canon review for fic purposes is ever ongoing and rewatching the cutscenes where you first meet the Scions I am struck by how... simplified, I guess, Minfilia's introduction of the Archons is.

Tell me, does the name Sharlayan ring any bells? It used to be one of Eorzea's six city-states, and was situated in the northwest of Aldenard. The Sharlayans were the keepers of wisdom both old and new. Their mastery over magic and aether was unsurpassed, and even the Garleans knew to fear them. Among their number, there were a noble few who devoted their lives to safeguarding the future of Eorzea. When the realm began its descent into chaos, and their countrymen fled for the motherland, they alone chose to remain here. These noble men and women were called the Archons. Those same brave souls stand before you now.

Like it's not not true but it also really does not convey the lore that we get later or (to the best of my understanding) what actually happened in 1.0. When she says "When the realm began its descent into chaos, and their countrymen fled for the motherland," that sounds like she's talking about the Calamity, except the exodus from the Sharlayan colony actually happened in 1562 of the Sixth Umbral Era, 15 years before ARR (Twelve preserve me, the dating system gives me a headache).

For context Urianger is 29 in ARR, meaning that at the time of the exodus he was approximately 14 years of age. :P I think needless to say, he was not one of those who "chose to remain here" when his countrymen fled; he was still a kid at the time, and only joined Louisoix's Circle of Knowing as an adult (unless there's some absolutely buckwild Urianger lore I'm unaware of and Alphinaud wasn't actually the youngest kid to enter the Studium). Lyse is 25, and Thancred is 32. Y'shtola's age seems to be subject to some canon discrepancies according to the wiki, but she's at most no older than Thancred.

But Minfilia's intro really makes it sound like it's these Archons, in this room, who stayed in Eorzea when the exodus happened, and it's just really weird. I also don't know why they made it sound like "Archons" refers specifically to Louisoix's group (when it does not), and didn't just reference the Circle of Knowing. It's not like that was later backfill; I'm pretty sure that was in 1.0.

All of which led me to wonder: what about Moenbryda?

And this led me to her wiki page, upon which I realized I've apparently been laboring under a misconception this entire time. I had thought Moenbryda and Urianger grew up in Old Sharlayan. But this is straight from Encyclopedia Eorzea:

...eventually the two grew close, and were often found in the Great Gubal Library reading tomes and eating cockatrice meatballs (p. 191).

That's the colony, not Old Sharlayan! So, were they both born in the colony? It certainly seems like Moenbryda was, as her bio begins "Born in Sharlayan..." and in earlier canon that's always used to refer to the colony, and since they met as children, presumably they both were.

Both of them would have moved to Old Sharlayan at 14 when the exodus happened, and then they both went to the Studium, so that's all fine.

Here's where I have questions!

After striking a talent in aetheric research she became an Archon and was in the Circle of Knowing, however, Louisoix told her to stay in Sharlayan, an order she followed with great difficulty.

Which Sharlayan?

At this point I'm just not sure how literally to take Minfilia's introduction. So many other pieces of canon state that no one stayed in the colony after the exodus except Matoya, so by "chose to remain here" I assume that Minfilia doesn't mean the colony but Eorzea generally. By the time Moenbryda was an Archon and part of the Circle of Knowing, there was no more colony for her to stay in. But it also says "stay," not "go back."

So are we meant to understand that the Circle of Knowing were traveling back and forth between Old Sharlayan and Eorzea for some time in that decade before the Calamity? Or, given that Alphinaud has dialogue about Urianger being frequently present in their home when they were growing up, did Louisoix in fact go home with the Exodus, and only return to Eorzea years later? I feel like that must be it, even though it makes Minfilia's introduction a pretty drastic oversimplification.

It's early game exposition, so I can let it go, but I just have to remember not to really treat it as reliable canon.

#ffxiv stuff #hi thanks for coming down this rabbit hole with me #and now i need to go to bed lol #i needed to go to be half an hour ago

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thecomfywriter · 1 month

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Hello there!

I saw Italy has one of the non mage locations for ToV.

I'm Italian so it caught my attention 😉

Can you tell us a bit more about it?

oof okay okay! Thank you for the ask @gioiaalbanoart ! So, Italy doesn't have a huge presence in the book, in truth. The cast (Morreial, Alan, and Amara) only visit it once when they're travelling the Non-Mage, but it's where they meet a very important character named Pietro Candreva.

I don't know if I've mentioned him before. Maybe in passing. But he's the only character in the entire cast who is 100% a non-mage, meaning he has no magic whatsoever.

Pietro is the son of a blacksmith, who takes a hobby in throwing knives and making weapons. He has a seeing-aid dog named Rosco, who helps him navigate around the city (he is blind), and thus conducts most of his hobbies in the mangolia tree garden, outside his father's supervision. Pietro calls Rosco, 'his eyes', and the dog-owner bond between them is so precious ugh I love them.

He uses Rosco to help him learn how to throw knives and sense the world around him. He is often seen walking around with his hand on Rosco's head, using him for stability and guidance, but it's more for Rosco's comfort than his own, since it is later proven he doesn't really need Rosco in all situations anymore.

Pietro is the person who teaches Alan about weapons, the different types (based on what he learned from his father), and gifts him his first dagger. He also ends up being Amara's friend, her armsmaster, and SPOILERS FOR THE LIGHT OF THE FLAME SERIES: he ends up becoming the chief commander of the Soilailan military.

I love Pietro. He's sarcastic, bland, and over everyone's bullshit, but he loves showing off his love for weapons. I'll give you some notable quotes from him, but yes.. i apologize for going on a character rant instead of a location rant. Unfortunately, Italy really only acts as the meet-cute location for this integral character.

Pietro Quotes/Descriptions:

"Thank you for telling me my own life story. I had no idea."

Rosco received the package and handed it to Pietro to review. His dozens of winter scarves, gloves, and cloaks (amongst a wide assortment of thick attire), as well as the protective oils for the skin, were contained within that leather bag. His hands studied each with a touch so gentle, one would easily forget he was the son of a blacksmith, toughened and calloused harder than the leather he wore. One would easily overlook the display of various blades or ignore the party room he had transformed into a blacksmiths station to forge all his goods. If one were simply to judge Pietro based on the tenderness of his character—the softness in his clouded eyes, the discipline in his posture, the elegant handle of all his movements—one would easily mistake him for an artist of sculptures or paints, rather than a man of the anvil and hammer.

Pietro stared at me blankly, like I had asked the rudest question in the world. I didn’t discover this until literally three months later, but turns out the kid hated repeating himself. Pretentious much? But whatever.

As I found the doors of the villa again, I made sure to drop by Pietro’s room first to ask him instructions on how to find the place again. “You will be coming back?” he inquired rudely.

Rosco snarled at me, nearly ripping a chunk of my torso off if Pietro did not bark at him sharply. He gasped, then winced, then bit his cheek until it drew blood. But the boy did not cry. His dogs whimpered more than he did.

He shrugged and whistled an unknown command to Rosco as he left. Of nowhere, Rosco sprinted towards me, jumping onto his hind legs and nipping my blouse with a gruff bark. I yelped, backing as far from him as I could only to lose my balance and fall directly into the well. When I recovered from the splash, it was to the chuckling sight of Pietro tossing a treat to Rosco and affirming him with, “Good boy”. I watched him as he left, hand on Rosco’s head and gait as strong and confident as a boy with pride. All his trust was in that dog. All Rosco’s loyalty was to Pietro, in his slow speed that he matched with patience and devotion. They relied on one another

“Well done. You brought me highly radioactive material. I am guessing it is emitting a very bright glow right now.”

✧༺♥༻∞

Okay I'll cap it there. I do love this man though.

Cheerios! And thank you again for the ask

✧༺♥༻∞

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vxyio · 7 months

Text

PJO BOOK REVIEW!!

I finished book one 🥲

The lighting Thief: completed on 3/5l2024

This book was AMAZING! I got pretty emotional for finishing this book, because it's the first book I really enjoyed and only took a week to read. It is also the first book I was exited to read (mainly because of my cousin and the pjo show) I know there's another reason on how emotional I got, but I can't put my finger on it. I had an amazing roller coaster of emotions. This book is worth the read. It was better then I expected! Different and more hilarious than I thought, but still emotional and amazing. There's so many scenes I love. I can't wait to read the next book ❤

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

The sea of monsters : started 3/5/2024 Completed:3/15/2024

GROVER IN A MADE DRESS.

This book was magnificent!!! It was a perfect mix of comedy, drama, stress, emotional moments and plot twists. Lemme just say, Tyson is so adorable 😭 he is the definition of a gentle giant (literally).He loves percy :3 he is SO sweet and TOO innocent and I find it js so AEUGGHH. So wholesome.The making of percybeth has begun 😈. I'm happy Clarisse got more time plus, she was actually helpful- The plot twists are insane 😭and I js love em! But oh my gods, the comedy. THE COMEDY. I JUST LOVE IT!!! And Thalia is backk!! Our lil emo queen! Annywho, I'm super exited to begin the next book!

The Titan's Curse: started 3/16/2024 completed: 4/1/2024

This book was AEEEHHH!!! The plot was so good and hilarious (like all of the other books). The new characters are so cool!! Nico, the hunters, even the manticore. I'm pretty sure biana died, but maybe there will been a plot twist? I don't know. Annabeths dad is SO cool like what- I'm happy percy and posiden got to chat a bit more. And dang, holding the sky? I would've died I'm 2 seconds flat. Zoe's death was so sad. She was a great brave hunter. Rip ❤.Overall this book was amazing. Can't wait to read the next book!

The battle of Lybrinth: Started 4/2/2024 Completed: 4/17/24

This book was AGGHH! It's my favorite one ove read so far! The humor is great and there were SO many HUGE and funny plot twists. I kid you not, when anabeth kissed Percy I stared into space with a flabbergasted face for like five minutes. What pissed me off a bit was after YEARS of searching for pan, HE WAS FOUND AND JS SAID "yeah I'm out"AND FLIPPING DIED. LIKE WTF PAN??!Miss O'Leary was SO CUTE I loved her from the start. And again, Percy at it with accurately naming dog breeds. I love all the new characters in the book, too. I feel like I got more to talk about but lemme JS stop yapping. I'm SO exited (and scared) to read the last book of the only series I've ever loved. 😔

The las Olympian- started: 4/18/24 completed: 5/12/24

Well...i did it. I complete the first series I've ever loved..

This story was perfect. Everything was perfect. The underwater kiss scene almost left me in tears. I live for all the teamwork that occured. I love teamwork. Rip everyone who passed. At least the couple is now together again 😭.. I understand why Percy took down the offer for being a God. I would too.honestly everything about the story is js EAAAHHH. Screaming, crying,and throwing up rn-.this story is so emotional for me.Not because it's sad. But because of the memories it gave me. I got so emotional finishing this book. The first book I ever loved.My journey is over. Well, for now.

Here's the bookmark that carried me throughout my journey.thank you

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo series #book #rick riordan #review #Amazing book!#Worth the read #greek mythology #anabeth chase #grover underwood #the lightning thief #the sea of monsters #the titans curse #the last olympian

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klausysworld · 2 years

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HI can you do a one shot in which the reader is gamer x YouTuber x dancer .

She has over 20 million subs on her all three channels.

She us dateing Klaus and he and his family do not know about her being a YouTuber .

Hope being her very big fan .They get to know about her being a YouTuber by hope.

They confront reader abot this .

Can you make it funny like they don't have any idea of what a YouTuber a gamer means .

Reader name : malika

Channel 1 name : gamer queen

Channel 2 name : white wolf

Channel 3 name : dancing doll.

Thanks

Simply adorable

“and we are live, this is my…step daughter? i dunno what do we call each other? we’re sorta just friends anyway so anyway we are here because Hope is going to teach me her newest dance routine. She has been going to lessons recently and wants to become a dancing doll 2.0” You introduced the kid as she adjusted the camera angle

“i think i should get my own name like twinkling tribrid?…that sounded..better in my head”

“uhuh sure it did” you muttered as Hope muttered different names that she thought would suit her

“right so now that we’re ready, lets-“

“Hey have either of you seen my paints….why is there a camera?” both Hope and yourself jumped to your feet and smiled suspiciously as Hope picked the screen up and ran off to the next room saying something to the followers.

“Paints are in the cupboard, top shelf, back left corner of your art room, i moved them cuz that way it’s easier to put the brushes on the bottom and the palettes in the middle” Klaus nodded his head as he eyed you for a moment

“what’re you and Hope doing?”

“dancing”

“dancing?”

“mhm you wanna see? we jump about and play loud upbeat music-“

“you know what? i think i’m just going to paint for a bit..i’ll see you in a bit though yea? Love you sweetheart” he softly kissed your lips before leaving the room and closing the door behind him

“may or may not have got that on the live” Hope giggled from the corner as you groaned and saw all the comments calling your boyfriend hot and irresistible.

A couple days later you were on your ‘Gamer Queen’ account and halfway through your game when Elijah walked in behind you. You didn’t hear him as you were wearing headphones talking to other players but he stayed and watched for a minute as you discussed what you needed to do. His confusion was beyond it had ever been before as be stood there awkwardly, it wasn’t until the person you were playing with asked who the guy was did you turn around

“Elijah! You’re in here! What’s up, you need something?” you desperately moved to block the screen and you muted yourself and spun round

“just leaving actually” he smiled quickly before striding out of the room

“shit”

It was when you were on your ‘White Wolf’ youtube channel filming that you were interrupted again. You were wearing your white headphones that had little wolf ears on the top and you were reviewing a video game that people had been begging you to tell them about. You were pointing something out when the door swung open

“i accidentally told Bekah and Kol that you were on youtube and now the whole family are watching your videos and cuz you talk about your gaming on the channel they might’ve clicked the link and saw you on that too… then dad said he saw you with a camera and we were talking about dancing and they may or may not have found the dancing doll account….” Hope spat out in one breath before panting heavily

“oh…that’s just great…right lets just log off and um i dunno jump out a window or something” Hope deadpanned you as you stared blankly back

“well!?” she exclaimed

“i don’t know!? they were never meant to find out! you said they were oblivious to the modern world!”

“they are! have you seen dad on his phone?? the man can’t even text he writes it with a pen!” we both spoke in harsh whispers before we heard a throat being cleared from the door and we hesitantly turned to see the entire family looking at us quizzically

“you’re still wearing the headset” hope mumbled almost inaudibly, you quickly took it off and turned the computer off

“sooo….nice day out”

“it’s raining”

“did i ask you Hope?”

a throat cleared again and Klaus raised a brow

“what’s a you-tube?” Kol asked making you sigh

“it’s an online social media platform, you can watch…or make videos and other people can see them”

“over 20 million people have been and still are watching your life?” Rebekah asked her confusion clear as she glanced at Marcel who shrugged and looked back at his phone

“well not my every living second, only the bigs i want to show-“

“why am i in this video?” Marcel cut you off shoving the phone in your face to show you a clip of marcel dancing in the kitchen making you and Hope hold in your laughter

“well-“

“for her dancey channel obviously!” Kol stated loudly rolling his eyes

“oh dear god” you mumbled pinching the bridge of your nose

“Malika, love, i would like to know what your little friends mean by the word ‘dilf’?” your eyes widened as you watched Klaus scroll through the comments of the video he was accidentally in

“shit! fuck! its nothinggg” you could hear Davina giggling and held in your own laughter as he kept scrolling. His face grew a little pink as he turned the screen off

“never mind i googled it, which i can do by the way by typing” Hope burst into a fit if giggles

“forgive me Malika but i still don’t understand the concept” Elijah mumbled and furrowed his brows as he studied the screen

“its for entertainment”

“not my kinda entertainment” Kol snickered and Davina smacked his arm

“oh but uncle kol haven’t you seen the super duper hilarious video of you yet? you know the one when you were convinced you were a rapper after you drank too much of dads best bourb-“ Kol quickly vamped over and pulled Hope into a bear hug

“ahahahaha you’re so silly, lets move on yea?” he picked her up and zoomed them out of the room along with Davina

“as long as it’s harmless i don’t see the issue” Elijah shrugged and walked off

“i’m offended i wasn’t offered a dance position if i’m honest” Rebekah pouted playfully before breaking into a smile and giving you a hug

“i’m glad you’re having fun Mal”

Klaus stayed with his arms crossed

“you never mentioned it”

“i didn’t want you to think it was weird”

he smiled softly and pulled you against his chest

“you’re simply adorable, always, you know this” you hummed in appreciation and hugged him back

“soo…you wanna play a horror game with me?”

182 notes · View notes

beefromanoff · 10 months

Text

Project Mockingbird Ch. 7

summary: Charlotte gets her "made up name", the Avengers have a competition, things are tense with one James Buchanan Barnes...

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: a long chapter to make up for the wait! I hope you like! PS, I hope you guys know and appreciate how hard I scour Pinterest for the perfect visuals for every chapter LMAO

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_______________________________________

The hum of machinery filled the lab as Tony tinkered with a piece of new tech, his attention absorbed in the intricate details. Dr. Banner, occupied at another workstation, eyed the data scrolling on a hologram in front of him.

"Tony, come here for a sec," Bruce called, gesturing him over.

Tony strolled over, moderately annoyed at his focus being broken. "What's the scoop, Doc?"

Bruce pointed at the hologram displaying Charlotte's brain scan. "Take a look at this. It's Charlotte's brain activity."

"Yeah, and?"

Bruce traced a specific section. "See this? It's her neural regulation. Or the lack thereof."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Most people have a sort of built-in governor in their brains. It regulates physical functions, prevents overexertion, and keeps everything in check. But Charlotte…it's like she's missing that feature. Or…it was removed. Her brain doesn't have a 'stop' function."

"Wait, are you saying she can push herself to the point of exhaustion without feeling it?" His eyes narrowed.

Bruce nodded. "Or worse. To the point of exhaustion, then way past it. To the point of injury, or even…” He trailed off. “It's not that she's just enhanced physically; she was altered mentally beyond just the brainwashing. We didn’t see this with Bucky. It’s like they removed the part of her brain that’s supposed to limit her, keep her from hurting herself."

Tony whistled. "That's both incredible for their time and, I don't know, fucking terrifying. Do we want to speculate on motive?”

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I mean…you could argue that they wanted a more efficient weapon. If they had issues with…prior experiments hitting their limits and stopping." He winced at his own words. “They removed any chance of her stopping before the job was done. Even if she tore herself apart in the process.”

A moment of silence passed through the lab as his words hung in the air.

Tony pondered, tapping his fingers on the lab table. "So, do we tell her? She's been through a lot already. I don’t wanna freak the kid out."

"That's what I'm wrestling with. On one hand, it's her body, and she deserves to know. On the other, we risk opening old wounds. She's been through enough experiments, and without doing more, we don’t have any answers for her anyways."

Tony's gaze flickered to the screen. "You think you’d want to know?"

Bruce sighed. "Hard to say. I mean, I’ve been through some shit, but not like her…it could just get in her head. Hell, she might already know. We saw her records, she’d been hospitalized a dozen times for injuries consistent with not knowing when to quit."

Tony leaned against a nearby table. "Alright, Doc, so what's the plan? Do we keep this to ourselves, or do we ask her if she wants more testing?"

Bruce looked conflicted. "Let's give her the choice. I'll talk to her, explain what we found, and see how she wants to proceed. It's her body, her call."

Tony nodded. "Agreed. Just…let’s make sure we’re sure. Review her file, see if there’s anything we missed. Let’s at least give her everything we got when we hit her with this."

As Tony turned to head back to his workstation, the weight of the decision lingered in the air. The delicate balance between shielding Charlotte from more trauma and offering her autonomy over her own discovery rested in Bruce's hands. The uncertainty of the situation hovered over him, a reminder that even for the most brilliant minds, some answers brought more questions than solutions.

“FRIDAY,” He called. “Give me everything we’ve got on Charlotte Rossi.”

_________________________________

“How about CopyCat?”

“It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you to have gotten your ass kicked by someone named CopyCat.”

Peter flushed, laughing despite the teasing. Charlotte nudged him with her foot on the couch, making sure he knew she was kidding…kind of.

The team was sprawled across the living room, lazily passing the evening after a long week of training. Peter, Charlotte, Wanda, and Nat lounged on the oversized sectional, limbs a tangled mess. All of the girls were comforted by physical touch, none of them wanting to outwardly address it, they had an unspoken habit of gathering together on the couch. Peter somehow always ended up in the middle, looking slightly uncomfortable but terrified of moving. Sam sat on the floor, back leaned up against the couch. Steve and Bucky sat on the hearth to the massive fireplace, tonight being one of the first nights chilly enough to warrant it.

“Mimic?” Sam tossed out.

All three women groaned in response.

“Okay, okay,” Steve held his hands up. “Hear me out. How about Mockingbird?” The room went silent at the mention of her HYDRA project name. When no one spoke, he continued. “I’m just saying…it’s a part of your history. We can’t change that. Why not reclaim it?”

Charlotte shifted her position on the couch to sit up straighter, considering.

“Just…take it back. You aren’t HYDRA’s Project Mockingbird anymore…you’re Mockingbird. The survivor. Maybe one day, the Avenger. If you want.”

“I got my name from the Red Room, a cold war initiative to train female assassins.” Natasha’s voice was soft. “They called us Widows. I just choose not to think of it as a shackle from them. I remember all the women I was honored to know through that program, the ones who survived and went on to live the lives they deserved. Being Black Widow…I think it allows me to move on. Remember that my past is dark, and complicated, and yet…it got me here. So I can’t hate it as much as I want to.”

Natasha met Charlotte’s gaze, her eyes sympathetic. She was strong, relentless, powerful, deadly…but she loved this team, her family with everything in her. No one had to wonder if she’d endure it all again to end up with this team, on this couch. She’d allowed, invited Charlotte into their lives. She hoped one day she would love the team, love this life as much as Natasha did. She longed to have something that made her life feel like it wasn’t a string of disastrous circumstances, like it was all for something. All the suffering, the fear, the loss. All the lonely nights. All the nightmares. Like it was leading her to something, someone. Charlotte looked around the room at the earnest faces watching her, helping her reshape her identity.

“Mockingbird it is.”

_________________________________

The Avengers Compound buzzed with activity as the team prepared for their annual benchmark testing. The expansive training grounds echoed with laughter and camaraderie, a stark contrast to the intensity of their missions. Off-duty SHIELD agents gathered around the designated testing area, eager for a glimpse of the Avengers’ in action. One would think working at the compound alongside them would take some of the novelty away, but it was rare for any of the team to even get close to using their full abilities. Which made benchmark testing everyone’s favorite day.

The early morning sun cast a warm glow over the compound. The Avengers, clad in their training gear, assembled near a row of obstacles and equipment at the front of the crowd. It had become an annual tradition over the past four years, every year garnering more attention from the spectating agents. What had originally been a way for the team to find their limits in a safe, controlled environment had become, as most things did, a competition. After several close calls with complete exhaustion, injury, or the rare case of a “web-block” - this was determined to be a necessary trial. Even Earth’s Mightiest Heroes had a limit.

The setup had been arranged in what was ordinarily a shooting range, a wide open field behind the main building. The largest open space on the grounds was now occupied by things Charlotte didn’t fully comprehend the use for. A car, parked in the middle of the field? She figured someone would explain soon enough so she kept her questions to herself.

The challenges were broken down into categories, testing each person on their specialty or enhancement. The two Super Soldiers would compete in a more physical manner, with an endurance run, strength competition, and then hand to hand combat. Clint would face a series of archery-related challenges, with targets that ranged from fifty feet to 500 yards away, some that moved, and some with obstacles (SHIELD agents as “hostages”) in the way. Peter and Wanda both faced similar strength related competitions, seeing how much weight their respective powers could hold. Everything from an iron bench to the cab of a semi-truck to a Quinjet was lined up for them to lift. Natasha, of course, would have yet another trial all of her own. An obstacle course of sorts, beginning with hacking her way into the small arena. Tony saw it as his personal challenge to make it increasingly more difficult every year, competing against himself as he was also the one to design each tool on her combat belt. Once she was in the arena, she’d face two waves of a dozen agents, using her training pistol to take them out and make it to the other side. Once she crossed the arena, there would be an additional challenge. In years’ past, it had been unscrambling an encrypted message, de-escalating a hostage situation (usually the same volunteer as Clint’s), or hotwiring various armored vehicles.

Charlotte rolled her shoulders, jogging in place to loosen up. Since no one really knew what her abilities were, they’d agreed to let her participate in whichever tasks she chose. Everyone had been more than encouraging, some even making friendly wagers with her to see who would win what. The only two who seemed less than thrilled about it were Tony and Bruce, who’d exchanged a concerned glance when she announced she’d do it.

Now, she stood in the bullpen alongside Natasha and Clint for the first event of the day. Their suits were similar, all black neoprene with some high-tech enhancement to make the surface nearly bulletproof. Apparently there had been an earlier prototype that was completely bulletproof, but Natasha claimed it was far too stiff for her to do what she needed to do. So they settled for nearly.

“You ready for this?” Nat nudged her gently, tightening her wrist braces.

“I don’t think I’m ever really ready for the shit I get myself into,” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I just do it.”

“Fair enough.” She winked. “See you on the other side.”

The three participants were escorted to the starting line, each of them having their own separate course to run, all parallel to one another. Charlotte stepped into the box, high plexiglass walls separating them from each other. She felt a little like a rat in a maze. Thanks to their vantage point on the hill, the agents had a view right down into the action. There were screens projecting the parts of the course impossible to see, but nothing compared to the real thing. Taking one last deep breath, Charlotte stole a glance through the clear barrier to Natasha on her right. A reassuring nod from her friend and she was bracing herself for action.

“On your marks,” Maria Hill’s voice sounded through a megaphone. “Get set…GO!”

The starting pistol shot into the air and the gate in front of Charlotte dropped. She took off running blindly down a hallway, sprinting towards the door in front of her. It was a completely smooth surface aside from a small computer panel on the front. Heavily encrypted, probably behind several different layers of protection. Her stomach twisted. Hacking was never her strong suit. She slid her fingers all around the edges of the door, feeling for a groove or weak spot. Nothing. Heart beginning to race, Charlotte looked over to check the status of the others. To the far right, Clint had shot an arrow with some kind of live electric current directly into the panel, rendering it useless. He was now muscling it open, his face straining. Natasha, directly next to her, was punching away on the keypad.

Immediately, Charlotte snapped into action. She dropped to her knees, assuming the same crouched stance as Natasha. Feeling the gears whir in her mind, she tracked each rapid movement of Nat’s fingers and replicated them. A half second behind, Charlotte’s eyes were locked on every movement she made. A muffled beep then click sounded from the other side of the glass as Nat cracked the code. She gripped the round handle and threw her weight into it, opening the iron door. Sure enough, the same beep and click sounded clearly in front of Charlotte as she punched in the last number she’d seen. Not wanting to waste a moment, she turned the handle and yanked the door open.

This one led into a dark room, covered from above. Pausing, Charlotte listened to her surroundings. Rather than the patter of Natasha’s light footsteps, she heard an irregular beat of feet on the ground. It sounded like…she was tiptoeing around something. Reaching back, Charlotte ran her hands across the ground, gathering a small pile of loose dirt. With a deep breath, she blew it out of her palms into the air in front of her. Red beams illuminated the room in front of her, criss-crossing across her path. Piece of cake.

After a split second committing the web of lasers to memory, she sprung into action. Leap, tuck, roll. Belly-crawl. Stand slowly. Don’t breathe. Back handspring, back handspring, drop and roll. Her movements were instinctive, her body completely taking over. A fact she was thankful for considering her momentum was too strong to slow down or think about what she was doing.

Pulling herself to her feet, she reached the end of the hallway to a door that was, thankfully, not encrypted. She tugged it open only to hear a bullet whiz past her left ear. As she ducked, Charlotte heard a distant gasp from the spectators. She rolled to the left, gunfire peppering the wall only seconds behind where she was. An old filing cabinet stood two feet from her, one quick leap landed her behind it. Think. She closed her eyes and recalled the image of the room from the split second she saw it before the fire had opened. It was a mock office building, looking like a shootout had already occurred. Charlotte wondered if it was modeled after a real scenario they’d been in. She scanned the image in her mind as bullets peppered the back of the filing cabinet. Surely they aren’t real bullets…right? She didn’t give herself enough time to worry about it. Her assessment showed a dozen gunmen stalking around the room, guarding the door. Slowly, Charlotte turned, unlatching the bottom drawer of the cabinet and tugging it free of it’s hinges. When the integrity of the cabinet was just about to give in, she moved. Swinging the metal drawer directly at the head of the nearest gunman, it collided with the side of his face. When his neck snapped to the right, she kicked the opposite direction and knocked the assault rifle from his hands. Sliding after it, she ducked behind an old desk just as the others opened fire on her. One of her arms hadn’t quite made it behind the desk, being struck with a bullet. Hissing, Charlotte cradled her arm, checking for damage. It stung, but there was no more than a raw welt in its place. Rubber bullets.

Steeling herself, she stood and aimed. Three shots each, one to each kneecap and one to the exposed hand on the trigger. As always, her aim was flawless. They dropped instantly. She debated dropping the gun and running, but realized she didn’t know what the next room would hold, so she maintained her grip and sprinted ahead.

When she pulled the door open, her arm was yanked backwards by some invisible force, not allowing the guns through. Charlotte turned her head to investigate, brows furrowed, one foot already in the next room. What the - WHAM!

A fist collided with her newly healed nose, sending blood spilling into her mouth. Slowly, she turned to look at the agent, fists still raised. The bloodlust and anger in Charlotte’s eyes made the poor guy wish he hadn’t volunteered for this. Without looking back, she let go of the gun, letting it clatter to the floor in the previous room. In one smooth movement, Charlotte’s fist curled and swung straight from the doorway to the agent’s jaw. A gruesome crunch would have made her nauseous if she weren’t already so pissed.

The agent dropped to the floor with a thud, giving Charlotte a split second to reset her nose as the rest of the mock assailants advanced on her. She cracked her neck to one side and then the other, finally feeling warmed up. This time, it was another dozen agents. No one seemed to have weapons, but judging by their stature, these were the best hand to hand fighters on the force.

Unfortunately for them, they couldn’t change their mannerisms. One agent, standing near the front of the pack and advancing quickly, held his head at an odd tilt to the right side. A flash of an old training session tore through Charlotte’s mind. Agent Ellis, he can’t go left. She scanned the group, eyes raking over each agent in milliseconds. Agent Kolstad, always opens with a right hook. Agent Armstrong, hits hard but can’t dodge worth shit. One by one she recognized their tells, identified them, and recalled their weaknesses.

She cleared the room in a new course record.

Unbeknownst to Charlotte, she had a 30 second lead on Clint and was neck and neck with Natasha. The watching agents gaped as she ran to the next room, finding herself faced with a single female, standing in the doorway, not appearing to be armed. The woman spoke instantly, not moving.

“One, seven, three, three, nine, twelve, eighteen, two, six, seventeen, twenty-one, nine, six, fourteen, sixty-three.”

Cocking her head to the side, Charlotte opened her mouth to ask what the hell she meant with this string of numbers. Before the words fully formed on her lips, a sack was tugged down over her head and cinched at the neck. Panic threatened to take over and her heart raced.

Breathe. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. Panic gets you killed.

Chest heaving but breaths coming slower and slower, Charlotte stood in a defensive posture, unable to see or smell anything about the room. Feeling the cloth around her neck, she felt the familiar metal band of a nanotech lock, complete with fingerprint pad on the side. Something told her it wouldn’t be her thumbprint programmed in. Squeezing her eyes tight within the darkness of the hood, she willed herself to focus. The woman had stood right in the doorway, obstructing almost all of her view of the rest of the room. Conjuring the image of the woman up, Charlotte examined all the details she missed the first time. Instead of the agent’s severe slicked back bun, she looked behind her to a grid on the floor. A series of thin planks covered the floor in erratic patterns, ironically about the width of a balance beam. The floor everywhere else…was missing entirely. She’d have to cross the floor by memory, only she never actually got a chance to look at the floor.

She took a steadying breath and ran through the maze on the floor one more time mentally, finding a route in the grid she’d seen over the agent’s right shoulder. Crouching, Charlotte, gingerly felt the floor to reconcile the first stretch of plank with the image she had in her head. Once she was certain it was the same one, she stood and began to cross the room. Instantly, instinctively, her mind calculated distances and adjusted her leaps accordingly. Her feet were featherlight, almost silent, as she danced across the room. Her eyes stayed shut beneath the hood, clinging to the memorized image.

When she’d successfully crossed to the doorway on the other side of the room, nearly fifty yards across, she paused. Her body remained crouched in a defensive posture, ready for the next unseen obstacle. Sensing someone in her presence, Charlotte raised her fists.

“Friendly.” A familiar voice called - the woman from the other side of the room. Charlotte didn’t lower her fists, but didn’t fight the woman’s hand from approaching her. She felt delicate pressure on her neck, then a click as the lock around her neck opened. The woman was quick but gentle as she removed the hood, her face stoic but eyes slightly warmer than the beginning of the task.

“Recite the number.”

Charlotte blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness.

“The number from the beginning. Recite it.”

Sighing, Charlotte rubbed the throbbing spot on her arm from where the bullet had streaked across her flesh. “One, seven, three, three, nine, twelve, eighteen, two, six, seventeen, twenty-one, nine, six, fourteen, sixty-three.”

The woman smiled, stepping aside as the final door slid open. Thunderous applause spilled in as Charlotte stepped out of the soundproofed room and back into the open air. Natasha’s beaming face was waiting for her, Clint not far behind. His ragged breath told Charlotte he had just completed his run, while Nat seemed to have been done for a while.

“That’s my girl!” Natasha ran over and gripped her shoulders, pressing their foreheads together. “You did amazing. Kicked major ass.” Turning to the crowd, she grabbed Charlotte’s hand and raised it, the cheers only intensifying.

Her breathing slowing down, Charlotte scanned the crowd, recognizing a few agents she knew from training. Her gaze dropped to the bullpen area in front of the stands, floor level with them. All her friends - the rest of the team - stood and clapped for her. Steve’s eyes were crinkled with an almost father-like pride. Peter and Sam were the most hyped she’d ever seen them. Off to the side, clapping slowly, stood Bucky. A lopsided grin on his face. Charlotte ignored the blush she felt on her cheeks, ignored the face that his admiration meant more than anyone else’s. She held his gaze, shrugging. He did the same, still clapping for her.

It was only when Tony walked up and clapped a hand on her back that she tore her eyes away. “Well, kiddo, that course is the result of our ten best defensive tactical strategists and four best engineers, so needless to say - someone’s getting fired. Good job.”

“Thanks,” Charlotte grinned. “Although the bullets could have been softer.”

“Just don’t get hit next time.” Nat winked.

After the hours spun past, the sun was beginning to decline in the sky. The day had brought so much excitement that Charlotte’s cheeks hurt from smiling and her voice was beginning to get hoarse from cheering. After the chaos from their trials had subsided, the others took their turn. Peter, Wanda, and Sam all had their own versions of airborne obstacle courses. They went separately, each getting the whole sky as their arena. Charlotte caught herself clapping, jaw agape, more than once while she watched. She knew she herself was enhanced, but seeing the pure power emanating from Wanda’s fingertips, seeing Peter swing through the air like it was what he was born to do…it left her awestruck.

Following the airborne spectacle, Steve, Bucky, Clint, Nat and Charlotte had entered a wide sparring ring. Each of them competing to be the last one standing. With a little shit-talking, Natasha claimed Clint as her first partner, promptly landing him on his back. Simultaneously, Steve and Bucky fell into a mesmerizing hand-to-hand battle, the force of their blows thundering through the crowd. Clint had gracefully accepted defeat, grumbling about being too old as he rolled through the sides of the ring. Slinking around the pair of Super Soldiers battling in the middle, Charlotte eyed Natasha. They circled, prowling for a few seconds, before Black Widow had struck. She used Steve’s shoulder as a base to leap over both men and flip towards her opponent.

As always, Charlotte’s brain snapped into overdrive, cataloging each move, each tell from Natasha. The information filed into her brain next to every other miniscule observation she’d made from the second they met.

Rolling out of the way, Charlotte heard Nat’s soft landing on the ground, exactly where she’d been seconds before. They fought the same way, not just because Charlotte was adapting her fighting style as it unfolded. Both build for stealth over power, both not especially big or strong, but both of them knowing how to leverage their weaknesses into strengths. Where the Super Soldiers fought with pure strength and power, the women danced around, trying to catch the other one off guard, land a destabilizing blow when it was least expected.

Most of Charlotte’s fights went the same way: she played defense for the first half, observing, defending, tracking, learning. As soon as she felt like she’d gathered enough information, whether it took her mere seconds or whole minutes, she would flip the script. Usually, the change from her defensive tactics to her more predatory fighting style would catch her opponent off guard enough to earn her the high ground. Then, her actual fighting would seal the deal. As was the case with Natasha. Their dance around the duo in the middle went on, and then Charlotte saw her moment. Bucky had used the momentum from Steve recoiling back to avoid a vibranium fist to the face, sweeping his legs out from under him and letting him thud to the mat. The noise and force of Cap hitting the mat caused Natasha to hesitate, ever so slightly, so briefly. She had been up on one foot, about to roundhouse kick, when the movement of the mat shook her balance. The tiniest hop to regain her footing, but it was her downfall. Charlotte shifted, in that moment, from defense to attack mode. She caught Nat’s foot and twisted, throwing her body into the movement the same way she’d seen her opponent do dozens of times. Nat caught herself as she was thrown to the floor, rolling away from Charlotte. Unfortunately for her, she’d let Charlotte watch one too many sparring matches, because she anticipated that too. From the leg twist, she’d immediately sprung into a back handspring, feet landing on the ground mere inches from Nat’s wrists. All it took was Charlotte to drop to her knees, pinning Nat’s arms down with her shins. A buzzer sounded from outside the ring, signaling Natasha’s end in the round.

Charlotte heard her grumble, “Wonder where you learned that,” as she helped the redhead to her feet.

Bucky.

The only other one left standing. He stood, arms lazily raised in a defensive posture, watching her. Charlotte cracked her neck, striding up to him.

“You know, I really thought the next time you choked me would be in a different setting.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Those games might make Steve blush, but they won’t work on me.”

“We’ll see.” Charlotte cartwheeled toward him, hooking her legs on his shoulders and bringing him down. He knew it was coming and rolled into it, trying to land on top as they tumbled across the mat.

Their fight was by far the most intriguing of the day, every agent and Avenger in the stands locked on their every move. Their fight was somehow playful and lethal all at once. Their skills were even more perfectly matched than the two Super Soldiers or the two trained assassins had been. Even Steve’s brows knit together as he realized Bucky wasn’t pulling his punches. Knuckle prints littered the mat from where his left hand had narrowly missed Charlotte.

After nearly ten minutes of combat, it looked like Bucky had her beat. He had a fistful of Charlotte’s hair, holding her in front of him while she thrashed. Both of her wrists were gripped tightly in metal fingers, rendering her somewhat immobile. All he had to do was drop her to the ground and pin her and he’d win. Charlotte paused, momentarily relaxing her body. Her features melted from fierce determination to watery shame. She spoke softly as she looked him dead in the eyes.

“I guess they were right. I am a failed experiment after all.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open.

The second the pressure on her wrist slackened ever so slightly, Charlotte moved. Her brow furrowed, face twisted with focus. Her right shin pressed against Bucky’s chest, throwing her weight into him as her left foot planted behind his, sending him tumbling down. The thud of his back on the mat was the only sound in the air. Charlotte crouched atop his body, knees on his chest. Bucky stared up at her, eyes a swirling mix of pity, confusion, and frustration. Through her panting breaths, Charlotte grinned.

“See? Games work on you too. You’re just more of a bleeding heart than a horndog.” She climbed off and held a hand out to him, which he ignored.

“Cheater.”

“Brute.”

Their exchange was almost drowned out by the cheering of the crowd, going absolutely berzerk. It turned out that the agents were a lot more fond of Charlotte when she wasn’t competing against them. There was a lot less shame in losing to someone who’d also beat the Winter Soldier -- twice.

Once they’d been cleaned up, various scrapes and bruises tended to, they all settled in to watch the Hulk in his strength competition. He lifted every object laid out for him, ranging from a Ford Explorer to an old model Quinjet. None of them seemed to cause him any strain at all. There was a little unexpected excitement as he threw the vehicle across the lake, sending Peter and Wanda soaring to retrieve it and safely deposit it back on the ground.

Now, finally, the last challenge of the day awaited them. The endurance run. Charlotte stood between the two Super Solders, rolling her shoulders. Steve stretched, Bucky simply stood there, stealing agitated looks at Charlotte out the corner of his eye.

“Don’t you need to warm up or something?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No.”

“Okay…noted. Sore loser.”

Bucky scowled but didn’t respond to her. They were interrupted from further bickering by Agent Hill calling out a countdown. They were to run 25k (15.5 miles) through a trail in the woods - for time. The average time for agents to run it in was 2 hours and 15 or so minutes. Steve’s personal best? 53 minutes. Today he was trying to break 50. Bucky was always hot on his heels, though he had to labor a little more to accommodate for the weight of his left arm. Again, no one knew which events to put Charlotte in as no one knew the full extent of her abilities. She’d insisted on trying the run as well. She knew her endurance was above average, knew she could channel just about anyone just by watching them. Truth be told, she too was curious about how far her abilities stretched.

Again, Bruce and Tony had been the only two who balked at her taking on a third event of the day. She’d brushed them off, stating that the first two challenges barely made her break a sweat. Though the bruise forming on her face from the first challenge said otherwise, they’d reluctantly agreed. What no one heard was their quiet agreement to monitor her extra closely and call the task off at any sign of her in trouble.

The first few miles had been easy. Charlotte fell into step with the other two, staying within striking distance but letting them set the pace. Their strides were longer, but she focused on their exact path through the forest, each leap they took over errant roots, every perfectly placed step. She let them carve the route for her. Halfway through the race, sweat was dripping down her neck into the collar of her combat suit. She didn’t dare look away from their feet as the trio ran, but she assumed they were feeling the fatigue too. Super Soldier serum had made them enhanced, not invincible. They still got winded, still wore out. Just a lot slower than Charlotte, and a lot slower than the average person. Blood pounded in her ears as she copied Steve’s leap over a fallen tree. To her surprise, her knees buckled ever so slightly when she landed, causing her to stumble and lose ground. Bucky stole a glance over his shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” Charlotte breathed out, still reeling. Her body almost never surprised her. Well, with the exception of trying to kill the man in front of her at first sight.

They tore through the woods, the confusion of her misstep pushing Charlotte even harder to regain ground and catch back up. She felt Bucky’s eyes on her as she ran harder, ignoring a look that she couldn’t tell was concern or irritation.

“Charlotte,” He hissed, grabbing her arm and skidding to a stop.

“What?!” Charlotte’s voice was incredulous, chest heaving. “Let go!”

“Your nose is bleeding.” Bucky grit his teeth. “I think you should stop.”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, rolling her eyes. “If you’re afraid of getting beat twice, just say so.” Smirking through the blood running down her face, Charlotte took off running after Steve.

Bucky scowled, following her into the woods.

They were closing in on mile thirteen, on pace for Steve’s goal. Long strides caught Bucky up with Steve and Charlotte no problem. His focus, however, was no longer on the race. He let familiarity with the trails guide him, keeping half his attention on the woman running beside him. Blood had soaked the collar of her suit, the dark fabric gleaming with sweat and crimson. Her face showed only the barest traces of strain as she pushed on.

He heard his heartbeat, sounding like it was going double time. Wait, that’s two heartbeats…

Bucky focused his sharp hearing, trying to separate the sounds. He heard his heartbeat, quicker than usual, but within a safe range. Then he heard the other, Charlotte…Her heart was racing, dangerously high. It sounded like it was going to beat out of her chest.

“Charlotte,” He spoke tightly. “You need to stop, you’re hurting yourself.”

She threw a tense look his way, but didn’t waste her breath on a jab. Something is wrong.

Steve grew further and further down the path from them as Charlotte began to fade, literally. Her steps slowed, knees became wobbly. Her skin had dulled, looking pale and almost gray. Her eyes met his between a few hazy blinks and he saw a flash of something like fear in them. Stopping on a dime, Bucky was by her side in two strides. Charlotte’s eyes rolled back in her head and she began to crumple.

______________________________

The crowd roared as Steve crossed the finish line, right as the clock showed 48:52. A five minute record. He was breathing heavily, but not like someone who’d just ran a half marathon in less than an hour should be. He nodded thanks and high fived a few teammates before his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Where’s Buck? Charlotte?” He looked to Nat. “They weren’t that far behind me. They should have crossed by now.”

She frowned, turning to Tony and Bruce, both equally pale. “FRIDAY, send drones through the path. I want visual on the trail, final two miles.” Two drones whipped past their heads, soaring down the path Steve had just exited. The formerly elated crowd had died down, picking up on the concern.

Tony was intently scanning the screen in front of him when Bruce gripped his forearm, guilt all over his expression. “Tony.”

They looked up to see Bucky Barnes carrying Charlotte’s limp body out of the woods.