#there is so much this doesn’t go over world building wise

[quibble-auk]

Final mission.

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil that story I told you about my Wild West dinosaur thing I made in the past. It’s far from perfect and there is less ranting in this version… but still a lot.

But Wild West dinosaur story let’s go

It’s really long

Quick disclaimer. I know the name “saurboy” is so incredibly stupid but I was using it for a placeholder and I can’t think of anything else for dinosaur cowboys… if you have any better ideas I’d love to hear them.

Please I’m desperate.

—

The setting sun hung heavily in the sky, painting the world in vibrant red, orange, and yellow hues. The earth seemed to mirror the sky, almost glowing in its radiance, burnt sienna, rusty orange, and clay red. A singular black silhouette stuck out dangerously against the burning earth and sky, clashing with the vibrant display.

A lone Saurboy and his mount.

The man, Levi, let out a small huff as his dinosaur, a worn Dilophosaurus, slowly trotted through the dry terrain of the Hialite desert. All around the man, the spectacle of the setting sun seemed to stretch on forever. The dilophosaurus, Oli, huffed gently and Levi smiled, reaching down to gently pat the dinosaur’s neck, “Sure is pretty, ain’t it?”

Oli softly cooed back, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. Levi nodded and looked around at the world around him, searching for any possible danger on instinct. It never hurts to be cautious. To most, the barren land housed nothing but rocks and the occasional scrappy shrub. Levi knew better than to believe that. Hidden in caves and under rocks, tucked away in caverns and canyons, beasts lurked. Raptors and tyrnnosaurs roamed through the lands, taking advantage of migrating herds and lost travelers.

The surrounding desert was mostly quiet, the only sounds being the rhythmic steps of Oli and the whistle of the wind. Occasionally a distant animal called out, the only evidence that creatures did in fact call the hospitable wasteland home. Most weren’t a cause of concern for Levi. As long as he stayed true to the faded path that navigated across the Forlorn Stretch, he would be alright.

Levi and Oli walked until finally the sun finished sinking beneath the earth and the silver lights of the moons shone brightly in the ebony sky. The duo came to a halt as the many creatures of the night began their longing calls and echoing laughs. Levi dismounted the dinosaur, giving the old dilophosaurus an affectionate pat as he pulled off their saddle. No reason to leave it on overnight when it would make the old dinosaur sore.

The Saurboy quickly gathered a few sticks and used some small logs that he had stashed away in his saddlebag to create a small fire for the night. The unbearable heat of the desert disappeared with the sun and paved a way for frigid nights. The two settled down around the crackling fire, not too far from the path. Oli offered a small affectionate warble as his rider sat next to him, leaning on the laying dinosaur. They sat in silence for several minutes, enjoying the peaceful night. Levi contently hummed,

“Well, Oli,” Levi began, huffing a bit as he readjusted himself, his worn joints protesting slightly at the movement. “This isn’t too bad, now is it?”

Oli turned his large crested head towards the man at the sound of his gruff voice. The saurboy ignored the constant paranoia that seemed to plague him. There was no reason he should be feeling such unease, he knew the truth though. It was inescapable and he could only ignore it for so long, he was a dead man walking.

“Just the two of us, out exploring the world,” Levi smiled despite himself. He gently scratched under Oli’s chin in a favorite spot of his, the dilophosaur’s eyes closed and his throat vibrated with a rumbling purr. The weight of the situation still rested heavily on the Saurboy’s stiff shoulders. This wasn’t just a patrol, they weren’t out traveling the stretch for people in need of help or helping migrate herds.

They were hunting rouges.

“Off on another adventure.” Levi continued. They had hunted rouges many times before, it was nothing foreign to him. Dare he say, he was pretty good at it, half of the assignments he was sent on was bounty hunting. However, the pit that sat in the man’s stomach seemed to know this would be his last.

“And when we’re done, we can settle down and retire,” He smiled bitterly. Oli cooed affectionately again, nuzzling his nose into Levi’s side, sighing contently. The dilophosaurus rested their large head in his lap. Levi’s smile shifted to something more affectionate as he gently petted the dinosaur, hand moving over the familiar crests and head. “Move onto some land next to my sister. She’s got a kid now, you know, Danny. I’m sure he’d love you, spoil you rotten.”

Oli warbled happily and Levi laughed bitterly, “You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”

As much fun as it was to fantasize about the life they may get to live after. The bitter truth remained constantly nagging in the back of his mind. How cruel fate was, to send him on a doomed assignment just before he retired. To assign the aged saurboy an assignment that had claimed hundreds of saurboys before him. And, if he didn’t succeed, would claim hundreds more after him as well.

Yes, Freda could be a cruel god when deciding the fate of her subjects.

He was no exception. The moment he touched that paper, he was dead. Everyone who had been assigned it was doomed the moment they touched the paper, destined to the same demise as the ones before them. Levi wasn’t just hunting some random rogue who happened to know how to aim. No, his target was far worse than that.

Levi was hunting the Golden Sisters.

The Golden Sisters, a notorious criminal syndicate that terrorized all of the west. A group of three sisters, each lethal in their own right. They went around, killing, plundering, and terrorizing the west as they pleased. They had been for years, their reign of terror never ending. No matter what the council did, they evaded punishment.

The youngest of the three was Wishbone Wendy, arguably the weakest of her sisters in Levi’s opinion. She was said to be fair and stunningly beautiful, dangerously so. The young woman would seduce her viciums, steal from them, kill them, then leave them for her pack of raptors to chew on. Wendy’s motives, while still not confirmed, seemed to be to kill any man she encountered that rubbed her the wrong way. Her signature was a wishbone left carefully placed on their lips, which always went untouched by the raptors.

Next in line was Bullriding Betty. Unlike her sly and cunning sister, Betty was a brunt. She stole herds, plundered towns, and created bloodbaths. She was a vengeful and brutal devil. Fueled by hate and anger, she punished those who she didn’t think fit in her twisted sense of justice. Any political figure was a target, though that didn’t stop her from taking her frustrations out on other innocent people. But she was far from stupid, she always seemed two steps ahead of everyone.

Bullriding Betty accompanied her sister—wherever there was Wendy, Betty was sure to follow.

The duo was sloppy to say the least. They left obvious trails and it was easy to predict their next move. By themselves, the two would be B tier rogues at most. Easily tracked down and stopped by a group of experienced Saurboys. However, their older sister was the reason why the two had found themselves atop the most wanted list for a record breaking time. She was the reason that the small family gang became so notorious, their namesake.

The eldest of the deadly trio was Golden Gabby. A mysterious figure that watched over the others, their silent protector. She was the reason for their success. The illusive rouge, though she had never been seen, certainly made her presence known to all.

Gabby hunted and killed anyone who dared to harm her sisters. She slaughtered all that dared to challenge them regardless of if they were other rogues or Saurboys. All without leaving a single clue as to who she was. Her trademark was a golden bullet. Whether she brutally tore through her victim with a pickaxe or lodged a bullet through their skull. A golden bullet was always found somewhere on the body.

Golden Gabby was by far the deadliest of the three. The second Levi took the assignment, she knew his name. Somehow, in some way, she always found out who had been assigned to find her sisters and herself. No matter what they did, the rogue always knew. Most reasonable people would think that it would mean they would stop sending Saurboys on this mission. But for the public’s sake, in order for them to feel some semblance of security, someone was always looking for them.

It was the harsh reality that a Saurboy had to accept, willingly or not. It was just a part of what they did. That’s how Levi found himself camping on the forlorn stretch of the Hialite desert, alone with his Dilophosaurus. Fated to meet a demise by the hand of Golden Gabby.

Levi was pulled from his haunted thoughts at the sound of distant footfall. He could hear the gentle but loud steps of some large herbivore on the worn path. Levi lifted his head slightly, tilting his hat up a bit. It was uncommon for a large herbivore to wander the desert alone. Many people used them as mounts, so it wasn’t as if it was unheard of. However, most avoided going on the Forlorn stretch unless they had good reason. It was far from safe. Travelers were a rare sight.

Despite Levi’s caution and paranoia, he remained where he was. He eyed the direction where the footsteps were coming from. His hand rested on the pistol at his hip, waiting for a reason to draw. After a minute or so went by, Levi concluded that whatever it was, it moved slowly. He huffed a bit, and sat up more, correcting his slouched posture. Oli stirred more with him, lifting his head as the faint sounds of wagon wheels on the dirt road joined the footsteps.

The herbivore was getting closer, close enough that Levi could just barely make out the vague outline of it off in the distance. It was large, very large, lumbering steadily forward. It looked like some kind of hadrosaur, with small front legs, powerful hind legs, and wide hips. Oli offered a small warble in the direction of the titan.

The dinosaur gave a hollow hum, in response. The hum echoed and carried in a way that only happened with a hadrosaurs crest. That was enough confirmation for Levi, it was a hadrosaur. It stood well over eleven feet tall, which helped narrow down the possibilities of what it could be.

They continued their steady approach. As the firelight slowly illuminated the dinosaur, Levi was finally able to name what it was. An Olorotitan, one of the largest members of the hadrosaur family. This one appeared to be male, if the size alone wasn’t enough the large and impressive fan shaped crest on its head did. It was adorned in proud colors, displaying its health and maturity. Overall not a common dinosaur to have, their large size made it difficult to maintain them. Despite that, this one seemed to be in good health.

Levi could see where a saddle was attached, the thick, dark leather standing out against the lighter tones of the dinosaur's skin. Oli tilted his head as the dinosaur approached, debating what their intentions were. Levi could feel the dinosaur’s muscles tensing as Oli shifted from his lax position to a more alert one. It was unlikely that the stranger meant trouble, but one could never be too sure when isolated on a trail.

As the hadrosaur grew closer, Levi could finally see who sat upon the titans back. From afar, he couldn’t make out too many details, the vague outline of who they were. Just like their dinosaur, the first thing that he couldn’t help but notice was their stature. The person was large, no doubt over 6 ft and bulky. There was no doubt in Levi’s mind that if this person was to get hostile, they would be able to overpower the older, leaner man.

The second thing he noticed was the wide-brimmed hat. Old leather, torn and faded from years of use. Levi lifted his chin, trying to examine the figure further. They appeared to be a woman, with well tanned skin and long black hair pulled into a neat single braid. As she drew nearer Levi finally called out a greeting, “Hello stranger.”

It was simple and curt, his tone neutral. He was simply acknowledging the other, making sure that in the unlikely scenario that she had been unaware of the other’s presence, she was now. The woman on the Olorotitan gently tugged the reins of her mount, coming to a slow halt. She dipped her hat in his direction, a friendly greeting.

“Hello, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else traveling these parts,” The woman spoke with a neutral tone, but her caution was evident, much like his own. Levi could see how she slowly sized him up, he felt a small smile tugging on his lips.

“I was thinking the same thing. What are you doing on the trail?” Levi offered, trying to properly size up the other himself. Even though she appeared to be friendly, Levi had learned through trial and error that it was better to be safe than sorry. The woman shifted, obviously thinking something similar, approach just as cautious as his. The way she held herself, straight-backed but relaxed, told Levi she wasn’t new to the road.

“Just hauling some materials from the mines near Stonerun, what about you?” Her eyes lingered on Oli. Most people would see the Dilophosaurus and assume that it was a Saurboy, but it wasn’t uncommon to see them be used by civilians as well. Rouges used them too, it was best not to assume anything, especially when handling precious cargo. Levi looked into the back of the wagon, sure enough, there were several crates worth of supplies.

The Olorotitan made more sense now. Their size could rival tyrannosaurs, as long as you had one while traveling, you didn’t have much to fear. Until it came to rouges. But the dinosaur’s strength and stamina made them excellent hauling dinosaurs.

“Just on an assignment, I’m heading to Colestall.” Levi wasn’t lying, technically. He just wasn’t telling the entire truth. He was traveling to Colestall. Levi would gather supplies there before continuing his search for the Golden Sisters. This stranger didn’t need to know what his reason was exactly. However vague his answer was, it seemed to satisfy the traveler and they nodded.

“I see,” She began, looking back at Levi as if she had confirmed something. Her posture shifted to be less rigid and more relaxed and open. “I’m headed there as well, mind if I accompany you?”

Levi wasn’t fazed by the question, that was just a part of being a Saurboy. No matter how experienced or prepared someone was, it was always easier to travel in a group. More specifically, travel with a Saurboy. For someone who was hauling precious materials, the desire was even higher. He shrugged,

“I don’t see why not.” He sighed, relaxing slightly. His hand no longer rested on his gun but he didn’t allow himself to completely relax into the same position as before. He leaned against Oli again but didn’t allow himself to slouch as he continued to watch the other.

The woman nodded before carefully climbing off the titan and guided it over to them. With a practiced ease she detached the wagon from the gentle giant and made her way over to the fire. The Olorotitan hummed gently before settling down next to the wagon, not far from the fire. The burly woman walked over and settled across the fire from them, placing down a few bags.

Now properly illuminated by the fire, Levi could examine her further. She wasn’t young, definitely younger than him, but far older than any rookie he knew of. He settled in mid to late thirties, at most early forties. Small wrinkles etched into her dark skin, a large scar raised on her right cheek. Across her back was a shotgun, it looked standard. Around her waist was a handgun of some sort. It was too large to be a pistol, granted, she may just have one custom made for her large gloved hands.

The majority of her outfit was hidden under a dark, heavy leather trench coat. Overall, she was an imposing sight, strong and sturdy, oddly matching her dinosaur companion. Her dark brown eyes lingered on the fire as a few moments of silence passed between the two. Levi decided that he would be the one to approach the other, choosing a friendly topic to help break some of the tension that had settled between them.

“Got any family waiting for you?” Levi asked, tone still cautious but friendlier than before. It was common to meet people on the trail, spill each other's life stories, then never see them again. It was almost an odd tradition of some sort. He had no doubt that once the ice was broken between the two, this would be no different.

The woman looked up at him from the fire and smiled fondly. “Yeah, I’ve got two sisters. They’re traveling merchants, so I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like.”

Levi returned the smile nodding and thinking of his own sibling. It had been ages since he had last seen her, at least a year, he could relate to the feeling of wanting to see her more. “I’ve got a younger sister, would give her the world if she asked for it.”

The woman across from him smiled kindly, and understanding settled between the two of them. “I feel the same way.”

Levi wasn’t one to doubt a friendly smile. But something about the way she said “I feel the same way” felt too damn familiar. Like she wasn’t just agreeing with him—there was something dangerous in the tone, a fierce loyalty perhaps. Regardless he nodded and smiled, carefully reaching over the fire to shake her hand. “My name's Levi, the Dilophosaurus is Oli. Figured your due for a proper introduction.”

The woman met his outstretched hand halfway through, grabbing it and giving it a firm shake. Her grip wasn’t uncomfortable but Levi could feel it tense slightly at his name. She smiled softly, “I’m Ella, my Olorotitan is Gus.”

Levi nodded, her tone was friendly and genuine but he couldn’t help but feel a strange tension grow within him. Why had she tensed up when he gave her his name? She must have known someone that shared the name, it wasn’t an uncommon one.

“Bout’ to say, that's quite the dinosaur you’ve got,” Levi complimented.

Ella gave a small glance to where Gus had settled and a small chuckle escaped her throat. “I’d be careful, the last thing I need is for it to go to his head. He’s already got quite an ego.”

Levi laughed, looking at his own companion, who had yet to relax fully. “I understand that, Oli can be a bit egotistical at times.”

There was a small pause.

“Do you work in the mines, or do you just transport?” Levi asked, looking her over again. Ella was built like a miner, if not for her height. She was broad-shouldered, strong, sturdy, and definitely had the ability to manhandle almost anyone. But miners usually never traveled very far from where they worked. Her deeply tanned skin also told a different story.

Ella’s eyes returned to the fire, smile falling as she responded casually “I used to work in the eastern mines on Stonerun before they shut down, since then I’ve just been transporting. I’ve decided to not play with fate.”

Levi raised his brows in shock. It wasn't very often he met someone who had worked in the eastern mines. Most had died in the mines or had passed due to the health problems the mines promised. Those who did survive usually suffered from various medical issues regardless. It was dirty work. Yet, Ella seemed perfectly fit. She seemed to catch onto his train of thought, and smiled.

“I was younger and I didn’t work in the mines for very long. Never in the parts with hazardous gas leaks or anything. Pretty sure my sisters would have thrown a fit.” she explained with a casual smile, her tone humorous.

Levi gave a small “Oh” in response, nodding slightly. She must have gotten questions frequently.

“How long have you been a saurboy?” Ella asked in a light tone, nothing sinister. Just a genuine question.

Levi blinked, nostalgia and memories stirring up when he thought of his younger years. Since his time as a rookie most of the friends he had made—that were other saurboys—had either retired, or passed. Being a saurboy wasn’t easy, and it showed in the retirement rate. A bitter smile graced his features as he watched the flame dance in the dark. Memories seemed to dance along with it, joyful and fond memories now bittersweet with age.

He gave a tired chuckle, bones and joints aching with the thought. The recklessness of his youth had long since caught up with him, the constant ache in his bones attested to that. The slight limp in his step, the tremble in his hand. “Oh, I’ve been a saurboy for a long time, a little over 30 years now.”

Ella raised her brows, letting out a low, impressed whistle. Shock and respect crossing her features, a knowing smile quickly settled on her own face, “Are you close to retiring?”

Levi nodded and smiled, leaning back to rest more of his weight on Oli, “This is my last mission, then I’m officially hanging up the saddle and settling down somewhere.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the thought, ignoring how he knew better. He only prayed to Freda that Oli would at least get to live the rest of his days getting to relax and rest. His partner had served him well and deserved a happy ending, even if Levi wasn’t going to be a part of it.

Ella smiled brighter, yet there seemed to be another emotion hidden in the strained smile. “Congratulations, can’t say I’ve met many saurboys who are close to retiring, let alone one who is on their final assignment.” Ella nodded in respect towards the elder man.

Once again, there was an emotion hidden well enough that Levi couldn’t decipher it. A chuckle was pulled from Levi, followed by a sigh “Yeah, well, not many of us make it this far unfortunately.”

Ella nodded from across the fire. From behind her there was a small hiss and Gus let out a hollow hum, earning looks from everyone around the fire. Oli’s attention shifted from Ella to gus seamlessly, nostrils flaring. Ella turned around and Levi shifted to the side to peer into the darkness at the giant.

“What’s up, Gus?” Ella asked in a hushed tone. The large head of the giant turned her way and let out an echoing rumble in response. He shook his head slightly, humming as he did. A small yapping sound followed it, along with the appearance of a nimble raptor. It squawked when it saw Ella, and approached her, cautiously eyeing Levi.

“Oh, ist just you.” Ella said under her breath, reaching for the small creature. Levi looked at her, Oli watched the small raptor with an intense stare.

“You’ve got a raptor?” he asked plainly. He was shocked to be honest, Ella didn't seem like the kind of person to have a raptor. If it was hers, how hadn’t he seen or heard it before? Raptors tended to be vocal, this one seemed to be no expedition.

“Oh, no.” Ella began, waving a dismissive hand, and shaking her head slightly. She smiled at the thought. The raptor walked up to her, proudly presenting its fluffy chest. She gently picked it up, the raptor looked small in her large hands.

“This is one of my sister’s raptors, we use them to communicate.” Ella explained as she gently reached for the collar hidden among the dense feathers and pulled off a small piece of paper. Her hand subconsciously stroked the back of the dainty dinosaur. It purred happily, eyes closing.

“She’s got an entire pack of the suckers, more than one pack at this point. Anytime she finds one on the side of the road she insists that she needs it, it's an ongoing problem.” Ella explained further. Levi smiled, nodding along as the woman began to open the message without much thought.

“Treats them like they’re her kids, spoiled rotten. She knits them sweaters and everything, absolutely adores them. Drives my other sister up a wall, she can’t stand them.” Ella finishes as she opens the paper and falls silent as she reads it, a content smile on her face as her eyes scanned the sheet.

Despite how innocent and friendly the conversation was, a bit of dread settled in Levi’s stomach, yet the experienced Saurboy couldn’t quite place it. Levi forced words out of his mouth with a small understanding smile, “They seem like quite the handful.”

“You have no idea. Those two are a heap of trouble.” Ella looked up, chuckling a bit and smiling, it was a genuine smile, making her eyes crease. The pit in Levi’s gut continued to spread. Levi became even more aware of just how alone they were out here, in the middle of the stretch. It would take days for anyone to find him, weeks even, if he were to be hurt.

“I can imagine, I only have one sister and it feels like a handful. I can’t imagine having two to keep track of.” Levi spoke, keeping his tone light, not exposing his sudden unease. He tried to return to the casual conversation shared between the two.

Ella shook her head, folding the paper back up and slipping it into a side bag. The raptor jumped down from her lap and curled by her feet. “Eh, you get used to it. Couldn’t imagine living without the two of them, love ‘em to bits. As you said earlier, I would give them the world.”

She spoke freely, pausing when she made eye contact with Levi. The unease spread through Levi, his heart rate began to speed up. There was something about the way she had just looked at him, just a flicker, she seemed almost predatory. He subtly moved his hand closer to his pistol, not quite resting his hand on it.

“Would walk to the gates of hell for them. Bring the world crashing down if it meant they were safe.” Ella spoke calmly, but the smile had fallen from her eyes and face. There was something more sinister in her words, some dangerous undertone to them. Her dark eyes bore into Levi intensely.

Something flashed beneath the dark cloak that Ella wore, moving as she shifted slightly. Her elbows now resting on her knees as she leaned forward intently. A flash of a belt buckle, something that Levi had looked over. It was rather plain, nothing too fancy. A single letter engraved into the shining metal, a glowing gold. Yet the singular letter sent Levi’s thought spiraling regardless.

A sick feeling twisted inside him as realization dawned on the elder.

He had been blind, he had been a fool. Levi had been played like some kind of rookie. All of the puzzle pieces fell into place and Levi felt himself tense up, adrenaline pumping through his blood making his hands tremble with anticipation. The mention of the sisters, the tensing, the look she had given when they had first met, when she had confirmed something.

Engraved in the golden belt buckle was the letter ‘G’.

This was Golden Gabby.

She wasn’t traveling from a mine, she was hunting, pretending to deliver resources, a very clever lie. Her dinosaur and overall demeanor was very off putting, deceiving. A lone traveler delivering supplies, someone that Saurboys were already used to sharing a campfire with, they were used to being friendly with.

Levi’s eyes trailed down further, just below her belt, painfully obvious and glaringly exposed; a strap with golden bullets slung across it. Slowly he looked up, meeting her face. She was blankly staring at him, as if waiting for an answer. Had she spoken to him? Asked him a question? Levi didn’t know, he could barely hear anything over the ringing in his ears and rushing of his blood. The dark look remained on her face.

She knew that he knew.

“Levi.” She spoke low, it splintered the ringing in his ears and suddenly the world was too loud. The crackling of fire sounded like gunshots, the cackling of animals in the distance was mocking laughter, the whistling wind seemed to scream. He blinked, blankly staring at her, at Gabby.

“I’m sure you understand the feeling don’t you?” She said in a low and dangerous voice, a growl. Oli tensed, his head shifting to Ella—no, Gabby. His yellow eyes trained on her. The dilophosaurus, after having spent years with Levi, could feel his partner's panic, his adrenaline; and within moments, he had figured out what the source was.

Some part of Levi felt betrayed. There was an unspoken rule, an agreement between travelers, that promised protection. Gabby had broken it, he had welcomed her to his fire and she had approached with the intent to kill. Levi couldn’t stop the hesitant nod that escaped him. Gabby slowly stood, looming over Levi, who remembered just how small he was compared to her.

“Good.” Gabby said as she came to her full height. Oli slowly stood up, if Levi had still been leaning on him, he would have fallen down. But Levi had gone stiff, sitting straight and tall. Oli growled, teeth bared in warning. Levi cringed at the sound, his hand once again resting on his pistol, he slowly pulled it out of its holster. Gabby briefly glanced at up at Oli,

“It’s a shame. I liked you.” She began, slinging her shotgun off of her shoulder and quickly cocking it. The grinding and sliding metal made Levi flinch, forcing him to stand. It didn’t matter, she still dwarfed him. Behind Gabby, Gus began to move, the walking tank slowly standing. Levi’s grip tightened around his pistol, his mind honed in on Gabby, watching her, waiting for her to move.

“Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.” She added grimly, her shoulders shifting as she looked down at Levi. The shotgun was an interesting choice for how close they were. But it was more powerful than a pistol, better for killing a dinosaur Dilophosaurus sized.

“Sorry, it’s nothing personal.” Gabby shifted the gun in her hands, lifting it to take aim. Just as she did, all of the instinct and experience that Levi had gained from his years as a saurboy seemed to come crashing down on him.

Just as she readied her aim, time seemed to slow down painfully, then speed up again within seconds. Levi lifted his pistol. He didn’t bother to aim. His finger crushing the trigger just as bright light blinded him. Levi tried to move, darting to the side as quickly as he could. The thunderous booming of gunfire deafened Levi, echoing around the barren desert, searing pain exploded in his hip.

Oli leapt forward, eyes keen on Gabby. The Dilophosaurus was caught midair by the swinging tail of Gus. They collided with a sickening crack. Oli squawked in pain, but he quickly recovered. He scrambled to his feet as soon as he was on the ground to face off with Gus. His mouth opened in an angry guttural hiss. His claws raised as he coiled, reading for another attack.

Levi fell to the ground, shouting as pain flared in his right leg. He could hear Gabby take a few steps back, grunting in her own pain. Levi wasted no time. He pulled his trembling hand from his wound to grip his pistol defensively. He ignored the red that stained his palm. He lifted the pistol and took a shaky aim. Once again he fired a shot.

Gabby stumbled. Hand quickly pressing against her side as blood blossomed like a flower. She had dropped her shotgun after the first initial shots had been fired. Her other hand reached for her pistol. Levi tried to fire again, but the dizziness provided by blood loss made him hesitate. The moment of hesitation had sealed his fate.

Just as quickly as before, thunderous gunfire echoed. Levi’s vision spun and his mind reeled as pain sprouted in his chest. He let out a small gasp. The saurboy dropped his gun, muscles spasming slightly. His hearing rang with the final gunshot as his vision blurred with unshed tears. His open hand hesitantly reached for his chest. There was something slick and warm there. Levi didn’t need to look down to know what it was. A strangled gasp left his throat as he forced a burning breath through his aching lungs.

Levi had lost.

Was he ever going to win?

Slowly, Levi lied down, gasping for air he didn’t realize was hard to get. His attention was drawn to the left side of him as the ground shook with impact. He slowly turned his head to watch as Oli was slammed into the ground by Gus’ legs. The dilophosaurus let out a screech. A pained whine left Levi's throat. The Olorotitan pulled away, leaving the still form of Oli. It took a moment for Levi to realize he was crying.

Gabby walked over to him, a dark fire alight in her stormy eyes. She looked down at him, one hand pressed against her steadily bleeding side. Another red spot grew from one of her shoulders. She glowered down at him, a pickaxe he didn’t know she had gripped loosely in her other hand.

She opened her mouth, saying something. Levi couldn’t concentrate long enough to decipher what was spoken. Instead he wondered if anyone would ever find his body or if he would forever remain lost. Gabby lifted her pickaxe. Levi thought about what his sister would think of this. The pickaxe made its descent downwards. He really wished that Oli had gotten to retire.

There was a sickening crunching sound.

Levi’s world went dark.

[fall-inq]

Blackberry Jam 

I got tired of seeing no platonic Nikto or Krueger so I thought I’d try writing some. Feedback is welcome!

Pairing: Krueger x Nikto x Platonic Reader

Warnings: Nikto and Krueger being Nikto and Krueger, Violence, Car wrecks?, Reader nearly dies, No comfort, Possible innacurate geography

Read my rules

“Remind me to never trust you two with driving.” You grumble, holding back the urge to shove Nikto. With Chimera and KorTac’s recent team-up, you find yourself often paired up with the most unstable men from both sides. Nikto you were more familiar with. 

Krueger…not so much. You could tell that they knew each other well- way better than you would ever know. Which was fair- seeing as you were a “new addition to the team” in one of the most terrifying PMC’s in the world. Unsurprisingly, no one was eager to meet you or be put on a mission with you, Nikto especially. “This one is a runt,” he had said. “We should just kill it now.” Heartwarming, how kindly KorTac welcomed their newest operators. How wise they were to immediately pair you with him on missions. Usually, you were chosen like the last one picked in dodgeball and the one who took most of the hits. Now you were just the one who took the hits.

Both of you hated each other at first. His most common complaints were that you “talked to much.” That turned into “They don’t listen to me” because you’d be silent on missions with him. Then it was “they put us into danger,” and “get themself landed in the infirmary too often.” Over time, the complaints died down and Nikto grew tolerant of you, and you figured out when he wanted you to be quiet and when to talk. Instead of you two avoiding each other when not on active duty, he partly does it now, sometimes sitting down at the table to watch your Black Jack games with Horangi. Both of you ended up teaching him the game despite his uninterest.

It’s silly, growing jealous over someone who has known him longer. Why are you even jealous? Your relationship with Nikto is more so “forced into a get-along T-Shirt” than willing acquaintances. He and Krueger have known each other for years. There’s also the significant difference in mental stability. …Maybe that’s why he avoids you- he doesn’t want to hurt you. Or maybe it’s the usual: you’re annoying to him.

What’s worse is that Krueger noticed, and the smug bastard enjoys it. And yes, he does tease you about it. The taunts are the only thing he says to you.

Bitter feelings aside, the mission was running as smoothly as a mission with the two idiots could go. The task was simple: Investigate some small buildings on the coast of the recently captured Southern area of Verdansk, search them for intel, weapons free on any hostiles. At least, you thought it was simple from the back of the stolen ZIL-4334 the three of you entered. Mistake #1: You failed to notice Nikto entering the driver’s seat. Mistake #2: You failed to see Krueger do a sign of the cross despite not being religious. Krueger’s mistake was not squeezing you between him and Nikto. Or maybe that was purposeful.

Nikto floored it the second he decided he was ready to go. Poor, unwise little you slammed against the back of the truck’s cabin as the vehicle lurched forward. You hadn’t even realized you hit your head. Or that you were screaming as Nikto drove through a fence and sharply turned onto the road. Was that laughter? Was Nikto laughing? It was an odd, muffled sound. Rough, deep, and barking, like you had imagined. Despite your terror, you mentally celebrated. Horangi owes you his rations. Andre Nikto was capable of laughing.

That was also the moment the truck swerved again and tipped over. Due to the severe lack of tarp, you were launched out of the cargo bed easily, landing roughly on the asphalt and tumbling in the opposite direction. That would’ve been fine-ish, had you not kept rolling and had the terrain not started sloping down. The smell of burning rubber, road, salt and dirt filled your nose as your hands frantically tried to find purchase on the ground. A flock of birds startle and fly away at the sound.

“Nikto!”

You're falling backwards. The wind rushes past your head.

“NIKTO!”

You can hear the waves. You try to scream again-

A hand roughly grabs onto your arm and yanks you forward, giving you whiplash as you fall onto the road face-first yet again. You lie there while one of your teammates walks over to your front and squats down, his hand grabbing you by your cheeks and pulling your head up. “Krueger,” the Austrian answers. You know the fucker is smiling behind his dumb hood. “Come on. Up, up.” He drawls, using his other hand to pat your cheek. Smacking his hand away, you rise and dust yourself off, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in your head. Which brings you back to the present- walking down the highway next to the Verdansk coast.

“You’ve never seen me drive,” Krueger points out after your complaint, his monotone voice going light as he calls back. “And I never want to, thank you.” You retort, rubbing your scraped-up cheek. The taller of the group falls back from Nikto’s side to join yours as you walk. “…You are alright?” He huffed a laugh as you side-eyed him. “What? I care.” Krueger mocks, causing Nikto to snort. “He lies.” You know he does. Both of them do. “You’re young,” the Austrian remarks- like he’s secretly saying that you’re inferior and don’t belong. Like you’re a beetle he wants to crush under his boot simply for fun. Your frown deepens. “So?” He shrugs. “Shouldn’t you be making friendship bracelets with the 141? They’d be happier to have canon fodder like you.” You know it’s on purpose. You know Krueger- an asshole who tries to get a rise out of anyone. You should be the bigger person and you fail. “You motherfucker-” You want to punch him. You want to throw him off the side of the cliff. Want to break something of his even though you know he’ll rock your shit and gloat about it. “Stop.” Nikto barks, shooting the two of you a harsh glare that doesn’t affect the taller one of the group. The mood dies like a paper tossed into flame. It shrivels and blackens and falls apart into ash. The Austrian rejoins the Russian, leaving you in your usual spot.

It’s silent again. The birds are long gone. A tiny part of you wants to flee, too. The tiny part that wants to run away to a world where everything is okay and your childhood bedroom was never changed. “I’m hungry,” Krueger whines from up ahead. “Not our issue,” Nikto replies curtly. “I’ll make it your issue.” Krueger shoots back. “You do that I’ll remove your stomach with my hands.”

“I’d like that,” Krueger hums. You wrinkle your nose. “Ew. Gross.” What was more gross was the blood leaving your mouth when you spat on the side of the road. “You shut up, this is an adult conversation.” Krueger replies curtly. “Can the “adult conversations” wait for some cheap motel room-” “Both of you shut up!” Nikto suddenly snaps. You comply, though Krueger simply huffs a laugh. The last thing you want is an over-paranoid Nikto. Krueger seems to want exactly that.

The wind rustles past you again. The waves get harsher for a moment before settling down a little. A gray expanse stretches over the three of you and you suddenly feel like you’re in some sort of apocalypse. Is it going to rain? Krueger pauses, his attention focused on some bushes on the roadside.

“[C/N], come.” Krueger demands, walking over to the bushes. “Why?” He merely gestures with his hand. You can feel Nikto’s irritation rising like a steaming tea kettle’s squeal as you rush over to him. “We don’t have time for this,” the older snaps. “I’m getting a snack!” Krueger shushes, crouching next to the bushes. He grabs one of his small storage bags and opens it. “Look,” he urges, pulling you down. Blackberry bushes. It’s odd how such things can grow in the middle of a war zone. “Help me.” He says, grabbing one of the black-purple berries and plucking it. You follow the action, grabbing one, two, three.

“Sebastian,” Nikto demands hotly. For a moment you forgot he existed. You wonder how many times he’s done the same. Krueger stands, ignoring the dirt on his knees as he walks back over to the Russian and offers him a blackberry. The small berry is smacked out of his hand. You wonder if Krueger pouted as he zipped up the bag and clipped it onto his belt. “Don’t ask me for any when you’re hungry later.” He teases. Nikto forces a deep breath. “We don’t get hungry.”

Before any of you can move on, Hell breaks loose. Someone tackles Krueger- an enemy- and there’s a burst of deep dark liquid when the two hit the ground and a flash of metal. The hostile raises the blade again, aiming for Krueger’s face while Krueger pushes at the man’s chest- and then there’s Nikto, snatching the man’s arm and pulling it back farther than it should go. There’s a gross crunch and pop sound that’s partly drowned out by the hostile’s pained shout.

You fumble with your gun as Nikto tears the man to shreds. Bones continue pop out of place and break at his assault all while Krueger simply lays there as if he were cloud watching. Finally getting a goddamn grip, you raise the weapon at the man’s head while Nikto chokes him in a headlock. His arm presses further and further into the man’s neck, making the enemy sputter and gasp for air that won’t come through.. You imagine a blade, sawing at the man’s skin in an enraged effort to cut it off. You could imagine the red spilling. Imagine the garbled, bubbly cries as the man coughs up his own blood. You hear the crunch of a throat and finally fire a bullet into the fool’s head.  Nikto drops him with a jolt before storming over to you. The body falls like a plushie falls off a child’s bed. Meaningless and anti-climactic.

Nikto cuffing the back of your head knocks you out of your thoughts. “What have we told you about staying on task?!” He shouts, cuffing you again before shoving you to the ground. You don’t bother trying to argue. Stupid Krueger- it’s his fault for dragging you into his dumb distraction. You know that it’s your fault for listening to him and you don’t want to admit it. 

Sebastian stands, feeling his side curiously. The Russian abandons you and sets his sights on the Austrian. “Nikto, it’s fine.” He, too, is shoved to the ground. Krueger tuts. “Andre,” he calls, tone dropping. There’s no answer as Nikto crawls on top of him, pulling out his blade and moving to cut away the fabric hiding Krueger’s wound.

Only there’s no wound. Just dark purple…juice? Krueger pushes the Russian away and detaches the pouch the blackberries were in from his belt. It’s wet- covered in dark stains of what both you and Nikto thought was blood. Krueger opens the bag. “…It’s jam,” He explains with an irritating smirk, scooping some out on his finger and bringing it to his mouth. He tastes it and wrinkles his nose. “Hm, could be better.” Nikto’s fist connects with his face. Unsure whether to help the Austrian or to go looking for the intel, you watch the scuffle for a few moments before deciding it was best to go with the latter.

“Can one of you explain to me why Nikto and Krueger are covered in crushed blackberries and bruises?” Nikolai sighs, trying to keep his composure. Both of the masked men look at you accusingly. “[C/N],” Nikolai sighs. “What the fuck did I do?!

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Weedequitte

Asks are open my little giggle biscuits!

Scout

He hands that joint back WET

Slobber dripping off the sides, the tips cold when you go to take a puff, and you can see the corner of his mouth glisten

If Scout ever got high he would have munchies and get scared. He would have to go outside and walk around, maybe even hug a tree for comfort

Coughing and gagging in the most annoying way possible. Like that one cat picture with its protruding tongue and watery eyes void of complex thought

Scout couldn’t handle a bong. Just couldn’t. Stick to a cold can of bang! He might try to make a bong outta a bang can, but he won’t figure it out

Soldier

Do not give him weed.

Do not give him anything.

Dont give him any drug hes insane nuts bonkers and, yes, even bananas

He took acid once by mistake. Ended up in Europe a year after the war ended

Soldier is borderline on a good day but king will spiral into a drug induced psychosis. There will be bugs, skin, and a whole lot of paperwork for Medic

Wouldn’t even smoke he’s a total fucking narc too

Says devils lettuce

Demoman

Uses every weed euphemism known to man

Mary J is his fav. Kush, grass, gas, doubie, all of them

Approaches Sniper while the poor bastard making his trek between camper and civilization. Demo does an insinuating chuckle and says, ‘let’s make love to that wee lass Mary J’

Sniper starts running

He prefers drinking but this guy smoked some grass back in the day. Doesn’t fuck around and can pass a blunt without falling out

In half baked, Demo is the guy who gets munchies and accidentally kills the horse

Will smoke with Sniper and always provides what he can or hits a curtesy role, but he doesn’t pursue weed much and if snipes didn’t share, probably wouldn’t smoke

It does help the pain from his missing eye!

Pyro

One time, he got wild.

Pyro burned down an entire pot grow and was absolutely spazzing off that za rolling his way down the mountain

They were on the astral plane the entire hike down. Pyro crashed through the trees, crawled, laughed hysterically, cried, and vomited. Pyro drank water from a creek thinking it was the fountain of immortality

Pyro befrinded a squirrle named Banabo Jo. He knew Jo and knew his people were wise and brave. Banabo Jo recognized Pyro’s mystical capabilities and ability to see beyond, thus creating a mutual respect and brotherhood.

Banabo Jo guided Pyro from the mountain top and into the Heart of the Valley. He watched over as Pyro awaited rescue and gave the sacred squirrel farewell through the van window

(hypersensitive to drug induced psychosis)

Heavy

Rolls a blunt on Medic’s back and smokes it while they fuck

Smokes weed but only pipes. Very rarely will roll with paper, typically in the aforementioned situation

He can do some of the smoke tricks like puffing out O’s. He cannot french inhale and tbh has a chronic stuffy nose 😏

Medic

Wholeheartedly believe in and support the usage of medical marijuana

Smoked a little weed in university, but his classmates were too scared of him to invite him to the smoke sesh

He kinda gives off narc vibes!! Completely chill though, unless he could gain from blackmailing you

Asks if Sniper wants to puff and Sniper is shocked! Medic uses pompous words like oder tho and not the German oder

Arches his back so Heavy can sprinkle some flower on him for the roll-hole ritual

Engineer

Scene in Top Gun, “we’re in the spirit world asshole!” HIM OKAY HIM

Builds intricate and sick as fuck bong structures, dab rigs, and some real crazy stoner shit.

He love getting blazed and tinker with something, but that did cost him the tip of his pinkie finger

He’s a lightweight and really just skims a hit or two and bounces

Totally hotboxes that fucking workshop

Spy

He’s a classy kind of smoker

No weed inside, at least not his house. Very discreet about it and even if he was just in the world’s foggiest hotbox, he would never snell like week

No weed smell ever it’s incredible

Mainly sticks to cigarettes but he will smoke with Sniper.

Smoking, whether it be weed or cigarettes, is a form of foreplay for them fr

He never has cotton mouth either

Sniper!!

Save the best for last bc he is a canon pothead

Sniper just tries to be a chill guy. Go to work, fire a gun, smoke some weed. Would he like more? Sure. But is he okay where he’s at? Good enough

The first to discover his gardening habit was Spy. The whole breaking and entering thing really gives away secrets

Sniper has SO MUCH TEA. Various team members come to him and smoke, which is cool with him. He prefers when they replenish his stash, though. Or at least give him something in return

When they smoke they also complain. Inhibitions are dropped and suddenly Sniper knows that Demo is pissed at Medic for not letting him drink rubbing alcohol, every though Demo knew it would kill him, because he and Pyro were trying to light a burp on fire

He only enjoys smoking with Spy and Ms. Pauling. Pauling is fun and they talk mad shit together, maybe do something stupid on a minor scale

Spy and Sniper venture into the bush if yk what im saying. Weed is just kinda a plus but Spy can get too zesty sometimes

[ismellbitches]

I’m ill over the albatrio so yall get my head canons. Some of these are a bit heavy and deal with abuse, trauma and similar themes. Maybe skip this one if you don’t feel up for it 🩷🩷

Jay:

- Kira was her bisexual awakening. They went on a summer camp together and kissed while on a hike. Neither of them have brought it up since.

- She has such bad anxiety bro. Like she is always using nervous energy to complete projects or to fight, but every few days she would just get paralysed by overwhelming anxiety and shut down. Once she shut down in front of chip, now he tries to help her in any way he can when she starts getting too worked up.

- she has a complicated relationship with gender. She’s explored a lot of different things gender wise, but doesn’t quite feel comfortable with any label she has found. She ended up talking to Jaz a bit about it when they were travelling together.

- She enjoys textile work and makes and mends most of her clothes

- She used to only be toned before her time on the Albatross, but she now has a much bulkier build.

- Her favourite subject was math

- She still has a fat crush on Anastasia

- she got a lip ring to match Chip

- She doesn’t like getting drunk around people because she thinks it makes her too honest.

Gillion:

- He loves physical touch. He used to receive so little of it in the Undersea that it is still very hard for him to iniate, but he will always lean into hugs or captain huddles like it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

- Gillion is sex-repulsed. That’s it.

- He has a bad habit of digging his claws into the nearest person or object when he feels unsafe or ungrounded. There are so many deep gouges in the captains quarters from times where the ship would rock or he felt particularly unsafe.

- he doesn’t like to think. This one sounds weird but let me cook. It’s not for a lack of intelligence or that he doesn’t consider things deeply, it’s that when he thinks he tends to spiral, and when he spirals it is difficult for him to work. This is reflected in his reckless battle tactics, he has enough ambient knowledge to be a good tactician, but fighting is when he can fully allow instinct to take over. It makes him feel at ease.

- he has a mental list of the awful names his masters would call him. But, during his time in the Oversea, the mental list has been overwhelmed by pet names and compliments given by his fellow captains.

- Sunlight is harsh on his eye so he relies on Jay and Chip more in harsh daylight for perception and awareness.

- he likes to braid ropes, bracelets, hair. Anything he can idly do with his hands when he isn’t working

- he likes to speak Aquan with Jay. It makes him still feel connected to his home.

Chip:

- normally the instigator of any small fights between the captains. He’s so used to always having to be guarded it regularly comes as a point of conflict.

- the ice arena battle deeply wounded his trust is Gillion and Jay. He had just started to feel safe and as though he didn’t deserve to be hurt when he made mistakes, so he felt really betrayed and abandoned after the first ice arena battle. Part of him still isn’t over it.

- He’s sensitive. Reuben used to criticise how easily words and insults affected him, so he presents it a lot less than he used to. But slight criticism or irritation with him or insults really deflate his self worth.

- Chip has a complex about being the weakest link on the Albatross

- After the Black Sea, the thought of seeing Ollie in his undead state is so nauseating it makes him fall over

- The best hug he’d ever received was from Reuben. He was young, sick and hungry and it was storming fiercely on Skullslice. Reuben had held him tight and refused to let him go for the whole night, just hugging Chip while he cried.

- If he could choose any superpower, he’d want the ability to pause, rewind, or fast forward time. Also lasers.

- He has a stuffed animal in the bottom of his trunk that he’s owned since he was 4.

- It took him a long time to figure out how old he was. He didn’t know his birthday, so he ended up choosing one. He ended up picking the day Arlin has let him into the Black Rose

- He’s never tried chocolate.

- He finds Queen really pretty, but in like a platonic, gender-envy type beat

- he has a secret love for writing. He writes poetry, little stories and more, he keeps them buried at the bottom of his trunk because he’s scared of what the others will think if they see it.

- his love language is acts of service

- him, Gil and jay cuddle a lot. Don’t read into that weirdly, all the captains just really need a hug

- he holds people’s hands a lot. It’s unconscious and when he catches himself doing it he immediately stops, but Jay and Gil don’t mind.

- Gil was his gay awakening in the sense that he fell really hard for Gil as a person. But, Jaz was like huge for him because he was just like holy fuck this dude is so pretty what do I do the whole time they travelled together.

- La Alma is on his heart me out cake

[lucid-loves]

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 8

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 5k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 

Chapter Synopsis: You’ve arrived in Paris and have successfully infiltrated the catacombs. However, things take an unexpected turn for the best and worst.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

The train approached the station right on time, the brakes smoothing out right onto the platform. By now, the train station was busy with people. It wouldn’t be hard to lose someone within the crowd. That was why it was so important to tag the targets instead of relying on eyesight alone. 

From a suitable distance, the 141 tailed Makarov’s men, making sure to blend in when necessary. It wasn’t hard to look like one of the many groups of tourists in Paris. An odd group, but a group nonetheless. Soon enough, you halted the chase, allowing the targets to head to their destination. If you followed them all the way to their secret entrance, you all would be spotted immediately. For now, it was wise to head to a hotel spot nearby and track the targets by computer. The men weren’t used to hotel hopping so much. According to you, it was much less conspicuous to stay in a hotel rather than a guarded building on behalf of the United States government. 

Not that they were complaining. They were grateful to have comfortable beds while on a mission. There were many, many missions that required them to sleep on the ground. Sometimes they didn’t have sleeping bags or cots with them. The actual beds have led to most of them getting better rest than normal.

This hotel looked just about the same as the last one. Pretty generic, clean, and only local art on the walls that looked similar to the many artists on the streets. The room pairing was the same as well. Soap and Ghost in a room, Price and Gaz in the other, and one all to yourself. You didn’t mind bunking with any of them if it was necessary. Right now, it just wasn’t.

Ghost was a little disappointed that you didn’t invite him to stay with you, but he wasn’t surprised. Admittedly, a part of him did love the chase. He also had a new motivation when it came to you. Complete the mission and convince you to stay. He knew that you were wavering when it came to the possibility of going back off the grid after everything was over. While he wasn’t sure what you would end up doing if you decided to stick with him, he didn’t care. He just wanted you by his side.

Perhaps if you could see how capable he was during the final stages of the mission, you would.

You all sat in a bedroom, carefully tracking the targets and their luggage. On a large map, Gaz began to trace the trail for Paris on the surface. Price was going through local cameras as well to determine their secret entrance. Soap was looking at a laptop that kept track of them with red dots. All of it took coordination and relying on each other. When it came down to it, the 141 was like a well-oiled machine.

As soon as Gaz noticed that the tracking route didn’t match the Paris roads and Price lost sight, Ghost and you began tracking the targets on a different map. A massive map of the catacombs. When men went one way while the luggage went the other, you both picked out a focus and traced them on the map. The targets went deeper into the catacombs each minute, amplifying just how dangerous this mission was going to be.

The targets were far from where tourists were allowed to be. It seemed like they were venturing into parts that haven’t even been discovered yet. If the 141 wasn’t careful, they could get lost or die. Whichever came last.  

The team spent hours mapping it all out. By the time you all had a better grip on the labyrinth layout, it was nightfall. 

You’ve skipped lunch with the team in order to memorize the route. Worst case scenarios, you lose light or lose the map. Memorizing the routes could save you if the worst happened. It took you a long time, though. By the time you did, you were starving for dinner.

Thankfully, Simon saved a room service plate for you. He didn’t like the fact that you skipped lunch, but he decided it wasn’t worth the fight. All that mattered was that you had something in your stomach for dinner. Not that you were completely engrossed in your meal to really enjoy it, though.

During dinner, you went over the plan with the team. It was proving to be much too dangerous to have all of you enter the maze of bones. There needed to be backup on the surface. It was finally decided that you, Ghost, and Gaz would go into the labyrinth while Price and Soap tracked you from above. Before leaving, you would plant trackers on yourselves. Then, after entering the maze, Ghost and Gaz would separate from you to head to a different part of the catacombs for standby. You would follow the target route, refine the map with new discoveries, and find Makarov to assassinate him. 

If Makarov wasn’t there, you would call him there. However, that meant spending a night underground. 

As everyone geared up in their rooms, you sat alone in yours. You’ve never been nervous about a mission before. You have always kept your cool, confident that you would be able to finish the job no matter what happened. In and out. Undetected. The fear of death never even had you anxious. Now? Now it was different. There were actually many things on the line for you. Too much at stake to make any mistakes.

There was a soft knock on your door before it opened up. Simon stood in his full gear. Bulletproof vest, helmet, boots. Everything that told the world that he was a soldier. As much as you wanted to admire it, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, your gaze focused on your twiddling thumbs.

“Hey, you alright?” He came closer, kneeling in front of you to see your face better. Having you be nervous was making him nervous. What could possibly have you, the greatest assassin in the world, rattled?

In response, you shook your head. “I never feared death because I never had a life. It’s different now.”

“Oh. . . Hex. . .” He called out, his gloved hand caressing your cheek. For the first time, you leaned into his gentle touch. It nearly had his heart explode for you.

“Sorry. This won’t be a problem once I’m down there and I find my groove. I’ll be okay.” You reassured him and yourself. Giving yourself a pep-talk was new too. 

Just for a moment, Simon wanted to share this short time with you. To be the one to calm your nerves. He lifted his mark partially up, kissing you deeply to break your anxious thoughts. When his kiss finally registered in your brain, you couldn’t help but kiss him back like it was the last kiss you would ever share with him. If things went wrong, it may very well be. 

When he pulled away, his eyes were sharp. Confident. “You’ll be perfect. I know you will.”

Your chest stung painfully at his words of encouragement. Focusing on what could go wrong wasn’t helping you believe in yourself. All you needed to believe in was Ghost. With a resolute nod, you accept his support. “Yeah. I’ll be perfect. Thank you.”

His heart swelled at your quick recovery. If he could, he would follow you all the way through the catacombs and back. 

Simon gave you one last kiss before pulling down his mask again, already missing the feeling of your lips pressed against his. You felt that absence as well, hating and loving that you could now never imagine a life without his kisses. That just made you more determined to finish the job with grace just how you’ve always done. 

~

In the dead of night, Ghost quietly peeled back a manhole cover, revealing nothing but sewer at the bottom. Gaz raised a brow at the reveal, expecting to see bones on bones already. You double checked the map to make sure this was the correct entry point. Unfortunately, it was.

One by one, you climbed down to the sewers, careful not to land in the waters. Ghost spoke into his earpiece. “Entry successful. Can you read us?”

“Crystal clear, Lt. Be careful down there. Who knows just how many of Makarov’s men are there.” Price stressed, carefully watching the monitor from the safety of the hotel bedroom. Soap was tasked with coordinating a mass arrest and seize of weapons once Makarov was confirmed dead. He was on the phone coordinating the plan while Price focused on his team under Paris. 

Carefully, you made your way through the sewers, following the same path as the targets from earlier. The walk already felt long as it was dark, cold, and quiet save the sound of water dripping every so often. No chit chat. No small talk. All focus.

Eventually, you all came across a dead end. Gaz and Ghost began to feel the wall, trying to determine if there was a secret they were missing. You checked the map to confirm your positions. Just as Gaz swiped his hands over the left side of the wall, he felt something out of place. A piece of brick that jutted out just slightly compared to the others. When he pressed down on it, the wall popped open, waiting to be opened like a door. Gaz relayed the information to his captain while you marked it on the map. On Price’s end, he marked a similar map, wanting to match yours with each new discovery. 

Beyond the wall was nothing but pitch black darkness. There was no light for what seemed like miles. When you all turned on your flashlights, you were met with the remains of people from floor to ceiling. Bones dating back hundreds of years surround you. It was eerie. It was somehow a little worse than being surrounded by freshly dead bodies. Perhaps it was the more profound sense of death that made the endless halls feel grim. 

Ghost couldn’t help but feel a bit creeped out as well. Skulls were his signature icon, wearing one right on his face. Yet here, it didn’t feel right to wear his mask so blatantly. It was like all of his kills were haunting him now through the bones of thousands. 

Gaz let out a shuddering breath, trying to get himself under control. It wasn’t a pretty sight, being down there. He wondered how the hell tourists felt so excited to visit this place voluntarily. 

For you, it all just felt like a bad omen. 

“Let’s go. We don’t want to linger for too long.” You announced, trying to shake the heebie jeebies off your shoulders. The others followed closely, listening for human life when their flashlights didn’t reach far enough into the depths. 

After walking for a few miles, you finally approached the anticipated fork in the path. It was time to go your separate ways for now. As you stared down your path, you took off your jacket along with your tracker. Ghost’s eyes narrowed, a fire already erupting in his chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The stagnant air was cold, already giving you goosebumps beneath your long-sleeved shirt. “They may search me if we need to go with Plan B. As soon as they find the tracking device, radio, and earpiece, they’ll kill me. Or capture me for interrogation. Either way, that’s not ideal.”

“How are we supposed to know where you are then? How are we supposed to communicate?” Gaz question, growing worried about your sudden decision as well. 

You threw your jacket to Kyle, him catching it with his fast reflexes. Ghost clenched his jaw tight, almost cracking teeth. He didn’t like this one bit. But, if this is how you perfected your craft, he had no choice but to accept it.

From your pocket, you took out a small bobby pin that matched the color of your hair. You pressed the button on the end, causing it to start connecting to the 141’s earpieces. A new dot popped up on the monitor that Price still watched as well. Through the bobby pin, you spoke softly, your voice coming through their ears. “This is a new piece me and Kate have been working on for a while. It’s more discreet. This will be hidden in my hair and less likely to get spotted even with a search. Any complaints?”

“Hear you loud and clear, Hex. Good thinking, bringing a discreet backup. I’ll have to ask Kate to get me one of those.” Price praised, lightening the mood. Ghost still had complaints, but he kept them to himself for now. There was something heavier weighing him down.

Simon didn’t want to split up. He thought that he would have no problem with it back in the hotel room when he was comforting you. Right at the moment, however, he didn’t want you to go. Especially without your jacket. 

Before you could go off on your own, he pulled you in for a tight hug, not caring if Garrick saw. Kyle, being pretty intelligent about these things, pretended that he didn’t see anything and turned around. Simon would have to treat him to a drink later. 

“Be careful, kitten.” He squeezed you tight, the hug almost crushing your lungs. In response, you wrapped your arms around him too. Well, as much as you could with all that gear on him.

Reluctantly, he let you go, allowing you to look up at him once more before turning to disappear into the darkness. When Simon turned to go on their designated path, he heard a familiar voice snicker in his ear.

Soap was having a little laugh. “Kitten?”

“Can it before I decide to add a new set of bones down here.” He threatened, something that even you heard from down your skull-decorated corridor. 

In the cover of darkness and a faint flashlight, you made your way down the catacombs. At this point, you were completely relying on your map and instincts. The halls never seemed to end. It was so difficult to determine how much further you needed to go as well. Taking a deep breath every step, you moved forward. 

Suddenly, there was a yellow light in the distance. One that casted haunting shadows on the walls. There were voices too. Voices engaged in casual conversation like it was a regular Tuesday night at work. This was it. You were finally close to finding the main center of this operation. 

Hiding in the shadows, you waited for the men to pass before going down the path behind them. More light illuminated the way, ensuring that even Makarov’s men could come back safely. The confidence Makarov had in this secret was amazing. Few guards, a few too many lights, and footsteps standing out on the dirt floor. It didn’t take long for you to figure out the guards’ path pattern either.

You lowered your voice to a whisper, the bobby pin coming in clutch. “Found their hub. Preparing to infiltrate now.”

“Copy that. Ghost and Gaz are in position as well. Keep us updated, Hex.” Price answered back, carefully watching your new dot enter the heart of the operation. Hopefully, if things went well, he was planning on trying to convince to stay with the team as well. You’ve been a good influence on the group. You’ve challenged them to think outside the box, take the time to think about unexpected possibilities, and to rely on the psychological aspects. 

John couldn’t remember the last time they were so close to catching Makarov since his escape from prison. It felt like they’ve been chasing after him for forever. The fact that you were able to get a step ahead of him, something the 141 has failed to do until now, meant a lot. The fact that you were willing to put yourself so close to danger spoke volumes about your character too. 

The team could really use someone like you.

For now, Price would table that conversation for later. He needed you to come back safe first. 

Sneaking around the operation was quite easy for you. The guards were pretty lax in terms of security. With how narrow the catacombs were and how many boxes of weapons they had, you were able to get pretty perfect cover. On your map, you marked down where you were as well as the amount of weapons were down with you. You relayed the information to Price and Soap, them also take note of it on their side.

Everything was going smoothly. Except, there was no sign of Makarov anywhere. Not even a mention of his name from his men. You had a bit more area to explore, but that seemed like a waste of time. There was no evidence in knowing if Makarov would come personally within the next hour or the next week. You were genuinly hoping that it wouldn’t have to come down to this. “No sign of Makarov. No evidence of future arrival. Plan B.”

From Ghost’s position, he and Gaz looked to each other. It looked like they were going to be down there longer than planned. They did have the option to leave and come back later when Makarov does finally arrive, but they would never do that to you. Not after all that you’ve done for them. They were going to stay down here with you for as long as it will take. Ghost confidently spoke into his earpiece. “We’ll be here.”

“Plan B is a go.” Price confirmed, his muscles tensing up more than they were before. Everyone was feeling more tense. They were nervous for you.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was going to happen. Then, you emerged from the shadows, hands up in surrender. It took a whistle to get someone to notice you. Once someone did, everyone was pointing their guns at you. Questions were yelled out to you in different languages you couldn’t understand. It wasn’t until someone big and burly came over and spoke to you in English that things could get a move on.

“You! Who are you?! How did you come down here?” He growled, his finger hovering over the trigger of his pistol. 

Calmly, you explained yourself, careful not to make any sudden movements. “I’m an assassin. I wish to speak to Makarov for employment.”

“And you infultrate our operation to do so? How do I even know that you aren’t lying to me? Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now and save everyone the trouble.” He argued, his muscles aching to fill you with bullets. Something about you didn’t seem right to him. However, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t impressed that you had found their operation.

“I consent to a search if it will make you feel better. All I have is a knife in my boot and a twin pistols on my hips in terms of weapons. Take them. I figured that sneaking in like this would catch attention. I’m pretty good at my job. I can be a very valuable asset.” You promised, hands still in the air, not even flinching to defend yourself. 

The men looked between each other, silently trying to decide what to do with you. Their boss gestured to your body, prompting a few men to take your weapons off your person. Paranoia of more was quelled thanks to you wearing tight clothes. “She’s clear.”

“Anyone follow you down?” The boss asked, his tone becoming more relaxed. 

You shook your head and chuckled a little. “I wouldn’t be a very good assassin if there was. Search me for communication tools.”

They were buying your performance, not even realizing that they were taking orders from you like dogs. The 141 listened carefully through your bobby pin, fists clenched as they tried to keep it together. They couldn’t help it. They were protective of you now. 

Ghost heard the shuffle of clothing, imagining how those men have their dirty fucking hands on you for a thorough search. He wanted to storm right through the catacombs to you like a demon from hell to cut their hands off. Doing so would compromise the mission, but it would probably feel worth it. He had to bite his cheek when he heard you hiss.

Someone got a little too handsy with their search, your tone biting as if you really will bite. “Hey! Watch your fucking hands!”

“Just being thorough, girl. Follow me.” The leader finally said, his men ushering you along right behind him. Price and Soap carefully tracked your position, making sure that their map would be able to lead them right to you when the time came as you were unable to update yours. 

You were led to a more open corridor that was divided into sections almost like rooms. In one of them was a small table, two chairs, and a small battery lantern, much like a makeshift interrogation room. You were guided to have a seat, to which you complied. Across from you sat the one in charge around here while a couple of men with rifles manned the exit. The rest dispersed, business as usual. 

“So, you’re telling me that you want to help Makarov. Why?” He questioned carefully, his eyes scanning you for any kind of slip up. Any indication that you weren’t who you said you were. 

You leaned back in your chair casually, arms across your chest. “I’m only interested in going through an interview with Makarov himself.”

He have a mocking laugh, not knowing that he was eating right out of your palm already. “What makes you think he’s gonna come all the way here just to interview you? What do you think this is? A cooperate job? Why do you think you are so special?”

Smirking, you shrugged your shoulders. “I found and broke into this operation, didn’t I? You may have the rest of the world fooled, but if I can waltz right through your skeleton entrance, it won’t be long until your enemies do. You guys need help. I can provide that.”

He raised a brown and stroked his chin in thought, his brain mulling your words over. You had a point. By the time they noticed you, you were already right in the middle of their big secret. There was obviously a loose end somewhere. Makarov wouldn’t be happy with that. Perhaps they could use the support of a skilled assassin.

“What’s your name, girl?” He asked, interest piqued. 

“Don’t have one. Wouldn’t be a good assassin if I did.” You lied effortlessly like it really was the truth. 

A few seconds passed before he finally took the bait. If anything, Makarov would kill you instantly the moment he suspects something wrong. The ghost weapon parts were going to need a final approval too before being shipped out. 

With a heavy sigh, he caved. “Alright, girlie. I’ll leave this business you have with Makarov. You have to stay here, though. Unless told otherwise, you will not leave this room.”

You were left alone in the open room, obeying the order for the sake of the mission. You could hear some sighs of relief from the bobby pin close to your ear hidden within your hair. First part was over. However, that didn’t mean that the hardest part was done with. Things were only going to get more tense from here on out.

You spend hours sitting and doing nothing. You couldn’t even engage in any conversation with the 141. If you weren’t going to die from a bullet, you were going to die from boredom. When the boss of the catacombs operation came back, you nearly sighed in relief. “Makarov will be here within the next twenty-four hours or so. Until then, you are confined here. Good luck, girl.”

After that brief interaction, he left once again, leaving you to wait out even more. No food. No water. Little light. Nothing to do but wait.

The same went for the 141. At least they had each other in closer proximity, though. You, on the other hand, had no one by your immediate side. Hopefully, this would be the last time you would have to be alone like this. 

~

There was no telling if it was still night or day. There was no telling as to how much time has actually passed. Ghost and Gaz had been quite on their end, cutting of communication briefly to avoid you or them being discovered. Soap and Price were silent too, trying to work out final steps on their end. After a certain period of time, you truly felt isolated. This wasn’t like being alone in your cabin. There, you had the sounds of nature surrounding you, books to read, things to do. You could see sunlight and moonlight from your windows. 

Here, there was nothing but bones, dirt, and the tiny light of the lantern. Even the men guarding you decided to turn in for some rest, situating themselves further away from you, but still in close enough range to notice an escape attempt.

A chill ran through you, making you rub your arms with your hands. You were beginning to get tired and hungry. Just as you tried to slip into a cat nap to pass the time, a low voice woke you back up. Hearing it felt like you were being brought back to the land of the living. “Hey, kitten. How are you holding up?”

You didn’t say anything back for a moment, listening for eavesdroppers. Your voice dropped to a whisper so faint that it was like a spirit speaking. “Fine. You sure you want to keep using that nickname right now?”

“I had Price patch us for a private line for a moment. Gaz is sweeping the areas around us. It’s just you and me.” Ghost reassured, grateful to hear your voice like this. He didn’t like you being isolated the way you were. At the very least, he hoped that his voice would provide you with enough company to tie you over for several more hours. 

Your heart felt lighter already just hearing his voice through the pin. Quietly, you go up from the chair to lay on the floor, not caring if you were getting dirt all over yourself. You just needed to stretch your back and legs out. Try to relax as best as you could. “What time is it out there?”

“Nearly noon. It doesn’t feel like it.” He groaned, hardly believing that there was sunlight somewhere himself. It was way too damn dark under Paris.

“Tell me about it. I can’t tell if only a couple minutes have passed or a couple hours. Time seems to stand still down here. The skeletons aren’t helping.” You half-joked, causing Ghost to actually chuckle. The dark sense of humor that you were demonstrating now made him miss you more than he already did. 

A moment of comfortable silence passed between the two of you, both of you feeling more secure in the dark now that you have heard each other’s voices. Yet, an unsettling feeling began to take over your stomach, tying it in knots. “Ghost?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything goes wrong, you’re prepared to say goodbye to me, right?” You shakily breathed out.

The nature of your whisper still nearly knocked the wind right out of him. The way you said it, like it was an absolute, an unavoidable inevitable, scared him. Genuinely. “I won’t let something like that happen. I’m not gonna lose you.”

Suddenly, you bolted up from the floor, ears trained on a sound you heard further down the catacombs. You almost thought that it was just the illusion of darkness getting to you until you heard it again. Faint chatter from afar. A familiar voice that you have only heard through tv speakers. 

“Y/n.” You confessed your real name to him with a heavy heart. 

Simon almost didn’t register it. His heart nearly stopped beating. “What?”

“Y/n. My name is Y/n.” 

Before he could say anything, let alone find the words to say, he heard the chattering too from your end. The voice was undeniable. Quickly, he radioed Price to reestablish the communication lines again. “Captain. It’s Makarov. He’s arrived early.”

You returned to your chair, dusting yourself off just before the man of the hour entered your line of sight. With a sinister smile, he entered your room and took a seat across from you. “It’s not every day that I have someone demand to go through an interview with me. In fact, I never held a formal interview before. Nor took demands from anyone. This better be worth my time.”

“Trust me, Makarov. The information and help I have for you is gonna be worth both of our time. I would be lying if I said that their was something out of this for me too.” You faked a gracious smile, something you weren’t sure was selling it enough.

Thankfully, you had Makarov’s attention. For now. 

“I’m listening.”

-

Taglist:

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[ryukatters]

Ok so imagine:

Gojo is pretty emotionally disconnected from most, refuses to let himself get attached most of the time after everything thats happened to him.

And then you show up

He doesn’t want to slip up. He doesnt want to form another bond like that. But its like he can’t stop it. Maybe you just remind him of what he’s lost, maybe it’s the way you see him as him rather than “the strongest,” an annoyance, or something shallow. It happens slow, so slow he barely even picks it up, but the feelings bloom. You just enrapture him. And he remembers everything that happened last time he got so close to another person, and he’s terrified to accept it but terrified to turn it away and loose the last chance he might have at a relationship like that.

so he takes it, tries to claim you in every sense of the word. You’re weaker than him, possibly even an underling, so there’s definitely a power dynamic that makes it easier for him to keep control. Maybe he tries to keep you hidden, but maybe he likes to drag you around like a dog, only loaning you off to somebody else when it gets too dangerous. Either way, it’s not like you can run because he’d definitely find you. He is absolutely NOT going to lose something so important to him, not again. He’d do whatever it takes, even if it meant making himself look like the bad guy in your eyes because you understand him so well, so he’s sure he can turn your relationship back to the positive side with just a little explanation and coercion

(idk if this may be a bit ooc but… its been rotting in my brain ty for letting me dump it here)

trigger warnings/content: yandere, stalking, power dynamics, obsession, Gojo is a few years older than reader, no smut, just word vomit

It starts off small. You’re a budding sorcerer, a few years Gojo’s junior, and also a new teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, trying to adjust to your new job. Gojo takes it upon himself to mentor you. You don’t think anything of it, other than the fact that it’s a little intimidating to have the strongest sorcerer of the era to serve as your guide.

You’re strong, he can see. You’re hardened by a few rough years of working in the field, but even despite barely meeting you, your facade cracks and he can see the goodness underneath.

Gojo’s impenetrable most days. To a lot of people, he might be a loud, annoying nuisance, but to you, you see a broken man who tries to keep everyone at arm’s length at the expense of his pride and reputation as a formidable sorcerer.

Gojo’s extremely intelligent, and uses it to play his cards wisely. It took him years to build a persona that’ll prevent outsiders from ever looking in. You manage to unravel him day by day, and it almost frustrates him.

Almost.

Until he realizes there’s no point in fighting the inevitable— he’ll have to let you in eventually.

There’s a fear in Gojo’s eyes when he sees you. It’s like all tomorrows appear in a blink. Your entire essence, so good, so innocent about the cruelty of the world. It reminds him of innocence he once had in his youth. Something about you is so magnetizing, and no matter how much Gojo wants to fight it, he can’t help but be pulled in.

He wants you. And he wants you to want him. Need him. Desire him carnally in the way he does you.

Slowly, he lets you see parts of him that no one else has ever seen. His love is so overwhelming, and because it’s Satoru— with his sweet words and seemingly good intentions— he manages to have you fall for him too. And when he finally, officially has you (because let’s face it, he decided you were his long before that point), he manages to keep you under lock and key.

For your safety, he reasons.

After all— is he really the strongest if he doesn’t do what he can to keep you safe?

The rose colored glasses seem to wear off over time, and you start to see Gojo for the monster he really is.

It takes a few months of garnering courage to even attempt to begin planning your escape from him. You do it slowly, but carefully, calculating every step to make sure you don’t leave a trail behind.

You get one of the auxiliary managers to buy you a back up phone, set up a whole new bank account overseas, and eventually *secretly* book a ticket to a whole different country— one far from the grasp of Satoru Gojo.

Fate, by some miracle, seems to be on your side. Yaga calls both of you in for an emergency meeting. Gojo is being sent away on a week long mission abroad to snuff out a new curse user group that has connections to one here in Japan. You— a local mission to check out disappearances in a nearby town.

You can feel the hostility radiating from the man standing next to you. You dare to take a peek, and you see nothing but an airy smile. “Yaga, I’ll take care of their mission. It should be quick for me—“

“No, Satoru. They haven’t been on a mission in months, thanks to you being greedy and taking on everything. Being a good mentor means letting them take calculated risks.”

With that, both of you sign off on paperwork and begin to prepare for your respective missions. The atmosphere is tense in Gojo’s home— the same one he made you move into just a few months prior (“So you don’t have to worry about commuting so far. ‘Sides, there’s a lot of creeps lurking around out there, and I’m not talking about curses.”)

Gojo refuses to leave you until he makes sure that you’ll be safe. Borderline threatens Ijichi to keep a close eye on you, and the poor man is nothing short of pissing his pants.

He pulls you aside before Ijichi starts preparing the veil. One hand rests on your waist, squeezing almost a little bit too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go, while the other tilts your chin up so you can meet his gaze.

He has his blindfold on, but you know all of his attention is on you. “I know you won’t have service inside the veil, but the second it gets lifted you’re going to call me.”

You nod, and listen like the good girl he likes you to be. With that, he gives you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves.

You manage to locate the missing victims and exorcise the curse in less than 48 hours. You do as you’re told and call Gojo. He picks up after the first ring, and you think you can hear a shuddered sigh of relief on the other line upon hearing your voice. He tells you he has to go, only because duty calls, and that he’ll talk to you soon. Be good. Update him. Don’t leave without permission.

As usual, you appease him.

You make it back home in record time, tell Ijichi to wait outside because you need him to take you somewhere.

You leave your phone behind— the one that Gojo has the location of— and shut the door with nothing but a small suitcase in tow.

Ijichi stammers, you want to go where? Alone? Does Gojo know about this?

You tell him there’s no time for questions and to start driving.

He drops you off at Narita, in the international terminal. He’s visibly sweating, no doubt fearing for both his life and yours once a certain white haired sorcerer gets back from his mission. You give him an easy smile and thank him, and he speeds off, probably to go into hiding as well.

Your hands are shaky as you hand the boarding pass to the flight crew, and the tremors don’t stop even as you take a seat inside the plane. Even when you arrive at your destination, lay down in your bed in what’s going to be your temporary home for who knows how long, does your anxiety fail to cease.

Gojo knows something is off. He’s blown up your phone with endless calls and texts, called Ijichi countless times, and even asked Yaga about your whereabouts. Nothing. Your radio silence confirms his intuition. He finishes up his mission quickly, before the one week allotment is up. The first thing he does when he steps foot in Japan is immediately teleport back home.

He’s met with silence, and hardly any trace of your cursed energy residuals to be seen. You’ve been gone for a few days, he deduces.

Anxiety starts to prickle the back of his neck, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this much concern for anyone. Are you hurt? He tries calling you again, until he hears it. The slight buzzing sound emanating from your shared bedroom.

He picks up the device and sees the log of notifications. You really were gone.

Satoru looks through your phone— messages, emails, camera roll, bank statements— anything, anything to give him a hint as to what you were up to. Nothing. That’s okay, onto the next plan, which is honestly what he should’ve done first.

Being the strongest sorcerer had its perks, but none of them were greater than his privilege to investigate into people’s background history.

You know deep down there really was no escape from Satoru Gojo. That no matter the distance, he’d find a way back to you.

So when you see Gojo sitting on your bed in your hotel room, a part of you isn’t that surprised. The rest of you is paralyzed with anxiety of what comes next. You want to run, but you can’t. Your eyes begin to shift towards the still open door, trying to assess your options, but you’re hardly given a chance to finish your thought before Gojo is in front of you, closing the door. Effectively shut away from the outside world.

He’s not wearing his blindfold, you noticed. Which means he’s probably been tracking the flow of your cursed energy the moment you stepped foot into the lobby.

His stormy gaze meets yours, and he smiles. Your stomach drops.

“So…” he starts, voice sinfully low, “thought you could get away, hm?” He’s backed you up against the door, his strong frame pressed against yours.

Words bubble up your throat but die as they reach the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to set him off. You’ve only been given small glimpses into Gojo’s more sadistic, domineering side, which he does on purpose to serve as warning. You’re not like anyone else, so I’ll be good to you. In return, you must be good for me.

You start to tremble, legs beginning to fail you— but Satoru’s there to hold you steady. He uses one hand to grip your face, squishing both of your cheeks until your lips are pursed. He watches with deep adoration and fascination at how pliant the flesh is between his fingers. It’s like you were made for him.

“I’m willing to forget that you did this,” he hums, placing a quick peck to the tip of your nose before he presses his forehead against yours. “If you promise to get in that bed with me until I’ve decided you’re forgiven.”

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost, recommend, or translate my writing on TikTok or Twitter.

[comickergirl]

I thought it would be kinda cool to try and make a tier list with my own drawings and, in hindsight, that was maybe too ambitious, given I had more manga titles this year and less free time for fanart, but regardless, here we are! Gonna hide additional thoughts on some of the books under a read-more for the terribly curious. XD

Going in order from top to bottom, left to right:

Snow White with the Red Hair: ...No. There is too much to say. I'll need to return to this some other time. XD (Actually I'm gonna skip the other 2023 titles on the tier list as well)

King in Limbo: LOVED this one. Possibly one of my favorite that I read this year. (Am I biased because it takes place in San Francisco? MAYBE SO.) Really great sci-fi series with a crime/murder mystery element, and Rune and Adam make for a great mismatched 'buddy comedy' duo. Also... *cough* Am I excited for the Your Forma anime? Yes. Do I think King in Limbo did the same plot but better and first? Also yes. *cough*

QQ Sweeper/ Queen's Quality: Look this title has everything, okay? Action, romance, comedy, horrifying nightmare monsters, tips on window cleaning, what more could you want, really?

Wolf's Daughter: A Werewolf's Tale: THANK YOU SEVEN SEAS FOR LICENSING THIS FOR PRINT THIS YEAR!

Library Wars: Admittedly I'd tried this one a handful of times before and struggled to get into it (also I don't care for the anime) BUT. I told myself to stick with it and lo and behold, loved it. Such a charming cast of characters.

Immortal Rain: I recall encountering this in either middle school or high school and loving the art, but I don't think I read past volume one. Really enjoyed reading the whole series through.

Wolf and Revolver: How can an unlicensed title rank this high, you ask??? V I B E S

Rose of Versailles: Listen I felt genuine anxiety over the fate of Marie Antoinette and if that isn't the mark of a skilled storyteller right there, I don't know what is.

Gold Kingdom and Water Kingdom: IT'S SO CUTE AND CHARMING and way funnier than I thought it would be??? Also reminded me of The Thief and the Cobbler a fair bit, in terms of tone and art.

From Far Away: Feel like this had a bit of a slow start but the main draw, in my opinion, is Noriko. She’s such a sweet, determined heroine.

Children of the Whales: I actually have some nitpicks with this one, story-wise, BUT. It’s so impressive from an artistic standpoint and unique in its world building that I just gotta give it to ‘em, you know?

The Hachioji Specialty: Tengu’s Love: How can a manga with only two volumes out rank this high, you ask? IT'S ADORABLE. XD In all seriousness, I love that it’s a ‘fish out of water’ story that doesn’t infantilize the woman so that the guy can save her with his worldly ways. Refreshing! And I say again: so. Heckin’. CUTE.

The rest of the titles all tend to fall in the same sort of, ‘I liked this!’ area for me, except fooooor….

Fushigi Yuugi: Listen LISTEN, it ranks real low and I’ve got complaints about the plot and pacing BUT. I’m glad I read it and would like to someday dive into the sequels because it is clearly a genre-defining staple. Maybe I’d like the anime better?? (I liked the first volume of the latest spin-off! XD)

SECRET BONUS ROUND! Most of these had a physical edition of their first volume drop at the tail end of the year and as such, felt a bit too last minute to draw, but they generally all fall in the ‘solidly entertaining’ tier:

Stomp, Kick, Love Blade Girl Love, That’s an Understatement Agents of the Four Seasons* In Another World, My Sister Stole my Name*

(*These came out less recently but I forgot to write them down! XD)

SECRET BONUS ROUND: 2023 EDITION! These didn’t make it onto my illustrated list that year but I *have* read ‘em:

Red River (Note: If I had to pick a soap-opera-esque, sprawling, vaguely historical isekai fantasy, I prefer this to Fushigi Yuugi) Prince Freya

SECRET BONUS ROUND: SHONEN/SEINEN EDITION! Nozaki Kun Your Forma Dahlia My Dear Detective Noragami Tropic of the Sea Opus Seraphim The Concierge at Hokkyoku Department Store The Golden Sheep

And there we go! :D

[deleteddewewted]

DILF! Shinsho Headcanons

Dilf! Shinso x Fem! Reader ( @lookhereiam drew dilf! Shinso a long time ago during a brain rotting session and I’m finally being it back. Here’s the amazing art!!!)

A/n: This headcanon is going to be more of a loe dump for the Dilf! Shinso series I've been working on.

MDNI

W: Fluff, Angst, Shinsho has two kids, Shinso became a hero and retired after a near-death experience and decided to work in marketing afterward so his kids wouldn't be left without a parent, His ex-wife is a bitch.

He became a dad pretty early on in his hero career. He doesn't regret a thing. He loves kids, they're his world. So when he had to change some of his work routines he was happy to do so he could spend more time with his kids.

He and his ex wife don't have an active co-parent relationship. She's absent and refuses to see their kids. Shinso and his children don't care anymore if she's in their lives.

After a near death experience he realized that if he was incapacitated or killed no one would be able to take care of his kids. He felt bad enough the first few times he got badly injured and asked his friends for help, Aizawa always telling him that he needed to be more careful with himself, but this out everything into perspective for him.

He dreamed of being a hero and doing something that would help people see that he was worth being one but he also dreamed of being there for his kids and getting to experience life with them.

He retires from hero work and was then moved to the marketing department of the hero company he was working for.

He loves that he now has time to enjoy watching his kids grow. His daughter and son get to have him every morning, evening, and weekends. He can’t wait to see what kinds of people his kids will become.

After his divorce he hasn’t put too much mind into dating. His focus is his kids and as he’s started to lose interest in keeping up with his heroic counterparts he’s started gaining weight over the years. He finds himself self conscious about his weight gain.

Wears glasses. He’s on his computer all the time so his eyesight has gone downhill.

But he time his kids are heading off to college he’s in his late to early 40’s.

He’s refused to date Ben after his kids kept insisting the would be happy for him if he found someone.

He doesn’t see a need to be with someone or even start dating again after so long. He’s lived his life and raised his children. He can’t wait to see what they would do once they’re out of college.

Yet, when he meets a new colleague of his he can’t seem to take his eyes off of them.

You’re gorgeous. There’s no other way to describe you.

You carry yourself with power and grace it’s majestic to see.

He’s shy and nervous around you. He’s never able to make eye contact with you especially when you lean closer to him. He hopes he’s not sweating too much.

Doesn’t pick up subtle flirting because he’s thinking that maybe he’s just being a weird old man by thinking that you’re flirting with him.

Feels like he’s going to pass away when you ask him to explain what he’s doing work wise.

When you finally convinced him to have lunch with you, he finds out that you’ve been engaged but never married. He hates that the information made no balls because it feels unfair to you.

He finally build sup the courage after working with you for months now, to ask you to eat at his home.

He offers to cook and when you accept he’s thrilled but once you leave he realizes he made a mistake because he doesn’t actually know how to cook.

[littlestarbigsky]

*deep breath, steps up onto dead dad soapbox*

okay so i lost my dad unexpectedly when i was 18. i was a freshman in college and my little brother was a freshman in high school (darry/soda age gap sibs :p ) and i *literally* can not express just how different our experience was with it. soooo it’s time to project !! this turned into a whole thinkpiece i really didn’t expect to write this much lol

grieving curtis brothers in school under the cut ;)

for argument’s sake, i’m just gonna go with darry took a gap year after hs and was a freshman when his parents died. they died right around his 20th birthday, and given the timing of it he was most likely still on winter break. pony would have been a freshman and soda would have been a junior and hadn’t dropped out yet (this isn’t meant to be divisive or questioning the canon timing i’m just throwing this in to establish the timeline i’m going with here).

oh darry,, bro is not having a good time

going through a loss in college is such a lonely experience. darry was sort of established with some people at school and he definitely had friends but at the end of the day, most east side type families couldn’t afford to send their kids to college so most of his friends don’t really know his family or much about his background. the social conditioning he went through with paul and co. was enough to get him into crowds just like the kids from the west side instead of scholarship kids, but once a greaser, always a greaser.

darry went through a lot of heartache leaving school. obviously he would do it again in a heartbeat, his brothers meant more to him than anything in the world. the thing is, he didn’t fully grasp everything he was giving up when he got custody. any hope of he had of going to college on an athletic scholarship or with the safety net of his parents was gone. he was the sole provider for two teenagers. and he just had to learn to be okay with that, whether or not he regretted giving up on college or not.

he tries to go to his dad’s boss to see if he can take over his position since it was open and they were family friends, but it’s a tenure position and the best he can do is offer darry a job with the roofing division of the company.

he can hardly look soda in the eye when he asks him to come along to help him pack up his dorm room. he’d left most of his things there, thinking it would be waiting for him for another semester. he calls his building and asks to get in before everyone comes back so he doesn’t have to see anyone and tell them about what happened. he leaves a note for his roommate explaining that he dropped out for ‘personal reasons.’ soda pretends not to notice the tears falling down darry’s cheeks while they drive back home.

he doesn’t really have anyone but the gang. his friends from high school are out of the picture, and his friends from college wouldn’t understand, at least not enough to really be of any help. he doesn’t really get to lean on his brothers because he’s too busy trying to keep them together. he just… really doesn’t get the support that he needs.

as for the little bros..

pony and soda are both out of school for a week after the accident, a few times one of them said they wanted to go to school to get out of the house but tbh darry wouldn’t let them out of his sight or get in a vehicle if it wasn’t with him. but when they finally do get back, their teachers don’t really give them much of a break aside from giving their condolences. i like to think some of their teachers let soda visit pony in some of his classes or turned a blind eye when one of them would fall asleep in class, but beyond that, they don’t get much leeway workload-wise.

the social transition is also pretty intense. i think this was much more of a ponyboy problem bc soda keeps his circle pretty tight, but it’s so easy to lose friends when something like that happens because people don’t know what to say to you and eventually just stop reaching out. all of a sudden, his only identification in school is his dead parents, and shockingly, he doesn’t want to talk about that. he wants to just carry on with his life bc he’s still a person despite what happened to them. quite honestly the only people who don’t treat pony and soda differently after the accident are the gang (and sandy prob but idk when they got together).

pony doesn’t have too hard of a time getting back into the swing of school and getting himself caught up, but he’s like a child genius anyways soo he’s fine. soda though, god bless this poor boy, the week that he missed is probably the reason he ended up dropping out :( he already had a hard enough time missing one day let alone a whole week, and he was so far behind in some of his classes that it felt like they were speaking a different language. the worst part is he tries SO hard, too. he asks his teachers for help but they don’t know how to get through to him, cut to darry trying so hard not to lose his damn mind at the kitchen table trying to get soda to understand his english homework.

[heartbeatlicense]

heeyy^x^

i really like ur writings🤭 and i’m happy bc finally someone writes male reader stories

anyway!! i would like to request a sae x gamer/streamer m!reader fic, where the reader is a big gamer and also a twitch streamer, how did sae get along with that, how does sae take it when the reader doesn't pay attention to him because he's playing / chatting with his friends on discord🫣 sorry if i write something wrong english is not my first language😔 had a good day!!

sae itoshi x male!streamer!reader

tysm anon! i’m glad you enjoy my stuff! i also hope you enjoy this and that it’s to your satisfaction

tags: male reader, established relationship, jealous and overthinking sae, surprise! sae also sucks ass at communicating, also lowkey self-indulgent since i secretly dream of being a streamer, doing a different format than what i typically do

sae knows he’s being hypocritical but he simply can’t help it.

he saw the way you would hole yourself up in your office, streaming for several hours straight almost every day. sometimes you wouldn’t even get out to take a break.

you could’ve given yourself a much more laidback schedule thanks to sae’s success and wealth. instead you chose not to rely on him financially and prioritized your self-independence and stability. the only thing you really accepted from him career-wise was the massive clout boost that came with being his boyfriend. not to mention, you just loved the career path you chose, even if it did make you stressed sometimes. so you were more than fine with committing a lot of effort into it despite his insistence.

he understands and relates to how busy your lifestyle can get, yet he can’t help but feel a little neglected when he rarely sees you outside your office during the day and knows you don’t have much time free time to spend with him.

and perhaps he did feel jealous whenever he overheard you and your other streamer friends voice calling and playing games, laughing and cracking jokes with each other.

ugh he hated the idea that he could get jealous at all. he knows he should be more rational about this. he’s supposed to be the rational one! but he can’t help it. you’re his boyfriend! you should be spending your time with him. laughing and making jokes with him.

it’s gotten so bad that he even felt annoyed by your viewers fawning over you. he knew feeling a threatened by them was crazy because who the hell doesn’t know you’re sae itoshi’s boyfriend. anyone would be crazy to try to come in between that. plus he has plenty of his own simps going insane over him. so he of all people should be more than aware of what it’s like to be with someone who’s famous and very out there in the world. he should especially expect this when he’s dating such a good looking guy.

sae has rarely felt insecure about himself either. until his mind started spiraling and he manages to convince himself that he isn’t interesting enough to be with you compared to your gamer friends. he definitely doesn’t say anything to you about it since he doesn’t want you think he’s weak because of it. instead he lets those overcooked insecurities build up even more and more in his head until he starts believing them.

one day he noticed your office door slightly cracked open so he peeked his head in to see you streaming. which you then noticed from the corner of your eye.

“sae!” you spun your chair around to face him. you quickly took off your headphones, forgetting to mute the microphone, and held your arms out with a big smile. “come here baby!”

he was surprised and flustered from your enthusiastic response. how could he not be when he’s been living with those negative ideas about the relationship for a while that he’s gotten so used to them. he reluctantly walked over to you to which you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him bend down to your eye level.

“i’m so sorry i’ve been so busy lately,” you said before cupping his face and planting kisses on his cheeks. “i promise i’ll make it up to you.” his face softened as he felt his worries wash away thanks to your words and kisses.

“alright,” he nodded. everything’s going to be alright. he watched your screen from the corner of his eye as the live chat started going crazy, with a slight smirk on his face.

a.n: when i got this request, i was also working on a much bigger sae fic which should be coming out in a few days or so. it’s currently 2k+ words. so stay tuned and if anyone wants to be tagged when it’s posted, let me know!

i also don’t think i can post a fic without using read more. i always write so fucking much.

[rengerines]

i could never be normal about chiscara, like ik they are very unlikely lore wise but idgaf!!!

pre irminsul arc they’re two people who find love and warmth in such a cold environment. the fatui are a distinctly distant organization, and the harbingers are clearly not very close (eg. childe and arlechinno voicelines ab eachother). the only thing connecting each of them is the mutual goal of collecting the gnoses for the tsaritsa, but the way they all go about this is vastly different from each other, and this connection can be rather weak when compared to their personal goals, usually treated as a sort of after thought in a lot of the later archon quests (and clearly some of them js don’t gaf ab the tsaritsa *cough* scara defection).

so i really like the idea of chiscara connecting despite this, and also the thought that they have to sneak around about it too. obviously, they’re not exactly *good* for each other. they’re fatui harbingers, both with more than a few screws loose. but they’re still capable of caring for each other nonetheless.

considering their situation, and the two of them as people with their baggage and all that, i doubt they ever got past a weird sort of fwb-situationship-not-dating-but-probably-in-love relationship, but i still think they were somewhat aware of their mutual romantic feelings, they would js never label it.

post irminsul arc, i think about them two ways.

obviously in canon-verse, they’re doomed. childe is born and of teyvat, he’s not gonna be going against teyvat’s founding principles and remembering scara so easily. he’d need someone to tell him, either the traveler or scara, and both are unlikely to do so. the traveler would js not know to, and scara isn’t the type to seek childe out.

in this case i see scara silently yearning like crazy for a man who doesn’t even remember who he is. it’s interesting, as even when they were ‘together,’ scara was constantly telling himself how bad of an idea this was, and here he is now suffering the consequences. their love was real at some point, but scara is doomed to be the only one to remember it. it’ll eat him up from the inside out until he forces himself to move on. if childe decides to visit sumeru at some point, maybe for fun, maybe on business, they might talk, and it would all hurt that much more.

however, through some weird canon-divergence shenanigans, i can see post-irminsul chiscara, in a world where childe somehow remembers, building a proper relationship of sorts. they could never have a perfectly ‘normal’ relationship, childe’s still a fatui harbinger, but they could have some semblance of a cute domestic life when childe’s off work. i’m thinking rare mornings waking up together, and scara reluctantly introducing childe to sethos, only for them to get on so well and cause him both a headache and for his heart to swell. i see scara, childe and nahida sharing a meal together, nahida listening intently to childe talking about his family, and later nahida telling scara that she’s happy for him. they could one day visit childe’s family together, and scara would feel out of place but slowly adjust to all the many children around him. i think teucer would adore him, maybe even more than childe, which would drive him crazy. scara would hold it over his head constantly, and they’d bicker and kiss afterwards. the two of them could love each other properly, they’d get a second chance post-irminsul. all that has to happen is for childe to remember.

[goldcranes]

might just start screaming into the void here again like i’m 14! bc i cannot go back to twitter, i never seem to find anything interesting on bluesky and threads is (unsurprisingly) a complete cesspit.

anyway i had a baby four months ago, she is the best and most important thing in the entire world but she also hates to sleep with any kind of regularity so i’m not getting much done because i’m a) sleep-deprived and b) hopping up to check on her every two minutes when she does fall asleep, which isn’t conducive to starting and finishing tasks. also i knew becoming a mum would alter my brain chemistry but WOW i did not anticipate the anxiety that steals up over me every time i lie down in bed at night. like there’s probably not an axe-murderer about to break in through my door and the building probably isn’t about to collapse on our heads and i’m probably not going to get in a horrific accident tomorrow but boy if my body doesn’t react like it definitely all will happen. great way to relax enough to fall asleep, brain. 10/10 no notes.

writing-wise, i’ve ended up in a weird schrondinger’s agent situation where i technically still have one, but also she says she’s got too much responsibility to manage me alone now so i have to sell myself to another person within her agency so they can support with my representation. which in theory is great because i do have an agent still, but in practice sucks because i’ve now sent in three separate story beginnings (of like 10k words each) plus synopses and had them all politely but firmly turned down, so i’ve got to the point where i have lost all confidence in my writing and can’t tell what’s good and what’s not anymore and am starting that “what’s even the point” spiral.

on the other hand i think i have a really good ya fantasy idea based on an old concept revolving around evil dragonriders, poison and a revenge-bent 17 year old so i think i might just write that and to hell with it?? but also i wrote the first chapter and i think it sucks. so who knows.

i’m really hoping to get back to fic as well once i can carve out some time in the day around baby (she’s started going to bed at 7ish the last few days so that might be good, although she’s up every hour or so from 1am so usually i just have to go to bed pretty directly after she does). i’m going to start by going back to my lucius/hermione fic i think. i was having fun with that one and i made a pinterest board for the horrible pureblood girls i want her to tangle with so i’m feeling ✨inspired✨

[headfullof-ideas]

Introducing the second original dragon species in my crossover AU, the Forktail! (Name pending, but for now I can’t think of anything else. Though I’m not opposed to the name)

The Forktail is a relatively uncommon dragon, or a relatively isolated from human settlements dragon, depending on who you ask. Regardless, Forktail dragons are hard to find, and not just because they avoid most humans. Forktails have the ability to camouflage, much like their far larger and more common relatives, the Changewings. Unlike their larger cousins, Forktails don’t have the ability to spit acid. However, over years of evolution they’ve developed a small defense mechanism when their camouflage fails. A brief electrical surge can run across their skin, shocking anyone who is touching them. Unlike Skrills or Shockjaw dragons, Forktails don’t shoot lightning bolts, simply having the lightning surge. It’s effective nonetheless, very few people being happy after being zapped by a Forktail.

Forktail dragons, like their cousins the Changewings and another dragon of similar heritage, only come in a certain number of colors. Forktails come in a variety of blues, greens, and purples, though they can come in practically every shade and combination of the colors possible. Forktails also have a bioluminescent pattern that they flash as communication or as a mating display, though they only glow when the bioluminescence is needed. It’s hard for a dragon refuted for camouflage to hide when they have bioluminescent patterns glowing all the time, after all. Forktails have light grey eyes no matter the sex, and have very little outward differences to determine the gender of a dragon.

Forktails are hard to come across, and usually unnerving to many who happen upon one. Most dragons show a sentience that most other animals don’t have, on par with human empathy. Forktails, while dragons, are a little different. They’re known for being seemingly detached emotionally, though no less intelligent or sentient than all the other breeds of dragon. Rumor has it that there’s a little something else in their genetic heritage beyond the blood they share with Changewings, something that’s more prominent in another, more dangerous cousin. This isn’t to say that, intelligence and empathy wise, they’re lesser than other dragons. Forktails are still just as intelligent and capable of complex, human levels of thought, that other species of dragons have. They’re even known for forming intense bonds with dragons of their own species and others.

Behold, the dragon that Alpheus is traveling with, a Forktail! I had to include ARIA in some way, since she’s such a big part of his story, but I wasn’t sure how to bring her in for a while. For starters, the technology required to make an AI doesn’t exist here. But I didn’t want to make her a person here either, and Alpheus having a dragon that he rode didn’t feel right either. Eventually, I settled on a smaller dragon, with abilities that were similar to his submarine. Sooo, did I make an entirely new species of dragon just so Alpheus can have ARIA? No, not entirely. Forktails are also part of a further world building effort, something that becomes relevant and important further into the series we go. The emotional detachment is meant to resemble how ARIA is an AI in The Deep, but it also connects to the world building and lore that the species she’s a part of has.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

McGonagall pulls the handful of us 8th year students into her office after dinner. She pulls us aside and tells all eight of us that we’re outcasts. We don’t belong, we don’t fit.

It might not be what she actually says, but it is what I hear and, I always hear the truth.

But she pulls us aside and she says that we no longer fit in the dungeons or the towers high in the sky. She pulls us aside and she lies. And I know she lies because I’m the only returning Slytherin from my year. I could fit anywhere, my one single body fits anywhere. It’s slender, though tall, and I’ve lost so much weight, you could stick me into the cracks between the stones on the floor and I’d sleep better than most.

McGonagall, she pulls us aside and tells us that they’ve taken the old abandoned third floor corridor, on the right hand side of the building, and they’ve rebuilt it. They’ve taken the old, useless, unwanted piece of real estate and they’ve turned it into a temporary holding cell. They’ve filled it with beds, she said, and our very own common room and private bathrooms. But, since there is so few of us, the showers are co-ed and I wonder if she wants us to be fucking instead of studying.

Not that I’d touch any of the students surrounding me.

Because the eight of us, it’s me. And it’s Granger and it’s Longbottom. It’s Lovegood, it’s Dean Thomas and it’s Michael Corner. It’s Hannah Abbot and it’s Zacharias Smith.

It’s going to be all of us, stuffed into a small space, sharing showers and I’m almost certain someone is going to end up slobbing a knob in the showers and I can’t even begin to tell you how much it bothers me to know that it won’t be me.

If I have anything to do with it, it won’t be Granger either.

If I can’t fuck, then neither can she.

I’ve decided that I don’t care about my education. I’m exceptional at magic, I excel in all subjects. I don’t care about politics. I just care about taking that little bit of myself that she stole from me. I care about making her life as miserable as I am. Together, we belong in misery.

So, McGonagall takes us all and she leads us to the third floor corridor that used to be off limits and she opens the door to the right side and unveils something that reminds me of a cheap rendition of my family’s drawing room.

There’s a few couches, a chess set. There’s two tables meant for doing our homework. There’s a window that overlooks the Black Lake.

There’s a fireplace that is already cackling away with burning lumps of wood. Another tree lost to the world, a little less oxygen left for us to breathe.

McGonagall points to the door to the left of the fireplace and she tells us that there’s a there’s a room that way, and another room that way, to the right of the fireplace. Two rooms. Split amongst the eight of us. She tells us that each room connects to a shared lavatory.

This is quite simply the worst.

I’m stuck in another kind of hell. I’ll have to sleep with Longbottom, Thomas, Corner and Smith.

Except, McGonagall doesn’t specify if the girls are separated from the boys. She just tells us to choose wisely and to make the most of the situation, and then she hands us our schedules and sweeps out of the room, leaving all eight of us to stare at one another in horror.

Only, Zacharias Smith is eyeing Granger. He has taken his eyes and he’s running them over her round tits and her indulgent hips. He’s taking his eyes and he thinks he’s going to convince her to bunk with him and I laugh out loud when he opens his mouth, his eyes zoning in on Grangers tits.

They all look at me as if I’ve lost my mind. But Granger won’t look at me. She’s doing that thing again, that dismissive bit that makes me want to slam her against the wall. It makes me want to pull her hair and bite her cheek.

“Which side do you boys want?” She asks. She’s tilting her head and cocking her hip and I get the distinct feeling that every boy in here wants to fuck her raw. I have the feeling that even the girls find her sexy but secretly, they probably hate her.

Of course, I don’t want to fuck her.

The point is, another ant is crawling up my neck and I can’t help the instinct to slap my hand over it, murdering the sacrificial ant. Because, god save the queen and all that shit. I have to remind myself that I am the only wizard in the room who does not want to fuck Hermione Granger.

Her eyes dart over to me. She finally looks at me, her eyebrow lifting as she eyes my neck. It’s probably red from the force of my slap. I wonder if she can see the poor little ant corpse.

Longbottom rubs, anxiously, at the back of his neck and shrugs. “We could flip a coin.”

“Why don’t we look at them before we decide.” Michael Corner suggests with a yawn.

“I doubt they’re much different from each other.” Granger shakes her head. She looks at Abbot and Lovegood and lifts a brow at them. “What do you think?”

Lovegood points to the room on the left side. “Let’s pick this one. It’s closest to the exit.”

“Very well, it’s settled. Good night, boys.” There goes Hermione Granger, bossing everyone around and there goes everyone else. They just take it, they bend over, they lift up their skirts and they just take the big cock she sticks in all of their asses.

“Well,” I begin. “Since it’s near the exit, I think it’s best if we take the room.” I sniff and lift my chin and Granger puts her eyes on me and I leer at her. I leer and I wait for her to bark something, anything at me.

She shrugs and rolls her eyes, instead. “Whatever.” And then she’s walking away, again. She’s taking her eyes and she’s pulling them away from me and again, she leaves me unfulfilled.

She disappears into the room, on the right, and Lovegood and Abbott follow her.

The males all shrug and disappear into the door on the left and I think about sleeping here on the couch.

Instead, I follow and fall into the bed closest to the door. I don’t remove my dirty clothes, I don’t even take off my shoes. I just lay my dirty, sweaty head onto the clean linen and close my eyes.

I don’t know if I sleep or if I have somehow manipulated time.

I open my eyes, like I’ve only just blinked and there’s sunlight streaming in through the window.

There’s a shower running somewhere. I can hear it through the door that separates our room from the girls room.

Three shower stalls. Three sinks. Three doors for private toilets. One urinal tucked into the corner. This is the information I’ve quickly collected when I step into the bathroom. I hang my clothes and scourgify them. Until I can sneak away to the shrieking shack, this is all I have.

The witch taking a shower is Granger. She’s singing a song that sounds like something I might like to wrap around my brain for a moment. She sings like I don’t even exist in the world and it makes my stomach ache. How do I make her respond to me? How do I make things make sense again?

There’s something happening inside of me. It feels like the ants have invaded the bathroom. It feels like they’re all over me, inside of me and it feel like these little ants are full of electricity.

Like they have some sort of power over me. They force me to stand in front of her shower stall in nothing but my boxer briefs and I’ve become glued to the tiled floor.

And the point is, I can’t make myself do anything else. The point is, that when she shuts the water off and pulls the curtain open, already wrapped in a towel, I’m standing right in front of her.

She sucks in a quick, startled breath when she finds me there. Quickly though Granger’s fright vanishes and her eyebrows pull down as she stares at me with something like concern.

Her skin is like a flower with morning dew.

Her hair is piled atop of her head and only the curls that hang limply around her face are damp.

I can’t move. My fingers twitch, like I might reach out and grab her. Like I might press my hand against her shoulder and slam her into the wall. Like I might hide us away and finally hurt her the way I secretly want to.

With my hands, with her skin changing color beneath my fingers. With my mouth, my tongue, my cock.

Wait.

No.

This is Granger, and I hate her.

So, I tell her what I think. “No amount of showering will ever get that dirty blood of yours clean.” I say it but my dick is threatening to tell her something else.

The corner of her mouth lifts, her shoulder mottled with drops of water shrugs.

“Whatever.” She says it and there’s something airy and whimsical about her voice.

And something inside of me reacts. I break.

I break and I can’t help the things I do because it’s just the natural process of things.

When she makes to move past me, I use my body to block her from leaving the shower. A shiver runs up my body, and her big brown-gold topaz eyes widen as my hand wraps around her upper arm. I move her backwards and force her back against the wall. My hand wants to hurt her, it wants her to give me all of her time and all of her attention. If even for just a moment.

Her skin is slick and slippery and suddenly, I’m imagining the space between her thighs.

Now, I know I’m not the man my parents hoped I would be.

I’m something worse, because whatever they raised me to be, doesn’t include imagining my fingers in Hermione Grangers cunt.

But, I need to make her and I belong. We need to go back to where we belong. Together. Or else, what am I? I never belong. Except for when I’m bothering Granger.

“Malfoy,” She gasps out my name and I hold her against the wall while my body closes in on her. My hand is wrapped around her arm and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

Her round tits are pressed against my chest and her head is tilted up, staring up at me with caution, with fear.

“Stop dismissing me.” I growl quietly into her face.

She says nothing, and she just stares at me like she can’t decide if I belong. So I move my other hand into her hair at the back of her head and pull. “Did you hear me, Mudblood?”

Her eyes flare. They’re gold and brown and they burn. She’s scowling up at me, fighting the hold I have on her hair. Her bun is coming loose, strands are falling down and framing her panicked and angry face.

Something warm creeps into my chest as she lifts her fist, balled up and angry and she pounds it against my chest. “Fuck you, Malfoy.”

Oh, yes. Fuck, yes.

My body pushes into hers. I’m digging my hips against her and I’m smiling, actually fucking smile. “There she is.” I murmur and she sucks in a tight breath. We’re all too close and it’s a sin, really. It’s a sin to have my cock so close to that warm space between her thighs, but it feels better than insulting her. It feels better than when I told my parents to fuck off after they picked me up from the facility this summer.

She swallows hard. I dig my nose into her temple and breathe her in. Lavender. Damp grass. It’s wonderful. It’s awful. I hate her.

She completes me.

Her angry little face completes this crumbled bit of rock I’m standing on.

“You and I,” I say into her ear. My hand loosens its hold on her hair, and finds its way to her hip. I hold her in place, between me and the wall.

Her breasts are pushing against me, over and over, as she pants. Her breath is coasting against the side of my face.

I want to tell her that we belong at each others throats. That we belong, somehow, together, but also, apart. I want to tell her that I need her. I need her anger and her vitriol.

But none of that comes out.

No, instead, my teeth close over her earlobe. She whimpers and arches her back. And I repeat the words, my tongue snaking against the shell of her ear.

“You and I.” I say it again, like it’s a promise.

My hands detach themselves from her. With one hand holding her towel over her naked body the other shoves at my chest, hard.

“Fuck you.” She hisses again, before I let her past me. She storms out of the shower stall and I hear her bare feet slap against the tiled floor before the door to her room opens and closes behind her.

There’s an ant on my stomach. It dies by the palm of my hand. Another is on my chest, my arm, my face. Slap, slap, slap.

What the fuck is wrong with me? What did I just do?

My fingers dig into my hair and I laugh. I laugh and I feel tears sting the backs of my eyes. I have no idea what I’m doing. But, for the first time in two years, I feel less like a prisoner. For the first time in two years, I feel like the taste of freedom is just near the tip of my tongue.

Who knew it could feel so good?

[cleocatrablossy]

The ramblings of a mad man about gravity falls under the cut because someone has definitely thought of this before but I need to get it out of my brain and don’t want to subject my friends to my nonsense even more than normal

Okay okay okay. So Gravity Falls obviously has A Lot going on. But something I’ve sorta just noticed is how heavily it relies on making stuff up to people. Not forgiveness, absolutely not on forgiveness- which while it’s the most frequent response(even if begrudging) it’s not the part that the show hinges on. It’s trying to make things up to people.

Take episode 1 for an example of a simpler arc of it: Dipper and Mable get into a little bit of an argument over Norman, and specifically whether or not he’s a zombie. Dipper eventually realizes he was wrong and decides to try and make it up to Mable(though this is where he realizes that Norman still isn’t human so it’s more in thought than practice), and Mabel post gnome-reveal is obviously fighting with the gnomes but at the end there, just before firing Jeff into the giant gnome thingy says the line “And this is for messing with my brother” and of course there is the awkward sibling hug of consolation. But arguably on both parts it’s a thing of making it up to each other, Dipper’s making it up to Mabel about being a bit rude and crashing her dates in trying to fix throngs and then of course coming in the escape vehicle(golf cart), and Mabel’s making it up to Dipper in regards to getting him wrapped up in the gnome thing. And obviously they’d help each other no matter what, but this is just a tiny minor example of what happens again and again. In Legend of the Gobblewonker Dipper and Mabel leave Stan behind to go on a monster hunt, and in the end wind up trying to make it up to him by joining him in fishing. Even if it takes their original plan going horribly first, they’re preteens of course the main reason they know they’ve messed up somehow is when their plan doesn’t work out. Then even in that same episode you have Old Man McGucket and the fake Gobblewonker, and sure he outright says it’s because he doesn’t want to be ignored by his son, but take into consideration this with the retroactively added context of McGucket moving up to another state, working on a portal that leads to him being traumatized to the point of making a memory gun, losing all his memories(besides that of Tate), and being unable to be there fore him. He made the Gobblewonker because he figured Tate would be interested in it, and sure to some extent it is to get attention from his son but it’s to get attention to make up for the lost years due to the portal building and memory gun.

Then I just want to skip to why I thought this up in the first place, and of course the big bad. That Bill Cipher is the shows example of not taking accountability, and far more than that: retroactively trying to make what you did right. As seen in the TBoB he is the one that destroyed his home dimension, and while it’s clear he feels guilt about that he decided that since he had been trying to help show them the stars it wasn’t all that bad. Just an unfortunate mishap. And so from then on he keeps trying to justify any bad action, and takes more of them because he had to be in the right when he destroyed Euclydia. Because other wise he’d have to confront the fact that he did something horrible, and he hurt people, and that he can’t take it back. And so he doesn’t so much as create a grave for his parents, or even world as a whole. Because he never had to, he was always fine with what he was doing. Any action he took had to be in the right, whether it be to help him or his henchmaniacs or just because he thought it was funny. So of course he has no qualms about trying to take over Earth, and of course he lashes out as soon as it’s pointed out to him by someone that he considered close that he’s doing something horrible, and at last of course he wouldn’t be able to consider of the Stan-Twins being able to come to anything near enough of an agreement to team up against him. Because that would mean maybe he hadn’t always been right, that no matter how many times he reassures himself he still killed his whole home, that even if resolution doesn’t fix everything it helps. And so he dies, to a man who’s final words(at least before memory wiping) were that he was finally good for something- that he’d made up for whatever things he’d done enough to find peace. Because you have to remember that Stan probably figured he’d no longer be Stan in anything other than shape and name after that memory gun.

And then of course that brings me to the two Stans.

Ford spending 30 years hunting down Bill to try and make sure that he can’t reach our dimension, a preemptive measure to make up for opening the rift. Calling his brother after about if not over 10 years apart: paranoid, sleep deprived, and being haunted by a literal demon while stressing over the fate of the world due to his actions- to reconcile with Stan the only way he could at that point. To trust him with the task of getting rid of a journal, because he cannot trust anyone and so giving that journal to Stan and telling him to go was his best way of saying ‘I care about you, I miss you, I’m sorry’. Obviously that is NOT how it came across, but it’s what he’s attempting. He’s trying to make up for just watching as Stan go kicked out, for not reaching out in so long, for leaving the Stan O War behind. Even then it’s more of an attempt at… recognition than making up for anything. Then of course once he’s back after 30 years he’s fully focused back on making up for the portal, and more specifically the rift that came out of it. He meets back up with McGucket after so many years, and while he doesn’t get to make up for the portal incident directly- this whole time he’s been trying to follow through on what McGucket told him in destroying the portal- and especially Bill. Then, of course, there’s Ford and Stan. Because Ford just watched him get kicked out, he didn’t call, he left their childhood dream behind, when he finally reached out again he essentially just told Stan to get lost again, and then when he was brought back through the portal he immediately punched Stan in the face and never gave so much as a ‘thank you’. This is where I find Ford especially interesting in this little thought thing, because while he does try to make up for the other things he’s done, up until Weirdmaggedon Part 3 he never properly makes up for his original mistake. Because while he felt bad about not seeing Stan, and him getting kicked out- it never seems like he realizes the issue was the lost connection and trust and that he himself has some of the blame for that. Now maybe it’s actually covered in Journal 3 or Lost Legends or buried somewhere on the website, I admit I’m only going off the show, TBoB, and a couple of tidbits off the website. But at least from what I’ve seen, up until Weirdmaggedon Part 3 he is falling for the same critical flaw as Bill. That the original fuck up wasn’t at all his fault and so everything else has to be in some way rationalized. Obviously he realizes when the portal goes awry, and tries to fix it. He knows he messed up McGuckets life, he knows he potentially damned the universe, he knows he didn’t acknowledge Stan after he was kicked out. But he either doesn’t realize or doesn’t fully process that he actively hurt Stan and broke his trust when he just closed the curtains, when he never called(well, besides that one instance of Bill possessing him but that doesn’t really count), when he brought Stan over just to send him off, when his first thing upon returning was throwing a punch. But in the end he does acknowledge that he hurt Stan, and he offers to sacrifice himself for the kids, and presumably thanks Stan for getting him back through the portal.

And then there’s Stan. He accidentally broke his brothers science project costing him a dream college, was on the run scamming people for ten years, got wrapped up in the mob, pushed his brother through a portal, took over his brothers life and faked his death, lied to everyone he knew about it, hid the portal and his twin, left Waddles outside after promising not to, lied about knowing of the supernatural(really not a big deal until it comes to putting Dipper and Mabel into harms way), definitely doing child labor, and of course not being able to bring himself to hold Ford’s hand in the zodiac. But here’s the thing with Stan, he acknowledges every single mistake he’s made to a painful degree. He either has tried to fix and make up for or is very precisely aware of why each thing he did was at least a bit messed up. Because he always thought of himself as the ‘stupid twin’ and not enough. He cares about his family, his brother, Dipper, Mabel, hell- even Soos and Wendy are close enough to count. When he said that everything he’d done was for his family it was true. When he was a grifter, it was mostly for his own survival but also underlined by his father kicking him out until he makes millions. He spent 30 years teaching himself all sorts of math and physics and who knows what other kinds of stuff as a guy who didn’t finish high school so he could reopen the portal it took a prodigy, an incredibly impressive engineer, and a… whatever you call Bill to build. LIKE HOLY SHIT. Sure he took over Fords life, and while it helped him out it was also so he could get his brother back. He kept up the lie to Dipper and Mabel’s parents so he could take them over the summer so they wouldn’t have to witness whatever fight was going on. He hid the supernatural in a very failed attempt to protect them. He did his best to make sure the kids were safe when the government finally caught on in Not What He Seems. He broke out of questioning and fled the feds just to try and be there when the portal opened so he could greet his brother. In the end he says he was finally good for something in reference not to saving the entire fucking world or killing Bill, but to keeping his family safe. For ensuring Dipper and Mabel get to see their 13th birthday and the end of Summer. Because if Ford is a reflection of Bill, Stan is a reflection of Dipper and Mabel. Sure he fucks up a lot, but he always either tries to fix it and make it up to whoever he hurt or he knows exactly what he did, and acknowledges it. Sure he doesn’t fix every little thing he’s ever done, honestly not even some of the big stuff, but he knows he did it and he knows why it’s at least a little bit fucked, and he never convinced himself that he had done nothing wrong and fallen into a cycle of trying to rationalize it into being purely good.

I dunno I just have thoughts.

[rose-tinted-vision]

obligatory 'hey what the fuck, post-canon allowing character A to grieve as they should have in the drama' fic

Fic: 往事流转在你眼眸 | the past flows in your eyes

Relationships: Xiao Heng & Wen Ji, Xiao Heng & Lu Ji, Xiao Heng/Xue Fangfei

spoilers for the ending of The Double (墨雨云间) | edited because I shouldn't be allowed to write at 3am

Xiao Heng stares at the dead body of General Dai, and feels nothing. He feels no sense of triumph or vindication, just a gaping sense of emptiness, of loss.

He had only been able to soldier on, push through the last few days of war because he had Wen Ji and Lu Ji at his side, had been able to confidently raze through the battlefield because he knew that they would be watching his back.

Now, he was alone.

Alone, just as he was a decade ago.

Perhaps even more so than back then.

He picks up the jade token from A'Li– with its rope broken, he had no way else to reattach it– he holds it with his teeth instead, and lets the cold fury consume him as he charges to meet the next wave of Dai soldiers.

Xiao Heng would survive this war. He had to survive this war, in order to bring Wen Ji and Lu Ji back home.

—

Xiao Heng guards their bodies all the way home.

He carries out their funeral rites himself– as their employer, their friend, their brother– they had no other family members. It had always been the three of them, building the reputation of Duke Su from the ground up, all while avoiding the corrupt officials together.

“I'm sorry,” Zhao Ye mutters, rounding his desk to stand in front of Xiao Heng, who had arrived to present his report to the Emperor, “I never expected…”

“Don't get emotionally involved,” Xiao Heng laughs bitterly, “isn't that what you said?”

“They weren't pawns!” Zhao Ye snaps, his eyes flashing angrily as he whirls on Xiao Heng. And if this were anywhere but the Emperor’s private office, if they hadn’t grown up together, if Zhao Ye didn’t know how much they had meant to him, he would likely have gotten sentenced for talking back to the Emperor. Instead, he just stares blankly at his friend, numb to the rage written all over his face.

“They were. What else would you call risking their lives to carry out our dirty work? They knew it too, but they didn't care.”

Zhao Ye deflates with a shaky exhale, his anger gone as quickly as it came, and he places a comforting hand on Xiao Heng’s shoulder.

It felt anything but comforting. It felt like the hand of someone who sent them to their deaths– 

“At least they went together,” Xiao Heng forces out, and it takes all of his self-control not to shake the hand off, “Wen Ji always said that if they died in battle, at least he would have a companion in hell.”

(He doesn’t know why he said that, or why he had bothered to share anything with Zhao Ye, who he had taught to view others as chess pieces and the world as their playing board).

Zhao Ye wisely says nothing, silently bearing the brunt of Xiao Heng’s grief.

—

“They’re gone?” A'Li asks, her voice trembling, “what do you mean they're gone?”

Xiao Heng simply takes her into his arms, because he does not want to say it either, does not want to say those words that would cement their deaths in reality.

(He doesn't think he could bear the expression on his furen’s face right now– his A'Li had always felt death more acutely than others, had always grieved for people openly, and he doesn’t think he is ready to feel his heart shatter again).

“Oh, Xiao Heng,” she mutters, burying her face into the crook of his neck as she breaks down, hands fisted in the back of his robes.

And that was all he really needed to let go, apparently.

For the first time in a month, Xiao Heng finally lets go of the restraint on his emotions, letting the grief overtake him as he cries in the security of his furen's arms.