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ellecdc · 3 months

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Baaaaabe 😫

Ive been sick for the last couple days, and as always, that first day was horrible. Ive had my brain legit decide it wants to inflate bigger than my skull capacity (long story short, pregnancy 🫡) and i got to re-experience that feeling for the first 12 hours 💀

BUT i came back and i was sooo excited for your updates!! They were soo good (please tell me theres a part 2 to that angst....pls 🥺) And i love our discussions in the comments 🫶

I do have another request though if you have the time love. Another possessive!wolfstar buuuttt..... make reader Jamie's sister (twins?)!! Its troublesome enough for James to keep Sirius' hands to himself, but full moon Rem?? He's a brick wall. Like somethings happening between the 2 and Jamie is chasing reader, then she spots Rem and hides behind him. James tries to reach for her and Rem is just kinda like "???? Excuse me, thats mine. Dont touch. James Fleamont Potter. DONT. TOUCH." without even knowing whats going on. James is incredulous (because thats HIS sister) and Siri is chuckling but it looks like Rem might actually bite Jamie's hand off so he moves between them to seperate them but Rem is also like "ExCuSe YOU??? Also mine. *to siri* dont touch him. *to James* dont touch them or you might not have all your fingers when you wake up!!"

And just the repercussions of this where James isnt allowed alone with either until a couple days passed the 🌕

Hope youre looking after yourself darling 🩵

I love James' sister trope - something about it screams fluff and perhaps a little angst but just in all the best ways. I would imagine his sister to be so much like him: mischievous, funny, and full of love. Thanks for requesting!!!

poly!wolfstar x potter sister!reader

There were quite a few perks that came along with being James Potter's twin sister. One said perk was having a built-in best friend from the moment you came into the world. Another was that whilst you were attending school, you had the benefit of no one being willing to mess with you on account of the company you kept - namely, your brother and his infamous friends who called themselves The Marauders.

What being James Potter's twin sister couldn't protect you from? James Potter.

What could protect you from being James Potter's twin sister? Being the girlfriend of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

You and James were leaving Care of Magical Creatures together, heading to meet up with Remus and Sirius near the Greenhouses when one Lily Evans walked by - graciously bestowing James the time of day for quite possibly the first time ever - when you decided that this was the perfect pranking opportunity.

You really couldn't be blamed for what happened next: it truly was a gift bestowed upon you by the great pranking gods, and who were you to deny it?

"Hello, Potter." Lily said, causing James to gasp dramatically.

"Hello, Lily! Beautiful day out today, innit?"

Lily couldn't help but snicker at the sickeningly wide grin that took over James' face.

"Oi, Jamie. I forgot to tell you: mum sent that rash cream you were asking for. She said to remind you it's only safe to put around your anus, not in it." You proclaimed loudly, pretending to read from a 'letter' your mother had sent.

The courtyard became incredibly quiet before what you recognized to be Barty Crouch Junior's laugh echoed the space, triggering the snickering of all those present.

"You are so dead!" James sneered and you didn't hesitate to take off in a sprint - knowing your brother was a mere few paces behind you.

"You slithering little snake! She finally starts coming around - are you kidding me!?" He shouted as you swerved between bodies standing in your way whilst he just barrelled right through them.

Suddenly, you saw salvation in the form of one Remus John Lupin.

Now, granted, Remus didn't always protect you from your squabbles with James. Part of the reason for that was because half of the time you sort of deserved it (much like today), and the other part was that he claimed he didn't know what proper protocol was in sibling relationships on account of him being an only child. Sirius, a brother himself, had no such qualms and always took your side.

However, you knew that the full moon was in a mere two more sleeps, meaning Remus was at his most protective (read: possessive) which did not distinguish James Potter as friend, sibling, nor pack.

Right now: James Potter was only a threat.

And, let's be honest, being James Potter's twin sister, and a girlfriend to Remus Lupin and Sirius black also meant you were mischievous as hell. So you had no trouble using this to your utmost advantage.

You squeaked in terror as you slid behind Remus' lanky frame a moment before James - the bastard - slammed into his form and all but bounced off of Remus. James was admittedly more muscular that Remus, but Remus' height and werewolf strength left him towering above James as the dumb sod picked himself up off the ground.

"What in the buggering hell is going on?" He spat at James as one of his arms wrapped behind him, shielding you from your fuming brother.

"That sneaky little witch just embarrassed me in front of Lily!" James barked, looking like he was still trying to figure out how to get around Remus in order to strangle you.

"Please," Sirius drawled as he walked over casually, "like you need any help in that department Prongs."

You tried to hide your snicker, but from Remus' glance at you through the corner of his eye, you knew he caught it.

"She told the entire courtyard I needed cream for a rash on my anus!"

Sirius doubled over in laughter and you preened when you noticed Remus let out a soft chuckle himself.

"It's not sodding funny you wanker! Lily spoke to me first today! I'm going to kill you!" James snarled, moving his attention from Sirius to you.

As James stepped forward menacingly, Remus grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Prongs, enough." He barked.

Sirius was still laughing when he moved to stand between Remus and James, releasing James' shirt from Remus' fist.

"Okay, down boy." Sirius snarked, patting James' shoulder consolingly.

"Oh, sod off." James muttered, elbowing Sirius as he moved to step away.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and tried to even out your breathing; lungs still burning from your run.

"You okay, dove?" Remus asked you so gently as he bent down to make eye contact with you. His face screamed love, attentiveness, and care, making you feel slightly guilty for having shoved him in the middle of your tom foolery.

"I'm fine, Moons. Sorry for causing trouble." You answered solemnly.

His face picked up slightly at your words as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't causing trouble, love."

Your tender moment was interrupted by a yelp, causing the two of you to turn only to notice James and Sirius wrestling. James seemed to have gotten Sirius into a headlock, and the sod wasn't willing to tap out - still kicking and clawing at James in anyway he could.

"Oi!" Remus shouted as he plucked Sirius out of James' grasp and shoved him in the direction of the castle. James used his momentary distraction as an opportunity to set his sights back on you as he lunged, tackling you to the ground.

"Fuckin' hell Jamie! You weight a tonne!" You shouted, kneeing him in the gut. James doubled over and rolled onto his side in the fetal position.

You didn't even get a chance to right yourself before you were thrown over Remus' shoulder who was still shouting at Sirius to "get back to the dorm. The both of you are staying within my sights for the next foreseeable future" as you all left James with the wind knocked out of him, keeled over on the castle grounds.

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6esiree · 14 days

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More Than Just a Sugar Baby

Summary: Imagine you’re Alastor’s, Lucifer’s, and Husk’s sugar baby and one of you starts to develop feelings?

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, swearing, a little bit of angst if you squint? Husk is drunk, but that’s it. I wasn’t happy with Vox’s and Adam’s parts so I’ll upload those soon. MINORS, DO NOT READ!!!

Alastor:

Romance was not something Alastor dealt in, everybody knew that, so when a pretty little thing like you suddenly showed up at the Hazbin Hotel in search of him instead of redemption, they were…confused. Nobody dared to pry into the man’s private affairs, however, shut down by a mere stare over the shoulder as he escorted you upstairs. This continued religiously every Saturday night, your secret arrangement never escaping the confines of Alastor’s walls.

“Oh, mon chéri, why are you being so quiet?”

You sighed as Alastor placed a gentle kiss on your clit, his arms wrapping around your thighs to part your legs, which you were too shy to do yourself. “That’s better,” Alastor murmured, his tongue slithering past his teeth. “But not quite what I’m looking for.” You tossed your head back against the mattress with a cry as he licked at your clit, which is exactly what he wanted to hear.

Lick, kiss, lick, kiss—Alastor did this back and forth, relishing in every noise that escaped your throat, including the way your hips tried to wriggle away from his ministrations. You didn’t recognize the man between your legs, and truthfully, neither did Alastor, overcome by something he had worked so hard to suppress since he manifested in Hell: carnal desires.

“Is this what you wanted all along, hm?” Alastor asked you as he lapped at your cunt, making for a filthy sight.

The sexual aspect of your arrangement was new, at least when it came to you being on the receiving end, so you were afraid that if you gave Alastor a verbal response, you would tell him more than a simple ‘Yes,’ months of getting on your knees in exchange for salvation from the financial hole you had dug yourself into making you feel…certain things for him.

“Well, yes—“ You started.

“‘Well, yes?’ Do not lie to me,” Alastor interrupted you, the sound of radio static flooding your ears. “Just admit that you kept pleasuring me for something you no longer needed.”

“That’s not entirely true…” You tried again, but there was no point in lying when you had already fucked up from the beginning. “Okay, fine. I’m a liar. It’s just—I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore, Alastor.”

“If that’s the case, then why did you continue to return to me?”

“Because I want something more.”

A foreign feeling stirred in Alastor’s chest at that, and while he didn’t know what it was, he did know that he preferred to hear what you said more to any other sound you’d made thus far. He latched onto your clit, suckling it and making you feel rewarded for your honesty. You were close, so, so close, but then Alastor brought his head up with a ‘Pop!’, any complaints you had dying on the tip of your tongue when he crawled up to you.

“Part those legs for me, won’t you, mon chéri?” Alastor told you, settling his fingers on his belt buckle as he peered down at you with a smile, his cock straining against his pants. “I will give you something more, alright.”

Lucifer:

Nobody was aware of your arrangement with Lucifer, not even his own daughter, and he intended to keep it that way. Even when he moved into the Hazbin Hotel shortly after it was rebuilt, the man told you through the phone an hour before you were supposed to meet, “Just tell me when you’re outside, alright?” allowing him to whisk you away in secrecy, a smile on his face as you lit up at the sight of his wings.

“Fuck, please keep doing that—yeah, just like that, honey.”

Lucifer carded his fingers through your hair, a groan escaping his throat as your tongue leisurely traveled up his cock. But when you peered up at him through your lashes and gave the head a wet, sloppy kiss, the man yanked your head down, tears forming in the corner of yours eyes as he forced you to swallow him whole, his cum shooting straight down your throat. Although you almost choked, knowing that it was the third time he had finished made your heart swell with pride.

“That was…quick,” You said, blinking away the tears as you pulled back, licking your lips when he shot you an unamused look.

Even though Lucifer didn’t mind a little teasing, he couldn’t help but wipe that smile off of your face, his tail wrapping around your waist. You yelped as he tossed you onto the space next to him, your heart pounding violently against your ribcage at the suddenness of the act. “Lucifer!” You scolded him, your face flushed in embarrassment as he hovered above you with a toothy grin.

“Aw, why’d you stop laughing?” Lucifer arched a brow at you.

You would have responded if he hadn’t trailed his hand down your shorts and past your underwear, locating your clit with ease. Lucifer chuckled as you parted your legs, your head sinking further into the pillow, but your displeasure never leaving your features. “You’re the worst,” You muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as the pads of his fingers moved up and down your folds, collecting your slick.

“Yet you keep coming back to me,” Lucifer said, leaning into your neck, staying there as he added the next part in a joking manner. “You must love me then, huh?”

You sighed, your back arching off of the mattress as he slowly sunk his fingers inside of you, stretching your walls with a delicious burn. His thumb massaged circles onto your clit, too, the combination feeling heavenly. However, you particularly enjoyed watching how Lucifer’s arm flexed as he worked away at your cunt, the way you clenched around his fingers a testament of that.

“And if I do?” You whispered, feeling his breath hitch.

Lucifer brought his head up to look at you, his hand coming to a standstill. You opened your mouth to ask him why he had stopped, but then he curled his fingers upwards, pressing against that velvety spot inside of you. “And if you do…” He said, seemingly considering your words as he fucked you with his hand, the room filled with the filthy sound of your squelching cunt. Your eyes fluttered shut with a cry—fuck, you were so close.

“Well, uh, if you do, you wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again,” Lucifer added tentatively, assuming that was what you cared about the most.

“Yeah, but…I’d also get to wake up next to you every morning,” You said, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

Lucifer suddenly captured your lips with a kiss, swallowing your gasp of surprise. The two of you had agreed not to do that when discussing the terms of your agreement, finding the act too…intimate, reserved only for lovers. But there you were, letting each other know how you truly felt by defying one meager rule, all while his fingers continued to work away at your cunt, preparing you for the long night you were in for.

Husk:

Husk lost the ability to love a long time ago—that’s what he told you when he offered to help you with your financial situation, positive that the sexual aspect of your arrangement wouldn’t affect him. But as the months passed by, he started to feel a distant ache in his chest, guilt enveloping his heart when he realized it only worsened with every visit you paid him. So, what did Husk do? He drowned himself in liquor, trying not to let his feelings get in the way.

“Shit, babydoll…ya treatin’ me s’good.”

You kissed at Husk’s neck, your hand buried in his pants as you stroked his cock at a leisure pace. He was usually the one on top, but he came into your room utterly inebriated tonight, asking you to take care of him as he collapsed onto the mattress. You could tell that Husk wanted more, his hands bunching your skirt up over your waist, the pads of his fingers running down your cunt through your panties, but he was drunk.

“Always,” You said, feeling him throb in your hand.

“C’mere,” Husk said, patting his lap. You hesitated, but you eventually retracted your hand from his pants and complied. “Why ya bein’ so shy, mm?”

“Maybe because you’re drunk—“ You started.

But then he grabbed your hips and tried moving you against him, his brows knitting in confusion when you didn’t budge. You ached for Husk, truly, but how could you give him what he wanted without feeling guilty about it? That is what you wondered as he tried to shrug off his own pants, the man growing frustrated as he failed to realize his suspenders were still on.

“Just needa get these fuckin’ pants off.”

“How about I use my mouth—“

“Nah, lemme—“

“What’s wrong with you!?”

You hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but watching Husk drunkenly struggle underneath you made you feel sort of…upset. Not to mention that this wasn’t the first time he had come to your little meetings like this. As you stared down at him, you started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose, the hurt on your face sobering him up a bit.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Husk said, panicking as he pulled your skirt down where it belonged.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you,” You said, but he wasn’t having any of that.

Husk shook his head, holding onto your hips as he sat up. He was no longer hard at this point, so you straddled his lap, your eyes fluttering shut as he reached out to cradle your jaw. “Don’t apologize, babydoll,” He muttered, the stench of whiskey wafting into your nostrils, but you were too busy focusing on the feeling of his thumb swiping across your cheek to care.

“Is everything alright?” You asked. “I’m only asking because I’ve noticed that you’ve been coming to me all drunk and shit.”

“Yeah,” Husk said, but when he noticed how unconvinced you looked, he sighed. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me, I’ve just had a lotta shit on my mind, s’all there is to it.”

“Y’know, Husk? If you don’t feel comfortable with…this anymore,” You said, gesturing to the two of you, “You can just tell me.“

“No!”

Now it was your turn to be surprised, blinking as Husk massaged his temples. You had no idea that he was trying to figure out how to tell you that he’d been getting drunk so he’d feel less guilty as he fucked you, refusing to end your arrangement not only because you needed the money, but because he was selfish, too. “Husk?” You said, your hand settling on his chest, his heart racing against your palm.

“I’m just gonna give it to ya plain and simple,” Husk sighed, placing his hand over yours. “Look, I like ya, and I didn’t wanna say anythin’ about it.”

“But why’d you get drunk?”

“I got drunk ‘cause I’m fuckin’ selfish, alright?” Husk said, raising his voice at you by accident. “Sorry, babydoll, I just feel like a jackass right now.”

You leaned in and placed a kiss on Husk’s nose, trying to show him that you weren’t upset. In fact, you appreciated his honesty, relieved to know that he didn’t find you…disgusting or anything. “Let’s talk about this when you’re sober, okay?” You said, pushing him down onto the mattress. “For now, let me take care of you.” Husk’s face flushed at that, but the way his cock twitched underneath you felt more rewarding.

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likealittleheartbeat · 4 months

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I try to generally be constructive and engaged with the show I love on here, so on this day, I’ll just say that one of the most thematically important aspects for me from the original ATLA is Aang’s emotional core of real shame for running away when he was hurt by the monk’s decision to send him away. People who feel the kind of deep-seated shame that Aang feels from this decision can understand how that kind of all-encompassing shame is not built around a simple failure or a lie they tell themselves; it’s constructed from real misbehaviors and transgressions of their own sense of ethics—lashing out, telling lies, attempting to hurt others intentionally—that then have consequences (abuses, abandonments, or deaths) which seem to far exceed their expectations or even basic logic.

The combination of the misbehavior with exaggerated existential punishments (along with a lack of support and amend-making in the immediate wake of the events) is what transforms a sense of guilt (I fucked up) into shame (I am a forever fuck-up). Then shame, that sense of being a secret monster ‘no matter what I do or how good everyone thinks I am,’ invites all the avoidance strategies (Aang puts on big smiles, makes lots of jokes, constantly tries to make everyone happy, hops from town to town without building deeper connections). One doesn’t want to acknowledge one’s true feelings or let others in to see those feelings and experiences because it’s too painful to face the grief at the same time that you have to look at yourself for being responsible—even when you recognize it wasn’t totally your fault. It’s just that if you had just been good, less emotional, less human, then maybe the world wouldn’t be so messed up. Of course, in a zen view of things, the world will always be messed up in the same way it will always be beautiful. These are constant facts that always coexist in balance, and this is the truth that Aang learns and that undergirds the whole series.

So I always loved that Aang ran away. It was his sin and his salvation. And it becomes this constant tension for the series—he gets hurt in Bato of the Water Tribe and starts to run away from Katara and Sokka, he runs away to the Guru in the Crossroads of Destiny and his best friend is attacked, he and the gaang retreat after the Day of the Black Sun failure, he runs away to meditation in Sozin’s Comet when everyone wants him preparing for war. Aang’s reluctance to be a hero and the attachments and petulance for which he gets criticized are what metamorphasize to become his most noble attributes. They allow him to empathize with others shame and, ultimately, wield the kind of compassion that can deconstruct the power and perfectionism of imperialism.

So yes, Aang ran away from his temple 100 years ago. It wasn’t the mentally healthy choice. It wasn’t the ethical choice. It wasn’t the wise choice. It was human and emotional and shameful and real. Aang is a better character for it. ATLA is a better show because of it. And we are better people when we understand these kind of tragic emotional experiences that people are trying so hard to grow through.

#aanglove #vague posting about the nf adaptation lol #I won’t go off in my posts but I will in my comments #only 17 minutes in tbh #and already amazed at realizing how cool it was that the of series wasn’t told in a linear style lol #I do think the casting department went off for the nf series tho #the kid playing aang is so perf #and all the actors fit their parts so well #but the show doesn’t understand or seem interested in depicting colonial violence at alllll #and the language of the fire nation wanting to ‘take over the world’ is so much more marvel than a colonial rhetoric #and then aang just wanting to ‘go get some air’ to clear his head…😑#we aren’t allowed to have problematic protagonists anymore I guess #only people with perfect mental health strategies allowed in young adult fiction #because we view fiction from a moralistic standpoint now instead of an empathetic one #but 🤷🏻‍♀️

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messiahzzz · 4 months

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while it’s perfectly fine to have your own headcanons that are non-canon compliant — by all means, go wild. recognizing pieces of yourselves in fictional characters can be a very healing and validating experience. this is nonetheless a casual, well-intentioned reminder that gale, in fact, does not have bpd.

bpd is a pervasive pattern of instability affecting interpersonal relationships, self-image, and mood. the disorder is marked by impulsivity beginning in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. a diagnosis requires at least 5 of the following 9 criteria to be met:

Fear of abandonment

Unstable or changing relationships

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

Suicidal behavior or self-injury

Varied or random mood swings

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

source: [x]

i highlighted the criteria that do apply to gale in one way or another in a pretty purple.

i personally believe that it’s rather harmful to equate his relationship with mystra with her being “his fp”. she is a deity, his goddess, and the source of his powers, who is in in full control of the magic he wields.

gale: mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.

gale has been effectively groomed and conditioned to serve and revere her at every turn since early childhood. imo this comparison really undermines a lot of crucial points in gale’s story that deal with his overall trauma and abuse. after all, you wouldn’t call shar sh*dowhe*rt’s fp either.

gale doesn’t revile mystra, nor does he commit benevolent deeds solely motivated by the secret hope that she will somehow notice and take him back. when you meet gale in the game he has already fully come to terms with the fact that he has been abandoned by mystra with no hope of reconciliation whatsoever. he also had some very fitting lines in ea regarding this topic that i'm sad haven't been repurposed in the full release in some way.

gale: [the tadpoles] don't know that some things are impossible. they don't know that... they don't know. player: what is impossible about what you're being shown? gale: forgiveness. gale: it is mystra i see. and yet it cannot be her. there was a time when i would have believed - but no longer. gale: suffice it to say she would not bestow upon me the favors promised in these dreams. that is how i know they are delusions.

he has already reached the stage of acceptance. moreover, gale only starts to realize that mystra might have been in the wrong for requesting his death once the tadpole squad & tav speak some sense into him. and even then he doesn’t ever show that his emotions regarding mystra are anywhere along those lines. he is instead rightfully angered that she only saw value in his death, after he had been worshipping her loyally for years.

gale: i worshipped mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power i was ready to wield. gale: even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. she's done nothing to help us.

gale: you abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. i had no obligation to help you in yours. gale: because you had no right to ask that of me. you cast me out, remember?

gale doesn’t display rapid changes in mood either. he is a character who is generally very composed and has been known to remain nonchalant even in the face of utter horror. tim downie himself even commented on this once. source: [x]

the only instance i can think of is his sudden switch from resigned-to-death to utter-eye-sparkling-enthusiasm once he spots the crown of karsus. apart from crucial story reasons that i won’t touch upon in this post, i’d also like to add that it’s a rather common phenomenon for people who have just barely survived a suicide attempt to suddenly be filled with zeal and unbridled energy. he doesn't display impulsivity without thorough consideration when it comes to its acquisition either. he considers this a golden opportunity and is positively enthusiastic and elated that this might prove an alternative to him ending up in a cloud of netherese smoke. nonetheless, he knows what he is doing. evident in him actually succeeding in ascending in one of his endings.

gale: this is no passing whim, trust me. if i can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. it is not a decision i'll take lightly. gale: it's our future that i'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us. gale: for now - we've learned all we can.

neither are his relationships that we do know of (namely elminster, tara, and morena) frequently changing. they are marked by years of mutual respect, care, and consistency. there is nothing unstable about them. while it's important to note that his relationship with tav is still in its honeymoon stages during the main game, there is no inclination of any push-and-pull dynamic between them whatsoever.

gale isn’t preoccupied with keeping up some sort of benevolent act in order to win (back) affection — he genuinely IS a good person and he proves this at every turn. moreover, to have a tressym become your familiar you must be of Good alignment.

(taken from tumblr user galedekarios's post.)

there is never a moment where his ideals or alignment suddenly change. in fact, i’d argue that he and wyll are most consistent in this regard when compared to the rest of the companions. gale makes his moral standpoint very clear from the beginning on and also explicitly states that he believes that in order to survive this entire ordeal it would be selfish of him if he wouldn’t be willing to compromise on his morals. this isn’t a sudden bout of ✨muahahaha wizard hubris✨ that he barely contained to hold in before, this is yet another act of selflessness — it is what he’s willing to do for the group and subsequently, the welfare of faerun.

player: i love unsavoury things. don't feel guilty on my account. gale: that's good to know. although i should say i do what i do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury. gale: we're up against the greatest threat faerun has ever faced. i don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving. gale: whatever advantage i can gain for us. i will. and i refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.

this is him, once again trying to be useful in whatever way he can. to give them an advantage, a slither of hope against seemingly impossible odds, so they might make it out of this in one piece. gale wouldn’t approve of those actions under normal circumstances, but their predicament is as far from any definition of “normal” as it can get.

gale is no fool, he realizes this is essentially about survival. he knows that he has no option left other than to tolerate, which is why he can be convinced to not immediately depart tav’s company even if they choose to commit atrocities. this is no character flaw of his or him displaying a previously dormant openness for cruelty, this is about recognizing the necessity.

player: you don't stand a chance alone. you're free to go. i dare you. gale: gods damn you - you're right. few things are more powerful than the will to live.

gale: i thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but i see now that there are darker depths to which i might yet sink. you may be content to sink into that abyss, but i assure you - i am not.

gale doesn’t lead a split existence. he has a very strong sense of identity. he knows what he wants, what he doesn’t want and he isn’t shy in expressing his boundaries either. which he has especially shown when it comes to his relationship with tav. i originally had intended to touch upon this in another post entirely but: i firmly believe his entire Gale of Waterdeep™ persona is more of a performance than him struggling to find a sense of identity and trying them on for size. it is an intentional decision to separate gale dekarios from the great wizard of waterdeep, to create distance and make sure his family name remains untarnished in case things should ever go sideways.

gale: i agree. and on the plus side, if i get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

there is also a deep-rooted feeling of unworthiness and his firm belief that love and praise are conditional resources that he will only be granted through his talents alone, naturally. presenting himself as gale dekarios, the man, would mean highlighting his shortcomings and very human flaws, while distracting from the aspects of himself that are deemed praiseworthy, the ones that actually matter: his magical prowess.

i personally believe that part of the beauty of gale’s story is him realizing just how “little” it takes for him to be truly content. he gets his happy ending, with someone at his side who truly sees him, understands him and unabashedly commits to him. they worship and adore him in return — and it is well deserved. he isn’t reduced to be constantly and restlessly searching for some unattainable ideal to fill the gaping void within himself. he doesn’t secretly thirst for more power still or believes that in being with tav he is settling for something. instead, he is finally happy to just be. be and be accepted. teaching a class of unruly wizards and coming home to his spouse each day already fulfills him.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

even if he doesn’t pursue a romance with tav, he reaches a realization of “oh, it appears i am not irredeemably flawed and only able to reach true redemption through my own death. what i needed was actually with me all along.” throughout their journey and through his friend's support. i think that’s a very powerful and comforting message. he is very well capable of finding peace within himself.

devnotes: his default state is that he returned to waterdeep and became a professor of illusory magic at his former school, blackstaff academy. general vibe here is that this is a gale who's found peace with himself - he's a great teacher, one his students are mostly in awe of.

to repeat myself: sharing your headcanons is all in good fun, nor should you ever be discouraged from doing so. this is your personal tumblr experience, after all. but i personally think we should be mindful of unintentionally perpetuating negative stereotypes, such as narcissism being a general indicator or being deemed a classic depiction of bpd. i think we can all agree that the continuous longing for acceptance, connection, praise, and approval is something we all have in common deep down, regardless of whatever disorder we may have. [insert victoria justice meme here]

gale may be many things to many people, but he is no entitled narcissist.

#with love. a person diagnosed with bpd <3 #this turned much longer than i originally intended it to be (aka less of a reply and more of a character study)#by now you know that i am incapable of cutting myself short. i’m so sorry #i debated if i should put this in the tag at first #but i personally think that this is a very interesting discussion #also to reiterate: this is by NO MEANS a slight at the original poster #i just thought it more respectful to make my own post instead of invading theirs with my ranting #fandom is all about fun and escapism.#if you interpret characters in a certain way that i personally disagree with that is a-okay #BUT i’m also gonna have my own specific brand of fun by pointing out why you’re wrong (affectionately)#also i quickly want to add that if you're interested in a very accurate and respectful portrayal of bpd: watch crazy ex-girlfriend!!#its on netflix and genuinely such a funny and unapologetically weird show. the writers have really done their homework #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #character analysis #it speaks #long post #suicide mention

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ornii · 10 months

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Hi how about an Enid Sinclair x Male! Reader. where both are werewolves and wake up together one morning after a full moon night in the woods[Not with clothes on, of course]. They haven't talked much to each other before but they know each other anyway Enid knows everyone. Throughout the day, both remember what happened and that there was nothing "bad" about it. They talk to each other in the evening, with Enid finally confessing to him that she actually thinks it's a bit of a shame that it didn't happen. The reader just looks at her in amazement while she says with a wink that she feels more for him. He can only grin and says me too when she already pounces on him and wants to catch up on things that didn't happen.

In the Pale Moonlight

Enid Sinclair X Male Werewolf

It was all a blur at the beginning, the sudden racing of your heartbeat. The heavy breathing you started to do, you couldn’t control this primal urge overcoming you suddenly. Your head began to bound with the sound of your own blood rushing from your heart, your eyes dart upward to the full moon. In that instance you immediately recognized What was transpiring. You attempted to stand up to reach the door, only for your feet to expand out of your favorite pear of slippers. Your body hair growing and in places no body hair should exist. Your only salvation was the wolfing chamber, specifically made for situations like this.

Leaning against the wall, you attempt to make it to the door of your dormitory to get outside, it you could only make a few steps before collapsing, and your mind slowly going blank, the howl of the night was the last thing you could make out before it was over. You had no idea how much time passed before you slowly began to regain control, feeling the dirt in your claws, on your feet.

Finally regaining normal vision you watch your hairy arm slowly revert back, the ill moonlight shining on the forest, slowly you sit up, eventually looking at your surroundings to figure out just where you’re at, your eyes do catch something as well, a hand. Since the moonlight had its own reflection and light, the shadows casted by the darkness hid much but you leaned in to get a closer look, until you were met face to face with a girl. You both keep back with a small scream. She looks down quickly, realizing she’s naked and covers her body. You advert yourself eyes.

“Shit! Im so sorry!” You say, trying not to let the embarrassment stop you from doing the right thing, you felt the cool wind against your back, your spine, and also realize you’re naked. You back into the shadows of a few trees to hide whatever shred of dignity and manhood you had.

“I’m really sorry about that..” you mutter. The girl, also shrouded by a few trees tries to be a bit more pleasant.

“I-it’s fine, I didn’t know I’d wolf out..” she said. When you looked more at her face you recognized the uniqueness of her hair, and the beauty of those teal green eyes, you couldn’t mistake her anywhere else.

“Enid?” You asks, and she slowly nods.

“Yeah, and you’re (Y/n).” She said, Enid was the social butterfly, if you could call her a butterfly of Nevermore so she’s the need to know kind of type of girl. You two stood a bit away from each other, trying not to let hormones and curiosity take over.

“So, first time wolfing out?” You ask, immediately realizing it’s a dumb question, you attempt to take it back but she answers.

“It is.” She says..

“Oh…” you murmur, you looked up to see the moons position and your tracking training kicks in.

“It’s gonna be daylight soon, we should probably get back to our dorms.”

“Yeah..” Enid agrees and you both move out of the moonlight but quickly back in, it was an awkward few tries before you decide to cut it short. “You should just go first.” You say.

“Okay, you aren’t gonna peek or anything will you?”

“Of course not, promise.” You turn around to face a tree and Enid hesitates for a moment, before leaving. You hear the rustling leaves and you think for a second, you decide this might be your only chance and you spoke up.

“Hey, Enid?” You say, she stopped and turned to see you were still staring at the tree.

“Congrats on, wolfing out.” You say, while it was embarrassing to be naked in the forest with a boy you barely knew, his words of encouragement meant more than she expected. She couldn’t help but smile at this.

“Thanks.” She, in a much happier mood, headed back to her dorm before the sun could expose anything, you quickly made haste after she made a good distance away from you.

The sunlight rose on the next day, and you were trying to remember most of your wolfing out. Sitting in class you were staring off into space, trying to remember most of it, it was a haze for the most of it, but you could remember that it was mostly running, howling and, fighting? Mostly just horsing around with Enid. Thankfully you didn’t harm anyone or her. Hopefully this was something you could just shove into the back of your mind and forget, but you couldn’t and you had to confirm your theory. Late In the evening you approached Enids form room and with caution, knocked. Knowing there’s a possibility you could run into her roommate, Wednesday was a nightmare.

“Hey.. uh, Enid? It’s (Y/n).” You say, “Can.. We talk?” You ask. Your hear it unlock and out comes Enid, more casual wear and still had the pink dye in her hair.

“Cmon.” She says and you enters, noticing the split of color and lack of on the other side of the room, definitely Wednesdays side, best for avoid it, might be cursed or something. You take a moment to sit on Enids bed as she approaches.

“There’s, something I’ve been meaning to ask you, I thought a lot about last night, I’m glad I didn’t hurt you or anyone. Do you remember last night?” You ask, she looks more bubbly than before.

“Yeah, it was.. Rough. Not like that kind of rough just, fun.. I really enjoyed it actually. I’ve never wolfed out before and I had someone to wolf out with.” Enid stated, and she looked you dead in the eyes and with the most obvious hint, said “It’s a real shame we couldn’t do anything else~” she winks and a sudden hotness rushes over your face. You blink a few times and put on a smile.

“Well, feelings mutual.” You say, and she takes the opportunity to close in. Sitting on your lap, you feel her palms land softly on your shoulder and her lips close in, reciprocating her feelings, your arms coyly wrap around her lower back and waist and feel her soft breath against your lips. Her eyes closed and you shut yours to feel her lips embrace yours, her soft giggling in your ear hummed. Lying on her bed, it was the perfect time for you two to catch up on the events that could have happened last night

#netflix #male reader #wednesday #enid sinclair x reader #enid x male reader #enid x you #enid sinclair #enid x y/n #enid x reader #enid sinclair x male reader #emma myers

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genericpuff · 7 months

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And with that, 2000 years of history and 10+ years of an animated adaption later, Attack on Titan is over.

I wasn't planning on making an essay post about this but like all of my essay posts, it got crazy out of hand, so here we are. I have a lot to say on it and the more I wrote, the more I realized exactly what the Attack on Titan finale was about. It's cathartic. It's also kind of a big shitpost but not for the reasons you might think.

Spoilers for the Attack on Titan finale ahead! CW: DISCUSSION OF WAR AND GENOCIDE AHEAD!

Now for anyone who knows what I'm about to talk about (and anyone who follows my stuff here), I'm sure you're wondering , what side do I fall on in regards to Attack on Titan's ending? Am I about to talk shit about it? It's very divisive and somewhat inconclusive. It followed the exact ending in the manga which, while expected, was still disappointing to many who had hoped the anime would take some other path.

But I have to ask, could there have been any other way?

Eren committed mass genocide, bordering on extinction of the entire human race. There was no way that he was gonna come out of it redeemed or as a hero, and he knew it. He went straight up Walter White core here and like Walter White, he is not a hero.

The fact that the Marlayans have been constantly going to war with other countries using Eldians as their personal soldiers goes to show that for countries that seek out conquest, there's no target too small or insignificant that can't be marked as an "enemy", and we see that reflected in Eren as well, in his pursuing of "freedom", an ever-moving goalpost that can never truly be satisfied.

The Jaegerists were hellbent on creating a new empire on the bloodshed of Marley - 'an eye for an eye', so to speak.

Nothing was ever going to truly satisfy either 'side' in the conflict of humanity vs. Eldians because such conflicts' origins have been obfuscated in hundreds of years of history, propaganda, and generational trauma that has repeated itself for so long that many don't even know what they're fighting for anymore, aside from one thing - that they don't want to suffer, that they shouldn't have to suffer for the actions of their ancestors, that they want peace and happiness but don't know where to start with taking the first step.

I think people are disappointed in this ending because, let's face it, it's anime, and it's an anime adaption that took years to finish. We always want to see some kind of vindication from stories like these, but I think in having vindication, it ultimately removes the point altogether of what's being said.

As much as we may try to fight it, try to deny it, the course of human history travels in a circle. Conflict will always arise. History is written by the victors, and those victors will be seen as heroes by whichever side they're fighting for regardless of what heinous acts they may have committed to justify their salvation. And after all of that conflict, regardless of the result - time goes on, and new conflicts arise.

But I don't think that means we have to succumb to grief and suffering and that's a point that I'm seeing missed in a lot of the discussion around the finale. There's a very powerful scene between Armin and Zeke, in which Armin talks about how he was born to run up the hill with Mikasa and Eren. He recognizes fully that if his life isn't meant to be long, he can still cherish those small moments that he thinks back on fondly, the moments that defined his life with the people he cared about.

And that's really all life is. Small moments and experiences that stick with us until the end. The very act of being born in and of itself is a cosmic miracle that gives us the chance to experience things that bring us joy and stay with us forever - however short or long that 'forever' may be. We take these small moments for granted when we're comfortable, but we look for them the most when we're suffering.

If I can relate all this to another piece of media that says the same thing - albeit with a much brighter ending - FF XIV: Endwalker also asks a similar question to Attack on Titan - is the only meaning in life to suffer and die? Of course, by its end, we learn that while death and suffering is an inevitable part of life - not something that should be avoided - it shouldn't persuade us to give in to fear and despair as a constant state of being. And I think Attack on Titan goes for a very similar approach, albeit slightly more as a cautionary tale - a nihilistic reminder that ultimately, the losses and victories we find in our current point of history are still just that, a single point, a blip that will be forgotten until it's ultimately repeated, and there's no escaping that.

It cautions us that freedom cannot exist without constant vigilance for war and conflict. It cautions us that our values and core beliefs for attaining freedom, love and happiness can be twisted into a weapon to cause harm, vindication gained at the cost of another. It cautions us that when left in the wrong hands, power can and will be abused by the ignorant while propagandizing itself as "the greater good".

So why not just find the joy that we can? The friendships, the little moments, the things that bring us happiness even if only temporary. Conflict is inevitable, suffering is inevitable, but that doesn't mean life isn't worth living. "Happiness" is not a tangible end point - it's the side effect of living a meaningful life that's true to yourself.

Attack on Titan is over. Some will argue the ending was the only way, others will argue that there could have been another way and that the anime adaption had the chance to change it but still didn't for reasons beyond their comprehension.

But isn't that the whole point? We'll argue. We'll bargain. Many of the arguments made will reinforce our own beliefs further rather than sway us. Many of us will insist there had to be another way, just as Armin insisted that this couldn't have been the only way, that humanity must have had another option. Meanwhile, many of us will acknowledge that at the end of the day, this is the story Isayama wanted to tell, and regardless of whether or not it makes him an idiot toying with his audience and admitting defeat by lampshading it in the penultimate scene of Eren admitting to his own idiocy, this was the power given to him and he used it in the best way he knew how.

Much like in any conflict, there's one thing that unites both sides - the human need for joy, connection, and freedom.

We might not agree on how Attack on Titan ended, but we can agree that it was a hell of a ride, and I hope we can all agree that it was worth riding, even if it wasn't satisfying for everyone in the end. It brought many people together regardless of their backgrounds, experiences, and differences, and connected them through something they all loved for over ten years. And despite how big a part of our lives it was, life will still go on, and we'll move on to other things to watch, enjoy, and argue over. Isayama will move on to whatever awaits him next, knowing fully well that his choice was his own, that he created the series he wanted to create regardless of how people feel about it. We'll all look for our own forms of joy and happiness as life moves on around us, as conflicts come and go.

Isn't that really what freedom is at the end of the day?

#also ok i know this turned into a philosophical post but like #i'm still just talking about fucking anime #so please for the love of god i don't want to be seeing anyone using this post as a way to play devil's advocate on real actual war crimes #human conflict in and of itself is an enigmatic inevitability but blatant actions of genocide and colonization are not #and that was made VERY clear by the end of the series through eldians and marlayans putting aside their differences to take out eren #also ymir being in love with king fritz was a bit of a weird thing to do but that's for another post #i think it spoke more to her just being that desperate for connection that she fell into an abusive relationship #but idk it could have been executed better esp because a lot of the 'romance' in AoT is weird #still i really enjoyed the finale tbh and i don't think we're supposed to be left feeling strictly one way about it #the fact that we're arguing over whether or not the finale was good is literally just proving isayama right ngl LOL #attack on titan #attack on titan finale #attack on titan spoilers #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin finale #shingeki no kyojin spoilers #essay post #long post #tw genocide #tw war

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afrogmentioned · 25 days

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The Invitation

Itadori Yuuji, a young Japanese-American man, finds himself without a family after his grandfather's death. Despite his strong bond with his friends Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, he reconnects with his long-lost family through a DNA test. Unfortunately, they see an opportunity where he sees a family.

wc: 1,024

ship: sukuita

characters: Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, (Choso, Sukuna, Uraume -> not here yet)

notes: creating my JJK tumblr and balancing my fics (1) here before posting again (fingers crossed)

PART ONE: SALVATION

CHAPTER ONE: ALONE NO MORE

The tag of his white shirt was rubbing against Yuuji's nape, he should have cut it before leaving his flat he thought for a while. The little piece of fabric was slowly getting on his nerves, and the fundraiser kept on going as if it would never stop. He almost sighed as he went past a woman in what was probably a month's worth of his salary. Yuuji smiled and showed the tray he was holding:

“Beef carpaccio?” He offered the woman. She looked him up and down and ignored him.

Yuuji kept walking through the crowd. One man got close enough to smell him and recognizing the sweet honeyed scent of an omega, he winked at him. Yuuji almost barfed in his mouth. He looked back at the bar where Nobara was filling the champagne glass, looking as if she wanted to open her wrists with a broken flute. Yuuji chuckled and kept asking around him if people wanted to eat beef carpaccio. One woman didn’t even turn and shushed him as she watched whatever CEO talking about his company's annual growth. He couldn’t wait until this was over.

Megumi was already in the kitchen putting food in plastic containers for them to take home. Yuuji almost begged him to leave the beef carpaccio out of his, he couldn’t even handle the smell of it now that he had carried a tray of raw meat the entire evening. Megumi’s tips were on the table waiting for Yuuji’s and Nobara’s, they would slip the total amount into three, and sometimes, depending on their finances, one of them would get a bigger cut to be able to pay their rent.

Nobara opened the doors to the kitchen and sighed loudly before trashing her heels. She fetched the tips from her pockets and slammed the money on the countertop. Yuuji started counting when a small bag dropped in front of him and another in front of Megumi:

“I managed to snatch three of them,” Nobara grinned. “I think there is wine in it.”

“Drunkard,” Yuuji teased still counting the bills.

“Ass, You’re letting me sleep at yours as an apology.”

Megumi snorted before he closed the last plastic container and handed it to Nobara. He pocketed his share of the tips and turned to face Nobara:

“I got one ass grazing,” he said matter-of-factly. Nobara whistled.

“Boobs ogling, I’m not mad I’m pretty sure I got bigger tips because of it.”

“One ass squeeze and a couple of rude sniffs,” Yuuji smiled from where he stood.

“Fucking alphas,” Nobara sighed.

In the end, Megumi and Nobara slept at Yuuji’s, they knew it was his birthday. Even if he didn’t say anything, Yuuji felt relieved to spend the evening with them. It was only his second birthday since his grandfather had passed, and last year had been miserable, Yuuji was determined to spend a better one this year.

Toothbrush between her teeth, Nobara opened his bathroom door and poked her head into the living room:

“Whot wash it about twuday?”

“Some kind of genealogy tree with DNA,” Megumi answered speaking fluently mouthful Nobara.

“I shink there is a free techt in the bags.”

Yuuji looked in his gift bag and found a small bottle of white wine, chocolates and plastic wrapping which would change his life forever. A house kit DNA test. Megumi was staring at him from his side of the couch:

“You wanna try?” Yuuji asked.

“Nah, got enough disappointing family members with my dad, I don’t need more. You?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuji hesitated. “It’s just, it’s always been my grandad and me. And now I feel kind of alone, I know I have you guys but sometimes I just want to know where I came from and stuff, what was the deal with my family,” Megumi didn’t answer for a while.

“It’s your decision Yuuji, you’re more my family than my dad, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Yuuji answered slowly eaten by guilt. Megumi was his family too, and Nobara too. But sometimes, in the loneliness of his flat, he couldn’t be sure of his place in the world.

“Dude, do the test, maybe you’re an heir to a big family or something. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a test,” Megumi added. “I don’t know how it feels to be alone, to have no one to call family. I got my mom’s side and Tsumiki. What I want to say is: do it if you want to.”

“Thanks,” Yuuji mumbled. Megumi wasn’t always the most articulate, it probably took a lot from him to say all of that. It felt like a lot to Yuuji. “You’re like a brother to me, you know that?”

Megumi didn’t answer but he smiled at him and dropped his head against Yuuji’s shoulder. Nobara went to sit on the other side of Yuuji and dropped herself over him, she had probably been listening to them. She smelled of mint toothpaste and Megumi of the caramel candies he had been eating. Yuuji sighed, slowly he felt his shoulders relax and the nagging headache he had had for a while receded. It felt like a home. Like a family. He enjoyed it, tomorrow his flat would be cold and empty.

Yuuji dropped the DNA test in the mail. It was just a stupid test like Megumi said. It didn’t mean anything and it would probably not show any result. For all he knew he was a simple Japanese-American man whose family had immigrated in the late nineteenth century. He probably had estranged cousins or no one at all. Determined to forget all about it Yuuji went back to his normal life as a waiter and artist. He focused even more on his tasks in order to have his brain focus on something else than refreshing his ancestry page. He didn’t talk about it with Megumi or Nobara too happy to spend time with them when they could meet up. Until one evening, when he was cutting the cucumbers to make tzatziki his phone beeped.

Congratulations

You have one (1) DNA match!

Masterpost

Next Chapter

Chapter List

#what i write #fanfiction #suku/ita #sukuita #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #ryomen sukuna #my fics

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pearlszns · 2 months

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#. ( last updated 26.4.24 )

— please do not plagiarize, translate, or redistribute my work. reblogs, likes, and replies are always welcome. i always appreciate comments or feedback. don’t be afraid to give me notes of active reading── i love reading these

spider man intro the spider verse ── gwen stacy . .

JEALOUS GIRL [ jealous! gwen stacy x ( f! ) spider woman reader ]

just headcanons about jealous gwen :3. .

CLINGING TO WHATS HER’S [ gwen stacy x ( f! ) reader ]

At a busy party, you are sitting down looking to get Gwen's drinks.The time seems long and a somebody's overbearing advances irritate you until Gwen comes to your rescue. Her admiration is a bond between you but the suspense grows as the night progresses. Face-to-face conversation makes Gwen to walk away, her anger being noticeable, as you run away from the awkward situation. On the way back home, you both are as angry as the other, but it is just a silent agreement about the unusual events and of how strong your team is.

UNDER THE MISTLETOE [ chistmas special! gwen stacy x ( f! ) reader ]

In the midst of white magic of Christmas Eve, you, regretting, went to the host for a party that your friend was giving, Mary. Because of inherent shyness at first but, as kind words came from everyone, your heart started to melt away your doubt. The day took a twist in a turn when you bumped into Gwen, a friend who revived a part in you that you had kept hidden for a long time. Surprisingly, the night revealed shared glances together with stolen moments that became the peak of a sweet confession and a kiss under the mistletoe. After a soft kiss, you and Gwen began a new chapter having touched the sides of conscience and the clip of happiness to a background that was encased with the snow of winter.

RESPONSIBILITIES [ busy gf! gwen stacy x ( f! ) reader ]

Gwen had been swamped with responsibilities lately, leaving little time for the two of you to spend together. In an attempt to make amends, she planned a special date at the park and promised to pick you up. However, she failed to show up, leaving you frustrated and disappointed. As you stewed over her broken promise and unanswered messages, Gwen returned from her patrol, anticipating your frustration. Despite the potential for an argument, both of you cherished your relationship deeply. Recognizing her mistake, Gwen resolved to make it up to you, determined to show her love and commitment despite the challenges life threw your way.

percy jackson & the olympians ── luke castellan. .

SALVATION’S EMBRACE [ luke castellan x ( f! ) reader ]

Luke Castellan, a cynical individual who harbors doubts about love and happy endings. However, his perspective shifts when he meets someone who breaks down his emotional barriers with their kindness. Despite Luke's past mistakes and inner turmoil, he finds himself drawn to this person, feeling a deep connection and longing for them. They share intimate moments together, their affection growing stronger despite Luke's attempts to resist. However, their moment of intimacy is interrupted by Percy, a friend seeking advice, momentarily disrupting their connection.

WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER [ luke castellan x ( f! ) Aphrodite child! reader ]

You and Luke had been inseparable since the moment you set foot in camp, your bond as tight as the knots in a sailor's rope. Like two lost puppies, you followed each other through the trials and tribulations of camp life, finding solace and companionship in each other's presence. But as time passed, Luke's feelings for you blossomed into something more, his crush growing stronger with each passing day. Despite your unwavering friendship, there were moments of awkwardness, like the ill-fated attempt at a lakeside "date" that ended with a slap on Luke's cheek when you discovered his intentions. Yet, even in the aftermath of that awkward encounter, your bond remained unbroken, though Luke's feelings for you hung in the air like a lingering scent. Everything changed when you returned from summer break, transformed into a vision of ethereal beauty that left Luke reeling with a mixture of awe and frustration. Though he longed to have you all to himself, the praise heaped upon you by others only served to intensify his feelings of inadequacy. And when you were claimed by Aphrodite, the Goddess of beauty herself, it felt like a cruel twist of fate, a reminder of the insurmountable barrier that stood between them. Despite his best efforts to ignore the whispers of jealousy that gnawed at his insides, Luke couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness as he watched you bask in the adoration of others, knowing that he should be the one doing it.

CRAVED BY YOU [ luke castellan x ( f! ) reader ]

In the story, Luke and the narrator, long-time best friends, navigate their evolving relationship during a sleepover. Luke, still a virgin, confides in the narrator about feeling insecure due to teasing from friends. The narrator reassures Luke, expressing their deep care and attraction. They share a tender moment of exploration, culminating in their first sexual encounter. As they engage intimately, both experience a mix of excitement, nervousness, and pleasure. The narrator guides Luke through the experience with patience and affection, deepening their emotional connection. Luke's vulnerability strengthens their bond, and they find comfort and pleasure in each other's embrace. The experience marks a significant milestone in their relationship, opening up new depths of intimacy and understanding between them. Despite initial nerves, their shared trust and affection pave the way for a beautiful and fulfilling experience, solidifying their romantic connection.

#𐙚˚ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ navigation #ᥫ᭡₊ ⊹greetings from yours truly .ᐟ ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy x you #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy #pjo series #pjo x you #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan

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dopamineeymineymoo · 1 year

Text

suspension bridges || ghost x f!medic!reader pt. 2

synopsis: you are an army doctor, callsign salvi, who had been on the field for even before you'd gotten that title. you'd been reassigned into task force 1-4-1 after your own taskforce had dissolved when it'd fulfilled its duty. you're a familiar face to multiple operators within the taskforce. one of them knows you for far longer than the rest.

warnings: medical inaccuracies, army inaccuracies, some medical jargon, some gore, implied medical procedures, inexperienced writer, physical rehab

author's note before we begin: I hope you enjoy this chapter, imagine if this turns out to be a slow burn lol-- nah don't worry, it likely won't end like this. slight rivals-to-lovers, i've got an image of their dynamic at least.

[pt 1], [this is pt. 2], [part 3 to be posted]

2022, early into the year

Information on you has been placed into an envelope on the request of one Captain.

Commissioned Officer (O-3). Callsign Salvi. Along that, your full name and picture is paper-clipped into the envelope. Within it are your records– not pristine, not in the slightest, but valuable.

Laswell eyes it, recognizing the name. “Seems ambitious to request to have her on, Price.” She says, “This one’s been newly put back into Reserves since the previous Task Force had dissolved.”

“A task force?” Price questions. “Hadn’t she been in the reserves since she’d taken up Residency?”

She shakes her head. “Took to the field quite quickly, agreed to help handle a dispute off-the-books in the Philippines.” Laswell intertwines her fingers in front of her, looking up at Price. “Went on for three years before it dissolved. Mission accomplished.”

Price hums, crossing his arms. He’d placed your file next to the rest of the team. “This team requires someone they can trust to take that role– this is the best case scenario.” He looks down on the paper, frowning in confusion at the new addition on the details.

“Salvi?” He chuckles, tilting his head. “Didn’t know that she’d finally gotten a callsign. This late into the game, too.”

“You’ve worked with her?”

“She was a Lieutenant at the time– was on my Alpha Team for three years until she had to leave to pursue medicine.” Price grins. “Didn’t have a callsign back then.”

Laswell eyes the name, “It was the previous task force that dubbed her this.” She told him.

“What for?”

“Salvation, for one.” Laswell hums, “Renowned to keep anyone salvageable alive, less soldiers discharged. It’s what got her promoted in the first place.”

“For another?”

“The task force was assigned to aid the Filipino Special Forces.” The woman opens the envelope herself, and takes out a set of papers– some blacked out information, some aren’t. She hands it to Price to look at. “Took out the leader of a Syndicate based in Visayan islands– they were harboring a renown Ultranationalist.” Further information was blacked out.

Price stared at the blacked out paper, all-too familiar with the sight of information being classified. Still, he’s rather surprised that you’d have been involved with something so deep into the books that it’d be this blanked out. “Why Salvi, then, other than ‘Salvation’?”

“Salbahe. Savage.” Laswell told him. “Compliments by the local army, insults by the enemy. She was… brutal.”

“Bloody on the field?”

She shakes her head. “Sure. But mostly because of interrogation. The Army had the all-clear to do it– surprisingly easy to cut red-tape. She took the role.” Laswell says. She places the papers back inside the envelope. “There’s a reason why most of this information is classified, Price.”

Price shakes his head, looking down at her picture with a mix of pity and pride. Interrogation– he can’t imagine that you’d stomached it well when you started. You didn’t look the part.

***

2001

It was Monday when you next met Simon Riley. While seemingly a neutral force to be reckoned with in the beginning, he’s now showing his true colors when it comes to rehabilitation. It’s nothing malicious. Not at all. It was more concerning, if anything.

You could tell that he’s insistent on getting better.

He’s pushing himself. And it’s doing more harm than good when it comes to your plan of care.

Day two was uneventful, but somehow you knew where to look– how to look at this. You’re given a set amount of time in watching over your patient, and he isn’t the only patient that day that you’d come to see. However, you knew what made him special.

He’d been stubborn to call you by your rank instead.

“Of course, Lieutenant.”, “Yes Ma’am.”, “Yes Lieutenant.”

Not that it matters. Many of those who had been under your care were stubborn to a fault. Loyal to the rank. It’s certainly better than the alternative where they’d look down at you for being a lot less inexperienced in their field.

You’d humbly and gently reminded them that you fought your battles in a much different field. One that they’d be all the more stranger too than you’d be in theirs. The clinic is a battle in its own, where your own soldiers were who you’d be fighting.

This is where he met you– a commissioned officer, Second Lieutenant. You hadn’t gotten your callsign yet, so it had always just been ‘Lieutenant’ for him. You were the Physical Therapist who specialized in his rehabilitation. You were young, not too far from his own age, but young for the army.

With barely any field experience.

You’d been on the field, yes, but you hadn’t had as much of a chance to really do anything worth a single chest candy yet. You hadn’t had men die on the field, but you’ve heard horror stories among your peers.

So you couldn’t possibly understand the frustration or his restlessness, but you could imagine. Simon Riley is the type of man who preferred to be useful, but with having to recover from peroneal nerve damage and that annoying slap of his foot every time he had to take a step with his right leg.

It wasn’t tactical. It was distracting. It felt like deadweight, to be like this.

One day turned into two– you saw him next, on the Monday following that first week. He'd already sat on one of the chairs at the front desk of the clinic, waiting for you to clock in.

You’d been embarrassed at having your patient come up before you did to the clinic, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only seemed determined to get through it.

The second day comes to an end with you having to physically restrain him from doing too much. You could see from the clench of his teeth that he’s pushing himself– he needs a lighter exercise and stretch intensity.

You modify it, revising it and writing it onto the SOAP documents.

The third day, and he isn’t happy with the new changes but he obliges anyway.

Fourth, and he’s insisting that he’s doing better and trying to get you to increase the intensity. You don’t budge.

It was the first week into it when you noticed how it’s still swelling. It’s worse, even. Chronic swelling of an injury is indicative of a few things, but you had a hunch.

“Riley.” You’d called out when you’d assessed his knee. You’d noticed it from the way he’d walked in. The struggle. The attempt at infallibility, to get that foot away from the ground before it’d make a sound. He’d overly compensate for the clumsiness of his right lower extremity by exerting much more force, height, and momentum from his left. Overcompensation from the orthotic device. You could get someone to fix that, but that’s not the main issue here.

You notice the pain, the frustration. It’d only strain him in the long run.

You don’t tell him that. Instead, you tell him to rest while you work on his charts.

He’s surprisingly obedient, despite being stubborn at any other given occasion.

You’re new, sure, but this isn’t your first rodeo with patients like this. Who think that they could get better though determination alone– while it is an admirable feat, it isn’t everything. None of patience.

Upon finishing your charts, you walk forwards, shoulders placed back. With him sat, you’re able to look down at him, and this is when you’d feel truly superior. Rank or not. “Report to me what you know about the injuries you sustained during your last mission.”

He answers without pause. “I got shot in the right leg on the way to RV with the rest of the team. Medical had reported that I’d injured my peroneal nerve.” He states, looking straight ahead of him while he sits attentively.

You hum. That’s not really complete. “What of your sciatic nerve?”

“Due to physical combat and a fall where I’d landed on my kit wrong, I’d acquired trauma to the sciatic nerve.” Simon tells you.

“What were the interventions they’d done for this?”

“Surgery.”

“On what, Sergeant?”

“On the sciatic nerve, then when things weren’t getting any better they worked on my knee.”

“Why are you here?”

“Was advised for Physical Rehab, ma’am.”

You nod. “Exactly.” You go on your knee, doffing the orthotic device. “I know you’re frustrated over wearing this thing, but do try to take care of it.”

His case was a mix of trauma and overuse. It was alright, initially. Nothing that a few stitches, pain medicine, and bedrest couldn’t fix– but after a period of time his right leg started to experience sharp-shooting pain, nearly electric, and whether or not his knee had gone weak because of it wasn’t to his knowledge.

Now he’s stuck with wearing a damned orthotic device– something called a dial-locked hip orthosis, circumferential around his waist, and with a metal bar or two attached to a more distal circumferential brace around his thigh. It was used to deal with the trauma against his sciatic nerve until he could be better.

And yet another for his knee, and his ankle because it keeps slapping down the ground when he’d step. It was getting damned hard to move around in this thing– while it was lightweight, material made out of thermoplastic and velcro, it made it hard to do his job.

“Your frustration won’t make it better.” You tell him. “I’m not telling you what you feel about it– hell, I’d be pissed too. But if you keep this up then your prognosis likely isn’t gonna look good.” Upon removing the orthotic device, you set it aside and guide him to raise his foot on an elevated surface. You assess it, seeing it swollen and much worse than you’d last seen it.

There’s no response despite the long bout of silence you’d given to him. “Am I understood, Sergeant?”

“Yes ma’am.” Riley responds.

And that was it. He hadn’t pushed, and he’d improved.

For a first meeting, it didn’t seem much. It’s not like you’d expect to find him again. The world is a big place after all. You hadn’t been able to see the end of his recovery months later.

It’d be the end of the next year when you’d meet him again.

***

2022, current

You watch out for any stray enemies as the rest of the team enter the truck. There is a certain degree of certainty that they’d either ran off or been finished off. Still, you don’t let your guard down.

When everyone had entered, you’d slid up the truck and taken your seat.

You sit at the back of the truck, keeping an eye outside despite having been surrounded by the rest of the special ops team. You’d cleared the area for the arrival of the Mexican Special Forces you’d been told about.

Something about Las Almas, you remember. You’d read what you could about the achievements of the team, and seeing your rank as Captain gave you enough clearance about these missions, you’d read enough to know what they’re likely going to be dealing with. Still, it confuses you what the plan of action is.

With things finally calmed down, you look up at the new company. You recognize him. “Colonel Alejandro.” You greet with a nod.

You hear your name and rank as he acknowledges your greeting. “You can call me Salvi.” You say. “A lot shorter.”

“Salvi?”

“Enemies dubbed her Salvaje.” Price says, knowing that you don’t mind that information getting spread. It’s not like anything could keep that under wraps, nor did it really matter to you. Your own team had been loud on that in the first place– your old team, that is. This is your team now, no matter how short it’s been.

Alejandro’s eyebrows raise. “And you’re alright with being called that?”

“I don’t mind.”

“”Sides, allies refer to her as Salvation– bit of a mouthful, so Salvi works just as well.” Gaz says.

“Salvaje, Salvacion.” Alejandro nods appreciatively. “Fitting for an esteemed Army Doctor.”

“Flattered, Colonel.” You hum, looking at the rest of the boys. “Appreciate you guys introducing me for my sake, boys, but that’s not getting you guys out of the heat. I don’t like it when you don’t report injuries correctly.” You snort, eyeing Ghost who only sends you a side-eye.

“You said yourself that it’s nothin’ serious.” he retorts.

“It’s not like you knew that, did you?” You snark back, before turning to Alejandro to answer. “But yes, feel free to call me Salvi. The medic of the team.”

“The best field medic there is.” Price adds.

“Seems like a low bar when ‘the best’ is subjected to entering a warzone blind.” You retort. “Not even a debrief. Shame, Price. shame.”

“Desperate times, lass.” He chuckles. “I didn’t expect to have to need you on the field so soon either. Thought you’d have more time being acquainted with the clinic before the next assignment.”

“Well I’m here now.” You tell him. “I’d like to be a little bit more informed on what we’re doing out here, Cap.”

Price looks at Alejandro, as if asking silently if the driver has enough clearance to overhear the topic of conversation. Upon getting his approval, you can trust him, Price tells you what exactly you’re doing here.

Ghost is silent at the backseat, sat a good distance away from you as you get briefed on your goal. He’d always been the silent type, but you’d known him to have a snark to him on his good days, rare as it may be.

***

2002

The next time you meet Sergeant Simon Riley, it’s during a briefing. You’ve been assigned to a different team who’d be needing a medic of your level for how important this is going to be and for how difficult and time-consuming it’d take for exfil to arrive according to schedule.

Seeing familiar faces in the army was nothing special for someone who’d been stationed in the ‘saving soldiers’ department. He wasn’t significant at the time.

Maybe it was the heat of the field.

Gunshots echo in your eyes as you cling your back to the wall for cover. You gasp, finding breathing hard for just a moment. “Ah,” you groan, trying not to be too loud in case you interrupt the important exchange over comms– one that you’d disturbed the moment you even let out a sound at the same time a gun is shot. “Fuck.” You hiss, patting yourself, assessing the damage. You realize that you’re not bleeding— good, but it still hurts like a bitch.

“You solid, Lt.?” You hear the concerned voice of your captain ring from the adjacent wall.

“Solid, cap.” You groan. “Hit the plate– I’ll live.”

“Good, none of us can help you as well as you can help us kid.” Your Captain chuckles, but there’s that concern evident in his voice. “How’s overwatch doing out there!”

Sergeant Riley responds over comms. “Bravo 1-5; Don’t have good sight from here. Can’t land a clean hit.”

“Bravo 1-4, one tango down, over.”

“Great job, boys.” You hear your captain’s grin over the voice. “Anyone in need of medic support?”

“Negative, appreciate the company though.” One of your teammates quip. “Feel a bit more confident in our odds of keeping a leg this mission.”

“Don’t test that luck of yours, Vermin.” You chuckle over comms. “I’m a good shot in two ways but if you lose a leg it ain’t coming off of my paycheck.” You tell them, and you hear a series of chuckles.

“Maybe your callsign should be Stingy.”

“Get your head back in the game Robin, I need you sharp out there.” You hear someone quip over comms. “And don’t be so boring Robin, Stingy? Really? Corny.”

You chuckle, the pain of the impact on your chest fading in the face of the interaction.

“You good, newbie?” You’ve been in the army for three years now, newbie is a bit of an insult— not that you mind. The amount of times you’ve really been on the field really does warrant that name.

“As good as I can be, Cap.” You smile, before returning to your post.

You’re new, yes, and you can feel the coldness of fear at the tips of your digits, but you know what to do. You’ve trained, despite not being on the field often. There’s not much you can do with your lack of experience but what you do know is the routine that your training had instilled onto you.

The vigilance stays. Fear is nothing in the face of duty, after all.

So you move according to your captain’s orders, take down enemy after enemy before–

You hear a frustrated groan over comms, and you still. Taking cover immediately before you turn on your comm to get details on what had happened. “What’s your status Sergeant Riley?” You demand over comms.

“Solid, moving posts to get a clearer shot.”

That isn’t a good idea. His position right now is heated, and any indication of his position would lead to more eyes on him. You don’t like his odds.

“Copy, stay safe up there Riley.” The Captain says, and your eyes are wide.

“Captain–”

“He’ll be okay, we’ll cover him.” He reassures. You nod, and you do your job– not as a medic, but as a soldier.

One down, then two. Five. Six–

There’s a guttural yell over comms, “Bravo 1-5, I’ve been hit.” Sergeant Riley yells.

You duck immediately for cover, and switch on your comms. “Permission to move up to Sergeant Riley’s post.”

“A bit risky, Lieutenant.”

“Gotta let me do my job, cap.”

You can see him think, weighing his options. Even you don’t know what the things he’s weighing over in his head– your life or Riley’s? The reputation? The strategy? The mission?

Whatever it is, it was in her and Riley’s favor.

“Boys I’m sending the doc up to get Riley on his feet.” Your captain announces over comms. “Take the heat off of them, you hear me?”

There’s a chorus of affirms, and you feel your nerves tingling with cold. You realize what this could mean. If you aren’t vigilant, this could very well be your last mission.

Then you realize– you’ve had this same epiphany every mission where you needed to save your teammates’ lives.

“I’ll tell you when it’s clear to move up,” You hear.

One moment, two, and you get the signal to move. You don’t get complacent just because you’ve got your team covering your ass. On your way up, you switch on your comm. “Sergeant Riley, what’s your status?” You call,

“Hit.” He grunts.

“Anything more helpful than that, Sergeant?”

“I’m still alive, likely will stay alive.” He snarks. “You can stay down there, Lieutenant. I’ll be fine here.”

“No need to tell me how to do my job, Sergeant Riley.” You spit, irritated. Between focusing on getting there quickly and staying alive, you’d really hate having to handle a martyr who’d rely on fucking stims to stay alive for a few minutes more before you’re handed a worse problem.

There’s a chuckle over comms, and you recognize your captain speaking. “Sergeant Riley, be more compliant? Our doc is doin’ you a favor here.”

“Yes, sir.” You hear.

You exhale.

It isn’t the first time you’ve had to deal with someone like Sergeant Riley. There are plenty soldiers like him in the military, plenty of horror stories with the same type of character but with different names. It isn’t unusual to be faced with issues like these.

Sergeant Riley was supposed to be one of those many names.

Still, despite the frequency of it, it doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

By the end of the mission, you save his ass as well as two others who were fortunately a lot more compliant.

This is one of numerable missions you’ve had with this team.

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navstuffs · 8 months

Text

The Sacrifice

Pairing: CultLeader!Toji Zenin x GN!Reader

Summary: Toji has found the perfect virgin to be sacrificed to his God.

Warning tags: 18+, HORROR, DARK FIC, GORE, TORTURE, blood, Zenin are a cult and worship Kynda (random god's name), some yandere!behaviour, cult! behavior

Author's Notes: honestly, i couldn't leave toji with just Megumi's imaginary friend. i had to focus and do a better job for him cause my man deserves it. enjoy!!

my halloween's masterlist

Some people are born for greatness, such as Toji Zenin. Determined to be the Zenin leader since his birth, eagerly expected by the rest of the members of the Zenin clan, Toji has been prepared to fulfill his destiny: to guide his people into a better world.

Everything started when Toji's great-great-grandfather received a message from Kynda, their god. Kynda told Toji's ancestor when the right time came, Kynda would save them from all calamity and despair to a better world. The Zenins had always been unique, and no one was more worthy of salvation than them.

Kynda instructed Toji's ancestor to create a new society, with Their rules, away from the perverted and modern one. The Zenins quickly found a spot in the middle of the mountains, further from the city, and constructed their sanctuary there.

Kynda's rules were pretty simple:

Kynda sees everything. Kynda knows everything. You are always under Their supervision.

Everyone was equal under Their observant eye.

To fail was expected, and you could fail many times. Kynda wouldn't judge you.

No matter the crime, no matter the wrongdoing, Kynda always forgives.

There was, nonetheless, the most significant rule. The one that no Zenin should ever break: "To love Kynda above everything and everyone else. You should never place a human, an object of desire; nothing should come above Kynda in your heart." If a Zenin devoted their heart and soul to Kynda, they would be blessed to lay in Kynda's arms for eternity after their passing.

Toji's duty has been predestined. Passed down from generation to generation, waiting for a signal from Kynda. The access to get out of Earth: "The sacrifice of a virgin would take them to eternal paradise."

After long years of waiting, the Zenins finally had their answer when their prominent priest received a message directly from Kynda, declaring it was time and the weight of that task was on the shoulders of their Leader and Chosen One, Toji Zenin.

May Kynda bless him.

Your screams can be heard begging for clemency when two cloaked members bring you from the dungeon you have been kept for the last two weeks. Two weeks without the sunlight, two weeks without knowing what happened to you. Asked repeatedly if you were a virgin, just a poor hitchhiker kidnapped by one of the members who allegedly swore on his life that Kynda demanded it had to be you.

When Toji laid his eyes on your frightened form when you were first brought before him, he knew you were perfect. He didn't know the reason; maybe Kynda speaking inside of him, but looking inside your terrified eyes confirmed you could just have been chosen by Kynda.

Your eyes wander across the enclosed space filled with browned, cloaked people. No one lands you a helping hand or cares about you, simply watching you being taken away until a sacrifice altar. Standing behind it, the man who you recognize as the leader of this cult, the only one you had seen the face before, his eyes glowing with the light of the torches.

As you are placed down on the altar and strained with ropes in your legs and wrists, Toji starts chanting for Kynda with his deep voice, and he is soon followed by the rest of their members. You had never heard such horrible sounds, sounds that shouldn't belong to this Earth.

"Please, don't do this! PLEASE!" You scream, the fear of dying palpable in your voice.

"The moment has finally arrived: the time for our ascending into Holy Kynda's blessed lands! We will finally join our ancestors, waiting for us in Eternal paradise!" Toji announces, his loud voice echoing through the cave.

There is a low murmur in agreement, and you start crying. Toji's green eyes cross with yours for a moment, not showing any empathy or sign of pity. This man will kill you, there is no doubt about that! You try to fight against the ropes, to no avail, screaming louder for them not to do this, but Toji's mouth silences you.

"We offer you this human as a sacrifice, Kynda."

Toji takes the sharp dagger from the table's corner, and your eyes widen. You try to squirm more and more, but with the ropes and Toji's firm grip on your lips, you can do nothing. He doesn't see you as a human, just an obstacle to his objective.

When the knife finally penetrates your skin straight into your stomach, you barely feel it. It doesn't hurt at first until Toji pulls out. Toji raises and stabs you again, this time in your chest. You scream in his hand, the tears coming down your face. You hear the silence from people watching this, your eyes and mind trying to find a way, any miracle way, for you to live.

But there is none.

Toji watches as you die. He observes as you take your last breath, closing your eyes. Toji thanks Kynda for the opportunity and closes his eyes in respect, followed by the rest of the members praying for a moment in Kynda's name.

Nothing happens when Toji opens his eyes. There is no sign of Kynda, no light coming above his head, no sudden appearance, nothing. The Zenins are still in the same place Kynda indicated long ago where to make the sacrifice: no sound of heavenly music and no mystical door opening to Eternal paradise.

The first thing Toji notices is the black liquid coming out from your body. Your semi-open mouth, your ears, the cuts in your skin. A black viscose and thick liquid start dripping down the altar, flowing down the floor where the rest of his clan stands, the dagger still in your chest. Toji realizes he can't move: an invisible force keeps Toji strained, watching as your head slowly turns in his direction.

This has got to be a test. Some sort of nightmare. Some sort of...

You open your eyes, but they aren't human anymore: they are dark as the night sky with no stars. A victorious grin appears on your lips as you stare into Toji's soul: a chill he had never felt before in his entire life makes his skin crawl. His attention is momentarily taken away from you by the screams of his members, raising his eyesight to a horrible scene.

The rest of the Zenins are exploding. Every single one of them. Exploding in the same black viscose liquid that comes out of your body. Some try to run away, but when the liquid penetrates their skin, it leaves them screaming on the floor in pain until their body explodes. Toji can't look anymore as his whole entire family gets killed. He looks down, watching you pull the dagger from your chest, slowly raising yourself from the altar.

"Oh, Toji. You really forgot Kynda sees everything." You whisper, walking toward Toji's immobile form. The size difference so clear before, with you fragile and weak, doesn't mean anything anymore: you are in control now.

"I don't, I don't—"

"You didn't think I would have discovered your other family, didn't you?" You reply, sarcastic, playing with the dagger in your hand, the word "other" carried with disgust.

No. Oh, no.

With uttermost horror, his wife and son's faces come to mind. Toji didn't think much when he met that fierce woman and married her, having a child with her. Toji convinced himself he would never love them as much as he loved Kynda; Toji kept them a secret, away from all this, because deep down, he wanted to ensure their safety. When he realized he started loving them more than he loved Kynda, he ran away. Came back to the Zenins, hoping Kynda would forgive him.

Kynda sees with disgust those who betray Their trust and their love.

"You knew the rule: never love anyone more than me. And you failed me. You failed the most important job you had in your entire miserable and pathetic life." You gesture to the tragedy behind you before turning back to him. No one is alive anymore as the liquid returns to your body. "But now, it's over. And you will be mine for the rest of eternity."

You stab Toji in his gut, making him fall to his knees, crouching in pain. He doesn't make a noise to which you are thankful. But you aren't killing him, oh no. That would be a waste.

You spit a bit of the black liquid in your hands, forcing Toji to open his mouth and swallow. He has no chance. If he had been lucky enough, you could have killed him.

No one ever betrays Kynda without consequences. Toji had ruined his entire clan and destroyed his whole bloodline. His destiny. His last thoughts before passing out were on Megumi and his wife. Toji is glad he never brought them into this mess.

There is one thing Toji forgot or didn't want to consider: Kynda sees it all. Kynda knows it all.

You come out of the Zenin's cave, humming. Behind you, Toji Zenin followed you, whatever was left of him: a puppet, ready to be used by you as you desire. His eyes have no life.

You stop by the entrance cave, watching the big city lights. You tap Toji on the shoulder, asking in a happy tone.

"So...should we go find your other family now?"

Toji Zenin had yet to learn this lesson. Maybe you should give his body momentary consciousness when you arrive at the doorsteps of his wife and son's house and hand Toji the same dagger he used to kill you earlier. Watch if he will beg for their life or finally prove he loves you, Kynda, above everything else.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro #toji zenin x you #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin #toji fushiguro fanfic #toji fushiguro fanfics #toji fushiguro horror #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #HONESTLY THIS IS MUCH BETTER THAN MEGUMI'S IMAGINARY FRIEND

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lesliesknopes · 1 year

Text

buddie alternate universe fic recs

i love making fic rec so here’s a list of some of my favourite ones (there’s a lot more but there was only so many i wanted to list).

sundae kind of love by withoutthetiger (18K)

"They’re here at the Santa Monica Pier, about an hour from home, celebrating Eddie’s graduation at the top of his class, with too much junk food and very little responsibility. It’s not quite a bribe or a payment long past due, just a deep breath before Eddie starts his new job and their lives continue to change."

An AU with lots of ice cream and a bit of a rollercoaster ride, as Buck and Eddie meet, become friends, and then have no idea how to handle any of their feelings after that.

Mr. Buckley's After Hours Detention by aresaphrodites (11K)

It’s not like Eddie Diaz planned on this. Really, there was no scenario in his mind where he would ever be bringing his son’s teacher a freaking goody basket to class; a homemade goody basket, no less. Then again, Christopher has never had a teacher quite like Evan Buckley.

of fallen leaves and falling in love by brewrosemilk (30K)

Buckley's Books is a small, charming bookstore on the outskirts of New York; when a coffee shop opens up across the street, it doesn't take long before Buck starts developing feelings for the man making his coffee.

you smiled and it was the most beautiful thing that I'd ever seen by wafflesofdoom (13K)

Eddie had always loved coffee. From the moment his parents had deemed him old enough to drink it, he’d loved coffee – he loved the smell, the taste, and most of all, he loved the process of making it. So, it was inevitable that'd he'd end up in Los Angeles, and take over Diaz's Café from his grandmother.

He just never imagined he'd meet the love of his life while doing it.

or, a 911-style ode to the classic coffee shop au trope.

sirens in the beat of your heart by trippedandfell (3K)

Buck is going to murder someone.

Okay, not actually murder, because Bobby’s got a very strict no killing on the job rule, but. Spiritually, Buck’s about to murder someone.

Swept Away (I'm Stolen) by Princessfbi (10K)

They had taken him from their home.

They had taken him— Eddie sucked in a shuddering breath at the sight of the scratches in the floor— literally kicking and screaming from their home.

Their beautiful, bright home that was now dark and empty and broken. Furniture was overturned, glass was everywhere, and the scratches on the wall were paired with scuff marks from boots.

Buck had fought them tooth and nail.

aka the James Bond AU with 007 Agent Eddie Diaz reporting for duty.

Searching Through The Pages by lullatone (21K)

At meet the teachers night, Eddie gets more than in bargained for with meeting Christopher's new school librarian.

My Salvation in You by fayevian (13K)

When Abuela calls him and says, “Eddito, I’m getting older and Pepa can’t run the tamale stand by herself. I could really use your help,” Eddie recognizes it for the lifeline it is and grabs on with both hands. It’s not hard to tell his parents he’s moving to LA. It’s hard to hear what they have to say about him, about Chris, but he packs up their stuff regardless and drives toward the Golden State with a prayer that this too won’t tarnish under his hands.

—

Eddie starts working in various farmer's markets across the county, including the Santa Monica Farmer's Market. Buck just so happens to be the market coordinator there. Something between them grows alongside the seasonal vegetables and organic wheatgrass.

on a wednesday in a cafe ( i watched it begin again ) by swiftiediaz (5K)

He writes a sweet message for the kid and signs his name at the end, even drawing a small smiley face in the corner.

"Now you have a signed book." Buck passes the book back to Eddie. Their gazes lock– intense, blue waters meeting the warm, welcoming earthy brown of Eddie's eyes and he hates to be cheesy, but Buck swears the world comes to a complete standstill.

or; Buck is an author who's been having a rough couple of months. And then he meets Eddie Diaz and his son at a café.

Take What You Need, Darling by allyasavedtheday (14K)

“Who are you?”

And Eddie intends to answer him, he really does, except-

“You must be Eddie,” the woman says, her earlier hostile tone being replaced with the utmost civility. “Maddie’s fiancé.”

Evan reels back like he’s been punched, snapping his gaze frantically between Eddie and Maddie. “Maddie’s what?”

“How rude of us,” the woman says, drifting away from Maddie’s bedside to come stand in front of him instead. “Eddie, I’m Margaret and this is my husband, Phillip. It really is so lovely to meet you.”

A Buddie While You Were Sleeping au.

(you're) simply the best by lilythesilly (3K)

“Evan,” Maddie sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “We’re in a tiny booth, in the quietest corner of the bar. Eddie wore a button down shirt, and there’s a present in the corner, right there.”

Buck’s eyes land on the gift bag sitting on top of Eddie’s jacket and everything comes to a sudden stop. “I —”

“Am on a date,” Maddie finishes for him.

Buck shakes his head, like that’ll shake loose all of the thoughts that have somehow frozen in his brain. “No, I. It can’t be a date. Eddie doesn’t —”

“Feel that way about you?” Maddie asks.

“Ok you really need to stop doing that.”

“Look, all I am saying,” Maddie says slowly, reaching over to grab the present and drop it down onto the table in front of him. “Is that if this gift is even remotely sentimental, you are on a date right now.”

Or, Buddie but make it Schitt's Creek.

tell me, will you stay or will you run away by prettyboybuckley (53K)

Buck is… Buck is sunshine and afternoons in the garden with Christopher.

He's knowing someone's got your back when you're surrounded by people who see you as a stuck-up royal and there might be some crazy ass terrorist trying to kill you.

Buck is quiet goodnights and tucking Christopher in, he's bickering in the backseat of the SUV.

He isn't anything that constitutes a future. OR: Somewhere along the way, Eddie falls in love with his bodyguard, and then it all goes to shit when a crazy ass terrorist does try to kill them

you come back with gravity by foxwatson (15K)

The first time that Eddie realizes with a startling clarity that he wants to kiss Buck, he’s 15 years old.

or - the one where they're childhood friends, until buck moves away, and the only thing eddie diaz has ever really wanted is buck

Write me into your happy ending... by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie (16K)

Four years ago when Eddie and Christopher started reading the book series about Daniel's Adventures together before bedtime, Eddie never would have guessed that he would run into the author of said book series in the middle of a Barnes & Noble in LA. He also wouldn't have guessed that said encounter would begin with him sternly lecturing the stranger and making a slight fool of himself. Nor would he have predicted that this terrible first impression would somehow make the published author want to give his phone number to Eddie.

Or, Eddie the firefighter and Buck the writer have a meet-cute, and things progress from there.

you were a stranger in my phonebook I was acting like I knew by anonymous (12K)

Buck doesn’t mean to find his hot TA on Grindr and definitely doesn’t mean to message him there. But, well, the midterm study guide is incomprehensible and it’s the only thing he answers. And he definitely didn’t mean to fall for him, but, well, these things happen.

would you lie with me and just forget the world by colonoscopys (45K)

Eddie Diaz is 7, and 13, and 14, and 18, and 34.

And he loves, and he loves, and he loves, and he loves, and he loves.

Under Any Roof by three (10K)

Eddie Diaz does not need a noisy neighbor on top of all the shit he's trying to work out. But he does make really good mac and cheese.

-- “You know,” And Buck is meeting his eyes now. They’re uncannily blue. Like Kool-Aid or popsicles. “If you want, I could show you what I get up to up there?”

What? WHAT? Eddie feels heat spread from the tips of his ears to his toes. No way had he just gotten propositioned before sunrise in the decrepit hallway of their apartment building. “Um. No.” He backs up until his calves brush the door to 101. “Thank you, really. But no.”

without you by orphan_account (43K)

Buck and Eddie married young, barley out of high school and in love. the couple that everyone assumed would last forever.

emphasis on 'assumed'

or, Evan has made a new life for himself in New York, attempting to leave his old one in Texas behind. However, after almost ten years away from home, his new fiancé wants to get married, leaving Evan no choice but to return to his home state and get his stubborn husband to finally sign the divorce papers.

a buddie sweet home alabama au

Strike a Match by extasiswings (13K)

When Eddie Diaz from the 136 agrees to join one of the LAFD strike teams to provide wildfire assistance, he’s thinking about two things—overtime and hazard pay. The last thing he expects is Evan Buckley.

Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans (That's My Man) by Signsofsam (3K)

“River!”

It’s in the moment that she twists her head lazily to look at him he remembers that the cute kid with crutches and curls comes with one very attractive adult male, who is now watching him with one raised, judgmental eyebrow. Because of course--of course!--his dog has to run to the wickedly hot guy Buck has a massive crush on, with the warm brown eyes and the biceps he’s sneaked a peak at through a sleeveless shirt and the laugh that curls into Buck’s soul.

Of course.

we're not in love (but the sex is good) by elless (15K)

Eddie is new to LA. Feeling lonely, he goes to a bar for a drink and meets a beautiful stranger that kisses like a dream. What starts as a one night stand quickly moves to frequent no strings sex. When circumstances lead to them spending time together out of bed, Eddie realizes he’s attached to Buck in a way he never planned for.

Take Me Back to the Start by myemergence (54K)

Country music star, Eddie Diaz, is on a break before his US tour when he gets unexpected news: he has a son. He needs to come home to his hometown in West River, TX right away. He hasn’t set foot there since he left for Nashville nine years ago, leaving his old life behind. West River is the last place that Eddie wants to be—he needs to focus on his career, and his tour—not looking after a kid that he doesn’t even know yet.

Crossing paths with his high school sweetheart, Evan Buckley, who’s now a Deputy with the sheriff’s office just might change all of that, reminding Eddie of the person that he used to be… and the kind of person that he wants to be.

Two For One, a neighborhood romance by kimannebb (14K)

“Yeah. Uh, hi. Um. I think I have your cat.”

Eddie’s really glad he’s idling at a stop sign because he freezes. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. Collar says Bear. Does she belong to you?” The voice is amused but also understanding.

“Yes, that’s her. Thank you! Can you give me your address?” Eddie asks hurriedly. Relief washes through him knowing that she’s safe and that he won’t have to tell Chris he lost her.

“I found her curled up with my dog. I took a photo; it was the cutest thing.”

or Buck and his dog move in above Eddie and his cat. The animals instantly click and want to spend all their time together, regardless of what their owners are ready for.

walking on sunshine by fallingthorns (5K)

Buck walks out of the room, out the backdoor, and into the yard, trying to ignore his large and judgmental dog following behind him.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Buck tells him as he gets the hose out to start watering his plants. “Keep it to yourself.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Buck startles and drops the hose, doing a quick 180-degree turn and coming face-to-face with Eddie. He’s clearly standing on something, elbows folded over the top of the fence and chin resting on them as he looks at Buck. His expression looks almost fond and it kind of makes Buck want to both preen and die of embarrassment. -- Or, the one where Buck owns a doggy daycare, has a large dog with an attitude, and is hopelessly in love with his new neighbor.

the matchmakers making a match (to burn down your kitchen) by orphan_account (3K)

"Isabel smirked, that sneaky smirk he recognized meant that she had a plan, and whatever it was, it was working.

Buck had no idea what he had just signed up for."

or When Buck moves in next door to Isabel Diaz, he has no idea what he's in for when she tries to set him up with her grandson.

take me to the lakes by archerincombat (16K)

They look at each other for a moment. It feels brief, but then again it doesn’t. Buck quirks his lip up, almost teasingly. “Ready, cowboy?”

Eddie thinks he could melt. The softness makes him vaguely nauseous, like he’s sinking. “I’m from Texas,” he reminds him, “Not a western.”

or, eddie's a novelist, and buck never wanted to stay

the handyman can ('cause he fixes it with love) by iphigenias (4K)

Eddie’s first thought when he opens the door is that Hen’s finally getting payback for Eddie hustling her in pool last Friday. The guy standing on the stoop is sweaty, smiling, with biceps that look like they could jaws-of-life a car all on their own and a very pink, very biteable kiss of a birthmark above his crinkled blue eyes. His toolbelt looks like every toolbelt from every bad porn movie ever, slung absurdly low on his hips, and the acid-wash jean shorts he’s wearing absolutely cannot be OSHA-approved.

Eddie decidedly does not look at the thick muscle of the guy’s thighs when he says, “uh, I think you have the wrong house.”

[my madney fic rec list]

#might make one for chenford or madney🤔#buddie fic #buddie #fic rec #buddie fic rec #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911fic #911 #911 fox #911 fic #911 fic rec #buddie au

81 notes · View notes

stilespeters · 1 year

Text

SALVATION (series)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

pairing: colin zabel x reader

words: 3863

a/n: Im so excited for the next couple of chapters because reader's whole world is gonna turn upside down (again) plus, Kai is a piece of shit in this universe (multiverse?) he will show his wrath when he finally gets to shine and do what he does best🤭

summary: the killer is revealed, but Colin found something in room 64 in the Cortez that might twist the whole case. What happened in room 64? What did Colin see?

warnings: swearing, murder, switch from present to past

part 6: room 64

Thursday, two days ago 01:19 am

Location: Marie and Bernard Allen’s residence

“What did you see, Adelaide?” Colin asked carefully and the little girl in front of him looked up at the sky for a few seconds before answering. “I heard the ice cream song. I looked outside and saw a big car with ice cream on it. A clown was driving it. I love clowns.” She explained before rubbing her eyes. “Were you the ice cream man?”

Colin flipped to the new page of his notebook.

“Can you maybe describe him for me?”

She looked up and placed her index finger on her chin. In the meantime, he grabbed a recording device and started recording. “He wore a black jacket, and his head was gray. He had multiple heads. One face was happy and another face was sad. I don’t remember what the other two faces were. Oh, and all the faces had really long noses!” She giggled and Colin wrote everything she said on his notes. “He also wore a funny black hat.”

“Anything else you noticed?”

“Nope.” she placed emphasis on the p. She then yawned “Grandma, to be honest I am kind of tired, can I get ice cream tomorrow? Please?”

“I know sweetheart. And yes of course, we’re gonna get ice cream tomorrow.” The woman looked at Colin before he nodded at her, giving her a signal that he was done here. “If your granddaughter in any way remembers something else, something she left out just now, can you call me? It could be the smallest detail, if you hear anything, please contact me.” He handed the woman a card and she nodded.

Colin then walked back to the house.

“Janssen,” Colin walked up to the perimeter. “I got a witness mentioning something about a clown, she described it for me, maybe we can make a sketch and see if people recognize it. Someone had to have bought it somewhere.”

“Alright, send the description over and we’ll look at it. I can see if we can get a composite sketch,” Janssen patted Colin on his back “Great work detective. There isn't anything you can do at the moment, so why don't you go home and rest.”

“Alright, I’ll go through the files tomorrow. I can see if there are any more witnesses and I can thoroughly see if there are any correlations with the previous case.” Colin remembered the two invitations to the Hotel Cortez that were in the living rooms of the previous victims. Maybe Marie and Bernard also had an invitation somewhere. Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a partern.

“I’ll call you when I have the results of the CLA, we’ll find a match of the DNA found and then we can look further into it. Send me the description of the clown’s mask and I’ll call someone to make a sketch.” Janssen walked back to the crime scene and Colin grabbed his notebook again.

Black jacket

gray head

multiple heads

different expressions -happy, sad etc

long noses

black hat

Colin sighed as he read it aloud. Where the hell could he find something like this?

Saturday, present time, 10:12 pm

location: the Hotel Cortez

After you showed Colin the list, you and he made eye contact for a brief moment. It didn't take long for you to know you were on the same page. You had to rush to Alma Irwin. You had to make sure she was alright, but you feared the worst.

Colin took your hand and together you ran through the halls of the Cortez once again. Your heart was beating erratically and there was sweat evident on your forehead. Your feet hurt like hell from the stilettos you were wearing, and after meters running, you stopped Colin. He shot you a look of question before you gestured to him to wait a minute.

After you crouched down to take off your heels, you adjusted the hair in your face, and you grabbed Colin’s hand again.

You decided to take the stairs, and when you reached the ground floor, you saw James March stopped talking to a man. He glanced at you and Colin who ran to the lobby, and you took one last look behind you before you ran outside. You could see in your last glance that James pressed his lips together in a thin line. He didn't look happy, sad or angry. He just looked. You were afraid for a second that he knew you had the guest list in your bag.

As the cold breeze hit your skin outside, you and Colin ran through the dark streets away from the Cortez, and a few people who were on an evening stroll raised an eyebrow at your dress and Colin's suit. However, you didn't care. You had to be as fast as possible. You were basically flying towards Colin's car.

“I know where Alma lives.” You said as you got into the passenger's seat, and Colin started the ignition. “She and her boyfriend own the Woodall Gasoline, a tankstation and auto repair shop. It’s near the edge of Brookfield Heights. I crashed my car into a traffic sign while trying to parallel park like a week ago. I went there just to get it fixed, my car is still there.”

“Alright, lead the way Miss Goode.” You typed the address of Alma and her boyfriend Kit's residence on the navigation and you tapped your foot onto the floor of the car. You were stressed as hell, since you knew Alma. Deep down you hoped that the list had it wrong, but after checking again for the 100th time, everything stayed the same. Alma was the only one who didn't show up and has an I as first letter of her last name. You tried to convince yourself that she may have canceled because she had the flu or something, but deep down a nasty feeling crept upon you.

Colin rested his hand on your knee to stop it from trembling, and you made short eye contact with him before he focused back on to the road. You got shivers as his hand rested on your thigh, and you started breathing steady again. After a short while, he retrieved his hand back to the steering wheel.

“The cops are on their way to the Cortez.” Colin spoke and his hands gripped the wheel tightly. His knuckles turned white. You frowned. “What? Why? What happened?”

“I went to room 64.”

“What did you see?”

Colin didn't answer, instead he clenched his jaws and seemed to be thinking long and hard. “Colin, what did you see in room 64?”

Colin didn't answer again, instead, he gulped and his adam’s apple wobbled. “I don’t know exactly, I’m still trying to process what I saw.” You could see he was visibly tense. His eyes darted nervously around, and you knew that you should leave it to him for now. He would tell you once he felt comfortable. It obviously bothered him. Seeing the reaction of Colin’s face by only asking what he saw, made you believe that it must have been something really serious. Whatever he saw in room 64 was enough to call the cops.

It felt weird knowing that the police would arrive at the Cortez soon. It was the opening week full of elites in the Hotel. Police infiltrating the place definitely did not look good.

What could he have seen in room 64?

After thirty minutes of driving, you neared the edge of Brookfield Heights. Alma’s home was in sight, and as Colin parked in front of Alma’s car in the driveway, you saw that there were no lights on in the home. It was nearing 11 pm, and it was already pitch black outside.

“Stay behind me.” Colin said as he approached the house. He’d rather have you stay back in the car, but he wanted to keep an eye out on you. Yes he knew that you could handle yourself easily, but he was carrying a weapon at the moment. He could protect you with it, and he’d be damned if he let you stay in the car if something serious really was happening.

Colin reached for his side, and when you saw the lantern illuminate it the slightest, you quickly realized it was a gun. You gulped at the sight. It wasn't like you’ve never seen a gun before, but seeing it again after so many years made you nervous as hell.

You didn't know if you were supposed to feel safer because of it, or more scared.

When you reached the front door, you saw that the door was ajar, and you stayed behind Colin as he pushed it open carefully. Your legs were kind of wobbly but you remained steady. “Alma?” he questioned. No answer.

“Ms Irwin?” still no answer. You two stood there for about five minutes before Colin walked into the house.

Everything was dark, and as you walked further, you saw a light coming from the kitchen and you heard soft music. Colin approached it slowly with his gun in his hands. Once you and Colin rounded the corner, you saw nothing out of the ordinary.

TRING

You almost got a heart attack as Colin’s phone buzzed. Someone was calling him. Colin quickly declined the call. Luckily nothing was happening, and everything looked normal.

That’s until you looked down and were met with the horrendous sight of a man crouching over something. The thing that stood out was that a puddle of crimson liquid surrounded the thing lying beneath the man, and your eyes widened.

Colin immediately held out his arm in a protective manner to shield you from the man, and he raised his gun. “Hands in the air, turn around slowly.”

The man slowly stood up with his back turned against you, and when he slowly turned around, his hands were covered with blood and his face was contorted in pure fear. You recognized him as the boyfriend of Alma, the one who was gonna fix your car. “It's not what it looks like. I saw her like this. I swear." He had a Boston accent and his words were slurred out.

When he didn't block the thing he was crouching down to, you saw what it actually was. It was a body. Not just some body, it was the body of Alma Irwin. You had spoken to her last week with her and you got a nasty taste in your mouth. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand and your eyes went wide.

“Hands where I can see them,” Colin stated clearly and the man on the ground began sobbing. “Please, it isn’t what it looks like.”

Colin still aimed the gun at him, and he grabbed his phone to call for backup. However, when he looked at his screen, he saw he got a text message from Janssen.

Got a call from the CLA, forensics examiner Anya Lewis. Call me ASAP, it’s urgent. We found a DNA match from the Bernard’s house

Colin immediately called Janssen back and still watched the man closely.

“Colin, we found traces of fingerprints at Marie and Bernard’s place, it matches the fingerprints of Kit Walker, the boyfriend of Alma Irwin. The cops are on their way, where are you?”

“I’m already here.”

Colin eyed you for a second before he looked at Kit Walker who looked like a scared puppy. He then lowered his phone.

“I didn't do it.” Kit let out in a silent sob.

Your eyes were still on the corpse of Alma.

You didn't know her that well, but you had small talk with her last week. It felt weird knowing that she was gone, murdered by the person standing in front of you.

It felt like you were standing there for eternity.

All you remembered was the room lighting up in blue and red lights through the windows, and the vague sounds of police cars. It felt like you were underwater. Like you couldn't breathe. The next thing you knew was three officers walking into the room and taking Kit with them. Kit looked back at his wife on the ground, and it looked like his heart shattered to pieces. He then glanced back at you and Colib, before he disappeared behind the corner.

"Are you alright?" Colin asked, his voice laced with concern. He held your arms steady so you wouldn't fall.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm fine." you looked him in the eyes and you gulped.

He held you closer in his arms and he then noticed you were trembling. He took off his black coat and hung it over your bare shoulders. It was too big, but it was comfortable and warm. You sank into the warm feeling of the jackwt. Colin was now only left with his white blouse, and it hugged his upper body perfectly. However, your eyes were still set on Alma, and you couldn't help but feel guilty. The goal was to prevent this from happening, but you were too late. Too late to save Alma.

"Y/n," You turned to look at Colin and he saw your eyes were glossy. "Let me take you home, it's been a long night."

You nodded, and he supported you by placing an arm around your waist and walking you outside. You still wore your dress and heels, and you saw multiple police officers look up at the two of you. It was kind of odd that two people dressed in attire were leaving the murder scene.

You opened your front door and stepped inside. As soon as the cold air left your skin, you could finally let out a sigh of relief. What a night this had been. You had attended an elite opening of the Hotel previously owned by your parents, you had stolen the guest list from the woman you helped become who she really is, you had been the first to step foot on the crime scene together with Colin, and you saw the person that was going to fix your car crouched over his girlfriend’s dead corpse.

Saying you were tired was an understatement.

You dropped your bag on the kitchen counter, and you looked outside the window to see Colin drive away. After he brought you home, he was called back to the crime scene, and he promised to call you tomorrow morning. He said that for now you needed to rest.

The weirdest feeling was knowing that you two had catched the killer. Something just felt weird about everything. It felt too easy. This person was too smart to just leave DNA at the previous crime scene, since there was no DNA found at the other crime scenes, and it felt really convenient that you two had gotten to the crime scene at the perfect time.

However, you didn't question it any further. It had to have been Kit. You didn't know the motive, but you knew that one person could be driven to madness fairly easily.

You walked upstairs with your heels in your hands, and your body ached for a warm bath. When you reached the first floor, you saw both Zoe’s door and Violet’s door were closed. You decided to enter Zoe’s door first, and when you opened the door a little, you saw that all the lights were out and that she lay in her bed. You heard her soft snores, and you closed the door again. You then moved to the other side of the hall.

When you walked to Violet’s door and opened it, you saw that her lights were on. She was seated next to her window with her cigarette in hand. For some reason however, you weren't mad. Usually, you'd scold her for lying to you, but at the moment you were too tired to start an argument.

Violet looked startled when she heard the door open and saw you standing in the doorway, and she tried to hide the cigarette. “It’s not what it looks like.”

It’s not what it looks like

The words that rolled out of her mouth were the same words of Kit, and it replayed in your head as you visioned him towering over Alma’s body. The way crimson as red as the color of your dress painted his face. It was a horrendous sight. When you closed your eyes, that was your only vision.

You stood there for a split second before walking into the room. Violet was scared of you, but as you stood in front of her, you held out your hand.

“Hand me the cigarette.”

She slowly reached her hand up to give you her cigarette, and she expected you to throw it out of the window again. However, once you had the cigarette in your fingers, you placed it between your lips. You inhaled and closed your eyes.

Violet was absolutely baffled to see you smoking in front of her. She had so many questions.

Even though so many questions had been answered tonight, it didn't feel satisfying at all. You knew that the killer finally got caught, the police were at the crime scene AND at the Hotel Cortez, but you couldn't help but feel like something wasn’t right.

You just couldn't help but wonder what Colin saw when he was searching for physical evidence while you were in room 53 with Liz. It must have been something big and serious, since he called the police.

So what the hell happened in room 64?

Saturday 09:46 pm

location: the Hotel Cortez

“You’re a good person, Detective.” you gave him a smile and he looked at the ground. Hearing those words come out of your mouth was different than when other people say it. Everything that came out of your mouth just seemed majestic.

“Now let’s get this list and figure out who the next target is, before we’re too late. I’ll go to room 53”

“Alright, in the meantime I’ll look around to see if there is anything suspicious in the hotel. There has to be some sort of physical evidence.”

“Okay, I’ll call you when I get the list.”

Even though he only knew you for a few days. He felt drawn to you, you had this aura that attracted him. He was intoxicated by your presence and he somehow felt like he knew you for years.

That's the reason why he wanted you to be safe. He trusted you, yes. It were others that he didn't trust.

Before you could walk away, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back. His touch was like velvet silk and you looked at your intertwined hands.

“Please, Y/n. I know you can handle yourself but I… I…” he didn't finish his sentence. “Just be careful, not everyone is as nice as they seem.”

“I know, I’ll be careful.” you gave him a smile, a smile he adores. “You too, stay safe.”

Colin nodded “I will. See you soon.”

As he saw you leave for the elevator, Colin thought about where he could look first. He scanned the room with his eyes and he saw James March already returned from whatever Iris asked him. He didn't like James one bit. Colin was usually the person to give people the benefit of the doubt, but after James slipped out information that hadn't been released to the public yet, he felt weird about him. Especially when James flirted with you in front of him. Okay, you and him didn't date, but James didn't know that. And still he had the nerve to kiss your hand in front of Colin. The problem was that Colin didn't know if it was just James' charm or because he was taunting him.

James looked angry about something as he was talking to a woman with platinum blonde hair. He seemed to be in some kind of argument with her, and as Colin narrowed his eyes, James suddenly looked his way. Colin immediately turned to look at something else and cursed under his breath.

His head snapped the wrong way, however, since he was now looking at a lone woman who stood next to the bar. She eyed him, and when she saw he made eye contact, she made her way over to him. Colin cursed again as he quickly glanced away again.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and a presence next to him.

“Hello, Mr. My-date-ditched-me.” She tried to joke but Colin didn't know if she was serious or not. “In need of a companion?”

Colin didn't give her attention and instead looked at the vacant spot where James just stood. It was almost as if he could teleport.

“No, sorry.” he mumbled and she clicked her tongue. “That’s a shame, a handsome man like you shouldn't be alone on a gorgeous evening like this in a beautiful place.” Colin didn't know what to say to that. “I don't have any money.” Colin referred to the other men who were loaded.

She laughed at that like it was the funniest joke in the world and she ran her fingers on his chest. Colin felt uncomfortable. Sure, she was pretty, but she wasn't you. And the way she acted made him feel kind of weirded out.

“Excuse me.” he said as he tried to pry her off of him and he heard her scoff. However, that was the least of his worries, since he now had to search for James March.

After Colin lost sight of James he just decided to look for anything suspicious. Anything that was out of the ordinary. Colin was walking through the endless halls of the Cortez as he tried to find something. He didn't know anything of how the Cortez was structured, and so he cursed under his breath that you and him split up. If you were there with him, you could've shown the way. It felt like he was lost in the halls, as if the walls were eating him up.

A nasty feeling crept up on him when he thought about you in room 53. Should he have left you there alone? Again, he knew you could handle yourself, but he just wanted you safe.

That’s when he suddenly heard the deep voice of James, and Colin stopped in his tracks and stepped back to stand behind the corner to be out of sight. When Colin peeked, he saw James enter a room. It was room number 64.

Colin stayed put behind the corner of the hall. He heard nothing, and when he stood there for several minutes, he sighed. He was aout to walk back, but he stopped again in his track as he heard the door open. He peeked again and saw James marching outside of the room with his phone against his ear. He seemed angry and annoyed again, and he walked through the halls as his voice raised.

When his back was facing Colin, Colin tiptoed to room 64 and just when the door was about to close, he slipped inside.

Compared to the hallways, it was really cold inside of room 64. It was clear that it was the room of James March, since there was a photograph on the small table against the wall, that showed James standing next to the Cortez while it was still being built. Colin saw more photographs of James on the wall. There were only pictures of him in suit. When Colin looked around once more, the right side of the room looked a bit like an office. There was a laptop and papers on the desk and a bookshelf on his left.

Colin didn't see anything out of the ordinary, and he was afraid that James could be back any minute. He unfortunately didn't have any success, so he hoped that you had more luck.

He leaned against the desk and tapped his foot, and when he stood up, he knocked the cup that stood tall on the desk behind him. He cursed as his reflex tried to correct it, but he was too late. The cup fell down with the head towards the laptop. How was Colin gonna explain that coffee spilled on James' laptop?

However, when he widened his eyes, his scared expression turned intl a frown. No liquid came out of the cup. Instead, the bookshelf on the left side opened.

“What the-” he muttered and he slowly moved to face the bookshelf. All he saw was black, until his head looked down. He saw a set of stairs and a light. With adrenaline running through his veins and his heart beating erratic, he slowly walked down the stairs.

How was this even possible? Why would there be some sort of basement in a hotel room?

Colin was faced with another big book shelf as he stood in the room, and as he made his way around it, he saw a brown couch in the center. There were some cabinets against the wall. On the right was a table with two chairs, and a well lit lamp, and in front of the couch was a tv. It looked kind of like a mancave.

Except, there was one thing that Colin immediately noticed when he walked down the stairs into this weird room. It was an object that caught his eye that lay on the small table in front of the tv.

He walked towards it and crouched down till his face was at level with the object. In the bright light of the lamp above him, he could clearly see what it was. However, his mind couldn't seem to comprehend it. It couldn't be real...

It was a mask, but not just some mask. It was A gray clown mask with four different face expressions and a long nose with a black hat.

Thursday, Colin had given the descriptions of the mask to Janssen, and he said to get an Composition sketch of the clown's mask, but he hadn't gotten word from Janssen. But staring at the clown's hat right now, made him 100% sure that this was the one the little girl was talking about. Colin stood there for a short while to take it all in, and he gripped the mask tightly. It was as if he was afraid that it would slip out of his fingers. It was as if he was afraid his mind was playing tricks on him. But no, this was solid matter in his hands.

He fisted his phone out of his pocket, and he then dialed the authorities. This was enough evidence to link James and the Cortez to the murders.

“My name is Detective Colin Zabel, I need immediate backup. I’m at the Hotel Cortez.”

Colin gulped and he started to feel really warm all of the sudden as he kept staring at the faces of the mask. The expression that looked at him was the sad face. His mouth was shaped in an U shape but downwards, and it looked menacing in this light. Was this the mask of James March? Was James the person in the ice cream truck?Colin scanned the mask, each of it's faces until his hands reached into the hat. He pulled out a strand of hair.

A strand of long, blue hair.

Colin carefully picked it up and looked around for some sort of bag. This was evidence that should be restored. He rushed to the cabinets that stood against the wall, and as he opened them one by one, he saw a box with ziplock bags.

Luck was on his side today.

He carefully laid the blue hair in the small bag, and placed the rest of the box back. He then placed the small bag in his pocket and scanned the room one more time. His eyes settled once again on the gray mask, and Colin felt weirded out. It looked so... disturbing. Could it he true that the person who wore this, killed Marie and Bernard, plus all the others? Why would someone get off on that?

Colin felt like the walls were shrinking. He didn't want to be here in this room any longer. He rushed upstairs and walked to the door of the hotel room. He'd wait for the authorities to arrive. That's when his phone buzzed. He shrieked at the sound. It wasn't that loud, but due to the previous silence, it was as if it was a bullet next to his ear. He looked at the screen and your caller ID was visible. He immediately pressed his phone against his ear and walked outside of room 64. He then heard you suddenly yell his name through the phone.

"Colin!"

Colin immediately stopped in his tracks. “Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He started walkinf through the halls with his phone to his ear.

“No, everything is fine, I just- I know who the next target is.”

“You saw the list?”

“Yeah, I’m on the second floor,”

“So am I.” Just as he said that, your figure appeared from behind the bordeaux walls, and you both stood in front of each other, about 5 meters away as you both lowered your phones.

Colin saw that you had the list in your hands and you then both ran towards each other to meet each other in the middle. He stopped in front of you and saw you were catching your breath. Your hands were placed on your knees and you breathed heavily “I know who the next victim will be.”

Colin's eyes widened “Who?”

“Alma,” you said “Alma Irwin.”

Colin’s heart beated erratically and he had his hand over the small bag in his pocket. In that bag was the blue strand of hair he found in the mask. He didn't know what he was gonna do, all he knew was that Alma was in danger. And so he grabbed your hand and together you ran away. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Saturday, present time, 11:32 pm

location: Colin's car

After he had dropped you off at your house, Colin watched as you closed the door nehind you. He wanted to make sure you were safe inside before he'd drive off.

As he saw you stand in the kitchen, he grabbed the bag with the blue hair from his pocket. He couldn't help but wonder to whom it belonged to.

Whose hair was in the mask? Why was it blue? James and Kit certainly didn't have blue, long hair, so who could it possibly be? Colin didn't know what it meant. All he knew was that it couldn't be good.

Something just didn't make any sense about Kit being the killer. But then why was his DNA found at the previous crime scene? Was he being framed? It was plausible, but why would someone do that?

There were just so many questions with so little answers. Colin knew that they had enough evidence to claim Kit as their killer, but something deep down said that that wasn't right.

Colin tried to push those thoughts away but they kept resurfing. It was plaguing his mind and he rested his head against his steering wheel.

He knew that there was only one way to find out to whom the blue hair belonged to. He grabbed his phone, dialed a number that he hadn't called in ages, and he waited for a response. It was a woman he met the first day of his training as officer. A woman who worked as a Crime Laboratory Analyst. When he finally got her on the line, he cleared his throat.

"Hey, uhh it's Colin. I know it's been a while, but I need to ask you a favor."

"Holy shit, Colin fucking Zabel, It's been a long long time since I heard your voice," Colin heard her chuckle. "What kind of favor?"

"I need you to run something in the database." Colin stared at the blue hair in his hands, and the woman on the other side of the line clicked her tongue. "You know what, why not. It'll be just like the old days."

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #evan peters x you #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson x you #evan peters x y/n #kit walker #colin zabel #colin zabel x you #colin zabel smut #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel x female reader #kai anderson x female reader #evan

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m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months

Text

Pomegranate Ink: XXX

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: As everyone returns from the Culling Games, preparations are made in order to unseal Gojo.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.3k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: daddy’s home 😩🙏🏻‼️ also i’m sorry for the hakari slander i actually like him as a character but y/n fucking hates him so alas her internal monologue is not flattering towards the poor guy.

Ever since she had told you the story of her past with Toji Zenin — who apparently had gone by Toji Fushiguro by the time of his death, hence how she had recognized that he was Megumi’s father — you and your mother had been closer than before. You were still nothing like what a typical mother and daughter should’ve been like, but you laughed at her jokes and helped her cook when you had a spare moment, and she listened to your problems and offered comforting words when you grew too upset about them.

It was nice, having a mother. You had never understood the extent of what the L/Ns had stolen from you until you got it back, and now you wished more than anything that you were a different girl, that your mother married a different man, that the two of you could’ve had something close to happiness in your youths. But it had not happened in that way, and so your only consolation was the one year you had had at the school, the year where everyone had been there, when you, Panda, Toge, Tullia, Maki, and Yuta all studied together and went on dumb missions together and made fun of Gojo together and did everything, really, but all together.

Things would never be like that again. Tullia was dead. Toge had lost his arm. You could only use Composition. Maki had slaughtered her entire clan in exchange for the murder of her twin sister. Yuta was a special grade sorcerer of his own merits instead of just Rika’s strength. Panda’s brother, sister, and father were gone. None of you were who you used to be. None of you would ever smile and laugh like that again. Even if you one day got over everything somehow — time would heal all wounds or something like that, according to proverbial wisdom, even though you’d place your bets on Composition over time any day — you would never be able to return to the innocence of your schooldays.

The first to return from the Culling Games were Noritoshi and Elakshi. Noritoshi had cut his hair after getting exiled from his clan, but Elakshi looked much the same, albeit with a few more scars on her face, most notably a lash mark running down the side of her cheek.

“It’s fine,” she said when you rushed to her side to try and help her. “You can leave it. I’ll wear this kind of scar with pride; it’s a scar of victory, not defeat, so I’m alright with not erasing it.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” you said. She shook her head.

“Not anymore. Luckily, Noritoshi has some first aid skills, so we were able to patch it up with some good old bandages,” she said, tapping the scar for emphasis. “Really, it’s not a problem. I always forget it’s there.”

“That’s good. What about you, Noritoshi?” you said.

“I’m alright as well,” he said. “Thank you, though.”

Around the start of the Culling Games, when the higher ups were sending out their execution orders and whatnot, the Kamo clan had found a new leader and promptly exiled the bastard-born Noritoshi. That was why they hadn’t spoken in your favor when your execution was on the table — you were tied to a man they didn’t even care about anymore, so what use were you to them? Staying in the higher ups’ good graces far outweighed that, and anyways everyone knew at that point that the L/Ns had disowned you. Or, at least, they had until you came back and took over the clan, but that had happened later, so it wasn’t a concern of theirs when your death was on the table.

“It’s strange,” Noritoshi said upon finding out that you were the new head of the L/N clan. “We’ve reversed roles entirely. You’re the clan head, and I’m an outlaw. You’re the one with all of the prestige, and I’m nobody.”

“That’s true,” you said. “But I wouldn’t say you’re nobody. You’re still Noritoshi Kamo, for better or for worse, and even if you aren’t the heir to your clan anymore, that’s still worth something.”

“Maybe so,” he said.

“Not maybe. It is so, and as the head of the L/N clan, I can say that with certainty. Oh! And by the way, also as the head of the L/N clan, I’d like to decree that we are no longer engaged. Please feel free to marry who you’d like, and do not begrudge me for doing the same,” you said, motioning towards Elakshi, who was now busily telling Ijichi a story. Judging by how frequently she kept pointing to her cheek, it was the tale of how she had gotten her scar, and it must’ve been gruesome, considering Ijichi was quite literally quaking as she spoke.

Noritoshi smiled fondly at her. In all of the years you two had been engaged, this was an expression he had never worn around you. It was because you and he were only friends, but he cared for Elakshi in a different way, a way that made your heart settle, the knowledge that he was happy bringing you your own happiness as well.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said.

“Be kind to her, and I’m sure she’ll be kind to you,” you said.

“I intend to do just that,” he said. “Though Elakshi’s not the type to put up with anything but the best treatment. Not anymore.”

“Good on you for raising her standards!” you said, clapping him on his muscular shoulder.

“I don’t think it was me,” he said. “It was someone else. She saw a boy love a girl so deeply and wholly that she vowed then and there to never settle for any less, or so she’s said.”

“Huh? What, on TV or something?” you said.

“You, dumbass,” he said. “Seeing how Yuta acts with you is what changed her mind. I’m inclined to agree with her, too. The way he loves you, the way you love him…that’s definitely the kind of thing that would raise one’s standards.”

You didn’t even try to deny it. You didn’t have to anymore. Now that you were the head of the L/Ns and Noritoshi had been exiled and your engagement was nothing but a memory, you didn’t have to hide anything anymore.

“If anyone can meet those standards, it’s you,” you said. “You’re a good man, Noritoshi.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. “We’re still friends?”

“Of course,” you said firmly. “That’s never changed.”

The next ones back were Panda, Hakari, Kirara, and a tall man with electric eyes and pale hair. Panda was tiny now, the size of a dog instead of his typical lumbering form, and you immediately swept him into your arms the moment you saw him.

“My poor Panda,” you said, stroking the soft fur of his forehead, scratching the scruff of his neck the way you’d do with a pet. “Hakari, how could you let this happen?”

“Don’t blame Kin,” Kirara said, standing in front of Hakari and looking comically small compared to his bulk. “It’s Panda’s own fault for picking a fight with someone so much stronger than him!”

“Actually, I didn’t really pick the fight,” Panda said, eyes closing as you rubbed behind his ears. “He did.”

The man standing awkwardly beside Hakari nodded proudly at this, which was definitely a little strange, given what Panda was saying.

“I did do that,” he said. “He was too weak for it to really be considered a proper fight, though.”

You squinted at him. “Have we met before or something? You seem familiar, for some reason.”

“Dunno,” he said. “Maybe. It’s not like I pay attention to everyone I meet and keep a catalog of them in my mind or anything.”

“Probably not, Y/N,” Hakari interrupted. “Kashimo’s one of the reincarnated sorcerers, so he’s been dead for about four hundred years. There’s no way you two would have run into one another.”

“It’s most likely Gojo,” Panda said. “Don’t you see the similarity? They both have light hair and bright eyes. I thought they might be related or something when I first saw him, too, but apparently it’s just a coincidence.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right,” you said. Now that Panda mentioned it, there was a startling resemblance between Kashimo and Gojo. “Sorry for the confusion.”

“I don’t really care,” Kashimo said. “I don’t even know who Gojo is, but that’s as good of an explanation as any.”

“Anyways!” Hakari said, leaning over and plucking Panda from your arms, handing him to Kirara and then resting his hands on your shoulders. You scowled at him, which he ignored completely. “Have you thought about what I asked you?”

“Usually, when you start speaking, I stop paying attention,” you said. “That is to say, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You really mean that?” he said.

“Uh, yeah,” you said. “You’re kind of weird, Hakari.”

“I’m talking about your fever! What do you burn for? Don’t you remember when we talked about that? That’s what I want to know!” he said.

“Ah, maybe you shouldn’t phrase it like that, Kin,” Kirara said with a wince.

“What do you mean?” Hakari said. Kirara pointed at the literal burn scars on your neck and hands, along with the unamused expression on your face.

“I think she, um, actually burnt for something…” they said. Hakari turned bright red before clearing his throat and turning away. It was a rare thing to see Hakari embarrassed, so it cheered you immensely — to the point that you were not even annoyed anymore.

“Right, against the special-grade volcano curse, Jogo,” you said. “That’s when I got these. In Shibuya — an incident which I remember the two of you being conspicuously absent from.”

“We didn’t know!” Kirara said.

“The higher ups didn’t bother to inform us, or else we would’ve been there. We may not like doing work or anything, but we wouldn’t have left you and Gojo and all to your fates for no reason,” Hakari added.

“I’m not blaming you,” you said. “It was just an observation. That’s all.”

The next was Yuta himself, and you abandoned the others as soon as his foot crossed the door. Although you no longer had your cursed signature detection, you could still sense that it was him, knew it somewhere deeper than even your soul. The presence which once had felt so malevolent was now your greatest companion, and he had barely stepped inside before you were launching yourself at him. He dropped his sword and caught you just in time, spinning you around and then setting you gently on the ground beside him.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you said. “The whole time you were gone, I was so worried…”

“I know,” he said. “Would you believe it if I said I worried about you, too?”

“No. I wasn’t even doing anything dangerous, so what cause was there to worry?” you said.

“When you aren’t with me, I worry. I can’t help it; even if I know you’re safe, I worry about you. It’s because I think of you so much — worry is just a natural consequence of it,” he said.

“You’re the one that was in a dangerous death match,” you said. “I wish I could give some romantic explanation for why I was afraid, but it really was just a fear that something would happen to you and I wouldn’t be there in time to stop it. Speaking of which, are you okay? Do you need to be healed at all?”

“I have a Reverse Cursed Technique too, you know,” he reminded you. “It’s nothing as impressive as Composition when it comes to being used on other people, of course, but it’s perfectly functional on myself.”

“Like you said, it’s nothing like Composition, which means I won’t feel at ease until you allow me to use that on you,” you said.

“Nothing will come of it but exhaustion on your part,” he said.

“It’s okay. Now that I don’t use Dissection anymore, I can use Composition without being drained immediately. There’s no problem,” you said, cradling his face in your hands, massaging his jaw with nimble fingers. “Composition.”

True to his word, Yuta was not at all injured, and the Reverse Cursed Technique washed over him with little effect. He stayed perfectly still, though, eyes closed as he allowed you to check every millimeter of his body with Composition. Only when you could be absolutely sure that there was nothing wrong with him did you release the Reverse Cursed Technique and press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“All good?” he said knowingly.

“All good,” you agreed. “My dear, brave Yuta. Thank you for coming back to me alright.”

“I missed you the whole time I was gone,” he said. “I knew you would be in more danger if you were by my side, but I couldn’t help wishing you were with me anyways. My only consolation was that I’d get to see you again when I returned, so I kept fighting to that end. Even if I wasn’t alright, even if I was hurt, even if I had to crawl…I’d have come back to you. No matter my condition, I will come back.”

You leaned in to kiss him, but right as your lips were about to brush, there was an ear-splitting shriek. The two of you jumped apart, turning to find Hakari standing there, pale-faced, Kirara beside him with their hands on their cheeks.

“It’s like that between you two?” Kirara said.

“Oh my god,” Hakari said. “Y/N! You’re dating the creepy guy? Why would you do that?”

“Hakari,” you said through gritted teeth. “You should consider yourself very lucky I gave up fighting.”

“I’m not that creepy, am I?” Yuta said, patting his arms with a small frown. You shook your head in the negative even as Hakari and Kirara nodded.

“Not at all,” you said.

“Yes,” Kirara said.

“Absolutely, man,” Hakari said.

“Hakari!”

Maki and Itadori were the next to come, the door slamming open as they sprinted in, carrying a wounded girl in between them. Her arm had been cut off somehow, and blood dripped profusely from the wound, leaving a trail behind her as Itadori breathlessly set her down on a hospital bed.

“Who is this?” you said.

“Hana Kurusu. She’s the vessel for the Angel — the one who can unseal Gojo,” he said. “You have to heal her!”

“What happened?” you said, though immediately afterwards, you activated your Reverse Cursed Technique with a murmur of “Composition.”

The dark energy circulating around Kurusu’s injury made your stomach turn. You knew immediately that this kind of wound could only be made by one being, and that frightened you more. The cursed energy was spreading from the wound and overtaking her entire essence, and sweat poured from your brow as you methodically destroyed it, the procedure taking even more effort because of the lingering potential that the energy had.

“Sukuna,” Itadori said, though it wasn’t like he really needed to explain anymore, not now that you had come in contact with it.

“Is it hard to keep control of him now that you’ve eaten so many fingers?” you said. “Also, where’s Megumi? He’s the only one that hasn’t come back yet.”

“It’s not like that,” Maki said as you finished removing the last of Sukuna’s residual energy. “It wasn’t in Itadori’s body that he did all this. He’s found a new vessel now.”

“A new vessel? How?” you said, preparing yourself to regenerate the arm, which would be immensely difficult given the being who had cut it off.

“He made a Binding Vow with me. That’s how I was able to live after the detention center incident. In exchange for regrowing my heart, he could use a chant that would give him control of my body for one minute — although, he wasn’t allowed to harm anybody else during that time,” Itadori said.

“Okay,” you said, the tendons and bones of Kurusu’s arm beginning to take shape.

“That didn’t include him,” Maki said. “Sukuna ripped his own finger off and force fed it to—”

“The new vessel,” you completed. “I see how it happened. Well, who is it?”

“Fushiguro,” Itadori said miserably. “He took Fushiguro.”

Instinctively, you canceled Composition, the arm falling away into nothingness, leaving Kurusu with nothing but a healed stump off of her shoulder.

“Megumi?” you said. “What do you mean by that?”

“Y/N, her arm,” Maki reminded you. You ignored her, Kurusu’s well-being fading into an afterthought in your mind. All you could do was try to fathom what they had just revealed to you. Megumi was Sukuna’s vessel now. It wasn’t enough that he had taken Tullia from you. He was taking Megumi, your Megumi, your constantly snitching, stupidly sacrificial, serious little underclassman, the one who always asked for your advice and complained about Gojo with you. Sukuna was taking that boy, too.

“Why?” you choked out. “Why does he keep doing this?”

“I’m sorry,” Itadori said. “It’s my fault.”

“He’s stealing everyone,” you said hollowly. “He can’t kill me, so he’ll destroy every single person I love. He’ll make it so that I don’t want to live at all, and only then will he be able to find some pleasure in denying me death.”

“That’s not entirely the case,” Maki protested. “He must be interested in Megumi for other reasons, too.”

“Of course he is,” you said, returning to Kurusu’s arm, even though you knew by now it was too late, that her fragile body could not handle it if you forced it to regenerate an entire limb once more. “But this only makes it better. He gets what he wants out of Megumi and tortures me in the same breath. Who will it be next?”

You glanced at Maki and immediately wished you hadn’t. You didn’t want to think about it like that, didn’t even want to put those thoughts into the world. If Sukuna took her from you, too, if you had to watch her die, if, after everything, you lost Maki as well, then you wouldn’t be able to go on.

Kurusu soon woke up, and you apologized as much as you could about the fact that she still did not have her arm. She did not complain, explaining to you how she had lost it in the first place, how she had fallen for Sukuna’s trick, and then hanging her head.

“If only I wasn’t so stupid, you’d still have your friend,” she said. Itadori and Maki were silent, but you smiled as best you could at her. Her green eyes and bright hair reminded you of someone else, and you could never hate that person, so you could never hate her, either — not that you would’ve in the first place.

“I don’t blame you,” you said. Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes swam with tears as she hesitantly peeked up at you. You patted her on the head. “If it were me, I might’ve made the same mistake. How were you supposed to know? How can we blame you for something Sukunadid? If not that, then he would’ve pulled something else. He took advantage of you and your affection for Megumi, and that’s how things ended up in this way, but you’re not at fault. Sukuna is.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she said, and then she really was crying. You offered her a handkerchief, and she blew her nose in it with a great honk. “You don’t even know me! I lost you your friend, so why are you being nice to me?”

“You know, it’s a little reassuring that even angels can make mistakes, just like humans can,” you said. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him back, and then you can talk to him, and everything will be fine. We won’t let Sukuna win this time. But can you promise me one thing in exchange for my forgiveness?”

“What?” she said.

“For the moment, please forget about him. From now on, we must — we must act as if Megumi Fushiguro is someone who is dead.”

As everyone made the preparations to unseal Gojo, there was a palpable feeling of loss in the air. With every moment that passed, you found yourself wanting to make some joke with Tullia or exchange incredulous looks with Megumi whenever someone did something stupid. You wanted to introduce Nobara to your mother and discuss things with Nanami and learn more from Yuki Tsukumo, who you had learnt had fallen in a fight against Kenjaku. But none of those people were here anymore. You would never get to do any of those things again.

You weren’t the only one who was impacted. Itadori was the worst off; he had lost his two best friends, after all, the two people who were supposed to always be by his side. They were gone now, leaving him alone, and even though Choso and, surprisingly, Elakshi did their best, it was never quite enough for the boy to regain the old sparkle in his eyes.

Toge and Panda, once the comedic duo that could always be counted on to make everyone laugh, were quiet more often than not. What cause did Toge have to make jokes when he had lost the girl he loved? What cause did Panda have to mess around when his creator was dead and he had lost his sibling cores? There was nothing of the sort, so they both tended to sit by one another in silence, their old friendship one of the only things they had left at this point. Sometimes Yuta would sit with them, too, but everything was different for him, less raw and immediate, so more often than not he stayed with you and left them to their mourning.

You tried to spend as much time as you could with Kurusu. Yuta followed you everywhere, as did Maki, so although neither of them put the same effort into befriending her that you did, they ended up becoming a little fond of her as well. But you did what you could to be kind to her — you understood what it was like to be lonely, to feel ostracized, and so you endeavored to be to her what Gojo and Maki had been to you. To this end, you only had Elakshi’s aid; she had become something of a philanthropist in recent times, reaching out to whoever she could in the attempt to provide some slim kindness despite never having shown much interest in the pursuit before.

One time, while Yuta was taking a well deserved nap and Maki was cleaning her sword, you somehow found yourself roped into a conversation with Hakari, Kirara, and Hajime Kashimo — who didn’t really seem to like the previous two, either, but knew no one else and thus had to stick around with them or be on the whole glared at for what he had done to Panda.

“Y/N,” Hakari began while you were making some soup for Maki, who would never ask for it but had been hinting for a while that she wanted some. You weren’t sure when the trio had entered the kitchen, but at some point they must’ve, as all of them were standing there and staring at you.

“Hakari,” you said, stirring the contents of the pot. “What is it? Are you all hungry or something? Because you can cook for yourself, you know.”

“That’s not it,” Kirara said. “Actually, it’s like this: we realized that since Kashimo is from the Edo period—”

“Oh, right!” you said, interrupting them and turning to Kashimo. “You’re essentially a living piece of history! What was it like back then? Did you know any of my relatives? What was your favorite food, and does it still exist today? How different is modern society from the one you lived in? I mean, of course we’re much more technologically advanced, but the inherent structures of classism and sexism, are those still the same? I would hope not, but you never know. No society is ever as progressive as it claims to be.”

“I don’t know what a lot of those words mean,” Kashimo said. “What is ‘sexism?’”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t really get most of that either,” Hakari admitted. He regularly ranked at the bottom in terms of grades across both schools, though, whereas you were tied with Todo for the top position, so this was not a surprise.

“You really don’t know what sexism is, Hakari? That’s a little disappointing,” you said.

“Of course I do!” he said. “It’s when you think women are stupid and useless. The rest of it, however, was a little beyond me.”

“Um, sure, that’s close enough,” you said, having learnt long ago that explaining things requiring “nuance” to Hakari was a waste of time.

“I don’t think just women are stupid or useless,” Kashimo offered. “I think everyone who’s weak can be considered as such. The gender is unimportant.”

“He’s not sexist!” Hakari said. He and Kirara broke out in a round of applause. You massaged your temples before turning the stove down so the soup could simmer for a bit, once again finding no point in further explanation.

“Okay,” you said. “What about my other questions? And by the way, I wasn’t asking him if he was sexist. I was talking about the typical power dynamics of his era.”

“What does that mean?” Kirara said. They were smarter than Hakari, but not by much, and spending time with the latter had definitely made them even dumber than you remembered.

“I was the most powerful,” Kashimo said. “That’s what you were wanting to know, right?”

“No!” you said. “Forget about it. What about the L/Ns? Did you know any of them in your time?”

“L/Ns?” Kashimo said, furrowing his brow. “Oh, yeah, the healers. I remember them. Never met any, though — none of them could fight, so I had no cause to. I do think one of their daughters married one of the Gojos at some point or something. I believe his name was Hisashi? I’m not sure. I beat him in a fight once, but that’s the extent of my knowledge of him.”

“I guess you probably weren’t invited to the wedding,” you said.

“I was not,” he affirmed. You sighed.

“That’s to be expected. Well, anyways, can you tell me anything about the past?” you said.

“The people…were not very strong?” he said.

“Forget about it,” you said. “Thanks for trying.”

“Now that that’s over with and like I was saying before you interrupted me, we’re going to feed him sour Skittles!” Kirara said.

“Why?” you said.

“We want to see how his body reacts,” Hakari explained. “Will the flavors fry his tongue? Will the food coloring destroy his brain activity? We just have to know!”

“I didn’t think you were much for experimentation,” you said. “Also, how’d you get him to agree to it?”

“They used to call me the god of lightning!” Kashimo said passionately as you turned off the stove and poured the soup into a container for Maki. “I will not be defeated by some colored sweets!”

“Uh-huh,” you said. “Well, you all have fun with that. I will be somewhere far away, not partaking in the festivities.”

“We’ll miss you!” Hakari said.

“Not really!” Kirara said.

“Let us get on with the challenge!” Kashimo declared as you pulled a spoon out of the drawer and left the kitchen with the soup in your hands, the door shutting behind you just as Kashimo cried out in surprise, “What the hell is this? Why are the edges of my tongue curling? Answer me, gambling boy! What have you fed me?”

It had been a migraine of a conversation, but a part of you was thankful for it. Hakari and Kirara were the same as always, and on the one hand it felt irreverent to be joking around when you had lost so much, but on the other, it was a relief to just argue with your upperclassmen as if nothing was wrong, as if this was just another day at the school and there were no stakes and nothing on the line.

When you finally deemed Kurusu recovered enough to attempt to unseal Gojo, you all began to set up for the unsealing. You couldn’t bear to watch, standing behind Yuta and using his fingers as a blindfold so that you didn’t have to see.

“Are you okay?” he said when you had first taken his hand and pressed it over your eyes, holding onto his wrist for support, your thumb resting on his pulse point for reassurance.

“What if something goes wrong? What if he’s gotten hurt in there? What if unsealing him does something to him? I already had to — with Tullia — I can’t — not again. I can’t again,” you said. The words you could not say even now were on the tip of your tongue, but Yuta did not force you to utter them. Instead, he leaned to kiss you, taking them from you at his mercy and without any effort on your part, his one hand still shielding you from the world, the other gripping the curve of your waist and digging into the flesh like a tether.

“This is Gojo we’re talking about. Our teacher, the strongest sorcerer of the modern era. Do you really think something as simple as getting unsealed will be enough to take him out?” he said when he pulled away.

“Well, probably not,” you said.

“Right,” he said. “So don’t fret. Don’t you want to see him when he comes?”

“Yes,” you said reluctantly. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you should probably open your eyes,” he said, letting his hand slide away, stroking your cheek as he did so. You did as he suggested but did not dare look at where Kurusu was getting ready to use Angel’s technique on the Prison Realm.

“Do you mean to say that you aren’t scared?” you said.

“Actually, I’m terrified,” he confessed. “But for you, I’ll be strong. You’re the one who taught me how to be like that, so in return I’ll do my best.”

“You don’t have to,” you said. “It’s okay for us to both be afraid together.”

“Let’s be brave instead,” he said. “That’s the better way.”

For some reason, Hakari had been given the go ahead to count down. You had protested, claiming he probably couldn’t even count to three, but you had been told that you were “letting your biases color your words” and that “Hakari wasn’t that stupid” — which was patently untrue, in your opinion — so overall, you had gone largely ignored.

“Three, two, one!” Hakari shouted triumphantly. “Go!”

This time, you squinted because of the brilliance of Angel’s technique as it struck the Prison Realm. Yuta stood in front of you when he noticed, his broad body deflecting most of the light, ensuring that no harm befell you. Even though you didn’t necessarily need his protection to this extent, you knew it brought him some peace of mind to take care of you, so you never complained about it.

“Where is he?” you said when the dust settled and the earth stopped shaking and there was nothing there at all. “Kurusu? Where is he?”

“Did you kill Gojo?” Itadori screeched, his hands in his hair and his expression one of a shock so extreme that it would almost be comical if you did not share the emotion.

“Wow,” Kashimo observed. “What kind of strongest sorcerer dies so quickly?”

“Don’t worry, Itadori,” Choso said with that weighty voice of his that always made things sound a bit more palatable. “He’s not gone.”

“Choso is right,” Elakshi said from where she and Noritoshi were crouching behind a road sign. “The balance of the world’s energy would’ve shifted dramatically if he died.”

“We would’ve felt it,” Noritoshi said. “Y/N, try using your — never mind.”

Cursed signature detection. He was going to ask you to use that in order to figure out where Gojo was, but that was no longer a tool you had at your disposal. You had never felt its loss as acutely as now, when you could only shake your head and show him your empty hands mournfully.

“What do we do now?” Itadori said.

“I’m sorry,” Kurusu said, landing beside you. “I messed up again, didn’t I? I really thought I did it right this time.”

Before any of you could say anything, a heavy presence electrified the air with its sheer power, making your ears pop from the pressure it exuded. You held your breath, not daring to hope until you saw him before you.

The air shimmered, and then Satoru Gojo winked into existence, looking the same as always, his too-bright smile sharp like a set of knives, his diamond eyes glinting as he regarded all of you.

“Is that him?” Kurusu said. For a second, nobody moved, and then you beamed so hard that your cheeks ached.

“Gojo!” you said. “Gojo!”

It was when you embraced him that you realized you had never been alone, not truly. He had always been there. Gojo, your teacher, your brother, he had been there for as long as you could remember. In his own way, he had loved you, and that was the one thing the L/Ns had not managed to deprive you of, could not deprive you of.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, messing with your hair as you held onto him, his Infinity turned off for you as always. “You go through a growth spurt or something? You seem a little different.”

“I’m the head of the L/N clan now,” you said, close to tears. “Does that count?”

“Gojo’s here!” Itadori whooped. “Guys, it’s Gojo! Kurusu didn’t kill him!”

“I didn’t?” Kurusu said. “Oh, yay!”

“Thank goodness,” Elakshi said. “I was actually getting a little concerned for a second there.”

“Now that we know he can come back out, can we seal him for just a little longer?” Utahime said. “I was really enjoying my time without him. It was better than a paid vacation with complementary drinks.”

“Head of the L/N clan?” Gojo said, paying the others no mind. “Nice job. I expected nothing less of my former student. I taught you well, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” you said. “I really missed you, by the way.”

“Oh, don’t be so sentimental! You’ll make me all weepy in front of everyone, and then I’ll lose my notoriety as the ice-cold strongest,” he said. “Now! We have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it, so enough with the welcoming party! Let’s get to work.”

“Of course, you’re back to business as usual,” you said as he addressed everyone with a stern, professional tone he rarely if ever used.

“You all will need to fill me in about just what is going on at the moment,” Gojo said. “Then, we all need to start training — we have about a month to reach our peaks as sorcerers.”

“What are you talking about?” Noritoshi said.

“I’ll explain later. Y/N, you, Yuji, and Yuta are in charge of giving me the rundown,” Gojo said.

“Sounds good,” you said.

“Maki, please start coming up with training regimens for all willing fighters,” Gojo said. “Hakari, you help her with that.”

“Whatever you say,” Hakari said.

“It’s not a problem,” Maki said, always a little more charitable when it came to Hakari than you were.

“Utahime, please call Mei Mei back from wherever she is; we’ll need her and her brother’s help, most likely,” he said. Utahime did not argue, always willing to put aside her personal feelings when it came to her job.

“Shoko, please organize the L/N healers into effective units and get them used to coordinating with one another,” Gojo continued. “Ah, with Y/N’s permission, naturally.”

“Of course,” you said, still a bit bemused at how brutally efficient he was after being unsealed. “Tell them you’re acting on my authority, and if any of them give you trouble, send them my way. They should listen, though; all of them are still a little nervous when it comes to me.”

“The L/Ns never did have much of a backbone,” Ieri said wryly. “No worries. I’ll take care of them.”

“And the most important order of business!” he said. Everyone waited with bated breath, wondering what could be more important than everything he had already assigned, and who would get that role. “Mrs. L/N!”

“Er, me?” your mother said, pointing at herself. Gojo nodded, and then he batted his eyelashes at her, as if he were a schoolboy asking for a new toy or something.

“Can you please make cookies for me? I’m a little hungry,” he said.

“Oh, goodness,” your mother said. “You are as spoiled as ever. Yes, I can do that.”

“Alright!” he cheered. “Come on, then, you three. Start catching me up while we wait for those bad boys to bake.”

You, Itadori, and Yuta glanced at one another and then simultaneously decided not to question it. It was obviously some kind of coping mechanism, and besides, he didn’t even know what had happened recently, so he could not be blamed for his flippant attitude at all.

“Where should we start?” Yuta said.

“From the beginning,” Gojo said. “That moment I got sealed. What happened right after that?”

So the three of you summed up everything for Gojo, and for the first time since Shibuya, it did not feel quite so hopeless. For the first time, you thought you might even have a chance at winning, at making it out with the few of you that were still left intact. In that golden moment, with the smell of cookies wafting in the air and Gojo in front of you and Yuta at your side, you thought something which you hadn’t since Tullia had died: that maybe happiness was not such an impossible ideal after all, that maybe all of you could someday soon attain it.

#yuuta x reader #yuuta x y/n #yuuta x you #reader insert #canon au #pomegranate ink #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 1 year

Text

Salvation - Six Months Later (Reader)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Six months after the end of Salvation, Reader thinks life with Matt couldn't get any more perfect -- except then it does.

Warnings/Tags: None. This is pure fluff.

Word Count: ~2500

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Y/F/N Y/L/N sang softly to herself as she headed upstairs towards her boyfriend's apartment. "So this is love, mmm mmm mmm mmm, so this is love, mmm mmm mmm mmm, so this is what makes life divine… I'm all aglow, mmm mmm mmm mmm, and now I know, the key to all heaven is mine…"

If someone had told her two years ago that she would be in a stable, loving relationship (and most importantly, safe and happy) she probably would've laughed in their face, but here she was, on her way to meet up with Matt after work.

He had been teaching her Braille after work and on the weekends for the past several months, and Y/N was finally starting to recognize the Braille letters without a guide.

As she made it to Matt's door it opened to reveal the man himself, still clad in his business suit from work but sans jacket and tie, with the top button of his shirt undone.

Y/N grinned. Although she had long since come to terms with the fact that her boyfriend was Daredevil, she was still somewhat getting used to his heightened senses, including his ability to hear when she was nearby. "Hi, love."

"Mmm. Hi." Matt gave her a kiss. "You're in a good mood."

Y/N nodded. "Yep, I finally finished that book edit I had been working on, and I also got the discovery we received yesterday from Banks, Conway, and Reed sorted and organized while you were in court this afternoon."

"Hey, that's great, sweetheart." Matt moved out of the doorway so she could enter. "Ready to practice reading some Braille?"

Y/N nodded as she stepped inside. "Yep. I've been studying hard."

She pulled the elementary Braille workbook she had been learning from out of her bag.

Matt shook his head. "I thought we could try something a little different today."

"Oh, okay. What do you have in mind?"

"I figured we can move on to just having you read some Braille copy and telling me what it says."

Y/N put the workbook back in her bag and set it on the kitchen island. "Yeah, okay, we can try that."

"I've been really impressed with your progress, sweetheart. You're learning pretty quickly."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the praise. "Well you know, it's because I have a really good teacher."

Matt grinned. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm. The best." Y/N wrapped her arms around Matt's waist and gave him a kiss. "Love you."

"Love you too." Matt gave her another kiss. "Be right back."

Y/N moved to the sofa as Matt went to his bedroom and came back with a small stack of printed Braille paper.

Matt set the stack down on the coffee table and sat next to her.

He read the top sheet, then slid it over to Y/N. "Ok, try reading this one."

Y/N concentrated as she tried to decipher the text. "Never gonna give you up… Never gonna let you down… Never gonna turn around and desert you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Matthew Murdock, did you just Rick Roll me in Braille?"

Matt grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "You goof."

Matt swapped the top page for another one. "Okay, now this one."

"The writ of… Habeas Corpus is… a recourse… in law through which… a person can -- can report an unlawful detention… or imprisonment to a court… and request… that the court determine… whether the detention is lawful."

Matt nodded. "Very good."

He had her read through a few more legal documents before taking a deep breath and sliding one final piece of Braille paper in front of her. "Okay, try this one."

Y/N closed her eyes this time as she ran her fingers over the raised bumps. "Y/N," she slowly read out loud, "will… you… marry… me?" Wait, what?

Her eyes flew open and she turned towards Matt. "What? Are you serious?"

Matt huffed out a nervous laugh. "Very serious."

He stood then moved in front of Y/N, pulling a red velvet square box out of his pants pocket as he knelt down on the floor. He opened the box to reveal a beautiful, custom-made ring. "What do you say, sweetheart? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Y/N's mind was still reeling. "Yes," she breathed.

A huge smile spread across Matt's face. "Yes?"

Y/N let out a watery laugh and joined him on the floor. "Yes, Matt. Yes, of course I'll marry you."

Matt took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. "We both know all too well that life is short, so I don't want to wait to get married. However long our forever is, I want to spend it with you as my wife."

Y/N cupped Matt's face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. "Yes, absolutely, I'm in. How soon are you thinking?"

Matt grinned. "Honestly I'd have already booked us a flight to Vegas so I could marry you tonight if I'd have thought you'd have agreed to it, but I know Foggy would kill me if we got married without him and Karen there."

Y/N laughed. "True."

"The waiting period for a marriage license here is only 24 hours, so we could actually go to the clerk's office tomorrow and get married on Tuesday at the courthouse."

Y/N shook her head. "As tempting as that sounds, it honestly would feel kind of weird being married by one of the judges you argue cases in front of, especially if it wound up being Judge Haynes since he just sentenced my ex-boyfriend to 40 years in Rikers less than a month ago. Besides, I know you probably always had your heart set on getting married in the church, so no matter how simple our wedding ceremony is, do you want to see if Father Lantom can marry us instead?"

She couldn't help but smile at the almost imperceptible flicker of relief that flitted across Matt's face as he pulled out his phone. "I'll call him now."

Matt found Father Lantom's number and hit the dial button, then put the phone on speaker.

"Matthew? Is everything alright?" Father Lantom said in greeting.

"Hi Father Lantom, yes, everything is fine," Matt replied. "I'm actually calling with good news -- Y/N and I are engaged and we'd like you to perform our wedding ceremony."

"Oh, well, congratulations to the both of you. When were you two looking at getting married?"

"As soon as possible -- this week, preferably."

"Ah. I see." Matt could hear Father Lantom shuffle some papers around. "Well normally there's counseling and workshops and other things you need to do, but since it's all really up to the individual parish I can make an exception to a majority of it. Let's see… I can fit you in before afternoon Mass on Saturday, but can you both meet with me at some point this week to fill out paperwork and do the required portion of pre-Cana?"

Y/N gave Matt's hand a gentle squeeze. "Would tomorrow afternoon work?" she whispered. "We can get our marriage license before going over there."

Matt nodded. "Is tomorrow afternoon good for you?" he asked Father Lantom.

Y/N could hear Father Lantom flipping pages in his planner. "4 o'clock?"

"Yes, I'm sure that will be fine."

"Okay, good. Congratulations again, Matthew. See you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Father. Goodbye."

He hung up. "Want to FaceTime Foggy and Karen to tell them the news or wait to tell them in person tomorrow?"

"Let's tell them now."

Y/N waited while Matt grabbed his glasses, then they moved to the sofa.

"Oh hey, you want to try to get our wedding bands tomorrow afternoon too?" Matt said. "I think the jewelry store right down the street from the church is open until seven during the week."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

"I'm also thinking we could all have dinner at Mimi's after the ceremony since we're not going to have a traditional reception either. We could stop by and pick up something for dinner and make reservations while we're there."

Y/N grinned. "Honestly, my love, that sounds perfect. What better way to celebrate our marriage than at the place we had our first date?"

"Good, then that's settled." Matt pulled up Foggy's contact and tapped the Facetime button. "Okay, here we go."

Foggy answered after a couple of rings. "Hey, you guys, what's up?" he said in greeting.

"Hey, Foggy," Matt replied. "Is Karen around? Y/N and I want to talk to the two of you about something."

"Oh, yeah, just a sec. Hey, Kare! Matt and Y/N are on Facetime!"

"Okay, be right there!" Y/N heard Karen call out from another room.

She appeared in the frame a few seconds later. "Hey guys," she said as she sat next to Foggy on the sofa. "What's going on?"

Matt took a deep breath. "Well, we have some news…"

He took Y/N's hand in his and raised it to his mouth for a kiss, showing off her ring.

"Oh my God, congrats you two!" Karen said happily.

"YES!" Foggy cheered. "It's about time. Y/N, did you know Matt's been carrying that ring around for the past six months?"

"No, I didn't!" Y/N turned to Matt. "Really?"

Matt ducked his head. "Yeah, actually. I bought it the day I realized I was in love with you and picked it up the day we actually said it for the first time. I've just been waiting for the right time to propose since I didn't want to do it while your ex's case was still open."

Y/N's heart fluttered. "Aww, Matt, baby… "

Matt gave her hand a loving squeeze before turning his head back to his phone. "Anyway, we're getting married this Saturday afternoon at Clinton Church."

Foggy chuckled. "Wow, you two aren't wasting any time."

Y/N shook her head. "As we all know entirely too well, a long life is not guaranteed, so Matt and I want to spend whatever time we have left on this earth together as husband and wife."

Foggy nodded. "That makes sense."

"We want you two to be our witnesses," Matt added. "No matter when or where we get married, we want the two other most important people in our lives to be there."

"Absolutely," Foggy said. "We wouldn't miss it for anything."

"Yeah, we'd both be honored," Karen chimed in. "And we can help with whatever planning you need us to do to make sure everything is set by Saturday."

"Actually, Kare, would you go dress shopping with me?" Y/N said. "I'm not planning on wearing a traditional wedding dress, but I figure I'll still be able to find something suitable at the department store."

Karen nodded. "Yeah, sure. When did you want to go?"

"Probably Tuesday after work? We're meeting with Father Lantom and getting our marriage license and wedding bands tomorrow, so I can't go dress shopping then."

Karen grinned. "Yeah, sounds great."

"Thanks."

Foggy checked his watch. "We gotta run because we're having Sunday dinner with my family, but we'll see you guys tomorrow. And congrats again!"

Matt grinned. "Thanks."

"Yeah, thanks," Y/N added.

Karen waved. "Bye!"

"Bye!"

"Okay, so it's settled," Y/N said as Matt hung up and repocketed his phone. "On Saturday afternoon we say 'I do'. That gives us, what, 5 days to figure out where we're going to live after we're married?"

Matt chuckled. "Actually when I think about our life together I always imagine us at your place. It's bigger and has more space than my apartment, and it's closer to the office."

He grinned and pointed at the window. "Plus there's the perk of not having a giant neon billboard outside your window."

Y/N laughed lightly. "Well that's true. I'm fine with that if you are. We're at my place most of the time anyway."

Matt nodded. "I think that's probably the best option, at least for now. We can decide later if we want to get another place together, and we can rent out my apartment until we eventually sell it since it might not go too quickly."

"Okay. Want me to see if I can find some blackout curtains that'll fit the window? It might help it sell faster, if that's what you're worried about."

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, sweetheart."

"So how are we going to consolidate our furniture? We might be able to turn one of the spare bedrooms into an office for you, maybe put your couch in there? I don't know how we're going to get it up the stairs though unless we hire movers."

Matt shook his head. "I'm gonna leave my apartment furnished, so all we'll have to move are my personal items. It's not like I have a lot of stuff."

Y/N's eyebrows raised. "Wow, you really have thought about this, haven't you?"

Matt smiled softly. "Spending the rest of my life with you? Yeah. Quite a bit, actually."

Y/N bit her lip. "What do you think about adding you to the deed on the townhouse? Think Foggy can do that for us sometime next week?"

"Yeah, he's got some experience with quitclaim deeds from back when we were interns. I was planning on adding you to the deed here so we can have joint ownership of my apartment anyway, but you just finished getting everything transferred from your aunt's name to yours, you sure you don't want to wait on that?"

Y/N shook her head and linked her fingers through Matt's. "I want our home to be our home. Besides, I'm going to wind up getting my name changed on the deed anyway, so while I'm doing that I might as well add my husband as co-owner, right?"

"Oh right." Matt gave her hand a light squeeze. "That's a very good point… Mrs. Murdock."

Y/N's heart fluttered. "Mmm, Mrs. Murdock. I kinda like how that sounds."

Matt grinned. "I like how it sounds too, Mrs. Murdock."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Keep it up and I'm going to wind up dragging you into your bedroom to show you exactly just how much I like it."

Matt raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Is that a threat or a promise, Mrs. Murdock?"

"Okay, that's it, mister." Y/N stood and pulled Matt up, letting out a shriek of laughter as her fiancé scooped her up into his arms and carried her off to his bedroom.

#lotmf writes #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x yn #Salvation Masterlist

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