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buttercupblu · 4 months ago

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Satoru's Psyche|Surfacing

"Power dynamics, they're fluid."

Session 1 of 10|Next Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Routine patient visit and care performed. Patient is stable, mostly corporative, and only mildly rowdy today. Vitals are clear, appetite is normal, nothing of interest to report other than slightly abnormal behavior resulting in the [REDACTED] incident, pending Nurse deliberation on how to proceed with patient disciplinary action. 📋 Length of Session (w.c): 5.2k out of "we will cross that bridge when we get to it 🤠" 💊Intake Chart (tags): this is a full-blown AU with a slowww build-up, yandere-ish behavior, pet names, angst, compulsive flirter Gojo (he literally cannot help it), mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️doctor's angel’s note: there’s something very, very special about how this story was born. extended author’s note at the end of this chapter if you’re curious|kk I'm done talking - enjoy Satoru’s Psyche. 🎼 Waiting room music: Child's Play|SZA

They all worshipped the strongest.

But no one saw the man; no one noticed the cracks until it was too late.

The first appeared after the Star Plasma Vessel mission—Gojo's near-death experience and first awakening.

Then, it was his best friend, Suguru Geto. His betrayal, death. Murder.

The blood on Gojo's hands left such a deep mark.

Devastation. Irreparable damage.

No matter what Gojo did after that, death followed him like a loyal dog.

And when the final crack happened in the Prison Realm, with no distraction from his own thoughts and burdens and painstakingly harsh reality, Satoru Gojo bent..then snapped.

He can't remember what happened after being unsealed.

All he knew was the blood that came afterward.

Apparently, he went on a rampage, but in his psyche, it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered.

And he didn't feel guilt—not in the slightest.

They must have gotten what they deserved, right?

The thoughts were deafening.

But Gojo’s natural tendency to play the hero was even louder and got the best of him. The realization of what he’d done was haunting—plaguing and persuading him like a Devil in his ear until he turned himself in to shut the voices the fuck up.

Once again, good ruled over evil and the world was safe.

In Gojo's own sick and twisted way, he had once more saved the day.

And as a thank you? He's here, in a fucking straitjacket, seals all around to make his cursed energy dormant. At least, that's what those old fools believe…

Gojo can't help but scoff, recalling all their nonsense.

“You're unstable. The mind needs to be healed.”

Blah fucking blah. What a load of bullshit.

However, society never took too kindly to a little mass murder, so fine.

Gojo will play nice... for now.

And for the most unexpected reason why.

His grin only deepens, a borderline predatory look as he hears those familiar footsteps.

Ah...how wonderful.

“There you are.”

The man waits by the door, shoulder framing your entrance and leaning on the wall. Welcoming, warm and expectantly, before the locks can disengage.

Like many times before, your eyes meet through the window pane. A dull blue under snowy white lashes, heavy and following yours, but barely piercing the plastic—small and artificial—only a thin layer of careful separation, but you both see right through it. Neutrality on your face but wavering sharpness in your eyes. And a glint in his as the familiar buzz! ushers you into his world.

“How’s my favorite nurse?” he asks like a broken record. All casual-like, as if his arms aren’t meticulously tucked into tight restraints that work hard against his muscled frame. “Missed your favorite psychopath?”

He couldn’t sound more arrogant, but still has to smirk watching you brush past him—expecting nothing less—but feels a different air.

There’s a pep in your step, carrying you into the stark white room and making it impossible to miss the subtle sway of your hips and dangling supply bag on your arm. Naturally fluid as if you’re oblivious to its sensual nature.

Gojo rarely saw you wear any emotion on your sleeve, let alone what he thought was hints of joy, but something was slipping through the cracks.

And what’s that? A slight grin on your face?

What exactly do we have here?

This attitude is foreign. Better than the blank slate or frequent exhaustion you usually walk in with, but this was a side of you that was unfamiliar.

What’s got you in such a mood, he wonders? And what else could it be, if not him?

It’s all because today is an “okay day”. And in places like your ward, “okay” is as good as gold.

Rounds have been fairly simple in the usually chaotic hospital—a small win if you put things in perspective, but it’s enough for you to feel good about it.

Hell, with the way things usually go around here, it feels like Christmas came early and you got just what you wanted.

A big, whopping present called “all of your co-workers showing up to work”. The standard for most workplaces but here, such miracles only exist in your daydreams to get through your usually fucked schedule.

But not today. Today, the angels personally visited your ward to carry your burdens and lighten your load. For the first time in months, you didn’t groan the second you saw your patient roster for the day and instead had to do a doubletake because the list was surprisingly short. Only your regulars sat on it and that could only happen if the ward was fully-staffed.

You thought it was a mistake when you checked the schedule this morning, but no, everyone’s name sat prettily on the sign-in sheet at the front desk—a sight you hadn’t seen since orientation and was confirmed with every familiar and slightly foreign face you passed in the halls.

There were no call-outs, no extra work, and the best part, no unexpected shift changes.

Overtime would not get its hands on you today and the thought alone made you feel lighter because enough time is spent in these melancholy walls as is.

With thoughts on the week’s end, you found yourself drifting through the day on autopilot. Wondering if you should make plans—doubtful you’ll see them through—and time seemed to be flying by with your thoughts. Following the rarely-seen routine you know like the back of your hand helped you blaze through the morning and grow closer to sweet rest for your already aching feet.

Miracles were coming in left and right, proof that today just might be your day. It’s still early, but no one had broken out of their room or flung any property around yet. Guards sit comfy and reclined at their posts, lounging around more than they’re being called, and you haven’t even had to run off to the lockers to change your scrubs that are usually ruined by now. Luck is keeping you high and dry—free from accidents or patient tantrums, both of which are all too common. And always seem to have your name on them.

But the cherry on top, second to none, pièce de résistance.

Is a possibility.

Just the teeniest, tiniest, sliver of a chance…to walk out of these doors early.

Be still your beating heart.

Early release?? Unheard of. You almost skipped through the halls thinking about it. Dreaming of the reclaimed time—the deliciously healthy heap of rest.

With no signs of trouble, aside from forcing yourself to chug a wildly unhealthy energy drink to fight off tendrils of sleep, you just may be in the clear.

Things seem steady in the sleepy ward today. So sure, you’re in a relatively good mood.

But is it good enough to deal with Gojo?

It puzzles you, how he always knows you’re coming before he sees you. How he sort of announces your presence before you get the chance. Like the honor belongs to him.

The psychopath.

Your head tilts at the diagnosis, hearing it come from his lips for the first time. Even if unseriously.

He’s self-aware, at least. Not that the confession makes your visits any easier.

Over time, after working so closely with a personality like Gojo’s, you’ve learned to take everything he says with a grain of salt. Especially when it comes from such shameless lips.

Answering his question with an eye-roll, you set your supplies down to pull out your clipboard and check his vitals. Something that once upon a time made your palms sweat and throat dry, but never showed on your face. You knew what the role required, what it would need for you to survive—intimidation and cowardice were not a part of it—and eventually, after you banged that into your head enough, even if you had to fake it til you made it, you became used to the routine.

As has Gojo, complying with each step on the checklist like it was second nature. Walking over to his favorite spot to be taken care of, the bed. Lifting his tongue to take his temperature. Offering his arm to check his blood pressure. Noting that his eyes aren’t bad today—not needing to wear his blindfold due to the security system. Doing it all without needing you to say a word. All within his control.

But the one thing he can’t get a grip on is how his heart begins to beat. Every time like clockwork the moment you lay a hand on his back to listen to it. Racing in his chest—thumping through your stethoscope—while he wears the calmest face.

Curiosity called you after noticing it a few times once you determined it wasn’t a condition. Guaranteed to start up with the gentlest touch that he was surely used to.

So, what exactly goes on in his mind in these moments? Despite hiding it so well?

What could possibly be making Tokyo’s most unhinged, mass-murderer, so flustered?

You never have much time to think about it because it won’t matter in the next few seconds anyway. Sitting still enough to get through vitals was as serious as Gojo gets, making the quickest part of your visits with him the easiest.

Everything that follows the second you put your kit away is pure…surprise.

“So…are you gonna undo the straps this time, sweet nurse? My arms are sore.”

He pouts. Sweetly. So devilishly charming. As he did so often with a flash of those cerulean, blue eyes that could make and break hearts.

You sigh. One could almost forget that by society’s standards, he’s a “dangerously unstable individual.”

Something you’re acutely aware of. And trained for. Which is why you don’t mind the coquettish jabs he throws your way—and why he keeps on throwing them.

You aren’t aware but these hourly visits, along with his agreement to stay put, are the only reasons why he’s still here despite being Satoru fucking Gojo and simply walking out. It’s not like anyone could stop him if they really wanted to, and he knew that.

Truth is—it pissed Gojo off, being stuck here. Cooperative. It was fucking irritating, to say the least.

He’d rather be tortured than bored and might’ve second-guessed his decision to surrender if he knew the punishment would be…this.

But lo and behold, here you are. Relief in the flesh while he bides his time. One that he wasn’t expecting.

“You sure are possessive today.” You hide a smirk, draping the stethoscope around your neck, his heartbeat returning to normal after losing your touch. “Am I really your favorite?” The leather straps hug his pale skin a bit tightly, but his mobility is good enough to ignore his request to loosen them. That would be suicide.

He tsks, eyes sparkling at your words—a warning glimmer hidden beneath the icy gaze.

Chilling. But the least bit surprising.

Gojo and cattiness go together like love and war—and he wears it with his whole chest.

Even when unprovoked, he’s known for being….testy. Trying his hand again and again until he gets some kind of reaction. Waiting to see what makes someone bite.

But there was something disingenuous about this petty quirk. The repetition and how it seemed to lack a goal. How he seemed almost…desperate for interaction—attention—any attention.

Eventually, once you sat in his face long enough to learn how to disassociate with a straight face, you figured out that he just loves to hear himself talk. Like that one kid in class who’s always inserted themselves into every conversation and made it about them.

He rarely gives you a hard time though—less than most of your other patients in fact—and usually sends more kisses than cuts. Occasionally, when you find them…okay, or tolerable enough, you indulge him and this charade between you two—like the high school crush it resembled. Strict. But harmless.

And you’re only entertaining him now because he’s one of your last patients for the day. A fact not lost on him, but disregarded nonetheless. Even if you were just playing along, he knew there had to be more depth. All the masks in the world couldn’t hide that smile on your face.

His laugh breaks the tension. “I'm a yapper, not a liar...Am I yours?” He raises a brow. “You didn’t answer me earlier.”

His low tone carries an unspoken weight. Cryptic. Eerie. Needy. Almost calling you like a possession more frequently than ever.

It isn’t lost on you that his affections have blossomed as you’ve spent more time together. Visits are supposed to be 10, 15 minutes tops—collect vitals, serve meals, give meds, and avoid accidents. But Gojo? He drinks up your time. Going on 30, sometimes 45 minutes of routine maintenance and “extra care”. This wasn’t standard practice, but they didn’t tell you that, among other things when you accepted the position.

Every time you cross Gojo’s threshold, you’re reminded that you’re not actually supposed to be here. You’re just a nurse after all, not a therapist, and lacked the credentials to even begin to handle a patient like Gojo. But in the end, qualifications don’t matter when his staff has a famous history of running away.

A fate shared by his previous nurse and therapist. Both fell victim to Gojo’s whimsical and relentless personality and suffered a mental breakdown from hell before quitting the ward. Capacity for hospitality completely shot, they nailed the coffin shut by ditching the healthcare industry altogether.

And that was after only a few hours.

In the beginning, you had absolutely no faith in yourself. Swore it was a sick joke as you couldn’t begin to fathom why they would even consider you for the job.

You??

Gojo the Psycho’s nurse? It would’ve been easier to turn in your resignation right then to avoid living in hell.

You wondered how your life would change as you got to know the world’s most hated man.

How long you would last—if he would let you.

Anxiety and nausea gnawed at the back of your throat as time grew closer to meeting him. But eventually, after running the scenario in your head a million times over and trying to come up with some sort of plan or plea for your life, the day came, and you stood before the unpredictable man who looked like he saw right through you.

Just the idea of being in Gojo’s presence is enough to let you know it’ll be unnerving.

But the moment was…odd.

Naturally, you wanted rely on book smarts and previous patient experiences to get you through what you knew would be a short and traumatic failed attempt at connection. But then you took a second to really look at Gojo, not study, but a kind of look that catches something…a conflict in his eyes—and instantly knew he was no ordinary patient.

He was something you’d never met before, and any attempts to use a cookie-cutter facade would quickly be chewed up and spat out.

So, you went with your gut—hoping to escape with some remnants of your sanity at least.

Who knew you’d end up surprising not only yourself but also the Director and all the other staff in the ward who watched with held breaths?

Gojo practically welcomed you with open arms. Flashing his pearly whites and dimples in a closed-eyed smile. You could hear a pin drop.

He didn’t bark, he didn’t bite. Only teased, feeding you sultry words with cunning lips until your face visibly flushed with blush. They didn’t warn you about charm. Debatibly the “worst” part about working with the blue-eyed lady-killer. Or that his devilishly handsome face would make you second-guess his sanity and guilt.

But you knew what this was. Or at least what it wasn’t and quickly put on blinders to every distraction he threw. Holding your breath the whole way through and surprising yourself every time you walked out his room. After your trial period had run for a few days with no mishaps—the opposite, really— you were promoted. And given a big, fat new check (certainly not for collateral).

You didn’t know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or concern.

Congratulations! You were now in charge of Gojo’s physical AND mental health.

Which meant longer, more thorough visits.

The idea was nerve-racking for weeks, to say the least. And because he has the nerve to be a karate-chopping ‘sorcerer’ or whatever it is that makes the man so dangerous, he needs careful safeguarding. Which means having his very own wing and accommodations in the ward. The only barriers between Gojo and doing whatever the hell he wants is one guard stationed near the entrance and some type of security system they can’t disclose to you. It’s supposed to suppress his abilities or something, you don’t quite understand itself yourself, but most importantly, it keeps him tame.

Still, choosing to grace his space almost daily always feels like tempting a snake.

But somebody has to do it.

And in a way, by his own means, offering a satisfied grin and all, Gojo had chosen you.

Even in the confines of a cell, with seemingly nothing left to live for and no room for emotions, you, this wonder, have managed to catch his eye. In a way that made him want to sink his teeth in and soak up your attention. For reasons you couldn’t be more unsure of.

“It would break my heart if it weren’t true,” he continues, sitting in the only chair in the room, “You’re my entertainment, you know? My doll to play with.”

You scoff, arms folding. The word doll echos in your ear like a chamber. That was a new one.

“You sure talk a lot of game for someone in your situation.”

“I love games.” He leans, eyes drinking in his favorite powdery blue scrubs that hug your frame in an all too professional manner. “Play with me, Nurse.”

Time belonged to Gojo, and he chooses to bide it with a little fun until release—or escape. His ever-changing mind hasn’t decided yet but it was far from a concern. Because the truth of this truce was painfully obvious. He knew he wouldn’t be here forever. And is quick to mention that he’d love to take you with him.

“If you can handle me.” He licks his lip. “Unless I’m too much for you.”

And there it is. That cool smile that sends shivers down spines. Irresistibly stirring your core every time he parts his lips.

You hated it—no one could deny his charm or his intimidating presence. Even in chains, shackled and restrained, he maintains some kind of control: crumbling walls with his charisma, waving around his amorous, overassertive reputation like a big red flag.

But you’ve already proven to not be like the rest, easily swayed or reduced to puddles. Your wall is firm. Solid. He baits you time and time again—a smile here, a sinful gaze there—only to be met with dismissive yawns. Rousing something inside of him that deemed you a challenge. Something worth exploring. You were…difficult.

You’re the one who laughed this time, shaking your head and tucking a hair behind your ear. He oozes confidence from every fiber of his being—and bores you.

“Are you going to tell me what you’d like to lunch today or just keep bothering me?”

And goddammit he has the audacity to grin. To tuck his lip under his teeth slow enough to make you catch it.

Your insolence is adorable, yet maddening; a cocktail he drinks with delight before realizing how much he loves the taste.

You were becoming really good at it, beating up his ego and turning a blind eye to his silly little flirts, but interest never faded from his gaze no matter how careless you seemed. Or were trying to.

He tsks. “C’mon, Nurse. If I can’t have fun here, where can I? Besides,” Sunlight streams in from his barred window as if on cue. “You’re the only thing here worth talking about.”

Butterflies? Knots? Maybe both fill your stomach.

Neither can be good for you in a situation like this.

The dreamy words whisper sweet nothings into your ear, and stroke your ego with a delicate thumb. Soft and gentle—and from a shell of a man.

A good turned evil.

And you don’t have to look too far to remember how he got here—to remember why the enchanting man before you is dressed in heavy white restraints and public enemy number one.

Guilt tugs at you for even joking around with him sometimes. You picture his victims. The lives forever changed. And how he didn’t seem sorry for it.

Besides, even if Gojo wasn’t a basket-case, it’s hard to look past how childish he is anyway—something you heard has always been a part of him. Something you couldn’t imagine dealing with for too long, even casually. It certainly wasn’t your taste, and under different circumstances, you’d no sooner fall for him outside of these walls than you would now.

But above all of the boundaries, restrictions, and pep-talks you give yourself, is the simple fact that you aren’t the day-one nurse he once knew. Now, you have a backbone and don’t hesitate to remind him.

“You’re such a flirt, Patient Gojo.” You make sure to catch his eye when you say it, “But compliments only get you so far.”

Patient.

It hangs in the air. Brisk and stale. A bit sour on the tip of your tongue. And acid in his ears.

With that, Gojo sits back, resting his cheek on a propped-up arm, gaze long and longing. Breathing slow as he thinks and nerves buzz between you two. Then his request comes, simple and direct.

“How about sushi? Raw and fresh.” And a psych ward delicacy.

He’s the only patient in the entire facility with such privilege—envy-worthy and used to his heart’s content. With full-scale unlimited access to all the gourmet treats and fine dining he could ever want, his meals are often better than the ones you bring to work. Gojo is above common hospital dishes, of course, and his indulgent appetite would accept nothing less.

But it wasn’t just about the food, no, negotiating that was too easy and barely worth mentioning.

This is a conveniently constant reminder that he is still capable of influencing things and making decisions with ease, from those he’s allowed to have access to him, down to his choice of meal.

It intrigues you. How he subdues himself to the masses but finds meaning in smaller wins. What he finds significant.

But none of that mattered right now, you’d finally been given an order and another win, even if it felt like pulling teeth. For now, it’s time to feed him and let him believe whatever he wants.

You pick up his tray from this morning, scanning the room to make sure no cutlery or dishes are missing. “Sushi it is,” you wink and call to be let out.

None of his staff are allowed the room key as a preventative measure to keep his chances of escaping to a minimum. As if a door would stop him but a key does exist and you’ve only seen it on the day the Director introduced you two, and it looked nothing like the keys used for other rooms.

When you come back with lunch, Gojo grows curious. Noticing how your body has relaxed over time, getting used to his presence every time you come in. Little nuisances like how you breathe a little easier in his space and sometimes smile with your eyes when he tells a stupid joke. The air is…changing. He wonders just how comfortable have you gotten?

“Finally back? I started to miss you.” It’s light but he can’t possibly resist testing the waters. “Would you like to eat with me, pet?” And it takes everything in you to suppress a visceral reaction.

He’s on a roll with the names today and you wonder what his affections might have been like in his life before. Sure, he’s a talker and a flirt, that much is obvious, but you wonder what his actual love was like? How did he show it if he ever got to? And if so, if he ever left anybody behind?

“You know the procedure, Gojo.” You wait with the tray in hand, brushing the thoughts away. Though the temptation savor what you knew would be premium cuisine begs you to do it, you know better than to start breaking boundaries now.

He deflates, brows furrowing. “Is it…really so necessary?” He knows the answer, of course.

You gesture for him to turn around but he holds your gaze, having a little stare down like he enjoys the silent confrontation. You raise an annoyed brow. “The food’s getting cold,” and tap the tray.

“It’s sushi.”

You huff.

He smirks before finally facing the wall, stilling his body in the tight jacket. When you’re sure he won't move, you set his food to the side and slowly approach to attach him to the latch on the wall.

Skilled fingers reach across his waist and you have to crouch a little to glide the heavy chain towards the loop at his hip. His skin flushes at your warmth, your proximity, as he can’t help but enjoy the intimacy of the routine power shift. Even if it was a sham, it was still one he reluctantly agreed to. To play nice. To be weak.

But this exchange, giving himself over to your authority, was oddly invigorating—like placing himself in his victim’s shoes to get a minuscule taste of his own medicine.

“Well, don’t look so happy about it,” he chuckles. Relief finds your face as you gently tug on the chain to make sure it’s secure, amusing the man towering over you.

The thoroughness is cute, all a part of a job well done and strict boundaries that drive a heavy wedge between you two. But it doesn’t bother Gojo. Because he’s certain, he knows, that your guarded walls will crumble sooner than later. All it takes is patience.

“Remember, Nurse,” he doesn’t turn around, “Power dynamics….they’re fluid.”

And you can almost hear the wink—the implied warning living on his slick tongue that pokes and prods with every interaction and sends heat to your rosy cheeks.

“You have a way with words, Gojo.” Again your eyes roll as you reach for the key to his restraints. The shackles fall to the ground, shrilling in the mostly empty room to allow him to feed himself.

A mix of groans and relief escapes his lips as he relishes the freedom from the stiff leather. He sighs, “Thank you, Nurse.” and rubs his tender wrists before abruptly filling your space. Nearly knocking you off your feet, but stopping just shy of your face. The monstrous chains strain against the wall, playing tug of war with the beast of a man and the florescent lights cast a spotlight on the sudden distance between you two.

You had never been this close.

“But don’t forget, I can turn these roles around. Anytime.”

Twinkles play in his eyes, dazzling you with a shine so bright you can see your reflection. But you also see the unhinged nature behind them just as easily as he sees the quiver of your lip feeling his breath graze the curve of your neck and raise goosebumps on your skin.

This isn’t just idle banter. It’s a stark reminder of Gojo’s capabilities that you had grown comfortable enough to forget. That you thought maybe you had become the exception to.

As he steps back and leans against the wall he could’ve torn down, there’s an unmistakable silence filling with tension. Hot and sharp like pins and needles. But instead of pushing you to run for the hills, to quit while you’re ahead and savor what’s left of the life you know, for once, your unrelenting mind dares to wonder where this twisted ballet will go.

It kills you to admit that their is something interesting about cat-and-mouse game he thinks you’re playing. Just as his affections have grown, your thoughts push you to imagine what could happen if you were actually…caught..

It’s idiotic, you know. You don’t need a sign telling you not to play with your life.

This is Satoru fucking Gojo, for Godsake. The murderer. The villain. A literal stain on the face of humanity.

Forget about what he may have been before. You never saw that Gojo, and he’ll never be seen again.

Your motto has always been that everyone is redeemable—but these types, Gojo’s type, are so beyond saving that it feels more like babysitting than redeeming a mentally unstable murderous toddler who could destroy a city in seconds.

Even for a man who speaks so carelessly, but teases a sugary-sweet tongue, it’s easy to see how and why he ended up here. Life had made him an example.

Proving that too much of a good thing will always spoil.

And as you watch him turn a wink and begin to casually snack on his meal, completely unconcerned with you or your reaction or response, it’s plain to see that his “affections” spare no one. Not even you.

You clear your throat and steady a breath. With the lightest voice you can muster, you remind him, “Empty threats are the best you can do, patient.” And turn to leave.

“I’ll be back later for your bath. Or maybe send someone else. Since you’re so excitable today.”

He pauses. “Oh?”

Is that a challenge?

His laugh echoes around the room like something out of a cartoon, fading away just as quickly as it came. He leans back, hair blending into the wall as he licks bits of rice off his thumbs—gaze sharp despite the jest.

Because the stakes are clear and you’re both aware.

But in case you don’t know the consequences he asks, “Do I seem threatened to you?”

You shift your weight. If Gojo is anything, he’s always playful. The man does not have a serious bone in his body, which makes him damn near intolerable sometimes, but it’s something you’re used to it. But not this tone. This tone has rocks in it, hard and heavy as he calls your bluff.

“Because my threats—,” he continues eating, “—are never empty.” He pops the last roll into his mouth. “You sure you wanna do this?”

There’s no denying the chill running up your spine at those words—playing out like casual banter over lunch instead of the battle royale it was.

As if the question were rhetorical, he adds, “Okay but like,” and coughs up another laugh, as if finding the entire idea ridiculous. “Who’d be dumb enough to replace you?”

To feed or not to feed? Now was a chance to bail out.

“Don’t worry about that.” And you don’t as you call to the guard, hoping to catch your break on time. “Just behave yourself.” Gojo would keep you here playing 20 questions all day if he could.

A bemused smile settles on his face and he shakes his head at your antics.

You were becoming increasingly enjoyable to interact with. And steadily digging yourself into a hole. You’ve been sitting front-row to the darkness within him enough times to be sure it is, in fact, very real, but still it’s impossible to ignore that there’s something driving you to pick up the shovel.

It isn’t just his pretty face and boyish charm. No.

It’s like he wants to get under your skin. In the best way.

Yeahhhh, this death wish is turning you every way but loose.

It’s silly, so stupid to even think about. Giving Gojo a smidge of an inch just because you feel there may be something more. Like there’s depth to his pretty words and clashing ways. Who's to say any of it is “real” anyway? He is insane after all.

Your mind and the door shut behind you, and you turn to peer at him through the small window. A mischievous yet bored look rests on his face.

You think you actually will send someone else. Just to show him what happens when he crosses the line. To reinforce business and boundaries.

You could also use a break yourself—Gojo is starting to feel… claustrophobic these days and if you aren’t careful who knows what could happen.

“Choose wisely,” came his voice from within the room,. “Every move you make counts. And cheating has consequences.” Footsteps approach the door. “You may think tagging out is all it takes to avoid our game, but let me tell you something…” He stops. “...you underestimate how quickly I can escape confinement before I’m noticed.”

And suddenly, this isn’t just a game anymore. And Gojo isn’t just some harmless tease.

Your throat is too tight to swallow and you fidget with your lanyard as if responding to his words.

Of course, he’s capable of breaking free. That’s not what’s worrying. But if it was because of you poking the bear, you trying to get on even ground with him and have the upper hand, would you be responsible if he did?

“No matter where they send you or who they send instead—” And Gojo’s comment makes it crystal clear.

“—I promise you, you’ll end up right back here.”

extended angel's note: first and foremost, just to give credit where credit is due, this is a chatbot i turned into a short story🧍🏾‍♀️. it was actually my first time dicking around with janitor a.i. back in like...april? and i came across this gojo bot with a suuuuper interesting prompt. [all of the prompt idea and calibration credit goes to the original creator.] i didn’t decide to actually get serious and start creating a story until around the end of part 2 - i realized i was having too much fun and was in too deep 🙇🏾‍♀️. SO after my decision to indulge madness, i didn't want to run up 10000 messages on janitor a.i. and decided to create the rest of the story on my own from there. everything after the prompt are my own words and i've had to weave every last bit of part 1 and 2 into a coherent story but everything afterwards is all me.

you can find the chatbot and play around with it yourself here but i strongly recomment doing so after finishing this short - think of it as a choose your own adventure afterwards in case you want my head on a stick after the ending 🤠.

tags list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @blkkizzat @kiwismoother @rune1920 @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @startatdawn @heijihatsutori

@inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk @rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping

@sims-4lifers @bratidol @hyunsuks-beanie @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111

@supsiii @natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko

@strawberrymilkshakes-posts @nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow

#bluuharem #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #Satoru Psyche

858 notes · View notes

diejager · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! I'm not sure if you're still doing/taking requests for the monster!141 au anymore so feel free to just ignore this if you aren't! 😊

But if u are can I request a drabble/headcanon about venom!hunter? I'm curious about the dynamic between them (venom & hunter) and how they got along and worked together (i don't really know how to phrase it🥲) when they first met.

Also how did they first met? How does venom get along with 141? I'm not sure if u already wrote about it.

Venom!reader headcanon

Cw: blood, gore, cannibalism?, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 898

Your meeting with Venom was an accident, a coincidence culminated from horrible events, you weren’t supposed to separate from your squad and he wasn’t supposed to die in the body of an incompatible vessel. It was a moment of shame and disgrace, making the simplest mistake one could do in your positions, but everything had a reason, no? Because you found Venom and he found you, he was your way back and you were his compatible vessel.

It was… difficult at first, sharing one mind and body with someone else took some time. A lot of time. It was a struggle of push and pull, your calm waters and his violent storm. While you preferred to stray from trouble, Venom loved it, actively seeking it out whenever he had control of your body. There was a lot of fighting, internal struggles and bickering back and forth, but you eventually came to an understanding —common ground.

If he let you live your life - a dangerous one filled with blood and violence, still a young private in the army without any achievements and with big dreams - have monopoly over your body whenever you were off the field, you’d relinquish your key on his cage whenever he was hungry while you were fighting, letting his loose to run his rampage and fill his stomach with the heads of enemies.

It was a relationship built on mutual respect, you for his determination and him for you strength. You understood one another, so your occasional disagreement grew rarer and rarer. You didn’t fight about feeding him only chocolate because you couldn’t stomach the sight of bitten heads. You didn’t fight about wanting excitement when times were too quiet. You didn’t fight when you wanted a few moments of silence in your mind. And you didn’t fight whenever you felt him poke his head out of your sleeve.

This symbiotic relationship only meant that you;d grow closer to each other, he got to know you on a fundamental level and you got to discover more and more about his past and dreams —he had a few wild ones, but all attainable. You shared your fears, your secrets and your pains, you laughed when he stammered after your promise to protect him, his blubbering words and growls sent your way when he said that he would be the one to do the protecting. His reasoning being that he was bigger, stronger and more dangerous than you and your little explosive weapons.

It was from then on that he called you Little One, a slip of his tongue while you laughed and kicked your legs at his flustered face, his head reaching from your shoulder to glare at you. He acted like a love sick puppy afterwards, often calling out to you when he was bored, nudging your arm while you worked, wanting pets and kisses, or would shower you with loud and boisterous affection. Though he always proclaimed it to be him providing for you, it wasn’t affection - no - it was him watching over you like a guardian —or so he mumbled.

He would step in if he deemed a situation too dangerous for your fragile, fleshy body. He’d warn you, let you know where and who was coming for you, be it a sniper from a mile away or a group of armed soldiers sneaking around you. If you couldn’t deal with it in time, Venom would forcefully push his way out of you, covering you in a protective layer of his body, the mass of muscle and sinewy cords building a protective shell. And fortunately, it’s only happened when you were hidden away, the knowledge of Venom’s existence would bring unwanted attention to both you and him, none of which were good.

You met Venom before your study and test for the rank of combat medic, getting his support and mind to help you through it all, his photogenic memory, his talented hands and strength. It was only after earning you new rank, did Laswell contact you for the position on the Task Force 141 since your record held no sign of hateful acts towards monsters and hybrids, and your high success score.

You both vowed to keep Venom a secret from anyone, he was off the record in every sense, unknown and a mystery, a variant that you were adamant to keep a secret. Venom didn’t… hate the men, he might’ve had a small dislike for their attraction and affection towards you, he was a possessive and protective symbiote, but seeing how you were a permanent fixture in the TF, he was forced to tolerate them. He would let you know what he heard and sensed from them, small secrets he caught or fun, little pranks that he wanted to do, and occasionally protect them. Only because you cared for them, he’d hate to see you sad and worried, Venom preferred seeing you smile and laugh.

And following these events, Venom could openly interact with the hybrids, unafraid since it wasn’t a secret anymore. He was a bit reluctant, but slipped from your collar whenever someone mentioned something he liked: chocolate, human meat, you or violence, grinning maniacally and flashing his big, white teeth. Despite his apprehension, Venom was a menace, to them as much as he was with you, and yet you still loved him so much.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-nooraa @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

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diorsluv · 8 months ago

Text

casual , part 9

“ i have anger issues ”

series m. list previous chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, edwards.73, and 154,238 others

yourusername hughes-a-palooza ⁉️

tagged: lhughes_06, jackhughes, _quinnhughes

view all comments

username58 WE NEED WEEKLY HUGHES A PALOOZA POSTS

→ yourusername idk about weekly bae..

→ username47 at least monthly please 😭😭 yourusername

colecaufield quinn?!?!?!

→ _quinnhughes oh god

→ yourusername LMFAOOO

→ trevorzegras more blackmail 😈

_quinnhughes mom didn’t let you and luke sit together on planes for a reason

→ yourusername i accidentally spill coffee on him once and then all of a sudden i’m banned from sitting next to him 😔

→ lhughes_06 it was not an accident.

→ yourusername YES IT WAS??

→ jackhughes rosie i watched you PICK THE CUP UP and pour it on his lap

→ yourusername I LIE ABOUT A TON OF SHIT BUT I NEVER DID THAT????

→ _quinnhughes wtf no she just separated you because you were annoying as hell

→ lhughes_06 oh

→ yourusername erm…

username32 STOP the toy story costumes are too adorable

username77 BABY QUINN

username91 omg i need to see all the baby photo albums right now

adamfantilli so when were you gonna tell me you’ve been cosplaying since you were 3

→ yourusername it’s called dressing up for halloween 😐😐

→ adamfantilli which is technically cosplaying

→ luca.fantilli bro why are you so obsessed with cosplaying

→ rutgermcgroarty do you have something you wanna tell us adam???

→ adamfantilli 🤐

→ g.brindley4 is that why i found a red and white wig in your closet the other day??

→ yourusername MY HERO COSPLAY?? 😭

→ markestapa todoroki cosplay is insane

vivianliu ADORABLE ADORABLEEE

→ yourusername 🫶

edwards.73 the costumes r cute

→ yourusername you seem super thrilled!!!!

→ edwards.73 cuz they’re cute but you’re cuter

→ yourusername oh 😨

→ markestapa this is quite public if i do say so myself

→ lhughes_06 🤢🤢

→ mackie.samo i actually threw up reading this

→ edwards.73 mackie you’re quite literally sick right now

username85 i want my kids to be like this

username13 jim n ellen got us with the good pics ‼️

_alexturcotte did you and jack always match costumes??

→ yourusername our mom switched it every year but jack was the best costume twin 😔😔

→ _quinnhughes okay our lorax and onceler costume was good though

→ yourusername …….no!

→ colecaufield who was the lorax???

→ yourusername take a wild guess 😑

→ _quinnhughes you lost rock paper scissors fair and square yourusername

username68 BABY HUGHES PICS ALERT 🚨🚨🚨

dylanduke25 i like how you and quinn NEVER have pics together

→ yourusername i have yet to find a picture of only us in an old photo

username49 WOODY AND JESSIE AHHH

rutgermcgroarty when will you post the pics of us 😔

→ yourusername rut sweetie they’re my BROTHERS i have to post them occasionally

→ yourusername and also i just posted us???

→ rutgermcgroarty you have an entire album of us.

→ yourusername i have one for vivi too and i barely post me and her 😰😰

→ rutgermcgroarty SIX. HUNDRED. PHOTOS.

→ mackie.samo 600????

→ rutgermcgroarty 694 to be exact 😒

→ markestapa SO BASICALLY 700?!?!?!?!

→ colecaufield what happened to the other boyfriend

→ dylanduke25 yk rosie if i didn’t know who your not-boyfriend is, i would think it was rut

→ rutgermcgroarty ..duker that’s not a good thing

→ dylanduke25 i know

username62 i will be dressing my children up in toy story costumes thank you.

markestapa i’ve never heard him scream in agony so loudly before

→ yourusername wait what??? what happened to him

→ markestapa you and your little “best friend”

→ yourusername WE’RE JUST BEST FRIENDS THO

→ rutgermcgroarty yeah that’s all there is

yourusername

liked by _alexturcotte, luca.fantilli, and 97,255 others

yourusername went on a cooking rampage tn 🫢

view all comments

edwards.73 that food looks pretty good im not gonna lie

→ yourusername yeah this random guy made it for me

→ edwards.73 random???

→ yourusername mhm it was so weird.. he had the key to my apartment and everything

→ edwards.73 man i think that’s pretty unsafe rosie

→ yourusername it’s okay tho i thought he was cute so i let him stay ☺️

→ edwards.73 oh 😳

luca.fantilli LET HER COOK 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

→ yourusername aaaaaand you’re blocked

→ markestapa LET HER COOK 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

→ rutgermcgroarty LET HER COOK 😝😝😝😝😝😝

→ dylanduke25 LET HER COOK 😈😈😈😈😈😈

→ mackie.samo LET HER COOK 😼😼😼😼😼😼

→ yourusername you’re all HORRIBLE

→ luca.fantilli 😘

→ markestapa 😘😘

→ rutgermcgroarty 😘😘😘

→ dylanduke25 😘😘😘😘

→ mackie.samo 😘😘😘😘😘

trevorzegras goddamn big back lemme have some

→ yourusername ⁉️⁉️⁉️

→ jackhughes u just got clipped bro

→ _quinnhughes 📸

username75 is that… HIM??

username90 bae stop actin like you don’t know we know it’s ethan

username23 AWW cooking date so cute

_alexturcotte oh are those brownies for me 😁

→ yourusername you n trev r always trying to steal my food bro 😒😒

→ _alexturcotte what can i say ur a good cook

→ yourusername U CALLED MY PASTA SHIT

username6 stop the plating is so gourmet

colecaufield you and luke’s gf are like the same person

→ yourusername LUKE??? GF???? WHENNNNN?????? lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 thanks a lot cole

→ yourusername EXPLAIN

→ jackhughes you know her veeeeeery well

→ yourusername VIVIAN?!?!?!

→ vivianliu oh god no 😭😭

username44 cole’s stirring up the family drama

username19 damnn those cookies r looking good girl

→ yourusername i tried to perfect my recipe 😈

rutgermcgroarty name drop the guy rn

→ yourusername dude ur acting like ur the one in the pics 🙄🙄

→ rutgermcgroarty who said i wasnt

→ yourusername i did.

→ lhughes_06 is this supposed to be a tactic to confuse everyone

→ rutgermcgroarty we’ll never know 🤫

mackie.samo when was the last time you willingly ate pizza

→ yourusername tonight 😐

→ mackie.samo because he made you do it……… right??

→ yourusername NO he just wanted to do it so i did

adamfantilli wtf rosie i just looked at the boys gc and hes literally obsessed with you

→ yourusername um 😃

→ adamfantilli NOT LIKE THAT

→ adamfantilli but he’s just being a big pussy rn

→ yourusername that’s what they’re all saying 🙄🙄

→ edwards.73 DUDE you gotta stop leaking the gc convos

→ luca.fantilli fr it’s unacceptable

→ yourusername stfu luca u sent me screenshots like two days ago

→ rutgermcgroarty TRAITOR luca.fantilli

→ yourusername and u just gave me ur phone to scroll through rutgermcgroarty

→ mackie.samo as the spokesperson i’d like to say we’re kicking u all out

→ adamfantilli NO PLEASE

→ rutgermcgroarty WE’LL DO ANYTHING

→ luca.fantilli WAIT PLEASE FORGIVE US

_quinnhughes so as your older brother it’s my job to steal your food

→ yourusername 🫤

→ _quinnhughes and we’re playing the wings tomorrow so i will be stopping by and stealing half the stuff in your fridge

→ yourusername thanks for the warning asshole

→ _quinnhughes any time u little shit

→ jackhughes hey that was my nickname for her 😞

→ lhughes_06 i thought i was the little shit????

→ vivianliu how did you guys manage to go from posting each other to arguing over who was the little shit 😭😭

username7 forearms 😵‍💫😵‍💫

liked by yourusername

username30 get urself a man who will have cooking dates with u 🙌

lhughes_06 u make enough food to feed the entire family

→ yourusername mom taught me well 🤗

→ lhughes_06 but u literally never fed me when we lived together??

→ yourusername yes. i. did.

→ jackhughes lukey says u “NEVERRRR” fed him

→ yourusername HOW DO U THINK HE GOT SO FUCKING TALL

→ _quinnhughes mom and dads genes

→ yourusername bc i’ve been feeding him HALF of my food every time he walked into the damn room

→ yourusername SINCE WE WERE 14

→ jackhughes ur not wrong

→ yourusername no shit

username13 girlll im tryna cook like u

username9 cutiessss 💕

username27 babe ima need u to hard launch alreadyyy

vivianliu rosie.

→ yourusername vivi.

→ vivianliu i know you cook and bake when you’re stressed or anxious

→ yourusername whatttt no

→ vivianliu is it about him 🤨

→ yourusername no!

→ vivianliu mmmmmkay

notes ) she’s a bit of a short one BUT HERES TO THE STARS’ SATURDAY NIGHT WIN AND THE WIN FROM TN ‼️ the stress was fucking insane and my heart was BEATING but we did it 🙏 a celebratory chapter if you will

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat

#ethan edwards #ethan edwards fic #ethan edwards fanfic #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards x reader #quinn hughes #jack hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte #luke hughes #mark estapa #dylan duke #mackie samoskevich #adam fantilli #luca fantilli #rutger mcgroarty

275 notes · View notes

burningcheese-merchant · 2 days ago

Note

yandere cheese drabbles? 🤲

Merry Crimmus to you all, my gift is more Accidental Yandere Golden Cheese things today

Can't think of a story title atm, buuutttttt here is a story nevertheless 😘

Tucked under a cut because this AU is still fucked lol

"I hate you."

How long has it been since she wrote that? How long ago did she take her seat beside her desk, pull out this paper, and bring her pen to it, only for nothing but those three words to bleed out of the ink?

Sucking in a sharp breath and steeling herself, Golden Cheese at last forced her hand to move again.

"I hate you. I loathe you. You are a sick, miserable, disgusting monster. It is only by the grace of the gods that you still live, and this world shall be a brighter, happier place when you no longer do."

There. That was one thought out of the way. Given life in the waking world. Now she just needed to keep going.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you torment me this way? What have I done to deserve it?"

She paused, briefly considering adding "If you utter even a single word about the Soul Jam, I'll rip yours out of your chest and grind it into a fine powder", but decided against it and continued.

"How can you inflict such untold suffering onto others? Onto complete strangers? How many lives have you ended? How many families have you torn apart? How many hopes and dreams have you cleaved in two with that axe? And for what? For me? When I never asked or wanted you to? What in cheese's name is wrong with you?"

She stopped again, peeking over her shoulder at the shelf by her bed - the one hiding the locked metal door, leading to... her collection. A shiver crept up her spine when she realized that the shelf was slightly ajar; she hadn't taken good enough care to close it all the way after leaving earlier that day...

"And on top of it all, you burden me with these... with these so-called gifts," she wrote when she turned back to face her little work-in-progress. "These tokens of... what? Your affection? You call this affection? You think handing a woman the blood and viscera of your hapless victims is how you win her heart? What parasite burrowed into your brain and took control of your senses to make you think this way?

"You sicken me, Burning Spice. Well and truly. You are selfish, wicked and unfathomably cruel. You are a blight on all mankind. You are hardly a step above a rabid animal. I should have put you down and spared us all of this chaos ages ago."

She stopped and set the pen down. Her eyes bore into the last sentence she wrote, unblinking. Dragging along each word, back and forth, over and over again for what may as well have been an eternity.

She should have killed him already. He should be long dead. She should have saved the world as well as herself by now.

But...

... Shaking her head, she moved the letter aside and grabbed another piece of paper. That train of thought is done. Time for another one.

"You curse me, Burning Spice. Not only with your presence, not only with your words, not only with your heinous actions... You curse me with the aftermath of it all, as well. I alone am burdened with the end results of all of your lovesick rampages. I have a closet full of severed heads because of you! Innocent men and women who have been denied their lives and their dignity to satisfy your sick infatuation with me! I struggle each and every day to find their names and identities so I may return them to their loved ones, in an act of penance on both of our parts, because I am as much of a sinner as you for even having them!!!"

She always had blood to wipe off of her hands every time she went into that room. That precious ichor, now cold and sticky, staining her delicate, flawless skin as she carefully tended to the new additions and tidied up the old ones. Every single time.

Not a single head ever left that room. She did all the work of uncovering who these poor, unfortunate souls were, and then... left it at that. Left those souls trapped in limbo. In that cold closet, behind that cold metal door. Never to see the light of day again.

Every visit inside that little den of sin only made the excuses she comforted herself with grow weaker and weaker.

"I don't understand you. I have tried, and tried, and tried with all of my might, to no avail whatsoever. Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you like this? What do you stand to gain? Is this really how you wanted to live your miserable life?"

Wait.

... Who was she writing this to?

She shook her head again - harder this time - and set the letter aside, on top of the first. No more. Next thought.

"I hardly sleep anymore. I'm haunted by the things you do. The things I do. The things I DON'T do. Why have you done this to me? Why won't you stop?"

... No. No more. Into the pile. Next thought.

"You-" Her hand was starting to tremble, smudging the ink. Another deep breath and an attempt to still herself kept her moving along. "You don't hurt children. You listen to me only this one time, for this one instance. How kind of you. How sweet. How thoughtful. Why you do it, I don't know; all life seems the same to you. Just a sea of useless little flesh automatons for you to toy with and crush as you see fit. Why do you obey the line I draw? Why does it matter? Is this the one shred of conscience that yet remains within the black hole your soul resides in?"

No more. She can't think of children. It didn't matter that Burning Spice listened to her and didn't harm them; the mere possibility was too much. Too horrible. Next thought.

"You drive me mad. You never leave my mind. Front, back, the spaces between. You consume my thoughts. Your image has been engraved into the insides of my eyelids. I even DREAM of you now, so oppressive is the hold you have over me. I can't bear it. The guilt. The shame. You curse me."

Next.

"It's a waste. You're a waste. Your entire life is a waste. You could've been someone worthwhile. Someone who made this world more bearable. You have the power, you have the means. Yet you always choose yourself. You were a hero once upon a time, there's no reason you cannot be one again. What a waste."

Next.

"Or were you not? You were never truly a hero, were you? You did it for the praise. For the gold and jewels. For the scores of people chanting your name, building statues in your honor. Selfishness. Arrogance. You're a thief. A coward. A fool."

Who- no, who is this? Who is this for, again?

"I hate you. I HATE YOU. I WANT TO KILL YOU. I WISH TO SEE THE LIGHT IN YOUR DEVIL'S EYES DIM AS I END YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE. YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME. YOUR FEELINGS MEAN NOTHING. YOU ARE SICK! DERANGED! THE ONLY PERSON YOU EVER LOVED WAS YOURSELF, AND EVERY COURSE OF ACTION YOU TAKE ONLY SERVES TO PROVE IT MORE AND MORE!"

Her hands were trembling violently now. Ink splotches stained the pages. Deep, dark dots. Jagged streaks. Small, delicate fingerprints hovering above certain words.

"I want you."

Same as the very first letter, Golden Cheese stopped and stared down at the page with wide, unblinking eyes.

"I want you You're handsome. I think you're handsome. Devastatingly so."

A bead of sweat trickled down her temple.

"I want you You're handsome. I think you're handsome. Devastatingly so. Your voice shoots through my ears and drills into my skull each time you speak. I never want you to stop talking. Why do you ever stop talking?"

His voice. That deep baritone that went from silky smooth to hot and rough effortlessly. Did he do it just to get to her? To rile her up? Did he know what his voice did to her?

It was working.

"Did your eyes always look the way they do? Is the fire within them ever-burning? Were they taken from a demon and given to you the day you were born? Why do I still feel them raking over me, consuming me, even long after we've parted ways? Why do you always seek to set me ablaze?"

"It's a waste. Really. A waste. You're a good-looking man. You could've lived a normal life. You could've found a nice girl and-"

And? And? And what?

"You could've used that face and voice and those eyes of yours to charm someone and-"

And? Why can't she finish the thought? Why did her heart pound against her ribcage so hard it ached every time she tried?

"You you would you could have you could've been a normal reasonable good man and had a wife and children-"

She took the page and crumpled it, tossing it at the wall.

"I want you. I want your voice in my ears. I want your eyes devouring me. I want to hold your face in my hands. I want you to give me another one of those hellish grins of yours. I want to feel you sink your teeth into me. I want to taste your lips. I want to feel your tongue caress mine. I want to feel your hot breath in my mouth, on my skin. I want your hands on me. All over me. I want you to touch me. You've told me about all the things you want to do to me- do it. Do them. I'm sick of waiting and so are you. Why do you tease us both like this? Do it. Touch me. Taste me. Break my bones. Break my bed. Praise me, call me a goddess, worship me. Worship me like you have been all this time. Tell me you love me. Tell me you adore me. That you'll die without me. That you'll slaughter us all for my sake. Do it. DO IT. Praise me, touch me, kiss me, fuck me, just fuck me, Burning Spice, PLEASE-"

No. No, no, no. Not this. She can't say any of this. She can't. SHE CAN'T.

"YOU'RE MINE. YOU BELONG TO ME NOW. IS THIS NOT THE LEAST YOU OWE ME FOR WHAT YOU PUT ME THROUGH? YOU'RE MINE! MINE! YOUR TROPHIES ARE MINE! YOUR BODY IS MINE! YOUR HEART IS MINE! ALL MINE! DON'T YOU DARE EVEN CONSIDER DOING ANY OF THIS FOR ANYONE ELSE!"

"YOU'RE MINE"

"YOU'RE ALL MINE"

"I HATE YOU"

She slammed her fists down onto the desk with such force that cracks formed in their wake. Out of the chair, away from the desk, out of her bedroom she went. Rushing down the hall. All but throwing herself out the nearest door. Taking off into the sky with a quickness that made her wings ache.

So absorbed in her failed therapy session was she, that she never noticed that the eyes of the marble snake adorning the decorative tree Burning Spice had given her had been glowing the entire time. Nor did she know that he himself, that object of her ire and her sick affection, was lounging on his throne, watching her fall apart with that devil's grin she loved so much.

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

Hope this is good. I'm sorry to keep you all waiting. New installment in the Accidental Yandere AU, there shall be more soon. Happy Crimmus 🎄

#cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #cookie run au #I don't have a name for this AU yet lol I'll think of something eventually #suggestive

49 notes · View notes

poppyfamily · 4 months ago

Text

hello no one asked but i brainrotted a bit over a charashamangela church choir/youth group au bc of That games video. thoughts under cut.

tw: minor religious trauma lol

Chanse and Angela growing up in the church. Each of their parents pushing them to be more active in the church through children's choir. Chanse probably starts earlier, maybe like a month before Angela. Chanse is the type of kid who their choir director had to be told to stop riffing because the purpose of a choir is to sound the same, Chanse. But Angela takes to him immediately and they become best friends.

They are eventually invited to join the church's youth ministry and they get so into it, probably dancing to One Way Jesus very enthusiastically. It's a staple for them to play Joseph and Mary during Christmas plays and are like super chill when facilitating prayer sessions. (They understand that people aren't necessarily there for Jesus or w/e but believe that the spirit of the ministry is to find Christ in one another or some shit).

They stay for a couple of years and manage to drag in Arasha, who goes to the same school as them. She's not Christian and is just there because she was sick of inviting them to do shit on Saturday nights only for them to say no and also for the vibes and free food.

Amanda comes in a little later and is forced by her mom to actually join because she was frequently getting into trouble so she'd rather just know that her daughter is praising the lord (or whatever the fuck goes down in youth ministry) on Saturday nights instead of swimming in people's pools or some shit idk. Becomes besties with Chanse, Arasha, Angela.

Making this about Amangela bc I can't help the way I am: Angela welcoming Amanda to the ministry because it's her job as one of its leaders and Amanda is obsessed with her immediately. Probably constantly inviting her to sit right next to her for Sunday service, surreptitiously holding hands during the Lord's Prayer, going out for ice cream together once Amanda gets her driver's license. Something something horny something something repressed, they end up regularly making out (and more?) in Amanda's car without really talking about the implications but they know they feel SOMETHING. Lots of Catholic guilt - but not being able to stop because it feels nice, because it feels right.

And because I like angst - Something something tension because Amanda starts being deprogrammed from Church rhetoric at some point. She still sees Angela doing the thing to appease all the old church ladies and pastors who give her a sense of self because it's really all she knows and are willing to offer her a scholarship for college so there is Even More Pressure.

But Amanda sees all this and sees just how much she's hiding who she is, feeling like she can't really call her out on it because they are Not. Together. Amanda also sees how this is hurting Angela, but Angela is just so young and so confused and just wants to do right by her family, by God, etc... Amanda starts feeling pain and resentment about it.

In my mind, the older active church members think Angela and Chanse are gonna end up together, get married and all that shit. Chanse and Angela never saw each other that way.

Chanse quits out of nowhere and people speak of him like they're speaking the devil's name, basically erasing all history of his contributions (because he's gay.) Amanda soon quits after, and basically stops speaking to Angela. Amanda and Chanse run into each other months later, make comments about not seeing each other in church anymore, and then they reconnect and become besties.

Arasha doesn't quit, she just stops attending because she becomes busy with college. It's just not the same because Chanse and Amanda aren't there. She doesn't really have an obligation to do so, but she still keeps in touch with Angela.

Arasha and Angela become roommates in college. And because this is the first time Angela experiences independence, she goes on a SIN rampage - secular (lmao) theater, drinking, drugs, sex (lmao). All the things the church loves to police. And she has an identity crisis about it, crying to Arasha about it even.

Arasha, not knowing where the fuck all this Christian guilt is coming from calls Amanda and Chanse for backup and it's the first time they all see each other in a while. They all commiserate in the dorm room and bond and it's beautiful.

Angela wakes up. Amanda, Chanse and Arasha remind her that she's worthy of love no matter what. Once Angela finally internalizes that, she unpacks all the ways she hurt herself and how she's hurt others. Angela and Amanda finally talk about the shit that went down between them. They apologize for hurting each other, and decide to try again with a better understanding of themselves.

And they all live happily ever after. The end.

#alexa play casual by chappell roan and maybe also good luck babe #can you tell this is inspired by grace chasity #not gonna write this as a full fic because i have other things on my plate but this did enter my brain so now i'll share it ig #smosh rpf #smoshblr #amangela #angela #amanda #chanse #arasha #if ur complaining about mixing many christian denominations - yes i know. idc too much about making it accurate.#i said that #fic*

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puppetmaster13u · 1 year ago

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Look what you did Kal, you gave him (even worse) anxiety!

Hngh, Bruce wrapping his arms around his kids but being unable to cry despite them all knowing he is so very close to having a breakdown. Like this is probably the longest he's been in the doll body without any sort of break, and that probably has an effect. He doesn't have a brain in the body or a stomach but he'll get bouts of almost dizziness or nausea, maybe black out at times and 'wake up' in stasis before being thrown back into the doll body. But like, he is definitely not in a good place mentally.

Gosh I am thinking of two timelines almost, one darker than the other. Just slowly rotating both.

Also just got the image of Clark cradling Bruce when he comes back from blacking out at one point. Just holding the body of metal and wood and running fingers through the 'hair'. Half genuinely concerned even if it's been fucked up and half possessiveness.

Oh my gosh, the fact he took Bruce would mean that like, while the others have entered the cave through the Zeta tubes, Clark knows where Bruce lives. And where his kids live too. He can definitely get there too.

Tags are from @phoenixcatch7's Kintsukuroi post

And it reminded me of a question/idea I had when thinking about things like Batman Beyond and all the future timelines, dark or otherwise. Because like, what would happen if the dolls got attached. Like before Bruce, before his family, they haven't been used, they've been rotting away in the tunnels, in the depths of the caves sitting half broken and unnused. So what happens if his body, his human body, starts breaking down. We all know that Bruce wouldn't, couldn't, stop being Batman. Honestly he's more Batman than Bruce most times as time goes on even outside that. At first he's only out at night, at Patrol outside an odd hour or two training and helping the kids. But then the Justice League forms and now he's using the Patriarch more and more outside of Gotham on top of his own usual schedule. So what if one morning, he wakes up, and it's not in his human body. In fact, he can't even feel it any more.

#batman au #cryptid batfam #injustice timeline #possessed doll au #cryptid batman #oh my god he wouldn't be able to repair his doll body on his own #Clark practically latches onto Bruce (and probably his kids too) as things that Won't die #As long as he keeps the bodies of flesh safe #then the bodies of wood can be repaired #wasn't even thinking yandere for this but omg that fits this so fuckin well #Honestly I can see several Gotham rogues dying because they're a threat to B and Clark can Not deal with that #Like the only thing keeping him from going on a full blown rampage against every single rogue is Bruce himself #Probably is very distracted by Bruce being 'sick' and obsessing over making sure he's alright #Not that B is going to get his body back any time soon #He's going to have a mental breakdown at some point and just start sobbing #He's going through it and getting pulled in so many different directions with no sleep because he can't risk sleeping #like theoretically he can in a way but it's not like the doll body needs it #i am just slowly rotating this #god would the kids want to risk leaving their doll bodies with how bad gotham is getting

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auspicioustidings · 7 months ago

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Closed

Teashop AU

Summary: You get sick, Price gets serious. Words: 2.2k TWs: death of a loved one

“Lieutenant I have a perimeter alarm, go have a look will you?”

Price only got a gruff sound of agreement as Ghost headed out. Owing to it being off the radar their base wasn’t on official records and didn’t have any sort of posted guards. If anything the building probably looked more like a mildly eccentric manor in the middle of the woods, so it wasn’t entirely outside the realms of possibility for folk to stumble upon it none the wiser.

It had only ever happened twice in the past 5 years since they had started using it and both happened within the last 2. Not really a coincidence given that’s around the time Faodail had opened. Not that any of them were complaining, they could redirect a few adventurous walkers away every so often if it meant they got to visit their favourite civilian in their favourite little teashop.

He needed to pay a visit soon. Had it really been two weeks since any of them had seen you? Work had just been so busy and none of them had made the time because they were exhausted. As far as he knew there hadn’t been any out of town visitors either. It must be calm and quiet for you without a bunch of rowdy military folk rampaging around. The thought made him smile. Maybe he should take you on a holiday to give you a full break. Since opening you had worked every day, even the day the shop was closed he knew you were busy getting deliveries, restocking and testing out new recipes.

“Captain!”

Oh Price did not like that tone on his Lieutenant at all. He snapped into work mode, loosening off his shoulders to be ready for a fight as he jogged to meet Simon half way, finding him just coming back into the base. Gaz and Soap came barreling around as well, both ready for whatever they were about to face. Ghost looked, well, like he had seen a ghost.

“Report.”

“It’s George.”

“Dungeons and Dragons George?” Soap asked, relaxing ever so slightly.

George was a fixture at Faodail, bringing his group to play once a week. He came in a second time a week with his boyfriend as well (a relationship that had been built on months of very bad matchmaking attempts by you before Kyle had stepped in to help). Nice guy, totally harmless but for the obvious crush he had on you. His boyfriend was clearly fond of you and found it very cute.

“The shop is closed.”

There was a moment of quiet while everyone tried to make sense of what they were being told.

“This isn’t usually the day it’s closed right? Maybe they just need to do maintenance” Gaz said, trying not to overreact to something so small.

But then why had Dungeons and Dragons George tracked down the base to tell them if it was something so small? You had never shut the shop. It had been open when you had rolled your ankle and could barely walk, it had been open when a snowstorm had wiped out the power and you had to heat water over the fire and bundle everyone in blankets, it had been open when you had such a bad toothache that you were openly crying while making tea (it had been him and Soap there when it had happened and oh boy they had not handled it very well).

“It’s been closed for a week. He said last week they didn’t seem well, and then when he went in on Sunday the place was closed. Agnus brought the doctor around, she said they’ve gotten pneumonia while already fighting off the flu.”

Simon said it very carefully. He had to. He knew that while this was obviously causing him a great deal of worry, it was nothing compared to what Price was feeling. His Captain looked like his heart had stopped. The fury that came over him was sudden and frightening as he silently barged past and to the truck, yelling at George to go home.

Simon gave the Sergeants a look and a shake of his head that said not to ask before they all went after him, climbing into the truck without a word.

–

You could not remember ever being this ill. Everything hurt, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t sleep for coughing and when you coughed it felt like your ribcage had caught fire. At the start you had kept working, masked up with gloves. Then on day 4 you had woken up and barely been able to move.

By the time you had walked from your little cottage to the shop you could barely see straight. The sign was flipped to closed and you had staggered back to bed and not left for more than stumbling to the bathroom since.

Agnus had walked right in, taken one look at you and called for the doctor. You didn’t fully remember the conversation with the doctor, only that she gave you medicine and strict instructions to contact her immediately if it got any worse. You wouldn’t say it had, but it hadn’t gotten better. At least Agnus was keeping you fed even though you really did not want to eat any of the soup she fed you twice a day. She didn’t stay long which you were thankful for, she shouldn’t really be in the room with you at all in case she got sick.

It was the only way you were judging time at the moment, so when you heard someone in the room you assumed it must be evening if she was here to make sure you ate your soup.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell us?”

You cracked an eye open to find John Price crouched by your bed, his rough hand gently pushing back the hair that had become stuck to your forehead and cheek. He seemed so sad.

“Wrinkles” you croaked, meaning to say a full sentence around that but not managing as you brought your own hand to the furrow in his brow to try to smooth it out. It took such an effort.

“Yeah, wrinkles” he said, sounding somewhat choked himself.

Even though you sort of hazily remembered telling him he’d get sick, it hadn’t stopped him from staying with you. He fed you, made sure you took your medicine, bundled you up in his arms. You thought you heard movement around the house, other people. There were voices in the doorway to your room sometimes, comforting ones, ones you recognised as yours.

–

“You’re taking the piss darling.”

You rolled your eyes. Sure the tea probably tasted spicy as all hell with the amount of ginger in it, but it would do him wonders. Predictably, Price had got the flu. Nowhere near as bad as you had gotten, but despite some teasing from his team he seemed more than content to stay in your bed and be looked after even if he was mostly better by now.

It was strange not working for so long. Now that you were on the mend and rebuilding strength you thought you’d be desperate to get back to it, but honestly it was nice to have the break.

“I told you not to stay with me and you didn’t listen, so drink up.”

He rolled his eyes, took another sip and then put the cup down on the bedside table so he could throw his arm out at a frankly alarming speed and drag you down into bed by the waist. It wasn’t that Price wasn’t a touchy feely person as such, but since he had arrived when you were ill he had developed Johnny levels of affection, always as close as he could get to you.

“Not a superior officer on this planet that could order me to stay away from you,” he said, wrapping himself around you and burying his face into your chest.

You played with his hair, feeling such a burst of fondness for him in that moment. You suspected there was a reason he was being like this, but you didn’t want to force him to tell you so you tried the subtle approach.

“I’m sorry if I made you worry…”

His chuckle tickled your chest. Ok, so maybe you were very bad at trying to be subtle and it had very much come out sounding like you were desperate to know just why he was so worried. You never had been any good at hiding how you felt.

“She’d have really liked you. Would have kicked your arse for not telling us you were sick right enough, but she’d have liked you.”

You could feel tears pushing at your eyes already. He had lost someone and it just broke your heart to think about. You knew in principal that his line of work meant he must have lost so many people, but the way he talked about this one seemed different.

“Her family moved in beside mine when I was 10 and I hated her. She always beat me in any game we played and was the loudest, brashest brat I had ever met.”

“So you fell in love with her” you said with a smile, hearing it in his voice.

He sighed and moved his head so he could lay facing you, just looking into your eyes.

“Hard and fast. She laughed at me the first time I asked her out on a date and the whole thing was a disaster. It rained, the restaurant was overbooked and the cinema projector broke down. We wound up at a McDonalds” he said, the nostalgia clear on his expression.

“The plan was always for me to work my way to a desk job. I didn’t want to be in active duty forever, just long enough to make a difference before getting into something safer and starting a family.”

“What happened?”

“She got sick. It happened fast, started with the flu and just got worse. I didn’t make it home in time to say goodbye.”

“Oh John, you must miss her terribly” you whispered, knowing you were crying but not able to do much about it.

He wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“All the time. I didn’t have a reason to get that desk job. Didn’t really want to be home for long either, there wasn’t anything here for me.”

He thought that there was something here for him now. It had been in the back of his mind for a while now, the idea of a future beyond the job. Since he had lost his girlfriend all those years ago, he had just worked knowing as a fact that he’d die in service. But now that certainty was gone. Now he imagined growing old in a little cottage by a charming teahouse. He imagined getting you all to himself for some years before one by one the others would join.

He hadn’t told anyone, but around a year ago he had started buying up the land surrounding yours, eventually connecting up to the base. He could admit to himself now that in his heart he knew he wanted to make more space for the family that had been built around you.

“Take a holiday.”

“Hm?”

“Take a holiday with me. Let’s go somewhere warm for a few weeks and soak up the sun.”

You were taken aback by the suggestion. It sounded like a dream, but it was something more serious than stolen kisses and visits to your shop. You had never really thought for too long on what exactly this all was. You loved these people you had been lucky enough to meet. They didn’t seem to mind that you shared your affections between them so you had just let it develop. Did John want that to change?

“I can see your pretty little head working overtime luv. The others will want to take you places too, I know Alejandro just bought a vineyard near his hometown so I wouldn’t be surprised if he steals you away for a while. Should by rights be Soap getting to take you away first, but I outrank him so he’ll need to get over it.”

“I… the shop…”

“You were thinking about hiring help anyway.”

You were thinking about hiring help. You loved the shop and you wanted to work in it for the rest of your life, but it was hard going and you had the money now to afford to get help. Originally you had thought you’d probably find someone in the nearby town, but as if by magic (more likely by sneaky soldiers) you seemed to keep finding CVs from people with military backgrounds around the shop. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think Mr Sanderson sounded like he’d be a perfect fit for Faodail.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

The kiss he gave you then was toe curling and if it hadn’t been for the fact he was still a little under the weather you did not think you would have been able to leave the bed, but you somewhat dizzily clambered to get out of his hold and tumbled onto the floor rambling about how he needed to finish his tea.

His laugh followed you to the hallway and you were so flustered that when Johnny immediately caught you and pressed you into the wall to steal kisses of his own, you could do nothing but completely give in and relax into him.

Maybe getting sick wasn’t the worst thing to happen.

#mhairiwrites #price x reader

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snackugaki · 2 years ago

Photo

...visdev really is my enrichment activity for i am just a bored tiger in my enclosure, looking to figure out how to get this steak out of this metal ball.

________

my tmnt au (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt au part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

tmnt au omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

lny visit 1 | 2

also uhhh... i guess still idw, next mutation, and like 1 mirage spoiler? mostly for the kids who haven’t but were planning to read/watch

you’re about to perceive so much

p r e p a r e

so close to getting this AU looking as crunchy as i want it, almosttttt tttthhhhhere...!

just somewhere tasty between Mignola’s use of deep black shadow, what MTV Liquid Television woulda greenlit re: The Maxx, a dash of 2007, 1 part Next Mutation, 2 parts funny proportions

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh str ugglingggg

Leo’s shortest because haha (family baby gang, get rekt)

this is so much thought for something I’m just doing to give these turtle ninjas some softness and the genx/millenial pop culture references gag comics

Splinter is full of ghosts

(specifically the onryo borne from the murdered Yoshi Hamato and Tang Shen [because oroku saki a bitch])

[ redacted ] and Tang Shen’s ghost gained control and guided Splinter to raise the boys in love and not [ redacted ] to [ redacted ] in [ redacted ]

Splinter was just a regular little rat... who on his 1000th birthday witnessed the death of his friend/unwitting master and his wife, and thus transformed into a wrathful kyūso (minus the kitten eating) and chased Shredder until losing his trail in New York

Shredder’s fuck around and Splinter’s rampaging as the find out caused the tengu to repo some of the mysticism from ninjutsu

now all the (remaining) ninja clans debuffed and mad about it

The tengu bestowed the ninja the ability to summon shit (kuchiyose), enact mystical effects upon people and objects (kuji kiri), going invisible, minor flight (actually just qinggong/light body technique), and manipulation of the 5 elements, and creating doubles (bunshin)

but again, Shredder fucked up so now ninja can like barely control anything bigger than a lit torch or a 16 oz bottle of liquid and that’s if you got in enough hours to do even that

I mentioned elsewhere but for me in any AU I make, Venus is a cultivator and the more I think about it the more I will die on this hill, not only does it fit better than her being a “shaman” or “shinobi” it’s sick as fuck

Jennika’s origin was pretty fkkn metal, she still falls in with the Foot, gets shanked, Leo gives blood-- bam, turtle time

Jennika goes to hang with Venus in China and get a better understanding of her new turtle body

Keno’s here, still tried to infiltrate the Foot (with Jennika) but bugged out when she couldn’t stay without being made (Jennika refused to leave womp)

teaches Leo some arnis techniques for Leo’s dual wielding; Donnie also just in case his bo is shattered... again. :)

Irma has made all the boys blush at least twice

Irma is also soap opera buddies with Splinter

they meet up at least twice a month to gab, gush, and groan over what’s currently going on in their stories, when Venus visits she also joins in, Irma also has a conversational grasp on Japanese and Venus’ regional dialect because of these visits

April has a full out shoujo manga romance with Chu Hsi

and he’s a hot dragon prince uhuhuhuhuhu

Irma is privy to all the steamy details

keeping Leo and Karai as character foils

both received scars from one another

both released each other from sealing wards from [ redacted ]

now they just meet every so often to eat the greasiest fast food and unclench of an hour

Raph still gets his ass worked by Ninjara, folded like an omelette sat on a lawn chair

Vam Mi is also here, she’s fought first (because honestly she should’ve been either brought in earlier in the season or had a few more episodes because that shit coulda resolved better)

Venus is brought to NYC for this antagonist instead of Dragonlord escaping (and murdering her father figure forcing her to seek out his friend Splinter for aid)

Donnie doesn’t take the news of real vampires or real magic well

Donnie and Venus have a knock down drag out fight over it (because they’re 17 at this point and being li’l shits to each other about their respective fields of expertise)

“The nerds are fightingggggg!” cries Mikey, Leo and Raph don’t believe it so imagine their surprise when they get a demo in real time on how scary competent staff fighters are

Leo gets Splinter when one of Donnie’s missed strikes cracks the concrete

Splinter breaks them up like talking a walk in the park and it’d be comical if they both weren’t bleeding from the mouth and peppered with swelling contusions

Venus begins accepting Donnie when his tech prevents her from becoming a thrall of Vam-Mi

Donnie begins accepting Venus when she uses a massive amount of chi to manipulate gravity just before he becomes street pizza when Vam-Mi throws him off a bridge

they also combine skill sets to save Mikey so there’s that

Venus goes from calling Donnie, “Horatio (derogatory)” to “Horatio (affectionate)”

they now have a dumbass long-as-fuck handshake that’s unforgivably nerdy

April is still a magic drawing-brought-to-life baby, Venus puts her in a painted scroll when she starts phasing in and out of existence (she and Chu Hsi have a great time in the scroll... while everyone is shitting bricks until Venus and her sect stabilize her and get her made real, Pinocchio style)

April’s grandmothers gifted Venus 2 pieces of jade jewelry, and her family’s recipe for sweet potato pudding respectively for saving April

the boss fight against Dragonlord is dope as fuckkkkk, Chu Hsi is being cool as fuck, fiddled with some concepts* that has Leo and Karai being a champion of Genbu, Raph for Byakko, Mikey for Suzaku, Chu Hsi’s retainer (a good dragon, wink wonk) steps in for Seiryu because Donnie and Venus are siphoning and redirecting an enormous amount and variety of mystical power

*i’m just pulling from fushigi yugi honestly

splinter, the boys, and venus (and others) mutating from mutagen laced toxic waste was a pure accident

Splinter was investigating a lead on Shredder’s movements concerning the Foot the same night an animal liberation sleeper cell ‘freed’ some animals from the back of a pet store (that was a front for black market domestic and exotic animal trafficking) that is also the same night a stolen truck driven by some corporate spies filled with a competitor’s chemical waste, which then collides with said liberation sleeper cell’s truck and... ooze happens

Leatherhead, the Mutanimals, Mondo, Mona Lisa, Slash also get mutated from the events of that night, either leading up to or following the aftermath

plus some others etc etc

Venus still washes down the gutter, gets rube goldberg pinballed onto a crate of plums where Chung I finds her and still gets named Mei and taken to live in China and eventually learns to cultivate

Tokka and Rahzar get made, and unmade ala TMNT II; the mutagen made them a little silly tho, April adopts Rahzar and passes him off as a low content wolfdog, Leatherhead takes in Tokka

April went through a couple of major changes so now she’s a journalist with a computer programming background who now does a podcast as an informal neighborhood news reporter with a segment for chatting with people from around the street

Mikey’s the most frequent guest and co-hosts sometimes; Donnie troubleshoots free of charge

Venus brings her province’s regional delicacies when she comes to visit, Splinter and Leo both get pu er tea cakes (she managed to get one the same age as him; Splinter is too old so she got the oldest she could find, Leo has so many tea pets and a nice yixing collection); Raph, Keno, and Casey fight over the pickles, meat jerkies, and chili oil; Mikey has an artillery of cool shirts and a lifetime supply of haw flakes, Donnie has a mountain of doodads with increasingly specific uses, April gets neat accessories and the occasional care package sent with Venus from her grandparents, uncles, and aunties; Irma gets neat frames and coats that never fail to get a “Where did you get that??”

Raph rides a Kawasaki Ninja because it’s funny

A lot of bodegas give Mikey free snacks because the bodega cats love him, and he’s also saved some from being run over or ripped apart by stray dogs or the few large angry raccoons

Donnie’s the only one of his brothers to wear both a top and bottom with shoes because once he figured out how to integrate a motherboard and miscellany wiring onto clothing... he’s been a walking computing menace ever since

Splinter does his best to enjoy his time with his sons (because as a kyūso, he knows the chances of outliving his precious sons is very high (ᴗ‿ᴗ✿) ...give or take one of the many opponents and obstacles his sons take on takes him out first ( ◕ᴗ◕✿ ) )

god whathefuck, I was just going to make silly comics for them. how did it come to this.

#i'm so curious #some of you kids tag this shit as 2003 #and i'm ???#i'm not subtle about being an elder millenial #or about who my childhood turtles were #i love trash #i love the next mutation #like is it to keep your tag active?#i feel like it's probably the thing #where someone assumes they're interacting with someone of their same xyz #which honestly? fair #a lot of the TMNT fans I see are 03 or 12 fans #there's a few other Turtlemania survivors around that I see #but not a lot of us #:(#...i'm still laughing at that poll #with the arbitrary age cut off being 37+#sorry poll op #it's just... it was literally oddly specific #ba dum tss #if you know why I used apples as a measurement...#...hahaha you also like Sanrio #if you know who I based Irma off of...#can you blame me #Nadia is who Irma would be #if she kept the cheek but mellowed out a li'l #so much weird shit happened to her #so of course she'd simultaneously be #blase cheeky and wry #visdev is my enrichment activity

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bellafragolina · 1 year ago

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Rampage Sickness AU

thank you to @peachsodama for putting up with my maddening rambles about Dottie and rabies in general i love you babe

WARNING: reference to rabies and body horror/gore-esque happenings to the pokemon

🍓🍓🍓

A Herdier is spotted on Route 10, rampaging through the grass and snapping at anything that enters its line of sight. Aman knows well that it’s possible the Herdier could just be territorial, but now that there’s a new illness infecting Unova, he can’t take any chances. So at the tearful behest of the people living along the Route, he goes off in search of the Pokémon to see what’s going on.

The forest is deathly silent, besides the soft sounds of the river. Aman sticks close to the water, having heard the symptoms of rampage include a fear of water. It could be an advantage against the Herdier, should his Poké Balls fail or if Miso Soup faints during battle.

Aman's hand twitches.

A bush explodes.

Aman dives out of the way of the Herdier. He rolls, throwing out Miso's Poké Ball as he spins to face the ranging Pokémon. It thrashes around, head swinging wildly as it stumbles about, spraying drool everywhere it goes. It's skinnier than anything Aman's ever seen, and no doubt dehydrated to near death, yet it rages on.

A jingle sounds in his ear. Miso dances, keys rattling, and that's all it takes for the Herdier to charge again. Slobbering, snapping jaws full of black smoke hurdle their way. Aman rolls again, while Miso jumps higher in the air to avoid being hit.

"Thunder Wave!" Aman calls.

Miso rattles, and the ground glows gold. Static licks between blades of dewy grass, and the Herdier staggers to a stop, forced to its knees.

Aman takes a shaky breath in, watching the Pokémon heave for air. The Herdier jerks, flinches, jerks again. It struggles against the paralysis, working its legs forward, then jerking them back. Forward and back.

Trying to Dig.

Aman readies an Ultra Ball. The Herdier gives a wheeze, dry and hacking despite how it drools. It snaps its head around to stare at Aman, eyes a faint green glow in the sunlight.

Then it roars.

The Herdier cracks as it jumps out of the paralysis, bounding towards Aman on broken legs, still dead set on biting. When Miso darts in from of him, body glowing with purple rings, the Herdier changes tactics. It digs again, throwing mounds of dirt behind it as it buries itself into the ground.

Aman pants for air, heart beating loudly in his ears as he scans the ground. Miso hovers nearby, body still glowing and ready to attack.

The forest grows quiet again, and slowly, Miso starts to relax. Aman isn't as quick to call victory. Sure, the Herdier was on the verge of death, but he knows rampage can carry a Pokémon through hell to achieve its goals of spread.

The ground shakes, then erupts in a spray of dirt and grass. Miso releases is psychic waves, but the Herdier doesn't flinch. It snaps its jaws around the key ring, shaking its head as hard as it can when it touches ground again. Miso rattles horrible, crying out in panic and shock as the Herdier attempts to rip its own head off to win.

"MISO!" Aman shouts. He throws the Ultra Ball with all his strength, uncaring of taking the Pokémon back alive anymore. The ball cracks into the Herdier's side, causing it to spit Miso out as it tumbles down, captured in light. "Miso!?"

The Klefki jingles weakly, lying on the ground in a shocked daze. While no doubt injured from the attack, Aman knows Miso can't get the rampage. He was told so, by those who know the one helping figure out this mess. Still, he shakes, watching his Pokémon calm down, grief still fresh within him.

"Miso," he breathes, when the Klefki shakily starts to float again, "go wash off in the river. You're covered in spit and germs."

Aman swallows, watching Miso tiredly do as told. To think, one of his last remaining Pokémon is covered in what killed so many others, caused such rage within creatures that were once so wonderful.

The Ultra Ball lies still on the ground, no fight to be found from the Herdier inside. Aman has Miso pick it up and wash it off too. It's not the best disinfectant, but it'll have to do for now. As much as he hates it, Aman keeps Miso at a distance, and leads the way back towards Opelucid City to clean up and report his findings.

Hopefully this puts them closer to a cure, so no one has to experience anything like this ever again.

🍓🍓🍓

Aman and Miso are wonderful! i hope i did them justice!

~Renee

#rampage sickness au #oc aman #tw animal injury #technically #tw gore #also technically but i don't wanna take chances

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cozzzynook · 2 months ago

Note

Monster Au Anon back I bring part 2

Starscream lazily watched the sun slowly rise through the small window. Letting out a sigh the ghostly seeker turned his attention to his left, a small smile formed on his lips when he saw the recharging frame of Bumblebee. The yellow mech still hadn't turned back to his normal frame but he didn't seemed to be in pain or skittish like he was hours before. Flicking his wings the seeker reached out with his servo only to pause when he remembered that no...he couldn't touch Bee without phasing right through him, letting out a sigh he returned his servo to his lap before looking back out of the small window.

A small grumble escaped the yellow mech as he finally stirred awake blinking away the sleepiness from his optics Bumblebee found himself slowly untangling the long tendrils that rested on his back before finally sitting up right. Quickly glancing down at his clawed servos he let out a small huff being slightly disappointed that it wasn't a nightmare, he then lifts his gaze turning to look at the ghostly seeker. "Starscream...are you okay?"

The seeker jumped a little before turning back to his left and flashing a small smile. "Oh! I'm fine little Bee. What about you?"

"Mmm empty or just hungry...at lest my voice box isn't hurting anymore" Bumblebee narrowed his optics being unsure.

"That's good I think?" Starscream flicked his wings as he two narrowed his optics as one thought re-entered his processor again. He had opened his intake again without really thinking. "How did you get infected with" He gestured to Bee's frame with his servo "That?"

The yellow mech gave a soft sigh looking rather sheepish as he wrapped his arms around his frame. "I think it happened during raid on Shockwave's lab a couple weeks ago. At first he shot me what I thought was a faulty taser but then I started to feel...weird then this happened"

Starscream felt a growl rise in his intake as his wings flicked in irritation, of course it would be Shockwave behind this who else?! Letting his platining fall back in place the seeker found himself floating back onto his pedes before finally crossing his arms. "Well, we've waited this out and clearly you haven't tired to go on a spark hungry rampage so I suggest it's safe enough for you to head down the Med-bay" Starscream gave a little smirk when he saw Bee's door wings flick in amusement. "So, let's try and be quick and quiet we don't want to cause your fellow Autobots to panic now?"

Bumblebee laughed as he slowly got to his pedes "You're right I can't sulk in here all day, besides Ratchet might not be able to fully turn me back but...at lest no one should get sick once I'm cured in some way" He then turned to look Starscream in the optic as he gave a toothy smile. "And Screamer?"

"Hm?"

Bee's face suddenly flushed as he quickly and sheepishly looked away. "I-uh it's nothing, Let's go!" The yellow mech suddenly turned as he speed walked towards his hab door.

Starscream just tilted his helm puzzled but quietly floated behind Bumblebee as they made their way towards the Med-bay.

🥹🥹 thank you 🥹😭

#transformers #bumblebee #starscream x bumblebee #starscream and bumblebee #bumblebee tf #tf starscream #starbee #sparkeater bumblebee #sparkeater

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oleandequill · 18 days ago

Text

Did I Ever Really Know You? (SG TFOne Fanfic) - Chapter 1

Because I am very much enamored with this AU. I have made fanfic. It is long so I apologize.

Anyway, for context, this happens post-movie with Dee being with the High Guard. He's referred here as D-16 since he hasn't become Megatron yet (and in my SG TFOne AU I'm still debating whether he even renames himself to Megatron or if should skip into renaming him as Galvatron).

But yeah, feel free to ask stuff about my SG TFOne AU if you like this fic because I love to yap, especially since I have SG TFOne brainrot.

Edit: Now with chapter 2 skskks

“Little dude, this may be too soon, but I think it would do wonders for you to talk about what just went down.”

“Both of you, give him time. The past few rotational periods must have taken quite the toll.”

“Shockwave, it’s nice of you to show your concern and while he does need time to recuperate, it is better to address this now. With the rise of a new Prime and the threat of the Quintessons still over our helms, we need to prepare for future problems that may arise.”

D-16 was used to noise. Ever since he had first gone online surrounded by his fellow miners and even after being assigned to his mining group. At work, the shouts of other mechs and the rumble of the energon flowing through the mines was a constant source of sound that at times even followed him to recharge. So, he wasn’t overwhelmed as Soundwave, Shockwave, and Starscream talked over him. He wasn’t even overwhelmed when Starscream had first approached him and started to ask him questions.

Really, he was fine. It wasn’t the High Guard that made him feel so sick. They had been kind to him already. They could have left him to wander the surface of Cybertron, or worse, left him in Iacon to face the wrath of a mech he’d once thought of as his friend (maybe even more). Instead, they had taken him with them back to their base, and had even offered him a berth in case he needed a moment to recharge after everything.

Starscream and Soundwave didn’t even demand much really. They had only wanted him to explain everything that had happened the past few rotational periods. To explain who Orion Pax really was. What had the mech gone through that led him to what he had done? And from that information, they could calculate what might possibly happen now that Pax was Prime.

Shockwave had come to his aid, perhaps worried that it was all too soon, that Dee was still on the verge of a breakdown.

As the three High Guard mechs talked, Dee looked down at himself. The trauma of fighting Pax was visible in the scratches on his frame. Glaringly, the worst of it was his right arm… or well, Sentinel’s right arm. Cogless as he had been and with his right arm having been accidentally axed off by Pax, Dee had done the best thing he could have done as his friend went on a rampage. He had taken Sentinel’s arm, wincing as he stared down at the mech’s ruined frame, and had done everything he could to stop the Prime from attacking innocent Cybertronians. Still, there was nothing to be done against a Prime.

Dee vented hard. He was only alive to tell Pax’s story to the High Guard because Pax had let him live. That had to mean something.

“Pax was my best friend.”

The three High Guards snapped their helms towards him, their optics focused entirely on his frame, but Dee’s processor was lost in the past.

“He’d always been… a peculiar mech, but I loved him anyway…”

—

When we first met, Pax had been aggressive in his approach, but most miners were - who wouldn’t be if you had to work so hard everyday? I had just been assigned to my berth, and… I was distracted and muttering to myself. If I had the spare time, I would indulge myself in my own dreams, the same way Pax would - though he kept his dreams to himself and only stated them out loud if he had been riled up enough. I don’t remember what it was that I had been thinking of, but I must have been calculating the best approach to mining or even constructing a blueprint of something I would never have the chance to make, because it got Pax’s attention. He was assigned across from me, and he glared at me when I had first reached my berth. He must have been close or he must have moved closer when he heard me speaking.

“I’m surprised, I thought there wouldn’t be much of a processor underneath that big helm of yours.” I jumped, turning my optics to the purple mech behind me. His arms were crossed in front of his chassis, those light yellow optics looked me up and down before a smug look crossed his face. “You may just be the most interesting mech I’ve met since I went online. I’m Orion Pax.”

He held out his servo and I gladly took it. I was worried that I wouldn’t get along with my fellow miners, yet here was a mech who wanted me… well, wanted to be my friend. “D-16.”

He had clasped me on the shoulder, walking with me as we headed to work. “I couldn’t help but hear you. Quite the mathematician or scientist, aren’t you?”

“What, me? No, no. We’re miners.” I had shaken my helm, embarrassed to have been caught. If it had been any of the other miners, they would have laughed at me for holding such dreams, but Pax had stared at me as I said those words and a part of me felt like he understood me. “Yes, we’re miners but… a mech could dream. It’s ridiculous I know—”

“Dee, I’m going to call you Dee, having a dream is not ridiculous. They may have designated us as miners, but we are so much more than that.” He had clasped me closer, optics wide with determination that I couldn’t help but be enamored by his words. “We may not be able to transform, but that means we have to show them we could be so much more even without cogs.”

“And what about you?” I asked. “What’s your dream?”

It had been inspirational at the time, but now…

Pax smiled, his dentas white against the purple of his frame. “I want to know more. I want to be more, D. I will not be a miner forever, I can promise you that. And hey, maybe I’ll take you with me once I leave this dump.”

I shook my helm, laughing at what I had thought was a joke. “That would be the day. Well, if you work hard and get promoted enough, I’m sure Sentinel Prime would designate you a job befitting your dreams. Or if we’re lucky, he’ll find the Matrix of Leadership and we wouldn’t have to mine energon.”

A dark look crossed Pax’s face at the mention of Sentinel. I don’t know, maybe even as early as that, Pax already had a resentment for Sentinel and his lot in life. Primus, I really should have seen the signs but Pax had been such a dreamer - and I had indulged him because… he was my best friend. It was only meant to be a dream. Nothing more. We were miners, and that’s all we would have ever been.

The anger in his optics had quickly disappeared as I mentioned the Matrix. “Or maybe some other mech would find it for him. Maybe I could, since Primus knows, Sentinel could use all the help he could get.”

There was an underlying insult to that statement that I had ignored then.

And, as if my statement had given him a great idea, Pax had nodded - a smile gracing his face plate. “The archives should have information I could use… and hey, I could even sneak some mathematical information for you if you want.”

My optics widened at the suggestion. We had only just met, and already Pax was planning on such a treasonous action. Even worse, he was dragging me with him… I still stayed. Why did I? Even then I felt that Pax would be my downfall. Yet I stayed.

“What? No way! That could get you scrapped if you get caught. Forget it, we’re miners. We just need to do our jobs well enough that maybe Sentinel will praise us once it’s all over.” Pax had looked disgusted at me when I said those words, but he had still clasped me close - having already decided then that whatever my disagreements with him, he was still keeping me. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t if you stop being such a stickler for the rules.” He seethed out, then he vented, forcing a genial smile. “Let’s not fight about this, D. I will go to the archives and, out of the goodness of my spark, I’ll even give you information that you could use to feed those dreams of yours.”

I guess I never really had a choice when it came to Pax’s schemes. So I just nodded along and let it go.

“Fine. Now, have you ever mined energon before?”

“No. You?”

“No. I hear it's dangerous.”

“I'll tell you what. You watch my back, I promise to watch yours.”

“Alright. Thanks... Pax.”

Pax had smiled, and I have to hope he genuinely meant it then, and raised his fist to bump against mine.

—

He hadn’t noticed that he was shaking until a servo clasped his shoulder. He looked up, his vision blurry as tears ran down his face plate. Still, he could distinguish that it was Starscream standing before him. Out of embarrassment, he tried to wipe his tears away with his arm, realizing only a little too late that he had used Sentinel’s torn arm instead of his own… He should probably work on replacing that soon. While Sentinel had turned out not to be entirely malicious, it didn’t feel right to be using the arm of a dead mech who lied.

“I’m fine.” He shrugged Starscream’s servo off, the gentle gesture a sting against his spark. Pax was the only one he ever let touch him so closely, and Pax had casted him out anyway. “Pax had always been like that. He had wanted to be more than just a miner. When Alpha Trion had given him a T-cog, it must have messed with his processor. Alpha Trion had seen a possible Prime in him and that affirmed everything Pax had ever wanted for himself. He wanted to be more. What could possibly be better than being considered a possible Prime?”

D let out a choked laugh, turning his optics to Starscream, and as he spoke he knew he sounded hysterical or even delusionally desperate. “But Pax wasn't only like that. He was good. He was kind. He had been there for me. Sure, he dragged me into his schemes but he cared for me. We were friends! We… are friends? I don’t know, but he came for me when Sentinel took me. He did. He apologized when he had accidentally chopped off my arm. The Pax I know… the Pax I love… is in there somewhere, I’m sure of it—”

“Maybe.” His ranting stopped as Starscream spoke. Even through the tears, he could see the pity in the mech’s eyes. “I know you want to believe there is goodness in your friend. But you forget, he betrayed you.” “He… He banished me. That’s different.”

Starscream vented, and Dee knew that this was a conversation they would have many times later. The mech tried to reach out for him again, but Dee recoiled. Starscream wasn’t Pax, and the pain of losing his friend was still raw. He refused to let anyone that close again, not until Pax either apologized or…

“Thank you for telling us what you know, we’ll ask you for more later on. For now… rest.” With that, the three High Guards left him, with Soundwave assuring him that if he needed someone to talk to, he could go to him.

So, he was left alone to spend his first night on the surface in a berth not yet his own.

As he fell into recharge, the last thoughts he had were of Pax.

They would meet again.

Dee would make sure of that.

He had to see…

He had to know…

He had to believe…

That his friend, that the mech he could have loved as even more than that, was still there…

That Orion Pax had existed.

That he wasn’t just pretending the whole time.

That Dee hadn’t only ever known a mask.

That Dee hadn’t only fooled himself.