#although there is the cursed other option of simply

[nollypolly]

currently thinking about names in tlt. names are very much a subject that is constantly touched on in the universe- names typically follow which house one belongs to. the most explicit of this is the Tridentati, but that extends to pretty much everyone we meet in book 1. when gideon fully adopts the role of harrowhark's caviler at the end, it's repeated for the second time that nav is a niner name.

and then we find out john changed his lyctor's names post loved-one-slaying. their pre-resurrection names are forgotten, revered as holy even within the private og lyctors. he takes their names, a symbol of where they're from and the earth they failed, and strips them to the bone. he tacks on their cavalier's name on the end as an afterthought, a tribute to the graveyard he turned his friends into. even then, the cavaliers names are lost. he replaces them with what he thinks represents them, despite there being very little chance he was close enough to them to come up with something more than an incredibly shallow understanding of who they are. pyrrha becomes Duty. christabel becomes Joy. we don't know cytherea's saint name, but considering how even john wasnt a fan of loveday, it would make sense why she wouldn't want to use an alias for the most important person in her life. even less so one created by the man who not only lead her to her death, but never even liked her. hell, john doesn't even bother using most of the cavalier's names censored in ntn.

and then we're brought to gideon's first name. she is (unwittingly by the ninth house, in their defense) named after g1. after all, wake's ghost's last words come from right after he pushes her out of the airlock. we know that gideon dies in htn and pyrrha takes over the meatsuit. we know from ianthe's blowup in ntn that john is in active grief. so, now imagine, you just lost every last person you loved, and this sad little girl gets brought to you and she's apparently your long lost totally dead daughter. cool, fine, whatever- you're god, so really death is nothing but some annoying hoops you have to jump through to get what you want. he turns her corpse into a construct, tethers her soul to it, and gives her a bedroom with those glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars and all. luckily there are a lot of newly vacant rooms, haha! and then, as he did with everyone his holy hands have touched, john renames her.

kiriona is pronounced closer to gideon than siri-ona in te reo māori. in typical john fashion, he strips her of her name representing where she is from, blessing her with a new one made in his image. and, once again, he turns her into a tribute for what he lost. g1deon is dead. john honors him by naming his daughter after his best friend, in a dead language, both of which john had a hand in murdering.

she can't be called gideon bc it's a memory of how John failed the person who was most loyal to him. she has to be called something similar as tribute. kiriona isnt his daughter, isn't a person, but instead is a vessel for all of his pain and regret. exactly like the ninth house, kiriona has been transformed into a tomb for her father's grief, and her renaming only cements that.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

CL16 | Strategy to Your Heart

Summary: Ferrari hasn’t been doing well in the races lately, and according to Charles, there's only one person to blame for the bad strategies: you.

Charles Leclerc x colleague!Reader (enemies to lovers)

WC: 4.3K

Warnings: curse words, slightly misogynistic

Masterlist

Charles stormed into the garage, his eyes blazing with anger. His race had ended disastrously, again, and there was only one person to blame. As his race engineer, you were responsible for his strategy, which lately, had been lacking significantly and he despised you for it. The car was finally improving, yet he couldn’t seem to win a race. Simply because his race engineer managed to fuck up every time.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. “Are you trying to sabotage me?”

You looked up in surprise as he approached you. Charles' anger was clear as day as he got in your face, making your hands shake from anxiety and your blood run cold. Your expression hardened as the accusation settled, a glare replacing the shock in your eyes. You opened your mouth to explain, to say something – to calm him down, but he cut you off. 

“I don’t need your excuses! You clearly don’t know what you’re doing!” He yelled. The look on his face, and the posture of his body – which was much taller than yours – were intimidating. Never mind his unrelenting glare and the finger he pointed in your face before storming off to his driver's room.

His insult stung deeply. You understood that he was upset at how the race went, but he could’ve reacted differently. He just humiliated you publicly, in front of all your colleagues; he didn’t even let you get a word in edgewise. You could feel the anger bubbling up inside you at his behaviour. How dare he insult you like that? It wasn’t even your fault. You stared after him as he stomped away, before turning on your feet, storming off in the opposite direction.

You had known Charles for a long time now. Although you had never spoken much, you always greeted each other, until you got your new position in the team. Charles was already driving for Ferrari when you first started there as an intern. You joined in on meetings with the drivers and sometimes spoke to them during these, but you didn’t see the drivers much otherwise. After your time as an intern, you had gotten a full-time job and worked your way up the team, and now, finally, you had made it to race strategist for Charles Leclerc, where your decisions actually had an effect – or so you thought.

During all your years at Ferrari, the previous head of strategy, Rueda, always listened to and appreciated your opinions and suggestions for the race strategies. He supported your development over the years and saw you grow from an inexperienced intern to an expert with a unique view. Before he left Ferrari, he promoted you to Charles’ race engineer; he believed in your skill and thought you could provide unexpected, but well-working strategies that would lead Charles to victories. 

However, after Rueda left, and Ravin Jain took over the job of head strategist, your opinions were ignored. You worked especially hard to convince him you deserved your current position. You developed numerous possible strategies for every one of Charles’ races, running tons of simulations to make sure you had a strategy for every situation. You thought about all the unexpected circumstances that might arise and how to maximise the outcome for each of them. You knew exactly what to do in every situation to ensure a good ending position for Charles, but Jain undermined you every single time. You would present him with all the information you had collected, and show him all the possible strategies and which ones you expected would work best, but he would never listen to you. Jain would always overrule your decisions with different options that somehow turned out much worse. As a result, Charles lost so many more places than necessary, and missed so many more podiums – wins even – than he should’ve.

The worst part was that Charles blamed you for everything. You were new in the position of race strategist, and you wanted to leave a good impression on the team and, most importantly, have a good working relationship with Charles. In your line of work, teamwork and cooperation, and consequently trust, are incredibly important. You wanted Charles to You wanted Charles to rely on you for strategy, allowing him to focus solely on driving. But he couldn’t. He questioned every advice you gave – whether it made sense – and more often than not, it didn’t. The relationship between the two of you was anything but one of trust.

Charles didn’t know what was happening between you and the head strategist. All he knew was that the strategies were awful and he was losing races that he could have won. He didn’t know how amazing and thought-out your own strategies really were, and how good you were at your job if you actually received the opportunity to do it. As a matter of fact, he had never had a real conversation with you before you got your new role. Previously, you just hung around in the background, only speaking with your team and some work friends you had made along the way, but never directly with the drivers. Quite frankly, he questioned whether you were even qualified for your job.

Although Charles didn’t know much about you, his opinion about you was formed and unchanging. To him, it seemed you didn’t know much about racing strategies or engineering; the results of your strategies and your silence during the debriefs were enough proof for him. There was only one logical explanation for how you’d gotten your role in the team; you had gotten your position through favouritism – or perhaps you’d done the head strategist a little ‘favour’.

– – – – –

During the next race, Jain had done it again. You had developed the perfect strategy for Charles, you had worked everything out so you were prepared for every situation. But when you showed the results to Jain and suggested your preferred strategy, he told you that your strategies could be better and you should ‘try this’. You knew it wasn’t a suggestion but an order to drop your strategy and use his instead. The result left you feeling defeated. Charles would undoubtedly be upset with the outcome, outing his anger on you, while you couldn’t do anything to make it better.

From your spot in the garage after the race, you could already see him stomping towards you. You couldn’t blame him really, he had missed out on yet another podium due to a bad strategy.

“What now?” you muttered under your breath as you saw him approach, bracing yourself for another confrontation.

“What now?” Charles echoed, his tone mocking. “You’re asking me that? You couldn’t form a proper strategy to save your life! How did you get this job in the first place? Sleep with the boss?”

You whipped your head around at his comment, narrowing your eyes as shock and anger coursed through your body. You had heard comments like this many times before; Formula 1 is a man’s world and you know what the men around you are like. You know you shouldn’t have expected anything less from Charles, yet you had. You were surprised that Charles would say something like this—something so vile. Yes, you had never really gotten along, but there had always been mutual respect. In all your interactions with Charles, he seemed kind enough, even if he was frustrated with you; to make such a misogynistic comment was a new low for him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? How can you even say something like that? Do you know how offensive that is?”

“You’re not denying it,” he yelled back at you.

You scoffed. “I’m not doing this,” you said, shaking your head before walking away, the tears welling up in your eyes. It felt like a betrayal. 

Charles followed you, “How about you explain why you keep screwing up my races?”

You ran your hands over your face in frustration as you rushed away from him, quickly making your way to your office. Charles had already upset you, and you didn’t want to cry in front of him – your job was already hard enough without him holding something like this over your head. If your colleagues found out you had cried on the job, you would never hear the end of how women can’t handle the pressure of F1. You tried to close the door as soon as you entered your office, but Charles was already there with you, staring you down. His arms were crossed in a nonchalant manner, but his face showed his annoyance clearly. “Well?”

You tried to avoid answering his question, but it seemed impossible. Even though you had kept silent (except for your scoff, that is), he wouldn’t leave you alone. God was this man frustrating. Your patience snapped.

“I’m not the one screwing up your races, Charles. If you have any issues with the strategies you should take it up with Jain, because he changes my plans every time.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, frowning.

“Every strategy I create, Jain overrules,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you closed in on him. “I come up with plans based on simulations, and data. I’m ready for every scenario. But he dismisses them and forces his own strategies, which obviously don’t work. You’re blaming the wrong person.”

Charles stared at you, the anger in his eyes slowly giving way to confusion. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I tried,” you replied, frustration seeping into your voice. “But you were too busy yelling at me to listen. And honestly, I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly processing what you had said. “So, Jain is the one messing up the strategies?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “And it’s been incredibly frustrating to watch my hard work get thrown out and to then take the blame when it fails.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be. You’ve been yelling at me for months when it wasn’t even my fault.”

“Why didn’t you do anything about it?” Charles asked.

You laughed at his question. “What was I supposed to do? You know how it is—actually, you don’t, because drivers are privileged,” you sighed at the frown on Charles’ face, “no one would have believed me if I had told them, or they probably would have agreed. And if I had gone against Jain, I would have been fired so fast,” you trailed off.

Charles sighed. You were right; how on earth were they supposed to fix this? Jain would just continue to override your decisions no matter what, and that obviously wasn’t beneficial to anyone.

“For the next race, show me your strategy, okay? We can look at it together and if I agree we can work something out. Together.”

You smiled dryly at Charles’ suggestion. If he agrees? Who does he think he is? Nevertheless, you concur, if only to get rid of him. It doesn’t sound very convincing, but Charles is satisfied nonetheless.

– – – – –

For the next race, you had prepared more than usual. After the first few encounters with Jain you had given up on preparing your races thoroughly; it felt like a waste of time. But knowing that Charles would listen to you, and you might finally get to use your own strategy motivated you. 

You carefully discussed your plans with Charles in his driver’s room, away from everyone else. He listened attentively while you explained all the possible strategies and the one you thought would yield the best results. This was the first time Charles actually heard you talk about the strategies with enthusiasm, and he admired your knowledge of the topic, although he was somewhat surprised after your previous interactions. Hearing your passion for your work and knowing that you weren’t the reason for the unsuccessful races finally allowed the much-wanted bond of trust to form.

“We're going to use your strategy,” Charles said decisively. “No matter what Jain says, we'll do whatever you think is best. You've thought everything out, it'd be foolish to do something entirely different.”

"And if Jain gets mad and wants to fire me?" You asked, a hint of concern in your voice.

"The results will likely be good, so there'll be no reason for him to get mad,” Charles replied confidently. “But if he does, I'll vouch for you."

You nodded in response, a nervous but grateful smile on your face. It was exciting to finally use one of your own strategies, even though Jain would probably reject your proposals again.

Your assumption was correct; during your meeting with Jain, he had once more told you to follow his strategies instead of using your own ideas. Although Charles had told you there wouldn’t be any reason for your boss to get mad if the race went well, you weren’t assured enough to follow his advice. You couldn’t take any risks with your job – you weren’t experienced enough to get a similar job anywhere else, especially with the reputation Jain had built for you. If you had to follow his strategy to keep your job you would.

To say Charles was upset with the strategy during the race would be an understatement. He didn’t know where it had gone wrong – you had discussed this, hadn’t you? You came to the agreement that you would use your own strategy instead of listening to Jain, yet you hadn’t. The things you were telling him to do were nothing you had discussed during your private meeting. Charles felt frustrated at your inability to follow through; you were ruining his chances of a win because you were a coward who wouldn’t dare to stand up to her boss and he wasn’t going to take it.

“Boxing next lap, Charles.” 

Charles scoffed at your order before responding, “Box now? That’s ridiculous! The tyres are feeling fine, I can stay out longer.”

You sigh from your position on the pit wall. “Charles, the team thinks it’s best that you–” 

“I don’t care what the team thinks! What do you think is the best move?”

“Charles–” you stammer, getting nervous from his reaction.

“You know the team always makes the wrong calls, Y/N. What do you think we should do?”

You sighed, feeling the weight of the decision. If you go against Jain’s orders now and the race ends badly, you’ll be in big trouble. Charles said he’d vouch for you though, and the current strategy wasn’t going to get the team anywhere good either. You contemplate your options.

“Stay out a few more laps.”

Although you couldn’t see it, Charles smiled triumphantly in the car, knowing he had convinced you to use your own strategy. This was a good start, he just needed to do well now, to make sure you got your confidence back. So, for the next races, you would follow your own strategies as well instead of simply following Jain’s orders.

The race had ended up much better than anybody had expected, all thanks to your strategy. If you hadn’t switched up the strategy, Charles would have ended up significantly lower in the ranking. After finishing up his duties, Charles sought you out in the garage. You thought he would yell at you again, for going against your plan – going rogue, but he didn’t.  

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “Your strategy worked. Next time, we’ll use your plan again. From the start this time, forget whatever Jain tells you.” 

You nodded in response, a tight smile on your face. It was nice that Charles showed his appreciation for you. However, now that you were standing still instead of moving around, you were easier to spot. So far, you had managed to avoid Jain by blending in with the bustling garage, but Charles’s presence made you easy to find.

“Y/N!” Jain said loudly, making your eyes shoot over to him quickly.

“We need to have a serious talk! Follow me to my office.” The look on his face was scolding and his body posture showed his anger clearly as he walked off. 

You met Charles’ eyes for a second, a nervous smile on your face. “I better go,” you said before rushing after your boss. 

“I’ll come with you,” Charles responded firmly, joining your side.

“I said I’d vouch for you if Jain became angry. I always keep my word,” he said after seeing the confused look on your face.

Jain had already taken a seat in his office when you walked in.

“What the hell were you thinking? Ignoring my strategy?” he hollered.

You took a deep breath, mustering the courage to go against him, but Charles beat you to it, stepping out from behind the door.

“There’s no need to yell at your employee like that, Jain. Besides, her strategy led to much better results than boxing would have.”

Jain’s eyes quickly darted over to him in surprise, having missed his presence, before focusing on you. “You’re here to follow orders, Y/N. Not to make your own decisions. You disobeyed a direct instruction.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Charles had already started speaking, his voice steady but firm. 

“With all due respect, Jain, it’s clear that Y/N’s strategy was superior today. Her approach brought us better results, and we need to recognise that.”

Jain turned his glare to Charles, clearly not pleased with the driver’s intervention. “This is none of your business, Charles. She’s my employee, and she needs to follow my orders.”

“Actually, it is my business,” Charles shot back.

Your eyes darted over to him. This was not at all the right time, but he looked hot as fuck defending you like this. He hadn’t even had the time to change after the race, his driver’s suit hanging around his waist with his black fireproofs on full display. His hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed, whether it was from the race or frustration, you weren’t sure. You could feel your own cheeks turning hot at the sight, and you were certain a blush was spreading across your face, too.

“Her strategies directly affect my performance on the track. Today, she proved her worth. She deserves the chance to implement her plans without being overruled.”

The room fell silent as Jain stared at Charles, his anger simmering beneath the surface. 

No, not the right time at all.

Jain finally sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. You’ve made your point. But if it fails there will be consequences.”

You nodded eagerly, “of course.”

Charles nodded as well, happy with the outcome.

– – – – –

The next few races turned out much better. Without interference, you could confidently present and implement your strategies. And the results spoke for themselves: Charles consistently finished on the podium. His performance improved so much that even Jain had to admit your strategies worked better than his.

When the next race weekend arrived tensions were high. So far, your racing strategies had proved successful, but you aimed for more every race. It was certainly helpful that you and Charles were a good team. Ever since the issues between Charles and you were resolved, there was mutual trust, and Charles supported every strategy you came up with, even if it seemed risky.

You wished Charles good luck with a nervous smile before he got in his car and, as had become a ritual, he responded confidently with a “we’ve got this” and a reassuring smile that somehow always calmed your nerves.

When the race began you confidently pursued your strategy while Charles navigated the track with precision. Everything went perfectly: the pit stops as swift and smooth as could be and every decision moving Charles closer to the front.

There were only a few laps to go with Charles steadily in second place, closing in on the leader. He managed to get within DRS range and, as the team watched in anticipation, executed a flawless overtake, taking the lead in the race. The garage filled with cheers and applause as the team celebrated his amazing overtake. Meanwhile, a big smile overtook your features as you watched Charles drive on the screen in front of you. 

You stared in disbelief when Charles crossed the finish line in first place. The joy was immense; the whole garage was celebrating the fresh win as you hugged the rest of the team on the pit wall in delight. You had done it – your strategy had led him to a win.

Following your colleagues, you rushed to the parc fermé, wanting to be the first to celebrate this amazing race with him. You watched as Charles got out of his car, pumping his fist in the air in victory. The smile on his face was huge as he jogged to the team waiting to congratulate him. 

“We did it, Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a celebratory hug. You laughed at his antics but hugged him back nevertheless. If there wasn’t a barrier between you, he would have lifted you up and spun you around, that’s how happy he was. Two months ago he couldn’t have envisioned a win any time soon, and now he had managed to snatch up the first place, all thanks to you.

After his weigh-in, he walked back to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I want you to come up on the podium with me,” he said. 

“Ah,” he tutted, already knowing you would protest before you even opened your mouth, “it’s just as much your win as it’s mine.”

“Charles…”

“You deserve to be up there too! It’s your first win!”

You stared at him hesitantly.

“Come on, Y/N. Just this once. If you say no, I’ll just ask again next time, and the time after that, and—”

“Next time?”

“Yes. We’re obviously going to win many more races together!” Charles said with a childish grin. “Come on!” He continued, tugging on your sleeve.

You finally succumbed, nodding your head. “Okay, fine.”

“Ah perfect! I’ll see you up there!” He said with a big grin, before walking off to do his interview.

You used the time Charles was in the cooldown room to mentally prepare yourself. You were about to stand on the podium. Your face was going to be broadcast on live TV for everyone to see, and it made you nervous. You smiled nervously at the people guiding you up the stairs to the podium where you met Charles. He smiled comfortingly and chatted with you relaxedly while you waited for his name to be called out. 

When the time came, you tried to stay in the background, hiding behind Charles who walked out in front of you before taking your place on the separate podium for the winning constructor. From your position, you could see the crowd cheering for Charles while the Monegasque anthem sounded over the track. You admired the sea of red that was here for Ferrari, for Charles. When the Italian anthem played you made eye contact with Charles, laughing silently with him over your colleagues singing along loudly.

You gracefully accepted the trophy for the team, smiling and lifting it up after it was offered to you. The sound of your team cheering and applauding filled you with joy. You couldn’t be prouder of Charles for this achievement, and maybe of yourself too, especially when you saw the admiring look Charles was sending you. It made your thoughts hazy, tuning out for a second as you enjoyed this moment of glory while staring out at the crowd in front of you.

Then, suddenly, you heard the pops of bottles. You could barely set down your trophy before your face was covered in champagne.

“Charles,” You gasped. 

Barely able to breathe, you tried to cover your face with your cap. It was no use, however; the champagne was already pricking in your eyes as you blindly tried to push Charles away. When the other men on the podium targeted him, you used the moment to pop your own bottle of champagne. Of course, your goal was to completely douse Charles as payback, but he was quick to flee. Before you got the chance to properly drench him, it was already time for the podium picture. Charles grinned at you mischievously from his spot next to you. “You look good in victory champagne,” he teased. 

You glared at him jokingly. You were certain that you looked ridiculous with your cap askew and your clothes completely soaked in champagne, not to mention the mascara that was probably running down your face. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

“Thanks, I think.”

He laughed with you, a gleeful look on his face. 

“How about we go out for a celebratory drink?” He asked with a gentle smile.

You noticed the more serious tone in his voice straight away. His expression was one you didn’t recognise; he seemed almost insecure.

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t resist teasing him. 

“Are you asking me out, Charles?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Well, yeah. I guess I am. What do you say?”

You laughed again, before nodding your head. 

“A drink sounds good.”

[abbyfmc]

Yandere King! vs Yandere Emperor! x Empress! Reader Headcanons:

Warning: Mention of murder, kidnapping, harassment, possible abortion attempts, abuse, etc. Yanderes are NOT good couples in real life, and they should not follow these types of illegal practices either. This is only for 18+.

If you met the emperor first, it was probably when he was a prince and you were a princess.

If you met the king first, a similar case could have occurred where it was before inheriting the throne.

While the king is sovereign of simply a kingdom, the emperor is sovereign and full governor of an empire that may be made up of several towns or kingdoms.

On the one hand, the yandere king would only have you as his wife and queen; while the emperor, although he has you as his empress (and therefore, his main wife) would have to be in charge of ruling the imperial harem and fighting against probably palace intrigues.

The yandere king tries to impress you in every way possible because he KNOWS that the emperor is far superior to him in both status and economic, political, social and military power.

What they both have in common is that they DO NOT take no for an answer.

Are you in love with someone else?, both the emperor and the king will pursue they and do everything possible to make they disappear.

If your parents had plans to marry you to the yandere king, the emperor could meet with them and try to convince them that he, having a higher status, is a better choice for you.

If your parents had plans to marry you to the emperor, then the yandere king would do everything he could to make or force your parents to change their minds.

If you marry the king: 10.1 -While the king will be happy to have you, the emperor is devising a plan to invade that kingdom, take ownership of it (if he has not done so before) and in the process kidnap you and take you to his imperial palace. 10.2 -The king, on the other hand, will do his best to keep you out of the sight of the yandere emperor. 10.3 -Once the Yandere Emperor manages to invade the Yandere King's kingdom, he will capture him while he will kidnap you in his palace and force you to be his as he always wanted.

If you marry the emperor: 11.1 -You would be his empress, consort, concubine or even his noble lady. 11.2 -You would have your own mini palace. 11.3 -If you are an empress (which is most likely), you would be highly respected by everyone. 11.4 -During your coronation, the yandere king will have watched you from a distance. He would see how beautiful you were, but with the pain that you were not marrying him, but his enemy. 11.5 -The yandere emperor would take you on a trip to all the towns, kingdoms and tribes that he has in his power. 11.6 -The yandere king upon seeing you would be obliged to greet you like --Greetings to your majesty-- for the yandere emperor, and for you it would be :--Greetings to your highness the empress-- followed by kneeling before you as a way of reverence.

If you get pregnant, regardless of the biological father, the opposing yandere will not like it at all and could very well make you "accidentally" abort. The opposing yandere would even be able to forcibly make you pregnant.

Yes, they would probably be capable of ab#sing you, since they think that only they can be the parents of your children.

In the case of the yandere emperor, if the king dares to curse you for not being his and even try to force himself on you, the emperor could punish him by capturing him, taking away his kingdom and possessions as well as cutting or burning his tongue.

If this is the case of the yandere king, he could declare war on the emperor in your honor, and if he ends up losing, he would flee with you to any unknown place.

Divorce is not an option.

Trying to escape either.

If they know that you love someone else, both of you would be able to kill that someone in any case.

If a yandere found out that you received gifts from the opposing yandere or someone else that they didn't authorize, they would make you throw it away or throw it away themselves.

They would both appreciate any kind of gifts you give them.

A kind smile from you and affectionate words will be enough to make them smile and blush.

They would both protect and care for you. They would also appreciate any kind of care you give them, whether they are sick or not.

[binniebakery]

Closer

College AU!Taehyun x Gn!Reader (Strangers to ..) Suggestive! ♡ Summary: As a college student it was practically normal to go drink at parties if you were social enough. So when you kiss an attractive guy that you’ve never seen before, and he returns the favor, is that normal too? ♡ Warnings: Smoking, drinking, slight cursing. MDNI please! (also I’m not familiar with smoking so if I use terms wrong or misrepresent it I apologize!) not proofread because I'm lazy lol ♡ A/N: Totally wasn’t listening to ‘one of the girls’ while writing this !! don't ask me why I’ve been writing so much suggestive content lately I just don’t touch grass... mb guys 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️(I'm honestly on a roll rn) anywho enjoy this short thing!

Maybe you had too much to drink. Maybe. Hell, you could’ve even been cross-faded with the amount of joints being tossed around you, who knows? Your vision felt slightly hazy as a small smile sat on your lips, watching the blurbs of people dancing around to the music blasting in the tightly packed living room you were in. The frat parties at your uni were always a sight to see. You leaned against the wall of an empty corner, using said wall as leverage as your legs were feeling a little too much like jelly. Yeah, you were definitely crossed. Normally you were glued to your friend’s side but it seems tonight she’d run off with a random guy once again. You rolled your eyes at the thought. After a few minutes of deciding whether to call up your friend or a taxi to get back to your dorm, you find yourself staring at a male standing across the room. One hand holding a red solo cup, the other in his pocket as he swayed to the beat of the music. Although you were pretty familiar with everyone that went to these parties every weekend you’ve never seen that specific pair of large brown eyes before. You squinted your eyes in a weak attempt to get a better look but your vision was just too blurry, you were way too far gone. Normally you’d admire from afar but the mixed vodka in your system was encouraging you to go over to him. You bit your lip as you weighed your options, your eyes focusing a little too unnecessarily hard on the cup in your hand and swishing the alcohol inside around. Fuck it it’s not like you’ll ever see him again he probably doesn’t even go to your school. You pick yourself off the wall and slowly stride over to the brown-haired figure. You weren’t too sure how you were going to talk to him but the closer you got the more you found yourself wanting to just pull him in. He was possibly the most attractive guy you've ever seen. You take another sip of your drink, almost spilling it on yourself when someone suddenly bumps into you. “Oh shit!-- My bad I didn't see you there!” a random boy with a backward hat cackles as he pats your shoulder, passing through without a second thought. You simply smile awkwardly and nod as you watch him stride to the person you were just about to approach. You stood a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt their conversation and hoping this guy would leave so you could possibly make your move. He hands his friend the rolled-up blunt that was in his hand. “Here you go Taehyun. I’m heading out now– you comin’ or nah?” He tilts his head, a cheeky grin spread across his face.  Ah, so the guy you were trying to approach was named Taehyun. “Nah I’m gonna stay a little longer, I’ll see you later though man.” Taehyun fist-bumps the other male. You internally sigh in relief as you watch him walk away, your eyes looking back to Taehyun as he takes a long drag. You feel yourself shudder in anticipation. “Hey there.”

You freeze and realize Taehyun has caught you staring. Well, now you definitely have to talk to him.

“Hey.” Hey? Hey? Was that really all you could say? “Find something you like?” Taehyun cocks an eyebrow, eyes scanning the way your outfit shows just enough to leave the right amount to his imagination. You weren’t sure if your body was heating up from his intense gaze or the amount of alcohol that was in your system. “Is there an issue with that?” You sweetly respond. You were really throwing your cards onto the table, weren’t you? “Someone’s bold.” Taehyun chuckles as he takes a step closer to you. Eyelids heavy as he keeps sharp eye contact. Had you not been so far gone you would have crumbled under his gaze. “What's your name?” Taehyun leans in, talking loudly over the music. It was his attempt to hear you better but it was all it took for you to look up at him with a face fully flushed. He smirked at the sight knowing it wasn’t just the alcohol doing this to you. “Y/n, I see you smoke.” You aim your head towards the blunt in his hand and Taehyun swirls it between his fingers in front of his lips. “Taehyun, and yeah, you smoke?” You shook your head, you’ve had a few drags before but drinking was more your thing so you were pretty inexperienced. “Wanna try it?” He says as he slowly lifts the blunt to your lips. You shrug and before you can lean in he pulls it away and puts it right to his mouth. Taehyun inhales and blows the smoke in your face and chuckles. You pout at the sudden teasing. You really just want to wipe that cocky attitude right off his face. So you lean in and kiss him. Taehyun stands still in shock, hands hovering above your waist unsure of what to do. You pull away with a confident smile and the look on your face ignites something inside him. He stares at you tongue in cheek, oh you were bold. Taehyun suddenly grabs you by the waist and pulls you in with one swift move. You gasp and his lips are crashing back onto yours. He bites your lip harshly and you groan, the second your lips part open his tongue is exploring inside. You tasted like sweet alcohol and his breath was warm, absolutely reeking of weed. All you could do was let Taehyun ravage your lips as the buzz took over. Your body felt like it was in flames from the way his hands roamed your waist, with your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. Closer. You wanted more than anything to just feel closer to him. You tug at his hair and Taehyun groans. “Gonna make me do something I might regret if you keep doin’ that” he mumbles against your lips and you take it as a challenge. You pull away and Taehyun looks absolutely fucked. Pupils deep and dilated as he stares at you with full intensity. Those eyes were so captivating and your breath hitches at how attractive he looks right now. “More..” You whispered, but the music blasting around drowned out your hoarse voice. Taehyun is able to read your lips regardless and the second he’s able to hand his blunt to the nearest person he’s grabbing you by the wrist to whisk you away. Both your cups left long forgotten as soon as you place them on the ground. Both of you soon find yourselves making out in the hallway as you weren’t even able to fully go up the stairs without your hands exploring Taehyun like he was artwork. It was driving him to the brink of insanity. Both your senses were heightened to the point that any slight touch caused either of you to shiver. The way Taehyun kissed you had your head in the clouds, he was far from gentle, nipping at your lips and harsh hands gripping your body. All you could do was let him. His mouth finds itself on your neck and you sigh softly as the both of you fumble into the nearest bedroom.

Taehyun pushes you against the door as soon as it closes behind you to cover your delicate skin in pretty purple markings. It was all becoming a blur, his heavy hands taking off your clothes, your tongue moving against his, the booming music fading the longer you were with him, skin and skin grazing, the room heating up further with the smell of weed and sweat. All you knew was that in the end, you and Taehyun were going to get a lot closer than you had intended.

[beevean]

Similarities between Symphony of the Night and Harmony of Dissonance

The protagonist is a pretty boy with long, fair hair and flowing clothes. (while Juste is far from being the only "Alucard 2.0", he was the first one: Nathan's design was more unique)

The plot revolves around a good person mysteriously turning evil and the Lord of a Castle resurrected too early.

An important plot twist is that there are two castles, a normal one and a twisted, demonic one.

You get the good ending if you fight the rival while wearing a specific item.

You reach the true final boss if you collect all of Dracula's Relics, scattered through the castle(s). As a bonus, they each give you stats boosts or immunity to ailments.

The save rooms have the same ichosaedron.

The warp rooms have the same keyhole design...

... actually, there are only two of these portals in HoD. The real warp rooms in HoD are designed after the portal from which Doppelganger 10 arrives, and it even has the same long animation (to switch between castles: thankfully it's much shorter to warp within the castle).

The Entrances look the same, complete with a forest outside and an alcove of treasures at the very beginning. Future games will make sure to design different Entrances every time.

There is a Marble Gallery/Corridor that splits the castle in two horizontally.

There are long vertical shafts, complete with similarly-designed elevators, to connect top and bottom areas.

The very lower portion of the castle is associated with skulls and bones. It's also where Legion is fought, in a room made of skulls.

There are watery, blueish caves, half man-made and half-natural.

The protagonist can't cross water. (makes sense for Alucard, being a dhampir, but not so much for Juste. Also, Alucard finds a relic to allow him to cross water, but Juste has to drain it.)

You fight Death in those caves, the second version you explore. After AoS, he will be associated with clock towers.

There is a blueish chapel, whose most iconic features are the sky with scrolling clouds and the long staircases, that leads to the Castle Keep: plot-relevant elements are given here (Silver Ring, Maxim's Bracelet). Also, while recycled enemies are common in this series, SoTN and HoD are the only games with Balloon Pods specifically in the chapel.

The Castle Keep is a fake climax, but still plot-relevant. While Castle Keeps all have a similar design, ever since the first game (SoTN added a clock tower that was kept in all subsequent games), it has a secret treasure room on top in both SoTN and HoD.

The Castle has a center where the ending takes place. It opens only after plot-relevant objects have been collected, you use an elevator to reach it, it has a cube-ish design with hieroglyphs, and the true final boss is only fought in the second castle.

Some sections of the castle are completely optional. While future games will have optional bosses or unlockable harder sections, SoTN and HoD allow you to simply not explore the entirety of the castles unless you're going for completion. There is no need to even step foot into zones like the Reverse Colusseum or the Aqueduct of Dragons B, for example.

The protagonist has his own fairy, although she has very different functions in the two games. (Hector, who is Alucard 3.0, will join them later on)

The protagonist learns to high jump with a similar command: Up, Down, Jump.

More than any other game in the series (with perhaps the inclusion of LoI), the soundtracks for SoTN and HoD have an uniquely creepy direction. Compare the likes of Doorway to Heaven, Departed Way, or Cursed Sanctuary, to Luminous Caverns, Maxim's theme, or Epilogue 1.

SoTN was meant to give Alucard his personal room. This concept was finalized in HoD.

Both games reward your exploration skills by giving the protagonist a gf lol.

[split-spectrum]

Water and Rock

Chapter 8

Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: explicit content, slow burn, smut, dubcon, angst

Description: There are only so many excuses a master and padawan can make to kiss under "extenuating circumstances" before circumstances stop arising and start being created. You are an expert at your craft - a Jedi knight in service as a spy for the Republic. When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

☆☆☆

When the holomessage flickers off, the spell over you is broken. You finish taking off your coat and immediately start keying in codes on the holoreceiver. After minutes of waiting, the image of Mace Windu appears before you.

"Master Windu," you greet. "I'm glad to see you are well."

He nods respectfully. "And you, Commander. I trust you've received the Council's message?"

"I have. I thought perhaps we could discuss it further."

"Of course. What further discussion is needed?"

"To be honest, Master, I feel there are many other Jedi who would be able to complete this mission with more success than me."

You shift your gaze uneasily, but bring it back to meet his eyes quickly. "Is my presence on this mission... absolutely necessary?"

His tone remains even, although there's a little more authority in his voice. "We don't have 'many other Jedi' available at the moment. We are spread more thinly every day the war goes on. If we did not require your presence, we would not have asked for it."

You nod. "I understand."

You hesitate, not wanting to push the issue further, but not wanting to end the conversation until you've tried all options. "But at the present time, I'm... not entirely sure I'm ready to return to full duty."

He's silent for a moment, eyebrow slightly raised. "Might I remind you, Commander, that you are currently on full duty? Your assignment was changed, but your efforts are of no less value on Ilum."

You silently curse the lack of tact in your wording. Being away from Coruscant for so long as made you forget how easily your words can be twisted. You bow your head in acknowledgement.

"Yes, of course."

He regards you for a moment before speaking again. "If you are refusing the orders, you may say so. You will be relieved of duty."

It isn't a threat. Like everything Master Windu says, it's a clear statement of truth without hidden meaning. He is simply reminding you of the options available. You can report for duty, or you can admit that despite your year of light service to focus inward and reconnect with the force, you still aren't ready to face combat again, and you can leave the Jedi Order.

"That is not my intent," you assure him. "I will accept the orders and report. I simply wanted to ensure that... I had a full understanding of the circumstances."

His face remains neutral. "Then, unless there's anything else, Commander, good luck on your mission. May the force be with you."

You nod respectfully. "And with you, Master."

The hologram flickers out, and you stare at the empty space. Perhaps if you'd had a few more months to find balance... even a few weeks to prepare for this mission...

But no. You shake the thoughts from your head. It would have made no difference. This is the most dedicated you have ever been in your training, and you are the strongest you've ever felt in the force. Yet, for all the time you'd spent in meditation, you're still unbalanced, and you know that no amount of time would have been enough to bring you back to center.

When you'd first arrived for your new assignment, you'd spent a great deal of your time expressly trying not to reach out in the force. It went against everything you'd been taught by all of your masters, but in your experience, there had been many times you'd needed to trust in the force, and a few times you'd needed to trust in yourself. You knew your thoughts were in turmoil and your emotions were not in your control. To connect with the force in such a state, you knew, would be a mistake.

So you focused on your daily tasks, using the dull repetition of cycling screens as a form of meditation, and the arduous perimeter checks around the temple as a method of clearing your mind. Although your days were long and tiresome, you were grateful for the blank feeling it afforded you. It was better than the alternative, which was what you exerperienced each night before sleep. Sometimes, all too often, during sleep.

The screams you'd heard, each guard pleading for their life before a vicious silence permeated the air, sometimes preceeded with the grinding of bones or the thick pop of dislocating joints...

The hallway filled with bodies in poses crawling away from their attacker, some with faces darkened by lack of blood flow, some missing multiple appendages - not just the hands that had held their weapons, but their arms, and their legs...

He would have done it on the way back... He would have disarmed them already. They weren't a threat by the time he'd retrieved your sabers. He would have killed them on his way down the hallway, back to you, as they lay there...

The most disturbing part of all of it, though, was the feeling, deep within you, of pure contentment. It had stroked a part of your mind that you hadn't known existed. It was so pleasing to you, knowing that he was out of control. It soothed you. He was safe.

In every battle you'd fought by his side, you'd tried to let go of your fear of death. In many of your missions, you'd left people alive who easily could have killed you in return. This was part of the path you chose to walk - to fight with the knowledge that taking an enemy's life wasn't the goal. You fought to protect others, not yourselves. If you could manage to leave an enemy alive, but disarmed, it was always attempted.

But sometimes, enemies didn't stay disarmed once defeated. Sometimes it managed to create a bigger threat. These were the choices you lived with, in order to protect the sanctity of all life. But for one shining moment, you had felt the weight of those choices lift from your shoulders.

When you had watched Obi Wan remove the shackles of compassion, mercy, and restraint, you'd felt a relief like nothing you'd ever experienced before. It was intoxicating, to a level that terrified you.

Because of this, you had spent many months on Ilum without allowing yourself to even attempt a connection with the force. The feeling was still too near, the power too overwhelming. But as time passed and you felt more like yourself each day, you eventually began short meditations with all of your mental barriers firmly in place. Over the weeks which turned into months, you managed to restore your connection, grow in it, and surpass your previous experiences.

But even now, with your strength returned to you, as you contemplate the mission ahead, you can feel the imbalance within yourself. Your desire to do good in the universe will always be tinged with the knowledge of what it felt like to let go of your obligations and use your power to protect what you want to protect.

As you board your ship and make the short journey to the rendezvous point with the Republic cruiser, nervous thoughts of your potential shortcomings are slowly replaced with nervous thoughts of another sort.

It's been over a year, and you haven't spoken.

You went to your frozen outpost with every intention to write after a few weeks, as you always did. Even in the midst of countless assignments, you'd always made time to leave an occasional friendly message to one another. You'd kept ties with all your previous masters - some more closely than others. But Obi Wan was your true Master, and you never went more than a couple of months without at least a simple "Hope all is well" message or a quick chat over the holonet to discuss your latest mission reports.

He'd stopped calling after six months, evidently taking the hint that you hadn't been trying to send. You'd played the few short messages he'd left repeatedly just to hear his voice, hanging on his every word. But you couldn't bear to respond; to pretend as if you were okay. You didn't want to lie to him. It was easier to ignore him.

Now, as you dock with the cruiser and make your way onboard, you have no idea what you can say to him. Perhaps, you think optimistically, you won't need to say much. After all, you're here to do a job. You were ordered to report to him as your commanding officer. You didn't receive your orders together, meaning it's likely a solo mission he'll be sending you on.

You turn down a hallway approaching the main bridge and let out a long-held breath, trying to calm yourself. As you sink into the force to steady your nerves, you sense him. You knew you would, but you aren't prepared for the way you feel when his familiar aura makes gentle contact with the edge of your own. Now he knows you're here, too.

His presence grows stronger as you get closer to the ship's center, and you pass a door marked as the general's personal quarters. Your gait slows just a little as you consider knocking. But you hardly miss a step, reminding yourself you have orders to report to the captain. You convince yourself this is the reason you keep walking, and not because you're too afraid to stop.

As you approach the bridge, the scene around you gets markedly busier. The ship's crew is hard at work monitoring status reports and managing the daily operation of the cruiser, and as you step onto the main bridge, you're careful to keep out of the way. A couple of clones you recognize greet you in passing and you give a friendly nod in return. When you reach the captain, he's engaged in a conversation with another clone with whom you're familiar.

"Captain Shrike," you greet, a genuine smile on your face. You've completed a few missions together, and it puts you slightly more at ease to see him.

The clone captain gives you a warm grin, his stance softening slightly to a more open posture as he turns toward you. "Commander! It's been a while. Looking forward to another easy one?"

You laugh, and he introduces you to the captain, the three of you making polite conversation until the topic of the mission is brought up. The captain, whose last name you've now learned is Pais, tells you they plan to discuss it momentarily.

"We were awaiting your arrival so that the General- ah, there he is now." He looks behind you. "General Kenobi wanted to brief everyone at once."

You turn and follow the captain's line of sight to the person who's just entered the room, and there he is.

His beard is neatly trimmed, his hair perfectly finger-combed back from his bright eyes. He's clad in his familiar white armor, likely having returned from battle recently, but looking none worse for the wear. His gaze is as piercing as ever.

"Commander," he acknowledges you with a muted smile. "Welcome aboard. It's good to see you."

"Thank you, General." You say nothing more, unable to return his warm greeting without it sounding forced.

With his usual amount of grace, he continues on to the task at hand, dropping eye contact with you too quickly for anyone to notice your stiff moment of pause. He circles around to the other side of the holoprojector table at the center of the bridge and keys in coordinates to bring up a softly glowing map. The scale model is instantly recognizable to you as a nearby listening post - one which you've personally spent several rotations mapping.

The lights on the bridge automatically darken to allow for better viewing, and the captain joins you at the table along with the clone captain and several of the higher ranking bridge officers. Obi Wan folds his arms behind his back and begins the brief.

"This is a Separatist listening post, located on the lesser moon of Asar-2. We have reason to believe that a Republic vessel traveling in this area had communications intercepted and possibly decoded, revealing our plan of attack on a Separatist blockade in the Gaulus sector. A plan which is set to go into effect in less than fourty standard hours."

He pauses briefly, glancing around the room. "These battle plans are our best chance of breaching the blockade and successfully bringing humanitarian aid to the people of Aaloth. If we were to call off the attack, we may not have another opportunity. However, if the Separatists are already aware of the offensive fleet's coordinates, they will be flying directly into a trap. It is our mission to prevent this by infiltrating the listening station and accessing their transmission logs. We must confirm whether the Separatists were able to decode whatever information they may have gathered, and relay our findings before the planned attack."

He turns to the clone captain beside him. "Captain Shrike, you and I will be approaching from the west, here."

He taps a spot on the map to zoom in. "Their security forces are concentrated at this entrance, and their numbers are limited. To make it to the turbolift on the first floor and reach the comms center, we need only bypass the main guard unit. We will be disguised as Separatist soldiers."

He lifts his eyes to yours, tapping the map again to zoom out and show a path leading to the main entrance. "Commander, that is where you come in. We will need your skills to convince the guards that we have the appropriate security clearances. I presume if you are within this area, it would be close enough to get the job done?"

You follow his motion as he gestures to a wide expanse of land along the path. You open your mouth hesitantly. "It... would."

He nods. "Very well-"

"If I may," you interrupt before the subject can move on. "...sir," you add hastily.

His posture tightens just slightly at the interjection. "Go ahead, Commander."

You reach out and use your fingers to widen the angle of the holographic model. Then you turn it, inspecting it carefully, first on one side, then the other. "When was the layout of this station last updated?"

"The latest recon available was from sixteen months ago. Why?"

Your head shoots upward from the table. "Sixteen months? I submitted several updated reports on this post just a few weeks ago. These details are completely wrong."

His brow furrows and an air of uncertainty falls over the rest of the briefing attendees.

"What do you mean, 'completely wrong'?"

You give a small shake of your head in disbelief. "They've made considerable increases in security since this. For one thing, there's no 'main guard'. Security forces are spread throughout the many additional levels which aren't shown on this map. And the rest of those levels are filled with soldiers, not automated. Aside from that, they have a failsafe for their security system - rayshielded entrances that lock into place when activated from a remote base of operations which is in orbit. Intruders can't shut down the security from the ground; it's a two-part countermeasure."

Silence falls over the briefing group, and Obi Wan brings his arms out from behind his back, folding them over his chest and bringing a hand up to stroke his chin. After a moment of contemplation, he looks back at you.

"How certain are you of these changes?"

"I've done multiple inspections and received reliable information from inside their supply lines. I sent all the details in my reports."

"Then why did we not receive them?" he asks plainly. The question isn't directed at you; more rhetorical, or open for discussion.

You shake your head again. "I sent them directly to the chancellor's office, as instructed."

His hand drops from his chin. "The chancellor's office?"

You tilt your head just slightly, giving him a careful look at his surprised response. "I received orders several months ago that all reports in this sector were to be submitted through encrypted channels to the office of the chancellor, for more direct communication."

When he continues staring at you, you add, "The orders came from the Council."

His frown deepens. "I remember no such order."

"Regardless of the reason," Captain Pais observes delicately, "It appears we are missing crucial intelligence. How do you suggest we proceed?"

"I have the updated reports in my personal logs. We may be able to come up with something if we reevaluate."

Obi Wan doesn't give another moment's hesitation at your offer. "We have very little time as it is. Please, get them. I'll come with you."

Turning back to the group around the table, he adds, "You are dismissed, for now," and then follows as you leave the room.

Your pace is quick and a little nervous as he falls into step beside you, his footsteps as confident as ever. You glance over at him. "I have to say, I'm a little confused."

"Confused?"

"When I arrived, I wondered why you'd requested me for this mission. Then I saw the location, and I assumed my knowledge of the outpost would be helpful. Now it turns out that you never even received my reports."

You shake your head a bit. "If you'll forgive my asking, why me? Any Jedi would be capable of accessing a station like the basic one you thought this was."

He's quiet for a beat. "It wasn't my request. The Council assigned you here."

You reach the hatch to your ship and open it, turning your face away from him to hide how foolish you feel for asking. "Ah."

"I believe they had good reason. These listening posts are known to destroy all records as soon as any breach is detected. Normal attack or infiltration wouldn't be an adequate plan. Your skills were -are needed to ensure we retrieve the data with as little chance of detection as possible. If we're discovered before we reach it, all will be lost."

"I see," you answer, logging into your personal records and pulling up your reports. "That explains it."

He looks at you for a moment, then continues, "I did mean what I said on the bridge, you know."

Your eyes flicker from the screen over to him and you look at him questioningly.

"I may not have asked you here, but it is good to see you."

The heat in your cheeks intensifies and you turn back to the screen, retrieving the report and sending it to him.

"It's... good to see you, too."

He gives you an amiable look, if not quite a smile, then pulls it up on the datapad in his hand and walks a few paces away.

As he reads through the material, you're left without much to do. You're already intimately familiar with the information, but you pass your eyes over the screen in front of you to skim the material anyway, and when you finish, your eyes slowly drift back to him.

He's concentrating deeply on the datapad, eyes focused and darting quickly over words and diagrams. Without your permission, your gaze falls down the profile of his face, fixating on the rigidness of his jaw, the whispers of grey at his temple now spreading into more noticeable patches, the once warm tan at his neck, now turned to a deep and lasting bronze. You let yourself stare for just a moment longer, trailing over his shoulders and falling down to where the armor defines the cut at his waist. The way he's holding himself is the same as always, and yet something is different.

When he'd kept his hair long, when you'd been his Padawan, he'd had such strength and tenacity, his chest full and upright, his shoulders broad and stiff, his back creating a hard, straight line. All of those things are the same now, but there's something else. The war seems to have softened and hardened him all at once. His posture is more self-assured than ever, and yet it lacks the bravado of his youth. It's melted into true confidence, a commanding air of expertise about him, exuded with every movement.

It had been true the last time you'd seen him, but a year later, it's more evident than ever before - he had been a warrior. Now, he's a general.

You're about to pull your gaze back to the screen when he slowly takes a few steps while reading and settles himself into a chair. Your ship is a small transport vessel, so there's not much space, and the seat is small. It's surrounded by a ledge, and he leans back in the chair to hold the datapad in front of himself with one hand, letting his other arm stretch over the ledge behind him.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him spreading out, and though you know there's nothing inherently sexual about it - he's probably more comfortable sitting this way in full armor - you can't stop staring. You fixate on the way he's holding the datapad in his lap. You imagine the way he held your head in his hands...

He's looking at you. Your eyes snap up. You flick your gaze back down to the datapad and then meet his eyes again. "Do you have any questions so far?" Your voice comes out higher than usual, and you try to play it off as casual lightness.

He blinks, seeming deep in thought. "No. It's quite comprehensive, thank you. I just wondered if there might be something here."

He stands and brings the datapad over to you, zooming in on a small access panel on the eastern side of the station.

"It's underwater so it isn't monitored by these security checks you've indicated. The only problem is that it is covered by the electromagnetic barrier that surrounds the entire outpost. We could access it, but not using technology. Not even rebreathers."

You try to ignore the way your chest flutters when he leans into you so you can both see the datapad clearly, and you think for a moment, despite the fact that he smells so good.

"I might have a solution. Storne. He's amphibious."

"Your friend from Bespin?" he clarifies, and you nod in return.

"If we make the payment worth his while, I'm sure he could be here within a matter of hours."

He regards you carefully, then looks back at the image of the outpost as if reconsidering all the options. After a long pause, he lowers the pad. "Very well; contact him. It may be our best chance."

You nod again, turning back to the main screen to send him a message. When you finish, Obi Wan is still dragging his fingers down either side of his beard, deep in thought.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea?" you offer. You don't have much on board besides tea and a few ration packs, while the main ship will have plenty more options for food and drink, but you still feel you should say something to break the silence.

He glances over at you as if he'd forgotten he was in the room. "Tea... yes, thank you."

You switch on the kettle while he seats himself again, and while the water quickly comes to a boil, you speak over your shoulder.

"I do have one other suggestion."

"I'm open to anything."

"I should be the one going inside the station, not Shrike. It'll be more effective for me to actively participate than to stay outside and work through the force. If I can use my eyes and ears to evaluate as we go, it will be easier to prevent any mistakes."

You turn to look at him as you add the tea leaves to the boiling kettle. His expression is hesitant.

"I would consider that risk to be greater than the reward."

"In what way?" you ask, frowning.

"There is a high likelihood that this will end in a fight for escape. With the level of security and the numbers of the enemy, our only goal is to make it inside without issue. Getting out is another matter. You would be of better use outside the line of fire."

Your hands still on the handle of the kettle. You place it back down on the counter without pouring. "I've always been useful enough in combat before."

"And you are certain that you still are?"

Your breath halts. His words sting. But you reach out calmly and pour the tea anyway, not wanting to show any sign of emotional response.

"I may have taken some time away, but I'm still capable of handling myself."

You turn and bring both of your cups with you, handing one over to him.

"Thank you," he says, then places the cup on a shelf beside him as he continues looking at you.

"Commander, you may feel that you are prepared, but I... have doubts."

He says it slowly and softly, but the message is no less painful. You meet his eyes.

"I don't believe that you're more qualified to evaluate my own abilities than I am." Your face flushes hot when the words leave you, and you quickly add, "...sir."

He doesn't rise to your bait. He just looks at you with the same compassion he's always shown you. "It is my duty to evaluate the abilities of all those under my command, as well as my own."

The silence stretches between you, your embarrassment at arguing with your general only compounded by his grace in response. He looks to the side, as if gathering his words, and then looks back at you again.

"You are unbalanced."

He says it simply, not accusing or disappointed. You can't meet his eyes.

"I can still perform my duties," you say, seeing no point in trying to deny it.

"Perhaps I can help."

You shake your head. "There's nothing you can do for me."

"I have my doubts," he retorts, his unfailing confidence in his own abilities as frustrating as it is consoling.

"I am lost," you admit. "But I know I can only find the path I need on my own."

He raises his brows gently. "How can you be so sure?"

You let out a deep sigh, then take a sip of your tea while he watches you. Finally, you take a seat across from him, and you answer.

"Master," you start, allowing yourself to slip back into familiar terms and knowing he'll allow you to do so. "When you connect with the force, what do you feel?"

He pauses to consider before giving his response. "I feel warmth and comfort, as if I am grounded in something permanent and unchanging. I feel surrounded and filled with a presence of peace and certainty."

You nod slowly. "I also feel a sense of warmth and comfort. But when I reach out to the force, it doesn't feel unchanging or steady to me. It's like immersing myself in a flood. I'm filled with the purpose of the universe and I feel the current of every living being around me."

He nods along with you, encouraging you to go on.

"...but there's nothing to hold onto. When I was younger, it was hard for me to surrender to the force because it felt so much like losing myself. You showed me how to find myself within the force, and everything changed. It was wonderful."

You take another breath before continuing. "Until... until what happened on Oba Diah showed me the consequences of losing myself entirely."

He's quiet for a long time. "And... you feel that you can no longer trust in the force because of this?"

You bite your lip. "I've never felt I could trust in the force enough to give myself over completely to its will. Something has always held me back. Maybe I've always been unbalanced, to some degree."

He sighs softly. "I have told you for many years, young one, the force is balance. You must not hold back from it. You will find your balance if you release yourself to its will."

You swallow. Some part of you knows he'll never be able to understand that it's because he is balanced that he believes the force is in perfect balance as well. He can find himself in it so easily.

"I understand, Master. And I will try. But, I must trust in myself as well. In my own judgement."

He looks at you uncertainly. Then he stands. "How long before Storne will arrive?"

You glance over at the comms screen, standing up to go over and check the pending response. After you read it, you report, "Eleven hours."

"Plenty of time for meditation. Would you like to join me?"

You sigh internally, appreciating the gesture but wishing you could explain to him the certainty you feel that it will make no difference.

"Of course."

You close the main hatch of the ship for privacy, then sit next to him on the floor, folding your legs to mirror his posture. His eyes are already closed, and you close yours as well.

"Quiet your thoughts. Let them pass. Listen only to the force."

His words are familiar. It's a mantra he's used with you for countless sessions. You sink into the sound of his voice and try to obey.

Minutes pass as you settle into your own mind, lowering your barriers and reaching out into the ether. The force answers your beckon, enveloping you as always - predictably, comfortingly. As more time passes, you let the soft hum of your own aura open itself to the force's stronger current, releasing yourself to its embrace. You repeat Obi Wan's words in your mind, listening only to the force.

"You have grown strong, my Padawan," his voice echoes richly in your mind, padded with the energy of the force when he speaks.

Your face remains neutral as you answer him with your eyes still closed, although his choice to use your old title makes your heartbeat quicken. "I've had plenty of time for meditation and practice."

You feel his aura at the edge of your own, starting to nudge for your acceptance. You let him in gratefully, welcoming his steadying presence. It's been so many years since you've felt it. It nearly overwhelms you.

You take in a deep breath, leveling out your breathing, reminding yourself to keep your focus on the force.

"And yet your faith is lessened. You have said you trust in your own abilities, as I trust in my own. Use that trust. Reach into the force, and let go."

Your pulse picks up even more. His presence is surrounding you, asking to give yourself over. You remain steadfast within yourself. "I... know what will happen."

"You are afraid."

"Yes."

His voice somehow soothes you and fills you with apprehension at the same time. "Fear is not real. Only the force is real."

"My fear is based in reality. How can I ignore it?" Your eyes are still closed but your brows are pushing together, almost in a frown.

"We all experience fears. But they are not a part of you. You can separate yourself from those thoughts."

You're quiet again for a long stretch of time. It could be minutes, or it could be hours. Your only concentration is on doing as he's instructed. But no matter how you reach into the force to take your fears from you, they stay. He speaks again softly when he feels you struggling.

"You're holding on."

"I'm not trying to," you say back, a little too quickly.

"Yes, you are."

He says it with perfect clarity. He's not disparaging or chiding you. He's simply pointing out the truth. But it gets to you. It evokes a reaction, finally, because you know that it's true.

You feel your presence in the force become uneven, wavering and malformed. "You don't understand. I know you're trying to help, but you can't understand."

"Then help me to understand," he responds, his tone still firm and neutral, as if he hasn't noticed your change in demeanor.

You fight for a moment longer, and then you give in. "I am... not the Jedi I was before. Or maybe I never was the Jedi I should be. I feel... things I shouldn't feel. And I can't set them aside. Not like you."

You feel him pulling away from you, almost imperceptibly. "It is not that I set my feelings aside. I surrender them to the will of the force. The burden can only be lifted when you stop trying to carry it."

You squeeze your eyes more tightly shut. "I am trying, Master, but you don't know the burden I carry."

This time, you really feel it when he pulls away. "That is not true."

"I..." you flounder, surprised at his reaction. "I didn't mean that you don't have your own burdens. But yours are not like mine."

He takes in a long, slow breath and releases it. "I know what you carry."

His aura dims a little, almost flickering like a candle.

"I live with the knowledge each day that I took unnecessary lives. Undefended lives. I remember the fear in their eyes as I..." he breaks off, swallowing. "I remember all of it."

You continue to sit in silence, each of you reflecting. When his presence beside you becomes steady again, he goes on.

"And the other mistakes I made... The thoughts and actions of that night will be with me for the rest of my life."

Your stomach tightens, the blood in your face heating. "I... can't forget, either."

"We don't need to. We only need to rely on the strength of the force."

"And..." your throat goes dry. "What if these thoughts have... continued?"

Your connection slips apart for a moment, and he doesn't answer. His presence his hazy, hard to read. You regret your words immensely, until he speaks again.

"I've already told you, you don't carry your burden alone."

You're about to ask what he means when his aura surrounds you again. This time, though, it's like nothing you've ever felt from him. It is heavy, sweet and carnal. The thoughts within him are so clear, the images so bright. He's only allowing you to see a small part of himself, but that part is howling.

You feel yourself immediately getting wet, watching the memory of him brushing a thumb over your nipple while he kisses your neck, thrusting into you from behind. His moan fills your ears, although there's no sound in the room. You feel the heat of his mouth on your neck, a phantom touch that sends shivers over your entire body. You're drawn in, almost reaching for more of the feeling, but it's buried within an endless stream of filthy vision after filthy vision, and you can only see the very top of the collection.

It's like looking into one of your own dreams.

As quickly as he opened it, he severs the connection and you blink your eyes open, finding yourself staring into his. You're almost panting from the whiplash. He clears his throat, appearing completely unaffected.

"I have struggled. I will continue to struggle. But I will continue to seek guidance in the force. As should you. It is not an easy path, as you have said. But it is not one that you walk alone."

Your mind is spinning. Your heart is racing. Your eyes are fixated on his mouth as he speaks, and for all the wrong reasons.

Then he releases another long breath and settles back, closing his eyes to return to his meditation.

"So, shall we begin again?"

--

Tag List: @cosmicsierra @projectdreamwalker @guacam011y @thriving-n-jiving @reverieisaway

Please feel free to comment or message me directly if you'd like to be added to my taglist. :)

Masterlist // Next Chapter >>

[arminsfavoritepookie]

SOLITUDE by @arminsfavoritepookie

Pairing: MIKASA X FEM READER (modern au pt.2)

Summary: In which you start an illicit sexually forbidden relationship with your boyfriend's best friend

Contains: Cheating, WLW smut, toxic relationships, cursing, smoking, alcoholism, forced proximity, jealously, public sex, secret relationship, choking, sexual tension, idk gay shit, etc Plot is nonexistent it's just smut... SMUT WARNIN

“Who's callin you, pretty?❞

Mikasa couldn't contain her amusement when she saw the guilty look on your face, hinting at your phone. As she felt the tension that slowly rose between the two of you, she sensed your hesitation to reveal the source of your distress.   Her curiosity was only amplified when you shifted in place, eyes reflecting your anxiousness.

Your soft features that longed for a kiss had been transformed into a storm of emotions you would much rather keep to yourself.  Mikasa had known that Armin was the one calling you—although he had only requested for her to check up on you and keep you company. she felt that you provided her a chance to stay distracted from the darker parts of her thoughts and an opportunity to just relax.

She knew it was not right to flirt with you like this. Yet if you knew the extent of your Armin's infidelity, you'd understand why.

Late-night calls and whispered secrets.

You didn't have a clue about his unbecoming intimacy. How it stirred Mikasa's frustration, especially as you lay alone in your apartment, aching for a resolution Armin can never bring. Though it may not be apparent, Mikasa is utterly devoted to you. The urge to provide you with the kind of love and attention that your partner was unable to gave her no other option. Yes, playing with you like this may be inappropriate, but her concern and affections are sincere.

Mikasa wants you to be taken care of—wants to fulfill the sickest parts of you.

Your lips curled into a sneer as irritation and anger filled your gaze. You couldn't believe she had the audacity to act like nothing was wrong and you couldn't help but ask her what she found so funny. But, she simply shook her head, wearing a smug smirk on her face and ignoring your question. If that wasn't bad enough, your phone suddenly buzzed with a notification from Armin, just making your bad mood even worse.

Mikasa nibbled her full lips while staring at you, and your thoughts drifted to the things she could accomplish with a simple flick of the tongue, how that simple ball of sliver feel against your clit. ❝You really want to know what's funny, pretty?❞ her lips contorting into a knowing smile as you tore your gaze away from her mouth.

She began to draw closer to you, her eyes challenging you to push her away as she placed her fingertip on your lower lip.❝You acting like I don't see you clenching your thighs every time I touch you, every time I look at you.❞

❝Acting like you some devoted girlfriend to Min when in reality you just wanna be my fucking slut❞, she began to brush her calloused thumb on your lower lip while her other hand crept up beneath your shirt and lightly touched your nipples. You swallowed the lump in your throat and breathed heavily against the pad of her thumb.

  

❝Acting like I won't fuck you right now on this couch, wrap my hands around your pretty little throat, and have you screaming my name while you beg me to leave, that's what the fuck is funny, pretty.❞

"Don't say shit like that," you muttered, feeling breathless and unbalanced. You tightly closed your eyes, trying to control the sensations racing through your body. The only sound in the room was your cell phone, the shrill noise making your pulse quicken. The thought of Mikasa fucking you with Armin listening filled you with an intense longing that you could hardly stand.

❝You think I care that he's calling you? You think that will stop me from getting what I really want?❞ Her voice was seductive and enthralling with a secret passion waiting to be unleashed. The depths of her speech, swimming in unheard secrets and confessions, created a mesmerizing sensation in you, wanting nothing more than to be taken away by her touch.

Your brain runs wild when she says all the steamy, delicious things you never dared dream about. Something about this illicit relationship fills a part of you that's been begging for some desire and attention. The forbidden side of it adds a spark of intensity that you can't quite explain but never want to forget.

"Go ahead and do it," you sneered in a low murmur, trying to disguise the urgent yearning evident in your gaze. Every cell in your body was desperate for her touch — for her kisses and caresses — to ease the deep ache of your craving.

Mikasa's thumb glided across your chin, and with a sweet smile she grabbed it, forcing you to gaze into her inky eyes. "If I did all the things I wanted to do , I don't think you would be able to take it, pretty❞

"I'll take it, I'll take whatever you offer me" You exhaled in a rush of air, feeling the thrills as bite marks began to bloom on your neck. Her palms are clasped over both of your breasts, twisting your soft flesh between her fingers through the thin fabric of your bra.

❝I'd break you, pretty❞

"So break me,"

Armin had never touched you in this manner; always preoccupied with work, he had never cared about your pleasure, leaving you and your vibrator once again intertwined.

Maybe that's why you felt so ashamed: Your clit is begging to be caressed, your lips are puffy from lack of attention, and you've started to tremble and writhe from sexual frustration. Mikasa was kneeling between your thighs, but she didn't touch you; instead, her passionate eyes gazed up at you in sympathy from where she was positioned.

Your panties were slid to the side, Mikasa watched intently as you nipped your swollen lips between your teeth. She discovered pussy juice that had collected in a sticky puddle on the couch—-dripping lewdly in between the plush of your thighs.

❝Nasty dirty girl drenched for me, hmm?❞ She was taunting you, lulling you into oblivion, and hypnotizing you into a hitherto unexplored world of bliss as she placed gentle, delicate kisses on the inside of your flesh.

"Stop with this teasing shit," you muttered, your voice trembling with desperation and fear at the mere notion of what she might do to you. ❝You giving orders now, pretty?❞ she taunted as she began to play with your pussy.

❝You think you're in control?❞

She just laughed at you and you were just a dripping mess, and it became much worse when she collected your arousal on her fingertip and rubbed the liquid into your pulsating folds.

Mikasa was plunging her long fingers inside you and she adored watching your expressions. Her gaze was magnetized by the delicate twitch of your lips in delight, and the way your eyes moved ever so slowly in appreciation. As she watched you , her heart felt a pleasant tingle of admiration. The contours of your face contorted into something indescribably beautiful and the energy between the two of you was almost electric.

As she listens to you muttering her name in a soft, soothing whisper, she's irresistibly drawn to the idea of breaking you down until there's nothing left. And then putting you back together again, slowly, meticulously, just so she can break you apart once more. She craves the challenge of your unpredictable and intriguing character, and this tantalizing prospect has become her deepest fantasy.

❝You're gonna start listening to me, yea?❞

She bit your tender, needy marked flesh and ran her fingertips through your wet folds as she licked and sucked the insides of your thighs. ❝Say you'll listen for me, baby.❞

You stuttered, "Fuck I swear I'll listen," your fingernails dug into the couch's flesh. Her fingers rubbed your cunt more quickly, as if she, too, were becoming increasingly eager and needy.

You whimpered pitifully as she gently blew on your clit and then spat on your pussy, the saliva oozing between your folds and mixing with your desire. It was so dirty, yet you couldn't help but take pleasure in these sensations. She was making you feel both humiliated and aroused all at once.  ❝Gonna make you feel good❞ As she slides one finger into your moist cunt and plays your clit with her thumb, you tremble deliciously. ❝You want me to make you feel good don't you, pretty?❞

An embarrassing pool of need surges, coating her finger with your juices. She presses harder into your walls, smearing the slickness from your cunt to your pulsating clit. ❝Answer me,❞ she urges with frigid laughter, increasing the pressure until you begin to tremble.

"Yes, please, please- please make me feel good," she hums in content at your pathetic whining as she continues to stare at your entrance, which is plugged and stuffed with her fingers.

You are completely defenseless: pinned down, thighs open, and your pussy is slack and sore from her aggressive treatment.You feel her fingers twisting inside of you, thrashing inside of you, and stretching you, the insides of your thighs adorned with red and purple bruises—your eyes pricked with fat, bitter tears that are on the verge of erupting.

❝Squeezing around me so fucking good, pretty❞ You felt the twist in your stomach and let out a deep sigh of agony. "This feels too good, I can't..." you murmured. She began licking your pussy while fucking you savagely with her fingers. The feeling of her cool silver ball of metal placed on the middle of her tongue flicking your clit nearly drove you insane.

❝Not yet, pretty, don't cum yet❞

Your legs nearly closed due to the overwhelming pleasure, but she forcibly opened them. Mikasa was relentless as she devoured you, lapping, biting, and drinking you to destruction. You were incapable of thinking about anything other than Mikasa's mouth on your hungry cunt.

"Please Mikasa, I need more give me more"   She stared into you eyes with an intense heat and energy, making you tremble beneath her gaze. ❝I know what you need, love,❞ she said, her voice soft yet resolute. ❝But you'll take what I give you.❞ Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes twinkled with flecks of gray, her determination and power so intense you could feel it radiating off of her. ❝Do you even know what you're doing to me?❞

The pointy nails of her fingers graze your skin as she wriggles her tongue between your creases before sucking your clit between her lips, her tongue crushing your sensory receptors as she drags you to the edge. ❝Driving me fucking insane, pretty❞ She exerts marginally more effort and seizes your attention. She suckles and slurps, grossly and shamelessly.

You curse, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," as you look at the woman between your legs. Her face is more hostile and hungry than you've ever seen it before. You're disoriented and totally devoid, she was scissoring her fingers and cramming them to the knuckles with a squelch.

❝Easy, baby, go ahead and cum❞ Slicked with need and admiration, it was almost impossible to ignore the rapid pulsing of your heart with her every word. And that was when you came, emitting a quiet but desperate cry as your eyes shuttered closed in the intense intensity of your bliss.

Mikasa pulled away from your embrace and you were immediately plunged into confusion and fatigue. As your strength began to fade, she scooped you up into her arms and cradled you to your bedroom. You fought to stay awake, not wanting to let the blissful moment slip away too soon. When you were placed gently on your bed, the coldness of the sheets lured you into a deep slumber.

❝I fucked you right to sleep, pretty,❞she said in your ear, allowing you to try and rest.   "You can stay" you replied with a weak voice as you fought to stay awake; Mikasa brushed your hair back, her dark eyes watching you.

She wanted something that she knew she could never have. You were her best friend's girl and far too good for her, but that never stopped her from over indulging tonight. That was the thing, she wanted you too much.   It made her feel guilty in the worst of ways, as if her heart was dragged down by an invisible weight.

But Mikasa realizes something for sure; Armin does not love and cherish you as much as you deserve. He never took care of you in the right way, or made you feel truly special in bed. When she saw you, overwhelmed and hopeless, an unstoppable thought crept into her head; she surely couldn't love and take care of you as much as you deserve either.

[cherryapplejuice]

you make me nervous

larissa weems x reader

content: soft, fluff, mutual sapphic yearning

warnings: none

It all started with such a small gesture. You were spending your lunch break at the Weathervane, writing your lesson plan in preparation for next month because, let’s face it, you never allow yourself a real break. Your soy vanilla latte was now merely beige bubbles scattered at the bottom of your empty mug and the steady sound of the milk steaming contraption behind the counter had become an oddly relaxing form of white noise as your pen scribbled in your notebook.

A small ringing sound pierced through the emptiness of the room and you turned instinctively to see none other than Larissa Weems coming in for her usual cappuccino. You flashed her a smile that beamed embarrassingly beyond what you had intended and she offered back a familiar grin and nod in response. You felt a nauseating tightness in your abdomen not too dissimilar to the usual feeling you got when you analysed your every move around Larissa, praying that one day you would somehow find the ability to act cool around her, or at the very least, like a normal human being. You buried your head back into your work in effort to concentrate and block yourself from drowning in the sweet way Larissa stepped towards the counter and spoke with that soft, polite hushed tone that always tore you up from the inside out. Your efforts to muster up new ideas about which classical and romantic period musicians to base your next music theory module on - while you felt Larissa’s eyes burning into your head for a brief moment - became obsolete.

“Small cappuccino.” The boy behind the counter smiled as he placed it before her.

“Thank you.” Larissa beamed, and you wanted to curse her for how sick her sweet voice made you feel. “Mind if I join you?”

You were so used to not wanting to assume anyone would choose your company over solitude, or the company of someone much more enjoyable, that you instinctively waited a few seconds before looking up at her. She was talking to you.

“Oh, of course.” You babbled, scrambling to tidy the mess of paper and books scattered messily across the table to make room before gesturing enthusiastically toward the empty seat across from you. “Go ahead!”

“What are you working on?” Larissa questioned inquisitively. You admired how gifted she was at making everyone she spoke to feel genuinely important and interesting, even if you did still question whether or not she was simply being polite and just making conversation because she felt she had to.

“Oh, uh, this? I’m just trying to decide on a composer to use as inspiration when we move back onto theory with my 10th graders. Theory’s the boring part that everybody hates and they spend the whole time wishing they could just go back to messing with actual instruments so…” You paused for a moment, panicking suddenly that you may be rambling on and boring the poor woman to death. “Yeah. That’s about it.”

You held eye contact with the words on the pages below you rather than with Larissa; after all, ink on paper couldn’t make you flustered so it seemed like the safer option. As the seconds passed, you only wished more and more that the ground would swallow you up. The caffeine may not have been a wise idea when you know you’re prone to becoming this nervous, and you made a mental note to try decaf next time.

“Go with Tchaikovsky.” Larissa broke the silence and you looked up to meet her eyes. “He’s my favourite.”

You shared a smile, a feeling of warmth and genuine comfort finally radiating toward you and settling your jitters as you held each other’s gaze. She wasn’t bothered by your rambling at all. She could tell you were taken aback by her showing interest in what you had to say and, although you weren’t to know, it made her a little sad.

“Tchaikovsky. Tchaikovsky.” You spoke aloud in affirmation to yourself, mostly, the second repetition more sure and certain and the relief in your voice was audible. Larissa shot you a soft grin before reaching down to wrap her fingers around the mug before her and bringing it up to her lips, enjoying the comfortable silence as you flipped to the index of your textbook and flicked your way through to find the pages you needed. You finally had a strange but welcome sense of comfort sitting in your stomach. In all honestly, it could be a little embarrassing how you transformed with the smallest amount of reassurance but you will always take it, you thought to yourself.

You looked up to meet Larissa’s gaze once again. Cobalt glittered from her eyes and the bright porcelain of her skin laid perfectly over her face. Your eyes fell to her lips; the only spot of out place was a small patch of white foam that had found its way from her mug to the perfect soft red pigment applied over them as she had sipped.

“What?” Larissa asked, concerned, as you stared at that one spot on her upper lip. A sheepish smile crept over your face and you were unsure if you were feeling embarrassment or simply sheer adoration for the sudden realisation that Larissa was, too, a real human who is susceptible to the small mishaps that make people just that little bit more endearing. You giggled slightly.

“You, uh. You just…” You paused before shuffling forward and rising from your chair, clearly feeling emboldened and finding your new ability to lean over the table to reach forward, slowly letting your thumb find its way to Larissa’s intimidatingly perfect features, and swiping gently across her lip to remove the foam, leaving her makeup untarnished and a dizzying feeling of yearning in the pit of your stomach. Time had stopped for the both of you. The contact between your skin lingered for perhaps a few seconds too long and the tension behind the eye contact you held, now from a much closer proximity, was incredibly palpable. It was just you two. It didn’t matter that you were out in public, surrounded by clattering and the words of others around you because everything was a blur except for that perfect face in front of you. You watched as the skin on her throat dipped with a sudden gulp before her lips parted to catch her breath. Was she blushing?

But you had no idea that Larissa’s world had just come tumbling down around her, the rubble and debris of all professionalism and decorum she had once prided herself on now gathered at her feet and emitting dust that clouded her thoughts. It had all started with such a small gesture. The feeling of your skin against her lip, the way your eyes had expertly examined her to clean her up efficiently, the slight furrow of your brow in concentration in the half second before your eyes came up again to meet hers - it was all too much. Her world had become brighter, the beige and graphite hues that once surrounded her now bursts of rich sienna and greens that lit the path in front of her. She was suddenly crucially aware of the warmth she felt radiating from the beams of light that surrounded you. A halo.

She had fallen in love.

[xjulixred45x]

Satoru Gojo/Suguru Geto x Reader with a Twin

I'm back with everything in JJK and I have a twin myself, plus I rarely see this kind of stage, so, I'm going to make my own material, like in the old days.

I hope you like it Euge!

Reader: Male and Female

Genre: Headcanons

Warnings: Set mainly in the Hidden Inventory arc, Season 2 spoilers, maybe divergent canon? (mainly Geto's part), Gojo. Fluff.

Satoru Gojo

If Gojo's S/o had a Twin, there are two ways he would meet her/him.

1-she/he also go to the Jujustu academy and are in the same class (most likely) or 2-their s/o's twin goes to another school and therefore they do not know each other until said twin are going to visit them.

Let's go with the first option first.

Seeing how his S/O is with his/her twin, at first he made fun of them a little, simply because it was too sweet for him how they got along so well.

If said S/o is constantly protected by his/her twin, it is even worse, but Gojo understand it better, and find some peace of mind in seeing that his (future) S/o will always have someone to defend and protect her/him and keep safe and sound.

Gojo wouldn't have so many problems differentiating his s/o from his/her twin, thanks to the 6 eyes. But when he don't use them, he definitely have his confusions.

He has even put papers on the backs of his S/o and his/her twin that say "prettiest twin" and on the twin "random twin"

If he have a bad relationship with his s/o's twin, he would do the same, but putting "good twin" and "evil twin" respectively.

Although you would also do that if his S/o's personality is very far from her/his Twin.

In case Gojo wouldn't meet his S/o's Twin until they dated, he would definitely be very surprised when he met him/her.

If his S/o has any kind of complex related to comparing himself/herself to his brother/her sister, either saying that they are better or putting themselves down, Gojo is going to shut them up, he can't stand that shit, and will probably start saying all the things in the that his S/o is better than her/his twin.

If Gojo and his s/o's twin get along REALLY badly, chances are they'll just put up with each other for the s/o's happiness, Gojo can't compete with a womb mate and he KNOWS IT, so he will not initiate anything against the twin (besides, even if the S/o is protected by his/her twin, he/she is just as protective over him/her).

If they get along well, they tell each other things to make their partner happy, anecdotes from childhood, certain habits that they only do at home, etc. If the twin is especially chaotic, Gojo just got a new friend, and if he is an introvert, too! Adopted a new friend xd.

In general, Gojo only takes advantage of the Twin/Twin factor for pranks and/or having an extra best friend to protect his S/o

Suguru Geto

Following the same thread as Gojo, Geto would probably meet both his S/o and his twin.

While he has a clear preference for spending time with his S/o, he sees nothing wrong with inviting his/her twin too, especially when he sees how they go everywhere together, how close they are, it's a unique type of bond that is worth to watch.

Similarly to Gojo, Geto feels more comfortable with his S/o's twin if he/she is the "protective twin" of the two, or if he/she excels more in the use of cursed energy than his s/o. It's not because he wants his S/o to be weak! Simply an extra companion with another being of abilities never hurts.

And neither does he reject the twin if it is his S/o who has to protect them, on the contrary, he may become protective of him/her, since although they are two very different people, his/her twin S/o is still a part of him/her

Unlike Gojo, Geto has more trouble telling the twins apart at first, especially with the uniforms on (matching), so at first he kept mixing names.

But eventually he was able to differentiate them better through certain characteristics that stood out more in each one (e.g., accessories, hair, way of speaking, etc.)

If his S/o and her/his twin wear completely different styles, then Geto has much less difficulty figuring out which is which (e.g., one wears red and one wears blue).

I don't think he would do the notepad thing, although if he did he would definitely call his s/o "the best twin" or "cutest twin" just to make him/her blush.

If the S/o has a complex about comparing himself/herself to his brother/her sister or saying that he/she is better, Geto will try to first see why they think that way or who put that idea in their head. Then he will try to make him/her see that his/her twin may be better at several things but that he/she may be better than him/her at many others, a pretty nice moment.

If Geto has a bad relationship with his S/O's twin, then they make a "cold war" pact, that is, they hate each other in silence, and without violence in front of their brother/sister to give the illusion of that get along well. But as soon as the s/o looks away, they are both giving each other DEATH looks.

If he gets along with his S/o's twin, then it's all peace and love when they go to his/her house, even (similar to Gojo) telling all the embarrassing stories about his brother/her sister to Geto as if It was the most adorable thing in the world.

Twin: and then she/he went to mom angry and said: "I'm leaving the house"! The most CUTE thing I have ever seen in my life.

S/o: BROTHER/SISTER NOOOOOOOOO-

Geto:**listen to every damn word**

BONUSES

If his S/o joins him in his corruption Arc, he will definitely let s/o raise the twins the way the S/o and his twin were raised, he wants the girls to have a relationship as cute as the one of those two.

If Geto is not corrupted (like those Geto Professor AUs), the twins will most likely LOVE S/o and his/her twin, each one goes with one and they spend a "twin afternoon" with the four of them together, mainly shopping, they come home, they fall asleep on the nearest couch or surface and when Geto arrives, he dies of tenderness.

In general, Geto can see his S/o's twin as both a great friend or his worst enemy. I hope it's the first.

Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome!

[water9826]

Cursed Guardians (A JJK Fic)

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Some say that leaving is harder than staying. 

Getou Suguru thought that was a complete pile of shit. 

Ever since he became a jujutsu sorcerer, Getou has been wanting to run away and never come back. However, he had stayed because he felt some sense of duty to protect innocents from horrific curses. In all honesty, Getou didn’t really care about saving people, but he had no other options besides joining Jujutsu High. To make things worse, his parents would not allow him to even consider a career that was not in sorcery. It was practically a universal rule that anyone with a cursed technique must become a jujutsu sorcerer. A job that only leads to early deaths. A job to protect weak monkeys that are not even grateful for being saved. 

The hatred he held for non-sorcerers had always been there from the start. It simply hadn’t been as noticeable. When he was little, he had felt such envy for children that were only expected to run and play. For Getou, he had to learn how to consume curses without throwing up while other kids his age got to eat as many sweets as they wanted. He was forced to consume the most revolting thing on the planet because it was his duty . It was for the ‘greater good’ as he would be the one to save countless lives. Even as a child, Suguru felt no responsibility to save those weaker than him. He only agreed to do so because he thought there were no other things he was allowed to do. The disdain within his very soul grew vaster by the day as he observed how abominable the ‘innocent’ really were. One memory that stood out to Getou, even now, was when he had helped an old man cross the street. The man was cranky and rude, whacking his eleven-year-old self with his wooden cane repeatedly, and yelling at him to ‘hurry the fuck up’ since cars were beginning to honk at him. Although, it was the old geezer who walked like a broken wind-up toy, not Suguru. After what felt like years, he and the man finally made it to the other side of the street. The old trash bag wrenched his arm from Getou’s gentle hold and walked away, not a single ounce of gratitude given. 

He remembered how angry he had felt with the old man’s ungratefulness. All that he could think of when he got back home was how he should have let the man get run over by speeding cars. In fact, he had pictured himself pushing the man into oncoming traffic, causing him to laugh so loudly that his father had yelled at him to be quiet. 

After a few years of becoming a proper sorcerer, humanity had yet to impress him. When he left for Tokyo, Getou kept telling himself that he had to save the weak and that Jujutsu High would show him why non-sorcerers are worth saving. 

Suguru never got that answer. 

During his time as a jujutsu sorcerer, Getou was the one that was kind and patient to all. He had to remind his fellow first-years that they were here to save people. Shoko was uninterested in everything while Gojo saw himself as above everything. Now, as a third-year, Shoko had stopped being so uncaring, but Getou still had to lecture Gojo on the value of the lives of non-sorcerers. All of his lectures to the other teen were nothing but lies. Getou had simply spat out the constant nonsense his parents would teach him about helping the weak and being a ‘hero’. Useless drivel that Suguru never believed in. He could not figure out why he had been so insistent on reminding the infinity-user of why he had to put the lives of the weak before his own. 

His short time with Riko and the traumatic encounter with Zenin Toji had been Getou’s breaking point. A young girl was killed because she had been randomly chosen as the new Star Plasma Vessel, a role Riko admitted she hated. She had cried about wanting to live a normal life again, but her life was snuffed out by Toji. The man that still haunted Getou’s dreams. He will never forget the sheer horror he felt when the man stabbed an already exhausted Gojo, who was vulnerable from not sleeping for days, the moment he released his Infinity. Before Getou could retaliate, Gojo insisted that he take Riko to Tengen’s abode and that he would be alright even as blood poured out of his wounds. Getou had listened to his stupid friend, only to have Toji shoot Riko and brag about killing Gojo. The rage that overcame him was indescribable, but it was no use against the sheer might of Toji. When Yaga found him and had Shoko heal his wounds, Getou could only think of Gojo, someone who Getou was dangerously attached to, and how he must have died scared and alone. 

Only Gojo didn’t die. When Getou had seen his friend carrying the corpse of the young girl they had both grown fond of, something changed between the both of them. The concern Getou had towards Gojo’s poorly healed wounds was overshadowed by the unease he felt when he saw the void of emptiness that had appeared in Gojo’s eyes. While they were as stunning as always, they carried a hollowness to them. Gojo, who did not know what an inside voice is, softly murmured to Getou about how he could kill everyone in the room and not feel a single thing towards it. His voice was cold and lifeless. It disturbed Getou, but the second his words settled in Suguru’s mind was the moment his distaste for non-sorcerers grew into pure hatred. 

There were people in the room, quite a lot, and Suguru had not noticed them. Each person was adorned with white attire and had a bright smile across all their faces. They even had the audacity to start fucking clapping at the death of an innocent girl. They cheered and praised them, their applause growing deafeningly loud. However, any words those monkeys had to say meant nothing to Getou nor Gojo. Internally, Suguru was screaming at himself to let Gojo kill these worthless lives. Instead, Getou told Gojo not to kill them because a jujutsu sorcerer needed a reason to end someone’s life. Bullshit. 

He would regret that decision for the rest of his days… 

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring

Banana phone!

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring

Banana phone!

I've got this feeling, so appealing-

An annoying song suddenly blasted through Suguru’s room. Instantly, the teen knew who was calling him. Gojo had stolen Getou’s phone one night and put embarrassing ringtones on each of his contacts. The one currently making Getou’s ears bleed was the song Gojo had given Nanami, which was a stark contrast to the younger’s quiet nature. However, his annoyance at Gojo and the noise vanished when the implications of Nanami calling hit him like a truck.

Nanami never called anyone unless it was for something important. Even those calls were few and far between. What disturbed Getou even more was the time Nanami had called. It was three in the morning. The underclassman refused to interact with anyone after a certain time, and three hours past midnight was definitely not in the blonde’s time slot for socialization. Once again, another realization came to Suguru, Nanami had been sent on a mission with Gojo to fight a possible special grade curse. The decision was idiotic, but Yaga had stated that the higher-ups demanded that all new sorcerers get as much field experience as possible. It was a horrendous decision and was out of Yaga’s hands, but the principal had made Gojo swear to protect Nanami at all costs and to retreat the second Nanami’s life was in danger. It was one of the rare moments Gojo was serious, firmly assuring their principal that he would make sure to look after the underclassman. 

Had something gone wrong?

The possibility seemed so outlandish that Getou nearly laughed, but his unease only grew. With a heaving breath, he picked up his phone and answered. “Hel-”

“GETOU-SAN! WE NEED YOUR HELP! THE SPECIAL GRADE IS…THE SPECIAL GRADES ARE TOO POWERFUL FOR US TO HANDLE! GOJO-SAN IS REALLY HURT! GET AS MANY REINFORCEMENTS AS YOU CAN! PLEASE, GETOU-SAN! WE NEED-”

Before Nanami could finish, the call ended abruptly with an unholy screech in the background. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“ FUCK !” Getou pulled on the long strands of his hair, tossing his phone to the ground. Why did the universe hate him so much?! He had been ready to defect from the jujutsu world forever and carry out the plans he had been creating for the past few months. What little belongings he had were packed up. Suguru had been in the middle of checking his more crucial supplies as he would likely be without housing for an indeterminate amount of time. While he did get lost in his thoughts as he packed, Suguru had made the decision to leave long ago. 

He was supposed to leave in the next hour. If he ignored Nanami’s terrified pleas, Suguru would make it to his train on time. Getou would leave everyone and everything behind to finally have his plans to rid the world of non-sorcerers become a reality. His classmates would be fine. Nanami was probably exaggerating since it was his first encounter with a special grade. He did not know that Gojo would always come out on top.

But Nanami sounded so scared…

Getou shook his head harshly, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. Nothing would make him stay in this horrible school any longer. Nanami would be fine. Gojo was with him. He would be more than safe with the strongest sorcerer. 

Nanami said Gojo was hurt-

“NO. STOP IT. SHUT UP!” Getou snarled to himself and banged his fists against his skull. There was no need to get involved. He was leaving. NOTHING would make him stay. Suguru had enough of being a jujutsu sorcerer. He’d never be one again!

Nanami said special grades. There was more than one. 

“HE’LL BE FINE! SHUT UP!” Suguru closed his eyes as he reprimanded himself again. He was LEAVING for fuck’s sake! This is what he had been preparing for for months!

The screech that he heard before the call ended was utterly demonic. 

“I. AM. LEAVING.” Getou was sure he woke someone else up with his yelling. In his current state, the teen could care less. 

Nanami reached out to him first, not Yaga or the higher ups. Him. 

“STOP IT!”

Nanami didn’t deserve to die.

“STOP!”

 He picked up his phone, preparing himself to throw it against the wall or have one of  his curses eat it. Before Getou could even move, his phone started blaring a familiar tune. 

EL PANADERO CON EL PAN!

*HONK HONK*

EL PANADERO CON EL PAN!

*HONK HONK*

That was Gojo’s ringtone. 

Getou’s eyes opened wide in shock. He still held his phone in a vice grip, ready to shatter it against the wall. His arm began to tremble violently, and he could feel his eyes burn. If he answered it, Suguru would miss his train out of Tokyo. If he answered it, Getou might not ever gather enough courage to leave again. All he had to do was click a fucking button, and he’d never have to think about Jujutsu High again. Never again.  

The song continued. The song that he and Satoru sang whenever they finished a particularly exhausting mission. It was a random song they had found one day, and it was a song they would both sing to annoy Shoko or Utahime. Getou had never laughed so hard when Satoru started singing it when Yaga brought a sandwich to class one time.

EL PANADE-

Fuck it. With no further hesitation, Suguru clicked the answer button and pressed the phone against his ear tightly. “Satoru?”

“SUGURU! THANK GOD! WE NEED YOUR HELP!” Gojo’s panicked voice made a pit form inside Getou’s stomach. Throughout all their time together, Suguru never heard Gojo’s voice sound so terrified . He was the strongest. Nothing should be capable of scaring him. 

Right?

“What? What happened?!” Dread made its way into Getou’s voice. 

“The special grade w-we were sent to exorcize…It’s not normal, Suguru! There are several of them, and I can’t hold them back anymore! I don’t think my Infinity can hold out any longer! One of them is so close to getting through! I…I CAN’T BEAT THEM, SUGURU! I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH!” 

“Sato-”

“PLEASE. I KNOW Y-YOU’RE NOT FEELING GREAT, BUT I NEED YOU HERE! NANAMI IS GOING TO FUCKING DIE BECAUSE OF ME! LISTEN, W-WE’RE AT AN ABANDONED WAREHOUSE IN SENDAI! Y-YOU’LL KNOW IT WHEN YOU SEE IT! JUST HURRY–FUCK! ONE OF THEM IS GETTING THROUGH! PLEASE HURRY-”

That same demonic screech was heard before the call ended. Getou looked at his phone in horror. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer in the world, was terrified and begging for help with curses that should be a breeze for him to deal with

For the past several weeks, Gojo and Getou had been given their own special missions as Gojo had gotten so powerful that he could handle any grade curse on his own. They had been separated. It used to be that Gojo and Getou were the strongest when they were together. Not just Gojo. 

And he was showing more fear than Suguru had ever seen in the normally unshakeable teen. 

“Dammit, Satoru!” Getou breathed deeply to calm the whirlwind within his mind. His plans would have to wait. After this, he was leaving and never coming back. No more delays.

With a quick text to Shoko, telling her to alert everyone about the emergency occurring in Sendai and that Gojo and Nanami are in critical danger. He immediately got a response, but he didn’t bother to read it. He tied his hair back and began running through the halls. Once he felt the cold night air against his skin and the scent of dew-covered grass, Getou summoned a curse he had purposely absorbed due to its ability to go at supersonic speeds. It took days to catch, but he eventually succeeded. He had planned to use this curse to take him to the train station across town, but the world hated him. The large, spiked curse waited obediently for its order, sharp teeth drooling and blue fur raised in agitation. Suguru petted its snout and mounted onto the creature's back. 

“Go. Go to Sendai.” Suguru commanded firmly. He did not need to speak verbally for the curse to know what he wanted, but he still tended to say his orders out loud. 

Instantly, the curse shot off into the sky. It could levitate, which made Getou arrive at his destination even faster. His grasp on the curse’s coarse fur was so tight his knuckles turned white. The speed of the curse made harsh winds cut into Getou’s skin. He could barely breathe, but he refused to stop now that he had gone this far. The closer he got, the worse the unease in his gut became. When Gojo had said he would know it when he sees it, he had thought he would need to look for a while to find the vague location Gojo had given him. However, the Infinity user’s words held truth to them. Cursed energy that Getou had never sensed before washed over him, feeling like he had been doused in ice cold water. 

Due to his cursed technique, Getou knew things about curses that would make the most seasoned of sorcerers break. When he absorbed a curse, knowledge of the curse’s previous atrocities and perverted thoughts flooded into Suguru’s mind. He would see the curse’s memories and feel its feelings as if it were his own. Over the years, Getou had figured out which curses would be the grossest to ingest and how to prepare his mind from the onslaught of evil the absorbed curse would wrought. 

The cursed energy Getou sensed caused every alarm in his head to start blaring. A mantra of WRONG WRONG WRONG flooded his very being. To call it cursed energy would be a blatant lie. Getou knew the ins and outs of cursed energy more than anybody else. Whatever he was sensing wasn’t supposed to exist. 

His curse stopped at the broken doors of the warehouse. Suguru dismissed it, only for his body to freeze at the entrance. The sounds of battle could be heard clearly, he even heard Satoru’s labored breathing and Nanami’s pained grunts. They needed help, and they had both called Suguru for his aid over anyone else. Despite knowing this, Getou’s body refused to move. Besides the sounds of his classmates’ exhaustion, what had caused the teen to become paralyzed was the screech he had heard at the end of both calls. Immediately, he knew that this creature was the cause of the feeling of wrongness. 

It’s just a special grade. It’s probably making me hallucinate these strange energy signs. Suguru used rationale to calm his beating heart and frantic mind. Every instinct he had was warning him to not enter, but he was already used to ignoring them. As he reached for the handle of the broken door, an explosion brought the entire warehouse down. He used a curse with several shells on its back to shield himself from the flying debris. 

When the smoke cleared, Getou was met face to face with what he could only describe as demonic.

“SUGURU! MOVE!” A bloodied Gojo pushed him out the way before the entity could blast him with a beam of purple energy. Familiar purple energy. Getou’s body had frozen again as the abomination started screeching again. Before it could lay a clawed hand on either of them, Gojo’s Infinity flickered to life. It was the weakest Getou had ever seen it. Gojo was trembling like a leaf in a storm to maintain his greatest defense. His friend’s enchanting eyes locked onto his, fear staining the mosaic of blue within. “My Infinity is gonna break any second, so I’m really fucking glad you’re here. Listen. Big birdie over there? Looks like he has my technique and his is stronger than mine ever was! And one of his friends snatched Nanamin! Which is really really bad!”

Before Getou could start asking an onslaught of questions, the entity broke through Gojo’s barrier like it was as easy as going through air . Gojo grabbed Getou’s hand, dragging them away from the rampaging beast. They , the supposed strongest , were hiding behind a thick tree that had not been damaged by the blast. Due to Gojo’s superhuman speed, they had put a sizable gap between themselves and the creatures. With the distance, Getou got a better look at the entity and the other entities behind it. 

They truly were beings that had spawned right from Hell.

In the center of the ruins of the warehouse stood a group of six nightmarish abominations. Two of them were underneath a large tree, both surrounding an object of some sort protectively. The one that was curled around what looked like a bundle on closer inspection was using its body as a shield. It took on a feline-like appearance with dark purple fur and a dark rectangular stripe on its snout. Each paw was covered in a hard coating of crimson with each wicked claw being just as large and sharp as a sickle. Black spikes shot out of its back like a deadly mane, rattling in an intimidation display. However, what made the spikes truly forebody were the many spheres of condensed blood above them, ready to be shot out at a moment’s notice. 

Such a creature to have the Kamo clan’s hereditary technique was mind boggling to Getou, but he could not afford to ponder on such things. His attention was on the bundle the feline was… protecting. Every curse he encountered had never missed the opportunity to attack. While special grades were more unpredictable and intelligent, they were still just as or even more aggressive as weaker curses. These things were in a formation . If the demonic cat wanted to kill them, it would have already shot out the beams from the heavily condensed blood. Instead, it did nothing, not even growling. In fact, the cat was emitting a rumbling purr that could be heard from all sides as it nuzzled the bundle it was wrapped around repeatedly, its attention completely on whatever was inside. An impossibly tiny hand reached from the bundle to touch the feline’s nose before said feline nudged the tiny appendage back into the bundle. When it was seemingly satisfied, the creature snapped its head towards Getou. The hatred and resentment in its dark eyes could not be mistaken for anything else. Somehow, this feline entity that he had never seen before was glaring at him as if he was the most detestable person in existence. It was not the stare of an aggressive entity, this hatred the cat-demon held for him seemed personal. 

What the hell were these things?!

Seemingly done with his staring, the creature closest to the feline used its large body to shield the cat and bundle from Getou’s view. Now knowing that an infant was inside, the behavior of these entities made more sense, yet it confused the dark-haired teen at the same time. The aggression being caused by protective instincts was easy to acknowledge, but the thing causing said protective instincts to emerge was too strange to accept. Curses killed humans. Yet these creatures were doing anything but. The canine-like entity that was now preventing Getou from observing the baby and demonic cat any longer was glaring at him as well. To say it was large was an understatement, the beast rivaled a full grown bear in size. It had a heavy coat of light brown fur with black swirls throughout that resembled the stamens of a flower. Additionally, it had a necklace with a rectangular pendant and a white sash wrapped around its back. The accessories were strange, but Getou found himself paling when he saw the beast’s face. Its eyes were boring into his with a calculating look. As if sensing his unease, the monster bared each of its sharp fangs, releasing a rumble that could be felt within the very ground. A skull of an animal Getou did not recognize adorned the beast like a helmet. The skull covered the beast’s large snout up to the top of its head, and it had two massive tusks jutting from the upper jaw with the lower jaw being bisected. Giant fangs protruded from the demon’s real jaws. A red-tinted liquid drooled from the thing’s mouth, burning the ground once contact was made. It was clear that this muscled sharp-toothed beast was the bruiser of the group. One of the last lines of defense if anyone got too close to the bundle. 

From what Getou could gather, the entities were in a formation that would prioritize the infant’s safety over anything else. The fact that no attacks came from the group of monsters, proved his theory. None of them wanted to stray far from the tiny being they were guarding. Gojo seemed to notice the pause in attacks as well, the white-haired boy using the time to try healing himself. However, the Infinity user was struggling to cease his shaking hands and heaving chest. His eyes were open wide, the terror inside them had yet to fade. 

Getou placed a hand on the trembling teen’s shoulder. His soft touch made Gojo flinch violently, something that the affectionate teen never did. This encounter was making Getou see too many ‘firsts’ for Gojo. He did not like it in the slightest. “Satoru. It’s okay. I think I figured out a way for us to win.”

No response. 

Truly disturbed now, Suguru hid Gojo and himself further behind the tree. Their bodies were now completely hidden from the front. With no reaction from the beasts, Getou quickly pushed Gojo into a sitting position and began to examine him. There must be something happening to make Gojo so exhausted and so shaken . Gojo had been working constantly on improving his technique and to have it just break was startling. The first thing he did was check Gojo’s cursed energy levels. If Gojo was truly exhausted and at his limit, his amount of cursed energy would be incredibly low. If his levels were the same, then something was affecting Gojo’s mind instead of his body. 

Suguru placed a hand on Gojo’s chest, he closed his eyes and looked for the blinding sun that was Gojo Satoru’s cursed energy. What he found made him wrench his hand as if it was burned.

There was not a single change in Satoru’s energy levels. 

While it was in Gojo’s nature to prank Getou, he knew that the wounds on Satoru and his fear induced state were not faked. Furthermore, Gojo would never endanger Nanami and scare the younger to this extent for a joke.

It seemed like one of the creatures had caused powerful hallucinations for Satoru, somehow getting through his Infinity technique. Getou had a feeling he already knew the source of Gojo and Nanami’s terror. The entity with the hellish screech had caused Getou to become paralyzed in fright. Looking back at Gojo, he remembered the teen’s earlier words.

Big birdie over there? Looks like he has my technique and his is stronger than mine ever was!

The special grade w-we were sent to exorcize…It’s not normal, Suguru!

I CAN’T BEAT THEM, SUGURU!

I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH!

No other curse had been able to break Gojo in such a way. The expressive teen did not let anything or anyone get under his skin. Even the incident with Toji and Riko hadn’t broken his friend this much. He had used the trauma and grief from the aforementioned incident as motivation to grow stronger. Satoru was not the person to become catatonic in the face of danger. Gojo was the type of person to flirt with or make fun of the deadliest of special grades and laugh at their reactions once they realized they were no match for the strongest. 

The closest Getou got to seeing Satoru shut down like this was when one of the elders from the Gojo clan came to visit Jujutsu High. It was for a ‘performance check’ on the young first-year sorcerer. Yaga had announced it during breakfast with a sympathetic glance towards Gojo before leaving as quickly as he came. Gojo nodded and had gone quiet for once and left the table, his food untouched. Shoko and Getou wasted no time in running after him, which was difficult considering Gojo was the fastest being on the planet. They had found him sparring with one of Yaga’s training dolls. The cursed corpses were reinforced with runes and enchanted metals, but they might have been made of paper to Gojo. A sizable army of cursed corpses littered the smoldering ground. In the middle was Gojo, who had not even broken a sweat. The teen had grabbed the next cursed corpse, a giant spiked monster that was several times larger than Gojo, and tackled it to the ground. Satoru started ripping at the fabric of the enchanted cursed corpse, tears of frustration pricking the edges of his eyes. Just as Getou was going to say something, Satoru screamed and tore the plush in half with his hands. He began punching at the cursed corpse, using his cursed energy to burn the doll into ashes. When Gojo had finally realized that he had an audience, he put on his classic annoying grin and made several jokes to make his friends irritated enough to forget what they had seen. 

Later that day, Getou and Shoko would see Gojo be tested in various obstacle courses and battles that the Gojo clan elders hand selected for Satoru. The elder observing it all criticized every little thing Gojo did, shaking his head in disappointment each time. Even though Gojo had won in every tournament and completed each obstacle course in record time, it was somehow not good enough for the Gojo clan. At the end of the day, the elder scowled at a tired Gojo. He crowed about the importance of the image of the Gojo clan and how crucial it was for Gojo to be absolutely perfect so no one would ever consider that Gojo Satoru wasn’t the strongest. Satoru had spat on the floor next to the old geezer’s feet and told the elder to fuck himself with the clipboard he had been using to record his observations.  The elder shook his head again. His next words made Shoko, Getou, and even Yaga want to kill the man as painfully as possible. 

“I feel so sorry for your mother. She did not deserve to die to birth such a useless mongrel like you. Perhaps the regret of having such a disappointment was what truly killed your father and not his illness. This meeting has been quite eye opening. Thank you for reminding us to never expect anything worthwhile from you, boy.”

With that, the rotten old man left. Gojo had been frozen in place until Shoko had placed a hand on his shoulder with Getou holding Satoru’s hand. They led their fellow first-year student into Shoko’s room. As Shoko went to find her secret stash of candy and soda, Getou had placed Gojo onto her plush bed. Before Getou could let go of Gojo’s hand, the white-haired boy held Suguru’s hand with an ironclad grip. Gojo had muttered something that was too quiet for Getou to understand, but it sounded sad enough for him to lay on the bed with Gojo and hug him. Immediately, Gojo latched onto Getou like a koala and cried into his chest with his lip wobbling violently from the sobs Satoru was refusing to release. When Shoko came back with her goodies, she silently joined the two on the bed and rubbed Gojo’s back in soothing motions. When Gojo stopped crying, he went limp in Getou’s hold, but it was clear that the boy did not want to be let go any time soon. Shoko put on one of the trio’s favorite movies on her phone and passed snacks to each of them. Gojo had not eaten for the entire day, so he got the lionshare of the snacks, eating them quietly as the movie started. The trio would eventually fall asleep and would wake up with Yaga telling them to have a day off. While the three had only known each other for about six months, it was the best day of their entire lives. 

It seemed like anything relating to Gojo’s family or his well hidden insecurities got to him the most. Getou let his thoughts mull over in his head before he risked a glance at the demonic entities. 

All except one had moved. The cat-thing still had its Piercing Blood attack ready to fire at a moments notice, but it was currently occupied with soothing the now fussy infant. Getou still had no clue on why such creatures would show such care for a baby. Why were they so protective? Where did they come from? Where did the baby come from? Who are the baby’s parents? Was the baby stolen or is it actually an entity like them?

Too many questions and too little time. Getou glanced at two other entities that he hadn’t noticed yet. One seemed to be made entirely out of black sludge and was vaguely shaped like a human with spiky hair. It leaned down and summoned a pair of green dots as eyes. The baby let out a giggle as the shadow monster shaped its strange eyes into various animals. One moment there was a pair of wolves then another there was an elephant. As the baby shrieked with laughter, the cat was able to bundle the baby up again with its head sticking out this time. The eyes of the shadow blob returned and were squinted in the way a regular person’s eyes are when they’re smiling. A rose then dangled in front of the baby, swaying gently. The rose originated from the other creature next to the shadow entity. It resembled a marionette that had its strings snipped with how its head and arms hung limply. The metal creature was wearing a long, dark blue skirt with a long sleeve button up of the same color. A rose bush grew out of the left side of its featureless face. Where an eye should be, there was a blood red rose in full bloom. Each of the thorns along the bush and vines looked like nails. It was jarring to see the greenery of the plants be intertwined with metal nails. Several vines wrapped around the creature’s left arm, following the vines would lead to the rose it was hanging in front of the baby. The puppet-like creature had no real hands or feet. Each limb ended in a sharp point like, well, a nail. The only soft thing on the creature was its ginger hair which was hung to the side due to the limpness of its neck. A happy coo left the baby as the metal being continued to move the rose in soothing motions. In response, a soft trill left the entity even though it lacked a mouth. 

Eventually, the baby fell asleep with its watchful guardians surrounding it…Or should it be they? Was the baby a human or something else? These creatures were unsettling, yet Getou found himself utterly fascinated by them. They had intelligence and emotions that he had yet to see in a curse. 

Enough intelligence to figure out the only way to make the strongest sorcerer of the modern era turn into a shaking mess. 

“Gojo?” Getou turned back to his friend, who had yet to say a word. He felt relieved once he noticed Satoru’s steady breathing and ceased shaking. Even so, Satoru had yet to acknowledge him. Suguru knelt in front of Gojo and was surprised to see that Gojo’s eyes were as wide as they were before. Has he not blinked? Pushing his shock aside, Getou held Gojo’s head in his hands, staring into his eyes for any answers to what was afflicting Gojo. Satoru’s eyes had always been Getou’s favorite thing to look at. They had a clarity one could only find in the purest of waters. Every shade of blue imaginable seemed to be present in Gojo’s eyes. It reminded Getou of the ocean that Riko and Gojo had been messing around in. The sapphires Mei Mei had shown them when she let them look at her collection of gemstones. The sky he, Gojo, and Shoko would spend hours staring at, trying to find the best shaped cloud. To put it simply, Gojo’s blue eyes were enchanting. 

They weren’t blue anymore. 

“Satoru? Can you hear me?” Getou tried his best to hide the trembling in his voice. The eyes he adored were clouded over, the brilliant blues dulled to a lifeless gray. If it wasn’t for Gojo’s calm breathing and heartbeat, Suguru would have thought his friend had died. He shook all thoughts of death aside to focus on figuring out what was happening to Gojo. As he looked closer, Getou noticed the rapid expanding and shrinking of his pupils. They were pinpricks at one point and completely blown out a second later. Additionally, his eyes were shifting around, likely in an attempt to look in a different direction. The movement was so subtle that Suguru would not have noticed it if he wasn’t so close. This was necessary, so Getou knew better than to start blushing at their proximity. The pink flush on his cheeks proved otherwise . He shook Gojo to try snapping him out of the strange trance he was in. “Gojo! You asked for my help, right? I know how to get us out of here alive. We’ll get Nanami-kun back too.”

“...Nanamin.” Gojo murmured. His pupil became pinpricks for the twentieth time, and the teen began to shake his head repeatedly. “No. Nononono. Stop showing me this…He’s alive…”

“What are you seeing, Satoru?” Getou asked gently. His friend seemed to be breaking out of whatever was plaguing his mind. If he kept prodding, he was sure Gojo would become aware enough to snap out of it.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Can you try describing it?”

“There’s fire…lots of fire…”

“Anything else, Satoru? You’re doing so good so far.”

“A box…A big box…It’s really dark in there…”

“A box? Are you alone in the box?”

“No…Lots of skeletons…”

“Wait-Skeletons?”

“Yeah…They’re all dead…’Cause of me…”

“...Who is dead, Satoru?”

“...Everyone…” 

Any other questions Suguru had were ignored as Satoru returned to his catatonic state. He sighed as he let go of Gojo, helping the teen rest against the tree. The bird-like creature Gojo had mentioned was the most concerning of the entities. If the creature really had Gojo’s technique, then all of Japan would be in danger. It seemed impossible for something to have  Infinity and Six-eyes without garnering the attention of a single jujutsu sorcerer. More so, Japan was still intact. 

Nothing about this situation was right. 

Getou stood, clenching his fists. He looked back at Satoru, trapped within his own mind by a monster neither of them knew how to beat. “I’ll be right back, Satoru. Just stay put, okay?” With that, Getou stepped out of the safety of the tree and placed himself in the direct line of vision of the demonic creatures. 

Immediately, each being snapped their heads toward him and stiffened. The demonic cat used its long bushy tail to cover the bundle completely, wrapping around the infant. On each side was the shadow monster and the metallic entity, acting as a shield for the two behind them. In front of the pair was the canine-like beast he had seen earlier, snarling at Suguru viciously. Next to the beast was a new creature Suguru had not noticed. It resembled a mummy from the spotted fabric covering its body. The black spots on the fabric were shifting around as a sign of irritation. Its entire left side was made of a black metal of sorts, which had cracks throughout. Within the cracks, a fiery substance was contained. The spotted fabrics around its throat were different from the white of the other bandages. One wrapping was yellow with black spots while the other was blue without any designs. A pair of glasses with yellow lenses were set firmly on its face. A sharp cyan light emitted from the left lens. The light was aimed at Suguru and narrowed in a supposed glare. 

“I’m unarmed. I don’t want to fight.” Getou raised his hands in a placating gesture. It was a partial lie, but he was at least telling the truth about not having any physical weapons on him.  He concealed his cursed energy as best as he could in case the entities could detect it. Suguru adorned his gentlest smile and voice. “You have one of my friends in a powerful trance and have taken my other friend. I only want their freedom, nothing else. I will leave once I have my friends back. No harm will come to you or the infant you’re guarding.”

There was a chance that the entities could not understand what he was saying. Three of them didn’t have mouths and the other two were more animalistic in appearance. He kept his hands in the air and stayed still. Any sudden movement could make the creatures view him as a threat. Though, they already looked at Getou with such disdain that he was sure that none of them saw him as something remotely positive. He had yet to see the sixth member of their group, the one he needed to speak with the most. Suguru had remembered counting six shapes before Gojo had dragged him away. He did not get to have a good look at the entity responsible for breaking through Gojo’s Infinity, the familiar purple blast, Gojo’s powerful trance, and the bloodcurdling screeches. It was supposed to be bird-like, and the creatures before Getou did not resemble that description. 

With each second passed, the tension grew more and more. Sweat formed above Getou’s brow. His other classmates were incapacitated, so he would have to face the monsters alone. He pushed down the overwhelming concern he felt for Nanami, who had yet to see. Gojo said one of them had taken him, but Suguru hadn’t heard any sounds of struggle. Nanami was young, but he was extremely durable and never went down without a fight. To hear nothing made a weight sink to the bottom of Getou’s stomach. If these were curses, Nanami would surely be dead. However, these entities were something else entirely, so there was a chance that Nanami was still alive. There was also a chance that something worse had happened to Nanami. The rising stakes worsened the tense atmosphere. 

“ H̷̘̓͆ȩ̵̾͗h̴̻͕͘e̴̗͑̈h̵̨̛̿ͅė̵̮…̶͉͐H̶̗̱̾ǫ̷͠ẃ̶͕ ̸̣̕ȧ̵̖d̷̰̏o̷͉̍r̷̤̖͝à̸̱̙b̶͍͚̀͐l̴͙͒e̸͓̝̒̆ .”

Suguru felt every muscle in his body freeze.

The air suddenly became so cold that Getou could see each of his shaky exhales. A dark fog enveloped the entire area. He knew he needed to protect himself and summon one of his curses if he wanted to live, yet he stayed still. A terror that Getou had never felt before spread throughout each nerve, each cell, each atom of his body. It felt like the doom prey would feel when they accidentally entered the territory of the most powerful predator. They weren't supposed to be there, but they will never get the chance to leave.

He had never felt so powerless.

A clawed hand cupped Getou’s cheek, draining his face of all color at the icy touch. Getou’s knees trembled as he stared into the black abyss in front of him. The hand on his face was pure white like a twisted ivory sculpture. 

“Ş̴̧̾̽ǫ̶̎ ̷̼͋͝s̴͉̑ç̷̘̽̍a̸̪͛̑r̴̛̻͑é̷̬̝d̵̟͕̃̕…̶͕̖͋T̶��̜̽h̸̝͠a̴͍̫͋ť̸ͅ’̷̫̈s̸̺͒ ̵̪͓͋h̶͈͑͆ì̷͔ͅl̴̻̯͛a̷͓̳̓̂r̴͇͠i̵̞͘ö̵̭́̕ṵ̵́s̶͇̅̑!̴̱̪̾”

The voice was incredibly distorted, barely decipherable, and it made Getou forget how to breathe. Its teasing tone was familiar. So familiar. Getou refused to acknowledge the similarities due to the utter wrongness of the voice. 

"Ì̵͔t̷̹̽’̴̬̩̇s̵͎͗͐ ̵̺̝̕r̵͎̞͝u̶̹̳̐d̴̫͚̏ȅ̴̫̝ ̶͔̼̓̈́t̶̨́ͅó̷̜͙ ̸̰͖̃͠ī̵̫g̵̦̅͆ͅn̴͇̂͛o̷͔̿r̶̜̃ḙ̸͋͝ ̶̢̹̂s̷̘̎̿ó̸͈m̷̨̀��e̷̱̿o̴̜͌n̶͔̩͂̂e̶̝̎…̷̟̻̊̊O̸̖̽p̵̞̫̏͘ẻ̶̦̹n̷͔̈ ̷̦͕͌y̶͇͖͛ȯ̸̤͎͐u̷͕̽ȑ̵̡͎ ̸̱́e̴̞̥̒͠ȳ̶͕e̵̢͝ş̸̱̓̈ ̷͈̐͒f̸̟̟̉o̵͎͘ͅr̶̢̈́ ̸̺̓͘ṁ̴̻͝e̸͍̓,̵̹̈̈́ ̴̲̆̊ḧ̶̠̝ṁ̶͎̕?̷̣͆̃”

Despite not noticing when his eyes closed, Getou squeezed his eyes even tighter. The hand was now starting to comb through his hair, releasing the messy bun he had haphazardly made earlier. Its gentle motions only disturbed Suguru further. He wanted to run away. Fuck, he was supposed to be far away from Tokyo! If he hadn’t answered their calls, he would not be in this predicament! Any frustration Suguru could muster was squashed by the terror suffocating him.  He now understood why Nanami and Gojo had been so horrified over the phone. The other entities looked like puppies compared to this monstrosity. Its long fingers moved from his hair to his eyelids. Somehow, even more fear pierced through Getou like a spear built from the darkest nightmares of mankind. 

“ Y̶̮̑̕ȍ̵̱u̷͇̬̿͠ ̵̱͒̈s̶̰̻̾̇ā̸̮̙i̶̱͐̀ḓ̸̐ ̸͎͒y̴̢̱͠ô̵͕u̷̪̍͝ ̶͇̃̾w̶͔̥͐̇o̴̯̓n̴̹̹̍͝’̴̦̻͝͝t̴̯̭̽̉ ̸̺̓̾h̵̖̃a̷̢͑ṙ̵̲m̵̭̃͜ ̷̧̽̎u̸͚̽š̵̨,̷̩̳͆ ̶̡̟̀s̸̛̗̈́ọ̸́ ̵̙̚I̵͉̺̍̓ ̶̧͓̇w̶̮̮̐́ọ̶͙͐͝n̷̖̋̅’̴͔̱̑t̷̙̍͝ ̴͚̃̌ḧ̴̝́ȃ̶͚͙r̶͈͓̄͝m̴̻̲̋ ̵͈̱̕y̸̠̿o̴̠͊ų̴̾ ̶͕̐͘e̷̘͝ỉ̷̭t̶̘̠͑̄h̴͈͐͑e̸̙̅͛r̶̤͑.̵̨̦̓͋ ̴̘̽̾ͅI̸͚̓ ̸͈̖̀s̷̨̹̈́̐i̸͓͍̐́m̴̲͛p̵̺̈́̊ľ̷̡̐y̵̜̭̔ ̷̤̏w̷͚̯͆͝a̷̢͉̋n̶̠͉͠t̶͚̞͌ ̴͙̤͆t̸͉͔̀ö̸̱̞̌ ̸̞̄t̸̻͗͌a̵̡̓l̷͙̲̾k̴̢͙̅̋ ̶͖̜̈́t̷̯͈͂o̷̲̐͗͜ ̷̻̇ý̸̖ͅo̸̬̦̓̍u̷͓̹͊̚.̶͇̀ͅ ̷̧́́Y̵̪͆õ̸͎̺u̷̳̍ ̵̝͈̅w̵̫̌͝e̸̤̠̅r̸̞͎̓e̷͎̭̽ ̶̥̂ș̴̚o̵̬̬̎͂ ̶̠̻̏͝ě̷̡̄ȃ̶ͅg̷̰͋ͅĕ̶̛͔ṙ̴͉̣̃ ̴͓̈́ͅb̶̙̏͊ẹ̵̩́̇f̸̹̿̈́o̵̫̍͋r̸̗̜̈́ẽ̶̠͕̚,̶͚̍͠ ̸̺̝͒̏ǹ̵͓ọ̷̈́͊?̶͕̈"

If his body hadn’t locked up, Getou would have collapsed by now. The hand moved once more, placing a single claw on his forehead. It traced a line across his forehead, moving back and forth endlessly. While the touch was incredibly gentle, Suguru knew that it would not take much for the claw to draw blood. The claw could probably cut his entire skull in half! 

“Ṣ̸̆h̷̒ͅh̸̡̎h̷͍̍.̶̘͗ ̴̼͑Ṇ̵͝ô̸̱ ̶̺̀n̵͒͜e̸͊͜ȩ̷̓d̸͇̎ ̶̧́ț̸̆o̸̫͑ ̷͚͑b̶̝͝ȅ̶͙ ̴̠̒s̷̳͗o̷̳͗ ̷͔͑s̴͈̀č̵̢a̸̠͒r̵̯̋ḙ̷̀d̵͍̋.̴̝́ ̶̜̀Y̵̟̐o̴̜͛u̸͔͆’̸̲́r̷̼̉e̶̙͌ ̵̨͠ȳ̸̭o̴͎͝u̴͎̐!̵̰͑ ̸̼̀Ǹ̷̩Ò̶͇Ṯ̷̓    ̷̨̣̟̟̖̮͕̘͖͑̅̾͐̄͊̈́̔̚ͅh̷̲̞̥̪̠̳͈͖̩̺̤̘̠̓́̈́̃͗̆̒̒͑̚͜ ̵̳̹͙̼̗̦͉̯͖̘͔͒̓̔͝ĩ̵̧̛͖̞͕̬͍̌͒́̋͒͘͝͝ ̶̛́̏͛̈́̽̅͋͛͛́͘̚ͅm̸̮͇̗͇̺͔̩͉̼̬̻̳̾̔̍͛       Ì̷̥ ̵͕̓d̴̥̓ǒ̷̼n̶̤̂’̷̱̀t̵̠̓ ̸̋͜w̴͚̃a̴̻̍n̵͔̍n̸̟̔ā̵͈ ̴̫̓k̴͚̆ī̶̦l̸͉͗l̸̗̅ ̸̜̌y̶̹͝o̸͔̓ù̵̻.̷̨̛ ̸̙̈́J̶̼͛u̵̘͠s̴͙͌t̷̙̿ ̴͖͗o̶̺̿p̷̤̌e̸͙͑ṋ̴̉ ̷̙̚t̵͉̄h̶̓͜o̷̤͘s̷̜̾ẽ̵̮ ̶̘͐e̴͚͆y̷͉͆e̴̗̔s̸̫̋,̴̩̔ ̶̲̍ö̸́ͅk̴̺͊a̸͈͝y̴̬͛?̵̗͒”̶̪͌

At face value, the request was harmless, but Suguru could detect the commanding tone hidden underneath the cheery voice. 

With his body screaming at him to not listen to the demonic presence, Getou complied. His eyes hesitantly opened, blinking rapidly to clear the spots from them. He tried looking down, but a cold hand grabbed his chin and tilted it upwards. 

“Ţ̴̝̐̀̓h̷͕͕̟͂ḛ̶͍̥̂̅͒r̸͍͈̟͝ę̸̯̓̒ ̷̭͍̱̎̂̆w̵̠͔̣̆e̶̻͇̹͛̕ ̶͈͚̪̽ǧ̴͎̈́̐o̵̖̮̮̿!̴͛̈́ͅ”̶̯̟̤͐"

Getou gasped and tried to step back, but the grip on his jaw was too tight to escape from. He had no choice but to look at the figure that would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

Eyes. So many eyes stared at him with differing emotions. Suguru could not keep track of the countless eyes boring into him. The hand that had been gripping his face retreating into the black void surrounding them. They looked exactly like Satoru’s. To see those eyes he adored become so twisted and wrong caused a hollowness in his chest. The largest pair of eyes was looking at him with joy and mischief. Said pair moved around unlike the others. It must be attached to the body of the creature hidden within the thick fog. He needed to do something. He had wanted to talk to the sixth entity. He could not stand there like an idiot! Move!

“Ḯ̴͖t̴͖̀’̵̻̓s̶͖̆ ̴̹̽ä̴̻́l̴̡͝r̵̳̓ḯ̶͖g̸͇̓ḩ̸͠t̶̙̒ ̵̲̀t̸̳͐h̵̙̀ä̵̠ẗ̸̗ ̶̱́y̷͙̍o̴͖͒ủ̷͔ ̵̯͒c̵̘̑a̴̠͛n̷̨̽’̴̺̌t̴̜͋ ̷̹͘m̷̗̀o̶̙͘v̷̛̺e̴͍͝.̸̜̊ ̶̳͝N̴͕̔o̷̻͗ ̶̧̒h̶̺͊ṷ̷̎m̷̲̉a̶̰̓n̸̜̽ ̶̟̇c̶̗͂å̴͙n̷̔ͅ,̸̮͒ ̶̘͛w̷̲̿ḧ̷̤́ì̴̠c̷̠̿h̶̥͊ ̷̹͝ĩ̶̼s̵̡̔ ̷̠́ŕ̴̙e̶͉̊a̵̮͒l̵̫͘l̵͚̾y̵̱̕ ̶̩̍b̶̼̓o̴͈͋r̵͚͑ī̷ͅn̶̮͛g̵̗̾!̵̘̔” The glowing blue eyes rolled with annoyance. Quickly, its childish demeanor became serious. Each eye adopted the same seriousness. “ Y̸̹͆o̷̱̿u̶̟̿ ̴̟͠ḓ̴̛o̵͂ͅn̶̗͒’̶̦̿ẗ̵̬ ̶̼̍ạ̸͝ç̷̾ț̶̾u̴͔͂a̴̛͎l̵̻̍l̸̩̂y̵̻͆ ̵̣̚n̶͚̿e̵̱̾e̵̯̾d̶̫͘ ̶͔̆t̴͖̃o̵͓̽ ̸̟͊t̶̼̍a̵͔̽ĺ̷̗k̷̥͗.̴̜͊ ̴̡̈A̷̠͝l̵̖̈́l̵͈͗ ̴̜̊I̷̙̅ ̷̳͗n̶̳͆e̴̮̎è̴̤ḑ̷̚ ̷̥̈y̵͕͆o̷͕̓ṷ̷͝ ̷̰̚t̷̼̄o̶̫̽ ̴͖̓d̴̨͗o̸͉̽ ̶̒͜i̸̍͜s̴̯͋ ̴̮͗l̶͕̄i̷̙͑s̵̨͑t̶̥̂e̶̬͝ǹ̶̲ ̶̲͠ẗ̵̡o̵͙͆ ̸̙̐m̵̡̽e̷̢̾ ̵̨͊a̵̝͋n̵̲͒ḏ̴͝ ̸̳̚k̷̭͠e̶͕͘ḛ̵̓p̷̬̃ ̷̟͐ẙ̷̫o̶̱̿u̷̱͆r̵̨͛ ̶̰͗ě̸̠y̶͈̅é̶͈s̶͇͒ ̷̙̐ö̴̜́p̵̺̈́e̴͕͂n̸̫̍.̷̨́ ”

“Why?” Getou spat out with more force than intended. His chest heaved as the word left his mouth. Horror overcame him as he realized he’d offended the eldritch horror. 

Instead of becoming enraged, a giggle left the creature. “ I̵̪͂ ̸̭̓s̶̀͜h̷͎͝o̵̢͝u̵͇͘l̶̰͊d̶̩̈ ̵̹̅h̶̞̄a̵͇͒v̶͇͋è̴̲ ̵̠̋ḙ̵́x̸̲͂p̸̙͘ḛ̵̈c̵͑͜ṱ̷͗ĕ̷̮d̷͈͝ ̸̦́ý̵͚o̷͔̍u̵̧͠ ̶̧̎t̶͍̎ȍ̴͍ ̸͉͛a̴̳̎s̵̥̐k̸̙̄ ̸͙͐m̸͖͊e̶̛͚ ̸̙͌t̶͎̓h̶̟̏a̷̳̾t̴̩͒.̵̧̏ ̷͚̉S̶̖̈́o̶̘̓ ̵͓̈́c̷̳͂ű̶͜r̸̡̐ì̸̱o̸̼̾ư̶̞s̴̟̅ ̶̰͝l̸̰͝ì̶͙k̶̺̀è̵̺ ̶̙̾a̶͈̐l̷̨̂w̷̭͝a̴̗͌ẙ̴͍s̸̨̈!̵̻̕ ̷̣̾Y̷̧̚o̸͐͜u̶͉͝ ̴͈̀h̶͖͝a̸͎͌v̸̥̿e̶̠̚n̶͉͠’̵̱̋ţ̵̓ ̷͙̋c̷̪͠h̴̙͛a̷̜͠n̷̈́͜g̵̮̀ḛ̴̐d̷̟̂ ̶͎͘.̷̙̿”̴̨̀.

Suguru immediately noticed the odd wording. He continued to push his fear to the side with his need to learn more. “How do you know me? You’ve been talking to me like I’m a long-lost friend or something.”

“ Ṭ̷̦͈͇̹͕̯̜͛̉̍͛̾͝h̶̞̼̪̠̞͕͒a̸͈̮͓̝̾̈́ţ̵̀̈́͋̇’̸͈̔̈̓͛̉̊̀̊̃͊͝ş̷̝̥̤̖̲̮͖̞̠̔̓̏̈́̅̏͊͜͝͠͝ ̷̠̣̞͊̂̚b̸͓̝̻̫̯̼̬̙̳̫̒̒̈́̈́ẻ̸̡̡̗̙̼͍̀̉̈̔̚c̶̹͕̮̥̫͕̠̲̄̿̋́͊̓̍͝͠͠͝ą̴̛̘̝͙̜̯̜̱̰ṵ̷̼̏̋̌͒̾̍̃��̕͘s̶̠͓̞͔͉̑̏̏̒͘͠e̴̱͈̺̮̜̠̟̞̲͒́̈́͋̉̎͠ ̴̢̱̯̹̩͕̀̂̀̅̓̋̋̀͆̌ͅy̵̭̻̩͆̔̿̒o̶̖̙̟̯͈̻͛̐̈́̉̇̓͘͠ụ̶͖͍͈͇̬̺̲̋́͆͂̅́̉̚ͅ ̷̺̋́̀̏͊́̃̕̚͠a̸̻̖͍̖̤͍͆̈́͑̿̈́͑̄͂͘͝͝ŗ̶̝̰͉͚̗͎̱̻̺̔́̈̈́̀͘ê̴̝̱͙̔̍̓̀͌̈́̿̏̉.̶͚̐̊̇̍̈̇͗͝͝͠”

All the eyes surrounding them disappeared, only the main pair remaining. Two white, spindly limbs stepped out of the shadows with the talons of a bird of prey at the ends. A sharp, hooked beak poked out at the same time, curled into a menacing smile. The beak was ghost white and serrated at the edges. As the creature moved further from the cover of fog, Getou felt his heart stutter as the monster fully revealed itself. White hair sat atop the entity’s head, followed by a black mask that covered its eyes. The mask wrapped around its long neck, ending in two tattered ends. The body of the creature reminded Getou of his rainbow dragon, who had been sliced in half by Toji’s blade. Unlike the curse, the entity’s body was split into five segments that were connected by an invisible force. The head and neck made up the first segment, the second segment was just the front legs, the creature’s lanky torso was the third segment, the back legs were the fourth, and the creature's long, smoky tail made up the last segment. The white hair on its head grew down its body like a fluffy mane, only stopping at the legs and tail. Feathers were mixed with the fur on its back. The feathers were easy to spot with their length and varied between three colors: blue, red, and purple. 

The draconic creature was massive and towered over Suguru. Its size dwarfed his rainbow dragon, who was one of Suguru’s largest curses. At this point, Getou was surprised his heart was still beating considering the amount of horror gripping said organ. He should have died from a heart attack by now. His hands trembled violently as he tried to raise them. His death was imminent if he didn’t summon an army of curses. Maybe he could try Maximum Uzumaki-

“A̸̘̔h̷͎̄.̷̇͜ ̸͈͑A̵̦̋h̵̟̕.̴͚͌ ̸̮͊A̶͖̒h̷̡͆.̶̺͂ ̵̘͘Ṉ̵̈́ǒ̵̲n̸̜̔e̵͉̎ ̶̥͝ö̵̧f̸̮͋ ̷͖̇t̸͎̋h̸͕͛a̶̠̓t̷̝͐ ̷̥̉ņ̵͊o̴̧̽w̸̜͗.̷̳͐ ̴̩̓Y̸̥͐ò̵̜u̵͍͆ ̴̙͌s̴̫̓ḁ̷̅i̸̹͠ḍ̶͝ ̴̔ͅy̷̥̐ŏ̶̡u̶̝̅ ̴̝̔w̷̳̓e̸̼̐r̷͈̈́ḛ̶̍ ̸̮̍ù̴͈ǹ̶̟a̸̋͜ř̴̨m̸̧̂e̶̦̚d̶͈̕.̷̦̓ ̵͔̓O̸̬̔r̸̟̒ ̷̣͛w̸̳̏a̷͇͛s̷͇͊ ̷͖̓t̴͍̓h̸̢̕a̷̛̰t̷̬̕.̸̱́a   L̷̛͙͍̭̦̝͚̬̪̳̉̑͛̌̓̋̈́͊̀͘ ̷̛̗̙̙̜̹̠̀̉̉̑̃̔̚͜͝ͅͅI̸̧̠̱̹̜̗͕̲̜̬̅̈̎͋̽̅̃͗̀͘͜͝͝ͅ ̵͖̠̻̝̯͙̥̜̈́̓̀̊͠Ḙ̵̡̧̤̗͉̬̻͈͆̂͗͜?̶̢̛̹̩͓̟̫̪͔͓̊̑́̊̈̏̕͜ͅ

Like a peacock displaying its vibrant feathers, the demon’s tail spread out to the fullest. Despite being made of black smoke, the entity could control it perfectly. All the eyes that had disappeared from the void he was in reappeared inside the creature’s tail. While a peacock’s feathers were meant to show off their beauty to impress a female, the unholy abomination’s tail was used to show off the indescribable power it had with each eye promising a painful death. It let out a shriek of laughter, which Getou immediately recognized. It was the same shriek over the phone. 

Those shrieks were not made from an infuriated monster. 

It was laughing . 

Its laughter was familiar. Its white hair. Its cursed energy. Its color scheme. Its voice hidden within the distortion. Its eyes. 

No other being was capable of having the same eyes as-

As if a flip was switched, everything now made sense to Getou. The identity of these beings. The reason why they had appeared out of nowhere. The answer to their protectiveness of the infant. It came from an old myth, but the details were too similar to ignore. These creatures were far from cursed spirits or demons. 

Getou looked at the creature before him with an entirely new perspective. A smug grin split the sharp beak of the entity. When it spoke next, the distortion was completely gone from its voice. Its voice was clear and undeniably belonged to-

“Yo, Suguru!”

Where a beast had stood, there was now a lanky man with a black blindfold over his eyes. He was littered in deep cuts. There was blood pooling from a large slice in his stomach. His hand was raised in a friendly wave. 

Getou couldn’t breathe. 

The man smiled. 

“Heh. I’ve always wanted to say that.”

Everything turned black. 

.

.

.

Yaga knew his life would never be easy as a jujutsu sorcerer. In fact, he was the principal of a damn jujutsu highschool. If anything, he did this to himself. He expected his patience to be tested in every way, he expected to never be able to take a break, and he even expected to become a pseudo-parent to each of his traumatized students. 

He did not, however, expect to be woken in the dead of night by Shoko throwing a water bottle at his face. 

“WAKE THE FUCK UP!” Shoko then immediately realized her error. “Shit. I meant to pour water on your face.”

“THE BOTTLE IS NOT EVEN OPEN, SHOKO.” Yaga was wide awake now with a throbbing nose. He pinched his fingers over the bridge of his nose, already sensing an oncoming headache. While the man was angry, he knew that Shoko would not do such a stupid thing without reason. “Explain why you needed to wake me up at this hour. Now.”

“Well, I don’t want to be awake right now either, but Getou texted me saying that there is an emergency going on with Nanami and Gojo, so he went out to help. You know that shouldn’t happen unless something seriously went wrong with their mission in Sendai.” Shoko had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Unlike Gojo, she knew Getou was not a moron who would do pranks in the middle of the night. Dread was already pooling in her gut. 

At her words, Yaga instantly straightened and got up. He adorned a serious expression. If Gojo could not handle the special grade curse, then something truly had gone awry with the mission. What’s more, Nanami was there too. Yaga wanted to bash himself in the head for not fighting against the council more about their reckless decision. Nanami was still grieving heavily for Haibara, a boy who had died far too young. He should not be forced to fight in such a state. Additionally, Yaga knew how stretched thin and stressed Gojo was. After the incident with Toji, he had noticed the changes in Getou and Gojo’s behavior. Getou had become more withdrawn than ever, and Gojo had bags under his eyes that rivaled Shoko’s. Both teens were traumatized, but the council seemed to make it their personal mission to work Gojo to the bone with the nonstop missions. 

His frustration at himself had to be put aside as there was something more dire at hand. “I’ll gather reinforcements at once. Shoko, please prepare the infirmary while I’m gone.” He left without waiting for the girl’s response. It was a good thing he had stayed up late since he was still in his uniform. Yaga took his phone out to send various texts and calls to his colleagues. With a pang of guilt, Yaga woke up Ijichi, his young assistant, which caused the teen to yelp in surprise. Ijichi was a timid person, but he still wanted to help the jujutsu world. He became part of the very small staff in Tokyo academy. His superior driving abilities were what Yaga needed right now.

With little words spoken, Ijichi gathered himself and led them to his assigned car. Yaga had taken a moment to gather his most powerful cursed corpses for a possible fight ahead. The car ride was a blur to Yaga. Before he knew it, they had arrived at the site Yaga had sent the young sorcerers to. Gakuganji and his students arrived soon after. The older man had a frown on his face at the abrupt awakening. Two of his students, Mei Mei and Utahime stood next to him. Utahime was trying to rub the sleep from her eyes while Mei had a tight grip on her axe with a tense expression. Being called for an emergency did not happen in jujutsu. What happened more often was the sorcerer being killed before help could be alerted in the first place. 

This situation was ringing alarm bells and waving red flags in Yaga’s mind. He ignored them and began walking into the remains of the abandoned warehouse. The forest around the group was relatively unharmed. No fire was leftover from the explosion. What concerned Yaga the most was the lack of any sound. It was too quiet considering who the mission was assigned to. 

“Mei Mei, can you use your crows to find the students?” Gakuganji asked. He kept his face neutral, but his tone portrayed his apprehension. 

“Of course.” The young woman smiled. She made a small flock of her crows survey the area. Sharing their sight, she could see the debris and bloodstains on the grass. There was no evidence that a battle was occurring with the calmness of the forest. Eventually, one of her crows spotted a large tree with a wide trunk. She focused on it and made the bird look behind the tree. “There they are. Follow me.”

“What conditions are their body’s in?” The question left Yaga’s mouth quickly. 

Mei Mei hummed. “The three seem unharmed, but their clothes are damaged and bloodied. Perhaps Gojo-kun used his reverse cursed technique to heal them?”

“If Gojo had been able to heal them, then there would not be a need for calling us here.” He wished that was what had happened, but Yaga knew better than to give himself false hope. Something malicious had hurt his students severely enough to have Gojo incapacitated.

When Mei Mei led them to the young sorcerers, Yaga almost lost his composure. Next to him, Gakuganji was tense at the sight with Utahime hiding behind the elder. Despite her frequent squabbles with Gojo, Utahime did not hate him. Sure, he was annoying but never meant any harm with his teasing of her. New sorcerers were hard to come by with the high fatality rate. Most teenage sorcerers just starting in sorcery often died before they got the chance to learn and grow stronger. Utahime knew that her fellow peers were her only friends that could die at any moment. 

Gojo, Nanami, and Getou looked dead.

The trio had been propped up against the tree in a sitting position. Each of their heads hung low as if they had fallen asleep. When Yaga gently tilted Nanami’s head up, ice filled his veins. Nanami’s brown eyes were wide open in a frozen look of fear. As he examined the other teens, he found that they had the same ailment. They were all breathing, thankfully, but they were in a trance that they could not break out of. 

Gakuganji and Yaga shared a glance. A curse powerful enough to bypass Gojo’s infinity and put the three sorcerers in this frozen state was still alive. If it had died, the teens would be aware and talking to them. Their cursed energy was at its fullest. ‘Tapped off’ so to speak. It served to greatly confuse the adults. The only sign that a battle had occurred was the tearing of Gojo and Nanami’s clothing and the bloodstains. Tension filled the air as the group observed the teens in varying states of concern. A fight to the death would be among them with the curse capable of harming two of his strongest students to this extent.

No one spoke as each readied their cursed technique or weapon. The curse was reported as a special grade, so they needed to be ready for anything. 

The wail of a child shattered the silence. 

“Was that a-” Before Yaga could finish, a powerful presence stopped any further words from forming. The energy was unlike anything Yaga had ever felt before. From the shocked look on Gakugaji’s face, the elder sorcerer had not either. Utahime felt Mei Mei’s warm hand squeeze her on her right shoulder. This caused Utahime to realize that she had begun trembling. Mei was the tensest she’s ever seen with her knuckles turning white from the grip on her axe. 

In an instant, several entities appeared from the shadows of the trees. Mei Mei suppressed a shiver at the creatures managing to hide from her crows, which had never occurred before. The small group were all frozen once they got a better look at the creatures. They now could see why it was an emergency as these were not curses. The monsters had this sense of wrongness that disturbed the sorcerers to their core.

Six creatures stared at them for a moment before launching into action. A row of nails were shot at them with pinpoint accuracy. Without his battle hardened reflexes, Gakuganji would have died instantly from a nail to the head. He took out his electric guitar strapped to his back and readied his hand to strum the strings. A spotted bandage wrapped around his arm and yanked it so hard he felt his shoulder dislocate. He let out a cry of pain.

“SENSEI!” Utahime tried to go to her elder, but was stopped by a tongue wrapping around her legs. She looked behind her and saw a frog made of black goop restraining her. Her disgust was replaced with fear as the large amphibian began to retract its tongue, pulling her into its mouth. The girl dug her hands into the ground to resist the pull. “MEI MEI! I NEED HELP!”

Said girl snapped her head to the scared voice of her friend. She summoned a crow to pierce the frog’s tongue, cutting it off. As she did so, a nail flew past her face, cutting off a section of her braid. Mei Mei tried to find the creature who was shooting the nails but was interrupted by a wolf biting her in the leg. She shouted in pain as the sharp teeth of the shadow creature tore into her left calf. The girl made several of her crows kill themselves to deliver multiple Bird Strikes to the wolf. 

Meanwhile, Yaga had released his cursed corpses to overwhelm the three beings attacking the others. The brief distraction allowed Yaga to see the source of the cry. It was a baby that had two snarling beasts guarding it. The canine-like creature barked, making one of his curses pop in front of him in the midst of charging. A powerful punch from the doll winded Yaga, but he quickly redirected it to the beast. The baby could become a casualty if Yaga didn’t do something. However, his small glance at the terrified infant made several beams of blood pierced through Yaga’s shoulders and thighs. He heard cries of pain. When he looked behind him, he saw the beams had not stopped once stabbing him. They had struck Utahime in the face and Mei Mei in the stomach who were the closest to the trajectory of the attack. 

The demonic feline that had shot the condensed blood was growling and spitting at Yaga. It had a murderous rage in its eyes. The beastly canine returned and attempted to bite the man. He tried to dodge, but the prior attack had immobilized him. Once he felt the monstrous teeth make contact with his arm, he felt agony surge through him

Then the baby began to cry. All the creatures stopped their attacks immediately. Yaga fell when the blood piercing him was retracted viciously. Five of the creatures were curling around the infant who had begun wailing. The sixth creature seemed to be made of dark fog and covered its companions with six eyes glaring at the injured sorcerers. His heart sank as the wails of the baby grew louder. He was certain the monsters were about to eat the infant, but he was proven wrong. The cat began purring and the mummy-like entity placed the baby in its lap while using some of its bandages to stroke the baby’s irritated skin soothingly. The canine placed its large head next to the baby and rumbled deeply. The shadow entity and the being made of metal sat beside the distressed child while emitted soft chitters.

It was a display of the concern and love the entities had for the baby.  It could not be mistaken for anything else.

As the crying continued, Yaga noticed black markings start to show up on the baby’s smooth skin. Very recognizable markings. 

Could it be that-

“Shit! It was not supposed to happen today!”

A man with pink hair ran past the sorcerer, uncaring of their wounds. He was muscular and wore casual clothing. The bag the man had been holding was thrown to the side as he rushed to the infant. He scooped up the baby and cradled the crying baby close to his chest. His honey-colored eyes were wide with an unreadable emotion as he held the infant. When his gaze locked onto Yaga, who was the closest to the group of monstrosities, the honey of his eyes darkened into crimson. Black smoke enveloped the man quickly. Once it faded, a ten foot entity stood before them. A demon that was the source of nightmares for the eldest of sorcerers, who should have been forgotten. He was only dressed in loose black pants with his tattooed chest on display. His four arms were thick and covered in tattoos. The upper pair was holding the baby more gently than a monster of his might should be able too. A trident was held in the bottom pair of arms which were adorned with thick claws. He looked at the sorcerers with disgust, sneering at them. “How pathetic.”

His voice was a deep rumble that made Yaga and the others shiver in fear. His four crimson eyes continued to look down upon the group. “You pitiful maggots are quite lucky that I have much better things to do than waste my time confronting such weak beings. I will give you a chance to improve, so I can actually have a fight that won’t make me die of boredom. Find me if you wish. Until you do, get stronger so I won’t be this disappointed again. Fail to entertain me, and I will have this world shaped to my liking. You will not be in it. Take that as a warning. The only warning I’ll give.”

The creature that was made of black fog covered the other vile creatures and the curse holding an infant that looked too much like the fallen god. The fog resembled a tornado with its powerful winds. Branches and debris hit the sorcerers in their faces. Once the small twister dissipated, an empty patch of grass met the eyes of the shocked sorcerers. 

Three voices came from the tree where the trio had been placed. Gojo, Getou, and Nanami rushed to assist their companions. Their help was almost useless with the trembling of their hands. With effort, the three got Gakuganji, Utahime, and Mei Mei into sitting positions. Yaga stumbled to his students with blood dripping from his wounds. He refused to sit even with how his students pleaded for him to do so. “That was Sukuna.”

Getou nodded his head numbly. He suddenly held Nanami and Gojo tightly in his arms as he whispered. “Those were cursed souls. They’re real. And he…I thought…” His face screwed up in pain before he could finish what he was going to say. Suguru buried his head into Gojo’s hair and shut his eyes tightly. Tears filled the eyes of Satoru at the contact. Satoru nuzzled his head into Suguru’s shoulder as soft cries left the Infinity user, his face hidden by Getou’s long hair. In Getou’s other arm, Nanami was being held by the older teen as if the blonde would disappear. The usually stoic teen leaned his head on Getou’s free shoulder as he gently took Gojo’s trembling hands into his own, holding in his tears with a quivering lip. Nanami closed his eyes once he noticed the stares of the others, a single tear running down his pale face. 

Sukuna had been resurrected under the radar of all sorcerers. There had been no reports or sightings of the curse king. He had vanished again after promising death if they disappointed him in any way. The entities accompanying him were cursed souls, a creature only heard of in old myths or around a campfire to spook people. Today, myth became reality. A very very bad reality. 

The King of Death was back

Fuck. 

[plutowon]

CHACONNE a night to remember

the tv screen glows brightly as one of the only sources of lighting. it hits yuna’s delicate face as she scrolls mindlessly through her phone, waiting for her friends to get settled.

“you know, you could help with the blankets,” haechan comments as he tosses a pile down onto the couch and ningning laughs as she lays them out with the pillows.

“yuna? helping? we’d get dragged to hell by a demon before yuna helps anybody” ningning jokes with a hand floating over her mouth as she giggles. yuna rolls her eyes and flips ningning off before tossing her phone onto the table. she runs a hand through her soft black hair and sighs as she turns towards ningning and haechan, who are giggling behind the couch.

“go ahead and get the movie started, i’ll get some popcorn” haechan ruffles yuna's hair and walks off to the kitchen while ningning jumps on the cushions and presses play. ningning isn’t one for horror movies, but the only other option was twilight, so this will have to do. she admits, she’s restless though. she finds herself quivering against yuna for the first 20 minutes of the film–my god, 20 minutes in and it’s already getting to her. everything is enough to make her brain go into overdrive. every open door, every empty corridor ,and every character, all of which she’s accused of being guilty at least once.

but it’s not until she reaches for popcorn that’s not there that a truly chilling and sinister feeling settles deep inside her soul.

that feeling. the one when something is just off…just so off putting and it leaves a bad taste in you mouth. she can feel her bones tingling against her flesh.

“...where’s haechan?” 

yuna looks at her then towards the direction of the kitchen, turning back just to shrug and look at the movie. so ningning takes it upon herself to anxiously stalk towards the kitchen. all alone. by herself.

yuna doesn’t pay ningning any attention as her feet click and clack on the hardwood floor, but as she’s watching the movie, her phone rings loudly. she curses after she jolts a bit from the shock–not that she’s willing to admit she became startled from something as small as a phone ringing–then answers the phone.

“hello?”

“hello” says the man on the other side. it’s a voice she doesn’t at all recognize.

“um…who is this?”

“well why does that matter? do you need to know someone to talk to them?”

she laughs at his pathetic excuse.

“i guess not, but i’m with some friends right now”

“oh come on, you can spare me a couple minutes right? what are you up to?”

“we’re just watching a movie. a horror movie” although, yuna admits she’s not really paying attention now.

“ooh a horror movie. what’s your favorite scary movie?” she chuckles, throwing her head into her hand.

“well, not that one. but i don't think i have a favorite” the man sighs.

“really? this one’s very good though. i wonder what’s taking ningning and haechan so long, they’re missing all the good parts!”

yuna pauses as she feels every nerve in her body cease and freeze. as if a switch has clicked in her brain and she cannot move. perspiration begins to form on her forehead, then suddenly, she feels the panic surge through her and a cold wind suddenly fills her lungs, and it should be refreshing, but yuna has never in her life been as terrified as she is right now.

“…what?”

“what? i’m simply saying popcorn shouldn’t take this long…should it, yuna?”

she jumps, one hand gripping the back of the sofa as she looks around the living room, searching for the voice patronizing her.

“where have your friends gone, yuna?”

“what the hell do you want”

the voice chuckles sinisterly, enjoying the trembling in her’s, even as she tries so hard to sound assertive.

“what do i want? to see what your insides look like, of course”

yuna’s quick on her feet, running to every door and window in the house to make sure it’s locked as the voice on the phone mocks her while she cries and panics. 

“leave me alone!”

“oh yuna, yuna, yuna…you know i’m not gonna do that” 

yuna cries before she feels a wet squelch under her socked feet. slowly, she gazes down at the dark crimson liquid that has tainted her white socks, but what’s even more frightening is haechan’s body that lay in the pool. his eyes wide open and dead, staring back at her with blood drying up around his mouth.

yuna screams.

“oh, i see you’ve found haechan. such a pity, your little lap dog is dead, hm?”

“listen y-you asshole, i don’t know who you are but,” she stops to swallow “i’m gonna find you”

“oh, how exciting!”

“i’m serious!” she screams as she sobs. her legs begin to shake, yet she stays up.

“w-where’s ningning”

“hm…how about we play a little game? if you can guess where ningning is, i’ll let you both live, yea?”

“no no i-i can’t, please”

“aw, but you were so confident earlier? let’s play a game, shin yuna”

yuna’s brain begins to tingle as she tries to think of any other way out of this situation, but the more she thinks, the more it’s clear that there’s no other way. she must find ningning before he can kill her.

“okay”

“great! love that enthusiasm! now, where do you think she is?”

yuna takes a step forward before she’s interrupted.

“ah ah ah, miss yuna. i said if you can guess where she is, not if you could find where she is”

“fuck you”

“that’s sweet. you get three guesses”

“under the sofa”

he scoffs at her lack of urgency and her incredible lack of reasoning.

“wow yuna, are you stupid? and how would i have managed that? think with your brain, sweetheart” 

she huffs out. one of her three guesses used up on her impulsivity.

“uh, the kitchen?”

“that’s better. but where in the kitchen did you have in mind?”

fuck.

yuna thought that would be good enough, but it makes sense that he would make it hard for her.

“t-the…um-”

“are you getting nervous, yuna? i hate to cut the fun short, but i don’t have all fucking day so make your guess and make it quick”

she squeezes her eyes tightly shut and presses her palm into her forehead. she breathes in and out deeply before she’s once again cut off.

“make it quick, yuna”

“i-i- the cabinet. the one below the sink”

the silence sets in. and for it being silence, it was loud enough to make yuna’s head spin and her ears bleed. until that sickening chuckle fills the phone and her stomach turns at the sound of it.

“aw, i’m sorry, yuna. that’s the wrong answer”

“no wait just- just give me another chance”

“in real life, there are no second chances”

before yuna can refute, she hears a crash and a scream from the living room. running towards the sound, yuna would’ve fallen to the floor had it not been for the quickness in which her hand hit the floor and pushed her back up. however, when she gets back up, she sees ningning against the glass patio doors screaming trying to open the door,

the door yuna had previously locked.

“yuna!” she screams with all the strength in her lungs. yuna’s instincts must have kicked in, as she runs it feels like autopilot. as if she has no power over her decisions and her body. she rushes to unlock the door as she fumbles with the lock and ningning fumbles with the handle. yuna can’t even begin to remember how she locked the door before. the tiny lock is hard to get a handle on and it seems as though it’s stuck. the sweat on her fingertips she’s constantly wiping off is making it hard to get a grip on it, but as she’s fumbling, she feels another presence enter. she looks up and sees someone towering over ningning. the long black cloak and pale white agasp mask stares back at her with a tilted head, mocking her.

“ningning, behind you!“ she screeches as she pulls and pulls on the lock–fuck, why won’t it open?

ningning glances behind herself before she looks back at yuna with wide eyes. she beings to cry.

“yuna unlock the fucking door!-“

“i’m trying!” the figure pushes ningning hard against the glass, hard enough for her to be shocked at the force. he does it over and over and over again and at this point, yuna knows ningning is as good as dead. she knows he’ll win. that he knows this as well. he’s toying with them, feeding off their fear, anticipation and will to live.

but even so she has to try. 

when the door finally clicks, she’s about to pull the door open before blood splurts out of ningnings mouth and onto the glass. yuna freezes and her blood runs cold. her hand feebly goes towards the handle before she’s shocked back from ningning being stabbed into the glass again and again and again and again, her blood covering the glass as yuna sits back helplessly with her hands against her mouth.

“please, stop it, please!”

she falls to her knees and cries. covering her eyes and sobbing but the man does not stop. he tortures and torments her with the sound of ningning’s body hitting the glass and her ceasing begs. finally, yuna hears him drop the body. she looks up at him and she can feel him smiling at her from behind the mask. he steps over ningning’s body to get to the door and yuna, still on the floor, runs up as he opens it and closes it quickly on his hand. he yells out in pain as she opens and closes the door on his hand again. the third time, he pulls away and she closes and locks the door. backing away slowly, she watches as the man kicks the glass repeatedly, hitting it with his knife. he stops momentarily to pick up the hose and swings it towards the door, and to yuna’s unfortunate surprise, it’s breaking slowly but surely.

yuna doesn’t wait for the door to burst. she runs the other way towards the front entrance. she struggles to unlock the door once again, but manages to get it open. 

but right when the lock clicks, she looks back and realizes the man is gone. 

yuna panics, but she refuses to be a sitting duck, so she rushes out the door and runs. she looks back at the house multiple times but she never sees the man, that is, until the fifth time, when she looks forward, she sees him running towards her from the trees. it’s already too late as he tackles her.

he wastes no time plunging the knife into her heart. he lifts the knife up again and plunges it into her sternum. she coughs up blood, but she still tries to push him off. he stabs her violently and she can feel his hatred for her every time the knife goes through her soft flesh.

yuna knows it’s over.

she knows she’s dead,

so she uses the last bit of strength she has to pull off the mask.

<prev | masterlist | next>

taglist: @dootiexcupcake @bloofairyfox @hoonieluv @lilmxchis @woniewonn @solstramaii @phenomenalgirl9

[in-need-of-gally-content]

|Chapter•Twenty•Seven|

•|Masterlist|•

The following morning, Gally was already feeling better, maybe some sneezing here and there, but the fever was gone, although he took that day to rest as well, hopefully, he'll be fully recovered by tomorrow.

While sitting on his bed in Gally's room, they were talking about a few things, and when (M/n) got to the part of him just working around the Homestead, he remembered the conversation he heard the Sloppers and twinnies having the previous evening, so he debated whether he should say something or not.

But in the end, Gally noticed his hesitation, and he knew (M/n) wasn't sure about telling him what was going on, so he asked.

"What's on your mind?" (M/n) opened his mouth to simply say 'it's nothing' but the way Gally looked at him told him he had no other option. They had been working on his communication skills after all, he wouldn't let all of Gally's effort go to waste.

"So, I was busy fixing stuff downstairs, right? And... The Sloppers walked in, along with the twins, so I debated whether I should stay or leave, when I..." (M/n) pushed his hair back, as it was getting in the way, "Heard them talking about how they could get rid of me," Gally's stare changed from the soft look it had to rising anger, his jaw clenched as he kept listening, "They are making up plans to get me banished."

"Those motherfuckers..." Gally was about to get up and potentially leave more than one badly injured, but (M/n) held him back, his hand around his wrist, "Bean, we can't just let them-"

"We won't," he signalled with his head at Gally to sit back down, which he did, albeit a little grumpy, "But we know what to expect, right? They're gonna try something eventually, and we just have to... Ignore them."

Gally sighed, and nodded, somehow agreeing with (M/n)'s logical view, "Doesn't mean I won't beat them up if I have to."

They chuckled and this time around, (M/n) messed up Gally's blond locks, making him laugh more.

"I can always count on you to have my back, Gally."

//////

The next week and a half, the Sloppers and the twins had been trying everything in their power to get (M/n) to snap back at them for something they did or said to him.

But with (M/n) being aware of their scheming plans, he knew better than to respond to them in any way, whether it'll be physically or verbally, so they were both at a loss on what to do, and slowly, with each day they began to simply stop doing stuff.

That and they had stuff to arrange around for the new greenie coming up the next day, so they really had no time to mess around.

(M/n) was unsure of what to expect from the upcoming greenie, especially knowing that he would be spending time with Sean and Derek, and everyone knows who those two get along with, the literal group of Gladers that cursed his existence. He was used to telling himself that he didn't care they hated him, but he knew himself better than that, he wanted to know why, but he would never get a truthful answer from them, so he pretended like he didn't care.

At night, in his room and with his journal open, he wrote down a quick summary of his day, unable to stop himself from writing the last line.

How will the greenie be this time around...?

And after that, he turned his light off and got comfortable on his bed.

//////

It was lunchtime and as always, (M/n) skipped it, deciding to spend his time on the Watchtower, where he could be away from the eyes of the new guy in the Glade. He had taken his journal and camera with him, taking pictures of his friends talking or playing around, and the animals walking around the barn or just lying in the shade of a tree, after all, the view was better from above.

And currently, he was writing the lyrics of a song, something that could maybe be something everyone could sing with determination and hope, bringing them together as one seeing as, well, everyone wanted to find a way out.  

"Oh, I will find my place, yeah, I will fight my way through the maze..." He mumbled to himself, tapping the pen to a random rhythm that seemed to fit the pace of the song, "These walls are filled with rage, but I will fight my way..."

Knowing everyone was busy eating lunch, (M/n) expected to stay alone for quite a while, probably until he absolutely had to get down to help with the bonfire, but the sound of the hatch door opening next to him startled him for a moment. He turned to look at it, and saw Gally poking his head through, and judging by the grin on his face, (M/n) knew he was expecting him to be there.

"How did you know I was here?" Gally chuckled and climbed all the way to the top, closing the hatch and sitting next to (M/n), looking down at his open journal, observing the pictures on the left page, the right page had a few sentences written and doodles he had drawn.

"I know you, how do you think I found you so easily?" (M/n) laughed too, a little flustered at the mention of Gally knowing him well enough to know where he would go to be alone and enjoy quiet time by himself.

Being an introvert was tough sometimes.

After that, they stayed silent, no words were needed to find comfort and peace when they were with one another.

While (M/n) went back to being busy writing some words and randomly doodling, Gally took the Polaroid sitting in between them and took a picture of the (h/c) haired male, who was too focused to realize. Well, that was until the sound of the film coming out caught his attention.

He looked at Gally and saw him put the camera down, a wide smile on his face,  the picture revealing itself in his hand, "Did you just take a picture of me?" All he did was nod, his smile growing wider.

"You bet I did," (M/n) closed his journal and set it aside, reaching his hand out to grab the picture, but Gally moved it away before he could get close to taking it.

"Give me, I'll get rid of it," he got closer to Gally again, who kept moving away to protect the picture.

"Why? It turned out really good," he argued playfully and (M/n) frowned, huffing in response.

"I assure you it did not, now give it to me, Gally-," unaware of the uneven levels of the floor they were sitting on, (M/n) lost balance on the arm holding him up, and he ended pretty much on top of Gally.

The way they were suddenly so close made their breath hitch, and they were able to hear the other's breath stop for a moment. Nervous eyes trailed every feature of each other, and for an instant, (M/n) almost couldn't resist the urge to lean further in when he saw Gally's lips slightly parted open.

His breathing was becoming uneven and he was certain he would not be able to hold himself back from kissing Gally, "(M/n)...?"

The soft whisper of his name snapped him back to reality, and he backed away the moment he realized what he was about to do, feeling incredibly nervous and heated up, along with mortified, was he really about to kiss Gally and potentially ruin their friendship? He almost could not believe it.

"Sorry, you can keep it..." He mumbled as he struggled to open his journal again, his hand shaking and he tried to focus back on what he was doing, nibbling his bottom lip nervously and shifting in place.

But no matter how hard he tried, all he could think of were Gally's bright green eyes, staring so intensely into his, his plump lips so close to his, and fuck- he wanted to kiss him so badly.

He had no idea Gally was beating himself up for ruining his chance. With his eyes closed, he sighed as he realized how he messed up the opportunity to kiss (M/n). He promised himself he wasn't gonna hesitate next time... And he hoped the next time they're so close together he won't chicken out.

Gally took a deep breath, and slowly placed the photo down on (M/n)'s open journal, right in his line of sight, "Here, you can get rid of it."

(M/n) held it in his hand, and looked at it, debating whether he should rip it in half or keep it. There was nothing significant about the picture, it was just him, under the sunlight, focused on his journal, it practically was a parallel image to a Gally photo he had taken a while back, but this particular photo could have another meaning, so he chose to keep it.

He gripped his pen in his hand, and leaned slightly down to write on the bottom white part of the square polaroid film. 'Day 84 in the Glade. A new greenie is coming up~! <3'. He put the pen down and scavenged around the little pocket he had made on the bag of his journal.

Gally smiled when he saw (M/n) pinning the picture to the bottom of the right page, below all the writing he had done. He was happy (M/n) had decided to keep it instead of getting rid of it.

When he was done, he closed the journal and put it aside, picked up his camera, and stared at it for a few seconds.

"Wanna take some together?" Gally bit his lip and scooted closer without saying a word, watching (M/n) lift the Polaroid, the lens facing them, "Smile~!"

They took a few pictures, each one was placed down and they took more while they waited until the image would be revealed. Some of them were of them making funny faces, mocking each other or just smiling and squinting at the bright sunlight.

But their favourite one was definitely the one where they had turned to look at each other. (M/n) had gotten nervous at how close they were, so he apparently panicked-pressed the capture button, before frantically looking away, the same thing Gally did.

Not a single one was a bad photo, so (M/n) decided to keep them all, maybe make a collage of them later, and decorate the page with some flower doodles or hearts, he wasn't too sure, but he was not throwing these away.

After that little photo session, (M/n) wanted Gally to stay up with him and talk for a while, but the alarm announcing the Box coming up blared in the Glade, so the blond had to leave.

Gally opened the hatch, looking at him, "See ya," and without even thinking, he leaned closer to (M/n) and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek, before heading down the ladder.

Completely caught off guard, (M/n) pursed his lips to hold back a smile and a squeal that definitely wanted to come out, and basked in the feeling of his skin getting covered with goosebumps as his face heated up. He was gonna write about this day in his journal. And leave no details out.

Unknown to him, Gally stood at the bottom of the tower, covering his face with his hands, feeling just how hot his skin had gotten at the realization of giving (M/n) a kiss, even if it was something as small as a peck on the cheek, it was...

"Just a little bit of progress, it's better than nothing..." He babbled to himself, closing his hands to try and stop them from shaking so much, and he made his way to the Box, which wasn't far away from the Watchtower.

When the mechanical gate opened, they could hear sniffing coming inside, so this greenie was crying, probably scared out of his mind about where the shuck he was heading and his whereabouts, so Gally got in slowly, trying to ease the guy curled up on himself on the furthest corner of the Box.

(M/n) closed his journal, deciding to fix the pictures later in his treehouse and he scooted close to the edge, looking down at the Builders and Baggers ready to unload the Box.

"No! Get away from me!" A high-pitched voice broke the silence of the Glade, and (M/n) frowned, his sight focused on what was happening, "I don't want to! Let go of me, please-!" It was the greenie, screaming desperately from inside the Box.

He couldn't see him from where he was, but his voice sounded... Young, it cracked quite a bit while he was yelling at everyone to back away.

And Gally felt like his patience was running thin with him. The way he was hollering was gonna make his ears bleed, he needed to get the greenie out of there, right now.

"Alright, Billy! Get down 'er!" All the greenie did was scream more, fully panicked now at the sight of both males, "For the love of-!" They made their way toward him, holding his flailing arms still as they dragged him toward the edge of the box, where the rest of the guys around had picked up the rope for these kinds of situations.

They made sure the greenie was properly secured and helped push him up while the others pulled him out.

(M/n) watched them hold back and drag the greenie toward the Slammer. He couldn't see many of his features from above, but he saw the mop of chocolate curls on his head and his chubby body, before he got covered by the wall of Gladers dragging him. Even (M/n) felt how his ears were hurting with how loud and high-pitched his screams were. He was thankful he wasn't down there with the others.

A few had told him about how greenies were only taken to the pit if they had an aggressive reaction, whether it was trying to punch someone or start screaming. This was the first time he saw a greenie being taken there.

Mikah walked to the edge of the Box and looked down at both Keepers, who were awkwardly standing next to each other, "Alright, we can get started."

With a nod, both of them started taking out boxes, bags and crates.

Needless to say, (M/n) patiently waited for Gally to come out of the Box and enjoyed the view, shamelessly staring at him while his muscles flexed. And he might've... Snapped a pic or two. But no more than that.

Maybe. He can neither confirm nor deny this fact.

(M/n) continued to stay up in the tower for quite a while, busy writing the same song he had been working on, completely unaware of the time. He only snapped back when he heard his name being called.

"(M/n)! Get off your lazy ass, and come help us with the bonfire!" He cackled at the sound of Mikah's voice breaking as he called out to him, and he stood up, looking over the edge.

"Yeah, nice voice crack by the way!" All the Builders around Mikah stifled their laughter in unison, most of them masking them with a cough, except for Alec, who did laugh out loud, wearing a smirk on his face at the way the curly-haired blond glared at him.

He picked up his stuff, put everything in its bag and hung them across his chest as he made his down the tower.

"Oh, if I listen to my heart, will it lead me through the dark like a compass?" He sang quietly to himself, humming the rhythm with each gap in the song, "And if I listen to my heart, will it bring a little spark to this cold blood?"

"Whatcha singin'?" He flinched at the sound of Gally's voice coming from behind him. He was standing there, arms crossed and watching over him as he climbed down the ladder.

(M/n) turned around and shrugged, making his way to his treehouse, Gally following him, "Just a few lyrics I was writing, why?"

"Can I hear the rest?" For a moment, (M/n) was sceptical, he didn't think the song was that great yet, and he still had to fix some stuff around, but he remembered Gally had already heard him singing.

"Well... It's a work in progress, so don't laugh," Gally just gave a cheeky smile and they continued their way to the Deadheads, "I will find my place, I will fight my way, through the maze, through the maze, through the maze..." he turned to look at (M/n), his smile fading as he heard the words he uttered, "These walls are filled with rage, but I will fight my way..."

"Through the maze," Gally joining him surprised him for a second, but they sang that line two more times, wide smiles on their faces, "It's good! I'm sure the rest will love it, too."

Having arrived at this treehouse, (M/n) headed to his ladder and walked up, "Yeah... Maybe, big guy."

//////

With the bonfire ready to go, Alby gave the sign to light it up, and cheering filled the Glade. Everyone around ate and drank, chillin' for a while before the fights in the circle would start, and (M/n) was enjoying staying still for a while.

And gulping down Gally's drink, he loved it.

He also finally got to meet the greenie, a chubby kid who had a permanent blush on his round face. He seemed really cute, and also really young, he probably was around thirteen or fourteen years old, definitely making him the youngest so far.

That realization made (M/n) hate even more the people who sent a kid his age to the Glade, to a Maze full of dangerous and deadly creatures, whom the shuck thought that was a good idea? And well, he felt sorry at the fact that the poor greenie had to handle the twins and the Sloppers on his first day around, what a way to ruin the first impression of everyone else.

He got to say hi and introduce himself to the kid, before he got dragged by Doug to the circle, where of course, Gally was waiting for him.

"Ready, bean?" He sighed with a smile, and shrugged.

"Ready as ever."

He and Gally fought like it was usual, the votes split fifty-fifty on who was gonna win, but they were technically both out when Gally tripped over his own two feet and they fell outside the circle with a loud laugh. After that, everyone was eager to fight (M/n), especially Kurt who never really got his rematch.

And both of them decided they wouldn't be testing the greenie, seeing as he was sitting on a log in silence, happily eating his dinner.

They sat far away for a while, resting against one of the biggest logs, their backs turned to the bonfire while they stared into the darkness of the Glade, gazing at the stars dotting the night sky.

Gally began humming, rather quietly, but a lyric never came out. (M/n) recognized it, but he couldn't remember the words, so he simply hummed along. Sometimes he wondered why his life was so full of music, and he wondered if any songs had... Any special meaning to him, it felt like they did, why would he remember them otherwise?

"I'm so happy I met you, (M/n)..." He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed Gally's whisper, followed by the feeling of his hand gently playing with his hair.

He turned to look at him, and smiled, "I'm happy I met you too, Gally."

The blond wrapped his arm around (M/n)'s shoulders and brought him closer, their bodies pressed together as they continued watching the stars shining for a little while longer.

[moonlightblueandicegrey]

Unforgettable past part 2

Here's part one:

!!!!Warnings!!!!

Mentions of emotional and physical abuse, self harm, sexual harassment, panic attacks, traumatic moments, self hate thoughts, thoughts of suicide, anger, bad language and curse words, smoking, heavy drinking... Tell me if i forgot anything.

I warned you. The responsibility is now yours.

Summary: Jay and Kai are best friends and they haven't realise that the are actually in love with each other. Jay had a really hard time in Nadakhan's ship and although it never happened after his last wish, for him it was real. It happened. He can't forget it or get through it. It affects his everyday life and everyone notices, especially Kai. So he asks Nya (Jay's girlfriend) but the best option is to actually talk with his friend.

• The unforgettable past can be considered a second chapter for this:

Although it's not mentioned but both of them are in my script so... Yeah.

It's been three whole months since Jay made his last wish. You think he got better? You think he forgot? You think it didn't affect him just because of that wish? You are wrong. You are so wrong... Jay remembers everything. Every. Single. Thing. And it slowly eats him, it slowly destroys for good whatever left from his soul, his heart, his honour, his sanity... If there's anything left from those... He isn't sure. He doesn't even know if he is alive anymore. What is this state? He feels nothing and everything. He has never been so confused before. No hope is left for him. That's what he repeats to himself every night when everyone falls asleep and he is crying his heart out. Alone.

"A little weak,

Jay is strong. He stronger than he looks. In some people's eyes he is an annoying boy. A small, fragile, dump boy, the weakest ninja of them all. The one who didn't actually deserved to be a ninja at all. The anxious one who was panicking even with the smallest things.

pathetic,

crybaby...

That's all you've got?! I expect more... You really disappoint me little canary..."

No matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings, to bottle up all his emotions, he failed. Like always, he failed once again. He was never good enough... He was just a failure... That little "adventure" made him become his own greatest enemy. But what else could he do? What was the point of believing in himself when no one believed in him? What was the point of living when he was only annoying, unwanted... A burden.

Even for his own parents who eventually left him. He was unwanted to them.

Even for his own family who raised him when it wasn't their responsibility to do it. He was a burden to them.

Even for his girlfriend who was spending all day alone in her room. Could he blame her though? No, he couldn't. It was all his fault.

Even for his own friends who were done with him and his strange behaviour those three months. He was annoying to them.

He felt guilty. He felt deeply hurt every single time someone was talking to him and he couldn't pay attention. Every time they told him to help clean the Bounty and he had to find excuses to avoid it. Every time they asked him "what's wrong?" and he simply said "I'm fine". "I'm fine"... Ha! From all the lies he said that was his favourite. "I'm fine". Bullshit! He wasn't. But Jay was proud. Too proud to admit it. Too proud to seek help. Too hopeless to try for something better. He even avoided Master Wu's questions and ignored his wise advice. He was a coward! A liar! He didn't even deserve comfort. He was a terrible person and a bad friend. He should be ashamed.

No matter how hard he tried to hide his pain, he failed. And eventually everyone noticed that Jay wasn't himself. They didn't know why though. Obviously. They didn't remember a thing. Only Nya remembered but she didn't knew exactly what he's been through. Oh, how bad he wanted his memory to be deleted too... But the universe didn't pity him. So he was left in that world to suffer alone until his death. A death no one would remember... Why would they? He wasn't someone important anyway.

But his heart was broken. When he and Kai decided to start smoking after Zane "died" to defeat Overlord, they made a deal. But Jay broke that deal and instead of a very small amount of cigarettes, he was smoking all day. Every day. He ignored everyone's warnings. They could clearly see him change... The master of lighting lost himself eh?

If they only knew...

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

Kai couldn't stand watching his best friend sinking deeper into that mud. He wanted to help him get to the right path again... But how could he help someone if he didn't even knew the problem? He was the first one to notice his sister's and friend's changes. He wanted to help both. With his sister it was easier. But with Jay? Kai desperately wanted to know what happened while Jay was captured in that ship. He knew Jay wouldn't open his mouth no matter what though. He could be stubborn af sometimes.

Nya actually talked to him. She told him all the things she knew and all the things she'd been through. Kai was worthy of her trust. He believed her of course. And he was shocked, sad... Angry. He should have remembered all this. He should be the one to suffer instead his loved ones... No! He managed to get rid of those thoughts. He had to support his sis and his buddy, that was his first priority. After giving all the comfort he could to Nya, he left her rest and finally get some sleep after many sleepless nights. Was it too late for him to find Jay? Nah... Jay was a night owl. He would probably be awake, especially those days. But was this the right time for that talk?

Was Kai himself ready to hear Jay's pov and deal with it?

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

It was late... Morning was coming soon. Every morning since Nadakhan was just "another day i sadly woke up instead of dying" according to Jay. Another day to suffer. Oh, how badly he wanted to just fall off of the Bounty's deck... Or take a dagger and... Just a few more pills... All these thoughts were crossing Jay's mind as he was sitting in Bounty's deck, smoking and staring at the night sky. Or the void, he didn't know. They looked the same to him now.

Kai quietly left Nya's room and slowly closed the door behind him. He decided to not bother Jay for now. Yet, he had a strong feeling that Jay needed him right now. It might was his worry for his friend but what if his instinct was right? Nah... He definitely just needed some fresh air himself. The last thing he expected to see in such a cold night was the lightning master standing alone in the deck, smoking again, and just staring... Somewhere far away from this world.

His instinct was indeed right. Now, it was the right time. He shouldn't wait anymore. Kai approached Jay. He was standing so close to him, yet Jay didn't even notice him until he spoke.

Kai: Jay? We need to talk.

Jay: Kai! Hey. What is it bud?

Kai: Come on, stop acting. It's been three months man. Three fucking months! And you didn't say a word! Why?

Jay: A word about what? I don't understand you.

Kai: ... I talked to Nya. She told me what happened.

Jay: You mean- What exactly do you know?

Kai: Definitely not enough. I want to hear your side of the story.

Jay: No.

Kai: Come on... I want to help you. I want-

Jay: You can't help me Kai. It's over now, isn't it? I made the last wish. None of it actually happened, I'll get over it.

Kai: You don't seem like getting over it. Jay, please. What happened while you were captured in Nadakhan's ship? I've never see you like this before... You changed... I barely recognise you anymore!

Jay: I am the same Jay you knew! Don't worry about me, I'm fine.

Kai: Stop lying! And stop this (takes Jay's cigarette and burns it to dust). We made a deal!

Jay: (Looks directly on Kai's eyes giving him a death stare) ...Go get some sleep and leave me alone.

Kai: Look, as much as i don't want to push you i must do it. I can't just stay back and watch you destroy yourself anymore!

Jay: Why do you even care?!

Kai: Wha- What type of question is this?! You are my best friend!

Jay: Then give me some space! End this conversation and get some sleep. Leave me alone already! (Turns his back to Kai)

Kai: What about stop running away from your problems just for once in your life and talk to me instead? Even if I can't help, i might make you feel better by listening to you. Give me a chance, damn it!

And that was it. After so much time, the man with the mask, finally... Broke. Jay started crying and he would have fall on his knees if Kai wasn't there to catch him. Jay tried to push him back, but he didn't want to hurt his friend, not that he had the strength to do it anyway. His attempt to push Kai was too weak and obviously that wasn't enough for the fire master to loose his tight grip. In the end, Jay hugged Kai back and buried his head on his chest. Kai, who usually hates physical touch, couldn't care less about it. His friend needed him.

Jay's legs were shaking, his heartbeat became faster and louder, he couldn't breathe. He wanted to scream but he held back or else he would have to explain everything to everyone. Kai kept him close, hugging him tightly and trying to comfort him and help him relax. None of them noticed how long they stayed like this. None of them cared. Eventually, Jay controlled his breath and he managed to speak. But when he started speaking... He started to say things Kai didn't expect to hear. Or he didn't want to expect them.

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

Part 3 will come soon i hope.

[broodwolf221]

Happy Friday!

"i've given you plenty of opportunities to tell the truth." - from the hiding prompts - forrrrrrrr maybe Calpernia/Solas? (I'M INTRIGUED OK haha)

okay bless u for this bc i just went off the deep end these two mean?? sm to me?? it's the weirdest ship but i love them ;o; @dadrunkwriting 1354 words cws: slavery; war mention notes: trespasser spoilers & calpernia's arc spoilers

Her fury was evident as she finally approached—as he finally stopped running and let her approach.

Her chase was unending, but it had to end. She had sent her Venatori to scour the land for signs of him. Her spies. Varric’s own spies were subtle but still present, and Leliana’s were powerful and precise. The weight of the foregone Inquisition bore down upon him with a singular intent, and there were simply too many forces arrayed against him—even with the Eluvians, even with the Beyond and the Fade, he was becoming trapped. He needed someone to stop the pursuit.

Varric’s was the least threatening, and the dwarf was incredibly stubborn. Leliana would not stop so long as she drew breath, and although she presented the greatest risk, Solas would not kill her in order to stem her spies.

That left only Calpernia to dissuade. Calpernia to meet with, Calpernia to argue with. “Why,” she hissed as she approached, her expression tight with her anger. Despite all that had changed, all that had happened, she was dressed in the same armor, wore her hair in the same way… if he closed the distance between them, he thought she would smell the same, that she would feel achingly familiar in his arms.

He kept the distance. He had to.

“There is no other option,” was his paltry answer.

“There is always another option!” She snapped, and he felt the weight of her meaning crackle across the space between them. Her words were thread through with her power, a transfixing display of might and magic and anger. “You taught me that!”

“No,” he said softly, “you knew that long before you met me.” Her expression faltered then, anger giving way to grief for a brief moment… but then she took a deep breath and drew her fury back around her. A shield, a strength, a well of power to draw from.

She would not yield the day easily.

“You have always known there were other options,” he continued. “You taught yourself everything. How to read. How to wield your magic. How to change the world.”

“Like you!” He nodded, conceding the point.

“Yes. Like me. Except…” he scoffed, glancing away briefly. “You were never as naive as I was.”

“You’re being naive now!” She shouted, perhaps sensing a weakness. Perhaps accurately sensing a weakness. But he would not yield to her. He would not spoil all he had worked for, all he had still to do.

“Perhaps,” he admitted after a moment. “There is still no other option.”

“Fen’harel.” She spat the name like a curse… he supposed it was, anymore. “The deceiver. The liar. The betrayer.”

“Yes.” His voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Yes. So I was. So I am.”

“You betrayed me,” her pain overtook her anger for a moment, her voice thick. “You betrayed the Inquisition! Your friends! Why, Solas?”

The real question. One which required a real answer… or as much of one as he could give. He met her eyes once more.

“I am Fen’harel,” he confirmed again, “the Dread Wolf. When the Elvhen dominated the land, when Arlathan was the center of power in the known world, when the Fade and the Waking World were as one… that was my existence. My time.” She said nothing, staring hard at him. He was uncertain how much she had been told of his conversation with the Inquisitor, and she did not seem compelled to clarify the matter. “The Evanuris were powerful mages, but not the gods the Dalish think they were. Not gods at all. They were masters, slave-owners, who branded their people with the vallaslin.” Her face was a mask, her emotions contained. But he knew her, knew she felt this—she couldn’t fail to feel this, a slave her entire life until Corypheus “freed” her to use her.

“There had long been murmurings of rebellion,” he continued, “and in my naivete, I fueled them. I organized in secret, freed slaves, removed their vallaslin and smuggled them out of the city. In this way, I slowly amassed an army—and when we were powerful enough… when I thought we were powerful enough… we stood against the Evanuris.”

She stared at him, waiting for the rest of the story, although they both knew how it ended.

“We lost.”

“They died fighting for their own freedom,” she said and his eyes slipped shut, wanting so badly to let her words soothe him. But he could not permit it—this was his burden, his mistake. And it was hardly his only one.

“Even if they did, it was for naught. The war made the Evanuris more determined, more ruthless. They pursued a weapon that would destroy the world. To prevent it… I sundered the world.”

“And now you seek to restore it,” she concluded. So she had been told. He was not surprised—she knew the value of keeping the truth to herself, so long as it suited. Her cunning, her tactics, it was part of what he admired about her. Part of why he had grown, in time, to love her.

Such an unexpected thing, to love a human woman. But he could not deny that she had intrigued him from the start, that her drive and determination and tireless effort for her people had done nothing except inspire him. She was not always right… but when she had learned the error of her ways, the mistake of trusting Corypheus, she had turned on all she knew to stand against him. She wanted to restore her homeland to something worthwhile, to liberate the slaves, to raise them up as citizens. She used all the means at her disposal to do so.

He saw so much of himself in her, but also something so much better. She was not as jaded as he had become, not as despairing. She was lush and vibrant and so passionate it bordered on desperate.

“Yes,” he said at last.

“Then let me come,” she said and he shook his head, even knowing this was coming. Knowing it must come. Her drive, her determination, her need for restoration… of course she would want to be at his side. But she only knew the outline of his plans, and he could not condemn her to live the reality of them. To suffer the consequences alongside him.

Better that she live a life free of him, free of his influence.

“You deserve to live your own life,” he told her, watching as her fury soared again. “Not to chain yourself to mine.”

“How dare you,” she snarled, taking a step closer. “How dare you. I chain myself to nothing! I offer this willingly.”

“You do not know the gravity of your offer,” he protested and she took another step closer. He wanted to back up, wanted to flee, but instead held his ground.

“You think I followed you all this way to pledge myself to you? To bow down, become a slave to your whims?” He winced but she did not give him room to reply. “No, Solas. I have done nothing except be with you. Learn from you. And I have never prevented you from telling me this truth about yourself. There have been so many opportunities–”

Her voice broke again and his heart ached. He wanted so badly to wrap her in his arms, to press apologies against her skin, her hair, but…

“I cannot allow you to join me,” he said instead, forcing a distance in his voice that he did not feel, “and I could never tell you the truth. There is too much at stake.”

“You’re lying to yourself,” she snapped and it took everything in him to not react. To not indulge in the belief that maybe, maybe she was right, that he could allow her to stay at his side, that it would not be cruel and selfish and—

No.

“I am sorry,” he said instead, watching as her expression hardened. “Please, stop pursuing me.” With that he turned and left through the Eluvian he’d come from, although he did not miss her final response:

“No.”

[beevean]

WIP Weekend

Thank you @simonsquest for tagging me! <3

I actually started to work on a new one-shot today lol, because the Brainworms need to be fed. It's still in the skeleton stage, so there's not much to it yet.

Adrian didn’t know it was possible to miss someone who lives in the same home. His father does not count, of course. As far as Adrian is concerned, he died alongside with Mother: the beast wearing his visage has nothing to do with either of them. No, for what is worth, there is only one man he can call family. Adrian and Hector have returned to their familiar routine of nodding to each other when the pass by in a corridor, even when the Forgemaster marches alone to his destination. Perhaps it is for the best. Adrian had feared that the two wouldn’t be able to look in the other’s eye after their illicit rendezvous, but the reality is, more simply, that the both of them light up in each other’s presence, and Adrian can hear the spring in Hector’s step as he walks past. The knowledge of being a source of reprieve for his stressed brother is enough to give Adrian a reason to get out of his room; nevertheless, they must be careful around each other, lest they rouse suspicion in Isaac or, much worse, Father. Although he suspects, from time to time, that he knows. He had hoped that the two could meet up in one of the dimmest corners of the library, where even monsters seek quiet, but it seems that Hector is being drowned under more and more deplorable work; Adrian can only pray that the dark shadows weighing under his eyes are only due to lack of sleep, and not lack of blood. If one person has to be spared from the Lord’s ire, may it be him, the person who deserves it the least. (“Of course he saw the mark, but I told him you were sick and needed me,” Hector reassured him one day, stealing precious seconds from his work for Adrian’s sake. “He chastised me for not being careful, but he let the matter go.” “Did he truly believe you?” “He had to. His only other option would have been to question you. And admit he was not there for you when you needed him.”)

uhhhhh I tag @curse-of-darkness @dreadblades @kachimera @legendarybelmont @monochromatictoad and anyone else who feels like sharing <3

[too-destiny-panda]

Day 10: Tav

A/N: I feel like this is a little all over the place (just like me when I see Wyll content), but I really can't be normal about my Tav and Wyll together. Prompts belong to @sagscrib

WC: 895

Out of all the things the Blade of Frontiers expected to encounter on this journey to rid himself of the illithid tadpole he had been forced to let into his skull, admiration was not one of those things. Fear, disgust, occasional laughter, and ridiculous moments, maybe even pride, sure. But admiration so deep it almost crossed into the practically uncharted territory of adoration? No. It was so far down the list of options he didn’t even consider it one. How foolish of him, with all those story books he used to rea, he really should have known better than to assume such emotions wouldn’t fins a way to wriggle themselves into the midst of life-threatening events.

Hi first encounter with Tav was rather eventful, as he joined forces with a group of strangers to ward off a band of goblins. Usually, such a small number of enemies would pose no problems to him, but since his infection, he found himself weaker than before his pact. And in the way some of the newcomers seemed to struggle with their spellcasting or footwork, as if their muscle memory was forcing them to do something they were no longer capable of doing, it was clear he wasn’t the only one. Of course, he didn’t connect the dots until after their parasites so rudely interrupted their introductions for the sake of uncalled for mind reading.

When he had joined their party, he was still neutral about the unspoken leader. He had no information about them other than some kind interactions with the children he witnessed them take part in before talking to him, and although it let him know they weren’t entirely heartless, he witnessed many instances where a villain had a soft spot for children and still did horrible things. It wasn’t until their goodness was projected in a consistent way did he let himself take a more open liking to them.

At first, he thought nothing of how close they were getting, believing it to be camaraderie between two people in a dire situation trying to make the best of it. Sure, they were good-looking, but having eyes didn’t mean he was looking in that way. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself, anyways. Still, he was glad to call them a friend, even more so after he was punished for doing the right thing and had his entire physiology changed because of it. They were there to make him feel better, even offering (in his eyes), empty flattery, that still alleviated some of the darker thoughts plaguing his mind.

And then he began to catch himself admiring them, truly seeing the person behind those kind words and heroic actions worthy of song. And he didn’t mean that in a bad way, oh most certainly not. He simply began to notice details about them that fit into their personality like puzzle pieces. Details that maybe new friends wouldn’t notice. Like the way they had a penchant for nature jewellery. Such as the sunflower earing they always kept in a small pouch on them, or the bracelet that seemed to imitate blueberries they tucked under their armour. The way they always smiled at the sight of an animal and did some baby talk under their breath before catching themselves, looking around to make sure no-one hear that. He always managed to look away just in time.

The way they would move in a way intimately familiar to him from all his dance lessons. Their slight accent that no-one seemed to be able to place. The complaints and curses they would mutter in what he assumes were several different languages as they tried to unsuccessfully weave a flower crown for Silfy. All those things added up until he laid awake in his tent one night, contemplating when friendship and mutual respect became a want, a desire for something more. When he began to wish for kisses under the moonlight, for the feel of their hand in his as they sat around the campfire. He tossed and turned, trying to banish such loving and decidedly unfriendly thoughts from his mind. He didn’t sleep much that night.

They never talked much about themselves, only a few mentions of their previous life here and there, more set on helping and listening to their companions, no matter how differently they viewed the world. It was clear they had some basis in diplomacy with he way they defused the situation between him and Karlach, and how they managed to keep Shadowheart and Lae’zel from killing each other. He pegged Tav for a city person, possible upper class due to their equipment of the finest quality, but their knowledge about nature, survival, and basic medicine, as well as their frugality, told a different story. When they began summoning a hawk to their shoulder, he became quite confused, the world of nobles and rangers clashing once again to make up the lovely person in front of him.

And it wasn’t until they danced together, until they held each other for comfort in the Shadow cursed lands where they whispered fond memories to alleviate the thought of their surroundings and he drifted off to sleep, did he have a passing thought that they reminded him of someone. At a masquerade, where the most enchanting dance partner he ever had laughed as they said they loved sunflowers.