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phoebepheebsphibs · 6 months ago

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Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 35: Monster

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

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Leo readies his twin katanas. Raph raises his sai. Donatello points the end of his bō staff in Chaplin's direction.

"You," Donnie growls. "What. Have you done. With our brother."

Chaplin smiles.

"What haven't I done is a better question," he jokes. "I've improved him. Though, let's be honest... with your kind, improvement isn't enough."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?!" Leo spits at him.

"It means that the Yokai and the mutants are... how shall I put this..."

"What, a disease? A cancer? A deformity? I've seen the movies with the evil villains who want to eradicate a species, I know this bullcrap speech!" Leo snarks at him.

"No no, you misunderstand. Your people are quite talented and impressive!" Chaplin says with a grin. "I've studied your cultures, your biology, your abilities. I've travelled the world and seen many Yokai cities. But you are a threat. And I won't allow any threats to humanity. Alien or otherwise."

"So, then why the mutations?" Raph asks. "Why do so many cruel experiments?? If you hate mutants so much, why make more?"

"Quite simple, really," Chaplin explains, lifting his legs and recrossing them the other way around. "We've been trying to fight fire with fire. To destroy the mutants and the Yokai, we had to make some of our own. Though, our experiments continuously failed us. We were missing some crucial element, the secret ingredient that allows you to function and survive and have incredible supernatural abilities -- until we found your Mikey."

Leo hears Raph growl from behind him.

"He is quite resilient, your brother. So much stronger than we expected! And that was even before we mutated him! His potential is practically unlimited."

"Why would you subject him to this?!" Donnie hisses. "What was the purpose of this room?! Why make him fight?!"

"Three reasons," Chaplin explains calmly. "One: we needed to see his abilities in action, and the extent of those abilities. Two: it was a way to train his problem-solving skills. We knew he was strong and powerful, but we also needed to confirm he had intelligence. None of our other experiments were advanced in the mind. Far from it, they seemed to deteriorate rapidly."

"...What was the third reason?" Donnie asks with hesitance.

"Oh, yes. Waste management."

Leo glares at the scientist.

"What."

"Well, we'd been doing quite a number of experiments, and they were piling up. We were running out of space, supplies, food, etc. And they were all disappointments. True, they had interesting new abilities and enhanced strength, but they were disgusting failures in the end, and we had to free up some space to try again with new vermin. So we had to eradicate the excess mutants, and Mikey was a big help with that."

Raph stomps forward.

"You're... you're a sick, twisted, sadistic MONSTER!"

"I'm a man who is working towards a goal," Dr. Chaplin corrects.

"What does Mikey have to do with it? How does he accomplish your goal?!" Leo shouts. "How does kidnapping my baby brother help you?!"

"Mikey is a weapon," he explains, leaning back nonchalantly. "MY weapon. He is indestructible, powerful, his instincts are impeccable, and he can take orders. He's the perfect living weapon, and he will help me eradicate every threat to humanity."

"You can't turn our brother into a weapon!" Leo shouts.

"Yeah, that was my idea!" Donnie chimes in, though Raph smacks him upside the head in frustration. "Ow! Right, right, not the time..."

Leo saunters up to the mad scientist and presses a katana against his neck.

"Now. WHERE. IS. MIKEY?! What have you done with him?!"

"Oh, of course!" Dr. Chaplin laughs. "Don't worry, he's right here..."

Dr. Chaplin taps a button on the side of the chair, and a panel in the wall opens.

From the darkness, two glowing yellow and red eyes can be seen peering at them. Slowly, Mikey steps out, staring blankly at his brothers.

"Mikey!" Leo gasps, releasing Dr. Chaplin and rushing over to his baby brother. "You're okay! Come on, we're getting out of here and--"

Leo takes Mikey's hand and pulls, but Mikey refuses to move.

".......Mikey...?"

"I'm afraid he can't hear you," Chaplin huffs.

Leo turns to glare at Dr. Chaplin. He suddenly notices the headband crowning him, the bright pink lights that adorn the sides. How had he not seen it before?!

Leo steps away from Mikey, staring in fear as he realizes what's about to happen.

"Mikey... no..."

"Wonderful little gadget, this!" Dr. Chaplin brags. "Can work up to a three mile radius in all directions. It's based on Krang technologies and biologies."

"B-biology...?" Raph whimpers, hand going to his eye once again.

"Oh yes. We learned a lot from the infected zombies. This machine combines a severed part of the brain from that one alien we captured. I'm assuming I have you four to thank for that..."

"Her... brain?" Leo gawks. "You took her brain?"

"Oh, don't act like that is some terrible and horrific thing after all they tried to do!" Dr. Chaplin groans. "You honestly can't say that you're not relieved that 'she' is dead now. And besides, the real person you have to thank for this machine is actually your own brother!"

Leo, Donnie, and Raph simultaneously turn to look at Mikey.

"You see, he showed us something we never expected -- Mikey could control the zombies. That was when we realized, there was a hierarchy to the Krang -- the zombies were the omegas, and Mikey was the beta, hence why they followed his commands. The Krang were the alphas, and as such could control all of them easily. That was what we needed with Mikey. During of our evaluations, some of our staff psychiatrists discovered that Mikey had an alternate persona that activated during moments of intense emotion or physical distress. It was strong, forceful, and wasn't afraid to go for the kill. But he was also stubborn and dangerous, and refused to comply willingly. We needed a way to have Mikey be the monster while also listening to instructions. And so I created a way to mimic the Krang brain waves so as to control him."

"You... you beat him," Donnie heaves. "I saw the video, you tortured him..."

"That was for a reason," Dr. Chaplin insists. "I needed to see if he would follow orders to a tee, even if it meant physical harm."

Donnie heaves again.

"And he did superbly; his compliance was wonderful. A perfect living weapon that will follow orders unto death! Speaking of which --"

"D-don't do it, don't listen to him --" Leo tries, reaching for his baby brother.

"Mikey," Dr. Chaplin orders, "If you would be so kind as to dispatch these intruders for me."

Mikey glares at his brothers. His mouth curls into a snarl, his irises slit into thin lines. He places himself in a ready stance, claws elongated and ready to fight. His tail whips around him, the tip spiking like a mace.

"Mikey, please, I-I don't wanna fight you!" Leo begs. He doesn't want to go through this again... not again...

Mikey rushes forwards.

Raph pulls Leo away and shields him, holding his arms up and activating his ninpo. Large holographic arms cover over him, protecting him from Mikey's onslaught. Mikey lunges and starts biting the hologram, tearing it apart piece by piece with his sharp claws and talons. He sinks his fangs into them; they go so deep they nearly puncture Raph's actual arm.

Donnie's robot arms protrude from his battle-shell, grab Mikey from behind, and yank him off of Raph. Mikey shrieks angrily and turns back to attack Donnie.

"Mikey, snap out of it!" Donnie yells.

Mikey screeches and slashes his claws at him. Donnie reels back, dropping his brother as he guards himself. Mikey slashes his tail and several projectile spines fly at him. Donnie twirls his staff and hastily creates a shield, deflecting them at the last second. Raph wraps his ninpo arms around Mikey, who struggles against him. He howls and yowls. The cries sound desperate, scared --

"M-Mikey?" Raph gasps. "Wait, did I hurt you--"

"Raph, no, don't--!"

Raphael drops Mikey, afraid that he may have held him too tight. Mikey instantly turns on him and attacks, his tail slashing at the ankles and knocking him down. Raph yells in pain as he falls, clutching the wound and trying to stop the bleeding.

"Mikey!" Leo scolds. "Snap out of it!!"

The double-mutant turns and glares at Leo. He's next.

"Dee, keep him distracted, I'm going to take out the controller!" Leo hisses.

Donnie nods, and creates a series of mini missiles to fire at (and purposefully miss) Mikey, as Leo creates a portal and slips through.

The portal reopens and appears right behind Dr. Chaplin. Leo reaches for the headset before being swatted away by the mad scientist. He says nothing, but the string of pink glowing lights around his head indicate he's given another order. Mikey is by his side in an instant, pouncing on Leo and crashing him to the floor. Mikey bares his teeth and tries to bite him, but Leo narrowly blocks with his katana hilt. Mikey chomps down on it, growling as he tries to pull it away.

A mini missile strikes him in the back, and he turns to roar at Donnie.

"Mikey, you have to ignore whatever he's telling you to do! Wake up! It's US!!" Donnie shouts.

Mikey has had enough of their antics. His eyes burn bright, a series of scales on his neck lift up, revealing what almost looks like gills. They vibrate, charging up with a pink and orange glow. Mikey roars loudly, deafening the entire room. Visible sound waves pulse like giant ripples, throwing everyone off balance.

Donatello is knocked back, slamming into Raphael with a thud and a groan as the mystic shockwaves dissolve his hologram weapons, and disintegrate Raph's armour.

Leo watches as the portal he made evaporates, the markings on his arms and legs flicker out before dimming.

N-no... no, not again --!

Mikey jumps to Donnie and starts to attack. Raph shields him again, but Mikey snaps his teeth and bites down hard on his forearm. Raphael screams, shaking and waving his arm as he tries to get his baby brother to release. Donnie grabs Mikey and pulls. Mikey turns to snarl at him before wrapping his tail around his neck, placing him in a chokehold. Mikey grabs his two hands and clasps them together between his talon grip, essentially cuffing him. Donnie gags and gasps, sputtering as he slowly turns blue.

"Mikey!" Raph screams. "L-let him go--"

Mikey whirls around, maneuvering in such a way that he throws Donnie's body at Raph's head. The two crash to the floor. Mikey regains his stranglehold on Donnie as Raph tries to get back up. Mikey doesn't give him the chance, and punches him between the eyes, knocking him unconscious. Donnie slowly goes limp as well, his eyes rolling back in his head as he chokes-out. Mikey releases him once he's certain he also has succumbed.

He turns to face his last adversary.

"Mikey," Leo whimpers. "I-I know you don't want to hurt me. And I don't want to hurt you..."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Dr. Chaplin laughs. "He won't give you the chance."

Mikey rushes him, gaining speed before leaping and kicking Leo in the chest, crashing him into the wall behind him. The tiles and panels leading to hidden rooms crack from the impact, leaving a gaping crater. Leo coughs and holds his side, looking up just in time to see Mikey do a spin kick before the side of his foot collides with his head.

Mikey slips into the vents easily. The EPF should really work on their security, any nutcase could break in!

He crawls around, going deeper and deeper into the ventilation systems, floor after floor after floor. Every once in a while he can hear some animals crying and growling and barking loudly. He shudders at the thought of what they could be doing to these poor guys...

He pushes on.

Mikey hears a snarling sound, eerily familiar. It's animalistic, but not like any animal on Earth. It's alien.

He peeks through the vents to see the EPF men taking the krangified dude he saw from earlier into a lift. It's perfect luck that the angle of the vents lets him see the elevator room, a mirror glass on the back wall reflecting everything. He can see their reflections, he can see the button they pressed -- The very bottom floor.

Mikey goes in pursuit of them. He has to know what they're going to do with that poor man...

Mikey's almost there when his phone buzzes again. Probably Leo or Donnie, they've been calling him a lot. He picks it up and checks the lockscreen. Oh, it's Raph! Mikey guesses he wants to know where he is... He should have left a note or something. He answers.

"Shello?" He whispers.

"Mikey? Where are ya?!" Raph hisses at him. "I thought we said no inside stuff!"

"I saw a weird van pull up," he explains. "They took a krangified person in through the back."

"They what?" Raph sounds terrified. Mikey can't blame him, not after everything that has happened.

"Yeah, I know. I wanted to see what they were gonna do with him."

Because that's what heroes do! Mikey thinks to himself. That's what Raph always says, and that's what he expects him to say. Instead he's met with a panicked and desperate command.

"Mikey, I think you should get outta there."

That's not like Raph, why is he so scared? Sure, the place is creepy, but no creepier than when they broke into Draxum's lab that first time...

"I will in just a sec," Mikey responds, having finally made it to the bottom floor vents. "I think I found the room where..."

Mikey's voice trails off as he sees the entirety of the basement. It's a little dim, but there are a few lights here and there. Mikey flips the vent flaps open just a bit more for a better view. It looks like some kind of secret lab. Why is this lab separate from the rest upstairs? What's different about this one, apart from the colour scheme?

The krangified victim is strapped to a chair, several scientists standing beside him and a few guards with special futuristic-looking weapons pointed at him.

"Huh..."

"Mikey? Mikey, what is it?" Raph's voice hisses nervously through the phone's tinny speakers.

"I'm not sure... hold on a sec, 'kay?" Mikey whispers as he watches. He puts Raph on mute, just to be safe.

The scientists are talking about something as they operate on the guy, pulling pieces of krang flesh off bit by bit. Mikey can't hear much, just the occasional "Hold him still," "Be careful," "Not too much," etc. They're... curing him?

Mikey watches as a doctor takes a vial of the bright blue liquid April found. Guess these guys found it, too. Donnie made sure to release the formula publicly so the police could help save the infected people. The scientist fills a syringe with mixture, then inject it into a part of the krang on the guy's face. The krang screeches in agony, the flesh flailing and wriggling.

"Now!" he hears one of the doctors yell.

The scientists pull the flesh away, ripping it off of his face.

The guy yells, his eyes roll in the back of his head, and he flops over in his chair. One of the guards checks his pulse.

"He's alive."

Mikey sighs with relief.

"Good, now get him out of here before he wakes up," one of the doctors orders.

The man is slowly unbuckled from the chair and carried away by two of the guards, the other two remaining.

"Now, let's get this thing into storage for the next batch of test subjects," the head scientist says, taking the still-alive-but-barely krang parasite away and placing it in a jar.

Mikey crawls a bit more through the vents, trying to follow the scientists to wherever they store the parasite. How many more do they have??

Mikey gasps when he sees the centerpiece of the labs -- a giant cylinder tube housing the Krang Sister, her eye still melted from where April attacked her. She looks thin, wrinkly and emaciated. Her left eye is still intact and open, but unfocused. He can almost see her breathing if he watches hard enough. But there are parts of her missing, torn off, cut off, melted off, take your pick.

There's a cryogenic freezer cabinet or something housing her organs and severed limbs, along with so many other krang parasites. Bits of pink and pale purple flesh, teeth and fangs, claws and talons and nails... He sees a jar of just eyeballs, krang eyeballs... he recognizes a few from the traincar that attacked him and Donnie!

"Ohmigosh," he whimpers, unmuting Raphael. "Okay, that's enough for me, I'm coming out now!"

"Mikey?! What did you see, what's going on?" Raph asks, his voice high and shaking.

Mikey doesn't respond at first, he's trying to crawl away as fast as possible. He lifts up his phone to try and tell Raph what he saw, but his fingers slip and it falls. Mikey's heart stops as the device clangs and clatters against the metal with a hideous echo. He can hear the scientists start yelling.

"What was that?!"

"Something's in the vents!"

"Call security, we have a breach!"

Mikey quickly scrambles to get his phone, he starts crawling with lightning speed, not trying to be quiet anymore as his kneepads smack loudly against the panels. He knows Raph heard what just happened.

"I dropped my phone," Mikey whimpers into the device. "I think they heard me."

"GET OUT NOW!" Raph yells at him.

"I am! I AM!" Mikey whines, terrified.

He should never have come in here, what was he thinking?! If they find him --

There's a clicking sound from his phone as another voice joins the call.

"Raph? What's going --"

"Mikey's been made," Raph says in a hurry.

"Get out of there, now!" the voice shouts.

"Leo?" Mikey whispers nervously. "Is that you?"

"Mikey, we're on our way now," Leo informs him. His voice is stern, but smooth, feigning frenzied calmness as he tells Mikey what to do. "Just get out as fast as you can! Don't worry about whether or not you're seen, just get out!"

"I'm trying!" Mikey yells back, desperate not to let the sound of his tears come through the speaker. He turns a corner in the ducts, coming to a small fork in the road. Wait, which way did he come from? Which way gets him out of here?!

"I'm stuck in the vents!!" he realizes out loud, hoping somehow his brothers will help him -- maybe Donnie can look up the building plans and use that subdermal tracker to guide him, or Leo can make a portal, or --

Something pushes against Mikey's chest, slamming him into the top of the vent. One of the guards shoved the barrel of their weird gun thing into him and is trying to knock him down! The panels underneath him start to shake, the duct comes loose from Mikey's weight and the jabbing of the guards.

Mikey screams as the section he's trapped in falls to the floor. His phone hits the ground and bounces just out of his reach.

He looks up in terror and sees that he is surrounded by six or so people.

"There he is!"

"Get him!"

"Come'ere, kid!"

Mikey shrieks, trying to scramble away. His legs are grabbed by a scientist on the end as the guards rush and nearly tackle him, trying to secure his arms.

"Let me go! Stop! Leave me alone!" he begs, trying to wrench himself free.

Mikey kicks, shoving the scientist back and forcing himself up, lifting the security guards who have practically dogpiled him.

Mikey struggles under their weight, and reaches for his nunchucks. He's kneed in the gut by one of the guards, knocking the wind out of him and he falls, face mashing into the floor.

He can hear the cell phone, he can hear Raph and Leo shouting for him, yelling instructions or pleas for him to get to safety.

"Raph! Leo!" He screams, reaching frantically for his phone.

He just catches them shouting back to him before one of the scientists can smash his heel into the device, breaking it into pieces.

"NO!" Mikey yells, struggling against the men who hold him down.

"Keep it still," one of the lab coats say, grabbing a syringe with clear liquid in it.

Mikey growls as he pries an arm out from under their weight, shoving and pushing as best he can. His hand is grabbed by one of the scientists, the one who broke his phone.

"Let me go!" he yells. "Let me go! I wanna go home!"

"You should have thought of that before you trespassed on government property," says the scientist.

"What?! Who are you people?! What is this place?!" Mikey demands.

"A better question is, what are you?"

The doctor with the needle kneels down beside Mikey's head.

"Hold him still," he orders the others.

A hand is pressed against Mikey's head, shoving him down into the linoleum floor as hard as he can. Mikey shouts and screams in protest as the needle is stabbed into his neck.

It stings, the sharp pain masking over the feeling of the instant anesthetic being injected into his veins. He leans his head as far away as he can, trying to keep away... k-keep away fr-from... the... ttthhhhhe.......

Mikey is flooded with the oddest sensation of panicked anxiety meddled with forced calm as the anesthetic takes effect. It ends up giving him the biggest feeling of butterflies in his stomach, fluttering up into his head and through his limbs, making them light as a feather yet heavier than lead. His thoughts swirl messily, trying to stay tethered to reality...

A countdown starts in him. Mikey's limbs slow, relax, fall limp against the cold linoleum tiles. The tears in his eyes slip loose and drip down his cheeks. His breathing is deep and sluggish, he clicks his tongue and whimpers as he tries to make some kind of last attempt or argument to save himself. Mikey's eyes flutter closed... he vaguely registers the men climbing off of him and lifting him up, a doctor giving orders to carry him somewhere... Mikey mumbles a sleepy protest before his tongue and vocal chords seem to disappear... Everything disappears... Everything goes dark...

Where did Mikey go...?

Where are his brothers...?

Where is the world now... where... where are his dreams...?

It's all inky black void. It's all deep and mindless sleep.

Mikey has vanished.

Mikey's head rolls groggily as he comes back to reality.

Feeling seeps back into him, though his head is numb and still exhausted from the drug.

He can't move. His limbs are tired. And there's something cold and heavy against his wrists and ankles. Leathery straps tie him down by the waist and thighs and across the shoulders.

He slowly starts to register sight and sound, as a painfully blinding light is shined in his face.

"Ah, it's awake," a voice says. Mikey recognizes it as one of the doctors from the secret basement...

Mikey grumbles softly, squinting his eyes shut tightly and turning away from the light.

"Mmnngh... too bright," he mumbles in discomfort.

"Since you can speak, that means you can answer a few questions for me," the voice says.

Mikey can't see anything apart from the blinding light being shined in his face. He peeks one eye open and immediately regrets it; the light burns his retina and leaves spots in his vision.

"First off, what are you?" the scientist demands.

Mikey groans again.

"C-could you maybe turn the light off? I can't think straight with the full force of the sun in my eyes," Mikey half-jokes. Somebody has to fill in for Leo.

There is a huff of a dry laugh, followed by the dimming of the light. Mikey opens his eyes slowly, adjusting to the new level of brightness. There are a group of scientists in the room, each one staring and glaring at Mikey.

"Uh, hi, guys," he chuckles nervously. "What's the happs?"

"The 'happs' is that you broke into a government sanctioned facility for genetic studies," says an elderly doctor with frazzled white hair. "That's... well, that's illegal."

"And kidnapping isn't?" Mikey challenges. "I saw that guy you took. I saw what you did to him."

"We saved him," one of the doctors growls. "We were able to take the alien infection away from him --"

"You stabbed him with a needle and harvested the krang parasite!" Mikey argues. "And then you just took his body away!"

"He's alive," the elderly doctor says. "He's alive and well and back in his right mind!"

"Professor Honeycutt, if you wouldn't mind?" one of the other doctors grumbles. "We're in the middle of an interrogation..."

"O-oh, yes, right..." the elderly professor says meekly, cowering away.

"Now, how do you know about the -- what did you call it? Kang?"

"The Krang?" Mikey answers, confused. "That's... that's what they are. Didn't you know that? You've got the Krang Sister downstairs in your creepy cellar dungeon thing!"

"So, you DID see it," the younger doctor says. "Well then. That means you can't leave."

"What?!" Mikey gasps. "W-wait a sec --"

"Dr. Chaplin will be arriving soon, and what will we tell him when he discovers that there was a breach in security?! There have been setbacks after setbacks, and we have yet to provide a successful mutation --"

The doctor turns to contemplate Mikey. Mikey swallows nervously.

Uh oh.

"...I say we try it out on this one," the young doctor snickers before turning to the rest. "Prep him."

"Prep?" Mikey echoes. "P-prep for what...?"

"Do you realize what you're saying?!" the man called Honeycutt asks, pulling the younger man's arm away. "No, that's -- that's a horrid suggestion, Timothy! We can't just operate on -- he's a kid!"

"He's a freak of nature, look at him!" 'Timothy' shouts at the frail old man. "He's probably one of those mutant monsters that's been running feral on the streets these past two years. I don't see why we shouldn't."

"He's a sentient being! He has a higher intelligence than one of the rats or rabbits -- it would be inhumane!"

"Does he look human to you?" Timothy asks.

Mikey's heart is pounding in his chest.

"W-wait, please, I-I -- please, don't do this," Mikey begs. "I'm not a monster!"

"Maybe not now," Timothy says with a wicked smile. "But you will be."

The doctors place masks on their faces and gloves on their hands as they get ready. Mikey's head is strapped down and the light turned back on to its fullest extent, blinding him again.

"Wait!" Mikey screams. "Wait! I-I've got lots of other interesting things to talk about! I can tell you where the Krang came from, how we defeated them -- Please! You can't do this! Don't do this!!"

"I wash my hands of this," the older doctor says. "I won't have any part of this ridiculous madness.... I'm staying out of it."

"If you don't like it, then you can go back to working on your little robot pet 'Sal' of yours, or that android 'Ms. Campbell'," Dr. Timothy replies drably.

Mikey sobs in terror as the chair he's strapped to is lowered even further so the doctors can operate on him. Odd circular metallic suctions are pressed against his temples and cranium.

"Please! No! No!"

"You know, most of the mutations don't take very well, but considering you're already a mutie, that may mean you could survive this," Dr. Timothy teases. "I'm excited to see how your biology will react..."

"NO!!!" Mikey shrieks.

Mikey's ninpo starts to activate, the marks on his arms glowing as he struggles to pull himself free. One hand shatters a cuff.

"Hold him down!!" Dr. Timothy yells.

As Mikey is shouting and shrieking, one of the scientists lunges at him and holds his arm down.

A second doctor takes advantage of the fact that Mikey's mouth is open and starts shoving a tube down his throat. Mikey almost chokes on it as he struggles.

Mystic chains start to fill the room, a golden glow builds.

"Start it!! NOW!" Timothy shouts.

The doctor who shoved the tube down Mikey's throat pulls a lever connected to a big metal container. Pink and green glowing ooze starts flowing through, filtering into Mikey's mouth.

Mikey watches in terror, screaming muffled cries as he waits for the vile slime to pour through his throat and infiltrate his body.

It's cold and slick and slimy. As soon as it enters into him, Mikey's body starts convulsing. He howls, shrill and high and blood-curdling and despairing and pained. His body jerks every which way as it tries to reject the profane concoction.

The glow on his arms flickers out.

The golden chains in the room shatter and crumble away to dust.

Mikey is sobbing, tears streaming down his face as he tries to get free, tries to spit the tube out, tries to vomit up the ooze he's being force-fed. He doesn't notice the doctors preparing injection-devices by his neck, filling several vials and test tubes with different colored liquids and DNA samples. A soft mechanical whirring sounds, and cold metal clamps are pressed against his throat.

"Now!" Dr. Timothy shouts above the noise.

Mikey's world turns into a hurricane of static and unbearable pain as electrical charges course through him via the suctions pressed on his forehead. Needles pierce his skin and fill his veins with sludge and poison.

Mikey screams like he's never screamed before.

His body becomes a living x-ray, glowing bright blue from how much voltage he's taking. His skeleton is showing through the lights against a black silhouette. His body snaps and breaks and reforms. He can feel himself dying and coming back to life over and over again as he is morphed into something horrid, terrible, cruel.

Mikey blacks out. One last mercy his body bestows upon him, thankfully.

Mikey wakes up in agonizing pain. His limbs are a tangled, sloppy mess underneath him.

He can't move yet.

He can barely think.

All he can do is breathe and cry. The tears burn against his cheeks.

The position he's lying in gives his tortured limbs a numb buzz of pins and needles. Mikey tries to sit up, but trips over his arms and legs.

He doesn't know how to move them anymore.

They hurt too much. He can't feel them, but every movement he makes sends a rippling effect of horrid pain throughout his body.

There's something in here with him. A snake... a serpent... it slithers away from him. The slithering hurts... it... is it part of him...?

Mikey's eyes flutter open and closed as he fights to stay awake... and then fights to fall back asleep, be put out of his misery and just be unconscious. He doesn't want to hurt anymore.

His throat feels like it was mangled, burned, crushed.

His eyes sting like acid was poured into the tear ducts.

His hands ache, the palms are cut from where he dug his sharp nails and claws into them.

His feet must be disfigured, as far as he can tell.

His back is broken, the shell is shattered and cracked; he can feel air filtrating inside it.

But his head hurts the most. It is heavy and impossible to lift up. It aches and stings and pounds in a hundred different ways. His ears are stuffed up and ringing loudly. He's dizzy and disoriented. He's... so confused and lost... he doesn’t know how he got here. He doesn’t know what happened to him, or why he's hurting, or what he did to deserve this...

He doesn't know why he's longing for someone to hold him.

Someone that is blue. Or red. Or purple.

He's... he's unsure what those shadows dancing in his mind are, who those silhouettes belong to. But they mean something. They'll be coming for him, soon.

How he knows this, he isn't sure.

But he's a little scared for when they do find him...

Because, while he doesn’t know much...

...He knows he isn't 'Mikey' anymore.

He tries to sit up again. He somehow manages to do it, for two full seconds, before almost passing out again and falling to the floor of the cage, hitting his head against the metal.

Don't try to get up, Instinct whispers. Don't move yet. Rest. No moving, just rest. I will protect us now.

Mikey doesn't need to be told that twice...

His eyes slip shut.

Prev || Next

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shinzomixotapes · 5 months ago

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IDK

Anyways names: Harp(Radiohusk kid), Volin(Radiostatic kid), Allie(Radioapple kid), Villan(Vals kid)

#hazbin hotel #teehee #weezer #radiohusk #radiostatic #radioapple #And no ship for Val #I HAVE THEIR NAMES #harp has daddy issues #So dose volin #Allie has trauma #And Villan has family issues #Harp and volin hate their dads #Angsty teenagers

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lavendernhoney · 11 months ago

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What’s your favorite “extremely angsty 16 year old boy” thing that Zuko did?

My favorites are scream at god to just strike him with lighting already, and “WHAT ARE YOU OLD GASBAGS TALKING ABOUT?”

#Zuko #atla #avatar the last airbender #he was just like me at 16 for real #do you think he would listen to awolnation and fall out boy and think he’s so so edgy for it #trying to be a good boyfriend #but being a really really terrible one is pretty high on the list too #like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders #and so much trauma #but also he’s canonically pretty short like he hasn’t even hit his teenage boy growth spurt yet #he’s just short and angsty teen boy aldhskdhs

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aroaessidhe · 4 months ago

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2024 reads / storygraph

Girls Night

YA contemporary

four unlikely girls are thrown together and decide start a fight club at their girls school, and quickly become friends

but things start to get out of control, putting their friendships and safety at risk, and they must decide whether to keep hold of the club or each other

4 POVs, all sapphic, a deaf MC

#girl's night #i.s. belle #this is a good fast paced rapidly escalating teen movie kind of book.#like a movie it very much immediately gets into it; and also ends quickly - it doesn’t dwell on details and background things that much #they all have some angsty backstory/trauma that isn’t explored super in depth #also it does get a bit unhinged in places LMAO #as with all her books there’s some really good relationship dynamics; both platonic and romantic!#It does feel like something that was first drafted by a teenager as mentioned in the author’s note!#friend group giving me scrapegracers vibes (but less intense - some same ingredients but different flavour kind of thing lol)#i do wish the word lesbian would be used #like Clem is clearly butch but neither word is used…..only an issue for me because unfortunately it’s a very common trend to avoid both of #but yeah I enjoyed it!#aroaessidhe 2024 reads

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1-8oo-wtfbro · 8 months ago

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why didn’t Zuko do something actually productive during his banishment. like write the alta version of the divine comedy.

#he could’ve poetically trauma dumped on SO MANY PPL. the LORE he would’ve created out of his teenage angst would’ve changed the world #the world doesn’t need the avatar. it needs the author of Love Amongst Dragons leading Zuko thro hell.#he would’ve (accidentally) put so much Ozai=devil=tortured children and tormented sons=evil in there #and literally ended the fire nation. there. i said it. everyone would be quoting his work and it would literally be argued ab by scholars #til the end of time and all bc Iroh was going thro Zuko’s shit and found a whole ass angsty manuscript (that was never meant to see the #light of day) and sent it around to all his friends (the white lotus) bc look at what his nephew wrote! he’s a little writer!!! so much #talent!!!!!#and they would read it and be like ‘god? is that you??’#atla #zuko

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donationwayne · 7 months ago

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Feelin' Good (Could Be Better) || Buddie || 10/10 Chapters || 24.6k words

Hi, I just realized I never made a post for the full work since I completed this a month or two back, so I thought I'd give it a little post!

SUMMARY

The Buckley parents unexpectedly visit, turning Buck's already shaky mental status from precarious to impossibly worse. Buck joins Maddie, Chimney, and his parents for a dreadful dinner. We take a little look into Buck's childhood through a series of flashbacks. And Buck is super fine thanks for asking, he'll just bake about it. And think about kissing Eddie, obviously. There's a family barbecue in attempt to keep the Buckley's on their best behavior. It doesn't really work. SNIPPET

Before he has a chance to make an attempt at opening the door, it flies open to reveal May, who stares at their offerings in disbelief and bewilderment. “How many more people are coming?” May asks, dazed. “We’re the last ones,” Eddie replies, amused. May takes the cookies off his hands and follows them to the kitchen. “Good Lord, Buck,” Athena exclaims, torn between horror and amusement. “He bakes when he’s anxious.” Eddie offers. “Maybe next time, just book an extra therapy session.” May teases. Buck, who is standing by the sink, grabs the hose attachment and sprays her with it, earning a shrieking laugh. “Don’t even try me, Grant,” Buck threatens. “You’re cleaning that up,” Athena informs Buck, who is already grabbing a towel to soak the water up from the floor. “I’ll tell Bobby you two made it inside.” Athena hesitates. “Everyone is already here. And your sister is babysitting your parents.” Buck nods, smoothing down his shirt. “Right.” Chimney darts inside, holding onto his glass for dear life, looking like a man in desperate need of a buoy. “Booze?” He blurts at Athena, who gestures towards the fridge. “That bad?” Eddie asks in amusement. "Oh, thank God, you’re here. It's almost your turn for babysitting duty.” “I agreed to no such thing. I plan on avoiding my parents until we all sit down for dinner.” Buck replies. Chimney opens the fridge, brandishing gold tequila at him. “Either of you in?” “Definitely,” Buck says, joining him. He grabs three disposable shot glasses from the drink area and hands them to Chimney. “I’m the potential getaway driver, so I’ll be drinking a beer early on at most.” “That’s genius. If you escape, please take me with you.” Chimney pleads, he fills all three shot glasses, and pushes two of them towards Buck. “You can have Eddie’s.” They cheers, tapping the shots on the counter before swallowing down the sharp, cheap tequila. He throws the second one back and shivers. Chimney glances at Eddie while grabbing three beers from the fridge. “Ready to meet your in-laws?” Buck feels himself flush at Chimney’s implication, but Eddie simply rolls his eyes, unphased. He cracks open the beer that Chimney hands him, “Come on, let's go rip the band-aid off.” Eddie offers. He sets a warm, grounding hand on Buck’s shoulder, steering him to the patio doors. Chimney leads the charge.

Above is a small offering of fluff to appease you. I'm sorry, there is a lot of angst ahead.

This is basically just a fic about how much I hate the Buckley parents and yes I made them even worse, you're welcome! I went Hater school so I would have the tools to properly hate Margaret and Phillip Buckley.

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sercphs · 1 year ago

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Love how no matter the verse (excluding IF), Fischl always manages to befriend almost everyone.

#das selbst durch die linse .. ooc #IF verse Fischl took her angsty teenager phase to 11 with a giant flaming sword and trauma #Basil and Devona are why it isn't “everyone”

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treemice · 13 hours ago

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I know teen girls are stereotyped to self diagnose with all kinds of personality disorders ("OMG I'm so bipolar" kind of vibe) but do they actually do that? And when they do do they actually believe that they have it? I'm asking this AS a teen kind-of-girl

Because on one hand if they actually believe it I'd understand because idk estrogen makes me gen feel like I'm going fucking insane sometimes. I'm not really a mentally healthy person, I'm prone to depressive episodes and I've been passively suicidal for most of my life, I've had OCD since I was like 7 and I've struggled with SH, so maybe it's just my autism brain thinking that everyone's being literal about that. But idk I've felt like... like a danger to myself before just on the basis of "I'm not normally in this good of a mood, my blood feels like it's dancing, if I jumped off the school balcony i bet I'd survive" and while I know that that's not true and I'd DIE i feel like i have 2 brains, the irrational emotional one, and the logical "you will die don't be a dumbass"/"you're being paranoid relax" one. And when I'm feeling irrational I get scared because I dont feel like i can trust myself to not do something dangerous.

But on the other if they don't mean it its caused me to think a lot of "phases" is normal. Like I was actively suicidal when I was 12 and when i watched a movie about a 12 year old girl that was depressed and a doctor said "being 12 is just one of those ages" I assumed it meant that being suicidal was a normal part of growing up and it'd go away in time.

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craftykittyscientist · 8 months ago

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i’m so fucking tired. looking at the people i used to know and they way they’re just assholes. all of them, i’m so tired of seeing him in the hallways during school. i’m tired of remembering what his house looks like or things we did. i’m so tired of people.

#vent #this might be about my exes plus old friends i had back in 2022!!!!#kms #what do you mean ‘why didnt i say no’#what if i just wanted to give him what he wanted #i never checked with myself if i wanted it #it was always him over myself #im so fucking tired #remembered that time when he tried to follow my insta account #made me wanna die #i wish i was a kid again #why do i have to deal with this angsty teenage shit #this is probably the most tags i’ve put on a post #to my friends who say to not think about it #i have trauma #and trauma is fucking hard as hell to get rid of #its always there in the back of my mind #you cant make me just forget about it #or force me to stop thinking of it #my brain will think of it all it wants #i cant stop it #also remembered the time i vented about this on tiktok #and i got people shitting on me for it #saying i was a loser if i remember correctly #talking

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flowercrowngods · 2 years ago

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based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)

🤍 also on ao3

Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.

His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.

Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–

It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.

He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."

No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".

No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...

No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.

He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?

The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.

He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.

Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.

---

He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.

Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.

He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.

The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.

"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.

After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.

"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."

He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–

Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.

After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.

"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.

---

He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.

It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.

And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”

It makes him want to scream.

Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.

“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.

“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Nothing.”

She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“

“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”

“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.

That’s why Robin is here, right?

The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.

She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.

“Steve, they’re kids.”

“Yeah, well. So am I.”

He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.

He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.

But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.

---

And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.

But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.

“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.

“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”

“Hey!”

“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”

“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.

She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”

“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.

“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”

The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.

“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.

“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.

“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”

“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.

“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.

But it also hurts.

Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.

The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.

He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.

Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.

Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.

And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”

Steve nods. “Sometimes.”

Eddie hums. “That sucks.”

He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.

“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”

Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.

“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“

“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.

“You what?!”

“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”

“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”

And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.

But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.

Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.

And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.

“It’s okay, Dustin.”

“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.

“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”

He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.

“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“

“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”

And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Shut up.”

And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.

“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”

“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”

“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”

She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.

“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”

“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“

“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”

“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”

Right. The end of the world.

With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.

Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.

He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.

---

In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.

They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.

"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.

"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."

He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.

The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.

That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.

Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.

"Will you be okay, Steve?"

"Sure."

Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.

"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."

"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."

Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.

"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–

"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.

Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."

"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"

Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."

"Hey, that's my part."

"Say it when you come back, then."

This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.

"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."

And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.

He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.

Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.

It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.

God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...

He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.

But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.

"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."

And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.

They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.

Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.

It's over. It's done.

They did it. They really did it.

Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.

---

Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.

"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.

"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."

"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.

Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.

"Uh, what's going on?"

Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."

Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–

"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."

He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.

Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."

"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."

"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.

"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."

"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.

"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."

"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."

"Hey!"

"No, she has a point."

Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.

"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."

And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.

"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."

"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."

"He’s our brother," Dustin says.

"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.

"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.

“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.

“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.

---

In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.

Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.

And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.

#stranger things #steve & the party #steddie #steddie fic #but also not really. steddie is just something that happens along the way #this was meant to be short but uh. uh. whoops?#hi anna i am sorry feel free to ignore this i could have made this easier in everyone but they’re teenagers with trauma dammit #dio words #actually i just wanted an excuse to make steve sad. if you know me you know

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venussaidso · 2 months ago

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ᵀʰᵉ ⁽ᶠᵉʷ⁾ ᴷᵉᵗᵘ ᵂᵒᵐᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴹᵃʳᵛᵉˡ ᵁⁿⁱᵛᵉʳˢᵉ

Negasonic Teenage Warhead and Lorna Dane are played by Ketu-ruled Moon natives. Both represent the young, rebellious, intense and angsty archetype.

Jessica Jones and Valkyrie are both played by Magha Moon natives. They use heavy drinking as a coping mechanism; both have gritty personalities and portray the cynic with a moral compass and complexity to them. Falling into the reluctant hero archetype.

Darcy Lewis and Vanessa Carlysle are a pair played by Magha Moon natives. They rely on humour and intelligence rather than superpowers or force. Both embody the witty, warm, down-to-earth personality.

Illyana Rasputin and Lorna Dane are played by Ashwini natives. Both possess a fierce, raw intensity; known for their chaotic, short-tempered personalities onscreen and bottled up trauma. Both equally volatile, unpredictable and ready to fight anyone. They also have magical powers.

Elektra and Lorna Dane are played by Ashwini natives. They have very intense personalities, with a fierce independence and commitment to the cause they believe in. They operate in moral gray areas. Their intensity and determination functioning to the point of recklessness.

Agatha Harkness is played by an Ashwini Moon native, standing on her own as she is unapologetically the most calculating, manipulative and power-driven of them all. Her playful, theatrical demeanour and lighthearted exterior concealing a very strategic and menacing core. She embraces her dark side with no hesitation.

#ashwini #magha #mula #vedic astrology #astrology #sidereal astrology #vedic observation #sidereal observation #sidereal #vedic #aries #leo #sagitarrius

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libraryofolive · 6 months ago

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lost time

featuring: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, gets fluffy towards the end

word count: 6.6k

synopsis: Nanami Kento left sorcery - and you, his best friend - behind two years ago. So what happens when you, still pissed off at him, get assigned a mission together?

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you also have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

"No. I'm not working with him. I refuse." You seethed at Yaga, blatantly ignoring the man stood next to you in his beige suit and blue shirt, his reflective glasses blocking his eyes from your view - not that you would grace him with eye contact in the first place.

"You don't get a choice. The two of you were specifically chosen for this mission. I know you have some... history... but the fact is, you were a good team. The two of you worked well together. You need to do the same now."

"Absolutely not. I will do it alone if I have to."

"Not possible. It's too dangerous for one sorc-"

"Then make Gojo do it." You snapped. You looked Kento Nanami, who had been eerily silent through both Yaga's briefing and the argument that followed it, up and down, a frown etched into your face.

"Gojo is currently overseas. You two are to exorcise these curses together. End of discussion." At Yaga's words, you stormed out of his office. Deep down, you knew that you were being childish, throwing a tantrum that reeked of immaturity and unprofessionalism. You were considering leaning into your rage filled, angsty teenage state of mind and punching a wall when Nanami emerged from the office.

"I'm not talking to you." You spat at him, voice laced with venom.

"That's fine. But I expect you to be at least professional whilst we share this mission." He folded his arms across his chest, one eyebrow raised at you.

"Fuck off." The audacity of this man, acting superior to you when you were the more experienced sorcerer in this situation, considering he had been off playing corporate scumbag the past two years.

"I thought you weren't talking to me."

You raised your middle finger at him, turning around and walking away. Who the fuck did he think he is? Who gave him the right to act like that towards you?

This mission was going to be hell.

When you first started your education at Jujutsu Tech, Kento Nanami... intimidated you. Being a third of your first year class, he seemed the brooding type, the only emotion you ever really saw on his face being irritation. He was the opposite of your other classmate, Haibara, who was all sunshine and smiles. Where you and Haibara got on well enough, you opted more to avoid Nanami like the plague, at least, initially.

As the three of you started to fight curses together, you learnt to trust your classmates. You knew that they would always have your back in the dangerous scrapes you were often plunged into, even if you were unsure if you could really call them your friends. You felt like an outsider when the three of you were together - Haibara and Nanami's friendship blossomed quickly, but you felt like your connection to the boys was lagging behind.

"Boys are idiots, I would know." Shoko had once said between puffs of her cigarette when you asked for her advice about the situation. Due to the small number of girls attending Jujutsu High the two of you had bonded over the shared trauma of always being outnumbered, and you felt the closest to her out of all of your fellow students. "I wouldn't worry about it," she continued, "I was the same with Gojo and Geto. You'll click eventually."

"That doesn't fill me with much confidence." You frowned, "I'm not sure that it'll ever happen. I mean, I trust them with my life-"

"You have to do that-"

"and I respect them heaps. They're talented sorcerers, and they're both so brave. I don't think I've seen either of them break a sweat on our missions. But apart from sorcery, I don't know if we have anything in common."

"You worry too much." Shoko poked your nose condescendingly, smiling to show she was kidding around. Still, your brow furrowed, another protest on the tip of your tongue. "Seriously. You've only actually known them a short while. Give it some time. Not everyone becomes friends straight away."

"I guess you're right.." You sighed, conceding.

"I always am. It'd be a good idea to learn that." Your friend winked at you, making you roll your eyes at her antics.

But, she was right, eventually. Haibara had - unbeknownst to you - overheard your conversation, and resolved to try harder to befriend you properly.

"C'mon, Nanami, she seemed sad!" He exclaimed as he told your other classmate about what he had overheard.

"I'm not like you, Haibara. I'm not great at this making friends stuff."

"Well, you made me your friend. What's one more?"

"You are the reason we're friends. Your unrelenting pleasantness eventually wore me down."

"Oh please. You're funny, smart, and a great sorcerer. That's friendship material right there."

"If you say so."

"I'm not saying you have to be her best friend in the whole universe. Let's just try and include her a bit more, okay? Actually respond to her when she asks you a question rather than just grunting in her general direction." Nanami grunted in response to Haibara, making him laugh.

"See? Funny!"

The car ride to the abandoned hospital where the two first grade curses you were to exorcise were hidden was so tense, Ijichi thought he could cut that tension with a knife. He gulped, pulling at his collar, the sound filling the eerie silence of the car.

"So, er, it's been a while since you two saw each other, hasn't it? Isn't it nice to know the other is well." He said, attempting to fill a void made of awkward silence and angry looks.

"So nice." You replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes. You knew that you would have to apologise to Ijichi after this trip - it wasn't fair for him to get caught in the crossfire that was your tattered friendship with the man sitting next to you. Nanami knew this too, and felt it necessary to scold you.

"Your problem is with me, not him. Please don't project your hatred of me onto an innocent bystander." Still refusing to talk to him, you simply flicked his face.

"How mature."

You leant over to flick him again, but Ijichi spoke once again. "What lovely weather we're having!" In an attempt to stop a brawl breaking out in the back of his car, Ijichi had said the first thing that had come to his mind, paying no mind to the actual weather, which was pouring down with rain.

"Yes, quite pleasant." Nanami hummed in agreement, but sceptically eyeing the outside world from the pleasant heat of the car.

"Oh shut up." Your eyes narrowed at him, words icy cold.

"Are we talking again now?" He raised a brow at you, that smug expression from outside of Yaga's office back on his disgustingly handsome face.

Your ensuing flick to his cheek caused his expression of smugness to turn into one of irritation.

After your conversation with Shoko, you had noticed a shift in your dynamic with your classmates. Haibara had started asking you more questions directly, purposefully bringing you into the conversations between him and Nanami. He also sought to spend time with you out of class, one on one, and soon a real friendship clicked into place just like Shoko said it would. I guess she was right, you thought, not that I'd ever admit that.

Soon, group movie nights became a tradition. You would sneak into their section of the dorms every Friday, the three of you taking turns to choose what film would be that night's entertainment. You had begun to appreciate the stupid action/comedy films Haibara favoured, whilst you forced the two to watch childhood classics they had never seen.

"I am not watching another Barbie film." Nanami used to sulk.

"Well, it's my turn to choose, and this is what I have chosen."

"Yeah, Nanami, the rules of movie night dictate that we have to watch whatever the person in charge of picking chooses. That means if someone choses a Barbie film, we have to watch it."

"We have watched five already. Please, choose a different film." He aimed the last half of his words at you.

"Nah, I don't think I will. And I know you secretly enjoyed the last one."

"I did not!"

"You most certainly did! I saw you smile at the happy ending!" Haibara joined in your teasing of the blonde.

"I was only smiling because it was over."

"Excuses, excuses." You dismissed his rebuttal, grinning as you pressed play on the film.

Your relationships with the two developed quickly as these group hang outs became more and more frequent. However, there was always more distance between you and Nanami than you and Haibara. Until one week, when Haibara fell ill, messaging you to let you know:

Too ill for movie night :( What? Noooooo! Reschedule? Don't be silly. You and Nanami have one without me!

You paused at his suggestion. Sure, you and Nanami had hung out outside of class together. But never just the two of you, and always instigated by Haibara. Would it be awkward? You were just watching a movie, you reasoned, so it would be acceptable to just sit next to each other in silence. Outside of your better judgement, you found yourself once again sneaking into the boys' dorms.

"What are you doing here?" Nanami questioned when he saw you.

"Movie night, duh. What are we watching? It's your turn to choose."

"But Haibara isn't well."

"He told me to just do it without him... unless you don't want to? I can just head back to my-"

"NO! Er, no, it's fine. We'll watch something. I haven't thought about what to watch, so let me go raid my DVDs." He blushed at his slight outburst, and the thought of spending time, alone, with you. It was hard enough to not embarrass himself in front of you when Haibara was around to distract you, but alone? Sat right next to you?

"Okay, cool. I brought popcorn." You grinned at him, holding up the bright bag of the sweet food.

"Oh, thanks..." He trailed off, staring intently at the bag you held in your hands.

"The movie, Nanami?" You asked.

"Oh, yeah. One sec." He wandered into his room, silently cursing himself from being such an idiot. He emerged with two DVDs in hand.

"These are the only two decent ones I've got. What do you think?" He handed them to you, letting you look over the synopsis of each one. They were artsy ones, and you were pretty sure one of them was French.

"Are these yours?" You asked curiously, looking them up and down.

"Well, yeah. Why else would I have them?" He replied as he tried to plug his DVD player into the TV.

"They're just so... different from what you usually pick."

"Oh, I just pick those stupid action ones because I know Haibara likes them, and you like to make fun of him for liking them. It keeps you both happy, even if I don't find them particularly pleasing."

"Jeez, Nanami, you're making me feel bad for forcing you to sit through all of my Barbie films."

"Those aren't... atrocious. I have unfortunately found myself singing some of the songs as I go about my day."

"I knew you secretly enjoyed them! No one can resist the allure of Bibble."

"Never say that sentence ever again. And don't repeat what I said, either. Now have you chosen which film you would prefer?"

"It's your turn to choose, Nanami. Put whichever one you prefer on." You hand him the two DVD cases before making yourself comfortable on the couch of the communal dorm area, wrapping yourself in the blanket you had brought from your own dormitory.

"Or whichever one you can comment on the least."

"Oh please, you enjoy my running commentary on the movies we watch."

"In your dreams." He slotted one of the DVDs in the player, pressed play and joined you on the couch, sitting as far away from you as he possibly could.

"God, Nanami, I don't bite. You can sit a bit closer to me." He shuffled along a little bit, and you decided to make yourself even more comfortable by putting your feet onto his lap.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked, cocking his eyebrow - an expression that never seemed to leave his face around you.

"Getting comfy." You grinned at him before turning your attention to the TV, missing the pink tinge to his cheeks.

"We should split up." Nanami's baritone voice rang out through the halls of the abandoned hospital. It wasn't silent - the rain falling through the large hole in the ceilings and roof prevented noiselessness.

"I'm happy to do that if it means I can get on with this away from you."

"That is what 'split up' means."

"Who do you think you are, Fred from Scooby-Doo?" You glared at him. The downpour you had gotten caught in had flattened his styled hair into a look that somewhat resembled his signature cut back in high school. He still looked stupidly good, you thought, but you had always found him attractive.

"Can you stop with the theatrics? I don't want to be here just as much as you."

"I'll take the higher floors. You stay here." You stormed off, something you always seem to be doing around him nowadays. Nanami sighed. He didn't know what he expected when he returned to sorcery and saw you again, but it certainly wasn't this much hostility. Had you harboured this towards him the entire time he wasn't around?

"Be careful." He called after you, still wishing you safety despite how little you currently cared for him. Your only acknowledgement of his words was another middle finger hurled at him from over your shoulder. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Between you and the two first grade spirits running around this place, it was going to be a long day.

After that movie night, you found yourself actually considering Nanami Kento your friend. Once Haibara recovered from his cold, he was slightly confused about the new closeness between his two friends, but he was as happy as you were that the three of you had bonded. He was also confused as to why you kept on bringing up a 'Bibble' around your shared friend, but he laughed along with you every time you did.

Eventually, there came a time where the two of you were practically joined at the hip. Nanami was thrilled with your newfound friendship, knowing that without Haibara’s pushing - and an illness that Nanami was convinced wasn’t as bad as Hairbara had told you both it was - he knew he would have never had the nerve to speak to you, nevermind be your friend. But part of him knew that he would never be satisfied being just your friend. You were the first thing he thought about when he woke up, and the last thing before he slept. He found himself being reminded of you in everything he did - the stars were the twinkle in your eye when you were talking about one of your passions. The sun’s rays were the warmth of your smile, something that could bring light into even the darkest of days.

Nanami found himself sat across from you at a restaurant. To onlookers, it would probably look like a date, two young people sharing each other’s company for a pleasant evening. Haibara, who usually accompanied the two of you on outings like this, had been sent to exorcise a curse in a different city and wouldn’t be back until the next day. As much as Nanami missed his friend, he was glad to have some alone time with you, even if it wasn’t the romantic date he wished it was.

“Okay, I need to know,” you said between mouthfuls of your food, “why the hell does Gojo call you Nanamin?”

“To wind me up, no doubt. He knows how much I hate it.”

“You hate it? But it’s so cute! I think it fits you nicely.” He raised an eyebrow at you, as if to ask if you were being serious. It made you giggle.

“I’m just playing. But I do like it. Maybe I’ll start using it.”

“Please don’t.” Nanami cringed at the thought of you and Gojo sharing the same nickname for him.

“You’re no fun.” You pouted slightly, and God did he want to kiss your pout away. His face warmed at the thought, before mentally scolding himself for thinking inappropriately. “So what can I call you?” You continued.

“Kento. Please, just call me Kento.”

“Your first name? Wow, we must really be friends,” you grinned at him, “Kento.” Yeah, Kento thought, he could get used to you calling him by his first name.

Haibara was an observant person, and he easily picked up on the slight shift your friendship with Nanami was making every day. The shyness that sometimes made itself apparent, the red tinges to your cheeks every time you stood a little too close together. Your teasing towards Nanami dialled up a notch, and he was often found stumbling over his words in an attempt to respond. Gone was the reserved, nonchalant persona that intimidated you when you first met him, and it was slowly being replaced by a crushing schoolboy.

Not that you noticed, or were faring any better. Shoko was frequently on the receiving end of your lovesick rambles.

"And when he raises the one eyebrow at me? All cocky and teasing after I say something stupid, God, Shoko, I just want to melt."

"Can we go back to you ranting about how you couldn't make friends with him? Somehow I think I prefer that." She nudged you with her elbow, grinning.

"Oh shut up! You have to hear about my love life because you don't have one to tell me about."

"Well fuck you too!" The both of you laughed, these joking barbs a key factor of your friendship. "I am happy for you. For finally managing to force them into being your friend and for liking one of them enough to actually have a crush on them."

"You're happy that I have an all-consuming crush on a guy that definitely doesn't like me back? Some friend you are."

"It keeps my life interesting, what can I say?" She pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket, taking one out and putting it to her lips. "But he definitely likes you back." She said as she fished around in her pockets for a lighter.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." You replied as you took a lighter out of your own pocket and lit her cigarette for her.

"Since when do you carry a lighter?"

"Since you can never find yours."

"I knew we were friends for a reason." She puffed on her cigarette, leaning onto to stair behind her on the outdoor staircase you were currently sat on. "Seriously though. I've seen you guys interact. He's into you. You should ask him out."

"Maybe."

"You're pathetic. It's never gonna happen if you don't do anything about it." She blew her cigarette smoke into your face, making you cough slightly.

"I thought the guy was supposed to do the asking."

"Have you met the guys? They're all too much of a wimp to do any asking. It's up to us girls, as always."

Nanami had found one of the cursed spirits on the first floor of the abandoned building, and exorcised it without much effort. This, however, didn't put him at ease. If that curse was easy to defeat, yet this mission was dangerous enough to warrant sending the both of you on it, what did the other curse have in store? Or had the higher ups just over-estimated how dangerous the curse was? Sure, the one he had exorcised looked even more menacing than your average curse, but there was not much substance to back up those looks.

He paused, trying to pull a logical plan together. Should he go and find you? Now that one curse had been exorcised, there should only be one left in the building, so it could be beneficial for the two of you to reconvene and tackle it together, although finding it could take much longer. There was also the fact that you were so adamant in being stubborn and not talking to him, unless it was to chew him out for whatever reason you thought appropriate. If you refused to work with him, then it would make more sense for you two to stay apart and cover more ground. He hated that he couldn't read you as well as he used to, and that he couldn't fully rely on your trust anymore. Although, did he really deserve your trust? Your unwavering belief in your abilities as a team, something you had even before your friendship at high school? He left Jujutsu to become yet another cog in the corporate machine, only to return with his tail between his legs two years later.

He resolved to hunt you down and explain the situation, and base the rest of his strategy on your reaction. Surely, if you understood what you could be dealing with, you would put your vitriol aside for the sake of survival. Wouldn't you?

You had taken Shoko's words to heart, and planned to tell Nanami about your feelings for him. Even if he didn't reciprocate them, you could have some closure and move on from this silly crush. Right?

You spent a few weeks mulling over how to do it and what to say. You wanted to do it right, to do it perfectly, as if your gesture could cosmically alter his feelings towards you and make him like you back. When he and Haibara were away on a mission together, you planned it all out with the help of Shoko, who was impressed that you were actually acting on your feelings. You would greet the two when they arrived back, before asking Nanami for a private word and quietly confessing when you were both alone.

You didn't expect Haibara to arrive back in a body bag.

When Nanami - Kento - told you what had happened, you fell to your knees, your body wracked with sobs. Any previous fixations on romance left your body and gave way to an aching grief, mourning over your friend. The dynamic of your class had once again shifted, but this time, a gaping hole was left. It felt as if Haibara had taken all of the warmth and sun to the afterlife with him, his happy disposition being sorely missed in a room full of loss and sadness.

All of a sudden, it was just you and Kento. The two of you became inseparable, your grief slowly bringing the two of you even further together. It felt as though he was the only one who could understand you, that understood what you were going through as you powered on with your Jujutsu education, saving as many as you could. You wanted to act on your feelings for him, like you had once resolved to, but neither of you could escape the reality of the danger of your profession - what was once a looming warning, one of the infinite possibilities of the future, now became one of the two paths you could walk: live or die.

Nanami climbed the sole staircase that remained intact slowly, staying aware of his surroundings in case the remaining curse decided to ambush him on his climb. His caution was thrown to the wind, however, when he heard a scream that he just knew was yours.

He barrelled at full speed towards where the scream came from, stopping only when he saw the large curse standing over your body, your leg bent at an unnatural angle, with its back to him.

"Oh fuck..." He mumbled, barely audible.

"NANAMI!" You shouted, panic evident on your face - you hadn't noticed him yet. "Nanami!" Your shout was quieter the second time, closer to a sob than a scream. As much as it killed him to see you in pain, to see you desperately calling for him, he stayed silent, the curse between the two of you distracted by you. I'm sorry, he thought, mentally apologising to you for using you as a pawn in his plan to exorcise this curse, but I'm here, and I won't let you die.

"He's gone." Satoru Gojo said simply as you walked back onto the grounds of Jujutsu Tech in a search for Shoko to patch up the wounds from the mission you're returning from.

"Wow, hello to you too, Gojo. Yeah, the mission went well, thanks for asking. A couple of scrapes, but I'm not too banged up." You rolled your eyes at Gojo's lack of greeting.

"Nanami. He's gone." It was as if your heart stopped.

"Gone? What do you mean he's gone? Dead?" You asked quietly, tears filling your eyes, fearing the worst.

"No, not dead." A sigh of relief, "but he's left Jujutsu. He's gone to be a salaryman at some fancy company."

"Yeah, funny joke, Gojo. Where is he actually?" You asked, rolling your eyes at his antics.

"No, he's actually left." His tone lacked the playfulness that normally always underlies it - he was being deadly serious.

"What?" You asked, confusion written all over your face/

"I'm sorry, he said he wanted nothing to do with sorcery anymore." You picked up what Gojo was implying - he wants nothing to do with me.

"That bastard." You mumbled.

"What was that?"

"That bastard." You spat, "how dare he. How dare he. He leaves, wanting nothing to do with us - with me - and doesn't have the balls to tell me himself? I have to hear it from you?"

"Woah, you're mad at Nanamin, not me!"

"Do not mention him in front of me again. If he wants nothing to do with me, that's fine. I want nothing to do with him, the coward."

All you could feel was fiery hot pain, sprawled on the floor, unable to even stand up, never mind run away from the curse in front of you. "Nanami! Help, please!" You screamed again and again, hoping your colleague might hear you.

"It's too dangerous for one sorcerer to go alone." Yaga's words rung through your ears. You mentally scolded yourself - why had you let your anger at Nanami cloud your judgement during an evidently dangerous mission? You had agreed to split up because you just wanted to get on with it, to get away from him, and get home as soon as you could. Why didn't you stop to just think? To strategize before running head first into a fight? This is how sorcerers die, you thought, this is how I die. Why did I never listen to Shoko as she explained reverse curse technique?

You tried to get away from the curse, using your arms to pull you across the floor, wincing every time your injured leg scraped across the floor, rubble digging into it. Eventually, your arms gave up, and you were ebbing in and out of consciousness. You stopped trying to move, curling your body into a small ball in an attempt to shrink away from the curse's line of sight. You let out a small, "Kento, please.." - a whimper more than any real form of speech - before passing out completely.

Nanami had heard every one of your cries as he fought the curse. You never once realised he was there - he put that up to a delirium that must have been brought on by the pain you had felt. This curse had at least ten times the power of the previous one he had thought, and fighting it without you was a challenge. After revealing his technique to increase its power, he eventually managed to get the upper hand - he managed to outwit it, trapping it under some rubble and exorcising it accordingly. He had no time to revel in his victory, though, as as soon as it started disappearing he was rushing to your side.

There's a pulse, thank God. Her leg is undoubtedly broken, probably in more places than one. She seems to have hurt her head too, but I can't tell if she has a concussion whilst she's unconscious. This is my fault - why did I suggest we split up? Yaga told us this was dangerous. I should've considered this outcome.

He called Ijichi, letting him know that both curses had been exorcised and that you had been badly injured, so he was to come and collect you both as soon as possible and take you straight to Ieri. Nanami gently put one arm underneath your neck, the other under your knees, being careful as to not grip the broken leg.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to your unconscious form, lifting you off the ground. You breathed in sharply, but didn't wake - at least you were somewhat responsive. He carried you down the stairs to the ground floor of the abandoned building as quickly as he could without jostling you too much, and placing you gently in the back of Ijichi's car. He got in after you, placing your head on his lap as you laid across the back seat. "Why did I let this happen to you?" He mumbled, moving a bloodied lock of your hair from your face.

"What was that? Did you say something, Nanami?" Ijichi asked, looking at him through the rear-view mirror.

"No. How long until we get back to the school?"

"About half an hour."

"Drive faster." His tone had no room for arguing, and Ijichi found himself starting to ignore the speed limits of the roads back to Jujutsu High.

You woke up in the white, sterile room that could only be the Infirmary at Jujutsu Tech.

"Good, you're awake. You scared us." Shoko said, standing over you.

"I make your life more interesting, what can I say?"

"Wow, you've been out for hours and you start cracking jokes. At least I know that head wound didn't do too much damage."

"Head wound?"

"You broke your left femur and fibula, and we think you hit your head on the way down."

"Is Nanami okay?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"I'm not talking to him."

"He has been sat here since we arrived back." Another voice from across the room butt into your conversation with Shoko. You turned your head, and sure enough Nanami was sat there, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, having taken off his tie and suit jacket. His hair was now dry, but he hadn't restyled it, so it was still flat to his head. You couldn't see any injuries on him.

"I'm still not talking to you."

"Really? After I saved your life? After you were calling out to me to come and save you? You were certainly talking to me then."

"Fuck you."

"Nanami, leave." Shoko interrupted. "I'm not having her work herself up and undoing all my hard work." He sighed, but gave in and left the room. Your friend turned your attention back to you, "I've healed your injuries, but take it easy. Your leg is going to take some physio to get it back to where it was."

"So... I can go?"

"You want to get away from me so quickly? I'm hurt. But yeah, you can go. Although you need to take it easy for a week or so, alright? You were pretty banged up when Nanami brought you in."

"He brought me in?"

"Carried you in here himself. Refused to let anyone but me touch you."

"Oh."

"I didn't know he was back, did you?" She asked, eyeing you sceptically.

"Not until we got assigned this mission together."

"He's still into you, y'know."

"Fuck off, Sho."

"I'm being serious, I promise. You didn't see how worried he was when he arrived with you unconscious."

"I don't care. I hate him."

"You keep saying that, but I don't believe you. Never have. I know how much you cared about him. That doesn't go away overnight."

"It wasn't overnight, Sho. He was gone for two years." She hummed, but you know she wasn't agreeing with you. "I thought you were leaving?" she changed the subject.

"I am. I'll see you later." You hopped off your bed, stumbling a bit as you stood.

"I had better not see you in that state again any time soon!" Shoko called after you as you walked out of the infirmary.

"I'm a big girl, I can look after myself!" You called back, smiling slightly.

"How are you feeling?" At the sound of Nanami's voice, your small smile dropped.

"Have you been loitering outside of the Infirmary? Creep."

"I was waiting for you, because I was worried about you. That's not creepy, that's being a decent person."

"Fuck off. You know I'm not talking to you."

"So you keep saying. But why? Why won't you talk to me? Engage in a normal conversation like an adult?"

"Why? Are you actually asking me why I'm mad at you? You prick." You looked at him, gobsmacked. He didn't remember what happened? Or perhaps he remembered but didn't see the problem with it. The thought made your anger burn brighter.

“It has been two years since we last saw each other.”

“Oh I am well aware of how long it has been, Nanami.” You scoffed. He remained collected, and that just made you even more mad. Did he not care? The two of you had been so close before he left. Was he fine with throwing all of that away, with you spending the rest of your life despising him?

“Then why are you lording something I did - that I can’t even remember - over my head to the point that you will only speak to me if it is throwing obscenities my way?”

“It is not something you did.” You weren’t shouting anymore. Instead, your voice was quiet, but not calm. Pure fury coated every word, and you were practically spitting them out, “It was something you didn’t do.” You saw regret flash in Nanami’s face, and knew that he had finally figured out why you had been angry at him for so long.

“You left,” you carried on, “you left me here. Alone. And you know who I found out from? Satoru fucking Gojo. So not only did you leave, you left without telling me. WIthout talking to me about that decision. You were my best friend, I was in love with you, for fuck’s sake, and you left without having the balls to say goodbye. So yeah, I’m pissed. You knew what you were doing, and you still took the coward’s way out. Then you swan in here, in your fancy suit and your new hair acting like everything is hunky-fucking-dory. Well, it’s not.” Your voice cracked, anger dissipating into the sadness you never let yourself feel. “I have spent the past two years hating you, because it was easier than acknowledging how much I missed you. I was - am - so lonely and it was all your fault. Because you left. You left and you didn’t even tell me you were considering leaving. It was supposed to be us against the world. We were best friends, yet you didn’t care enough to say goodbye.” You turned on your heel, ready to walk away. You didn’t want him to see the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, to see the broken heart he left you with written all over your face. You didn’t make it far though, because he grabbed your wrist.

He grabbed your wrist, spinning you around as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, a stark contrast from his cold, reserved demeanour he had always worn. You melted into his embrace, and it felt so right, you were kissing Kento Nanami. You were kissing Kento Nanami - no. This was wrong. This was all wrong. You went rigid in his embrace, pulling away, shaking your head, tears running down your face.

“No. No. You don’t get to do this.” You took a few steps away from him, shaking your head vigorously. “You don’t get to kiss me and act like it solves everything. One kiss does not erase the hurt that I felt - that you caused. No. Get away from me.”

“Wait, please. Let me- let me explain myself. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. But please, listen to me. You can go on hating me afterwards, but I won’t ever be able to look at you again if I don’t explain.” You didn’t say anything, but didn’t walk away, either. He took it as a cue for him to continue.

“I hated Jujutsu society. I had to get away, to live outside of it for a while, but that was worse. Because you weren’t there. The only thing I had to think about was money, it was a miserable existence, so I came back. I didn’t know what I expected when I returned. But you were here, and even if you refused to speak to me, knowing that you were okay, that you were well and healthy, made my life infinitely better.”

“I don’t care that you left. I knew you hated it here. I care that you didn’t talk to me. You didn’t tell me that you wanted to leave, or even that you were leaving. It’s that you wanted nothing to do with me, so much so that you didn’t even have the common decency to say goodbye.”

“I couldn’t say goodbye to you,” you could hear the emotion in his voice, the vulnerability, “because I knew that if I did, I would have asked you to come with me. And I couldn’t do that to you.”

“If you had asked, I would have gone.”

“I know. But you thrive here, and I couldn’t drag you away from it and into a miserable life outside of sorcery.”

“I wouldn’t have been miserable. I would’ve had you.”

“You can have me now, if that’s what you want. I love you. I always have. I loved you before we were even friends, I was just too scared to even talk to you. Please, I love you. And I always will, even if you spend the rest of my life hating me.”

“No, you don’t. You can’t love me. Because you don’t know me. You love the person I was, the person you knew, and the person you think I am. We haven’t seen or even spoken to each other in two years, Nanami. We’ve grown up. We’ve changed. Neither of us are the person the other one thinks we are.”

“Then let me get to know you, please. We can start slow. Let me take you to dinner. We can start it like you would any other relationship. But I need to have you in my life.”

“Nanami, I-”

“Kento, please. You calling me by my last name isn’t right.”

“Kento, I don’t know. It’s so complicated, it will be so messy-”

“You are worth it, though. You loved me once - do you think you will be able to love me again?”

“I don’t know.” There was a beat of silence, “But I’m willing to try.” A smile lit up his face, one that reminded you of the days of your youth - the pure happiness he had always brought you. It gave you hope for your future, for your future together.

“Okay.” He said quietly, “are you free tonight?”

“Tonight? Eager, are we?”

“I have to make up for lost time, my dear.” You both looked at each other, tears staining your faces but wide smiles adorning them also.

“Tonight it is then. Pick me up at seven?”

“Five.”

“Five is too early, I need to get ready.”

“Six then.”

“Half past six.”

“Done.”

267 notes · View notes

isawritesshit · 6 months ago

Text

Someone - Chapter 2

image taken from @ patlmao on pinterest

Synopsis: Satoru became something to you during your school years together at Jujutsu Tech, which were ended abruptly when you were casted out from your clan and left the jujutsu world. When Satoru finds you again after years apart, you find out that you were something to him too. Maybe you still are.

Warnings/Content: fem!reader, season 2 spoilers, violence, brief depictions of blood and nudity, language, death/murder, conspiracy, allusions to toxic households/anxiety/physical abuse, some arranging marriage things, toji giving more teenagers trauma

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I'm glad it could get it to y'all! This chapter focuses much more on the reader than anything, and it's overall more angsty, but I promise the good stuff is coming soon! The Kamo family and any of its mentioned characters/members in this story are made up and dramatized for the point of this series, and are not canon. Make sure to read the prologue and chapter one before this one, if you haven't. Also, I wanted to thank all of those who have supported my Color Blue series, and that the next chapter is in my drafts! <33

Word Count: ~5.4k

___________________________________________________________

Walking up the steps to Jujutsu Tech had to be one of your least favorite activities, but the five of you pushed forward. You were almost home free. Once you reached the inside of the jujutsu barrier, the mission would be complete.

Memories from that morning flooded your mind. Satoru had still been awake when you got up from the couch after a somewhat peaceful rest. How did you sleep? His voice had been gravely and quiet, completely exhausted.

Good, you had yawned as you stretched, making your first task to go and find him some caffeine. What you didn't say was that you actually had been awake for an hour before you decided to move. You had felt him caressing the ends of your hair, running his knuckle along your cheek while he assumed you were still unconscious.

You can't get any more obvious than that, (y/n). Riko's words rang through your head.

"Satoru." You stopped and turned to where he was walking up the steps behind you. Upon hearing his name, Satoru grinned and trotted up until he was on the same steps as you so you both could continue together. He didn't seem to care that he left his conversation with Suguru.

"Something up?" he chirped.

"No it's... I needed to ask you about something, actually." Your focus was on the steps below you as you ascended them, hands behind your back as you took up a leisurely pace. A few seconds passed as you considered your next words.

"Well? I'm waitiiiiing," Satoru sang. That caffeine had definitely helped.

Are you sureeee...?

"You know what, I think I'll tell you when once we finish the mission," you stated haughtily, shrugging as a way to playfully brush off the issue. Now probably wasn't the time anyway. It might be better to ask once the stress of this mission was past all of you. Satoru turned back to chat with Suguru.

Finally, you reached the top of the steps. "Good job everyone. We're inside Jujutsu High's barrier now," Suguru commended with a smile. You patted Riko's back as she hunched over from the exertion of the trek. "Satoru, (y/n), you both really worked hard this time."

You returned a small, awkward smile.

Satoru just scowled. "I never wanna get stuck babysitting a brat again."

When you turned to Satoru with a remark on the end of your tongue, there was a blade protruding from his chest.

You hesitated, eyes wide. Impossible. You're inside the barrier! Geto sent a curse careening for Satoru's attacker, causing him to remove the blade and jump back. The curse gobbled the mercenary in one bite, but you knew that would only prolong his attacks. You ran to Satoru's side, pressing a hand to his chest and back where the blade had entered to heal him.

However, Satoru pushed you away gently, explaining how he used his technique to keep the blow from being fatal. "Don't waste your energy. I'll take this guy, you three get her to Tengen-sama."

You almost protested, but you knew your role in this mission was to keep Riko alive, which meant you had to stay with her the whole time. With Suguru protecting the three of you, you would be safe. "Be careful, Satoru. Let's go!" Suguru shouted. Riko and Kuroi ran to his side as they started to sprint.

"Satoru..." There was something seriously wrong. Why was Satoru attacked instead of Riko? Hadn't her bounty been lifted also? This man must have some kind of technique to allow Satoru to not be able to sense him, or, even worse, he might not have cursed energy at all. But if that were true, how had he been able to see past the barrier?

"Seriously, (y/n), I'll be alright. Protect Riko," he said with surprising calmness. His assurance gave you confidence. He's the strongest. He would be fine. You turned to catch up with Suguru and the girls, and hoped you weren't making a mistake.

___________________________________________________________

The shrieking of the old elevator filled your ears as the four of you descended deep into the earth. Suguru made sure that no cursed energy residuals were left, especially once you reached a chosen entrance of the Tombs of the Star Corridor. That bastard would be lucky if he even found one of the entrances.

Once your group reached the bottom, the four of you stepped out and peered into the darkness of the corridor beyond. Riko seemed to look forward towards what she believed to be her final steps as herself. "This is as far as I go, Riko-sama," Kuroi stated with a bow. Riko ran to her and hugged her tightly, tears filling their eyes.

"I'll stay with Kuroi," you declared. Riko whipped her head to you. "Suguru will keep you safe," you assured her, taking a few steps in their direction, "we'll remain to guard this entrance." You pulled Riko into a deep embrace, her tears soaking the sleeve of your uniform. "Thank you, Riko..." you whispered, not specifying what for. You held her head as tears threatened to fall from your own eyes. In the span of three days, this girl managed to become a dear friend to you, like Shoko.

You glanced over Riko's shoulder and made eye contact with Suguru. You hoped he could see past the despondency in your eyes to know you were pleading with him. You, Satoru, and Suguru had discussed the terms of Riko's assimilation in private. She didn't have to assimilate if she didn't wish to. You trusted Suguru to convey that to Riko before it was too late.

You and Riko broke apart, sniffling and wiping tears. "Tell Gojo I said thank you, (y/n)," she whispered. You could see the hidden message behind her words, the happiness she wished for you to pursue. You would. For her, you would.

You watched as the two started a leisurely pace ahead. It was more a speed that someone might take on an evening stroll instead of to the end of their existence with a ruthless murderer on the hunt nearby, yet you stared from behind in awe at Riko's silent bravery. Soon enough, her and Suguru were out of sight as their footsteps faded within the passing minutes. You and Kuroi stood there in silence.

"You raised Riko well, Kuroi," you whispered, pausing for a moment. "I know you said her parents passed in an accident, but, if you don't mind me asking, how did her parents die?" Accident was a vague term.

"A car wreck," Kuroi responded. "A head on collision. They were crushed in the front seat while she was sitting in the back."

"Ah... and how old was she?"

"Six."

You went silent. What was special about six years old anyway? Was that the age that all gifted girls lost their parents?

"(y/n), do you think that... if I always knew that Riko would one day depart from me, from the world... was I wrong to teach her... to allow her to become attached to the world?" Kuroi's words left the silence as slowly as they had entered.

"Do you mean because Riko would one day assimilate that she should have never learned to love the people around her?"

"Yes well, I mean, she could still appreciate things but... this world was never meant to be hers, yet I treated it like it was. Was I wrong to do that?"

"No. Absolutely not," you challenged. "The world was hers. The world is still hers because you raised her to believe it. Now, we just need to see what she'll do with it." You paused before explaining. "Riko doesn't have to assimilate if she doesn't want to. She can live a life. If you had not raised her the way you did, she would never consider that option available to her. Satoru and Suguru are prepared to protect her, if necessary. We can make the world hers again."

Kuroi's head snapped in your direction. "So you mean... she can come back?"

"Yes, thanks to you, I have no doubt she will come back. All we have to do is wait." You smiled softly.

Kuroi gasped and beamed. "Thank you, (y-"

Blood protruded from Kuroi's stomach where three bullets had entered from behind. You screamed, rushing to where she fell, before two bullets lodged themselves into each of your calves. The pain spiraled throughout your body as you fell forward.

You gritted your teeth as you tried to raise yourself, but a foot cracked down on both of your shoulders, the bones crunching. "Ah, sorry, can't make it too easy for you to heal yourself." The man who had attacked Satoru stepped off your shoulder to kneel in front of you. "You should heal from it naturally though if you put your technique to work. I would finish you myself, but I don't need the Kamos coming after me for killing their pet dog." He stood and began to walk away.

How was he here? Where was...

Where was Satoru?

"I am not... a dog!" you gritted out between your teeth. This man... you had heard of him before. Sorcerer killer, your adoptive father had called him. The bastard of the Zen'in. The man turned, intrigued, and stalked back towards where you lay, your blood pooling and mixing with Kuroi's, who was slowly losing life by the second. Heal her. You needed to heal her, but with your significant injuries, you only had enough energy to heal yourself before you could even think of getting to Kuroi.

The man grabbed you by your hair and lifted your body up with one hand, bringing you eye level to him. You cried out at the blinding pain, unable to even try and fight him with your broken shoulders. He scrutinized your expression like he was looking at mold on food. The man scoffed, spitting at your face as he said "You look like one. You look like your father."

Your father?

How did he-

Your tormentor only let out a strained laugh. "Seriously? You never figured it out? I can tell by the stupid fucking look on your face." You squinted, confused. "Your parents were the easiest job I had ever got. One of them wasn't even a sorcerer and the other couldn't even use proper cursed energy. It was almost stupid, how pathetically they went down for the amount they were worth. And for what? Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?" A smirk before he added, "Come to think of it, your dad was making that face right before I slit his fucking throat." You saw red, and tried to kick him in his abdomen despite the pain in your legs. Before you could, you were discarded to the floor, next to Kuroi's now dead body. The man continued on towards where Suguru and Riko were now.

Your screams echoed out towards the hall, pleading and calling out for your friends to run, to warn them of the oncoming slaughter, but to no avail. The tunnel stretched on for miles. Your voice would become nothing with the immense distance, and it would take too long for you to heal yourself.

How did he sneak up on you two so quickly? Would Suguru be able to stop him? You hoped he would. You prayed he would. Suguru was second only to Satoru.

But where was Satoru now?

Your vision faded to black.

___________________________________________________________

Your fingers danced across the piano keys, playing a melody that you forced yourself to become familiar with over the past few weeks. Chopin's Fantasy in F Minor. You had just started to move into more of Chopin's works during your daily practices after your adoptive father asked if you could prepare one of them for him when you returned home after graduation. Something to look forward to, he had said.

You moved through the piece with grace, keeping your posture, arms raised at the perfect angle as you played. You remembered how your mother had instilled playing posture in you when she gave you your first piano lesson at four years old. You had sat on her lap before her keyboard, giggling as she adjusted your hands and put them over her own as she played. Your father, your real father, had sat on the couch and laughed, adding snarky comments here and there.

You look like your father.

Your thoughts faltered only for a moment, but your hands remained active. You just needed to finish the piece perfectly before calling your practice for the day. The grand piano echoed down one of the hallways of Jujustu Tech. The Kamos had made a request to move a piano into an unused classroom to act as your practice room during your time as a student, to which the school agreed.

I don't need the Kamos coming after me for killing their pet dog.

Your parents were the easiest job I ever got.

It was almost stupid, how pathetically they went down for the amount they were worth.

Toji Zen'in had killed your parents. You knew that now. But if the Kamos had ordered your parents death, what did they have to gain?

Your dreams ran rampant with images of your parents, nightmares, watching as Toji Zen'in slit your father's throat. Sometimes it wasn't his throat he was slitting, but your own.

Sometimes it wasn't Zen'in holding the knife, but your adoptive father.

No. The Kamos would never. Never.

One of your fingers slipped and ruined the cord you were playing. You huffed and forced yourself to start from that cord again.

You never figured it out?

Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?

Dog. Dog. Dog.

The piece finished before you realized you were done. You sat there, fingers resting on the keys. Your eyes just stared at the notes in front of you, no more than dark blots and symbols on a white canvas.

This world was never meant to be hers.

The world is still hers because you raised her to believe it.

What was your world anymore? Riko and Kuroi were dead now, killed by Toji a little over a year ago. Suguru was beaten within an inch of his life. And Satoru-

The sliding door opened with a smack, revealing Satoru's peeved face. "You finished ten minutes ago. Why are you still sitting here?"

He was waiting outside? "Sorry, just writing down some notes to myself," you lied as you closed your music and left it to rest on its stand. He never questioned the fact that you didn't even have a pencil. "Is something wrong?" This was the first time that he had ever come near your practice room. You're surprised he even remembered where it was.

"No? Just grabbing you for dinner. Suguru and Shoko are waiting," Satoru stated as he began to walk away from the room with you not far behind. "We're going to that one place I recommended. I came to get you cause I knew you wouldn't answer your phone while you were practicing... didn't want to cut too close to when we planned on leaving."

You sighed. Of course he would "ask" if you wanted to tag along without giving you much of a choice. Your eyes glued themselves onto the back of his neck up to his temple as he walked. The scar that used to peak out from under his shirt collar was long gone, but you pretended it was still there. You could still see it. The spot where Zen'in had stabbed him.

Miraculously, he had finally grasped his reversal technique within his dying moments, saving his own life before he killed Zen'in himself.

It should have been you. You should have been the one to kill him, not that you would have survived anyway. You supposed that if you died fighting the man that killed your parents, you would die with a smile on your face. Maybe if Satoru had known that you wanted it, if you hadn't been in hospice while Satoru had landed the killing blow, he would have let you.

Satoru still didn't know that Toji had killed your parents. No one did. You couldn't find it in yourself to reveal the truth that had changed everything for you to anyone.

You didn't even have a plan for when you graduate, what you would do once you moved back home...

When that scar used to linger on Satoru's skin, he would only smile and thank you whenever he caught you looking at it. Even if it was his outrageous amount of cursed energy that saved him, he gives you the credit for saving his life. Satoru reasoned that if you had not given him lessons in reversal energy, then he wouldn't be standing before you today. You never saw it that way. With his growth, he was bound to learn it at some point anyway.

And Satoru's abilities didn't stop there. He was close to mastering every Six Eyes and Limitless technique known to his clan. He had surpassed Suguru and the rest of the sorcery community months ago. Some were already calling him the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

Sure. Only you had seen the scars that made you think otherwise. Satoru had asked you to heal them off his skin around 6 months ago. Your heart had panged with each inch of the scar he exposed to you, with the largest one having reached all the way from his neck down to his pelvic bone. There were more the had littered his legs, spots were his tendons had been ripped it two. The last one had been on the skin of his temple, hidden under soft white hair, where a blade had entered his head and straight into his brain.

It was after you had finished healing those scars that you told yourself to never pursue him. Not just because you thought of yourself beneath him, but because only a god could have survived those attacks. The world seemed to bow to him and him alone. It scared you. He was still the same boy you had fallen in love with but... ever since Riko's death, he had become something... else.

As you exited the building, you found Shoko and Suguru outside. You noticed Suguru's eyes watching you as you walked down the steps to meet them.

Satoru hadn't been the only one to change that day. While he seemed to move forward at break neck speed, Suguru, to you, seemed lost. Stuck in place, almost as if his consciousness and feelings were consistently stagnant. You couldn't tell what it was, and you hoped Satoru would notice soon. If anyone could tell what was wrong with Suguru, it was him.

"We ready?" Shoko spoke up, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and snuffing it under her boot. Suguru stood.

"Yeah, let's hurry so we can stop for dessert on the way back," Satoru encouraged. The four of you began to walk towards the school entrance.

Satoru leaned down briefly to whisper a "thank you" in your ear. You only shook your head and continued walking.

___________________________________________________________

You had envisioned graduation as something celebratory, as an event that would ring in your memory as your next step into jujutsu sorcery. Instead, it felt hollow, at least on the inside, like something was missing.

Something was missing, no matter how much the three of you tried to ignore it.

Three, not four.

Satoru tried to play it off the best, as if Suguru's betrayal of him and jujutsu society hadn't devastated him both emotionally and mentally. If anything, Suguru had come closer to killing Satoru that day than Toji had the year prior.

But for the three of you, that was normal now. Right after your graduation and small celebration in Shoko's new apartment, Satoru left on a mission that would keep him away for a week. Shoko went back to her job, one that she was now getting paid for as an employee working within the Tokyo headquarters as a jujutsu physican and mortician. However, you returned back home to your family estate.

You didn't want to go back, didn't want to stomach seeing their faces now that your eyes had been opened. You even considered begging Satoru to take you on the mission with him, even if you wouldn't get paid for it. However, you knew he needed the distraction, the space.

As your adoptive father embraced you, you felt like fainting. He could tell something was wrong, but said nothing.

Your only hope was to wait for a mission assignment. You hadn't been assigned missions for a while in the weeks leading up to graduation. It worried you a bit, but you thought that maybe you were going to be given a position similar to Shoko soon, either by her side or in Kyoto. Kyoto would be great. The further from here, the better. For now, all you could do was wait.

To anyone within the Kamo household, it seemed like you had never changed. Your demeanor returned to how it had been when you lived there: indifferent, graceful, and silent.

No, you had changed, and because of that, you could now see how far these walls pressed in on you where you failed to notice them before. You were no longer as obedient and pliant as you once been. Three years as Gojo Satoru's best friend had changed that, for sure. You had forgotten how much of your life you couldn't dictate, all the way from your finances to the kind of clothing you were allowed to wear. Now, these walls felt like confinement, like a hawk in a delicate white bird cage.

You took up a routine similar to the one you used to keep before living at Jujustu Tech. Training in the mornings, piano in the afternoon, entertaining family and guests in the evening. Some days you would meet up with Shoko, and some nights she would graciously offer for you to sleep at her place. She could see how the Kamo house was affecting you, but you both knew you could never stay.

In the days that followed, you would make occasional visits to Jujustu Tech with your adoptive father and other Kamo members. It was here that you would see Satoru in passing, talking with Shoko or Yaga. He somehow seemed to stand straighter, taller, You knew it was for show, but more show than usual. However, when Satoru looked at you... it was different, to say the least, almost like he felt sorry, but when you were able to catch him alone, it was like nothing had changed. It was relief.

"You ever think about moving out of that hell hole?" Satoru mused, chomping down on some frozen dessert he bought earlier. "I certainly would if it meant I didn't have to wear that shit all the time." He gestured to your traditional-Japanese wear.

"It's because this is considered a visit on business. As if I didn't live here for three years..." you groaned, adjusting your collar. "I just have to get used to it again, the routines and the clothes and whatnot."

Satoru hummed. "Y'know... you could always move in with me. My place has like, a gazillion open rooms, and it's quiet. Plus, we can continue our Mario Kart tournaments whenever we want."

You perked up at the offer, but shook your head. "I would, but, I don't think my father would approve of me living in the Gojo household with the unmarried sole Gojo member..."

"What do you mean?" he snickered. "Wait, don't tell me. Is your father trying to set you up for marriage?"

"It's been... discussed."

"Well, whoever he is, must suck to be him." You just hit the remainder of his food out of his hand. "Fuck, okay! Did you really have to do that?" No answer. "Okay, okay, I kinda deserved it. But... why would your dad marry you off? You're not Kamo by blood, so..."

"I dunno, I've been kinda asking myself the same thing. Maybe something to do with the last name and possible advantageous bullshit I don't understand. I've been... I haven't asked," you sighed, crossing you arms and looking out on the training grounds. The chill in the air breezed in through the open doorway, signaling winter's arrival. Only a few months ago, you had practiced your combat and sorcery skills on the very plot of land in front of you, hoping to raise your grade for higher missions or maybe become recognized to work with students here on the campus. You never thought that after graduating you would be so... stuck.

"Well, what if we got married?"

You paused. Did you really hear him correctly?

"It doesn't have to be weird or anything. Just to get you out there and have your dad stop nagging you on this stuff," Satoru shrugged, as if he were offering you a favor or giving you a suggestion. He was doing that, but... did he truly understand the magnitude of what he was saying?

"Are you out of your mind? Satoru, he would never agree to that!" you exclaimed.

"Yeesh, I didn't think you disliked me that much. Personally, I think I would make a wonderful husband," he nagged, a smug grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "My father sees you more as an enemy than a potential ally. He'd probably blow a fuse by just seeing us talking here." Your adoptive father wasn't really appreciative when he learned of the friendship between you and Satoru once you returned home. He even blamed some of your recent misdemeanors and slight attitude on Satoru as well.

"So what? Then would I just have to ask him myself?"

"Why are you so damn adamant on this," you muttered. "If anything, you'd just make the situation worse."

Satoru brushed that comment aside. "I'm adamant because you're my friend, a good friend and..."

You looked to him, quirking an eyebrow at his sudden tone change. "And what...?"

"I just... don't like being alone."

___________________________________________________________

I just don't like being alone.

You stared at your plate of food in front of you, fully untouched. Your appetite felt absent, almost on and off, as it had been since your conversation with Satoru over a week ago.

Ever since that conversation, the thoughts of what your adoptive father actually had planned for your future weighed heavily on you. You began to think about how much your father could dictate between mission and job assignments in the jujustu community and how they could let those trickle down to you. And the only reason for why he would stop you from getting any...

Marriage. Definitely marriage. What other reason could there be?

But to who? And when? And why? With all of these questions, you began to realize that you would probably take Satoru over almost anyone as your husband, just because you knew who he was to begin with and because you got along with him. Your less admitted attraction for him was of the least of your reasons, too.

But then you remembered what the duties of any arranged marriage entailed, not just an alliance, but heirs-

Yeah, you didn't want to think about marriage period. You wondered why the Kamo Clan even needed an advantageous marriage right now anyways. Not to mention, why it had to be you instead of any of the many eligible Kamos. You didn't know exactly what you wanted, but you knew you didn't want to stay here, or anywhere where you felt-

"(Y/N)," your adoptive father murmured your name from across the table. He had requested to have dinner with just you today. Why, you had zero clue, but you tried to remain calm. "Are you unwell?"

"Apologies, Father... just, thinking..." you whispered, unable to look up at him. You found it hard to be in his presence already, let alone make eye contact with him as of recent.

Your adoptive father sighed, and then spoke, "You're thinking about why I asked to have dinner alone, and if this means what I'm about to tell you..."

Your heart skipped a slight beat, blood creeping through your veins with reluctant fear. "Yes..."

"Well then, I suppose I should ease your mind then..."

Your sense stilled with a sudden anticipation, as if every nerve in your body waited to watch.

"I have chosen a suitor for you. One I'm sure you'll be pleased with," he said, a proud yet firm thrill in his tone. For some reason, Satoru's face flashed in your thoughts, despite the the cold that now settled in your spine.

"I see..." Your shoulders caved a little, the news still hitting you as unexpectent, like some part of you still hoped that he was going to give you what you wanted: solitude and space to find your own purpose, to discover what you wanted your world to be...

"You are to marry into the Kamo bloodline, to Haruto."

Haruto. As in his youngest son. Your adoptive brother.

That was the final nail in your coffin. You would never be able to leave.

___________________________________________________________

You didn't cry. You didn't move. You weren't even sure you were breathing.

Your adoptive father could sense your apparent shock, and allowed you to excuse yourself to your room to give yourself time to think. A small, hidden mercy.

He was waiting for you back in the dining room, going to be expecting an answer, or maybe even thanks.

Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?

Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog-

You are to marry into the Kamo bloodline, to Haruto.

The last words your father said before you left the room sounded in your head the loudest: With your technique mixed with our blood, we can finally have techniques level to, if not above, the Gojos. Be merry, (Y/N). You will finally be one of us.

Everything made so much sense now.

He wanted you for your technique. You were never a Kamo, you were of no use to him except for this.

He killed your parents to get your technique.

He killed your parents. Ordered the hit so Toji could murder them to cover himself, and then steal you while he pretended to head an investigation.

To get you. To get your technique into the Kamo bloodline. To become a breeding mare to his son.

Your adoptive father killed your parents.

You bit back your scream, your anguish, your tears. A lifetime as a sorcerer had taught you how to channel that anger, that fear... and it taught you how to use it as well.

Your hand reached for the gilded knife that you always kept beneath your pillow. It had been a graduation gift from him.

Your breath hitched. Were you really going to do this? He took you in where you would have had no one, gave you shelter and security, trained you as a child and comforted you as well-

But it doesn't matter.

He killed your parents.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru's body always seemed to move faster than his brain. Especially now.

Snow crunched beneath his boots as he strode, thick and packed from that morning's snow storm. The night remained clear, moonlight shining off the stone path to the Kamo household like watery gems.

If anything, the biting cold made he want to turn back, but he wouldn't stop, couldn't. He knew that he had to do something about your situation, not just for you, but for himself too.

Satoru knew the best course of action would be to strike this agreement as soon as he could, when your adoptive father would least expect it, to catch him off guard. He could do the convincing part later, even if his true reasonings didn't matter in this case.

But what should he say? He's never asked anyone's father if he can marry their daughter, let alone when that father is the leader of the Kamo Clan and when that daughter is also you, his friend, his... everything now, he realized. He had nothing left but you-

There was a body on the front steps.

Satoru rushed forward, quickly, almost too quickly, recognizing you-

You were bruised, bloody, completely stripped of your clothing, face down in the snow-

Shit. What did they do? How long have you been here?

Satoru immediately sensed the servants, no, Kamo members, by their cursed energy, walking towards the door. He needed to get you out of here, make sure you were alive-

Satoru practically tore his coat off, wrapping your body and taking you into his arms. When the sliding door opened, the only trace of you was your blood on the steps.

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