#This was fun to listen to the first time around but through new eyes? beloved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lil-quinnie · 10 months

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I know who i want to take me home.

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie x f!bestfriend

part II

warnings: 18+

Summary: That time where Eddie stood up for you and you never left his side again,

You've known Eddie since your 4th grade, when some girls were making fun of you for your dress or something stupid like that. Kids could be mean, that Eddie knew.

He'd been teased ever since he arrived in Hawkins a few years ago. When word got around that the kid's shaved hair was because he had head lice or was arrested, he vowed he'd never take that kind of shit in silence again, and so he did.

Eddie already considered himself the savior of the broken, the beats and the damaged.

From the day he threatened to throw mud on the girls' perfectly pressed clothes, you were never apart, ending that summer afternoon with him pushing you on the swing and you sharing ice cream while Eddie talked about how cool it was to live in a park trailer "There are always kids there to play with, you should go meet more friends" Eddie said in his childish squeal.

You were together when Eddie's father got out of prison and disappeared into the world "he better stay away anyway" Eddie had told you with his eyes on the ground, as he walked you back to your house kicking some rocks by the way. It was the first time you held his hand, giving it some squishes every now and then, you could see Eddie’s dimples every time his eyes landed on your holding hands.

You were together when you got your first guitar, realizing that music wasn't really one of your talents but was certainly one of Eddie's, giving your beloved guitar to your best friend, who trained every day and looked forward every Friday before Hellfire to show you some new music he had taught himself, and it wasn't long before he started showing you the songs he wrote.

“Ok…they are really good men, don’t get me wrong, but you are so in love with her that your song got a little…emotional??” Gareth had told the boy after hearing a new composition, rhythm and lyrics! Eddie froze at his friend's words, as if he had said the most secret words in the world "Dude, relax! It's just a song" he shrugged feigning a normalcy that clearly didn't exist, "yeah, sure...just a song" Gareth was smirking, his tone determined to get under the poor metalhead's skin.Eddie looked at the with no reaction, as if he had been caught doing something illegal, and among all the excuses he came up with at that moment, he said the lyrics weren't all about you, he swore to Gareth. “It’s about Chrissy, you know, the blond unreachable cheerleader who goes to our school?, ring any bell? butthead”. Gareth just rolled his eyes and nodded.

You were together when Eddie decided to grow his hair big! And you always supported him, even when his hair didn't look good at all. "You can wear my bandana if you want, it's very metal" you said and shrugged, handing the bandana to a pre-teen Eddie. You didn't want to admit that those little curls that fell across the boy's face did something to the inside of your stomach, which started to feel tight and hot whenever he was around. You couldn't take the feeling in your chest anymore every time your fingers passed through the boy’s hair, blowing a few strands out of his face whenever he played the guitar or tried unsuccessfully to roll a joint, the feeling was so much so that you decided to give him your bandana, explaining how it would help keep the hair out of his face. Eddie just nodded and listened carefully to everything you said.

As soon as he dropped you off at home and you said your goodbyes, instead of lighting a cigarette and walking to the trailer like he did every other day, he preferred to take the walk holding the bandana tightly inside his jacket pocket as if it were the most precious treasure.

Eddie opened his front door in a hurry and as soon as he heard the lock click, he brought the bandana up to his nose, feeling the heady peach scent of your shampoo.

Eddie spent the rest of the night looking at himself in the mirror, trying to fix his headband in the most "metal" way possible, but he swore to Wayne it wasn't to impress you.

Now, a few years later, you were still there when they first called him a freak, you couldn't quite tell what was going through your best friend's mind.

Eddie was loud, he never stayed quiet when they made mean comments even less when it was one made by an idiot jock. But nothing came out of your best friend's half-open mouth. Eddie knew he had different tastes than most, pop music didn't suit his ear, he could play any kind of games if he wanted, with balls or not, but sports were only for Sunday afternoons when Wayne was off and they could spend some time together, but freak?! “Does she see me like that too?” Eddie's head was sinking into a spiral of shame and fear and you grew agonized by not being able to do anything, in a weak act he looked towards the back of the classroom, looking for you.

You never forgot the look he gave you that day, the sad smile printed on his face, making your face burn with anger "Shut your mouth Jason, do n't you have to kiss your teammates ass or something?" you answered back in the middle of class, making everyone laugh. You got a pass straight to detention and a relieved whispered "thank you" from Eddie.

That was your relationship with Eddie, and even after all these years, nothing has changed! well, almost nothing. Eddie kept swearing and playing his undying love for Chrissy in every new song he played to you, always creating imaginary situations and acting out how he would play for her if he had the chance. Despite the bitter taste of jealousy running down your tongue, there's nowhere else in the world you'd rather be.

Sitting on Eddie's bed while he played a few chords and made some silly rhymes to get you a laugh, as the sun went down and you shared a well-rolled joint by Hawkins' newest drug dealer. At that point, you and Eddie were more than friends and the comfortable “family” feeling took over your relationship, even if something always seemed out of place.

You followed all the corroded coffin shows and saw Eddie flirting with every type of groupie possible, which made you wonder if he had ever thought of you that way.

God! The kid didn't have a specific type, even with the male bartenders at Hideout you'd see him flirt, he flirted with literally anything but you.The boys gathered more and more people to watch their shows, the Hideout got smaller and smaller for their talent and charisma and you couldn't be more proud of your boy's accomplishments. But, "with great talent comes great responsibility", or whatever other nerdy shit you thought Eddie would tell you. That is, if he was on your side in the middle of the crowd of sweaty bodies that swayed in sync with his electric guitar chords. Still, no matter how pretty, nice, hot or smooth-talking the person Eddie was flirting with was, at the end of the night it was you he always took home, in the second-hand van Wayne got Eddie for his 17th birthday .

“Hey trouble” Eddie hugged you from behind as you got you both beer, you could feel his skin still wet with sweat and the smell of his cheap cologne invaded your nose “EDS” you hugged him tight still jumping with excitement “My god, you…you all did so well today, fuck it was amazing I'm so proud of you I mean the whole band, here” you handed over the bottle of beer and took a sip from yours to avoid saying something that would leave you still more like a fool. "Yeah, it was kind of good right?!"

Eddie was smiling proudly and scratching his head awkwardly as he saw your big bright eyes looking at him the way you were, he toasted you before just taking a sip of his beer "Come on, I'll get you home before it gets too late ” he said, putting his arms around your shoulders and walking with you to the exit. The drive to the parking lot was short and you couldn't answer all the good-byes people gave Eddie and Eddie's girl, you.

It was your first and very last senior year of high school, and finally Eddie was free from hell high school, you miss him there though.

You got your college acceptance letter, your family was in an uproar, lots of hugs and laughter but your heart was so tight, and you didn't know why. You could barely sleep at night thinking about what life would be like in another city, far from your family, your friends and him. You tried to disguise the dark circles under your eyes with a little makeup, thinking that drugstore concealer would hide all the dark aura that enveloped you that morning, but you should have known better.

You went downstairs as soon as you heard the noisy van turn off the engine, instead of waiting for Eddie to come in and have the daily cup of coffee with your mother and complain about your morning attitude, you took the snacks lovingly prepared by your mother, one for each of you and ran out the door, pulling Eddie along the way and dragging him back to the van “I'm late, no coffee today Munson”, you said in a dry tone, making the newly awakened boy just nod “yes ma'am ” he said getting behind the wheel.

The driveway was quiet and safe and you were comfortable until Eddie started peppering you with questions, you were overwhelmed and told your best friend about your leaving in a few weeks in the worst possible way. He didn't take it very well. "Are you going to leave me here, alone in this shithole?" your teary eyes irritated Eddie more than brought him to reality, it was your choice to leave for college, wasn't it?

The morning ended with you slamming the van door as hard as you could and Eddie skipping school and heading to the abandoned bank in the middle of the woods behind the football field. That day you chose to walk home alone rather than answer your friend who, even not entering the school, was waiting for you outside.Days passed and nothing from your best friend showed up, answered your calls or stopped running through the school corridors trying to avoid you like the plague. "He needs space now" was what Nancy repeated to you every time that happened.

The week dragged on without the presence of your best friend. Now on Friday, Nancy and Robin were trying to convince you to go to your last high school party. “Come on baby girl, it's your last high school party! Fuck Eddie if he's such a sucker for not wanting to enjoy every second he has with you” Robin said in a rather mean attempt at convincing you, “not to mention he'll probably be there, parties are always good for…business” Nancy added knowing that this argument would definitely make you go to this party, you needed to see that the metalhead was fine without you, even if it destroyed his soul.

"Fuck it, fuck him! I'm going to that stupid party!" You said in a sigh, Robin threw her arms up as if thanking heaven for your sudden change of decision, and Nancy just chuckled to herself, knowing the real reason for the change.

You made a point of putting on your nicest black dress, which hugged all of your curves that until now you've never felt the need to show off, a pair of combat boots, and whatever jacket Nancy made you pack just in case.

It was so hot, you didn't know if it was the amount of people dancing to the same rhythm inside Steve's living room or if it was just the cheap beer you weren't used to drinking, pushing the slimy liquid down your throat. You searched the entire party for Eddie with no luck, stopping in the kitchen only to talk to Steve who would pull you out of the crowd making fun of your bothered face. At parties like this you usually stayed outside with Eddie while he went about his business, but the sight of your best friend hitting on a cheerleader forced you to make SUCH a sacrifice as drinking such a horrible warm bear. Of course Eddie had seen you, he saw you as soon as you got out of Nancy's car, walking into Steve's house arm in arm with Robin laughing at some weird thing the blonde had said, of course he noticed the flush in your cheeks and as your eyes wandered over the people passing by, his heart ached to realize that he was the one you were looking for, but he remained professional and ended the transaction with the cheerleader who was so drunk that she didn't show her usual disgust at touching on Eddie, on the contrary, she insisted on keeping her hands on him with every word that came out of her mouth.

It was too much for you, you thought, even though you didn't understand where that sore feeling had come from. Staggering through the halls, you managed to find fresh air and took refuge on the pool deck, the muffled music made your thoughts dance around Eddie, you downed the already warm beer in one go throwing the can across the yard of the Harrington mansion, catching the attention of the school's bad boy, Billy, who was finishing rolling a joint still talking to his drug dealer, Eddie.

"Isn't this your little friend, Munson?" Billy asked, both watching you drunken antics, “yeah, yeah it's her'' Eddie didn't let on that your friendship was at a low point in no time, but Billy was always good at reading between the lines “She's fucking hot, now I get it because you hid her behind that shit you like” he said with a smirk on his face, “you wanted her all to yourself, freak?” Billy laughed as he grabbed another bottle of beer and walked towards you, leaving Eddie alone with the cheerleader who accompanied the entire interaction glued to the boy's arm.

Even from afar, doing "business" with Billy and the popular crowd, Eddie wouldn't take his eye off you, following your every move with lost puppy eyes, Eddie's sad eyes accompanied your dress getting up on your thighs more and more, Billy's hands finding your soft skin, stroking and squeezing as you shared the joint. Eddie's big brown eyes burned as he watched the whole scene like a masochist, and it didn't go unnoticed. "she's just my best friend" he replied for the 1,000th time to a drunken cheerleader who tried to get the boy out of his temper that night. She twisted the end of Eddie's hair between her fingers, closing any distance he put between them.

Eddie saw when Billy approached you, he saw when you laughed at some really bad joke making the blond boy stick out his chest in pride, he saw his hands on your thighs and just when he thought his heart couldn't take it anymore, Billy kissed you. Billy tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear like Eddie had dreamed of doing for years, he caressed your rosy cheeks from alcohol and you gave that shy smile that was usually kept just for him, just for Eddie.

"I can make you forget about her'' said the cheerleader next to Eddie's ear, in a not at all drunken tone anymore,”wait…what?” He said while she was pulling Eddie by the hand to one of the Harringtons' empty rooms. Climbing the stairs with the girl, the last thing Eddie saw before entering the room was you walking hand in hand with Billy out of the pool's deck. He didn't know what was going on with him, in all of his high school time, he wanted nothing more than to be locked up with a cheerleader in a dark room, but now he doesn't feel it's the right choice for him.

Eddie was practically thrown into the room and before he said anything, the girl was already on top of him, her lips tasted like cherry and some drink he couldn't recognize. He wanted to be enjoying it as much as the girl who attacked his neck fervently, but he wasn't. He walked to the window lighting up a cigarette and looking out to the parking cars until he saw you and Billy share more kisses, Eddie doesn't feel like being in that party anymore.

The cheerleader still hadn't given up on taking a piece of the boy. hands roaming his pale body until they found the belt buckle, while she unbuttoned it, Eddie watched you through the window. The girl's hands found Eddie's almost erect member, making her mouth water at the size, even though he wasn't 100% hard for her, Eddie was big. The not-so-drunk girl knelt down in front of him, pulling down his boxers until his dick was showing. She didn't wait to put Eddie inside her mouth, moaning as she felt the taste of him taking over her tongue, "you're so big Eddie” she said before going back bobbing her head, sucking every part of the boy's already hard cock. He surrendered to the cheerleader, letting his head fall back as she devoured him, his hand went to the back of the girl's head, forcing her more and more against his cock "I want to see you touch yourself while sucking me, pretty girl” he said through the weak moans, and so did she. Eddie admired for a while the scene he had imagined for years, a cheerleader on her knees for him with her mouth full of his cock, his hips began to push on her mouth in sloppy movements, she moaned loudly while abusing her own clits.

Everything was going well, until Eddie heard her laugh outside.

He watched as Billy's hands traveled to your hips than to the fat of your ass, squeezing and pressing his body against yours, you could feel Billy's hard cock rubbing against your waist, causing you to pull away at the same moment.

Billy's lips on your neck as he pressed you against the car, your face in discomfort, you tried to get rid of the boy's grip without success, pushing and trying to create any kind of space between your body and his, that was enough for Eddie. He pulled the girl who was sucking his dick up, who didn't understand anything, just looked at him with hate!

From the other side Eddie wasn't sure how to get out of this situation so he just said “I'm sorry doll, if it was another time … i'm so sorry” he said pulling up his pants and running down the stairs with his belt still open, straight to your rescue!

Eddie ran outside the house screaming your name, afraid that Billy had already done something to hurt you, Eddie knew how Billy treated his girls, hell! Everyone knew of Billy's fame and yet, he let the situation get to this level.

Seeing you still trying to get out of the blonde's arms "you're hurting me Billy, let go of me!" You said in a voice choked with fear, Eddie's vision went black and his body moved without any direct order from the boy's brain, it was as if he had blacked out for a few moments. When he came back to reality, you were alone leaning against the car and Billy lying on the ground with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s go” Eddie grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the party as fast as he could make you walk, escorted by Billy’s menacing screams “Run away Freak, that’s what you’re good at!” or “you can keep that little slut, when you get tired of using her, my turn will come”. Eddie thanked every entity that you were so in shock you couldn't hear the blonde's insults. He helped you into the van and put his jacket around your shoulders “are you ok trouble?” he asked as he put the belt around your body “I missed you” was what came out of your mouth, Eddie chuckled and shook his head in denial “unbelievable” he thought, closing the van door and taking you to the security of your home. It didn't really matter how many people Eddie flirted with or got involved with, at the end of the night, it would always be you he was going to take home, both of you knew that.

The next morning, a big glass of water, some headache pills and a sleeping metalhead were the first things you saw when you opened your eyes, before your head started hurting like a bitch. You took the pill and gently woke your best friend “here, before you get a headache”, Eddie thought it was cute that you thought he needed the same minimum amount of alcohol as you to get sick, but how could he say no if you were standing there in front of him, looking so pretty and trying to take care of him? “Thanks, my head it’s killing me.” He said, taking the pill. Eddie could see Billy's finger prints on his biceps, making his stomach roll in anticipation.

Leading him to bed and closing the curtains, making almost nothing in the room visible.

You laid your aching body next to your best friend, the familiar smell of weed and cigarettes made you feel at home, Eddie feeling your body relax pulled you close to him, finally laying spoon with you, after all those years laying together, this was the first he spooning you and the feeling was so warm and comfortable…

"I'm sorry trouble" "shh eddie, it's too early for this" turning over in bed, coming face to face with your best friend, you could feel Eddie's uneven breathing on your cheeks. You buried your face in your best friend's chest, closing your eyes as he pressed you against his body "I love you eddie" you whispered almost inaudibly, not for him.

Eddie paid attention to every word that came out of his mouth and this time was no different. The difference came in how the heat rose through his body, he could hear his heart beating so hard against his ribcage that he was afraid to wake you up. He didn't go back to sleep that morning, nor did he move until you woke up. He also didn't say he heard you or that he loved you too, he just lay there enjoying every second he had before you left.

Now, 5 years later, many corroded coffin tours and phone conversations, here was Eddie again, where all his paths always led, you. Eddie got a few days off before the new tour started, in 5 years the band did great, opening shows for bands that Eddie dreamed of one day watching the show from the front row, but at that time, he opened the show for his favorite bands. They were destined for success, he was and you always knew it. Now with an audience of their own, Corroded Coffin were one of the most prestigious metal bands in the scene, traveling on extensive tours around the world and always returning to the warmth of their embrace.

"Did you really like it Eddie? I mean, it's no palace but" you shrugged, holding the contract in both hands as the late afternoon light streamed in through the apartment's large windows.

Eddie had never seen you look so beautiful, he thought ."I love it" he said with that crooked smile that has affected you since... forever,

"it suits you dear and it's close to the school where you work, I mean, having the best of both worlds, right?" you bit your bottom lip trying to contain the happiness. The contract was duly signed and delivered to the real estate agent on the same day. The apartment was perfect, just a little chilly at night, "my feet are cold" you texted Eddie every night before you fell asleep, the lack of your response didn't make Eddie mad or worried, he knew you just passed out in the warm of your bed with furry socks trying to keep your feet warm. The mental image Eddie created in his head of you in your hibernating state made him smile every time.

In the middle of winter Eddie came to visit you, with a big box in his hands, you could see that the man was exhausted from all the shows an shit. You never imagined that he would visit you! Your plush pajamas and your fluffy socks say so...for Eddie, your prettier version.

Sitting on the couch, Eddie opened the box and took out a black kitten "It's Sir Bartlomeow" he said with a trembling voice trying to contain his laughter "Since I'm going to be away all winter, this little guy here” bart meowed in response, as if agreeing with the man's statement, making you both laugh “will be the new one in charge of keeping the helpless damsel's feet warmed" you chuckled and thanked him for the unusual gift, instantly falling in love with the kitten and more and more with your best friend.

Two weeks, it had been two weeks since Eddie had gone on his European tour, texting between shows and the countless parties a rockstar needed to attend. Eddie loved the star life, the craziness of the roads and the crowds of people screaming his name, waiting for him, but nights like this, all he could do was miss you. "Hey trouble, I hope you’re ok, is Sir Bart treating you well? I hope so…, I miss you, you know... I can't wait to watch shrek 2 with my favorite person, I have to go , see you in two weeks...yeah?!, bye sweetheart" said the message that lit up your cell phone screen as you laughed at your kitty vet's unfunny jokes, making your heart hurt a little.

It was the first Friday since he'd been away and the usual movie night with his girlfriends turned into a conversation about his frustrated love life.

"I know Nance, I should have replied to Eddie's damn text but what was I going to say?" you said to Nancy over a glass of your favorite rose wine "I miss you too, in fact I miss you every time you haven't been around me since... forever" you downed the glass in agony as Nancy laughed along with Robin. "I mean" Robin began, causing you to roll your eyes in displeasure. "It’s Eddie!, Rockstar or not, he's been in love with you since high school, come on!" earning an elbow from Nancy "ouch babe" Robin whispered.

"It's not like he's not in the arms of some super model right now" your tone was low as you took in every detail of that magazine cover, throwing it on the coffee table allowing the girls to see the gigantic picture of YOUR best friend almost swallowing the face of a very beautiful woman. "But what about the vet, he seemed nice" Nancy offered with an empathetic smile on her lips.Turning the cover of the magazine over, you shrugged “yeah, maybe I'll accept his invitation to dinner, who knows?”.

A/N: Thank you so much @squidscottjeans for all the patience and tips <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #modern!eddie #best friends to lovers #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader smut #Eddie my love #eddie munson fanfic

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sorcerersseestars · 1 year

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his eyes, your ears [part iv]

series masterlist

Gojo Satoru x reader

summary: There was a time when you called him best friend, but those days escaped you long ago. There’s no way he’s alive – right? With the depth of his betrayal still lingering in your heart and mind, what would his reappearance spell for your life?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

warnings: cursing, lowkey a little mental torture, TW! s*xual a*sault (forced kiss), violence!!, one instance of vomiting (sry), immoral and creepy Geto, reader is kinda anxious nonstop (like writer like reader?), some details are non-canon (a/n 2.0 at end explains), also it’s slow for the first half but picks up I promise, I think I made Geto sound British???, also I made Hanami act like a mom kinda 💀 uh…im going to call it comic relief?

word count: 6.7k. oof.

a/n: I am literally SO SORRY that this has been sitting in my drafts for so long but… life happens! Along those lines – I wrote 1/2 of this in September and 1/2 of it in May, so it might be a bit disjointed sorryyy hehe

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Then you’ll have to live with disappointment,” He flashes you an all-too-pleased-with-himself smile. “Becaaause it’s totally permanently in your phone now.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, right. As if I wouldn’t be able to delete a contact.”

He has a devilish smirk on his face, but his voice is annoyingly innocent and cheerful. “Go ahead, try!”

You gasp. “Gojo! Did you jailbreak my new phone?!”

“Uh, uh! That not what my contact reads as!” He snatches your phone from your hands, and points a large finger to the tiny name on your screen. “It’s ‘My Beloved Best Friend Satoru’!”

“Satoru,” You say dangerously. “Erase this or I’ll erase you from existence.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I’d love to see you try. You’re cute when you try to beat me.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find words, and you try to ignore the heat on your cheeks. “S-Satoru! You asshole, give me my phone back!”

He holds it high above your head, a wide smile lingering on his face. He’s having way too much fun with this. You jump, trying to swat it out of his hand, but to no avail.

“Why did you even do this?” You grumble, sighing. “What, is it ‘how many ways can I torture (Y/N) in the span of a few hours’ day?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re weak, remember? You gotta have me on speed dial if you want to survive in this line of work.”

First, your eyes widen at his blunt statement. Then you sigh again, this time a bit sadly. “Wow, you have so much faith in me…thanks.”

“You never know what’s out there,” Gojo says. “If you ever have any trouble, call me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is this a prank? I thought you hated ‘helping the weak’.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” He says firmly. “I’ll always pick up. Abuse the privilege, whatever, I don’t care. Just don’t die.”

Your head snaps towards him, mouth hanging open with shock. “Satoru, what…? I’m not going to…”

You fall silent. There’s no guarantee of that.

He steps closer to you, closer than what you’d consider friendly. Your heart skips a beat.

“Just do it, okay? I’ll always be on the other end.”

Always, huh? But now…

Ring, ring, ring. You bite your lip, pressing your phone hard against your ear, as if his voice will appear if you wish it enough. Ring, ring, ring.

“Please…” You whisper. “Come on, come on.”

Your breath hitches as the distinctive timbre of Satoru’s voice fills your ear, but your shoulders fall almost immediately.

“Hey, sorry I’ve missed your call! If you close your eyes, recite my name five times, and spin around twice, I might get back to ya! No exceptions – not even–”

You sigh and hang up before you’re put through to voice mail. It’s not like he’ll listen to it, anyway.

He’s been avoiding you. You haven’t seen him for days – six, to be exact. It’s been five days since Shoko deemed you well enough to recover at home, despite the worryingly slow rate that your cursed energy has been returning. You were released with the promise you wouldn’t exert yourself and absolutely would not use any cursed energy. All the while, you had childishly held two crossed fingers behind your back – your promise was as empty as you felt.

You should have expected this; this shouldn’t hurt so much. Gojo is the strongest sorcerer the world has seen for hundreds of years. He never runs from his foes – he doesn’t need to. When it comes to facing emotions, however, he is all but mighty. Whenever his emotions run high, overflowing until they begin to leak out into broad daylight, he turns tail and practically erases himself from existence. It’s nearly impossible to find him – he mysteriously leaves no trace, even for an experienced tracker like you.

You left Shoko with an empty smile and promise, and Gojo has done just the same. Despite him swearing that he’d be back to see you, Gojo is nowhere to be found. You’ve dropped by at the school multiple times, even asking his students if they knew of his whereabouts, but nobody has been able to give you an answer.

He’s been dodging your calls, letting it ring until his chirpy voicemail message mocks you. The text messages you leave go unread, unopened.

When you hopelessly reopen your chat with him, you can’t help but bite yoru nails as you stare at the wall of blue on your screen. Message after message – unfinished thoughts, apologies, words full of urgency and desperation – are left by trembling hands bloodied by your own worry.

‘I’m the strongest,’ He always says, so why does fear spike in your veins at the thought of Geto finding him?

Even though his own arrogant words ring through your head, you can’t quell the anxiety that threatens to wreak havoc over your fragile state. You’re worried, so worried, and it bleeds into the rest of your life: you’re all over the place, constantly forgetting appointments and important items, you are inexplicably tense, your breathing is constantly shallow and quick; you’re barely holding yourself together.

A few days ago, you had your meeting with Yaga, alone, which went just as horribly as you could have imagined, but you were thankfully spared contact with the higher-ups due to your condition.

But you’re almost all better now – at least physically. That’s why you’re back again, ready for another round of manipulation and abuse.

You’re out of it, so out of it. Your eyes are glazed over, and nothing they say registers in your mind. Even when you try to focus on the words leaving their mouths, your brain filters it all back into mindless noise.

There’s a sequence of very familiar syllables: ah, your name is being shouted. You look up with empty eyes, blinking slowly.

“Useless sorcerer, answer me, now!” Gakuganji roars. “You are testing our patience, and I’ve just about run out of it. Can you track him, or not?”

You breathe in shakily, and let out a weak, clueless, “What?”

“Track him, or they’re dead,” He spits. “Track Geto Suguru. Find him. We won’t wait long. If you haven’t reported back in a week, your parents won’t be able to enjoy their retirement any longer.”

Some of the other council members shift uncomfortably at his bluntness, but you barely even flinch.

You’re so tired of it all. You almost wish you had encouraged Gojo to just off them once and for all.

“Okay,” You mumble softly, lacking the energy to project your voice. “I can do it. I will track Geto Suguru.”

You drag yourself out without acknowledging them, without any show of respect, but the thought of caring is lost on you. Your apathy leaves a trail of displeased whispers, but you don’t even notice.

You speed-dial his number again and again and again, and are returned with nothing but the taunt of his cheerfully recorded memo.

When you finally look away from his contact info burning your retinas, your gaze is trained on the clear sky. It shouldn’t be so vivid, shouldn’t be so beautiful – today should be overcast and rainy. You can’t help but frown, but your eyes remain on the heavens.

Then you’re granted a sight that usually coaxes a smile out of you no matter how you feel: a particularly large gust of wind lays out a collection of reddening autumn leaves against the azure sky. They swirl and dance in the breeze, hovering in your field of vision for a few more moments before they are whipped away.

It’s a sign of the changing of seasons – it has always been one of your favorite times of the year, especially during your years at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The rapid approach of the holidays and the time spent training with your classmates in the chilly air has always enlivened you.

Today, this sight drives fat tears to roll down your cheeks. It just serves to remind you of the juxtaposition between those blissful times and these turbulent times: the weight of Geto’s betrayal, his subsequent death, his impossible revival.

You turn your head to the side, eyes tracking the leaves as they dance into the distance.

“So I’m really doing this then,” You whisper to yourself. “Yeah, guess I am. You’re not here to stop me…”

They’re far from Tokyo, much further than they were before. That much is obvious from the start, when you first scour for their residuals. After a disappointing first try by Jujutsu High - you shouldn’t expected much, anyway - you decide to return to their last known location: the forest you nearly were obliterated in. You dread returning there, but you have little choice unless you want to do a whole lot of guesswork.

You drive yourself there. Usually, you would be accompanied by your usual driver Ijichi, but the thought of asking him didn’t even cross your mind. In the eyes of the Jujutsu world, this is a suicide mission. You’re well aware of that: so why involve anyway else unnecessarily, risking innocent lives?

You’re grateful for the calming scenery that blurs by: miles and miles of inhabited land, solely occupied by woodland’s creatures. Hardly any curses are present in the countryside, as there are no humans to feed off of. Those special grades you faced were certainly the exception.

You pull over to the edge of the forest once you sense a steady stream of cursed energy. The residual energy is at least a week old - just around the time of your unfortunate encounter with them. You close your eyes and carefully sift through all of the cursed energy signatures left behind, immediately identifying Hanami’s and Jogo’s faint residuals. There’s one stronger energy, and very familiar: Satoru’s cursed energy.

His cursed energy is so easy to pick out, no matter where you are. It’s so bright and lively, practically humming under your fingers every time you sense it, almost as if it were your own.

But there’s a shadow – his energy shadows another. You concentrate, sensing an underlying current of a more recent energy. Your eyes fly open, startled by your discovery. It is much fresher than the others: the residuals are only a few days old.

Its signature is both unknown and yet alarmingly familiar. It’s dark, so dark. Its energy chokes you, holds you hostage with the way it starts to stick to you and steal your courage with its oppressiveness. You’ve never felt an energy quite like this, yet it feels all too familiar.

You begin to shake, the reality sinking in. “Geto…. Just what have you become?”

You shakily clamber back into the driver’s seat, firmly gripping the steering wheel with sweaty hands. Geto was here. Geto knows that you and Satoru were in the same vicinity as Jogo and Hanami. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t know — you carelessly hadn’t wiped your residuals or even tried to cover your tracks.

You step on the gas. You keep your cursed energy flowing as you speed down the road, revealing a murky trail of residuals to follow. His cursed energy is so distinctly foul that you can pick it out from the rest with little effort. It’s overwhelming and makes you nauseous. Cursed with a twist of familiarity – a sickening combination.

Your mind begins to race. Is this how Gojo felt back then? No, it must have been so much worse, tracking one of your soulmates down with the intent to…to kill. And now you’re being forced to track him down again, just so the higher-ups can order Gojo to repeat history, just so your best friends will be forced to fight until one is–

You jerk the steering wheel over, making for a rough pull-over job. You throw yourself out of the car as quickly as possible before retching your stomach’s contents out onto the dark pavement.

The old wounds in your heart flare up; you clutch your chest desperately.

You are not strong enough to protect your parents - but are you strong enough to survive the alternative, the reality you and Gojo can’t help but deny?

“I have to,” You whisper to yourself. “I have to do this. I have no power in this world, I’m not the strongest…so this is all I can do.”

And so you are off again, this time unwavering from the course you’re set on.

By the time you reach Kyoto, an untimely five hours of panicked driving later, their residuals are so apparent that you hardly have to try. It’s almost as if they’re luring you in, the most sensitive tracker known in the Jujutsu world; why else would they leave behind such obvious traces of their cursed energy?

You ignore your instincts that scream for you to turn back, and instead continue into the outskirts of the most outer part of the residential areas – the residuals lead you far from the city itself.

As you venture further into the countryside, your stomach begins to clench. The residuals are much stronger now, but not alarmingly so. They should still be miles and miles out, perhaps 40 or 50 – there should be enough distance to not alert them of your presence. However, as a precaution, you stretch your hearing beyond the range of any normal human. You still feel unsettled, even with the extra layer of protection.

This is dumb. This is a terrible idea. Yet, you keep your foot firmly on the gas pedal.

You are suddenly flooded with an overwhelming wave of noise. Your brain barely has a second to process what your ears pick up: the roar of an object hurtling towards your car. You swerve to the roadside, and you’re barely fast enough: the driver’s side door is nearly scraped off, and it begins to smolder.

It shouldn’t be possible. They shouldn’t be here. Not again.

Running on pure adrenaline, you rip your seatbelt off and throw yourself to the passenger’s side door, seeking an escape from the next impending strike. Your hearing is more sensitive from your frenzied state, and you hear the next meteor much earlier this time. You rely on your hearing, on your hearing only: it will tell you where to dodge.

You climb out of the car, wheezing on smoke and fumes, and take off running. You gasp at the sound of the next meteor closing in on you and quickly dive away, throwing yourself to the ground and covering your head with your hands. The explosion is so intense that even after reducing your hearing, you feel the shock reverberate through your body and overpower any other sensation you feel.

After the ringing in your ears lets up for a moment, you finally feel the aftermath of the blast: shards of heated rock are embedded in your side, scorching your skin. There’s no time to even think about it: you’re up and running away from the voices that soon enter your hearing.

“You imbecile! Do you always have to do the opposite of what you’ve been ordered?” The grating tones of Hanami enter your ears as he hisses at Jogo. “He said captured alive! Or would you rather face his wrath?”

Captured? So they had been expecting your arrival; it was a trap all along.

“Relax, I haven’t even made a scratch yet!” Jogo shouts back.

“You’re embarrassing yourself in many ways,” Hanami scoffs. “If your intention was to kill, I will begin to further doubt your abilities. I already had to rescue you from that sorcerer, or has your pea-brain already forgotten that failure after it fell off of your body?”

“Shut up already,” Jogo growls. “I got it, okay?”

You truly don’t know what to do. Your last encounter made it very clear that you are solely a tracker with limited offensive ability. Hell, you didn’t even try last time because you knew it be to utterly pointless – the result would turn out no better if you tried now. Two special grades against a Grade 1 sorcerer with Grade 2 offensive abilities? You don’t stand a chance in that regard.

They’re in too close of proximity to disguise your presence – cutting off your cursed energy would be pointless. There’s only one other trick up your sleeve to increase your chances of surviving if they do decide to attack again.

You feel their cursed energies so much more clearly – when you steal a glance behind yourself, you can faintly see them in the distance. Not good.

Jogo suddenly barks out a laugh. “Boss never said we couldn’t rough anybody up though, did he? Got you there, dumbass! Don’t try to stop me!”

Really not good.

There’s a sudden spike in cursed energy – and that energy is heading straight for you. You try to dodge, but your reaction is too late. You feel the heat even before the impact, and you decide you definitely need to utilize your other ability. It’s not perfect, nor is it a full-fledged technique yet, but you have little choice but to use it now.

You concentrate all your energy into the side that will take the hit, and imagine an impenetrable wall. You think of Gojo’s Infinity: the space that can never crossed, no matter how much force is exerted. You don’t have the ability to manipulate space like Gojo, but your shield imitates his impenetrability.

Jogo’s fiery body slams into your side. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, and the searing pain returns. Your shield absorbs the brunt of the strike, but you’re still knocked back at least thirty feet. You tumble into the undergrowth, your back squarely hitting a tree in your path.

You can’t stop the howl that escapes your lungs, and the ragged breathing that follows.

“They tried to stop it! It wasn’t even a fraction of my power and they couldn’t stop it! And you’re telling me that Gojo Satoru is interested in them?” Jogo howls in laughter. “How pathetic!”

At your next blink, Jogo has materialized in front of you. You weakly stagger to the side, wanting to get away but knowing you can’t deep down. They’re just toying with you – if they decided to get rid of you, they’d be able to almost instantly.

Jogo shouts loudly, “So weak it makes me sick! You can only run away, huh? Boss is right – creatures like you are disgusting.”

He rushes forward again, and you rush to encase yourself in your imperfect shield. To your surprise, you are not struck down: instead, you’re…in his arms??

“Hanami! Since you won’t let me have anymore fun, I guess we should go back,” Jogo yells across the clearing to the other Special Grade.

A burst of petals flies past your eyes; Hanami emerges from a newly-grown patch of flowers. They don’t say anything, but they approach Jogo and stand right over his shoulder. Jogo eyes Hanami suspiciously.

“Why are you hovering over me?” Jogo grumbles. “Stay away, tree hugger.”

“It’s almost as if he knew you were going to pull this,” Hanami huffs. “There’s a reason I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“They’re alive, that was the only request. Did Boss put you up to that ‘good guy’ act, huh? Agh, such arrogant scum! Thinks he can tell me what to do?”

Despite your shield, Jogo’s heat begins to affect you. You cough violently, and when you glance at your hands you see rivulets of red.

“Yes, I think that’s accurate, considering you call him ‘Boss’. Now, hand them over before they go up in flames.”

Jogo grunts unhappily, but complies. You’re transferred to the rough bark limbs of the tree cursed spirit. Hanami sighs at the sight of your angry red burns, eyeing Jogo, “Such a barbaric curse…destructive to all life and environment.”

“HAH! You-!” Jogo guffaws. “I’ve see you uproot your own forests! Environmentally friendly my ass! Shut your trap.”

You wince from his loudness.

“So obnoxious, isn’t he? Well, you’re the lucky one here - you get to take a nap,” Hanami says. “Rest well before your…‘meeting’.”

Your pulse quickens at the expression on the curse’s face: a demented sort of excitement. There’s a sweet floral smell that falls over you, and then you begin to grow sleepy. Your eyelids start to flutter as you try to fight it – but you are eventually pulled deep into a dreamless sleep.

You are roused from your sleep by the touch of another. A hand on your forehead – a comforting presence. It’s warm, and familiar. You’re about to smile widely and look deep into his crystal eyes, but when your bleary eyes begin to focus, your heart stops.

There’s an easy, gentle smile on his face. His dark eyes shine brightly, but your own can’t help but drift to the obvious surgical scar running across his entire forehead.

Your reflexes kick in: you smack his hand away, rejecting the unwanted touch, and fall into a defensive stance. He lets out a hum of amusement, but otherwise does not react.

“My old friend,” Geto Suguru coos. “How wonderful it is to see you again. Never thought I’d be able to – what a gift your presence is, my dear.”

It’s then that you realize that you’re shaking; your chattering teeth render you unable to let any words out.

“Did Jogo and Hanami rough you up again? How rude of them,” He sighs. “But don’t be scared, it’s just your old friend Suguru.”

He stops to let his eyes roam over your hunched form. A sickening smirk spreads across his face – sickening because it’s just like the sweet smiles he used to give you.

“You know, you really are the best tracker around. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Too bad I know all your little tricks, though. Did you like the surprise I set up especially for you?” He smirks. “It’s hard to catch such a talented tracker as you off guard, but I think I managed quite well. You didn’t detect a thing, did you? They were supposed to be much further away, I know…it’s fascinating, isn’t it, the feats you can achieve through sorcery?”

You only stare at him in horror.

“No? Well, I know at least Jogo enjoyed it,” He says with a soft laugh, but his next words cause icy chills to run down your spine. “But I think I enjoyed it the most. The look on your face…was perfect.”

Your stomach turns at his words. His gaze is even worse: there’s a hungry, disturbing glint to them. Your eyes flit from his sharp onyx eyes to his traditional wear: his inky yukata and gilded kasaya are elegant and beautiful, but emanate darkness.

“Forgot what I looked like? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Geto smiles. His smile is soft and almost sweet, but out of place; its familiarity makes your stomach churn.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You finally speak, voice quiet and cracking. “You shouldn’t exist.”

“That’s a bit harsh, doll. I’m not the only one who doesn’t belong in this world,” He says, lip curled in disgust. “Monkeys roam the earth. That’s more of a disgrace than my existence…I hope you’d agree.”

You only manage to gasp out, “How are you even here?”

His eyes meet yours, crinkling in a dark sort of amusement. “You’d love to know, wouldn’t you? There’s a price to pay for that knowledge, doll.”

“You’d…Geto would never hurt me,” You whimper. “Never.”

Geto just smiles. “I wouldn’t? Maybe not.”

His piercing eyes seem to see stare right through you. “But what about my best friend?”

You freeze.

“Is that such an uncomfortable thought?” He chuckles a little too lightly. “Never thought about it even once? Not even after he killed me?”

He tuts at you, clicking his tongue. “Sweetheart, I knew you were blinded by him, but never to this degree. How low you have fallen…”

He moves closer. Your breath is trapped in your lungs and you can’t move.

“One toe out of line and you might end up like me. Don’t you see?” He shakes his head.

Hot anger flashes through you, and your tongue lashes out before you can think. “One toe out of line? No. No. You committed genocide. You murdered your entire family in the name of it. For what? A delusional dream?”

He sighs. “Of course. So brainwashed…you’re practically a monkey. How disappointing. You don’t get it, do you? I was apparently his everything, and look how I ended up.”

“You’re not Geto!” You cry out. “You can’t be.”

He laughs softly, but his gaze is razor-sharp. “Are you sure these aren’t Geto’s thoughts?”

You bite your lip in nervous thought. “Ge- you…why am I here?”

He ignores your question as he begins to circle you like a hawk, eyes sharp and hungry. “You know, you’re not quite what I imagined you to be.”

You take a few tentative steps back, trying to subtly increase the distance between you and the living corpse in front of you, but he strides over to your side when he notices.

“I’m just so curious,” He says, eyes raking over your figure. “You really are (Y/N), aren’t you? Fits the descriptions…”

The blood drains from your face. You back away from his seeking hands that threaten to touch you, to investigate you.

“There’s a disgusting amount of papers with your name written all over them – I don’t think Hanami would have liked me much before. Such a waste of stationery,” He says, his twisted smirk pulling shivers down your spine. “Why was I so fixated on you? You don’t look like anything special. Don’t tell me…I actually fell for someone as plain as you?”

“What?” You breathe out, eyes wide, mouth parted in surprise. “Geto, you…he…it wasn’t like that.”

“And you didn’t even know,” He coos in faux pity. “How cruel to find out in this way. Seems like you have only ever focused on my former equal. You only pay attention to the strongest – how shallow. What did I ever see in you?”

“I- that’s not-“ You try to form a sentence, deny it, say it’s not true because it truly isn’t, but your tongue and vocal chords won’t cooperate with you.

“When confronted with the truth, humans get tongue tied,” He smiles, voice dripping with mockery. “How precious. What a good little monkey you are – so unbearably typical, so exemplary of your species.”

“Stop,” You gasp out.

“What, sweets? Can’t handle the truth?”

“Don’t call me that,” You try to say with conviction, but it leaves you weakly and softly, almost a plea.

“What, you only like it when he calls you that?” He says with a dark chuckle. “How pathetic. How much has you brainwashed you into thinking he acutally wants anything to do with you? Gojo doesn’t like to get attached. And even when he does–”

He leans forward, invading your space, pressing up too closely to your body. “–sometimes you still end up dead.”

“Stop,” You beg. “Get away from me. You’re-you’re scaring me, Suguru.”

“Am I?” He smirks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know what to do to make you forgive me, though. Used to work on Shoko, too.”

“No, stop!” You cry, ragged breaths leaving you. “This isn’t you, stop, please, stop!”

“You’re right,” He smiles wickedly, eyes dark. “It’s not.”

His lips meet yours. It burns your skin, but not pleasantly – it’s all wrong, and it hurts. You shove him away with as much force as you can, leaving him stumbling back a few paces. He laughs. He laughs.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” He chuckles, amused. “You’re stronger than you used to be. Maybe you actually live up to being Grade 1 now, huh?”

“Who are you?!” You cry out. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’m Geto Suguru,” He says with a crazed smile. “Is it that hard to believe when my body was never retrieved?”

“What do you want from me?” You snarl, growing angry. “You’ve just been toying with me, you bastard. Trying to play all these mind games on me, leaving your dirty work to your underlings. None of it feels substantial enough to kidnap me.”

A cackle escapes Geto, “You’re right, it isn’t. By yourself, you aren’t of any interest to me. Just a memento of the past – I don’t have any use for you.”

He continues with a smirk, “I have to say though, your reactions have piqued my interest slightly. Jogo seems to feel the same way. Perhaps if you could be our little monkey for entertainment - it might keep Jogo out of trouble elsewhere.”

Reduced to entertainment.

“You’re sick,” You say, shaking your head.

“Hardly. It’s only natural treatment for someone so unimportant. Should I be frank?” He asks, touching his chin to mock contemplation. “You are here solely as means of luring him out.”

You break out in a cold sweat. It was as you suspected and feared: you are only bait. Bait for the strongest.

“He won’t come,” You declare. “This is pointless.”

“Do you take me as an idiot monkey?” Geto frowns. “You’re not the only one who can read residuals. He came last time, and he will come this time.”

“He doesn’t know,” You hiss. “He won’t come. He doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Geto only smiles. “He’ll come.”

His confidence scares you. Even though it would be very unlikely Gojo is even aware that you’re away on a mission, doubt still swirls in your gut. You don’t want him to walk into this trap – who knows what Geto has planned?

While you mull over your thoughts, Geto grows impatient.

“This is quite dull. Let’s test your strength, First Grader,” He smirks. “Maybe they’ll pass you to Special Grade if you can land a single hit.”

Suddenly, your breath is stolen from you. You double over in pain, caught off guard by the assault to your stomach. It was only a kick, but it was the hardest you’ve been hit in your entire life by another sorcerer.

“Silly me, I’ve forgotten my manners,” Geto says drily. “When harkening back to our school days, I must ask if you’re ready before we spar.

But don’t forget, the enemy won’t wait for you. Didn’t we learn that?”

Satoru’s words. He would often preemptively attack before the sparring session officially began, and he would always recite those exact words. You feel sick.

You don’t respond, knowing it would take away from your focus. Instead, you concentrate on pouring your cursed energy into your hearing technique.

He begins his initial assault: he’s extremely agile, and his punches and kicks seem to come out of thin air. You anticipate his attacks with your highly developed sense of hearing, listening for each twitch of his muscles and the roar of his appendages slashing through the air. Essentially, you read his moves before he has finished them. Your body can’t always keep up with your hearing enough to avoid him, though, but the blows are lessened by your half-developed shielding.

You haven’t attempted a single hit of your own – all your energy has gone into avoiding each of his potent attacks. Every time you see an opening, your chance is ruined by another attack of his.

After a few minutes of religiously defending, your senses slow. You can hear everything, but you can’t physically keep up with him. You begin to take hit after hit after hit – until you’re forced to retreat several paces back. Blood drips from your nose, spilling into your mouth and filling your mouth with the metallic tang of iron. It tastes of defeat and cowardice.

“Are you sure you’re not a monkey?” Geto roars in laughter. “To call you a sorcerer is sacrilegious at best. How disappointing you are. Haven’t improved an ounce since our days together, have you? Other than that half-baked excuse of a technique - trying to imitate the strongest, perhaps?”

You ignore his taunts, using the time to draw out two small daggers from your sleeves. You fare better with bows, but the twin blades are better than nothing.

“What cute little pocket knives,” Geto jeers. “They look sharp.”

“Want to find out?” You growl.

He scoffs. “I’d like to see you try.”

It is a dance that never ends – you are held captive by the need to defend yourself, not able to stop without the fear of further injury. You are slowly giving up hope when time seems to slow down. Your breath hitches as you spot what you need desperately: an opening. You zero in on the opening, thrusting your right hand into the open space. A spurt of red splashes your hand – your aim was true.

You step back immediately, parrying his retaliating blow with your other blade. More droplets spill over you, a shower of red that makes you nauseous.

You’re breathing hard. You haven’t fought with a sorcerer – or even a curse – for a long time, and it’s taking more of your strength than you anticipated.

Geto doubles over, which fills you with confusion. There’s no way those two nicks did any substantial damage, so why is he hunched over in pain?

And then you hear it. Laughter. Crazed laughter erupts from him in waves. When he looks up at you, the fear in the pit of your stomach intensifies. He’s not hurt – he’s pissed off. Very.

“I have to admit, you exceeded my expectations. But that’s not saying much when I expected nothing from a dirty monkey like you,” He spits. “What a brat.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to spar like old times,” You glare, grip tightening on your daggers. “It was only per your suggestion.”

“Your insolence boils my blood…how does he care for someone like you?! How did I?!” He roars. “You are nothing!”

He rushes forward faster than you can register and knocks you to the ground. You instinctively roll out of the way and are still nearly stomped on. You try to stand up, or even just sit up, but can’t. You begin to panic – you feel frozen in place, unable to even turn your head.

“Now you can’t run away,” He growls. “Should I make it a little unbearable? You deserve it.”

You feel a great pressure forcing your body into the ground. It’s excruciating; you feel as if your bones are grinding together and all your muscles are compressed. You can’t bite back the cry that erupts from your throat.

“Now you really feel the gravity of the situation,” He says with a demented smile. “You know, maybe I don’t need you anyway. He can just come to retrieve your body. Can’t make the same mistake twice, after all. Leaving a body to rot is a vulnerability. I could fix that for him, too…leave a puddle where you used to stand? If I crush you long enough, perhaps…”

“Fuck you,” You manage to get out. “You’ll never win. You’ll never beat Satoru.”

You fall flat on your face, coughing, as you are released from his technique. You try to push yourself up, but you only manage to a kneeling position. Not that it matters anyway, not when you are grabbed by your throat and hoisted in the air.

“Do you always make so many mistakes?” He hisses. “It’s like you want me to kill you.”

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to with how hard he’s clutching your trachea. You have no idea when you dropped your blades, but they’re not in your hands now, so you have to resort to pitifully clawing at his grip with your bare hands.

Your vision begins to blur and darken as you asphyxiate. Howls of laughter ring in your ears, getting quieter and then louder as your hearing fades in and out.

Is this how it will end? No, it can’t, you can’t let it. You can’t leave yourself to die at the hands of Geto Suguru. You can’t die at the hands of your former friend, and be found by your other best friend. You can’t do that to him.

You claw harder, more desperately, even though you feel yourself weakening. It’s futile – his grip won’t even loosen at your efforts.

You have to use your weaker technique. If you do it perfectly, it might propel him from your body, giving you a chance to escape. Escape to where, you don’t know, but you need to try. You don’t have any chance otherwise.

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you had, you focus all of your cursed energy into the skin that is touching Geto. Your close your eyes, visualizing the perfect invisible wall that encases Gojo – no flaws, no gaps, no way to get past – and then you release your energy.

There’s a loud smack that resonates through the air, and then you crumple to the ground. When you look up, you can see a hard shell jutting between you and Geto, effectively shielding you. Geto is clutching his arm, which is now red and swollen.

You actually did it. It was a perfect use of your technique.

“You are frustrating, but no matter. I have other methods at my disposal. Didn’t think I’d have to pull this on you, but you seem to be begging for your demise, so I might as well use it,” He grits his teeth, and holds one arm out, his forearm curling up.

A ball of black energy appears at his fist. It is nebulous and shifts as it grows bigger. It begins to glow as time passes, as it amasses more energy. You have no idea what that is, but you highly doubt your shield will be able to block it. As you think about your options, your shield begins to fade away – you are nearly out of cursed energy. You are wide-eyed as you watch the last sections of your shield dissipate to nothing.

Entirely defenseless, you heave yourself to a standing position and try to stumble away. You fall to one knee in agony – Jogo and Geto have taken a toll on you.

You look over to see the ball of darkness leave Geto’s fingers. You are frozen, knowing you can do nothing, but also knowing you will die if you do nothing.

It approaches, and you close your eyes. Hopefully it will completely destroy you in a single instant, so it won’t be torturous. At least you won’t be in pain for long.

It’s going to hit you. And then you suppose it does. You feel weightless, like you weigh nothing. Perhaps your body has been destroyed, and this is how your brain is processing the absence of your nerve endings.

But if you are not here anymore, why does the wind whip through your ears?

You were mistaken. You don’t just feel weightless, you are weightless.

When you open your eyes, tears spill out at the sight in front of you. Tousled white hair, a blindfold tucked over his eyes, rigid determination showing through his features.

“I didn’t know this is where we were holding the school reunion. Class of ‘007, except Geto went all rogue and didn’t end up graduating. What a failure!”

His words are playful, and he’s smiling, but somehow his tone doesn’t match. It’s serious and dark, not at all jocular. He seems to be making an effort to keep up his lighthearted persona, but his true feelings can’t help but bleed out.

“Ah, you finally showed up,” Geto cackles. “It’s not good to have a weakness. I was about to do you a favor.”

Gojo laughs bitterly, “Don’t you know? Strength comes from weaknesses. Not that you would understand.”

“In any case…” He looks down at you. “I won’t let you take away my strongest weakness.”

next part

a/n 2.0: Okay so, idk how it 100% is in the manga bc I haven’t read it, but basically this ‘Geto’ (*cough* Kenjaku) has thoughts that are Kenjaku but with some of Geto’s memories ?? .. sorry if that’s non canon heehee

Bonus!!: Also I’ve been learning some Japanese so here is Gojo’ name spelled out: ごじょさとる。This is more for my own enjoyment 🫣 but here you go lol

tag list: @thenyxsky, @whitehairedtwink, @screwyou3

also thank you @zoyatoshi for your such sweet reblogs 🥹🥹 literally inspired me to finish this chapter up after 6+ months !!

#gojo satoru x reader #reader needs a hug #gojo satoru needs a hug #geto suguru #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk angst #angst/comfort #hurt/comfort #geto suguru needs a hug but he’s not getting one

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still-not-over-transformers · 9 months

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@kitgirl91 Request

I lost the original request message but I had a screeenshot :3

Ain’t I Good to You?

(TFA Blitzwing x Female Human Reader)

Warnings: None other than intense simping :3

Word Count: ... 2400+ (I got a tad carried away)

Lingo: “Cher” (pronounced ‘sha’) = Cajun term of affection/endearment

To those unfamiliar, Blitzwing’s 3 personalities are known as Icy, Hothead, & Random

Art courtesy of my beloved requester: @kitgirl91 BEHOLD THE TALENT

Inspiration for this request: The Mask Soundtrack - Susan Boyd - Gee Baby, Ain't I Good To You

The Decepticons had been promptly defeated at the hands of the Autobots, and brought back to Cybertron. Blitzwing was one of said Decepticons to be humiliated by being paraded through the streets of Cybertron as prisoners. But the Triple-changer would shortly make his escape and give the guard the slip, stealing a small ship and setting course for the only planet he knew had no Autobot activity anymore: Earth.

After entering stasis, a few months later Blitzwing would awaken after crash landing on Earth. This time however, Blitzwing would find himself not in New Detroit, but in good old New Orleans, Louisiana. The Decepticon didn’t want to attract too much attention to himself, and immediately searched for a place to hide, and or blend in with. As he still retained his Earth-based alt-modes as a jet or tank, he chose to sneak into a nearby river-side Air Force base. He transformed into his jet-mode as he tried to brainstorm a plan. He would remain there for a few months, having little idea on how to proceed further, and he went into a deep stasis nap. Blitzwing would be slowly awakened one Saturday night to music and an upbeat yet hauntingly beautiful voice. Blitzwing transformed to see a riverboat slowly cruising down the bayou, warm lights illuminating the water as upbeat music echoed across the river, and a sensual and hypnotic voice filled the night. It was a new experience for the Decepticon, and for the first time Blitzwing was silent and listened until the music and that voice faded into the distance.

The following week was uneventful as usual, Blitzwing growing evermore displeased that he lacked a plan. As the afternoon sun sailed across the sky, Blitzwing took note of a female human making their way through the airbase. This human caught his eye, as she was not dressed in the usual military uniforms of the soldiers or mechanics. Being in the back area of the base, and being utterly bored out of his mind, Blitzwing decided to have a bit of fun.

You made your way through an array of various military vehicles and aircrafts, all stunning and huge, dwarfing you easily. The air was growing cooler as an Autumn breeze blew through, making you clutch tighter at your coat. A loud clang rang out to the side and you struggled to see anyone through a lineup of various fighter jets and helicopters. Curiosity got the better of you and you stepped to the side to investigate, “Hello?” A rather large fighter jet was before you, but something was off about it as its coloring did not match any of the other similar models.

Suddenly the jet moved swiftly, lifting upright before transforming completely into a massive winged tan robot. Its face spun around rapidly, settling on a cool bluish face with a red optic and one monocle-like optic, staring down at you expectantly. Despite the shock, you just stood there calmly looking at him.

Blitzwing’s gaze was fixed upon you, raising an optic ridge in curiosity, “You are not afraid, human? How curious you’ve no concern for your own life.” Again, his faceplate spins violently, revealing the black faceplate and scarlet red crazed jack-o-lantern optics and mouth of Random. He cackles in an excited and mildly psychotic tone, “This human is crazy! I like crazy…” Round and round Blitzwing’s faceplate spins, now revealing Hothead, his bright red faceplate and optics glaring down at you. He aggressively moves towards you, his optics obscured by a visor, but the angry expression on his face was easily readable, “Are you working with ze Autobots, human?! That’s why you aren’t cowering in fear, isn’t it!?”

You raise your hands up in a gesture of innocence, hoping to convince the massive robot before you you weren’t any threat, “I have no idea what an ‘Autobot’ is. I’m not really sure what you are to be honest.”

“Why then are you not frightened of me? Do I look like I’d want to be friends with ze likes of you?” Icy said calmly, although in his mind he was genuinely intrigued by the fearless organic before him. Blitzwing’s face spun again, “OOOOOH Maybe we can make friendship bracelets!” Hothead took over and again, he spoke aggressively towards you, “What is a puny human like you even doing walking around in a military airbase?!”

You paused before explaining yourself, “Oh, well I was finishing up details regarding an upcoming job. Going to perform next month here to boost morale for the troops. Had to sign a bit of paperwork regarding my pay.”

The calm Icy took over and raised an optic ridge curiously, “Vat kind of performance?”

“I’m a Jazz singer. Not sure if you’d know what Jazz is, or music… but it’s my profession and most importantly my passion. I’m finally booking more gigs, last weekend was my first time performing on a riverboat. It was magical if I’m honest,” you spoke candidly, finding Blitzwing’s accent to be slightly adorable.

“Vait…” Icy glances over at the nearby river on the other side of the river-side airbase, “Zat was your voice I heard?”

You were taken aback, “You heard me? How long have you been hiding in this airbase?”

“...Long enough. Ze music was… acceptable. And your voice… wasn’t displeasing” Icy said slowly, perhaps giving you a hesitant compliment.

You smiled slightly, finding this strange giant robot to be rather endearing. “You know I will be performing this evening at “The Cat’s Meow” Jazz Club. It’s an outdoor venue, so you’re welcome to come if you’d like.” You extend your hand towards Blitzwing, a silver ticket stub in your grasp.

Icy took a pause, considering whether or not to accept the ticket, before Random took over and eagerly snatched the ticket from your hands. “How could ve refuse such an offer!” he chuckled excitedly.

You stepped back briefly as the ticket was taken from your hands, but you couldn’t help but smile, “I can see you aren’t one to pass a good time up. I should probably be on my way and get ready for the show. You know, I didn’t catch your name, cher?”

The Decepticon was shocked at how calm and comfortable you were around him, after all he was a battle-hardened warrior, killer and a giant robot, yet you showed him such courtesy as if he were just another human. “Oh… Blitzwing…” he replied hesitantly, feeling almost compelled to tell you.

“Well Blitzwing, if anyone gives you trouble at the door, cher, just tell them you’re a guest of (Y/N)” you flashed a sincere but slightly coy smile at the Decepticon before giving him a friendly wave of your hand and making your way off of the military base.

Blitzwing stood there in silent shock as you left, leaving him burning with multiple questions. “Cher? This word is strange” Icy pondered, a servo on his chin. His faceplate spun and Random took over, “Perhaps it’s a human word for cute!” Icy presented himself once more, staring at the ticket in his servo, your invitation still standing. He could just crush the ticket and be done withy it, but there was something about you…

Night fell on New Orleans, and the city came alive with lights, and hundreds of people flocking to the streets to enjoy various events and libations. High in the sky, Blitzwing hovered in jet-mode above the outdoor venue of “The Cat’s Meow.” After a bit of convincing himself, Blitzwing found the courage to land and enter the Jazz club. The bouncer at the door was definitely not expecting a Decepticon to attempt entry to the club, but he stood his ground and sweatily asked to see a ticket.

Usually, it would be Blitzwing’s instinct to blast the human into smithereens, but that would undoubtedly sour the mood for the evening. Instead he presented his silver ticket and spoke, “I am here upon ze request of (Y/N).” The doorman accepted the ticket hesitantly, before allowing the Decepticon entry into the club, but directing him to enter around to the outdoor section to spare the roof.

After making his way around, Blitzwing entered the outdoor space, which was an array of various tables covered in rich red linens. The area was illuminated by various lights wrapped around trellises and trees, a wooden stage centered at the back, the musicians settling into their positions. Blitzwing looked down at the table below him, awkwardly lowering himself into a sitting position behind the table, his massive frame still towering above it. Blitzwing couldn’t help but feel foolish being here to see a human perform, and it took hours of self-convincing earlier in order to get his aft here.

“I have no idea how I talked myself into this…” Icy grumbled, his arms crossed. “PLEASE! This is not ze craziest thing we’ve done by far!” Random cackled before going silent as the lights dimmed, leaving one blinding spotlight on center stage.

There you were, standing in the blinding glow of the spotlight. Your hair was down, but a delicate headpiece of beaded pearls adorned your forehead. Your dress was an ebony color, with a sensual sweetheart neckline and a short hem lined with glittering beads that cascaded from the hem. The ebony color was accentuated by the sparkle of thousands of tiny sequins, which reflected the spotlight and made you shimmer. You turned towards the band members behind you and gave them a nod, cueing them to begin playing a smooth yet upbeat Jazz number, the mood set by the sound of trumpets and a piano. You slowly took hold of the microphone and began singing, your voice sultry and alluring.

Blitzwing’s optics widened to a point where they nearly burst out of his skull, and his jaw unhinged and was wide open as he struggled to process how stunning you were. This was the same human he met at the airbase? Your voice, your lips, your legs, that dress were all enough to nearly fry his processor circuitry and drive him wild. His faceplate was spinning between all three personalities, each one absolutely shaken by everything about you.

“She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen…” Icy gawked, short of words.

“IT IS LIKE BEING GRACED WITH ZE PRESENCE OF AN ANGEL!” Hothead exclaimed, looking like he wanted to break something.

Random’s glossa was hanging out of his mouth, completely drunk off of your beautiful body and hypnotic voice.

The song continued, and you began to move around the stage, your hips moving in time with the beat. You dipped down to the ground, before slowly standing up, swishing your hips and waist as you ascended.

This sent Blitzwing over the edge, and Random loudly whistled at you, having quickly become a complete simp. Hearing the cat call, you turned your attention to see the Decepticon at his table. Continuing your set, you smiled in his direction before pointing to him and blowing a kiss.

Random took over and stood up, whistling even louder in adoration and worship of you, “Keep it UP BABY!”

The song slowly came to its final portion, albeit to Blitzwing’s dismay as he wanted this to go on forever. With a final breath, the last lyrics left your painted lips and the song concluded. The resounding sound of applause filled the club, the loudest clapping being from Blitzwing’s massive metal servos. As the rest of the club patrons applauded your performance, Blitzwing’s sharp optics spotted one human patron who wasn’t participating.

Hothead’s face spun around, steam visibly leaving his nostrils as he stomped over to the unsuspecting patron, startling the man, “YOU’D BETTER START CLAPPING BEFORE I MAKE YOUR INSIDES YOUR OUTSIDES!” The unsuspecting critic nearly jumped out of his skin and began clapping for his life.

As the cheers continued, audience members began tossing flowers onto the stage. Icy took note of this and began formulating a plan.

After you had made your way back to your dressing room, there was a firm knock at the door. Out of curiosity, you opened it to see who it was, only to be pleasantly surprised to see a certain Decepticon gazing back at you.

Blitzwing was blushing madly, especially being so close to you when you looked so beautiful. He cleared his throat, his faceplate spinning to Icy, trying to get the courage to speak to you. “Your show was… more than words than express. You are ze most talented and beautiful thing I have laid optics on. I got something for you” his voice was oddly shaky. He knelt down and revealed a massive bundle of roses and vines from behind his back, the flowers taking up a quarter of your dressing room. “I saw flowers are a sign of worship, so I brought you all ze flowers from the garden.”

You were stunned by the gift, it being obvious that Blitzwing had removed the roses from the nearby trellises. You tried to stifle a laugh and flashed the biggest grin, “That is mighty sweet of you, cher. To think you actually came to see me and shower me with so much praise.”

“You are a GORGEOUS LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS. I WILL BREAK DOWN MOUNTAINS FOR YOU!” Hothead expressed passionately.

“Oh my…” you giggled, “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” You stepped closer to the massive Decepticon before you, closing the distance. “For being so sweet, I think you deserve a little something as well,” your voice was charismatic and smooth. You leaned in closer to his faceplate, and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

His faceplate spun around and around and around… for what seemed like an eternity. An excited and loud laugh escaped from Blitzwing’s mouth, Random’s optics wide and his spark beating rapidly. So many thoughts and feelings flashed through his processor that he felt he might explode, “I FEEL LIKE I’VE FLOWN TO ZE MOON AND BACK!” His optics turn back towards you and he suddenly calms himself, maybe a little worried he might frighten you. His faceplate reverts back to Icy and he clears his throat, “...ahem.. My apologies, sometimes I get carried away.”

Your smile widened, finding his antics to be endearing. “Don’t sweat it, cher. You’re more than welcome to come to any of my shows in the future,” you spoke softly. “Now why don’t you and I get out of here. Maybe let me show you around town?”

Blitzwing was in absolute awe. You, this tiny human female stealing every one of Blitzwing’s sparks.

Of course he took you up on your offer.

*END*

I had WAY too much fun with this request. :3 I pray it was worth the wait!

#transformers #transformers animated #transformers animated blitzwing #tfa blitzwing #tfa blitzwing x reader #tfa #transformers reader insert #transformers x reader #transformers x reader insert #transformers oneshot #transformers animated insert #tfa reader insert #blitzwing #transformers blitzwing #jazz

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cloveroctobers · 7 months

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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 8. Hector

A/N: the way I always had something in the drafts to write for my beloved man like back during the summer time. The universe had other plans and what better time than to revisit this episode on Halloween! I think this is my first time ever writing on the day of this superior season?! Happy Halloween people 🧡 🪄

WARNINGS: language + hints of sexual tension 😅

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: “I love you, I swear I do but we’re not wearing matching costumes.”

₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚

[~October. 2000’s~]

Oh the wonders of being a big time celebrity during the month of Halloween. That’s right, a whole entire month! Which felt like so because you were constantly in the limelight with people not only dissecting your love life but also your roles which consisted of either being the lead scream queen in a thriller series, supporting actress in horror movies, and also being the star drummer (on some Sheila E shit!) and backup singer of a Alt-Pop girl band on the side.

So yes, you stayed busy and were worth talking about.

“Whatever you decide to be this year has to be big. I mean Destiny’s child, Britney Spears, Zac and Vanessa, and Halle Berry are all gonna be here at your party this year.” Your manager/publicist ranted as she paced the floor in your open concept closet.

You’re lounging on your studded chaise lounge chair, texting away on your blackberry while chewing on some gum, half listening, “Halle’s my god-mom, of course she will be here to support but who else is on this list exactly?”

“I invited pretty much everyone, the hottest stars even those who may or may be in your age range. It doesn’t matter! As long as you get good pics that brings fresh press.” Natania voiced as she began flipping through a notepad.

You hum knowing the deal, considering you’ve been in the limelight since you were fourteen so this was not anything entirely new. “I’ve got the perfect outfit for Hector and I.”

Natania glances up from writing, “funny you mention him after I say press.”

“Him has a name and who also happens to be my boyfriend?”

“Don’t remind me,” Natania mutters, “and just to think you could still be with Taylor Lautner right now. His stats are only climbing after ‘Breaking Dawn Part I,’ dropped and I can only imagine how much more attention he’s gonna get.”

Shrugging your shoulders you say, “I’ve got more than enough attention with and without a guy by my side. It was fun while it lasted but as soon as he booked the role for twilight, the distance just grew. It was all only a matter of time.”

At sixteen and seventeen years old you got into a relationship, naturally with who everyone may know as Jacob Black but he was just Taylor to you. You met way back in a martial arts class that your uncle actually taught but you didn’t end up sticking with it thanks to a tv series you booked. You met again not long after at a audition for “Sharkboy and LavaGirl.”

“Well the both of you could have at least faked it for a little!” Natania almost stomped her feet before sighing, “I mean Taylor still talks highly about you although you decided to pick a old paparazzi instead as your new fling.”

“I wouldn’t expect him to say anything less,” you blinked, “wasn’t a bad break up anyway and I don’t pay you to make judgements on who I date. I pay for you to manage my career, not my personal life, sooo mind yours.”

Natania rolled her eyes beneath her glasses, “whatever, you’re right. I’m just saying you could have done better. There’s just something off about him—Hector and not the whole follow people like you around for cash either.”

“Nat!” You hissed, “shut up already, hector’s coming over, he’s gonna be at that party with me and that’s that. When’s the stylist coming over?”

Natania puts on a forced smile and glances at the watch on her wrist, “in about a hour.”

“Great! Hector says he’ll be here in fifteen so that gives us a little down time. You can let yourself out whenever you’re ready.” You state laying back to rest your eyes.

You’ve been up since six thirty this morning doing a extreme workout routine you didn’t like with a trainer who took it too seriously. You were more of a cardio person than juggling ropes, jumping and squatting, and flipping over tires.

Soon the door bell rings and you pry one eye open to see the monitor by the door glowing, making you aware who it could be. Groaning you took your time getting closer to the screen, seeing no one there. Shrugging to yourself, you plopped down on the lounge just as your closet door budged open revealing your stylist and no other than your boyfriend, Hector.

Lounging on your elbows you smile and wave at the two.

“No, please. Don’t get up, I got it.” Your stylist wheeled in a rack while you laughed at the usual sarcasm.

“Hey, baby.” You craned your neck to meet Hector’s lips as he leaned over you in greeting before sitting next to you, “what happened to fifteen minutes?”

Hector laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck, knowing that he was late, “traffic? Even on my bike and Hunger…”

You hum at this.

“Just burgers.” Hector whispers as you shrug your shoulders.

You knew what it was like, actually dating someone in the supernatural world. It could always go one or two ways and of course there were heavy rumors surrounding Hector since he was there at the time of Mazey Day’s death. He should have been dead—especially with the amount of damage done to his body, you knew what he and Bo were up to and the pictures Bo showed you was not something you would forget.

However Hector was meant to live and see it through…and he did with the help of your family.

They got to him first.

That’s right, a long history of, “werewolf or wolf training,” depending on which form. You had more experience with simply wolfs while the higher skilled like your parents and siblings dealt with the werewolf’s. Due to your involvement with the spotlight you didn’t have much time for…family activities but you weren’t completely clueless.

If you were able to get to Mazey Day in time, perhaps things could have been different. No one really knew and some still didnt accept what it was.

Werewolves were fucking real and you so happened to be dating one.

“Soooo,” you drag pushing yourself up once more to face Hector with a tired smile, “I’ve got an idea of what we should be for Halloween.”

“Aw but you didn’t see what Freddie brought yet.”

“Oh it’s in there alright,” you push off the chair to head over to Freddie who has measuring tape draped over his shoulders.

You do the honors of taking the protective cover off the clothes and run your fingers over the various fabrics, “we have DoubleDare contestants from the 90s, or you can be Cupid and I’ll be a large fuzzy heart, or my personal fav: little red riding hood and her werewolf of a grandmother.”

Hector blinks after briefly studying the costumes and says, “I love you, I swear I do but we’re not wearing matching costumes.”

“Uh oh,” Freddie mutters while you frown at the curly haired man.

“And why the hell not? The last option is the best one.”

“I get that one,” Hector replies with a knowing look in his dark eyes, “but don’t you think it’s a little…corny?”

“We’re supposed to be corny! You’re my boyfriend and I’m your girl.” Digging your fists into your hips and peer at Hector who snorts.

“Yeah but—

“At least try it on! I mean if we’re gonna be at my party together shouldn’t we at least match?”

Hector lightly grips your wrist to pull you from Freddie’s ear shot, “it’s gonna be a full moon that night.”

“Even better.”

“For who? Not me.”

“It’s been a year already,” you slip your hand down to squeeze his, “you’re gonna be fine.”

“That’s not what your mom believes.” Hector’s shoulders almost slump, which irritates you, the fact that your mother was always getting into his head was not something foreign to you but when she started to do it to people you cared about, that’s when it became a problem.

“Newsflash, she doesn’t know everything like she claims.”

“I mean I should listen to her since…”

“Since she’s more skilled than me? Ah alright well I get it. Look, I’m not gonna peer pressure you. I just know I wouldn’t have you here if I didn’t think you could handle it. We’d take all the proper precautions a few days before just like I planned but if you really don’t feel comfortable…we’ll just make sure to take the pictures in advance and we’ll go from there.”

Hector studies you then. He knew that it was hard to be around each other sometimes whenever the moon shifted. He was thankful he got another chance at life…sure but life just become a whole lot more difficult now with this new lifestyle and being legit involved with someone in the public eye. No doubt he’s thought about it before but never pictured it happening and Bo also told him it was a bad idea after figuring out that he basically resurrected and could transform into a hairy ass creature!

You lived one way and he lived another, there were contrasts to you just like the sun and the moon, the pair of you worked taking turns to let the other breathe separately. Space was efficient when it came to your relationship but when you were together? That opened up a whole new feeling. A scary one. He wasn’t sure if this relationship would be long term but he had the chance to see you for what you are beyond the lights and that was a treat in itself.

He exhales, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face, “…let’s try these costumes on then.”

And you squeal, hopping into his arms and he holds onto you as you lock your legs around his hips, his beaming smile meeting yours as you peck all along his handsome face.

“We look foolish,” Hector comments as he readjusts the gingham hat on top of his head while you stand side by side in a full length mirror.

You laugh as you wrap your arms around the curly haired man in the floral green nightgown, “correction: we look fine as hell.”

“Fine enough to where I don’t need to spend two hours sitting in a chair having ass cramps and getting wolf prosthetics on?” Hector slips on his circular glasses and peeks over them at your reflection.

Red was certainly your color.

You snort, “you could always let the moon do it’s thing.”

“That’s not even funny.”

Pressing your chin against the back of his shoulder you say, “Wanna give me a little snarl or something?”

Hector sends you a pointed look as you trail one hand up to twist one of his damp curls, “Oh Granny, what pretty curls you have.”

“All the better for you to tug my dear,” Hector begins to play along.

A smirk makes its way onto your red painted lips, “Oh granny, what a beautiful face you have.”

“All the better for you to,” Hector starts before quickly twisting his body to yank you tight against his body, “sit on.”

You see the specs of ember swirling in Hector’s ink eyes now and you know you were pushing it as the length of his nails began to poke at the fabric of your red hood.

He then places a open mouthed kiss to your beating throat, “you didn’t say anything about my teeth.”

Standing up some with your hands locked around his neck now, you lean just a bit closer so that your forehead presses against Hector’s; you reply just as some knocks sounded at your closet door, “Now that’s satire.”

Hector let’s out a small laugh as you untangle yourself from his grasp to get the door, making a show of pointing the makeup artists in his direction only.

With your confidence in him and against the full moon, Hector can’t help but to shrug his shoulders and take a seat peeking at the face he got used to over the years. Somehow even this skin felt different and not just the scars embedded.

He just hoped you were right but knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Well…here’s to a new change of course for Halloween! That might actually be terrifying but as long as he had you on his team, his doubts and speculations from outsiders—which he used to be—didn’t seem to matter as much anymore.

₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

#black mirror #halloween writing prompts #black mirror mazey day #mazey day #black mirror Hector #danny ramirez #Danny Ramirez x reader #october prompts #Spotify

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lil-doodle-noodle · 5 months

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NO NAME AU

(HORROR AU)

CREATURES

Poppy: In the kitchen, making delicious pies! Who doesn't want a pie made out of the small people running around like mice? Her mouth is usually closed, opening to show a mouth wider than it should be.

Howdy: Long arms, like a spider, and moth wings that bled into his surroundings. He can easily catch you off guard, often diving silently, so watch out. He can be spotted around a light source, knowing folks feel safer under the beam. Though hard to see, you can usually tell it's him by his beady eyes that seem to glow.

Barnaby: Rough fur, cold body, torn scalp... It was like a walking corpse. He roams around wherever he pleases, often being heard by his heavy footsteps or breathing. He smells like rotting flesh, a human heart beating slowly in his chest.

Julie: A girl without eyes, using her flowers to see. They are scattered everywhere, even in places flowers usually wouldn't be. Nowhere is safe from one growing. Keep an eye out, these flowers can capture and hold.

Eddie: He is the most sane looking out of all of them, having a relatively normal appearance, aside from having no mouth. He is known as a “gentle giant”, but he is merely tricking you. He waits for you to get close enough before snatching you and taking you to Home.

Home: An unknown entity who had begun to leak through the house that Wally had once lived in. A being who had fully manifested over many nights, eventually becoming powerful enough to make a few changes.

WANDERERS

Frank: A man who’s spent his time documenting every creature and its mannerisms. Very knowledgeable and is the main guy behind the planning (food, items, escape routes, safe passageways). Lost Eddie.

Sally: The scavenger. She is the leader of the folks tasked with going out for supplies, food, medicine ingredients. She is in charge of keeping everyone in order inside the safety of their camp, as well. Lost Julie.

Wally: The lookout. Wally suffers from insomnia, usually leading him to being the watchful eye during the night, when everyone is asleep. When he does sleep, however, it isn't long before the nightmares come. Usually stays in the camp unless told otherwise. Lost Barnaby.

Y/N: Helps around whenever they can. Can usually be seen by the two leaders or the watch out. Almost fell for Eddie’s gentle lie. Doesn't remember where they came from, but they were found unconscious and brought back to camp.

STORY

Welcome Home was a normal neighborhood, though it was media. The characters were not aware of such information, assuming they were real. One night, behind the set, some kids thought it would be fun to summon a demon. They did not know of the reality of what they saw as puppets. They did not know they had lives in a seemingly other world.

When they did it, it didn't seem like anything happened. But it did. And they were the first victims.

When the demon was summoned, it had appeared in the world of Welcome Home, leaking out of Wally’s Home like tar. It was worrying to the neighborhood, especially to Wally. Home never sounded like it used to, sounding more… unsettling. Over the days, the demon claimed lives in the real world, growing more powerful with each soul. Those kids that had summoned it now serve, possessed, bringing new souls for it to consume.

Once day, it had grown powerful enough to change things, able to feed off of the negative energies. It had waited long enough to change even living creatures. The neighborhood turned into a world of a nightmare. It was always dark, the world seemed to tower over the neighbors.

The souls fed to the demon were used as puppets for the entity, capturing several of the neighbors before they understood what was happening. Only Sally, Frank, and Wally were left, having watched their beloved community change into monsters. The captured were taken to Home, where it painfully changed them into who they were not.

They grew and changed. If you listen closely, some say you can still hear their screams when you look into their eyes.

The survivors, or “wanderers”, built a camp in a place far from Home. It was in a hollow, covered by bushes and fallen leaves. To their confusion, new folks appeared, who had no idea where they had come from. The folks were often found unconscious and brought back to camp.This is Home’s doing. He wanted new toys and didn't want to transform these beings immediately, though this is not the case for all sacrifices from the real world.

#welcome home #welcome home au #au #my au #no name au

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ofliterarynature · 6 months

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OCTOBER 2023 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok no thanks (reread) book club* DNF]

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I am getting to this SO LATE, forgive me if I don't say a lot because I have forgotten so much. Work has eaten all of my time and energy against my will (should I get a new job? Probably). Anyways.

The Hourglass Throne - Will definitely need to reread this before the next book comes out (even thought they're all pretty well self contained for a series!) because WHAT? I have only half an idea what's going on, and no idea how to feel about the ending. Do I grieve? Not grieve? ??????? I think book 2 is still my favorite, but these books are addictive and a joy to read.

The Magicians of Caprona - I think at this point it's fair to say that I don't think DWJ could write a book that is uninteresting to read, but this is definitely my least favorite of at least the Chrestomanci books so far.

Realm of Ash - book 2 of the Books of Ambha series; I didn't like the first book in this series, why did I continue? Hope, that it would build on the things in the first book that I actually liked, and bring the sisters back together. It was better, I guess, but not in any way that really made me like it. I wish I'd followed my impulse and returned it to the library without listening.

A Murderous Relation - another Veronica Speedwell mystery, reliably enjoyable as always :)

Small Miracles - This was a DELIGHT. This was a fun romp (I'm told) in the vein of Good Omens, but with small stakes - and small miracles. The fallen angel of petty temptations is hired by an angelic friend to help the most sinless (and miserable) mortal have a little fun. But there's more to it than meets the eye, and the case gets tangled up the mortal woman's niece, pretending to be a school counselor, difficult family relationships, rants about chocolate, and inconsiderate siblings who rudely keep picking the same human gender as you. It's sweet, comforting, very queernorm, and a little romantic (f/gf)

A Conjuring of Light - I finished my Shades of Magic reread! Thank god. I was so thoroughly not impressed with books 2 & 3 this time around - they're just one book, divided in two, and I don't think it was divided in the right spot. It's so disappointing that these did not age with me, but you will also have to pry my copies away from me because they're one of the few books I've ever gotten signed in person (and the original covers are just cool). I fully intend to submit myself to the new spinoff series because hope never really dies lol.

The Twyford Code - This was such a strange and delightful book, that I'm not even sure I'm mad about the twist at the ending, I had such a good time reading it. (past me, listening: wow, this would have made such a cool fiction podcast, right? Joke's on me haha). I did honestly think I'd forgotten what this book was about for a bit, but then I was going through some old kid's books from my grandma that were *exactly* like the series in this book, and I had a big AHAH moment that delighted me.

Over My Dead Body - this was my first/nonfiction attempt at jamming in some spooky-ish books before the end of October. Overall, good. I did learn some new facts and there were some interesting parts; but I didn't always appreciate some of the author's commentary, and when it say's "America's Cemeteries," it really only means its urban cemeteries, which was a bit disappointing.

All Systems Red/Artificial Condition - Murderbot, my Beloved. rereading for the new book, and I'm trying my hardest to NOT do it on audiobook this time - and it's really worth it to read it in text, I promise, even if Kevin R Free's voice still echoes in my mind.

The Saint of Bright Doors - this was such a strange and wonderful read, I am so delighted to have read this, I love an unapologetically weird book. The vibe definitely reminds me a bit of The City & The City, or in some ways The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy; except I had other problems with those books and didn't finish them, but I did like this one. I know this won't be everyone's cup of tea, but maybe give it a shot.

Creatures of Will and Temper - another spooky book, and ooh boy could I go on an entire rant, I didn't want to finish this one but felt I had to for reasons. I'll let you look up the plot yourselves, but picture this: Victorian London, two sisters (one who likes swords!), and a whole lot of queer characters I wasn't expecting. I was delighted! Except you gradually learn every single queer character is involved with this club that has made a pact with a demon. What exactly does that mean? Who knows, because the book does not tell you until at least 3/4 of the way through, and we only have the word of the jacket copy and our sainted demon slayer, who is sketchy af the moment we get him alone. Turns out it's a chill demon who doesn't want blood sacrifice, cool cool, but maybe it should have been thought through a little more? Also the main/only successful romance in the book is between a 17 year old girl and a woman who is at minimum in her 30's, explicitly encouraged in part by the demon. hmm. Overall the writing and rest of the story was just ok, and the ending was disgustingly saccharine and just bad. Would strongly not recommend, but if someone wants my copy you're welcome to it. 2 stars.

From Below - another spooky book, and somehow still the most successful even though I didn't like it much. I almost DNF'd this in the first half, and while I wouldn't say I wish i had, I think my time could have been better spent. But really - if you are diving at an untouched ship wreck, that went missing with hundreds of unaccounted passengers and crew, in an area of the ocean entirely inhospitable to life, shouldn't one of the things you expect to find be human bodies??????? I got so worked up, lol, but once the spooky stuff started I had a better time.

The Game of Courts - new Nine World's novella! I love that Victoria takes the time to explore the various characters in her books outside of the main narrative. Getting to learn more about Conju ourside the current story was much appreciated, even if getting to see an outsider POV of earlier Kip was maybe the main draw. Probably not my favorite of the Lays novellas, but worth reading - and maybe a good starting place for those who are new to the series? Now if only I could get myself to read Derring-Do...

All the White Spaces - bookclub pick that got rescheduled to Nov (more time to reread Murderbot tho, so yay me). The description of this - trans guy on an antarctic exploration that goes wrong - sounded interesting, but it was kind of meh for me in the end. For one I was expecting more horror, but the description of "polar gothic" I've seen since really fits better. I also wasn't a fan of the supernatural explanation, and the whole thing felt hopeless from the beginning, once we got a grasp on the *actual* details of the situation, so I didn't quite know what we were here for. Not my cup of tea.

Hold Fast Through the Fire - NeoG book two!!!! This series is turning out to be very akin to the Tarot sequence in that they not perfect books or 5 stars by any means, but are so fun and addictive to read. This series is space opera, post-post-apocalypse where Earth has two colonies, and the series is about a team in the space!coast guard. Getting into the specific plot of this book isn't actually important, but there's a good 50/50 split on plot vs talking about our emotions!!! I love it, it definitely shows some improvement over book 1, even though I don't know that the author has got the POV's quite balanced out. Jenks is lucky I love her because her drama sure does keep taking over (and I cried so hard for her in this one you guys). Would recommend. Did I mention that almost everyone is queer?

Conrad’s Fate - a good book, but this is also the point where I really started questioning the recommended Chrestomanci reading order. I think chronologically it's book 2? And I'd already forgotten so much from The Lives of Christopher Chant, I do not understand and wish I'd read them chronologically. Much more fun than the Magicians of Caprona.

The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp - I was SO excited when I saw there was a new Leonie Swann being published in english, even if it wasn't the sequel to Three Bags Full (which I read last year and loved). I was even MORE excited when the book opened and was being narrated by the pet tortoise!!! Alas, it was not to last, I did not get another murder novel narrated by an animal. That being said, still pretty good, it reminded me of the Thursday Murder Club (which I liked less), but probably won't be a favorite.

DNF'S - Graveminder and The Devil and Winnie Flynn were both books I own that I tried to fit in for spooky month that did not work out. Winnie Flynn I admit I dropped almost immediately, the vibes were peak bad YA and I wasn't going to torture myself. Graveminder I tried, because I liked the idea, and it wasn't bad per-se, but something about the way it was executed (and the many many POV's) just wasn't working for me. Might fit someone else better though.

Raw Dog I really wanted to like, because the history of hot dogs and a description/ranking of hot dogs are both extremely up my alley - and I did make it 40% in! But there were just a number of factors building up against this - the author's sometimes very (overly?) sharp commentary, my lack of interest in her dysfunctional life, the lack of any comparative rating system for the hot dogs, the food waste, and the sheer number of bodily excretions used as descriptors for the food finally tipped me over the edge. I could have kept listening but I didn't really want to. Perhaps for someone, but not for me.

#book log #wrap up 2023 #2023 #books #booklr #bookblr #neog #hold fast through the fire #chrestomanci #small miracles #olivia atwater #the twyford code #murderbot #victoria goddard #over my dead body #tarot sequence #the sunset years of agnes sharp #the saint of bright doors #creatures of will and temper

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writteninlunarlight-years · 1 month

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Hi there,

i wanted to ask for a BG3 and marauders matchup if thats okay :)

Here's the stuff:

Gender:

agender (afab if that matters lol)

Pronouns:

He/they/she

Sexuality:

Queer (i like men and women and nonbinary people lol but labels always feel wrong)

Appearance:

5'7, bit chubby, shoulder length brown hair that i usually tuck behind my ears, grey blueish eyes, black nosering in my left nostril, L and R tattooed on my wrist (yes for left and right lol). I mostly wear dark academia or cottagecore style clothes, usually dark and earthy colours with the occasional blue and red.

Personality:

Gemini infp, 6w5. Im usually more shy and anxious when i first meet someone or am in a new environment, but get pretty enthusiastic and talkative once i get to know someone. Im autistic, so i can get sensory overload or just overwhelmed, and sometimes this can lead me to get panic attacks or become nonverbal. This also means that certain topics can lead me to talk for like hours, even with strangers. My love language is physical touch, i love hugs or linking arms with people, and i have a tendency to lay against someone when sitting or if im very close with someone sometimes biting them (softly i promise lol). I do struggle a lot with recognising my emotions and i dont really like fighting. I dont really talk about my feelings, mostly opinions. I am known to be very good at debates, and usually lead them at school, because i am known to be able to form logic based opinions easily. I am creative and good at analysing situation and calculating the best outcome in my head. Also im very much the oldest sibling.

Likes (at least like three things):

- books

- flowers

- music

- singing

- animals

Dislikes (at least three things):

- SPIDERS

- sweaty sticky summers

- tomatoes

- (myself lol)

Extra fun fact (this is about whoever you are describing to me):

I have a breathing problem so i basically have to tell my body to breath, it doesnt to it enough by itself lol

BG3 EXTRA-

Race:

Woodland elf

Class:

Druid

D&D alignment:

Chaotic good

Sorry for the delay! I have been having a rough 24 hours. Hopefully, after some rest, I will be able to crank out these matchups faster again! I hope this is to your liking!

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

BG3: Loyal, Regal, Protective, and Compassionate I present to you your Baldurs Gate 3 match------

Wyll Ravengaurd

I picked Wyll for you because his calm, relaxed demeanor will match your shyness and because Wyll, out of all the characters, is the most likely to just sit there and listen. There are numerous dialog options where he always wants to take the topic off of him and listen to someone else.

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

This man is a sweet bean who doesn't get much love and appreciation in the BG3 fandom. I think that stems from the slow storyline and questline.

However, he is just a gentleman who wants to protect and care for his people and those struggling.

Over time of knowing you, Wyll learns to love to dance again. He loves watching you spin around and enjoy time with him.

Will loves to listen. He would much rather sit and listen to you talk about anything you desire than dwell on his past. When he is with you, he desires nothing more than to listen to all the fun facts, quips, and stories you have.

Wyll is very protective of you, but he realizes he cannot always be there to protect you when times get hard in battle. So he makes duel dates and teaches you how to duel with his beloved rapier.

He is the most gentle being with you when you get overwhelmed or even have a breathing spell. He will help give you some privacy by casting Blur or Hadars Darkness (Let's pretend it doesn't cause damage).

If you have any special rituals to help you through your most challenging moments, he learns them by heart to be of the utmost help.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

The group was walking through the forest on its way to Baldurs Gate. You are deemed the fearless leader because you are the glue that holds everyone together. Too bad you are horrible with directions. Not that it really mattered. You had tons of friends and your partner surrounding you to help you correct your choices. Today, like any other day, you made a few mistakes, but the drawn-on 'L' and 'R' on your hands were really helping.

As you made it to what looked like an abandoned village, everyone agreed it was time to call it a day. The crew was exhausted, and Astarion looked deader than usual, even as a dead man. Setting up camp, it became apparent there needed to be more firewood and, most importantly, food. After a quick game of heads or tails with a coin, Wyll and you became the duo to save the evening, not that either of you would complain. You remembered that you heard a stream or waterfall not too far from here. Now, was it to your left or to your right? Shrugging, you chose a direction and set off with Wyll.

You two always had a calm relationship, and nothing really changed after you started dating, either. Wyll loved to listen to you and understand the inner workings of your mind. As you moved through the darkening forest, both of you realized there was no water nearby. "Y/N dear, out of curiosity, do you know where we are?" You paused, looking between the map and the area surrounding you. "Um, yes, definitely, we just need to make a." You look down at your hands, looking at the letters, "Left here and then one more left and a right, then boom, water. See, I can read a map!"

Will laughed softly, shaking his head. Following your lead, you two eventually came to a source of water. Of course, Wyll was not going to mention to you that had you just gone straight and then left originally from camp, you would have made it here faster. No, he was going to keep this to himself, seeing as you gave him the most radiant smile that could almost challenge Shadowheart's divine light. Getting lost with you would always be one of his favorite things.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(After freeing yourselves from the parasite, Wyll and you started adventuring together. Finding new wonders and beautiful places to call your own.)

Y/N: Wyll, look over there, just over the horizon. Is that a flower field?

Wyll: Why yes, my love, it sure does look like one; care to partake?

(You nod eagerly and trek to the field. Picking a good spot, you and Wyll sit down in the field, eagerly picking flowers and making a crown.)

Y/N: You know what this flower means, Wyll. (You began to inform Wyll of every single flower and herb in the field. Wyll is just staring at you lovingly.) Hey, are you listening to me?

Wyll: (He proceeded to resay everything you had just said to him.) My love, I will always listen to you.

Alrighty, with BG3 out of the way, I have a good one as well for your Marauders Era match. They are kind, understanding, protective, and very goofy.

I match you with------

Lily Evans

Lily Evans is a kind, loving soul. She is also brilliant and very understanding. Lilly does not judge anyone unless they give her a reason, and she is so supportive. Now, she does have quite the goofy side—I mean, she has, too—she's best friends with the Marauders.

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

Lily is brilliant. Many have said she is the witch of her time. Being muggle-born didn't stop her from rising to the top academically.

Due to how smart she is she loves to debate with you healthily, even if she agrees with you 100% on a topic she wants to hear all your reasonings why.

Lily definitely has that goofy, youngest-sibling energy. Being the oddball sibling, Lily would have to comfort herself with jokes and humor.

Being the youngest sibling definitely counteracts your older sibling energy. She is the Ying to your Yang when it comes to the way you two see the world.

Lily loves hanging on to you, arms linked, walking around school, or even holding pinkies to Hogsmeade.

Though Lily isn't the biggest fan of many animals besides cats, she goes to care of magical beasts with you. She trusts you will make sure she doesn't do something stupid and let her get eaten.

Lily loves to listen to you sing. Nothing makes her happier than you two sneaking into the prefect bathroom and listening to you sing in the echoey room.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

You sat by the black lake, staring James Potter down. It was you and Lily versus him and Remus. The debate today is why any witch or wizard would learn dark magic. This conversation stemmed from Sirius's quick departure not even ten minutes prior due to something happening to his brother. There was speculation that the family had begun to bring the boys into more darker things. Being the black sheep, Sirius wanted out and moved in with James; however, Regulus wasn't so lucky, you all assumed.

The debate grew heated as you debated why a family would teach their child these spells but that no family should teach them. James' take on the idea was that they were bad news if a person even thought about learning the spells. Lily and Remus interjected occasionally as you two debated; however, it was clear you and James didn't need help. In theory, you were both saying the same thing, just slightly different flavors. The natural nail in the coffin for this debate was when James repeated the point you made ten minutes ago back to you but in his own words.

This caused both of you to stop and stare at one another. An exhausted Remus said, "Lily, you owe me ten gallons. It took them eight minutes longer than you thought it would take them to realize they were saying the same thing." Lily shrugged and coughed up the money, returning to her place beside you and wrapping her arm around your waist. "Best eight gallons I have ever spent seeing my partner speak so passionately on behalf of our dear friend." James turned to look at Remus, "Don't tell me you two bet on who would win the argument-" You quickly interjected James. "It wasn't an argument. You git. It was a debate. Get it right." Lily laughed gently and kissed your cheek lovingly. "That's it, my love. Show him who's boss."

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(Summer had approached, and you all were staying at James' family home. The only problem was it was hot, way too hot. Luckily, James had a brilliant idea)

Y/N: If it gets any hotter, I will melt, I can feel myself melting.

James: No Y/N, that's called sweat. I thought you were smart or something. Anyway, everyone come grab your respective colored water balloon's. It is time for war.

(Everyone grabs a balloon. What Sirius did not inform James was the fact the balloons were filled with not only cooled water but coloring as well)

Lily: Alright, everyone, on the count of three....1.....2.....3.

(By the end of the fight, everyone was colored from head to toe in a rainbow of water.)

Lily: Hey, Y/N, come over here.

Y/N: What up, Lills?

(Lily leans in and kisses you gently)

Lily: Look, babe, we made purple.

Y/N: What a fantastic way to cool down.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #wyll x reader #lily evans #mauraders #marauders x reader #marauders era #match up #head canon #x reader #lily evans x reader #the marauders

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the-hole-in-terzos-shoe · 1 year

Text

If you had Life Eternal

Corny title, I KNOW ok? 🤪 I wrote this in like an hour at 1:00am! This started simply as a thought I had about a different take on the lyrics for this song. Just some angst that ends with Cardinal confessing his feelings for Reader.

Tw: the Papas are dead :/ Bonus tho: picture whichever Papa you'd like ❤️

• • •

"Cardinal?" you ask, gently pushing open his cracked office door.

"Ah, sì! Come in, Sorella!"

His cheery demeanor always made you feel welcome.

"Could I, uhhh... Could I show you something, Cardinal? I was wanting your opinion."

He could tell you were more nervous than usual, about what he couldn't guess, you had always been quite comfortable around one another since you'd started spending time together. You hadn't known him very well before... Well, before Sister Imperator had taken your beloved Papa from you.

"Of course, (Y/N), come, sit," he waves you towards the chair in front of his desk.

You quickly shut his office door and seat yourself opposite him. "Well, um, I'm sure you know it's coming up on another anniversary since..." The words die in your throat as you crinkle a piece of paper in your hands.

"Sì, mia cara, I know." The anniversary of the Papas' passing. Copia looks at you with genuine sympathy in his eyes; he couldn't imagine losing someone as close as you had.

"Well I wrote this for him. For Papa." You throw the paper on the desk.

The Cardinal awkwardly reaches out for it, somehow managing to stammer even in silence. His eyes carefully move over the tear stained scrawl on the delicate fibers.

"Can you hear me say your name forever?

Can you see me longing for you forever?

Would you let me touch your soul forever?

Can you feel me longing for you forever, forever?

I know the light grows darker down below

But in your eyes it's gone before you know

This is the moment of just letting go

If you had life eternal..."

Copia looks up at you when he finishes reading, "It's-"

"I know it's not much, but you're so good with words, Cop- I mean, Cardinal. I just thought you would know best," you blurt out.

"Cara, what I was going to say is that it is beautiful. I think it's a perfect dedication to your Papa."

"Well, he was everyone's Papa." You cast your eyes down at the floor.

"Sì, but you were especially close with him, and everyone knows how fondly he thought of you."

You're unable to look back up at him, knowing that if you do, you'll lose all composure. "Thank you, Cardinal." You quickly dismiss yourself from the room that suddenly felt so stuffy, leaving your note behind.

• • •

A few months later, you were invited to an open rehearsal for the Ghost Project. They're getting ready to leave for tour in a few weeks immediately following the release of the new album, so everything was pretty much polished; they just like to let the Siblings of Sin, high clergy, and any other ghouls and people belonging to the ministry hear their new music before everyone else.

You'd been lucky enough to get a preview of a few songs through the Cardinal, but you insisted he not give you too much special treatment, wanting to wait for their ministry gig.

The performance is so fun, as always, everyone singing along to songs that they already knew, and listening intently for the unfamiliar ones that they knew would become their new favorites! However, something strikes a cord when you heard your own words being belted by Cardinal Copia through the microphone.

As all the Siblings swooned over such a beautiful slow song, something Ghost didn't do often, you are seemingly frozen. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺? You feel beside yourself.

On the other hand, masked by his stage presence, Copia is so nervous to sing this song to you. And it is for you. He saw you pause upon hearing the first chorus, and he starts to worry when you don't move through the first verse.

Begging for you to look up at him, he gets his wish by the end of the second chorus. He meets your tear filled eyes; he had written a second verse just for you. As he serenades the crowd, his attention is on you; he could only hope you heard his thoughts, the meaning behind every line.

"We dance once more"

𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵.

"I feel your hands are cold"

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘮𝘪𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

"Within your heart, a story to be told"

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘐'𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

"This is the moment of just letting go"

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.

"This is the moment of just letting go"

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭.

By the third chorus, nothing feels real. Tears break past your waterline, and you feel like you might puke. You press your fingers to your mouth and quickly run from the room.

Luckily your stomach did not betray you, and you're able to calm your nerves by splashing cool water on your face in the bathroom. Not long after, you head back to your room, deciding it would be all too much to try to party any more tonight; you just need rest.

• • •

Hours pass and sleep never finds you. Frustration washes over you as you hear a knock on the door. Surely one of your fellow Sisters coming to drag you to a party.

"I'm asleep!!" you yell before throwing a pillow over your head.

"I, uhh, it doesn't sound like it, Sorella."

The Cardinal. Damn it. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 the person you wanted to see right now, not that you wanted to see anyone.

Begrudgingly, you trudge over to the door before cracking it open. "Topolino, are you alright? You seemed... unwell earlier. I was sad to see you leave so early."

You sigh, defeated, and open the door some more. "I'm fine, I just..." In your pause, the feelings bubble back up inside you, and it all comes gushing out, "I just can't believe you thought it was okay to do that!!! To make my words into a song! Private thoughts, my deepest feelings, and you just put it out there for everyone to hear!"

The Cardinal gently pushes you back into the room, closing the door behind you so no one would hear your tirade.

"I 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 you! And you used my feelings for your silly band!!! That second verse didn't even make sense!"

He stood there, and he took it until that last line. That's when he mumbled, "That was for you."

"What? What excuse could you possibly have for that?!" You didn't let up on him. You're mad and it's all spilling out now.

"𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶!" he boomed. "That second verse, I wrote it for you."

For the second time that night, your Cardinal had you speechless, frozen to the spot.

His voice comes much softer this time, "I know you wrote that first verse for your Papa, and so I sang it from your perspective, but the second verse is about how I see you..."

"Oh-" is all you can manage before his lips are on yours. Instinctively, you soften into his kiss; he's your Cardinal after all, you know he wouldn't do anything to hurt you on purpose. You know this just by the gentle way his hands caress your body, gracing the small of your back, your waist, your cheeks, and your hair as his lips write their own love letter against yours.

Both panting and dizzy from your heightened feelings, your apologize, "I'm so sorry, Copia. I really misinterpreted that whole thing..."

"Sì, I'm sorry too, mia bella. I should've discussed it with you. I'm sure it was a lot for you to take in," he hugs you to him tightly.

"Well... It was a beautiful arrangement. It would be a shame if the fans never got to hear it," you smile up at the man holding you so close.

"(Y/N), I will take it off the album if it displeases you."

"Cardi, what did I just say? Leave it on, let everyone know how much you love me," you grin at him.

"I 𝘥𝘰 love you, Sorella. Please let me love you."

Leaning up to him, you press another kiss to his lips, feeling his mustache tickle your nose.

"As you wish, my love."

That nickname coming from you was all he could ever ask for in this world.

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goldeneyedgirl · 8 months

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AILess Whumptober Day 1: Drugged/Poisoned

Happy October!

And with October comes the beloved fic event: Whumptober. I'll be working through some of the @ailesswhumptober prompts this October. Some of them will be Planned and Thoughtful. Others will be random rambling little bits of nonsense for fun and enrichment.

How many I get done is unknown because I also have schoolwork, so we'll just see.

First up is Drugged/Poisoned, set in Hybrid-verse. No idea if this will become canon to that fic, we're just here to have a good time right now.

raw (day 1: poisoned/drugged).

twilight, alice/jasper, pg, hybrid-verse. no warnings.

The building is dark and cold, and very, very quiet now that the power is off. It’s not a large building, but large enough that he needs to find Alice immediately and get her out. They don’t know enough about who this person is and what they want with her to take any extra time. Rose took down the wifi and any backup cameras when she shut off the power, so there’s zero chance of witnesses.

She’s in the room just at the junction of the building; the door is double-bolted and it takes no effect just to break the lock at the hinge and step through.

It’s a grey cinder-block of a room with a fine layer of filth - dust, dirt, dead flies and debris - on all the surfaces. There’s a rusted metal chair in one corner, and an ancient cot with a split, rotting mattress half-on it.

Alice is there on the cot, with her back to him; her shirt is torn open and he can see her spine and the wide bruises that has bloomed against her skin.

And she’s not moving.

Jasper’s never moved so fast in his life. She’s still alive; he can hear her sluggish heartbeat if he listens carefully. But he’s never see his girl so still; even asleep, she twitches and wriggles and moves around.

“Alice? Alice?”

He’s too rough when he grabs her shoulder he realizes as he rolls her over; there’ll be a bruise and he immediately hates himself. But she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make any sound or indication that he’s hurt her, or that she felt it.

She’s unconscious and utterly limp, but the state she’s in… it’s almost hard to look at her. Around her mouth is blistering, raw and red; there bruises across her face and cheeks in various stages of healing. There’s an angry cut so close to her eye that it makes Jasper feel oddly sick. She looks so fragile and broken, and he needs her to wake up so he can fix this. Everything will be fine if she wakes up; she’ll tell him what to do, where it hurts.

“Alice,” he says quietly, pushing his gift against her, trying to trigger her into stirring. Anything. He just needs one indication that she’s with him, that they can get past this. He doesn’t know a goddamn thing about first aid, about a medical emergency.

(Even worrying about her for the last week and a half… he thought he’d covered every possibly scenario but now he’s facing this, he’s realizing a whole new world of terror and horror that he never considered.)

“It’s gonna be okay, Alice,” he murmurs, as if he’s not trying to reassure both of them. She’s so clammy, even in just a torn t-shirt and a thin skirt with the cold of the building.

That’s when he notices the vomit; foamy and unnatural, stuck all over one side of her face and the mattress, with faint pink streaks of blood - the scent blotted out by something sharp and caustic.

He’s not sure if Alice has been poisoned or drugged, but either way, alarm bells are going off in his head. He’s out of his depth; a few bruises and cuts he can deal with. But this… this isn’t right. This is something much bigger and scarier than he anticipated.

(He was the one that insisted he go alone, that the rest of them wait at the cabin. That it would be faster, less detectable if he was by himself. And now he’s here with no way of calling for help, for advice. He’s alone and Alice is clearly hurting and he’s got a 30 mile run with her - in sheets of ice-cold rain - to manage and he doesn’t know what to do.)

There’s a reeking blanket on the floor, but it’ll do. He wraps her in his sweatshirt before the blanket; she might be clammy now, but the rain is icy and some vague voice in his brain that the shock of cold is a bad thing. He needs to hold her head up too; if she vomits again, she might choke.

Her heartbeat and her breathing are both sluggish, the raspy puff against her lips ominous. She needs Carlisle now. She needs everything he can throw at her, every medication and tincture and aid. She’s so fucking thin, and he carefully crossing her arms over her chest before he wraps her in the blanket so that there’s no risk of injury because he’s going to run so very, very fast…

Whoever, whatever did this to her - stole her from her family and trapped her in this place and poisoned her and left her alone in the dark - are going to have to look him in the eye and beg for mercy, spill out every single plan and motivation, before he lets their pain stop.

And even then, their life is the price they’ll pay for laying a single finger in malice on her. He cannot let them walk free for this.

Their departure from the building is swift and efficient; he is no longer trying to be quiet or unseen. If there is anything left to track him, to record his presence, he no longer cares. Let them come, let them confront him.

As they reach the outside, he looks down at Alice, her face grey against the black of his sweatshirt. But she is no worse, and that is enough. But before he ventures back into the rain, he tucks the blanket around her face to protect it.

And then he runs.

(He’s never had anyone that he loved who could get hurt in such a way. Who could be broken like this. He traps the panic right down, to deal with later. He needs to stay calm, he needs to think clearly. They need to get home, to Carlisle and Rose, so she can get medical attention. And then he’ll call her family, let them know she’s been found. After that, that’s when he can fall apart and let the fear and panic devour him.)

(She’ll be okay. She has to be.)

#AIlessWhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptober prompt 1: drugged/poisoned/sick #my fic: whumptober2023 #jalice #alice cullen #jasper hale #human/vampire au #jasper expecting alice to be wounded but mad #and like giving him instructions #nothing scares him more than alice unconscious because there's no one to boss him around #my fic: hybrid

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sweet-lover-girl · 1 year

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Rougher Days

This is once again another anxiety based fic, PLEASE DO NOT READ if you think it may trigger you. I would hate myself if I caused some of ya'll to panic. With that being said, this is about how the reader once again has a panic attack but it gets pretty dark. I'm talking about how the intrusive thoughts get dark about death.

The reader has OCD, anxiety and bad intrusive thoughts.

This is mostly about the reader but Abby does show up towards the end.

Sorry if this seems like it's all over the place…because it is…

This is also not proof read so..Have fun!

It was storming—raging outside the little Rendezvous house you and your patrol team took shelter in. There were two people you didn’t really know by the names of Bella and Damian, who were both super sweet people, and you of course knew Manny, then there’s Abby; your girlfriend, and your dog. So it wasn’t a horrible situation to be stuck in, happy that you had two new friends and your lover and beloved companion with you, and Manny; that and it was so hot today in the summer time—the sudden pouring rain cooling it off immensely.

You loved the rain—when you where in your little shared apartment with Abby and a book for company, safe in the metal stadium walls you called home. It was dark now, the night having fallen,’The sun is just going to sleep.’ Is what your mom always told you when you got scared of the dark—waiting for the monsters to come.

There were no stars or even a gleam of moonlight. It was pitch black outside, you could only see what was around you for a slip second as the lighting flashed. With each clash hitting the ground made you jump, you had both fear and adrenaline surging through your veins—waiting to see something move in the dark, a monster with its eyes set on your safe zone, but not like the monsters like from when you were younger no—this corrupted human like creatures were far worse.

You were standing by the window, listening to the rain, the window that once held curtains but now holds wooden planks nailed to the wall to hide the inside from the out. Swaying back and forth as you pick at your sore lips, you were stuck in your mind and your vision was glassed over with thoughts. Thoughts you couldn’t stop thinking about. The fear was slowly turning into panic and you could feel a panic attack coming on, making you pace back and forth once the swaying stopped working.

As you paced the floors in front of the boarded up window, your eyes kept looking back to it, watching to see if any fungus ridden hands or fingers from the outside pushing to get in. Your breathing picks up as you continue to pace—suddenly feeling tears form in your water lines as your heart dropped with the sound of thunder striking. The first tear falls as you stare at the floor underneath your steel toe boots.

Your rub at your stomach as it begins to ache, the harsh emotions of adrenaline and panic not doing much to help it, but then again they were the reason you felt sick now. You drop your hands from you tummy to shake them out—almost like you were trying to shake out the anxiety, something Abby suggested you try and do. She said to.’Shake out the anxiety by shaking your hands, let it just fall out.’ Something her dad told her to do when she was feeling anxious. You can’t tell if it was really working or not, but it made you feel a little better with the sudden movement of your body.

Lighting strikes again and another tear falls.

You were shaking at this point—teeth clenched as they tried to rattle, you were wringing your hands till they felt numb—you could feel how cold you were. Cold. Just like those creatures—but you weren’t a creature, were you? Are you dreaming? Like how you always heard people apparently saw clips of their life while they were dying. Are you dead? No. No, no..You woke up today in Abby’s arms, she went down and got you breakfast because you didn’t wanna get up yet. You packed hers and your bags while she was talking to Manny about the route we were taking today. No..you’re not dead, stop it. You told yourself. Abby wouldn’t let you die, you’re fine. Safe in the Rendezvous house, Where is Abby?

You were so far in your head at this point—psyching yourself out and making the panic worse. Almost letting yourself think you had died somewhere. Fuck, you hated this. You knew it was just your panic and OCD messing with you—trying to scare you and make your intrusive thoughts get the better if you,’You are more then your illness.’ Your mom would always say to you when your panicked hit at a young ago. You missed her and your dad so much, but at least they don’t have to suffer this cruel apocalyptic world.

You had managed to sit down on the dark green sofa that was covered with a sheet while thinking about your family, your left leg bouncing up and down fast as you though about them, thinking about what they had said to do when panic struck—your hands had the dirty white sheet clenched in your grasp.

In the back of your mind you could hear a pair of paws hitting the floor, the nails scraping the ground. Then you felt a could nose push against your cheek—making you gasp and look down at what touched you. Oh. It was your dog, Stryker. She was like your emotion support dog, she always seemed to know when you were panicking or having a rough time. She would always find you too. She was just a black lab that went up to your mid thigh, you knew she was mixed with something else—you just weren’t sure what.

“Hey girl,” You greeted her, petting the soft fur behind her floppy ear.

She gave out a happy whine as she rubbed her head against your open palm, her tail wagging back and forth. You swore you could see a faint halo glowing over her head as she did this. Your sweet little Angel. Abby loved her too, and since Stryker helped with your anxiety Isaac aloud you to let her in your room and she usually follows you everywhere—except for the cafeteria, because she sheds a little to much sometimes.

As you pet Stryker your vision went hazy again as you sunk back into your thoughts unwilling. Thinking about the monsters outside, hiding in plan sight with nature as it’s camouflage. Reaching out for you as you run by and try to hide—hundreds following you as you turn down the alleyway. Your breath picking up as you hear the clicks and groans—the wet growling and rotten joints popping.

You let out a cry as you felt one finally reach you—grabbing you by the shoulder, though the touch was soft and you could feel warmth radiating off of the hand, you still push it away.

You hear a sharp whine and a soothing voice, baritone yet feminine and other hand lands on your other shoulder, holding you down gently. You gasp as you look up—you eyes wide and alert, expecting to see a clicker but it was just Abby with Stryker pacing right behind her. Letting out a sigh as you place your hand in Abby’s, holding her there. Your heart pounding as you come down from the scare.

“Baby?”

You let out a whimper at hearing Abby’s voice, making her kneel in front of you and grab your waist, pulling you to the lip of the couch hugging you close to her. She began to rub you back as you wrap your arms around her neck, burying your face in between her cheek and your arm—smelling the scent that was so uniquely Abigail Andersons smell. Pine, dewy earth and the faint musky smell of sweat.

It was so comforting to just inhale her sometimes, everything about her was comforting, the smell of her made your head feel cloudy, her touch grounded you to the earth—that you were afraid if she let go, you would float away. Her voice strong and soft, masculine and feminine. Abby defend the supposed rule of women, where they must be soft and fragile, where women needed a man to support and carry them. While Abby was strong and mean, she didn’t need a man to support her and sure as hell didn’t need a man to carry her. You loved all this about Abby and so much more.

You hadn’t realized you stopped shaking and just stared at the ground, worrying Abby as you suddenly stop crying, making her pull away from the hug and look at you, your distant stare bothering her as she looked to Stryker than back to you, thinking you were looking at your dog. “Baby”, she said once more in a hushed voice, rubbing your arms firmly yet gentle. You look up with tears in your solemn eyes.

Abby let out a sad sigh at the look on your face. She could tell your were terrified and that you just had and are still currently having a rough time with your mental disorders. You looked exhausted and wore out, your beautiful eyes are dull and the usual shine that was there was no more.

“Hey pumpkin, you back with me?” Abby asked.

You nodded—not trusting your voice right now. She hummed and stood up and sat down on the couch next to you, pulling your legs over her lap and she looped her arm around your lower back, cuddling you. You lean your head under hers and your hand comes up to clench at her shirt, closing your eyes. You both just sat there for a minute, Abby knew you would tell her what was wrong when you were ready—though she knew you had something going on, she wasn’t going to force you to tell her.

Your breathing had finally slowed down as you felt the couch behind you dip and you felt a warm furry body against your back, brushing up against you, Stryker was spinning in circles till she got comfortable and laid down.

“You wanna talk about it?” Abby asked, filling the quite room with her husky voice. “No, not really. I’m just tired now.” You replied.

Abby knew that sometimes after an attack you would just be tired, she couldn’t imagine dealing with that and she hates how her sweet, precious baby girl has too, yes she has her own mental battles and problems but not quite like you, she would take it from you in a heart beat if she could. Sadly though she can’t, so for now she’ll sit here and hold you and you were perfectly fine with that because you knew you were in the safest place you could be, with both your girls protecting you from either side, you knew you would be just fine. They would fight any monster that tries to get you.

#abby anderson #abby anderson/reader #lesbians in love #wlw #abby anderson fan fiction #abby tlou #hurt/comfort #mental illness

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