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rogueabs · 3 months ago

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Under the Gun - Abby Anderson x Reader

Are you living for love? When the road gets too tough, is your love strong enough?

-under the gun by The Sisters of Mercy

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SUMMARY: You’ve been running from your reality, you had to leave your home in Oregon, it couldn't get worse after all, you had lost it all. Arriving in Seattle you hear yelling and grunting from afar, when you see a muscular blonde woman being beaten and dragged you freeze, you wouldn't be able to rescue her. Stealthy you follow the people with a scar on their face, a feature that relates them to another to what it seemed like their camp, you hide waiting for the moment to take the blonde girl from the rope restraining her up in the air incapacitating her.

You and Abby’s story begins when she saw the end of hers.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut (further along you perverts!) angst, desciptions of weapons and violence.

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Chapter 1: What if it was you

Growing up in Oregon was a gift and a curse, the peace that came with it also brought loneliness. Growing up you only had your mother by your side, your father passed away before you were born trying to protect your family farm from the undead creatures that roamed earth alongside surviving humans. It was you and your mom, against the world as it was always proclaimed by the both of you. She was THE wonder woman in the flesh, raising you, teaching you how to survive and how to take care and keep the farm alive.

When you were nineteen she passed away peacefully when you went on a hunting trip on your own. You found a letter she left and you carried it with you in your leather jacket pocket.

She had been sick for a while, never telling you of the symptoms, you always saw her complain about pain and went on scavenges trying find medicine to take it away but you never thought you would find your mothers lifeless corpse, she didn’t want you to kill her like she had done to the love of her life.

“Your dad and I got engaged on the infamous space needle in Seattle, my wish was to take you there for your birthday but this illness took me way too soon. I never wanted you to see me fade. One day I hope you can see how beautiful the view is from there;”

So you packed your backpack angrily, never wanting to see that house again after burying your mother it would never be a home again.

With tears in your eyes you grabbed the old notebook your mom got you in a scavenge six years ago, you remember it like it was yesterday, it was her way of giving me privacy and I cherished every word I’ve ever written on it all these years.

"Dear diary, it's weird picking you up, it's been a while since i’ve talked with you. We are grown and alone, I've never been so afraid.

I remembered the old pick-up truck that belonged to the neighbours that once lived by our side, I have no memories of them, only that they were kind according to mom. I’ve been running like a mad woman trying to get gasoline for the last 2 days. It's a quick ride to Seattle. I just really need something good to happen to me."

When you finally got enough gasoline you swear you could believe in god for finally having your prayers answered. Walking back to the fields you knew like the back of your hand, you searched your neighbours house for a tool box, you needed a screwdriver badly.

“Finally!” you yelled so loudly and regretted it, hoping nothing heard you.

“Okay” you said to yourself “How do I hotwire this fucking car…” rubbing your hands on your head you tried to recall how your mom did it flawlessly for you, how if it went to go sideways she would be the one getting shocked, protecting you was her greatest accomplishment and you lived by loving and caring for someone that deeply.

Shoving the screwdriver in the ignition system and moving it around, you manifest it working since this car was older than you and your mother too probably, a couple minutes of turning it and jiggling it around you heard the motor start.

Beating your legs using them like a drum, you cried of happiness, you could finally escape, a fresh start.

The farthest you could drive too was still far from your destination, you spent one week on foot, you could barely remember what sleep was like when you heard a commotion, it was gunshots.

Instinctively you held your gun in the palm of your hand, you had to be sure that if needed it was on its holster ready to protect yourself no matter what it took. Scoping far from the building you understood it was one person who did the job, it made you curious of what may have happened, and whatever it was, you didn’t want to get on their bad side.

Getting closer to the building, being careful not to draw attention to yourself you saw a muscular blonde woman starting to leave the building, sliding on the dirt ramp when out of nowhere someone with an enormous sledgehammer got on top of her. You were panicking deciding if you should or not get closer, to rescue her but you saw her handle herself biting the woman's ear but in a blink of an eye, two men came closer and someone knocked the blonde woman out.

Whoever they were, they started dragging the unconscious girl and you couldn't bear the sight of it. This wasn’t part of the plan but you needed to help her, something inside of you told you to do it, it could have been you.

You were light on your feet, stealth was your best friend and the people in the long jackets didn’t hear or see you, but from afar you noticed it all. Wherever they were bringing her too was bad, it made you sick, were they cannibals? Was it a cult? The only thing that made them related to another was the scars they had on all their faces.

They tied with rough ropes the ankles and wrists of the woman they called “wolf”, it was soothing due to her frame, they dragged her to a place where people were gutted and hung by their neck, you had to save her.

The people with scars tied the rope on her neck and pulled her up, you got ready to aim and shoot the woman that was pointing a knife to her abdomen when suddenly a young woman was brought to the camp violently.

The woman that was prepared to kill the blonde woman flipped instantly at the tumult created by two strong men grabbing the girl.

From what you could gather the girl was named Yara, and the sight was too violent, you had never experienced such cruel humans in your life. One of the men that was holding her down obeyed the orders of the woman who told them to “clip her wings”, they ended up smashing her arm with a hammer.

It was now or never and you decided to make your moves to help the woman down, arrows were shot out of nowhere, taking one of the men out and Yara took out the other with the same hammer that was being used violently on her. Quickly you started making your way to get behind the blonde woman to get her down. She was able to catch the tall woman who threatened her before who now was confused at the attack, the blonde trapped her with her strong legs, starting to choke her out but you showed up and stabbed her with a screwdriver in the neck, letting her choke on her blood falling to her death.

Taking the blonde woman out of her restraints you gave her a hand helping her down.

A young boy came in desperately running towards the Yara girl who now had her arm broken and all you could feel was anger at what she had been put through, hearing them talk you were able to pick up that the boy's name was Lev and you heard her say that “Demons are coming.” Whatever that meant, it sounded like it was going to be hell on earth.

Gazing back at the blonde woman, she rubbed her neck trying to regain her breath and thoughts into place, getting her stability back she grabbed the hammer the girl had thrown across.

“Watch your backs,” the woman said.

You grabbed the gun out of your holster getting yourself ready in position, you were all gonna leave this place alive, even if it meant dying for the safety of these strangers.

It was a bloodbath fighting against all the clickers and runners that came across your escape out of the woods. You and the woman realised the kids were with us, helping us leave even if they were related to the people with scars in their faces and that made you filled with hope in escaping to safety.

After running and crouching underneath a fence, you believed you had left the thrill of the rush to a temporary safe haven in this mess and introduced yourself to the woman.

“I know this isn't good timing but I’m (Y/N)” giving your hand for the woman to shake.

Shaking your hand the woman said “I’m Abby.”

In the blink of an eye the woman you had seen before, the one with the sledgehammer that knocked the woman down prior to this was attacking the kids, Abby got up instantly to fight without any weapons. You fumbled with your hands trying to search for more ammo to shoot her down but Abby got around just fine with her bare fists, the last thing you recall is hearing her question the tall woman if she was wearing her backpack and before you could recollect your thoughts on what you were witnessing, Abby had smashed the skull of the scared woman with the sledgehammer.

You made your way down trying to open the rusted auto-shop door and heard Abby talk to Lev and Yara but you couldn't hear it over the door you were trying to pry open.

“Through here c’mon” You said to the people you were stuck with for the moment.

When everyone got inside you let go of the door, you were searching your backpack for your flashlight when you felt someone’s presence getting closer.

“(Y/N)? Is that right? Abby asked.

“It is.” you confirmed looking at her eyes, even if you never crossed her path again after this, you wanted to remember the strange womans features.

“Thanks for you know, helping me down. Do you need anything, anything at all?” She asked with her blue eyes never breaking your gaze.

“Don’t thank me Abby, I’m sure you would’ve done the same.” You replied wiping your sweat away from your forehead, “Right now I just need us to get out of this shit hole.”

Abby respectfully nodded and left you to search while moving towards the struggling kids who were trying to pry open a door. You desperately needed ammo so you wouldn't rely on your screwdriver as your weapon of choice but this was odd, you wouldn't admit it to yourself or out loud that the only thing stealing your attention from a completely focused supply search like you had done millions of times was Abby's piercing blue eyes that were stuck in your mind, what had you gotten yourself into.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #tlou #tlou2 #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #lesbian #wlw #sapphic

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islandofsages · 11 months ago

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Pomefiore boys with a friend (male reader), how is a hopeless romantic, where they help him (the reader) to win over his crush or comfort him when he is rejected.

characters: the pomefiore boys x male reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, comfort, imagines format

warnings: mentions of beating people up LMAO, some physical contact in epel's

author's notes: ngl i was kinda debating writing this bc i was like hmmmm crush but yknow what? it's not romance with the main cast so i'll let it slide plus im excited to get a request after so long sorry if this isnt as good! pretty rusty from not writing imagines in so long ahaha

Vil Schoenheit

You went to the right person - who else has better rizz charm than Vil Schoenheit himself?

Of course, his first word of advice would be to just be yourself but just in case “yourself” isn’t enough, Vil has extended two generous offers to you: he will personally tutor you on how to steal your crush’s heart and if somehow they still reject you, he’ll have a uh… nice little talk with them. Totally. He has a reputation to hold up you know

Jokes aside, he truly believes you can catch your crush’s attention. He may be a little tough on you at times but he’s only trying to push you in the right direction

“Remember. If they do not give you the time of day, then they are not worth any of your precious time.”

If you get rejected, he’ll admit he feels a bit guilty - mostly disappointed in the crush (unless they have a good reason to reject), but still

Of course you insist that he doesn’t have to be sorry but he takes it upon himself to make up to you somehow

Whatever you need to recover from the rejection, he’ll try his best to fulfill your wishes

He’ll make time in his busy schedule to go out and treat you to something to cheer you up

In all the love in the world, maybe your crush isn’t yours to keep. But at least Vil’s is.

Epel Felmier

He may not have much experience with confessions or being a wingman but he’ll try his best for you!

He might search up how to impress a crush online and have you genuinely try the ideas he found and let’s just say that some of them are… interesting alright

You know he means well so you just follow along. At least the embarrassing times make for good memories to look back on and laugh over

“Maybe this’ll work…? How are we gonna find these though…”

He also offers to beat your crush up if they reject you but you quickly shut him down.

He’s there somewhere, hiding in a nearby bush (or whatever is nearby), when you confess to your crush, face scrunches up as if watching an intense Spelldrive match

If you get rejected, he’ll be a shoulder to cry on. Literally - he’ll sit beside you and offer to let you rest your head on his shoulder if you want

He may end up not saying much but he can listen to you for as long as you need him to

The tears of rejection may be salty, but the memories you made with your friend could sweeten any taste.

Rook Hunt

He’s delighted that you trust him enough to go to him for support

You think that you’d like to be more charming like him, what with his way of speaking and how he carries himself

Tears prick the corner of his eyes already; you have to ask him if he’s alright

“To think you saw me in such a light… it would stir any soul.”

He would even offer to teach you the delicate art of poetry if you so desire to win your crush’s heart through prose

If you get rejected, he’ll empathize with you, wearing a frown that you almost feel worse about than your actual rejection

He’ll let you say whatever you need to say or let out whatever’s weighing on you

When you’re done, he tells you that even such heartbreaking events could bloom into a beautiful flower one day - that you need not be concerned and see it as a learning experience

You laugh; how could you forget? There are many types of people out there. Just like how there could only be one copy of your crush, there could only be one of Rook.

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sunnys-out · 1 year ago

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Dance the Night | Lucy Bronze

A/N: Based on this request. Please enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I am actually going to have a FaceTime date with my own Northern English, defender this Sunday so wish me luck :)

Also, I imagine that these are the types of dance covers that you would post on Tik Tok btw.

Word count: 2823

Warnings: Suggestive themes/statements

Baby, you can find me under the lights

Diamonds under my eyes

Turn the rhythm up, don't you wanna just

Come along for the ride?

Oh, my outfit is so tight

You can see my heartbeat tonight

I can take the heat, baby, best believe

That's the moment I shine

Lucy and I had the shared experience of playing in an American university. The only difference was that UC Berkeley was my home for my time there.

One of the things that I did during my four years at Cal that made them special and even was something that people loved learning about me was that I was also a part of a dance group whilst playing football. When I was in America, I found that dance was a good way to maintain my cardio and it was a fun way to keep my mind off of football for a bit. I used to do ballet as a kid and did some hip-hop dancing as I grew older so it was not something too out of the ordinary.

Even though football was my true calling, that did not stop me from dancing in the locker rooms before games, and posting little dance covers on Tik Tok during camps at the behest of Mary Earps. The only reason that the fans got wind of the fact that I’m that teammate constantly dancing was because of Lucy, who was filming one time before we played in a friendly against Germany and posting it on Instagram. She says that I didn’t pull her immediately that day but I know Lucy and I saw the way she watched me behind the phone as I danced to Work Out by J. Cole.

During the Euros, it became a thing, I guess, for the main Lionesses Instagram to post my pregame dances in the locker room. One of those I ended up teaching Miss Lucy Bronze how to slow dance which turned into a faster dance much to Lucy’s dismay. Lucy twirling me into a hold was the focal point of the video and I get why this one became a fan favorite and material for loads of couple edits of us.

The caption of said post, “@bbcstrictly @y/n is waiting for her call-up! 👀”

Of course I commented, “@y/n: @bbcstrictly ok but actually I would be down, I love love love the show 💃🙏”

Post win at the Euros, I was getting a call from the producers of Strictly Come Dancing to perform a one-time, special dance. They said that it was some kind of honoring fit for a new European champion.

I worked it out with my management that it would definitely be something that I could do after the World Cup since that was my next objective after a successful Euros run.

During the off time in the World Cup, I found myself talking to the producers as they had ideas of the performance and the choreography that would go with it. So, sometimes I would have to deny a walk with Lucy to figure out some logistics. I was met with a small but still visible pout from Lucy as she only nodded and would call up Jordan to take my place.

My attention was monopolized once we finalized what song and choreography we were aiming for and of course my new dance partner. I didn’t really know the guy but apparently he was on a reality show and all the girls were after him. The only taste of reality shows that I had was occasionally watching Love Island over Rachel and Millie’s shoulders on bus rides to games. I did not understand at all what went on but the drama was entertaining from what I saw.

______________________________________________________________

“So, you’re not going to tell me the name of the song you will be dancing to?” Lucy said as she remained sitting on the hotel bed as she watched me change into something nicer than the training set I had been in all day. Eyes trained on me the whole time.

“Nope, it’s a surprise, baby. Sworn to secrecy anyways” I said as I got ready for our walk.

Lucy frowned as she started scratching her neck “well at least show me who you are going to be dancing with, like what if it’s a weirdo you know?”

I comply and give her my phone after I look up the name of the guy they had paired me up with.

“Not too bad looking right?” I tease, as I put on some dunks and ask for my phone back.

Lucy raised an eyebrow and laughed a little, “I know I can’t dance like you but ya think it’s too late to ask if I could be your dance partner?”

Now it was my turn to laugh, “don’t be jealous baby, now let’s get going there is a cafe with a chocolate pastry I wanted to try!”

I pulled her up ignoring the small pout and muttering “ ‘m not jealous” as I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and dragged her out of the door.

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After our loss at the World Cup final and a lot of tearful goodbyes to the other girls, Lucy and I made our way back to Barcelona and just took some time to decompress.

One of Lucy’s favorite things to wake up to was seeing me in the kitchen making myself breakfast, dancing in silence with my airpods in my ears without a care in the world.

This particular Saturday morning, however, she was confused because instead of a loose, messy bun, my hair was brushed and down.

Instead of one of my old, English training shirts, I was in a lilac crop top and denim shorts that showed off my legs and not my old PSG shorts.

As she got closer, the smell of her favorite perfume on me hit her nose, suddenly Lucy stood there wondering what day it was and did she fuck up and forgot some anniversary.

As I turned to go to our fridge to pull out the water pitcher, I caught sight of Lucy just standing by the kitchen island.

“Baby, you know it’s rude to stare” I tease and followed up with a quick kiss on her cheek “Good Morning, sleepy head”

Lucy remained silent for a beat before going, “Why are you all dressed up on a Saturday morning?...Did I forget something?”

She rubbed her eyes, lifting her clear glasses as she did so.

“Nope, our anniversary is still Bastille day, uh my birthday hasn’t changed and yours is still in October” I listed them off on my fingers and then continued as if I didn’t leave Lucy even more confused as I began cleaning the counter.

A pair of arms wrapped around me stopping me in my tracks as Lucy burrowed her head into my neck taking in the perfume I wore.

“Then will Miss L/N tell me where she is going dressed like this, hm?” She mumbled as she placed a chaste kiss on my neck.

“Going to get lunch with…ugh what was his name? The one I'm going to be dancing with for Strictly Dancing, baby” I say, nonchalantly, a smirk creeping at my mouth as I felt Lucy’s arms tighten around me and her mouth getting close to my ear.

Lucy did not show jealousy often but I loved it when she did. I loved teasing her but she would always dismiss it saying that she knew that I was hers so why should she worry. But the tone of her voice gave her away.

“Oh really?” She says softly in my ear before turning me around my back to the countertop now. My face remained unfazed as I nodded, even though I was loving everything about the interaction.

“Yes?” I nod over to the other counter across from me. “I made you some breakfast so ya don’t miss me too much, even cut you some fruit”.

The softness and nonchalant nature of my voice made her jaw tightened a bit.

“Want me to go with you?” she said not letting me go, still caging me in against the counter.

I thought for a moment and then shook my head “no” and simply replied.

“I’m a big girl. Don’t you worry, Lucia” My eyebrows raised slightly as Lucy pulled back.

Lucy moves her arms back to her side, “Fine, but I’m driving you”

She did end up driving me to the little brunch place and ignored my “protests” of “you don’t have to walk me to the restaurant, Luce” as she held me tightly at the waist, her hand possessively on the bare skin on my waist.

I let myself out of Lucy’s hold as I introduced myself to my dance partner. He truly was the object of every other girls dream…just not mine. He wasn’t unattractive at all. Even though Lucy came literally holding me at the waist, it didn’t stop my dance partner from subtly looking me up at down.

“Well, it’s great to meet a Euro Champion and a world cup finalist, (y/n)” he said avoiding Lucy’s glare through her sunglasses.

I stop him and laughed, “well technically two, this is Lucy Bronze, my partner, she was just dropping me off”

Lucy only extends her hand out to the guy and firmly shakes his hand and mutters out “pleasure”.

The guy only nods “well, I’ll make sure she gets home safely”.

I hide the smile on my face when I saw Lucy, still holding his hand, say bluntly.

“Oh? No, I’ll be picking her up, don’t you worry” the guy’s hand falling limp as she let’s go.

I give Lucy a hug and planned to just give her a quick kiss on the cheek but she pulled me closer to her by the waist and gave me a slow kiss on the lips,

Before I pull away, she whispered quietly in my ear, “just wanted to make sure he knows who you're coming home to”

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The little brunch outing was interesting to say the least. The boy was bold given Lucy did stare him down when she picked me up like she promised. Especially as we left the restaurant but I, kindly, avoided his “subtle” advances of him trying to lead me to Lucy’s car.

What had been discussed about the dance and from what I could see is that I would be the main focal point and he would be, for lack of a better term, an accessory. I, of course, would not be telling Lucy that immediately, I was very much enjoying the attention she was giving me.

It being essentially a solo dance made it easier since I have training and I wouldn't have to rely on someone else to also learn the choreography…which allowed for me to work on a little surprise for Lucy with my extra free time.

______________________________________________________________

“Baby, can you help me with something?” I yelled down the hall of our shared apartment.

Lucy came in shortly with a raised eyebrow “ yeah what’s up?”

“Remember how you said that you wanted to be my dance partner instead of what’s his face?” I say as I move some of our furniture out of the way to make space in the middle all while trying to not hit Narla in the process.

Lucy looked at me confused and with a laugh said, “I never said that…what’d you need though?”

I grab her hands and pull her to the middle of our living room “Well can you be my dance partner? You know with all the training and all I can’t really practice the choreo with him…so you want to help me?”

Lucy smiled and nodded as she pulled me closer to her and gave me a twirl “Ok, miss l/n, lead on”

______________________________________________________________

My, sweet, Lucia can be a wonderful dancer when she puts time into in. She followed my direction even though the “quick movements of the dance” were something she would have to get used to but eventually after a couple of weeks. She was able to fluidly hold me and move with me.

Narla definitely got a kick out of her two moms doing something akin to the salsa in the living room. I would say Lucy, even with the groans and complaints, secretly, enjoyed it as well.

The day of filming came quickly and out of nowhere and we were filming it in the streets of Barcelona; there was just no way we would be able to fly to England and back, especially with pre-season and games starting.

I just want to give a special thank you to M&S for giving Lucy that outfit she wore during that one photoshoot we had with England, honestly, doing the Lord’s work. I had subtly asked that I would love to see her wear it again and again subtly suggested she wear it to the Strictly Dancing shoot and I just love it when she listens to me.

Luce was behind the cameras and chatted with the producers as they waited for me to come out of the dressing room ready to film.

As I was led out with my hand loosely in my dance partner’s I reveled the intensity of Lucy’s stare.

Why?

Well I had a silver, fringe dress with an open back and the dress came up to my mid thigh and matching high heels and, well the fact, my dance partner was trying ever so slightly to get closer to me as we were speaking with the director.

As we got into position, center “stage” in the streets of Barcelona, I look over to Lucy and give a quick wink to her.

“Dance the Night by Dua Lipa” started to play on the set. I began moving quickly and sensually and interacting very little with my partner. The fringe of the dress definitely did not leave much to the imagination. There were parts where his hand would find my waist but those lasted only a few seconds.

Lucy watched, not letting me escape her sight and hid her frown as she noted the times my dance partner would slow the movements of his hands once they reached my waist or when he looked me over as I danced a little ahead of him.

We did not anticipate it being a one take but it was something that I wanted as it was more real in a way. As the music faded and the host came onto the stage to interview me, I caught Lucy in the corner of my eye, and she was smiling so big and visibly more relaxed.

“(y/n), so happy you could be here and we are just so happy to celebrate you and your achievements. How does it feel?” I hold the microphone, still catching my breath

“I loved this to be honest, love the show, and dancing is just something that I enjoy other than football. Uh, it’s definitely been some time since I’ve performed at this scale but it was absolutely a treat, thank you all for inviting me” I said gesturing to the crew members.

“Well, again we are happy to be a part of this and we know that another Euro Champions is in our midst, and I know that you had a little something prepared for the both of you?” The cameras now focused on a very confused Lucy.

I laugh and continue, “Yes, Miss Bronze, she thinks she has been helping me practice for this sole performance but we were actually going to dance together as well, come on babe” I gesture for her to come onto the stage.

The interviewer walks off announcing, “and now for a special dance by the Euro Champions and World Cup Finalists choreographed by Miss (y/n) (l/n)”.

Lucy finally reached me and whispered, “You little sneak,you planned this didn’t you?”

I only wink and immediately pushed Lucy into position like we have been doing at home in our living room.

“Maybe~” The music restarted and Lucy with the biggest smile on her face did everything perfectly. There were some slips in the movement but they were replaced with laughter as Lucy held onto me tightly as the music faded.

She hugged me tightly whispering, “Im so proud of you” her hands finding their place at my hips.

I gave her a quick kiss on the lips as we both ignored the claps from the crew members.

“So…would it be wrong to ask if you can keep the dress?” I smack her slightly at the question.

I give her a knowing smile, “Dress is mine to keep, but I don’t want to keep it on for too long, Miss Lucia Bronze”

I have never seen Lucy excuse herself, thank all the crew members and wish everyone a wonderful weekend so quickly before carrying me off the set in the midst of a fit of laughter.

Let’s just say that these scenes from the recording quickly overtook the locker room dance in edits and well it was all worth the teasing from our teammates when it finally aired.

#lucy bronze #engwnt x reader #lionesses #barca femeni #engwnt #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #woso x reader

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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months ago

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hi mira i’m going to rq for jjk (gojo specifically) :) kinda inspired by a fic idea of mine so if i see you post it maybe it’ll give me inspo to actually write too LOL — this is also a little long sorry, you can shorten as you wish 😓 maybe it’ll get the brain juices going idk

Y/N was really close to geto (i was thinking siblings but do whatever) and when he turned curse user and left, it made Y/N rethink why she was a sorcerer herself. she believed in geto’s ideals, but seeing his mindset 180 made her question if the same thing would happen to her since she was always weaker-minded than him. so she quit dropped out of the school and gojo never saw her since

skipping to the present, Y/N became a sorcerer again after having a conversation with geto some time before he died. with yuji being sukuna’s vessel, she goes to the school herself and sees gojo (their last convo was actually an argument leaving everything [him] behind). gojo’s just really stubborn, but he’s there when Y/N really needs him. from there they only keep encountering each other until they make up, their feelings are all out on the table, etc. etc.

── CHIAROSCURO

Synopsis: You don’t really know who you are without Suguru Geto. Satoru Gojo doesn’t know who he is without either of you.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo x Reader, Geto & Reader have something less than romantic but more than platonic going on

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: angst, mentions of death, flawed y/n character, major time skips, most plot events happen off screen, characters are probably ooc tbh i haven’t written for jjk in months

A/N: finally finished the first of the requests I’ve received so far!! it ended up being way more geto-centric than i had planned for it to be though i’m so sorry angel 😭 and it was also getting way too long so i decided to end it by just hinting the development of the rest of the story you mentioned LMAO i hope that’s okay 😫

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

Most people grew up with one shadow, but according to your mother, you had lived your entire life with two. The first was the same as the one everyone had, that darkening of the ground in the shape of your figure. The second was the boy who lived next door — or, at least, that was what she told you.

His name was Suguru Geto, and despite his dark features and darker clothing, he had a perpetually sunny demeanor, always quick to offer you a gentle smile whenever you glanced his way. He was polite even when it wasn’t required of him, and though your mother teased you for it, you knew she was secretly grateful for his presence in your life.

The greatest thing Suguru had ever done for you, though, was not teach you manners. It was that he gave you someone to follow. Perhaps it was true that he was your shadow, but it was his in which you cowered when you were frightened, when the brightness of the world was too harsh for your eyes, which, when it came to cruelties and horrors, were as sensitive and new as a child’s.

Suguru was always happy to take on that role. He would stand in front of you, his shoulder blades pinching together as he puffed out his chest and rebuked whichever neighborhood child had dared to tease you. They all ran from him when he was like that, when his brow grew heavy over his eyes and the corners of his mouth twisted into a scowl.

Not you, though. You stayed behind his back, blinking owlishly at the way the others scurried, laughing along when Suguru likened them to mice with a click of his tongue.

Suguru didn’t like those who hurt the ones weaker than them, so you didn’t, either. Suguru thought that the role of the strong was to protect the frail, so you did, too. Whatever Suguru believed, you did as well, because what else was there for you? It was easier for you to hold onto his hand and press against his back, to allow him to tell you where to place your feet, so that there was never even a chance of you falling.

That was why it wasn’t a surprise that, upon Suguru being scouted as a sorcerer, you were extended the same invitation. It was a natural consequence — where he went, you followed, and so when he packed his things and went to Tokyo, it was both of your bags that he was carrying, while you peered around the train station and wondered what kind of place you were going to end up in.

Your new classmate was the one that picked the two of you up. He was tall — taller than even Suguru, though the majority of his body consisted of his legs — and had an unearthly appearance, with pale hair carefully mussed into a seemingly thoughtless style and black glasses which slid down the bridge of his nose to reveal eyes like diamonds.

He was the most brilliant thing you had ever seen. Lowering your eyes, you stepped back into Suguru’s shadow, earning you a scoff from your classmate and a worried exhale from your friend.

“Blech,” he said. “You’re supposed to be my classmate, really? How’re you going to keep up, huh? I’m the strongest sorcerer in the world, you know.”

“I think we’ll manage just fine,” Suguru said pleasantly, though there was an edge to his voice, his teeth like knives when he smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Satoru Gojo,” your classmate said, shaking Suguru’s hand firmly. “Looking forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” Suguru said. “And this is Y/N L/N.”

“Hi,” you said, swallowing even as you said it, pursing your lips and glancing around, wishing for some kind of escape. Gojo hummed and then poked you on the forehead.

“Aw,” he said when you did not visibly react beyond furrowing your brow. “I thought you might fall over or something.”

“I see,” you said. “Um. Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go before our teacher gives us all detention for playing hooky.”

Unlike Suguru, Gojo didn’t allow you to follow him around. He made fun of you when you were scared and poked you on the forehead if you cringed away from his taunts. The latter occurred so frequently that you were surprised there was not a permanent indent in your skin.

“One day I’ll get you, pretty Y/N,” he’d always promise you. “Seriously! I mean, you barely have a backbone in the first place, so it’s really a wonder you’re standing at all.”

At first, Suguru used to demand he stop, but as the months went by, his protests grew weaker and weaker. You supposed that it must’ve been nice for him, to stand beside someone for once instead of constantly throwing himself in front of them. You could not blame him, but you found that you missed him more with every passing day.

But what was there to be done about it? After all, you were nothing compared to the two special grade sorcerers. You did what you could and found it was, for the most part, sufficient, but sufficient would never let you exist beside either of them in any way that mattered. So you fell behind, and this time, it was not a conscious choice but an unavoidable circumstance. This time, when you hung back, Suguru continued forward without you.

Empty-minded and weak-hearted. That was what your teacher called you. He sent you on the simplest missions he could, and still you struggled. Sometimes, this meant you would sit alone in the classroom until it was long past dusk, listening to your teacher ramble and shout.

“You are not weak!” he would say, his hands clenched into fists by his side. “By all rights, your technique is perfectly serviceable. You are not weak, Y/N L/N!”

“Yes, sir,” you would respond meekly.

“At least, you should not be,” he’d say. “Yet somehow, inexplicably, you are. Even a Grade 2 curse nearly got the better of you. Your classmates are exorcising special grades on their own! Aren’t you disgusted with yourself?”

Suguru, and sometimes Gojo, would wait outside of the door for you, lingering until they heard the shuffle of your feet, the soft sniffles which announced your arrival. Then Suguru would wrap a casual arm around your shoulders and tell you that it was fine if you were weak, just as long as he was around to protect you, and Gojo would do that infuriating thing where he’d poke you in the forehead and pretend like it was a miracle you hadn’t toppled over yet.

Otherwise, you did not see your classmates. Shoko Ieri was far too busy learning to do things you could never hope to accomplish in your lifetime, and Suguru and Gojo were called on to complete assignments with such unhealthy regularity that their education actually suffered for it.

You never knew what they did on their missions. You never cared to ask, either. The details would only make you queasy, and in this new world where you were not permitted to shudder and seek out the safety that Suguru so willingly provided you with, you tried to avoid things like that. Harsh things, brilliant things, cruel things — all of them you ran from at an equal pace. Without Suguru there to defend you, you turned into one of those children he had so-despised in your youth. Always running. Always hiding. Always shying away from anything resembling a challenge.

It was after one such mission that Suguru returned differently. You knew he had changed because he crawled into your bed that night instead of his own, drew the blanket up around his shoulders and pressed his weeping eyes against your collarbones.

“It’s no good,” he said after the third time you had asked him what was the matter, your hands nervously skimming over his shoulders, smoothing over his rough hair. “Everything’s been ruined, Y/N. Or maybe it was always like this. Maybe you’re the only one who’s ever understood the world to begin with.”

The next morning, when his feet touched the ground and he slid out of your bed, you were hit with the strangest feeling that you would never see him again. Not in the way you were used to seeing him, anyways. Sitting up in your bed, leaning against your pillows, you watched as he left, though when he went to close the door behind him, you reached out your hand.

“Wait,” you said. He paused, raising his eyebrows.

“Is everything okay?” he said, his knuckles growing white from gripping the handle.

“I want to look at you,” you said. You knew without knowing that the instant the door shut between the two of you, you would lose him forever. Your best friend. Your shadow. You wished that there was a way you could reach out and save him, but the thought of you saving someone was outlandish. Impossible. Laughable.

“Yeah?” he said. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and it did not reach his irises, but nevertheless, he somehow managed to muster up a smile. It was not gentle as much as it was exhausted, but still, he smiled as best he could at you. “Okay.”

You hugged one of the pillows to your chest. “I miss you a lot.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” he said.

“Not yet,” you said. “I think you will someday, though. You’ll go somewhere far away, and I won’t be able to follow you there. You won’t even want me to.”

“What kind of place is that?” he said. “I’ll always want you to follow me around, Y/N. As long as I’m there, not a corner on this planet could be a place I don’t want you to follow me to.”

The door creaked shut. You stared at the blank expanse and thought to yourself that he had always been very good at lying.

From that day forward, there were two opposite phenomena which occurred simultaneously. On the one hand, that blinding radiance of Gojo’s was magnified by the minute, and on the other, Suguru withdrew further and further into a grey sort of monotony that, try as you might, you could not pull him from.

“Gojo,” you said one day, tugging on his sleeve and flinching when he turned to look at you. As per usual, he pressed his finger into your forehead.

“Yikes,” he said. “Seems like you’re still lacking in the spinal department, dear Y/N. But just so you know, I’ve cheated off of your math homework enough times that you really shouldn’t be scared of me.”

“Please help Suguru,” you said.

“Eh?” Gojo said. “What do you mean? Help him with what, his math homework? I’ll just give him yours to copy as well, so why don’t you cut the middle man and show it to him yourself?”

“No, not with — just, he’s going away, and I don’t want him to, but he doesn’t — you’re the only one,” you stammered.

It was even more difficult to speak with Gojo now than it had been when you had first come to school. That was because it was only recently that you were realizing that that way he made you feel, that shyness, that apprehension, was not because of his gleaming, sharp countenance, but rather something else, something soft in your heart that thudded to life whenever he smirked at you.

“You want me to take his mission for him?” Gojo said, his nose wrinkling. “What, so the two of you can go on a date or something? Forget about it.”

“What?” you said. “No, what — a date — that’s not what I meant!”

It was too late. Gojo was gone, and with him, your last chance at helping Suguru vanished, too. In fact, Gojo avoided you until you went home from the summer break, making a face whenever you glanced his way, and by the time you came back to start the next year, it was too late for anyone to do much of anything.

“Y/N L/N,” Masamichi Yaga said, entering the library where you were writing a paper for your literature class. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, his cheeks a dark, flushed color, his teeth gritted together so hard that a muscle in his jaw twitched periodically. “Do you have a moment? It’s urgent.”

“I was just working on the essay that we were assigned, but it can wait,” you said agreeably, all too eager to give yourself a break from the work. Pushing aside your paper and pen, you stood up, massaging your wrist. “What is it, sir?”

“It’s, er…” His shoulders slumped. “I’m really sorry, Miss L/N.”

You tried to run through the list of things that he could be sorry for, but only one thing came to mind. You froze, your eyes widening. He had been on a mission, hadn’t he?

“Suguru,” you breathed. “Is it — it’s not about Suguru, is it?”

“In a sense, it is,” Yaga said.

“Is he alright?” you said. “He has to be alright.”

“We believe his condition is fine, considering what he’s done,” Yaga said.

“‘What he’s done?’ Why are you being so vague? What’s going on, sir? Please say it plainly,” you said.

“It’s your parents, Miss L/N,” he said, spitting it out all at once like the phrase itself was poisoned. “They’re dead.”

Your stomach dropped. You had imagined so many things. In your nightmares, you saw your classmates dying, your teachers, even yourself. But never your parents. Your parents, who were so far removed from this awful world. Your parents, who only a month ago had sent you back to school with a pair of new shoes they had saved up to buy. You parents, who had never harmed anyone in their lives. What had they done that was so terrible it warranted such a sudden death? What were they being punished for?

“How — how did it happen?” you said. “Was it a curse?”

“Miss L/N…” Yaga said, his entire self deflating. “I’m really sorry.”

“What? Stop apologizing,” you said, tears gathering in your eyes. “Just tell me. Stop saying sorry and tell me!”

“It was most likely Suguru Geto,” he said, handing you a piece of paper. Your vision swam, and you could barely make out the words. All residents of the village were killed. Jujutsu High investigated. Based on residuals…all 112…the work of Geto’s curse manipulation. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death. Sentenced to death.

“No,” you said, your voice cracking. “No, why would he do that? My parents loved him, and he loved them, too! We grew up together, so why would he do that?”

“Based on the evidence, he most likely killed his own parents, too,” Yaga said. Your hands wound themselves in your hair as you tugged.

“That’s a lie,” you said. “Suguru isn’t like that. Suguru is good! Suguru looks out for those weaker than himself! He protects people, Yaga. It must be a mistake. It has to be a mistake!”

“Miss L/N—” he began, but you were already running, sprinting as fast as you could. There was no way. There was no way. There was no way.

Your house and the one beside it — Suguru’s house, a voice in the back of your mind nagged you, that’s Suguru’s house — were blocked off with yellow caution tape. Dozens of police officers were milling about the scene, barking into handheld radios, conversing tensely. One of them noticed you and extended an arm to stop your approach.

“Stay back, ma’am. This is an active crime scene. No outsiders allowed until the investigation has been concluded,” the officer said.

“That’s my house,” you whispered. “Officer, that’s my house. Why are there so many people here? It’s not true, is it?”

The officer didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The pitying frown on his face told you everything you needed to hear. It was true. It was true. Your parents, your parents were dead, and that meant —

What had it been like for them? Had your mother welcomed him? When she opened the door for him, had her eyes crinkled at the corners in greeting? Had she offered him tea, as she usually did, because she was so fond of him and he was so fond of the drink when made by her hand? And what of your father? Had he reached over to clap Suguru on the back, or had he tried to grab him in an affectionate headlock so that he could mess up his hair with all the zeal of a man half his age?

You threw up. Some of the vomit splattered onto the officer’s shoes, causing him to fold his lips into a thin, disapproving line. Taking a step back, he reached over to pat you on the back as you heaved and hacked, trying to expel the knowledge from your mind and finding that you were entirely unable to.

You walked back to the train station in a trance, your eyes reddened and glazed over, your mouth sour from the taste of the stale crackers the officer had handed you, your hands shoved in your pockets as you tried to remember to breathe through your nose. The officer had offered to escort you to the station, but you had refused. You needed the time to think, and anyways, what did it matter? No ordinary person could hurt you, and no sorcerer would.

“I didn’t think you’d come back alone,” a soft voice said from behind you. You turned around, your insides roiling at the very sound, your ears ringing as you took in Suguru’s casual posture. His hands, too, were in his pockets, and the streetlights cast misshapen, dancing shadows over his face, the effect worsened by the odd tilt of his head.

He was refusing to look at you. That was why he was standing like that. He couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes, and that was the only confirmation you needed.

“So what?” you said. “I did. Are you going to kill me next?”

“What?” he said. Briefly, he glanced up at you in alarm, and then, like he had remembered he didn’t deserve to feel betrayed by that kind of question, he slouched back down into the same apathy of earlier. “No.”

“Just do it,” you said. “Just do it, you fucking asshole! Why would — you — you killed my parents! You killed my parents, and now you’re just talking to me as if nothing happened? Why? Why would you…?”

His expression did not budge again. “They were filthy monkeys who deserved it.”

“Huh?” you said. The statement was so bizarre that, for a moment, your anger was forgotten. “What the fuck?”

“This world doesn’t need more non-sorcerers running around,” he said. “Every single curse you’ve ever fought, it’s their fault. Those idiots who don’t know how to control the meager amounts of cursed energy they have, they’re the ones who cause curses to manifest. You should be thanking me, Y/N. This’ll make your life that much easier.”

“Do you really think that's the case?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “With my entire heart, I think that it is.”

You had always, always followed Suguru. When he said to protect the weak, you did so. When he said to take care of others, you did that, too. Whatever he told you to believe, you believed. But how could you do that this time? How could you believe in the person who had murdered your parents?

“You killed my parents because of your stupid theory,” you said numbly. “You killed my parents. Suguru, you killed my parents.”

You didn’t care about the one hundred and twelve villagers. That was the most shameful thing: if it had just been that, then you might still have followed him. He could’ve convinced you — no. You could’ve convinced yourself that it was fine, that he really was looking out for you in that peculiar manner of his. It wouldn’t have been impossible. Even now, your resolve was so weak, and it was only the thought of your parents that allowed you to cling to it at all.

“They asked about you,” he said dully. “I let them. My own parents, I didn’t give them a chance to say anything, but yours…I let them ask. I guess you could consider it my last favor to you.”

The ringing grew louder. You pushed your palms against your ears in an effort to drown it out, but you couldn’t. If anything, it just grew louder and louder, more and more insistent. You couldn’t shake it off. You couldn’t make it go away, just like you couldn’t make Suguru’s words go away.

“It was the only thing they worried about. In their last moments, it wasn’t their own lives they begged for…it was yours,” he said, his gaze far away, his irises unreadable as he recalled that moment. “How strange is that?”

“Shut up,” you said.

“I told them you were okay,” he said.

“Shut up,” you repeated, though it was unsteady and unconvincing. “Shut up, shut up.”

“They were pretty happy about that,” he said, in a tone filled with dreamy recollection. “They didn’t fight much after I promised you’d be okay. What simple creatures they must have been, that even while dying they could only think to rejoice!”

You screamed. It was wordless and brittle, a symptom of your lungs’ collapse as you broke into sobs, fumbling in your purse for your phone. Suguru watched as you unsteadily punched in a number you had never bothered to save, not trying to stop you, maybe not seeing the point.

“Gojo,” you said when he picked up, before he could even say anything. “Gojo, please just — can you come get me? Please come get me.”

“Okay,” he said, to your surprise. He didn’t argue or call it a waste of time or point out that you were still bawling as you spoke. “Where are you? I can be there pretty soon if I steal one of the managers’ cars, I think.”

“By my house,” you said. Suguru did not move, showing you his hands, as if he was giving you permission to do what you wanted. It was your choice. If you just told Gojo that he was with you, then you had no doubt he’d be apprehended within minutes.

“I see,” he said. “I’ll be there as quickly as possible.”

You were the one who hung up, not him. You were the one who made the decision. You were the one who looked at Suguru and then turned your back to him so that, for once, he was the one behind you.

“I can’t reconcile it,” you said, using the ends of your sleeves to blot at your tears as you hiccuped. “I can’t understand it. Even after everything, I still want to follow you. I still want you to be my shadow. I still want to be yours.”

Don’t turn. Don’t turn. Don’t turn. You couldn’t turn around. If you turned around, then that meant your old teacher was right. Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. You could not turn around.

A dry breeze rustled through the leaves on the ground, sounding like footsteps against pavement. Don’t turn.

You turned. You should’ve known better than to expect anything different from yourself. You had never been someone who could stand in the front for very long. You would always turn. You would always run and cower and hide.

Anything you might’ve said died on your tongue as you saw he was already gone. You were alone. You had let him go. You had allowed that mass murderer, that criminal, to walk away from you. What kind of a sorcerer were you? Empty-minded. Weak-hearted. That sort, then. The horrible sort.

When the headlights of the car Gojo had borrowed swung around the corner, you had long since curled up on the grass, your cheek to the mud as you tried to grasp what you had done.

“Hey,” Gojo said. “Y/N?”

He must’ve gotten out of the car at some point, because suddenly, he was crouching before you, pulling you to your feet, his limbs awkward and gangly as he cocked his head, still wearing those ridiculous sunglasses despite the darkness.

“I’m a piece of shit,” you said, and then you were clutching the collar of his uniform jacket. “Why am I like this?”

“What do you mean?” he said.

“He killed my parents,” you said. “He killed my parents, and I let him walk away.”

“Who?” Gojo said, but it was a rhetorical question. He knew who. You looked up at him miserably, and he shook his head slightly, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. “You let who walk away?”

“I don’t think he was planning on seeing me,” you said, letting go of his shirt and pleading with him to understand. “We weren’t supposed to meet.”

“You saw Suguru,” Gojo accused, and now it was his turn to take you by the shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscle of your biceps, his eyes wild. “You saw him, and you didn’t tell me.”

Your lower lip trembled. “He killed my parents, Gojo.”

“That’s not true,” he said.

“It is,” you said. “It is, he told me it is, and I couldn’t even do anything when he said so.”

“Why?” Gojo hissed. “You only had to tell me! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just didn’t!” you said, and then you were crying again. “I couldn’t. Oh, they’re dead, and he killed them, he killed them, and they only asked about me when he did. Why am I the one who gets to live?”

His hands traveled from your arms to the nape of your neck, the heels of his palms pressing into your jaw as he tried to force you to look at him. But you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t, you hadn’t been able to before and you definitely couldn’t now.

“You know Suguru better than anyone. Don’t you think there’s something else at play?” Gojo said. He wasn’t asking for you. He was asking for himself. He wanted you to reassure him, tell him that it was alright, that his best friend wasn’t the monster you both knew he was. How was it fair? How could you be expected to reassure him?

You shoved him off of you. “No.”

“Then why’d you let him go?” Gojo said. “You must’ve thought that there was a reason, or else you would’ve told me. It’s the only explanation!”

“No, it’s not! The only explanation is that I’m shitty and weak and stupid, and I can’t help but rely on him. No matter what I do, I’ll rely on him! People like you don’t understand what it feels like. You can stand on your own, but I’m not like that!” you said, and then you were grabbing his hand — he always did that, you noticed, always turned his Infinity off for you even now that it was an automatic, constant process — unfurling his fingers and jabbing his index finger at your forehead. “Do you get it? You were right. I don’t have a spine. I don’t have one at all!”

“Pull yourself together, Y/N,” Gojo said. “He’s still out there. We just have to reach him before the others do, and then we can talk to him. If it’s the both of us, then he’ll listen. He’ll explain everything!”

“He already did,” you said. “You just don’t accept it, but that’s different than him not explaining at all.”

“So what, then? You’re just going to go back to the school and live your life as normal?” he said, scowling at you. “How could you even think of doing that? In what world does that make sense? You can’t go back and pretend like nothing happened!”

“It’s true. I can’t,” you said, because it was the fact you had been avoiding since the day you first set foot in the school, which you had always known in the back of your mind despite how you denied it. “I can’t go back at all. I can’t be a sorcerer.”

It was a rare thing to see Satoru Gojo speechless. If it were a lesser occasion, you might have laughed at the way his lips parted and his eyebrows knitted together in such a foreign way.

“Why not?” he said.

“I’m afraid I’ll follow him,” you said. “No, I know I will. If I stay, then I will definitely follow him.”

“You won’t,” Gojo said. “Follow me instead. Follow me if you have to, but you can’t leave. Not you, too.”

Another rarity: Satoru Gojo was afraid. Not of your absence, but of the changes it would bring. With Haibara gone, Suguru vanished, and then you…what would even become of the school? When so many pieces were taken away from it, could it even be considered the same place?

“I can’t end up like that,” you said. “I can’t even risk it. I became a sorcerer because of him; I’ll leave because of him, too. Anyways, you hate when I follow you. You prefer people who can stand on their own two feet. I know that about you now.”

“If you run away, I won’t forgive you for a long time,” he warned me.

“Then don’t,” you said, stepping away, though still facing him. “What good is your forgiveness, anyways? It won’t bring my parents back. It won’t bring Suguru back. I don’t even want you to forgive me, Gojo. I want you to hate me until you die.”

It was the last time you saw him for so long that his memory blurred away at the edges. The way he said your name, the way his hair shone in the sun, the slope of his nose and curve of his neck…once, these were things you might’ve been able to list with a great degree of accuracy. Not anymore, though. Now, if you thought of him at all, it was only that final image of him, framed by the headlights of that still-running car. It was not your name he had called out as you walked away from him, but something bitterer, a promise said with such sincerity it was all but a Binding Vow.

“Ten years,” he had said. “That’s how long I’ll hate you for. Not my entire life. Not until I die. Just for the next ten years.”

Life as an ordinary person was easy. Life without Suguru was harder. But you learned. You learned, through the years, how to stand on your own two feet. You learned how to live with only one shadow instead of two. You learned how to let your eyes adjust to light, gradually instead of all at once, so that it was an easy progression and free of pain.

There were times when you thought you had seen one or the other of the two who you had run from. There, across the street, was it Suguru reading the newspaper? Or in the bakery you walked past on your way to work, was it Gojo who was admiring the displays? They always vanished before you could grow close enough to ascertain their identities, though, remaining ever out of your grasp, existing as nothing more than phantoms in your periphery, refusing to let you forget the past entirely.

The first time you called Gojo was a year after you left the school. You weren’t expecting him to pick up, and when the automated message prompted you to leave a voicemail, you almost hung up in resignation. Something stopped you, though, and despite feeling entirely ridiculous, you cleared your throat.

“Ah, it’s Y/N. But I guess you probably knew that, considering you didn’t pick up. Well, I don’t have anything much to say, but I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing alright. I’m okay. The anniversary of my parents’ deaths is coming up, so I was planning on visiting their graves. I got a new job. Somewhere that I never would’ve expected to work when I was younger. It’s nice. I like my coworkers. They’re nothing compared to you, of course, but they’re fine enough. Anyways. Um. I guess that’s it. I don’t think you’ll call me back, but I just wanted to let you know I’m doing okay.”

It was a routine. Every year, on that day, you’d call him and leave him a voice message. He never once answered — you doubted he listened to the voicemails at all, either — but it soothed you to leave them, to leave one last connection to the world that had taken up so much of your life, and for so long.

More often than not, that time felt like a dream. If it weren’t for the thorned mourner’s bouquets which left pricks in your fingers or the ten calls you had made to Satoru Gojo, you wouldn’t have believed any of it had happened at all. Sorcery, curses, shadows and killers, best friends who betrayed you and boys you ran from, these were all things better suited to storybooks than real life.

Your mother’s favorite flowers had been roses, and you always made sure to bring some with you when you visited your parents’ graves. Roses for her and white chrysanthemums for your father, who had never had a preference for any particular flowers but was so sentimental that he would weep at any blooms being set by his headstone.

The roses were the ones that made the pads of your fingertips bleed, leaving bright red drops the same shade as their petals on the tissues you brought with you. You’d set the bouquet down and wrap your fingers with the tissues, watching as blood seeped through the thin paper, and then, without fail, you’d cry.

“It’s been so long without you,” you said, when enough time had passed that you could not be considered anything but an adult despite feeling like little more than a child. “It’s been so long, and I still don’t know what to do. Mother, father, I am grown now, yet constantly I wish I could ask you for advice. What was that song you’d always hum when I was tired, father? How did you make that tea of yours, mother? When did you know you loved one another? And a million other, sillier things. If I could think of nothing more pressing, I’d ask you about the weather, the time, and your plans for the weekend. I’d bid you a good morning and a good night. I’d complain about the rain and my job. Just as long as it meant I could talk to you again.”

You could not help it. You wept, bloody tissues fluttering to the ground as you ground your fists into your eyes, trying to stem the flow of your tears. Your breath came in quick, short gasps, and you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes in an attempt to lull yourself into a state of calm. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was the only thing you could do, but it was not enough.

Someone’s hand settled upon your shoulder, and it had been so long since you had felt even a semblance of physical affection that you did not immediately bat them away. Instead, your own hands fell to your sides, your head hanging as you watched the newcomer set a bouquet beside the one you had brought. Orchids and lilies. Lovely, pale things that contrasted sharply with the red of the roses next to them.

“You said in your voicemail that you’d be here at this time. I hope it’s okay that I came.”

It was Satoru Gojo. He no longer wore the sunglasses you remembered him to; instead, a black blindfold was wrapped around his eyes and forehead, causing his pale hair to stick up like he had been shocked. He did not quite smile when he noticed that you were looking at him, but something resembling that expression crossed his face.

“Gojo,” you said. “Why are you—?”

“It’s been long enough,” he said. “You’re a really hard person to hate, Y/N L/N. I did my best, but it was difficult. I hope that you know that.”

“So you’ve come to, what, tell me you forgive me?” you said. “Thanks, but I don’t need it. It’s as I said: your forgiveness means nothing.”

“Nah,” he said, and then he was grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’ve come to bring you back to sorcery with me.”

“What?” you said. “No. I quit.”

“You didn’t quit, you ran,” he reminded you.

“That’s the same thing,” you said. He grinned. It was the kind of grin that would’ve blinded you when you were younger, but you found that it was not so brilliant anymore. You found you liked it even more than you once had.

“Not in my books,” he said.

“Gojo, I’m not strong enough. I can lead a normal life without you and Suguru and the others, but if you throw me back into sorcery, I know I’ll cave,” you said. “I’ll turn back into that cowardly little girl I once was. I’ll seek out that shadow which I’ve spent so long learning to exist without.”

He sighed, and then he poked you in the forehead. “Not the case. See, you didn’t even waver this time! I think you finally did it, Y/N. You grew a spine.”

“Why do you want me to come back?” you said. “I’m not strong like you. I won’t give you anything you don’t already have.”

“It’s selfish,” he said. “I don’t want to tell you because it’s selfish, and you’ll laugh at me.”

“If you don’t tell me, then I won’t even consider it,” you said. Though his eyes were covered by the blindfold, you could sense him rolling them based solely on the way he pouted.

“I’ve spent the last ten years hating you for leaving us — for leaving me behind,” he said. “Everyone else was gone. I needed someone, but you left too, and then I really was alone. I want to drag you back into hell because I can’t face it by myself anymore.”

There were things left unsaid in that. Why you, for one? He could have anyone in the world, so why, after ten years, had he come to find you specifically? Why was it now that he could no longer bear the hell that was sorcery alone? But Gojo was not the sort who ever revealed his true self if he could help it, so you supposed those things would have to go unsaid for a little longer.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay?” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “I’ll come back, but I have a condition.”

“What is it?” he said.

“The next time I leave, or run away, or quit, don’t hate me for quite as long,” you said. “Don’t hate me at all. I know I told you that I want you to hate me until you die, but I don’t anymore.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” you said, in a direct mirror of your previous exchange.

“Okay,” he said. “Come on, then. Follow me.”

“Oh, that, too,” you said. “I won’t follow you. If that’s what you’re expecting, then you can forget about it. I cannot allow myself to follow anyone ever again. I cannot be that weak, or I’ll become someone I despise. Someone I don’t want to be, ever again.”

His expression morphed into one of shock, and then he did something so odd as to be beyond all rationality and logic. He beamed at you before patting you on the head. It wasn’t condescending; it was the kind of gesture that was like a promise, or a warning, depending on who you asked. Maybe in this case, it was both.

“It’s alright. Actually, it’s better if you don’t,” he said. “I like you more when you don’t follow anyone at all.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #reader insert #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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asktheritochampion · 10 days ago

Note

Chief Warrior and Champion of the Rito, Revali,

I hope this message finds you well and in good health. These are trying times for us all, even without the threat of the Calamity looming, and you, and you your fellow Champions, have given much to achieve the peace we do have.

Recently, even with the down-tick of monster activity, my dear home Lurelin, has been facing some trouble with bokoblins and the like. We believe there may be a den of sorts further along the coastline, but we dare not send any of ours closer for fear of great harm becoming them. While we could never dream of calling upon the aid of Hyrule‘s great champions for something as meager as the least of beasts, I’ve come to ask for advice.

I’m nowhere near sturdy enough to partake in close range fighting, and so in lieu of that I’ve taken up a bow. In all honesty, if you’ll forgive my frankness, I’m quite shit at it.

As a master of archery, do you have any tips for a beginner, as well as advice on how to handle the current issue at hand?

Best regards,

A friend of Hyrule (S.T.)

Usually if I were to receive requests for advice from amatures, I'd simply shirk them off onto the Rito who teaches archery to the fledglings. However, your earnesty endears me. These are turbulent times, after all, and even the very average must be prepared for anything.

My advice is as follows.

Ensure you are using a Hylian bow. While Rito bowmanship is far superior, Rito bows are built for the Rito frame. Longer arms to accomodate long wings, they are clunky when held by a Hylian with your short little arms.

Never grip your bow handle - it should sit loose in the curve between your thumb and forefinger, and fall when you shoot, this stops the rebound wave in your muscles from skewing your shot. For a beginner I would recomend wearing a wrist strap to catch the bow for you. Stand with your feet a shoulder width apart, keep your extended arm straight but do not lock-in your elbow, and with your drawing arm, keep your elbow straight in line with your wrist. Rest the body of your arrow on your pointer finger. I have been practising my craft since I hatched from the egg, and clearly you do not have the gift of that sort of time, however it is never too late to start learning such a vaulable skill. Practise as frequently as you are able. Start at a range of 20ft with a still target. 20ft is the typical range for an average beginner bow for a straight shot - meaning you can just aim at the target and shoot without much thought.

Once you have a feel for the bow and are growing more confidence, move back to 30ft. Here is where you will need to begin to focus on the arc of your shot. If you try to aim at the bullseye from too far for your bows capasity, the arrow will fall short and hit too low, so you need to start thinking mathematically and working out how much higher you need to aim to accomodate the curve. Keep shooting at various ranges until that equation begins to become subconcious.

As a Hylian, you are unfortunatly drastically held back by your innability to fly. If you can get to a high spot to snipe your targets, it shall give you a much greater advantage as it minimises the arc.

Remember to consider the wind around you - especially in Lurelin so close to the sea where the airflow is strong. Arrows are light and the wind can skew them, so you will need to accomodate that. Try to position yourself with the wind current beind you where possible.

Finally and most importantly - aim for the eyes. Most monsters are stunned when blinded. Even if you miss, a headshot is more damaging than a body shot.

Archery takes an enormous amount of skill, both physical and mental, to master. Do not be discouraged if you do not take to it swiftly. Even someone as acolmplished as I broke a few windows and shot a few allies when I was a fledgling still learning.

I wish you the best of luck and safety in your endevour.

#revali #age of calamity #breath of the wild #legends of zelda #tears of the kingdom #rito

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notmorbid · 2 months ago

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...best american short stories.

dialogue prompts from 100 years of the best american short stories, edited by lorrie moore and heidi pitlor.

death-bed promises should be broken as lightly as they are seriously made.

the dead have no right to lay their clammy fingers upon the living.

if you're going to snore, go to bed!

you look as if you'd seen a ghost or found a gold mine. i don't know which.

i don't expect to marry anybody.

don't ever bet on anything.

i didn’t realize it, but the days came along one after another, and then two years were gone, and everything was gone, and i was gone.

we've suffered like everybody, but on the whole it's a good deal pleasanter.

we were a sort of royalty, almost infallible, with a sort of magic around us.

i should think you'd have had enough of bars.

don't you want a cocktail before dinner?

i want to get to know you.

i don't really need much taking care of anymore.

i don't want you to forget.

have you got a picture of ___?

family quarrels are bitter things. they don't go according to rules.

i was caught in a trap. it wasn't set for me, but it got me all the same.

you wanted a story, so i gave you a good one.

write me a letter. don't forget. i'll be waiting.

my dreams never renege on me. they're all i have to go by.

i don't put the respect on dreams i once did.

are you sure nobody knows where i am?

i don't see why you should ever be afraid of anything.

you know i'd take care of you if anything ever happened, don't you?

don't go away. stay and talk.

you don't have to worry, you know. i wouldn't ever let anything happen to you.

i wish you wouldn't look so unhappy.

i didn't think you saw me. not at first.

how can you get away from anything here?

we're all human on earth.

we couldn't get away from each other if we tried.

i don't want to do a thing from now on till evermore.

sometimes there are about fifteen or twenty minutes in the week when i feel like myself.

i thought it might make you happy. i wanted to make you happy.

and what if they can hear us? who cares?

i thought you were too smart to get hung.

i swear if i'd known what i was doing i would have never hurt you so.

maybe it does some good if you believe it.

i hope you'll remember the things i tried to teach you.

honey, there's a lot that you don't know. but you are going to find it out.

don't you forget what i told you, you hear?

i think people ought to do what they want to do. what else are they alive for?

i can't forget where i've been, and what i've been.

i can't really talk about it. not to you, not to anybody.

don't be a martyr.

with the world in the mess it's in, it's a wonder we can enjoy anything.

if you know who you are, you can go anywhere.

buck up. it won't kill you.

i wish you'd talk to me.

don't you ever want to rest?

i think death is a wonderful thing. i look forward to it.

what tone? i didn't take any tone.

you give everyone too much. that's your trouble.

mad at me, huh?

i don't know why i did it. i'm sorry for it, isn't that enough?

god listened and didn't say yes or no.

you should have gone after them with an ax.

you've been lucky. you always have been.

i bet you're afraid of me.

why aren't you married? you're not ugly. are you gay or something?

how nice. you always try to say the right thing.

you can't seem to keep your mind on one thing for more than a minute at a time.

it's not exactly the kind of thing you can bring up over lunch.

can you keep a secret about what i did today?

i thought when i left, it would just go away.

i want more days like that.

you don't have a heart. there's nothing to love in you.

would you tell me something if i asked you? would you tell me the truth?

other people's dreams are boring.

two salaries and no kids, that's the way to go.

i always seem to miss you.

i don't think i'll ever be dead enough --- or dead long enough --- to get the taste of this life off my teeth.

your optimism always surprises me.

pick on someone your own size.

promise you won't get mad?

i could yell at you, but why waste my breath?

better late than never. i was sure i'd see you someday.

you're a regular whirling dervish.

i don't watch tv. i don't own one.

how do you connect with the rest of the world?

did you like growing up there?

i don't usually say stuff like that.

i've been getting these mixed signals from you. i can't tell if you're attracted to me or not.

you don't have to love me. i love you enough for both of us.

group sex is for teenagers.

i think our hopes are made when we are young, and we can never adjust them to the real world.

how long can you use your parents as an excuse?

a life is like a house. one has to plan carefully where all the furniture will go.

mr. grief and i went a few rounds.

if you think about fear, then you'll be afraid.

i want to be a hero, you know?

you can always trust unhappiness.

i will keep coming until you speak to me.

what brings you here after all these years?

can i hug you? i'd really like to give you a hug.

i worried about you the whole time.

i wanted to be with you all the time.

the moment you fall in love with someone, you are lost.

i had to let you make your own mistakes.

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp memes #inbox memes #ask memes #ask meme #historical meme

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leupagus · 4 months ago

Text

Half of this fic is just me looking for more excuses to put in all the cool women that the show wrote out

Still working on the next chapter for the GOT rewrite from hell, but I had to write a little about how the fuck menstruation works in Westeros (other than "oh you can get married now!" which I refuse to believe is the norm) and also to introduce the Sphinx:

The next morning, Shireen woke up to find blood on her shift and a sharp sort of twist in her stomach, as though she'd swallowed a molten pin. The blood came out easily enough, with frantic scrubbing in the basin, but the pain grew over the course of the morning.

"It's your flowering," said Maester Alleras briskly, when she went to him in a tightly-controlled panic. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen," said Shireen, realizing the date. Her nameday had passed two weeks ago.

"And what do you know of flowering?" he asked, smiling slightly at her blush. "Forgive me, but Northerners have queer ideas of teaching their children about these matters. I do not wish to presume your level of education."

"I know it can last for a week or more," Shireen said, thinking of Mother's cycles, how she would confine herself to her rooms to endure the pain in solitude and prayer. "It's very painful and disgusting, but it allows me to bear my future husband's children and therefore is a gift from the gods."

"Hmm. Well, that is what you were taught, at least," grunted the maester. He got up from his desk, rummaging through the cupboard behind him. He was a tall, skinny young man with the deep brown skin and tightly-coiled hair of a Summer Islander, and shared their fondness for brightly-colored nails: they seemed to dance along the shelves until he plucked out a jar and presented it to her with a flourish. "This will help with the pain, and stop the bleeding after this cycle. People of the North use it a great deal."

"Is it moon tea?" Shireen asked, taking it gingerly and wondering at Maester Alleras's use of the term Northerners, which sounded different from People of the North. Perhaps in the Summer Isles, everyone on Westeros was a Northerner. "Why do they use it so much here?"

"It is," he confirmed, "and as for why..." He shrugged. "I've only just arrived in Winterfell, you understand, and as you may have guessed—" this said with another smile— "I was born elsewhere. But from what I've gathered, they must be careful when they have children. The North can only feed so many."

Shireen thought of Fire & Blood, which Father had read to her as a child. The Winter Wolves had been a company of Northerners, who had answered Lord Cregan's call to fulfill the Pact of Ice and Fire with Rhaenyra Targaryen. They'd been greybeards who had knowingly marched to their deaths, for such was the custom of the North back then: at the start of each winter, the old men of each keep and castle and holdfast would choose amongst themselves who would go out into the snows. Some would return home in the spring, having endured the cold or escaped it to find their fortunes in southron lands; most would not.

"Put a thimbleful of this into whatever tea you like best," Maester Alleras continued, gesturing at the jar, his fingernails catching the light as it streamed into the rookery. "Once a day, and come back when you need more."

"Shouldn't I ask—" Shireen bit her lip.

But the maester caught her meaning; his eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't you ask your parents? Yes, I suppose you should. But they should be here to be asked, and they should have told you the truth."

"What's the truth?" Shireen asked, instead of admitting that Mother and Father had never told her anything about it. She couldn't imagine either of them even mentioning the subject. All her information had come from books, or from Mother's complaints.

"The truth is that if a cycle is painful and lasts for a week or more, that is the sign of an illness, not the will of a god. The truth is that you may well find it disgusting, but it is merely something our bodies do and should never be a source of disgust or shame to you or anyone else." He glared, though it did not seem directed at her. "And as for 'bearing your future husband's children,' the truth is that they are your children, just as much as his — indeed more so, unless he carries them about for the first nine months after their birth. But you will not be a woman grown for at least another two years, and any man who wishes you to bear children until at least that time is unworthy of your hand or your love." He sat back down, his half-dozen maester's links chiming musically. "Now run along, little princess."

Lady Sansa was just outside the door, with her brother beside her. "See, I told you she smelled funny," Rickon said triumphantly.

Shireen scowled at him. "Shut up." It was kind of him, she supposed, to have worked out that something was wrong and to wait for her outside the maester's chambers. But Rickon Stark was the sort of friend who was difficult to be grateful for.

"Yes, please do, Rickon," Lady Sansa said, pressing a businesslike kiss on the crown of Rickon's head before turning him round by the shoulders and pushing him down the corridor. Rickon protested, but went all the same, and Lady Sansa turned back to Shireen. "Moon tea?" she asked, nodding at the jar.

Shireen resisted the impulse to hide it somehow. It is merely something our bodies do and should never be a source of disgust or shame. "Yes, my lady," she said.

"Come along, then," said Lady Sansa. "I have some excellent tea from the Arbor. How does that sound?"

"Could I have a hot water-skin, too?" Shireen asked, as Lady Sansa looped her arm through hers.

"Of course. And the lemon trees in the greenhouse have given up their first fruits — we'll have lemon cakes for lunch instead of venison." She smiled and Shireen thought that even if Sansa Stark never took another husband or had children of her own, she was still all the mother that the North ever would need.

#Sarella/Alleras in the house!#seriously I love this character so much #I'm writing her here as a cis woman who's pretending to be a man because she wanted to be a maester #however all headcanons are obv valid and it's not like we're ever going to get an answer from Martin about this #also is this a chance to make a joke about how sansa is also 'mother'? MAYBE #anyway #got: bitches get stuff done #game of thrones motherfuckers #also I've seen the fanon around that Stannis read to Shireen as a child and that's why she thinks of it as a love language #which: just kill me #but also Fire & Blood is 100% the shit Stannis would read to a three-year-old

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howlsofbloodhounds · 2 months ago

Note

Thinking about the papyrus that makes the puzzles in nightmares castle

Also yes he IS the papyrus of something new, though from another timeline

Like he was there in like..the early days when they castle was done but not like, fully.

So like he must know nightmare VERY well, better then he knows his own brother at this point. Though he doesn't even know where his brother is, but from what he was told he may be dead?

Anyways, i think it'd be a relationship akin to whatever it is with flowey and papyrus. Papyrus still believes nightmare can be a good person.

Also i think nightmare would've tried the "hurting them as discipline" method once, when he was really angry. Only to be surprised that the papyrus got out his hold and went and hid in the library. Yeah he didn't realize that the occasional sparring and just watching him fight was enough for papyrus to get a rough idea of what to do, along with knowing him enough personally to know nightmare hates hurting his books and avoids it as much as he can.

Even more surprised when after he calmed down papyrus asked if he was alright, the reason why he did it, straight up just forced him to talk about it, and gave him a pat on the head and praised him for talking about his feelings

Yes this man forced an immortal being to say why he did what he did and even scolded him since "he could just tell him if he wanted something changed."

I truly think papyrus could fight god and win but ok

(Nightmare avoided papyrus for a while after that just...confused.)

More abt papyrus :3

being close to nightmare for a while i think he might've gone slightly off the rails mentally, just witnessing the insane shit nightmare does and maybe even because of his aura?

He is still very much papyrus, but he is a little closer to being like HT papyrus mentally.

Also i think he'd wear other clothing, actual armor instead of his battle body. Maybe something like a cloak too, thats like hanging off the side of his shoulder (that has a name, no idea what it is, just bear with me because i dont know how this shit works ✊️)

He's technically a guard in title, though he doesn't really do much guarding. Atleast he fulfilled his wish of being a royal guard?

He probably also learned proper etiquette, dancing and swordfighting. He doesn't really need it he just saw nightmare doing it and he thought if was cool, and well, nightmare doesnt have much to do after all of his friends dying- so he teached papyrus

He also knows piano! He is mostly self taught, and a little of when undyne taught him the basics. He learned because he missed undyne 😔

Actually, i think he'd pick up hobbies or have items to remind him of his friends. Snagging a random sanses hoodie because it looked like his brothers (and leaving some g and an apology note after.), learning piano(undyne), making his own hot chocolate recipe(grillby), ACTUALLY learning how to cook(undyne again), learning how to play the trombone(sans)

Also, just imagining nightmare wanting to fuck with killer so while killer is in the office he calls the papyrus over (and says to find his battle body) without telling killer. And just...killer being met with a papyrus that looks so eerily close to his. (I think every papyrus's body is slightly different, you dont notice it unless you'd be his brother or something)

Nightmare got scolded by papyrus afterwards but he wasn't really listening

Also papyrus spars with others frequently :3, he got permission to go out to AUs and spar with the people there (its mostly papyruses, undynes and alphyses but sometimes others too!) And he's done it for a long time aswell, he got really good at it! And he got even BETTER control of his magic then he already had

If you were to ever fight this papyrus it'd be one hell of a challenge for a shit ton of people, so thats fun

I love making papyri really strong and cool 💃

Anyways that was my papyrus rant

We could always use more Papyrus aus, especially something new papyrus.

{ @brokenramunebottle }

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sunshine-and-christmas-caryls · 1 month ago

Text

2024 Fivela Appreciation Week Day 4- Lyrics

Here are a few of the many songs & lyrics that reminded me of Fivela :)

(Side note- I added pictures of them from the show to each song because I thought it either fit the lyrics or just the general tone of the song. The scene(s) the screenshots are from are not necessarily an exact match for the song though.) @fivelaappreciationblog

Time in a Bottle- Jim Croce

youtube

“If I could make days last forever

If words could make wishes come true

I'd save every day like a treasure, and then

Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time

To do the things you want to do once you find them

I've looked around enough to know

That you're the one I want to go through time with”

The Only Thing Left- Vincent Lima

youtube

“I’ve watched every tragedy, waiting my turn

Now I’m wasting my courage just fearing the worst

Cause you stood and held me as everything burned

Now I’m one day removed from the worst day on earth

So take both my hands

Spin me around

I’m real in your arms

That’s enough for right now

We’ve been through the past

We’re still here somehow

You made it all real

When you said it out loud

We turned and we walked toward the chirp of the birds

As a droplet of rain found a home in the dirt

Oh, life tried to teach me it only gets worse

But I met you just after the end of the world

There’s spring in the distance, our backs to the smoke

My soul stirs so gently, it blends in with yours

We stood here together while everything burned

Now we’re one day removed from the worst day on earth”

My Perception of Love- Benjamin Amaru

youtube

“You are

The life

The world

And the stars upon everything else

In the night

When I'm lost

The sunrise

It is sunshine that falls down on us

Who you are

When you look

When you kiss

Whatever you do

Like the sky

High above

You're everything

My perception of love”

The Loneliest- Måneskin

*edited with a different lyric video of the song*

youtube

“So don't be sad when I'll be gone

There's just one thing I hope you know

I loved you so

'Cause I don't even care about the time I've got left here

The only thing I know now is that I wanna spend it

With you, with you, nobody else here

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It's obvious

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

You're still the oxygen I breathe

I see your face when I close my eyes

It's torturous

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

I'm sorry, but I gotta go

If you'll ever miss me, give this song

Another go

And I just keep on thinking how you made me feel better

And all the crazy little things that we did together

In the end, in the end it doesn't matter

If tonight is gonna be the loneliest”

Beautiful Lies- Tanner Usrey & Ella Langley

youtube

“I'd steal the moon from the stars

Just to get to where you are

But it seems these days you’re so damn far away And I know everything has changed

Nothing's supposed to say the same

But you’ve become a ghost in this place

So talk to me

Tell me what I need to hear

Wrap me up with those beautiful lies

And I know you're leaving

Yeah you're standing at that door

And I can see the heartbreak in your eyes

So keep on telling me those beautiful lies

You're the muse to my song

I should’ve known it all along

That forever was a promise you couldn't keep

My first mistake was believing that you would stay

When I know every good damn thing, it fades, yeah it fades”

Soft Spot- Keshi

youtube

“I don’t go out but I’ll do it for you

You never liked it when I drink too much

I hate to dance but I’ll dance for you

Cus I’d do anything to feel your touch

Don’t like anybody tell me why it’s different with you

Don’t believe in love but no one makes me feel like you do

I don’t say it much cus I just always thought that you knew

It’s what you do to me

I’m wrapped around your finger and I can’t stop

You know I got a soft spot for you

Baby can’t you see

I need you cus you’re everything that I’m not”

Forever- Little Dippers

youtube

“Hold me, kiss me

Whisper sweetly

That you love me, forever”

#Fivela Week 2024 Day 4- Lyrics #fivela #five x lila #fivelila #lila x five #fivelaweek24 #fivelaappreciationweek24 #2024 Fivela Week #Youtube

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satuguro · 2 years ago

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⠀⠀ ⠀ཾ ༚ TO FAULT A NET AU

[ INTERLUDE I: SOMETHING ABOUT YOU ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— while being at a party to protect your friends, you meet an unexpected visitor.

#CONTAINS— nothing tbh, just fluff and pining

#AUTHORSNOTE— this is a request based off of to fault a net, which can be read here. also, listen to about you by the 1975 while reading!

you weren't an avid party-goer.

that never stopped you from going whenever you wanted to end up in someone else's bed that night. but other than that, you didn't go to parties for the same reason why you didn't go to a lot of get-togethers; you had no friends.

at least you didn't. not until tara began getting targeting and you being not as heartless as many people believed you to be, you cared. which led to a deal with spider-man to catch the ghostface killer. which led you here now, pouring a shot for tara after she invited you to a party with her friends. emphasis on her friends.

they were all suspicious of you— you were observant enough to know that. even after driving them to chad and ethan's dorm, they were still wary of you (and for good reason, you had no qualms). but they didn't seem to object when you came along with them to some shitty frat party, so maybe your charm (could you even call your constant cynicism and dry humor a charm?) was working.

the music was horribly loud as you and tara stood at the drinking table. the bass was boosted to the point where your heart beat shook with every beat. it wasn't an overly crowded party, but the amount of people that was entering and leaving was making you almost paranoid. what if the killer was here? what if they were watching right now?

why did you agree to party while a killer was lose? to protect your friends from the possibility of death. the knife on your side suddenly weighed a lot heavier.

picking up a bottle, you squinted as you tried to read the label with the dim led lights flashing everywhere. "what even is this?" you asked her as you read it. jose cuervo.

"it's tequila, y/n!" tara said with a large smile (which made you happy, as she hasn't been able to smile for a while due to the recent events). her head turned to the side, her smile growing as she motioned over for people to join.

"two shots in and you're already tipsy," you commented, turning your head towards who she was waving over. your eyebrows raised when you saw chad, who was pulling a reluctant ethan over.

"i was trying to get him to talk to some girls!" chad said over the music, taking a cup from the table and pouring himself a shot.

"and did you?" you asked ethan curiously, who only looked at you with a sheepish smile. the tight white shirt he was wearing was practically glowing under the blue light, making your eyes flicker to his muscles (did he always have those?).

"god, no. not really.. actively looking, you know," ethan said with a lopsided smile. "and you, did you talk to anyone?"

"i'm talking to you, aren't i?" you couldn't help but say with a flirtatious smile, one that made the boy's cheeks flare red.

but despite the slight embarrassment, ethan looked at your face, eyes softening as he said, "are you flirting with me, y/n?"

"you wish."

and at your words, ethan shrugged. "maybe i do."

hiding the slight heat of your cheeks, you turned to tara as she began to shake you, wanting to take a shot. you failed to notice ethan's own blushing face as you turned to grab him a red cup. "what do you want? tequila, vodka, soju, beer.."

ethan's eyes widened as you kept naming out drink names. "oh! i, uh, don't really.. know how to take a shot," he confessed, making chad gasp dramatically, his hand hitting his chest.

"you're around the right people, e!" chad said excitedly, making you roll your eyes amusedly (chad was really a chad) as you poured him a bit of tequila.

"i'll teach you," you offered, tilting your head towards him as you handed him the cup. you grabbed a sprite, opening easily with one hand as you handed it to him as well. "you sip this after you take the shot. try not to breathe when you take it, okay?"

ethan nodded, eyes on you as you grabbed your own sprite and opened it. "i don't usually take shots." he explained to you, sniffing the alcohol, "it's.. gross."

"then you haven't been doing it right," tara said with a smile, raising her cup. everyone raised it with her. "cheers!"

you looked at ethan, nodding as you threw your head back and took your shot, swallowing it before sipping your sprite. ethan's face scrunched up a bit as he swallowed the shot and drank his chaser, but he turned to you and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and saying, "ah."

"that's my boy!" chad laughed, throwing his arm over ethan's shoulders as he laughed.

you couldn't help but laugh softly at that, your muscles relaxing slightly. whether it was due to the alcohol or the energy, you didn't know. you weren't used to being around people, but you found yourself not minding it. maybe you liked the presence of others more than you thought.

"i'm gonna go outside!" you told tara and chad, who nodded (chad however, sent you a thumbs up). you moved past ethan, failing to notice how his head followed to watch you walk away, adam's apple bobbing as he watched you make your way outside.

the side of the house was empty for the most part, and you leaned against the house, breathing in the fresh air. the backyard and front porch were buzzing with people, but as you recharged your social battery at the side of the house, you found yourself alone yet again.

but as just as you got yourself ready to head back inside, the familiar thwip sound made you stop. no way he was here.

using a web stuck to the edge of the roof, he hung upside down from a strand to stare at you. posed with his legs on the web, his face was close to yours as you looked at him, unimpressed. and in any other circumstance, he would have said some witty remark about it— something that would make him interesting, as the mask almost always gave him more confidence.

but from behind the mask, as ethan stared at your face up close, he found the words drying on the tip of his tongue. even with your brows furrowed and impatience evident on your face, you still looked unreal to him. hauntingly captivating. every word a poet would use to describe their love, ethan would easily use it to describe you.

like a painter with their muse, he studied you. the angles of your eyebrows, the curve of your face, the shape of your nose, the hue of your eyes, the shape of your lips— ethan realized he could look at you and never be tired of it. he'd never be tired of the feeling of his heartbeat quickening, of how his nerves simultaneously went off and calmed down, of how he felt such a strong sense of familiarity with you he couldn't point out.

your head tilted a little but your mouth didn't speak a word. teasingly, his head tilted a little too.

"can i help you?" you asked, pretending as though you didn't argue with the hero when you had a mask on your face. how would any other person react to seeing spider-man in front of them? it didn't matter; you weren't just any other person.

"you're welcoming."

"and you have no perception of a personal bubble."

spider-man slowly moved so that he could stand on the ground, disconnecting himself from the web. he hummed at your words. "you're really nice."

"thanks." a pause. "what's new york's very own spider-man doing here at this hour?" you asked, unable to fight your curiosity as you peered at him. was he patrolling around here?

"i'm supposed to be watching out for a killer," he replied cooly, making your brows furrow. "and since everyone here seems to be careless enough to party with a killer running lose," he said as though he himself didn't take a shot with you merely moments before, "i'm here to watch over it. besides," he shrugged casually. "you're like, dislocated from the group. anyone not with the group usually gets killed."

you scoffed at that. of course he was watching over the frat party. he was most likely watching over tara and the rest of the group.

"oh, c'mon," he said, and you swore you could hear the hero grin under the mask. "haven't you watched horror movies? anyone who walks away to get air ends up getting stabbed, and you," he motioned to you, "are alone! though i don't doubt you can protect yourself, but seriously, at least pay attention to horror movie rules!"

you couldn't bite back the small smile on your lips as you listened to the hero ramble.

usually you didn't get along with people who were incredibly talkative. for some reason, you didn't mind it when he did it.

"new york's friendly neighborhood spider-man is a smartass," you tsked, nodding your head slowly. "noted."

"i prefer the term knowledgeable, actually," spider-man correct you pointedly, and you couldn't stop the small chuckle from leaving your lips. the sound of your laughter made ethan's gaze soften slightly. "so? why're you not with people and actively seeking death?"

"i'm not actively seeking death," you corrected him, leaning against the wall again. "i'm recharging my social battery."

"introvert?"

"sure." you shrugged, sighing and watching your breath come out white in the cold. you glanced at him, eyes following his body as he leaned against the wall next to you, copying your movement. "aren't you supposed to be like.. climbing on walls and shit?"

"that's not all i do, you know."

"that's primarily what i know you for," you lied, cocking a brow at the hero. you knew him for more than that. you knew him as someone who carelessly patched criminals up in their house. someone who played with cats with a genuine smile. someone who ate your ramen after he patched you up, trying to tell you that he knew that new york's black cat would be a cat lady.

"ouch," the hero said with a laugh, "maybe the killer should be scared of how mean you are."

"hopefully they are." you said with a hint of a smile. "but i mean.. aren't you supposed to be looking over the party? why're you here with me?"

the hero shrugged casually, his cheeks burning red behind the mask. "there's just something about you," he said, making you roll your eyes.

"seriously— was that a line?"

"you wish," he said, throwing your own words from earlier right back at you. you couldn't help but grin at that, tilting your head to look at him.

"maybe i do."

now it was his turn to laugh at that. it was a pretty sound, one that you didn't get to hear as often as you liked. a comfortable silence surrounded the both of you, the only noises coming from the people talking in the backyard and the muted bass of the music.

"i don't like parties," spider-man said to you, making you raise your eyebrows and glance at him. "i mean— i used to not mind them, i didn't get invited to a ton, but i liked them when i did go. but after the, uh, spider thing.. my senses aren't really cut out for that."

you tilted your head out of curiosity. why was he telling you this? you didn't mind it, really, but it was surprising to hear the hero open up to you— the real you without the mask. "you get sensory overload?"

"yeah, something like that," he murmured softly, listening to the muted bass. "loud music, lots of people, cramped space, heightened spidey sense—"

"spidey sense?"

"yes," he said, watching as you let out an amused laugh. "but as i was saying, it doesn't really make a good mix, y'know?"

you nodded your head in understanding. a beat of silence passed. then another. and another, until you found yourself telling him something that you never liked admitting to anyone but yourself. "the whole party scene isn't for me either. it's too.. crowded. too much socializing. i'd rather just visit the museum or watch a shitty show with a few people i genuinely care about instead of wasting my time being around people i don't know."

"jesus, you really are an introvert."

"oh, shut up," you scoffed with a smile, making the hero grin under his mask.

"museums, huh? you seem like the type."

"yeah," a nostalgic smile ghosted over your face, "i like just going there and staring at the pieces of art, the paintings, the statues, everything. i like just.."

"studying them," he finished for you, eyes set on your face as you nodded. "taking in their features."

"exactly. and how it's not all perfect, but all their characteristics just fit so well to what they are, what their history is, and.. it's just beautiful, you know?" you found yourself smiling a little sheepishly at the mini ramble you went on. but ethan's eyes were on you the entire time as you spoke.

"yeah, i know."

#AUTHORSNOTE— again, this is based off of to fault a net, which can be read here. thank you for reading xx

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