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scorchieart · 9 months

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⬥◇◆ Clothes Shopping with the Ikeprinces ◆◇⬥

With Act 3 and Silvio's route just around the corner, let's slow down, take a step back, and remember how we all ended up in here. Particularly, how we all ended up in these clothes.

Silvio’s Dubious Preorder ◆◇⬥

*the front door to the clothes shop opens in the middle of the night*

Shopkeeper: Who’s there?

Silvio: Your worst nightmare…

*Silvio drops a heavy bag of coins in the shopkeeper's hands*

Silvio: And your salvation.

Shopkeeper: What?

Silvio: Listen closely, tailor. Tomorrow you will be visited by a pathetic pack of princes with questionable fashion sense. They are in search of new outfits to wear for the upcoming story arc and have chosen your lousy shop as their genius loci. Lucky you.

Shopkeeper: …What?

Silvio: I’ll be in attendance as well, but I’m only interested in an outfit that’ll blow everyone else’s out of the water, so I’ll mostly be observing from the sides. All you gotta do is keep those other guys occupied and catch all the notes I send your way. You’re an experienced man, you’ll know when I’m dropping you a hint. But no one else needs to know about our little deal, capisce?

*Silvio pats the coin bag and leaves. Shopkeeper puts on glasses and cleans out his ears*

Shopkeeper: WHAT?

⬥◇◆THE NEXT DAY ◆◇⬥

Judge Yves, Round 1 ◆◇⬥

Yves: As members of Rhodolite’s domestic faction, we are the pillars our citizens look towards to represent the values our kingdom instills in art, culture, and conduct. The outfits we select today must not only reflect the propriety expected of the royal family, but also that of our people for generations to follow.

Yves: Jin! Button your shirt all the way up right this moment!

Jin: You can’t cage the collarbones, Yves!

Yves: Leon! Too much detailing will overwhelm your conversation partners! You look like you’re drowning in gold.

Leon: But you’re talking to me just fine now?

Yves: Licht! You look wonderful, of course. But if I had to nitpick, the white on your lapels clashes with your black jacket. Try wearing more color, you don’t want to look like a walking chessboard.

*Sariel slowly backs into the dressing room*

Nokto Seeing Double ◆◇⬥

Nokto: No, this blue vest doesn’t bring out my eyes quite right.

*hands vest over to Licht. Licht tries it on*

Nokto: Hm… and these tassels make my face look too narrow.

*hands shoulder pads over to Licht. Licht tries them on*

Nokto: And these black gloves clash horribly with my hair, what was I thinking?

*hands gloves over to Licht. Licht tries them on*

Nokto: You look great, Licht. Ugh, nothing in this entire store works for me!

*a bag of coins flies across the store*

Silvio: Tailor! No vests, tassels, or gloves!

Judge Yves, Round 2 ◆◇⬥

Yves: Ahem! I’m only doing this because you four are an extension of Rhodolite beyond the borders, and I don’t want you messing up our image in front of our neighbors. It’s not like I particularly care how you dress everyday!

Nokto: Aww, Evie, you care~

Yves: Shut it! Ahem! For starters, the white theme you all have is a very nice choice. It’s a good idea to set up a visual indicator to let others know you’re working as a team.

Clavis: Oh, that wasn’t intentional. This humble shop is simply fortunate enough to have had enough pieces for each of us. Otherwise, these poor white coats would have been prematurely stained red! Hahaha!

Yves: Wha—?

Clavis: With strawberry jam, of course! Chev gets particularly pouty when someone wears white instead of him. I wouldn’t put it past him to “accidentally” sully that poor someone’s outfit with his toast.

Luke: That’s why I eat mine with honey instead!

Yves: No, that’s why we eat breakfast before we leave the palace!

*Yves swipes the toast from Chevalier and Luke*

Yves: Luke! If you’re going to wear white, you can’t carry honeyed toast in your pockets!

Yves: Clavis! If you’re going to wear a coat over a jacket again, at least make them match in style this time!

Yves: Nokto! If you’re not going to button your vest all the way, you have to wear a shirt underneath!

*Chevalier covers his chest and slowly backs into the dressing room*

Small Talk Sariel ◆◇⬥

*In a quiet corner of the store, Keith looks over himself in the mirror. Sariel notices and joins him*

Sariel: Ah, a modest choice, Prince Keith. Were you to show Prince Yves, I am certain he would impart nothing but praise.

Keith: 🙂

Sariel: Modesty is, of course, cornerstone for a prince to emblem. Although, with our continent so rife with rowdy royals, one would not want to appear too humble, lest he be trampled by his more verbally-inclined peers.

Keith: 😐

Sariel: But too loud a statement piece would have a similar effect of disfavor among colleagues. One would not want to appear too brash in company of those whose opinions matter.

Keith: 😟

Sariel: Finding that sweet spot in the middle is crucial to deduce, and this is the moment to do it. Tell me, Prince Keith, is this the outfit you wish to present to the world in the next act?

Keith: Excuse me, I seem to have misplaced something in the dressing room.

*another bag of coins flies across the store*

Silvio: Make it loud, tailor!

Multi-talented and Multi-purpose Luke ◆◇⬥

Luke: Hey, Yves! How about this? I keep the lid open just enough to stick a spoon in like this, and my pockets get to stay completely… Hey, you okay?

*Yves blushes in surprise*

Yves: Yes, yes! Why wouldn’t I be?

Luke: Well, you’ve been standing by the hair accessories for a long time now.

Yves: Because there’s no one else here. I need rest from evaluating all your outfits, obviously.

*Luke puts down the honey jar*

Luke: Hey, close your eyes for a bit.

Yves: What for?

Luke: Just trust me. Besides, you said you wanted to rest, right?

*5 minutes later*

Luke: Tada! Whaddya think?

Yves: How did you…?

Luke: My sister used to make me braid her hair all the time. I’d say I’m pretty good at it, eh?

*Yves blushes in joy*

Yves: Thank you. But how did you manage to keep it in place? You didn’t use any clips or anything.

Luke: Oh, that’s ‘cause I packed it tight with honey. It oughta keep its shape all week, plus it’s good for the scalp. Bonus!

*Yves blushes in rage*

Life Lessons with Big Brother Jin ◆◇⬥

Jin: Hey, Chevalier. Come try this cloak on, it’ll help cover your…

*Chevalier quickly wipes his mouth and hides his hands behind his back*

Jin: …

Chevalier: …

Jin: Chev…

Chevalier: I was merely inspecting them for poisons.

Jin: Come on, big guy. We’ve been through this.

Chevalier: The showoff apprehended my toast.

Jin: You can’t eat the roses.

Chevalier: …

Jin: …

Chevalier: The yellow ones taste best.

Jin: So you’ve told me.

*yet another bag of coins flies across the store*

Silvio: Bring me the juiciest rose you have! I know you’re keeping it from me!

Gilbert’s Infinite Hyperspace ◆◇⬥

Gilbert: Are you sure the shopkeeper won’t mind you making alterations to his designs?

Clavis: That wonderful man doesn’t need to worry about a single hair on his rapidly balding head! I won’t be defiling his style because all the additions I’m making will be completely hidden from sight.

Gilbert: How like you to run your dirty work in the shadows. Such fun.

Clavis: I wouldn’t use that particular arrangement of words to describe it, per se. But considering Sariel has egregiously forbidden me from purchasing more than one belt today, I am forced to improvise my carry-on capabilities.

Gilbert: Ah, pockets! How very fun, indeed!

Clavis: Not just any pockets! Secret pockets! And just look at this enormous canvas I have to work with! Only… my hands were full on the way over here carrying Chevalier’s breakfast, so I wasn’t able to bring much of my usual tools to measure. I don’t like leaving the palace without at least a net or two on hand.

Gilbert: You can borrow mine!

*Gilbert produces a large fish net out of thin air*

Clavis: How fortunate, this will work nicely! I do wish I could have brought my trusty shovel with me, though.

Gilbert: Regular or extra large?

*Gilbert produces two digging shovels out of thin air*

Clavis: Ah... R-regular is fine…

Gilbert: Anything else?

Clavis: You’ve been plenty helpful, I couldn’t impose—

Gilbert: No need to be shy. You still have plenty of space to work with, I see.

Clavis: …

Gilbert: Try me.

Clavis: …Well, I do like to be armed with more than just my sword—

Gilbert: How about this?

*Gilbert produces a hatchet out of thin air*

Clavis: … Thank you.

Gilbert: What are friends for?

*Gilbert claps his hands, taps his cane twice, and pulls a tiny comb out of the heel of his boot. He combs Clavis’s hair out of his eyes and walks away smiling as the largest bag of coins yet flies across the store*

Silvio: Secret pockets! But don’t tell anyone where they are, you hear? Not even me!

Doggy See, Doggy Do ◆◇⬥

Leon: Find anything you like, Rio?

Rio: Lots! But I’m just not sure she’d like them, too.

Leon: Why not show me what you got so far? I may not be Yves or Sariel, but I’ll bet I can point out a stinker in the mix.

Rio: Okay then. What do you think of this gilded vest?

Leon: Awesome! The color matches your eyes perfectly. That’s good… I think?

*Coin bag toss #1*

Silvio: Tailor! Look into my eyes and get me a jacket that matches them perfectly! No, not a vest! We said no vests!

Rio: Huh, that was weird. Anyway, what about this broach?

Leon: She’d love it! The looped design brings out the curves of your smile just right. That kind of attention to detail is probably really important.

*Coin bag toss #2*

Silvio: Tailor! Bring me your loopiest jewelry! The more hoops, the better!

Rio: Did you hear something? Ah, nevermind. Do you think I should go with one earring or two?

Leon: Hmm… Yves rocks the one earring look—

*Coin bag toss #3*

Silvio: Tailor! I want your gaudiest single earring in my palm right this second!

Leon: —but earrings are supposed to come in pairs, right? So maybe two would be fine. For symmetry, and all that.

*Coin bag toss #4*

Silvio: Make that two!

Leon: Sorry, I’m not too sure, to be honest.

*Rio knowingly smirks*

Rio: Your advice is great, Prince Leon. Tell me, what do you think of these snow boots?

Leon: Well, it’s not exactly winter. But they’re really a statement piece, and she might appreciate a good conversation starter.

*Coin bag toss #5*

Silvio: I need the furriest boots you’ve got in this place, pronto!

Rio: And this zebra-print cloak?

Leon: Chevalier looks good in tiger stripes. I guess that’s basically the same thing.

*Coin bag toss #6*

Silvio: Where do you keep the darn striped fabrics, old man?

Rio: Great! What’s your opinion on oversized hats?

Leon: Uhh… go big or go home?

*Coin bag toss #7*

Silvio: GO BIG OR GO HOME!!

Leon: Hey, Rio, do you hear an echo?

Rio: Nope. Just the sound of a nation’s GDP falling.

I wanted to add a joke about their gloves, but this post is getting way out of hand, even without puns.

Tagging: @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx @otomefoxystar @my-day6

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

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Hello there, how is your day?? Can I ask for one fic for drider boyfriend series where he made reader wear his web silk (as a dress) which is very rare in his community as it shows that the person wearing it is their mate and so far the humans are only kept as pet by drider community......and reader is looking so sweet and cute wrapped up in the web silk that whole community is cooing and praising them for being a good human mate??? I found ur works yesterday and I'm obsessed.... really u are great!!! Thanx ❤

My day was good, thanks for asking! I had a cup of tea and my cat is sleeping on my lap. This is actually a long one because I like this idea a lot <3 Your drider boyfriend also gets a name in this one ^_^

Word count: 1.5K

W: sfw monster fluff

Fluff Masterpost

Tip Jar

“Oh no,” your drider grumbled as he cradled you on his chest. He’d made a little hammock for the two of you and you were curled up on him listening to his heartbeat while he knitted. You weren’t sure what he was referring to until you heard a scrabble that usually meant a drider was coming.

“Vass!” a soft voice filled the darkness and another set of eyes, these glowing yellow hovered nearby.

“Uh…hello Strix, what brings you here?” Vass asked, but he didn’t sound like he was really very interested.

The other drider tossed a wad of silk at him and he had to grab you with two legs and pull you away to avoid getting hit with it. His knitting tumbled off of his lap and ended up tangled over some threads. He examined the fabric in his other arms, fingering the material.

“You haven’t been practicing your weaving Strix,” he said, frowning, “this is very rough. Do you want me to help you fix it?”

He shook out the fabric and it appeared to be some kind of garment made of white silk, but the neckline was all crooked and the stitching was visible in the uneven sleeves. The intruding drider looked horrified.

“No!” he snapped, “it’s for the mating ceremony…f-for…for you!”

All of Vass’s eyes narrowed.

“No means no Strix!” he growled, “I don’t care what my mother says, I’m not mating with you!”

“B-but she said you just needed some time…and a romantic gesture…I don’t understand…she said…” his tone got harder, “I already worked this all out with her! She said you would learn to love me and you would return to the castle with me so we can rule!”

Vass tossed the garment back at Strix.

“I haven’t spoken to my mother in ten years,” he snapped back, “and I don’t appreciate having my life meddled with. I told my mother that when I left, and I’m telling you now. I don’t plan on mating a drider and becoming regent. I want a simple life here in the country. Nothing you or she says or brings me is going to change that! Tell her if she wants you to rule, she can adopt you! Now you need to go!”

Strix looked like he was going to argue but Vass grabbed a knitting needle and brandished it, so the drider thought better of it and scuttled away.

Your drider huffed, examining his ruined knitting and tossed whatever he had been working on to the side. It was tangled beyond salvation.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “I thought my mother had given up on controlling my life…but I guess not…”

You gave him a sympathetic nod. You would give him some words of encouragement, but he still kept you gagged except for when you were eating. A look of affection and then determination crossed his face as he traced your nose with the pad of his thumb.

He patted your head and hung you back up on his web, out of the way, while he set himself to weaving something new with his silk. You could only watch his back muscles flex as he cut and sewed fabric. You fell asleep watching him work late into the early hours.

–

You woke early the next day to the drider humming happily. He smiled at you with a knowing look while he fed you your breakfast and was practically skipping over the threads of his web while he cleaned your face and body. He spent especially long braiding the threads of your hair into an intricate style. Finally, with a big grin he tugged your clothes off of you like you were just a doll, pulling something soft and silky over your head.

“Do you like it?” he asked, stepping back so you could inspect what he’d dressed you in.

It was a lovely dress, the silk delicate but still crisp forming a bell shape around you. He’d somehow woven texture into it and a slightly raised pattern of vines and flowers covered you from your neck to your knees. He pushed your feet into some soft booties to match and spun you around in his arms. He seemed very pleased with his outfit and you couldn’t help but share in his joy. It was very pretty. You felt tiny and delicate next to his larger, more rugged form.

“We have some place special to go today,” he said, “you don’t have to wear a collar if you promise to hold my hand and be very good and quiet.”

You nodded. It was very unlikely you were going to escape this city of driders who seemed to like to keep humans as pets. If you got away from Vass, someone else would take you as their own or you would be sent to a shelter. It was depressing, yes, but you’d had some time to digest the information and Vass kept you full and warm enough that it started to bother you less and less. His face, which had once frightened you, had gotten familiar, handsome even with his many soulful eyes, despite his large teeth.

You’d promised to hold his hand, but Vass carried you in his arms to the large plaza where many other driders were gathering. Like you, many of them were dressed in beautiful robes. They weren’t all white, but it kind of made you proud that yours was. It stood out, not just because of the color but because Vass’s craftsmanship was far beyond any of the others. They seemed to all be organized in pairs, except the ones around the edges of the area who were fanning themselves and lounging in the shade.

“Did you dress your pet up for the ceremony?” an older drider cooed at Vass, “They look so sweet, just like a mate!”

Vass had a very smug look on his face.

“I’m mating them,” he announced and your eyes got wide.

The drider chuckled and waved her hand.

“The youth today,” she laughed, “what will they think of next?”

You got a few strange looks as Vass made his way through the crowd, but mostly driders stopped Vass to compliment your robe and try and pinch your cheeks.

“I’m here to register my mate,” Vass said to the drider standing behind a large open ledger at the front of the court.

His eyes didn’t even look at you.

“They have to be present to sign their name,” he said evenly.

Vass pushed you forward.

“They are right here,” he said, patting you on the head.

The drider’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly but he shrugged and handed you a pen.

“Sign here,” he said.

You had to lean up on your tiptoes to scribble your name next to Vass’s.

The drider took the pen back from you and smiled.

“It is awfully cute when they pretend to be like us,” he admitted, “with their two little legs. How can they even walk?”

He fished around in a basket and pulled out a ribbon, fastening it in your hair and then waved at another drider.

“Arad come see this! This guy has his human dressed up as a mate, it’s so cute!”

Vass lifted his nose, but let them lift your arms and spin you around to look at your outfit.

“Dumpling is my mate!” he grumbled indignantly.

The drider held up his hands apologetically.

“Whatever makes you happy, friend,” the drider said, “I have to say this is my first mating ceremony with a human mate, but it's pretty precious. You’re going to start a trend.”

He leaned down to your level and patted you on the head.

“Do you want to light the fire, little one?” he asked.

His friend grabbed his shoulder.

“Delphon, really? This is a religious ceremony,” he scoffed, but the drider waved him away.

“Come on, it’s harmless and it’ll be cute! Look how pretty it is in its little dress and its even wearing the mating ribbon. Who’s gonna object?”

That’s how you ended up shaking, standing in front of a hundred paired driders holding a candle after Delphon delivered the mating speech declaring you were linked to the drider until death. You had to stand on your tiptoes again to hold the flame up to the ceremonial pyre symbolizing the start of the futures of all of the mates gathered, including your own.

A round of applause went up signaling that you’d completed the mission and you turned around to find Vass beaming at you. He swept you up in his arms and spun you around.

“That was perfect, dumpling!” he said, smooching you on the head.

You would have happily head home to go back to your warm snuggle, but the driders swarmed you. Everyone wanted pictures with the adorable human mate that lit the mating pyre. Finally, as the sun set, Vass carried you home fast asleep on his back, flipping through the pictures he took of the two of you on his phone with a smile on his face.

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster lover #human x monster #monster #drider #drider boyfriend #drider x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere fluff #monster fluff #sfw fluff

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

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𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐆𝐮𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚

Mini Drabble

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (gender neutral) Reader

Summary: things at home suck so Eddie offers you salvation at his place

Warnings: parents arguing, tiniest bit of angst, mostly fluff

A/N: a self-indulgent fic? from me? never.... um yeah let’s just say this is my current go to reality shift when shit gets hectic at home. I hope you guys like this and enjoy our favourite cool guy goofball, Eddie Munson <3

You were on the phone to your boyfriend Eddie when you started to hear the shouting through the walls. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on what Eddie was saying to you.

But you just couldn’t.

And soon that horrible stressed and sad feeling came to sit in your chest; the same one you always felt every time your parents got into it.

For a moment you’re lost in the overwhelming anxiety, your breath getting shaky and your eyes tearing up despite your best efforts to keep it together.

“Hey, you okay?” You suddenly hear Eddie’s voice cut through the phone line. “What’s going on?”

You sniff quietly, wiping the few escaped tears on the sleeve of Eddie’s shirt that you’d ‘borrowed’.

“Yeah no I’m okay” you shrug. “Just my parents again. Arguing and whatever” you try to sound casual.

You hear a sad, knowing sigh from the other end of the line.

“What’s it about this time?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” even you could hear the pain in your voice.

Eddie sighs again, this one somehow having an angrier edge to it. The phone stays silent for a few seconds before his voice crops up again.

“Do you want me to come over?” He asks sincerely.

You scoff a small sad laugh.

“And add to the drama here? Yeah, thanks baby, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah you’re probably right” he sighs again. “You wanna come over here then? My uncle’s out for the night so it’d just be us.”

A small relieved smile pulls at your lips.

“Can I? Are you sure?”

“Yeah well I actually really wanted to ask you over anyway, but, I didn’t wanna seem too clingy” Eddie quips sarcastically. “Have to maintain to my cool guy persona, ya know?”

You can practically feel his wink and his smirk through the phone. You and Eddie both giggle softly through the phone. You hear Eddie sigh faintly before he speaks again.

“If you can sneak out I’ll pick you up at the corner in 15, okay?”

“Okay” you nod despite knowing he can’t see you. “Thank you” you whisper.

“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit,” he confirms. “Love you” you hear the sound of the car keys in the background as he makes his way to his van.

Another silent tear escapes your eye, but this one was filled with love; a leak from the swelling in your heart at how much you adored this goofball.

“Love you too” you whisper before putting the phone down.

And sure enough, just over 15 minutes later, you see his van pull round the corner to where you were waiting. You’re quick to hop in and slide into the front seat next to him. He almost immediately cups your face in one hand and brings your lips to meet his in a tender kiss.

“Sorry I’m late sweetheart” he smiles into the kiss.

Masterlist

A/N: it’s unhealthy how much I love this boy, I really just need me one of him in my life so bad. anyways yeah, I hope you guys liked this <3

Taglist // Join My Hive // Ko-Fi

#waspswidows #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x you

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jupitercomet · 1 year

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hi bugs 🫶

i was just thinking, having thoughts when i started thinking like we know that uthd! bob is a total sweetheart right? but when that man is turned on and behind closed doors? then what does he become? because i can see “his eyes darkened” (but in a horknee way) era starting and this man becomes a fucking tease but with an edge if you get what i’m saying? especially bc i can just see him with the long hair and it just feels right. anyways, do with that what you will. i’m always going to push the bob fucks agenda ehehehheeh

-🧚‍♀️

okay, so this isn't exactly the prompt, but I thought about it long and hard (haha hard) and I genuinely think this is what Bob (or at least my Bob) would be like

warnings: ...I tried my best idk, language, religious verbage used about sex (I don't really know what to call it), smut - (oral f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, brief cum play/eating)

Bob Floyd doesn’t fuck.

It’s crass and empty-sounding, and his mother would have his head if he referred to the act as such. Bob Floyd doesn’t fuck because he’s never been with someone who he could have meaningless sex with. Bob doesn’t do one-night stands, or friends with benefits, or any of that shit. Bob Floyd doesn’t fuck.

Bob Floyd doesn’t make love either.

The things he does in the bedroom really only ever border on loving. The filth that leaves his mouth could make the devil heat with embarrassment. Bob Floyd has loved every person he’s ever slept with, but he doesn’t make love to them.

No, Bob Floyd worships.

“Oh, Bobby! Oh, fuck!”

Bob gets on his knees and repents for his sins until his jaw is sore. He finds absolution between your thighs, forgiveness reflects in the essence of you that shines on his lips and chin. He repents until he can’t breathe, until your thighs are vibrating on his shoulders. Darkened blue peer up at you through long lashes. His mouth works as he looks at his salvation.

“Bobby, I can’t—” Your back arches, your hand tugging on the strands of his hair, pulling him from all of the wicked and depraved that surrounds him. “Oh, god!”

Bob thinks that he should be the one saying that.

He drinks from your nectar until his thirst is quenched. Ambrosia coats his tongue for... the third time? The fourth? Bob has lost count. All he knows is that he needs more. His knees ache, his jaw is numb, and Bob worships.

He takes in your soft thighs and stomach and breasts. With his teeth and tongue, he praises and reveres. He memorizes your body like perfection, like art. To him, you’re a goddess. He nips and sucks like every inch of you is holy ground.

“Please,” you’re gasping with pleasure, your hand in his hair to guide him to your face. He complies, Bob is nothing but your follower. “Please fuck me.”

Bob is nothing but your follower.

He loses himself in your warmth. He begs for forgiveness. His every breath is to please you. He looks at his salvation. You open yourself to him, accepting his sins and purifying them with every angel’s song that leaves your lips. You gift him heavenly noises and Bob swallows them greedily.

Though you chant his name, it is he who prays for you. It is his hands that explore your Hellenic body, that worship and adore every handcrafted part of you. It is he who revels in your beauty — like an angel, otherworldly, too magnificent for his eyes to comprehend.

He spills his tainted soul inside you, bringing you to ecstasy like it’s his only purpose. And when you collapse, blissfully content, blinking up at him like you are nothing less than Persephone herself, he kisses you softly, as if to thank you for your benevolence.

Bob Floyd doesn’t fuck.

He watches hypnotized as his sins drip from between your narcissus petals. He traces his finger through the cleansed soul you spill from between your legs and he brings it to your lips like irresistible pomegranate seeds, unable to take his eyes away from the vision of you sucking on his fingers.

Bob Floyd doesn’t make love.

For that would imply that his love is mortal. That it is possible for him to focus on anything more than just your pleasure. Bob loves you in a way that exceeds earthly limits. He cannot see you as anything less than rapture.

So Bob Floyd worships.

He gets on his knees, mesmerized at how he’s filled you with himself. How he’s pleased you and you allowed him the privilege of his own pleasure. Two fingers part your folds so he can watch, what he believes to be, true divinity. He wets his lips.

“Bobby? What's— Oh!”

Most of all, Bob Floyd cleans up his messes.

#bob floyd blurb #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x sweet pea #sweeter than sugar #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

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cupidsyndrome · 4 months

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ᖭི༏ᖫྀ CARELESS WHISPER.

🏹 ANGST , HURT / NO COMFORT. 639 WORDS. 💌 in which after days of searching for him-- he's finally there. now what ? 🩷 cw. none (except for the usual mentions of murder that go hand-in-hand with geto).

you’ve lost countless hours of sleep trying to get there. now, you’re unsure of what to do. you’ve thought about it again and again; unable to find answers to your own torment. you can feel him– well, not exactly him but his energy, overflowing through every nook and crack of the old house. you notice it doesn’t have the same warmth it used to have; it all feels too cold to even be his.

a shadow catches your attention in the corner of your eye. you freeze, your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

it’s him.

he looks better than the last time you’ve seen him; hell, he somehow looks healthier. your appearance seems to take him just as much by surprise– cat-like eyes widening just enough for you to notice it. the both of you spend a long time analyzing the other– still never commenting on it. it almost brings a sense of comfort. the higher-ups told you that he was a lost cause: nothing more than another curse user to get rid of.

you’ve heard of the atrocities he had committed. you’ve seen the atrocities he had committed. why is it still so hard to believe any of it was ever real ? looking into his eyes– you’re only seeing the boy you love. the same one you grew up with, the same one you’ve shared your first kiss with. while his body had grown distant, the familiar tenderness held in his gaze remained there; unaffected, never-changing.

the sight brings tears to your own orbs.

his arm reaches out on instinct.

“don’t,” it comes out as a plea. don’t make this harder than it needs to be, is what you actually mean. he gets it– like he always used to, when it comes to you. he gets it. it doesn’t stop him from taking a step closer, that’s when you notice he still wears the fragrance you’ve been desperately trying to remember for the past few weeks. “don’t– don’t come any closer, i will..” you’ll what ? the words die off your tongue, unable to find the strength to fool him (nor yourself).

he’s close, so close.

if you decide to meet him halfway you’ll be done for. you know it just as much as he does. the consequences, the warnings– it all falls on deaf ears as you take the final leap of faith. whether you’re falling into your own salvation or damnation doesn’t matter. all that matters is the way his calloused hands cradle your face oh-so gently– affection running so deep that your soul feels the soothing of his touch. his tongue darts out to wet his lips; and the fleeting thought that he might kiss you makes you blush. if it wasn’t for the underlying atmosphere, it would have been devastatingly romantic. a part of you thinks it is– no matter what.

you can tell he’s hesitant.

his lips press into a thin line as he lets his thoughts wander. his thumb grazes your bottom lip– it’s a habit of his (“it helps me think,” he once said). you have to remind yourself you’re not seventeen anymore and this house isn’t your dorm. his mouth opens– as if he was about to say something, and only now you realize how eager you are to hear anything he has to say. how eager you are to hear his voice. he chuckles at your expression, adoration adorning his features. you smile at him– and then, there it comes.

‘i’m sorry,’ he doesn’t dare say the words, only mouthing them. you get it.

‘i love you,’ you mouth back.

he lets go of your face after that, turning around and leaving like nothing happened– like he's so used to do. you can only stare at his back as you accept your faith.

freedom isn’t always a gift– sometimes it comes with a curse.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #cupid's arrows #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #geto suguru

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therosebunpost · 8 months

Text

Monster Mash

Werewolf! Steve Harrington x Fem! Blind! Reader

CW: Some small sexual themes (MDI)

For @lesservillain ‘s Strange and Spooky Stories prompts! This finally gave me a chance to write my Werewolf! Steve idea, so thank you so much!

—————

You came to Hawkins for one reason, and one reason alone. You heard about the spooky shit that’s been happening, and as one amateur Paranormal Investigator, you wanted to see what all the hype was about. People didn’t like that idea. Your parents nearly passed out when you told them. “I’ll have Bernard with me!” You’d say, kneeling down and hugging the large Goldie, who barked proudly. Licking your face and tapping his feet against the ground.

Bernard was your trusty partner in crime. Trained from a young puppy, you two had a bond that was unshaken. He was more than just your eyes, he was for all purposes, your best friend. “He’s excited too, aren’t you? You ready to hunt some ghosts? Maybe get into a run-in with some monsters?” You’d gush, your trusty pup woofing in excitement.

Obviously, you were going to be careful. Sure, you joked about battling monsters, but like hell would you actually put yourself or Bernard in danger. It sucked that people didn’t expect that from you, but that’s how it was when you were blind.

You loved proving them wrong, though.

Hawkins was a nice enough town. It was small, from what your research told you. Even smaller than it used to be, after the quakes.

Bernard stayed by your side, dutifully ignoring the coos and pets of strangers as he led you away from the bus station. Guess Hawkins didn’t have a large Blind population, as you had to gently tell people not to distract your faithful companion. It was almost second nature to you, even if it got irritating.

At some point, you managed to stumble into a building for some salvation from the heat. Taking in the vague shapes and colors, it was some kind of store.

“Welcome to Family Video, if you need anything-“

“Oh! You have such a cute dog, oh my god-“

Two voices rung out from in front of you. One masculine and one feminine. You see two human shaped blobs, and one of them was already coming around the counter at record speed.

“Thank you!” You stop her, tucking Bernard behind your legs and keeping your cane in front of you. “He’s working now, though, so please don’t pet him-“

The woman stops, a sharp breath leaving her. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. I won’t. He’s really pretty, sorry about that-“

“It’s alright, thank you.” You relax, eased up by the sincerity in her tone. “Could you help me, actually? Do you know where the local Inn is? I’m staying for a few days and the sun is taking a toll on me. I really don’t want to wander around in it.” You giggle and the woman chuckles in sympathy.

“Yeah! Here, let me find a map. We have some water, if you’re thirsty?” You follow after her retreating form, now stationed in front of the solid mass that you assumed was a counter. The other blob, this one taller and wider in the shoulders, offered a wave before quickly thinking better of it. “Hi! Hey, uh, I’m Steve.”

Steve had a really nice voice. Smooth, and just a touch of an accent you can’t quite place. “Hi Steve.” You return, hoping you were smiling at him and not at the wall. That, and you hoped the heat in your cheeks would die down. You were a sucker for nice voices.

“So, the Inn? What brings you to Hawkins?”

“Well, I’m actually here on a mission!” You tease, giggling and leaning on the counter. “Bernard and I are going monster hunting!” Bernard woofs, but he wasn’t right next to you like you were expecting. Instead he was a little off to the side, and it’s then that you hear the tell tale sounds of sniffing.

“Oh, uh, hey big guy-“

“Bernard!” You rush around the counter without thinking, gently leading Bernard away from the confused man. “I’m so sorry, usually he’s really good at staying by my side.” Even in the midst of a distraction, but maybe Bernard was a sucker for a nice voice too. Plus, he could actually see what the man looked like.

“Oh, it’s fine, I just had some food so maybe he just smelled it on me.” He waves off the apologies, chuckling. Bernard woofs again and Steve’s laugh becomes a little wheezy.

“Dingus! Where’s the map??”

“I don't know Robin! Here, let me check, you just grab the water.”

Then, without so much as a goodbye, he was gone.

The woman, Robin, takes his place. “Here you go! I found a bowl, in case you’re both thirsty? Did I hear right, that his name is Bernard?” She chattered away, pressing the cold bottle into your hands along with a paper bowl.

“Thank you, and Mmhmm! Hey, you can pet him for a moment, if you want.” It wasn’t something you usually did, but she seemed sweet and was respectful of your No. Robin let’s out a small squeal of excitement before you hear her baby talking to the wiggling goldie. “Oh, you're so cute, oh my god. Such a good boy, working so hard, yeah??”

Bernard woofs, whining happily and Robin's giggles were just too infectious not to join in on. "Here, do you mind helping me with the water?" You ask, kneeling beside her and offering the bottle.

After the bowl was filled and Bernard was eagerly lapping at it, you take a grateful sip yourself.

"So, Monster Hunting?" Robin prompts after a moment, and you nod.

"Yeah, I heard a lot of stuff happened here. I was due for a vacation and I figured it'd be fun to look into it!" You explain, standing again. Robin snorts, and she's a blur as she shakes her head. "That's one way to spend a vacation."

"Fuck, I think I left it in my car." Steve’s footsteps come back out of the room.

"I can cover out here if you guys wanna go grab it." Robin offers, and you debate the offer. Follow a stranger to his car for a map to your Inn. Not that the map would do much, but it would at least give you something.

"Sure, come on Bern." You direct him with your leash and he falls back into Work Mode with ease. That, or he was eager to follow Steve out of the building. His lead tugged with his urgency.

"Here, uh, I think it's in the glove compartment?" Steve mutters, and you wait as he rustles around in the car. Though, suddenly he swears and there's a thump inside the car. "Whoa there bud-" He ducks out and you realize that Bernard had been inching closer.

"Bernard! Bad Dog!" You guide him away from Steve with a horrified gasp. "I am so, so sorry, he's never done that to someone before-" Bernard was a very friendly dog, but you trained him out of the sniffing thing early on. At least you thought you had.

"Its uh, it's fine! Dogs do that to me. He's just sayin' hello, yeah?" Bernard whines with apology and you try not to wilt at the sound. You rarely had to scold him, but it seems the new environment was a lot. "Still, I am so sorry."

Steve hands you the map and he tries to guide you to the Inn, but the mess of lines and colors was proving difficult.

"Its okay, I can ask for directions along the way." You offer, handing him the map. You've already taken enough of his time and you weren't excited for the next time Bernard decided to get friendly again.

"Are you sure? I mean, I could uh..drive you? It's not that far from the store and you aren't wrong about the heat."

You hesitate. You did need to check in soon and Bernard seemed to like him a lot. If there was anyone's opinion you trusted the most, it was your sweet puppy.

"Sure, yeah, thank you. I hope there's a way I can pay you back?" You asked, hearing the click of the door. You reached out a hand instinctively and he filled that space. The warm skin of his palm was soothing against yours and damn, his hands were big-

You slip into the car, placing your tingling hand in your lap in an effort to ignore it. The back door opened with a click and Bernard jumped into the backseat with a pleased bark. The sounds of him sniffing around were instant.

"You know," you admit with a giggle, "he's a friendly dog but he hasn't warmed up this quickly to someone before."

Steve let out that wheeze laugh again, hand tapping on the wheel. "He's a sweet dog, cares a lot about you." You hum in agreement, leaning your head back against the headrest and letting yourself rest for a moment.

"So…you said you were…monster hunting?"

“Yeah! I just think it’s really interesting. Really, it’s less hunting and just..seeing that they’re real, Y’know?”

“But isn’t that…dangerous?”

“I mean, sure, but I got Bern and…can I be a little honest?” You rub your palms along the fabric of your bottoms. “I don’t really expect to find anything. Part of this was just an excuse to get…away for a while. Work’s been…stressful lately and I dunno, I just wanted to do something different for a while.”

“Can I be honest?” Steve asks, and you nod. “Hawkins is kinda a weird place to run away to. Most people are hoping to get out.” You giggle, and Steve joins you.

“Do you? Want to leave?”

“…Not really? I mean, sure, I don’t want to be here everyday but…it’s my home.”

“So, you wanna stay but most people wanna leave?”

“It’s stupid, I know.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not stupid. It’s nice. Sounds like you really like it here.”

Steve hums and you want to ask more, but soon the car comes to a stop. You slip out, running your hands along the glossy interior, and locate the handle and let out your rambunctious pup. He jumps out, pressing his body against your leg with a happy bark. You pet the top of his head, grounding yourself in the familiar softness of his fur.

“Here we go! Hey, maybe.. I’ll see you around? Sometimes? Wait, shit, I mean-“

You giggle, shaking your head and turning towards the smooth voice. “I’ll see you around, Steve.” With a smile, you settle your backpack onto your shoulders, grab your cane and Bernard’s leash. “Thanks again, is there anything I can do? I have some cash?”

“Oh- No, hey, it’s fine, honestly this was a nice break for me. Getting to sit down and uh, drive you and this guy around was a highlight. Trust me.” Bernard barks and his tail wags against your leg before leaving your side and woofing even louder. The golden blob suddenly elongates, meshing with Steve and you have to let out another gasp. “Bernard, oh my god-“

But Steve was laughing, and damn, wasn’t that a nice sound? “Yeah, I liked meeting you too, Buddy.” He giggles and it’s not long before he ushers him back over to you. “Stay with your girl though, okay? Gotta protect her from monsters.” He chuckles, and your cheeks heat up again. “But seriously, stay safe, okay?”

With one final goodbye, you walk into the lobby with a sense of relief and maybe a small bit of longing. “Bern, what the fuck?” You mumble, giggling under your breath as you pet him again. “Was he really that handsome?” You tease and Bernard just lets out one of his happy whines, nudging your hand and licking your fingers. “I’d call you a smitten kitten, but I think you’d be offended.” He lets out an indignant woof and you laugh as you head up to the front desk.

Hawkins was nice, for the most part. The people were friendly and helped you get around if you got lost. Bernard was definitely popular, with many people eagerly greeting the two of you as you walked around. Beyond that, things unfortunately weren’t as action packed as you hoped. After all, you couldn’t just waltz up to the nearest resident and interview them about all the things they’ve seen. Not that many were that forthcoming in the first place.

So, you resorted to the library. The place didn’t have a lot of braille in the first place, figures, so the papers certainly didn’t. So you had to blow up the text to nearly three times its size, and even then you had to call the librarian over to tell you any words that weren’t clicking. At some point she ended up sitting with you and reading over the entire article, along with adding her own tidbits.

“Oh, that Munson boy. You know, when he was acquitted, I was relieved. He was always a sweet kid, even if he got a little too into his ‘metal music’ that I had to sush him.” She giggles and you tap the mugshot with your finger with interest. “You said he got hurt? From the quakes?”

“That or an animal got him, dear. Poor boy, he was in the hospital for months. The picket line outside the hospital certainly didn’t help either. His uncle had to be let back in through the back door, I heard. Or smuggled in when visiting hours were over.”

“Holy shit- Oh, wait, I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re absolutely right. Holy shit indeed, my dear.”

Looking back at the formless blob on the page, wonder if that’s all this was. Not a monster as in the bogey man, but the worse. A tangible monster, going around and murdering high schoolers and pinning the blame on some guy who sounded like the town was after him.

“You know dear,” The librarian mentions softly, “things haven’t really gotten better after the quakes, why, there’s been some sightings. That’s what you’re after, aren’t you?”

You perk up at this. “Sightings? Wait, like, monster sightings?”

“Mmhmm, but I’d be careful if I were you, pumpkin. This thing…well, it’s not one to be trifled with.”

It was one time, during one of these little study sessions, that a familiar voice rang out in the quiet library.

“Fifteen library books, Dustin? Fifteen late library books?”

“Are you really going to scold me for learning? For following where ever my journey of curiosity leads? My thirst for knowledge-“

“Henderson, Herrington, what a surprise! What brings you two here, not the fifty dollar fine, I hope?”

“Fifty Dollars? Oh, you little shit, I’m going to-“

You weren’t fast enough to catch Bernard’s leash. The Goldie barked, and you scrambled after the blonde mass of fur as he came barreling over to Steve and another person, a boy you guess given his voice.

“Bernard!”

“Fuck!”

The books come crashing down, heavy thumps pounding the ground. Steve’s increasingly familiar blob joined them, covered by a wiggling, excited Bernard.

“Steve! Dude, you dropped them-“ The boy cries, and Steve just groans.

Mortified, you firmly grip at Bernard’s lead. “Are you okay? Steve, I am so sorry-“ You reach out for him, gripping his hand and tugging the dazed man to his feet. “Fuck- Yeah, yeah, just startled, hey buddy-“

“Since when were you a dog magnet, oh, hi!” The boy, now placing the stack of books on the counter, greeted you with barely contained amusement. “Is that your dog? I didn’t know they let pets in here, that’s so cool-“

“Oh, no, he’s a service dog.” You were quick to interject, feeling for Bernard’s leash to make sure it was firmly in your hand. “He’s usually very well behaved, I’m so sorry. Are your books okay?” You reach out, wincing as you felt dents in the spines. “Here, let me just pay the fine, you said fifty?”

That caught Steve’s attention, the man quickly coming to your side. “No, no, you do not have to do that-“

“I mean, the books are pretty dented, Steve-“

“Dustin, I swear to god-“

“It’s fine!” You interject, pulling out your card and handing it over to the librarian. God, you were glad you couldn’t see her expression right now. “Fifty, then?” You press and the librarian finally lets out a laugh. “Yes. Usually I’d charge for the dents, but I’m fairly certain that was Mr. Henderson’s doing.”

“Wait, hey, I-“ There was a thump and Dustin let out an annoyed grunt. You pay the fine, silently mourning what could have been. Maybe a nice dinner at that Enzo’s place, or that cute top you felt at the store, or put into another training course for Bernard because apparently he needed a refresher.

With the freshly used card back in your bag, you turn towards the two with a heavy sigh. “God, I’m so sorry Steve, I swear Bernard isn’t like this-“ His warm hand lays heavy on your shoulder, and he squeezes gently. “It’s fine. Trust me, I’ve had worse.” He chuckles and you relax just a bit. Still mortified, but at least you made amends.

“You seriously didn’t need to pay his fine though, that’s his own doing-“

The exasperation makes you giggle. “Trying to teach your brother financial responsibility?” You guess and Dustin lets out a laugh loud enough to be shushed.

“Might I remind you three that this is a library, not a social circle?”

With renewed embarrassment, you run a hand over your face. “I’m so sorry Silvia. I’m done for today. I think I’ll just grab my cane and head out.”

“Here, do you..want some help?” Steve offers, and even though you could get back to your seat on your own, you decide to nod. Offering a hand, you tell him the section you were in and let him lead you back over there.

“He’s not my uh…brother, for the record.” Steve explains as the two of you walk. He smells nice up close, like the woods and a hint of hair spray. “Could have fooled me.” You tease and he chuckles. “He’s lucky he’s not, I’d be more annoyed about that fine if I was.”

“Fifteen late books is a bit excessive.”

“Exactly! Plus, those dents were not from the ground, they weren’t your fault I promise.”

You bite your lip and shake your head, hand reaching out for where you left your cane. “I didn’t…pay it for him. I uh…did it for you.” Was the AC broken all of a sudden or were you just perpetually warm around Steve and his nice voice and warm hands, and pretty laugh?

He clears his throat and let’s out a little laugh himself. “For…me?”

“I mean, I think my dog has basically fallen in love with you, so I think it’s only fair.” You admit, realizing he hasn’t let go of your hand even when you had your cane. You kind of didn’t want him to, either. “Seriously, he does that to no one. Not even me, so I mean, I think fifty dollars is a fair enough apology. Fifty dollars and a firm promise that he’s going back into training as soon as I get back home.”

Bernard whines at that and you roll your eyes. “I know, I’m breaking the biggest code about revealing your crush, but you literally ran over the man-“ You gently scold him and Steve giggles.

“I'm flattered, but it’s fine. Though…do you think you might want to go out sometime? Bernard’s handsome, but I’d like to just be friends.” He teases and you flush under the boldness.

“You sure? He has to come with me everywhere, I’d hate to make him a third wheel.” You joke and Bernard surprises you with his enthusiastic bark. Nudging your legs and inadvertently pressing you closer to the warm man next to you. “Seems like he doesn’t mind..” Steve’s low answer tickles your ears and you fold so quickly, it’s almost embarrassing.

“…Yeah, I’d like to hang out.” You admit and Steve hums, gently patting the small of your back with a hand as he leads you out of the library. “How about Enzo’s? I can pick you up tomorrow night?”

“Sure.”

—-

The date was going really well. Steve was sweet, attentive, but also mindful of your space and autonomy, which was the bare minimum but damn did some people not reach that. He was funny too, and you really liked making him laugh. Honestly, you loved listening to him talk, even if his topics tended to connect in ways you weren’t expecting, sometimes. You learn a few things about him. How he like sports, how he’s basically become the babysitter for Dustin and his group of friends, how he’s lived here his whole life.

“Wait, so were you here…?”

“During the uh..quakes? Yeah. It kinda divided the town, literally. Crazy.” He admits, tapping a spoon against his plate. “Still looking for monsters?” He asks and you chuckle.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen any. Just a bunch of newspapers and stuff. You guys have been through a lot.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve groans and you let the conversation shift to something else. You really liked Steve, and you figured you could ask him for more information later, if he wanted.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t tell you much during your hang outs after that. Just bits and pieces. The fire at Starcourt, the missing kid, the Lab getting exposed for government corruption. “Things have gotten better now though.” He insists before distracting you with a warm kiss on the temple, or the cheek, or even the mouth.

Yes, you were at that stage now. Honestly, it was easy kissing Steve in between conversations over diner milkshakes or watching a movie on his couch. It was easy to let your little mission go when his lips felt so good on your neck, sharp teeth gently scraping the flesh there to make you gasp.

After all, Steve was far more interesting. He basically lived alone, his parents often away on business. He loved dogs, or rather dogs loved him, which is apparently a new thing. He was dependable, loyal, and sweet. He got excited when you came around, often getting close to you and always keeping a hand on you at all times. He loved his friends, and thrived in social settings. He used to be on the swim team, but often just lets you use his pool whenever you want to swim. He just sort of sits by the edge, almost guarding over you like Bernard used to do as a puppy.

He had a small temper, but was good at controlling it. He was cheesy, and romantic, and maybe just a bit clingy which you honestly didn’t mind.

It was still so early in whatever this was, but it didn’t feel that way with Steve. It was like he just meshed into your life overnight. You didn’t want to think about what would happen when you traveled back home, so you just decided not to for now. After all, everybody deserved a summer fling if they wanted one, right?

So, yeah, Steve was someone to you now. His kisses were becoming familiar, his hands finding a home on your hips. You hadn’t gone that far yet, other than letting him feel along your breasts which pulled the hottest groan out of him. You would have let him take you right then and there on his couch after that, but the phone rang and Bernard whined for dinner. It ended up being a cuddle and make fun of B-horror movies night, which was just as nice.

He was protective too, and maybe it’d be overbearing if it wasn’t him. He keeps you close in new places, often leading you and Bernard around if you let him. Bernard follows him around all the time, barking and whining, and letting out all manner of sounds. Steve responded with interest, carrying the one sided conversation with ease. It was adorable, he was adorable.

——

You got set back onto your mission about a month into your stay at Hawkins. One night, you were awoken by a screech outside your Inn window. You were alone, except for Bernard who was sulking the whole day without Steve.

Steve had canceled your date earlier. His apology was so strained, and quick that you couldn’t even answer him before he hang up.

“I’m sorry Honey, came down with something. I’ll call you tomorrow though, okay? Stay safe.”

It sucked, but at least you were going to talk to him later. Plus, it meant you could research at the library and make some progress on learning about the horrors of Hawkins.

A different noise comes, a howling one. There was something off about it, like a mimic of a howl instead of a real one. Bernard doesn’t care though. He lifts his head, howling along with it and you’re quick to sush him. You were not looking forward to getting kicked out of the only Inn in Hawkins.

Bernard whines and you sigh. “Do you really need to pee right now?” He whines again and you slowly slip out of bed. You pull on some better clothes, gather Bernard’s leash and your cane, before leading him out of the tiny complex.

It’s a chilly evening in Hawkins. The end of summer is whispering on the horizon. You were going to have to go home soon. Away from Steve, away from the mysteries that you hadn’t solved.

There's rustling in the trees ahead of you. A heavy crunch of branches and a sudden screech that has you pulling Bernard close to your body. The forest was the only place you could bring him to pee, the receptionist having made that very clear when he saw your dog.

“Someone let their pet shit in the hallway, ma’m.” He explained and you sighed and went with it.

Bernard whines, and tugs at the leash, but it’s not away from the scary sounds. No, he wants to go towards them. “Bern, no. Look, I know we joked about monster hunting, but-“ He whines again and keeps tugging at the leash. There’s another whine out in the forest, and it’s painful. Like the creature is crying out for someone, anyone.

Bern tugs at the leash again and this time you follow at his side.

The forest was scary for a number of reasons. You tripped on leaves and twigs, branches whacked you in the face. Fuck, you stepped into a puddle and now your shoe was wet. Still, you both persisted. You trudged along the path, Bernard gently whining and barking until an answering whine greeted him.

“What the fuck is that, Bernard?” You gasp, following your puppy until the shadowy world seems to lighten around you. A clearing in the forest. There’s a shape in the middle of it. Chestnut brown against the emerald green and dull mud of the ground beneath your feet. You get closer and Bernard whines again.

The creature whines back, and you're struck with the fact that this was a dog. A very big dog. You approach slowly. “Oh my god.”

You kneel down in front of it, and the creature whines again. It shifts closer to you, soft fur caressing your palms as the big dog all but shifts his body into your arms, hands caressing the thick, brown fur.

“What the fuck-“ You mutter, and the creature tenses. It makes a move to lean away, but you're quick to gather it close again with a soft, “No, no, no, it’s okay. It’s alright-“

You rub your fingers along the top ofl his head. “Where’s your owner, buddy?” You coo and the dog just sighs. Pressing his large head into your chest with a tiny whine. You carefully run a hand along his body, tensing when you reach a leg and he flinches. Something wet and sticky glazes your fingers and you’re suddenly very grateful Bernard brought you out here.

“What happened to you, baby? Oh, you poor boy-“

A snap to your right freezes you. The dog in your arms tenses, and the dog at your side whines fearfully.

Suddenly the dog is on his feet, persistently nudging you to yours. He growls at you, and the rumbling should scare you, but it doesn’t. “Wait, I’m not leaving you here-“

The dog barks again and Bernard barks back. There’s a barking match, and you try to get a word in but they aren’t listening. There’s another crunch of branches, and another howl similar to the one that woke you up.

Suddenly the bigger dog stamps a foot on the ground with a heavy sigh, growling at Bernard before letting out a put upon whine. Bernard yips back, licks your hand amd then takes off down the pathway.

Without you.

What the hell.

“Bernard! Wait-!” You turn to run after your dog, but you aren’t sure where he’s even going.

Chestnut, the name you decided to give the injured dog because this was getting confusing, is quick to run into your hands. Nudging your stomach and pressing his fur into your fingers.

Let me help. You can almost hear him say as he rumbles. His fur bristles as the creature gets closer and closer to your spot. Let me get you out of here.

“Okay.” You grip into his thick fur, and Chestnut nudges you with his cold nose before tugging you along into the dense forest. You try to keep up with him, but your cane isn’t really doing much to help you right now. Chestnut seems to agree because he takes the cane between his teeth and whines apologetically when he takes it out of your hands. He then ducks down, swooping between your legs and lifting you onto his back in a motion so smooth, he must have done it before.

“Chestnut, dude!” You yelp, leaning forward and holding onto him for dear life. The dog tilts his head, whines in confusion, before racing away from the spot when the creature behind you cries out again.

Even with his injured leg, Chestnut is fast. The wind whips against your skin and deafens your ears. You close your eyes to protect them, burying your face in his fur which was a woodsy scent.

Breaking out from the woods, voices suddenly cut through the rushing air.

“Over here!”

“Shit! What happened?!”

“Where is it, is it after you?”

The voices meld into one and you try to answer, but that horrifying screech cuts you off. You bury your face into Chestnut’s fur while the others scream in surprise.

“Jesus H. Christ, I thought you killed all of them?!”

“Doesn’t matter, get out of the way!”

Gun shots rang out over your head and you bury yourself deeper into Chestnut’s fur. He’s quick to run away from the fire, coming to stop a ways away before depositing you against a wall and handing over your cane. Not wanting to be alone, you reach for him but he barks. Ducking away and whining apologetically.

Before you could panic, a new bark sounds beside you. Bernard whines, pressing into your leg and you all but collapse into him. “Bern!” You sob, pulling him close to you while he licks your face and whines apologetically.

War rages just a ways away from you two. Guns shot through the night, growls and screeches made your ears ache. You held Bernard close to your chest, face buried in his matted fur as the battle raged on.

"El, now!"

There was a cry, a human one this time. A grotesque ripping and shredding followed along with a ghastly cry of pain until all grew quiet.

You slowly lift your head from your dog's fur, tears pooling in your eyes while you try not to whimper. Whatever that was, you were grateful you couldn't see it.

Soft, thudding footsteps came closer to you and Bernard. The irony scent of blood hit your nose and you sighed in relief as Chestnut gently woofed. Nuzzling your cheek with a whine, you lean into him.

"Thanks Chestnut, thanks for saving us." You murmur, scratching under his chin. He makes a rumble in his throat, nose brushing your cheek.

"Chestnut? But that's s-" The voice was cut off with a grunt as more footsteps came closer.

“Are you okay?” Another voice asked, this one actually pretty familiar.

“Robin?!”

The woman chuckles nervously as she crouches down beside you. “Hey. Bernard came to my door and led me here, thank god we made it in time.”

“Bernard- Wait, what? Bernard went to come find you?” You sat up, immensely confused as more voices overlapped. In the time between running from the monster and getting out of the forest, your boy had rounded up a collection of Pre-teens, Robin, and…the chief of police?!

“That’s one smart dog of yours.” Hopper’s gruff voice broke out amongst the gaggle of teens. “Wouldn’t stop barking till I got my ass out of bed.”

Bernard barks proudly, tail thumping with glee as he’s flooded with praise. You rub at his back, also just as proud but…confused. Very confused. How did he know? Your dog was smart, but even so, how?

Chestnut nuzzles into your chest and whines, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Oh my god, your leg- We need to get him to a vet!” You shift, but Chestnut makes a discontented noise. Somehow you knew it was a protest as he shook his head against your stomach. “You’re bleeding, you aren’t fine.” You insist, nudging at him despite how big and heavy he was.

There’s a snickering until another voice cuts through. This one is unfamiliar. “She’s right *Chestnut*, that’s one fucked up bite you got there.” He teases and the younger party breaks out in a few giggles, mainly between the boys. Chestnut barks at them and you run your hands along his soft fur.

“I’m sorry! It’s just his hair looks like chestnuts and I didn’t want to keep calling him ‘The dog’ and-“

“Well yeah, that’s a wolf in your hands, Sweetheart.” The voice coos, stepping closer. The figure was wearing a ton of black, and the jingle of chains registers in your ears. Chestnut gives a warning growl at the man, and he chuckles. “Sorry, sorry. Name’s Eddie, and he’s gonna be okay. He’s already starting to heal, see? Touch the wound.”

You brush a hand over the once bitten flesh, gasping as all you felt was a scab forming. “Wait, how, what-“

“You gonna tell her, or do I?” Eddie asks, but his voice is directed to the comfortable dog, no, wolf in your lap. Chestnut sighs, letting out a small huff of an answer before slowly rising from your body. He walks away, and you sit there for a second. “Tell me what, where’s he going?”

“Just give him a minute, he kinda needs to get decent. You almost done over there man?”

“You try putting on pants over a wound, Munson!”

…..

“Steve?!”

————

—

#thebunspeaks #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things hc #steve stranger things #blind!reader #disabled!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x disabled! reader #werewolf!steve #steve harrington x you #I really hope ya’ll like this one!

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m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months

Text

Pomegranate Ink: XXV

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: A veil comes down in Shibuya, with tragic consequences.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 9.8k

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

A/N: ok i’m ngl i doubt this is what you all are expecting when it comes to shibuya pomegranate ink version but oh well it does what it needs to for narrative purposes. sorry

“The situation is definitely strange,” you said, using one of the needles you hadn’t cursed yet to clean under your nails. “I mean, what reason would there be to put a curtain down on Shibuya?”

“I don’t know,” Tullia said. “A part of me is worried, because this is so out of the ordinary, but at the same time, can you believe it? This is my first mission since my promotion!”

Ever since your classmates had heard that you and Todo had recommended them for Grade 1 status, they had been over the moon about it. Maki, especially, had been close to tears when she heard the news, hugging you tightly and thanking you over and over again for it. You had assured all of them that you really believed they deserved it and weren’t just doing it because they were your friends, and from that moment onwards they had been showing off in front of you, like they wanted to prove that they were worthy of the designation.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t count towards one of your supervised missions. I’m the one who gave you your initial recommendation, so I can’t give you another one, you see,” you said. Tullia shrugged.

“It’s okay. I’ve missed working with you, so it’s not a big deal! It’ll be just like old times,” she said. You wiped off the needle and then cursed it before putting it away with the rest of them, making sure the pouch was securely closed and then setting it in your pocket where it usually stayed.

“Hopefully, Gojo’s able to take care of it and we don’t have to do anything. As much as I’d love to go on a mission with you again, I don’t know if I like the situation here. If I had my way, we’d be somewhere else, doing nothing,” you said.

“Can you detect something with your cursed signature detection?” she said. You shook your head.

“Not with that veil in the way. I’m sure if we go in, I’ll be hit with it all at once,” you said.

When a mysterious veil had fallen over Shibuya station, several sorcerers had been called to the scene. There were five teams that you could think of off the top of your head, though you knew there were a couple of other, unrelated sorcerers also around: one consisted of Naobito, Maki, and Nobara, another was Nanami, Megumi, and Ino, a third was Mei Mei, her brother Ui Ui, and Itadori, the fourth was Kusakabe and Panda, and the final team was you and Tullia. However, all of you were meant to be on standby — Gojo was the one who would go in and take care of things. He was strong enough to do whatever it took, so you weren’t worried.

“Oh, so you’re just generally having a bad feeling,” Tullia said.

“Aren’t you?” you said. “This whole thing isn’t right, especially since Mechamaru was revealed to be a traitor. There’s something going on, and I don’t doubt that those disaster curses have something to do with it.”

“It’s Gojo, though. Do you really think he’ll have any issues, even if he is fighting those things?” she said.

“That’s actually very fair,” you said. “You’re right, I’m worrying about nothing. Sorry to bring down the mood.”

“Not at all. I’d be surprised if you weren’t worried; after all, our team is just the two of us, so if we have to go in, then we only have each other to trust,” she said.

“There’s no one I’d rather have by my side,” you said. It made sense that you and she were assigned together once again; she was the reason you could use Composition, so there was no better place for her than with you. Besides, your techniques worked well together, as you specialized in ranged attacks and she was stronger in close combat, making you effective at fighting alongside one another.

“When will we know to go inside?” Tullia said. “I don’t want us to be late or anything.”

“I’m sure one of the assistant managers will let us know,” you promised. As if you had summoned them just by speaking, your phone rang. When you looked at the caller ID, it showed Ijichi’s contact, his picture the selfie you had taken of the two of you when he had dropped you off on your first official mission as a Grade 1 sorcerer proper.

“It’s time now,” he said briskly, hanging up before you could even say anything. You didn’t blame him; he had to pass on the same message to the others, and there was no time for politeness in such high-stakes situations. Instead, you put your phone away and turned back to Tullia.

“Ijichi says it’s time. Are you ready?” you said. She patted herself down.

“Tetrodotoxin, cyanide, good old bleach, arsenic, and — look what Gojo got for me to celebrate my promotion!” she said, pulling out a glimmering glass bottle. “Botulinum toxin! It’s the stuff they use for botox, but apparently in large doses it’s one of the most poisonous biological substances known. This is definitely going to be good.”

You grimaced. “Please keep that close to you at all times. It’ll kill anyone else that comes in contact with it.”

“I know, I know. I’m very responsible with my poisons, both because some of them are massively expensive and because they’re so dangerous to other people,” Tullia said. “Do you have everything?”

“I’ve cursed all of my needles,” you said. “That’s all I can do.”

“Let’s get going, then. We shouldn’t waste time,” she said.

“Wait. Tullia, you’re sure about this? I’m a Grade 1 sorcerer, so I have to go, but you’re just a student. You can stay back if you want,” you said. “I always ask so much of you, and you always put me first. You can decide not to this time. I won’t be mad.”

She waved you off. “I’m a Semi-Grade 1 now, so I need to start doing this kind of thing more regularly anyways. Come on, if Ijichi told you to come inside the veil then there’s probably a real reason he did so, so we shouldn’t dawdle.”

“Okay. See you on the other side,” you said.

“See you on the other side, Y/N,” she said.

Then, before you could hesitate further or second guess yourselves, you stepped into the veil, leaving the outside world behind, taking that leap into the unknown without looking back — because you were sorcerers, and that was what sorcerers did.

Almost before you had even finished entering the veil, you were bowled over by the immensely malevolent presences lurking in the area. The concentration of curses was greater than you had ever experienced, even greater than it had been during the Night Parade, or maybe it wasn’t that there were more curses but rather that those which were present were on a different level entirely.

And that familiar presence. It was only because Tullia was there and things were so similar to what they had been last Christmas Eve, but you realized where you knew that cursed signature from.

“Suguru Geto?” you muttered.

“Hm? Did you say something, Y/N?” Tullia said. You thought about telling her what you had just figured out, but there wasn’t a point, at least not until you had more information confirming it. Though you didn��t think you were mistaken, there had to be some other explanation for the familiarity of the residuals beyond a dead man walking once more.

“Never mind,” you said. “Now, what should we—”

“Nanami! Y/N! Gojo’s been sealed! Did you hear me? Nanami! Y/N! Gojo has been sealed!”

It was Itadori’s voice which interrupted your thoughts, his screams echoing from somewhere far away. You looked at Tullia for confirmation, but it was evident that she had heard him too, judging by her blown pupils and the panicked set to her mouth.

“Gojo’s been what?” she whispered.

“Sealed?” you said. “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

Gojo was Gojo. He was your teacher. He was more than that, actually, he was like a part of your family. Your whole family, even. He was the man that had saved you from your previous life and taught you how to be strong. He was strong; he was strength itself, personified. So what did it mean for him to be sealed? How did that compute?

“It’s probably temporary,” Tullia said. “Right?”

You swallowed, shaking your head to clear it. This wasn’t the time for thoughts like this. You were in charge of both yours and Tullia’s wellbeing at the moment, and you were in an incredibly volatile area. You had to set aside your emotions and focus on the logic of what was happening.

“I don’t know how it’s happened, but yes, that’s correct. No method of permanent sealing exists, so if the curses have managed to seal Gojo, then we can definitely undo it. We just have to find him and get him out of their grasp,” you said.

“That should be our priority, then, yes?” she prompted. You were grateful to her for the steady guidance, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to go on if you didn’t have her cheery self with you. It was not just her cursed energy that was so vital to your operation; her optimism managed to counteract your occasionally more pessimistic outlook, ensuring that you could think clearly even when you just wanted to wallow in despair.

“Yes. We’ll have to be careful, because if these curses were capable of sealing even Gojo, then who knows what else they can do? There’s no doubt that Mount Fuji and the plant curse will be here, as well as the patchwork curse that Itadori and Nanami had to fight, plus whatever other allies they have. Whatever happens next, it’s going to be difficult,” you said.

“When is it not?” Tullia said rhetorically.

“This time is different, though. This time, it doesn’t matter if we risk death. We have to keep going. We cannot win if we don’t have Gojo, so we must be prepared to give up anything and everything if it means saving him,” you said.

“Okay,” she said. “Where should we go first?”

“The station,” you said. “That’s where I detect the most signatures gathered together, so it’s a sure bet that he’s there, too.”

“Lead the way,” she said, downing an entire bottle of arsenic and then tossing it to the side, following after you as you raced towards the station at top speed, taking the stairs two at a time until you reached a tiled room which seemed to be devoid of anyone. Skidding to a stop, you motioned for Tullia to do the same.

“It looks empty,” you said. “But someone’s here. Be on your guard; whoever it is, they’re powerful.”

When you thought about it, this signature, too, was one you recognized. There was a hot, angry edge to it, pulsing with rage and fire as it stalked around the room in search of something to explode at. It was none other than the volcano-head you had met at the restaurant the other day, but for some reason, he was staying concealed for the moment. It was only a matter of time before he picked up on yours and Tullia’s presence in the room, though, and then you were definitely in trouble, so you put your finger on your lips and jerked your head towards the stairwell, indicating for Tullia to follow your lead. If you could just sneak out before he noticed you…

“You’re not the person I wanted to see, but I suppose you’re good enough for the moment, Y/N L/N,” the aged voice of the curse rang out as flames burst in the stairway, trapping you in the room with the curse as he rounded a corner and revealed himself, looking as grotesque as he had the day you had met the first time.

“Mount Fuji,” you greeted tersely. “You never told me your real name, so I hope you’re alright with me calling you that.”

“It’s Jogo!” the curse screeched, steam pouring out of his ears. “My name is Jogo, and don’t you ever refer to me in such a demeaning way again!”

The heat from the fire Jogo had set in the stairwell was so high that it was making your skin burn from just the proximity to it, so reluctantly, you took a step forward, away from the fire but consequently closer to the curse.

“Fine, Jogo. What have you and your lot done to Gojo?” you said, brandishing a needle and holding it in front of you protectively. It was more a placebo than anything; you doubted a single needle would be enough to take out this curse, unless you were able to use Dissection and aim at one of the weak spots that would then be made apparent.

“Satoru Gojo? We sealed him in a prison realm. Who’s going to save you now, huh?” he said, leering at you with blackened teeth, smoke belching from the crater atop his head.

A prison realm. Well, that type of thing was probably the only reliable way to deal with someone like Gojo, but it made rescuing him a lot more painful for you. Even if you managed to obtain the realm in which Gojo was contained, you’d have to then figure out how to unseal him, and then you’d have to hope that the manner in which you went about doing that was something that you could actually manage to accomplish.

“We’ll get him back,” you said. “Don’t think that we won’t.”

“Not if I kill you here and now,” Jogo said, flames dancing at his fingertips when he spoke. You spun your needle between your fingers, a new nervous habit you had picked up on recently.

“It doesn’t matter if you do. Even if Tullia and I are gone, someone will get to him. If it’s not us, then it’ll be one of the others. I don’t have to be the hero who saves him. As long as he’s saved,” you said. “So go on. Do your worst, if that’s what you’re set on doing. But just remember that by killing me, you are forfeiting any chance of Sukuna coming to your aid.”

It was a bluff. You had come to this conclusion while you were talking: you did not want to die. Maybe it made you a coward, but you didn’t want to get hurt. You didn’t want anyone you cared about to be injured. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want your friends to die. But your words were true in one way: it didn’t matter if you did die, in the end, even if you were scared to. You were not the one who would turn the tides of this battle.

Except there was something only you could do. Something that Sukuna needed you for. This was where your importance came from. That was why they wanted you. It wasn’t because you were strong. It wasn’t because you were a particularly talented sorcerer. It was because for some reason, the King of Curses had decided you were a person he could not kill.

Lava bubbled over the rim of the volcano on Jogo’s head, dripping down his forehead like sweat, his eye glazing over as the flames in the staircase grew to an all-time high. You grabbed Tullia’s hand and squeezed it, trying to communicate without words what you wanted to say. He’s angry. He doesn’t care. Get ready.

Discreetly, she took out another bottle of arsenic and drank it. You thought that it was just about time for the botulinum toxin, but it wasn’t your cursed technique, so you wouldn’t presume to dictate to her what she should and shouldn’t be ingesting at any given moment.

“You’re right,” Jogo said. “I can’t kill you, at least not until we awaken Sukuna and figure out what, exactly, he wants from you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you in the meantime, does it? Yes, that sounds like a good plan. I’m sure Sukuna will be pleased to see you burnt beyond the point of recognition, anyways; after all, I’ve heard that he harbors no love for you.”

You had no response to this. You had picked up on the intense hatred Sukuna had for you, too — it seeped out of his very being, so potent it took on a life of its own, like every cell in Sukuna’s body had its own equivalent dedicated solely to despising you, that vitriol braided into every fiber of his being. Jogo was likely correct; as long as you were still alive, Sukuna would probably delight at seeing you in pain.

“What do we do?” Tulla said under her breath as Jogo began to cackle.

“We fight, and we win,” you said.

“That’s it?” she said.

“Always is,” you said wryly. She scoffed.

“Do we just go improv?” she said.

“I have no idea what his abilities are, so we’re going to have to,” you said. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anything,” she said.

“And I trust you, so it’ll be fine. We can do this,” you said. “Just follow my lead, and I’ll follow yours. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said.

“I forgot!” Jogo said, clapping his hands together. “There’s nothing stopping me from killing her!”

He pointed at Tullia, and out of nowhere, large wasps manifested behind him, buzzing and dancing through the air towards her. You threw your needles at them, and though some made contact, there were so many in the swarm that it didn’t matter. Although Tullia tried to dodge and avoid them, it was futile — they followed her every step of the way, Jogo watching her keenly, watching how her feet slid against the freshly-washed tiles, and how she struggled to swat the insects away.

You took advantage of the moment to use Dissection on him, identifying his weak spots while you had the chance to. His eye, the volcano on his head, his jaw, and the nape of his neck glowed green, and you did not hesitate to fling a needle at him, aiming for the largest target: the volcano.

Right when the needle was about to strike, a chasm opened in the ground below him, spewing flames that melted the needle into a useless heap of metal at his feet. At the same time, in unison, the wasps emitted a piercing sound, surrounding Tullia, covering her entire body and then detonating, smoke and flame and ash billowing up in clouds around her.

“No!” you screamed, physically feeling the loss in your stomach. Tullia’s cursed energy, which you had grown accustomed to always being connected with yours, was suddenly gone, leaving you barren and empty. It made your movements unsure, your mind foggy as you tried to compensate for what had just been stolen from you.

Jogo took advantage of the moment to wrap one searing palm around your bicep, burning the flesh away with a smug grin on his face. You kicked and wailed, trying to pull free, but he held fast. You used your free hand to pull out a needle and stab it into his hand, but it was like you were suffering from a withdrawal or a hangover. You had grown so adapted to Tullia’s cursed energy that without it, you were nothing. You couldn’t do anything. You had been healing and fighting when you were only supposed to do one, and now that you didn’t have a buffer there to deal with the repercussions of it, you were facing them all at once.

“Let go of me!” you sobbed. Purple blood streamed from Jogo’s hand as you dragged the needle through his wrist, and he growled at you, upping his temperature so that this needle, too, evaporated into nothingness.

“I don’t think so,” he hissed. “You’ve been an impertinent little bitch, and even though I can’t kill you, I’m going to make you wish you were dead.”

“She said to let go!” a familiar voice said, and suddenly a fist was ramming into Jogo’s head, knocking him back and sending him flying across the room. He slammed into a wall, and cursed energy flared through your body once more. “Use Composition on your arm before you lose it, quickly! I’ll be fine, I’ve had enough poison that you could probably heal an entire army and I’d be alright.”

“Tullia?” you said. “How did you—?”

“As soon as I saw him using fire, I dosed up on arsenic,” she said as you took a tiny bit of her energy to heal your arm, which Jogo had burnt to the bone. The flesh and muscle regenerated around it, not even a scar left due to the perfection of Composition as a Reverse Cursed Technique. “It’s fire resistant, so I was able to survive the insects’ initial onslaught. It’s not a permanent solution, but it worked in a pinch. Now come on and get your head in the game; you’re a Grade 1 sorcerer, for crying out loud!”

Her clothes were tattered and singed, her hair uneven and choppy, entire chunks missing from where it had crumbled away entirely. Her face and body were covered in burns, but burns could be healed, hair could be regrown, and clothes could be changed. She was alive, and that was what was important.

“Right,” you said. “I’ve been doing a bad job at showing that, haven’t I? Okay, listen, his weak spots are the volcano, the eye, the nape of his neck, and his jaw. He’s been melting the needles I throw at him, though, so I’ve been out of luck in trying to fight him because of that.”

“I guess you could say he’s too hot to handle,” she said with a snicker before composing herself. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, still reeling at her death and then at the fact that she wasn’t dead at all. She took another drink of arsenic, giving you a firm nod.

“I can probably go hand to hand and aim for those weak spots, but I doubt I’m strong enough to do any significant damage, and I don’t have Sukuna’s protection the way you do,” she said.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” you said. “I’m going to do it myself. You just have to protect me. Distract him when he starts to hurt me again, and I’ll hit him before he can even think about killing you.”

This time, you did not even wait for Jogo to attack first. You went on the offensive, Tullia staying close enough to you that Jogo did not dare send a wide-ranging attack towards her for fear of catching you in the crossfire. You tossed out a handful of needles to serve as a distraction, but like all the others, they liquefied once they got within an arms’ length of Jogo.

Volcanic openings appeared in the ground in front of you as you ran, spitting out lava at random. There was no time to think as you leapt and swerved — you were acting purely on instinct, each footfall nothing more than guesswork. The wrong one meant death. The right one meant survival. But who could tell which was which? The ends of your sleeves caught on fire at one point, and you had to beat them against your side in order to put them out, but even then you could not pause, not when you were so close, not when there was no escape, not when this confrontation could only end in one of two ways: your death or his.

You reached him first, punching him in the jaw. Without the specific refinement and cursed energy of your needles, it didn’t exorcise him instantly, and anyways he was a special grade, so one hit wouldn’t have been enough to do the job regardless, but it did cause him pain. You could tell because he groaned at the contact, and his mouth hinged open for a moment, hanging there as he breathed fire at you, more steam pouring out from his ears when he did. You ducked out of the way of the blast, and before he could redirect his attack, Tullia kicked him in the back of the head. You rolled to your feet in the meanwhile, digging your fingers into his neck, gouging into it, his flesh and blood stuck under your nails when you pulled away to backhand him and then flip over the volcano that opened beneath your feet.

You continued like that, the three of you settling into a rhythm of sorts. You would strike, and then Tullia would attack before Jogo could turn his ire upon you. Then, right when he was about to retaliate against Tullia, you would lash out once more. He was at a definite disadvantage, not because of skill but because he could not kill you. You knew for a fact that if it were not for Sukuna’s threat weighing on his mind, he would’ve annihilated you already. But he could not, not if he ever wanted to be successful in his eventual goals, and you and Tullia abused that fact, pummeling him without care, dodging whatever he sent your way — or sometimes not even that. You could not count the amount of times that one of you burst into flames, barely managing to put it out in time to keep fighting.

There was a kind of clarity that you felt in that moment. You were no longer Y/N L/N. You were no longer anyone. And neither was Tullia; she wasn’t a person but an extension of yourself, as you were an extension of her, as you were both two halves of a greater whole and Jogo was the unspoken third which you could not exist without. Dissection and Composition and the burning body in between you. The healer and the empty glass and the fire-like-wine which filled you. There would be no one to fight without him. There would be no one to heal without him. That was the truth of sorcerers and curses: you both could not exist without one another, like a cyclical, self-contained plague. Who would you kill if not your counterpart? It was in your nature. You were born to fight Jogo, as Jogo was born to fight you. And if not him, if not you, then another, and another, and another, until one side could possibly win — if a victory which led to erasure could be considered as such.

If there were no curses, there would be no sorcerers. If there were no sorcerers, there would be no curses. There was no curse theory or scientific backing to support this thought. It was just something you knew in that instant, as you fought Jogo. It was one of those things you felt, a truth that resounded in your bones as surely as the fire which danced along your skin every time Jogo counterattacked.

You were beating him. He was weak now, but still frenzied, still overtaken by the rush of the fight, adrenaline and arrogance overtaking his reason, his higher-order thinking. It shouldn’t have been this simple, but for that one precious second, you allowed yourself to believe it. You allowed yourself to believe that maybe you and Tullia had really done it, that you had managed to exorcise a special grade of this magnitude. You allowed yourself to believe that you could move on and return to seeking out Gojo now.

“Domain Expansion,” Jogo gasped out, raising his hands, not to attack but for another purpose entirely. He must’ve given up on not wanting to kill you. He must’ve realized that there was this other way that he could wipe you out without having to worry about you anymore.

“Tullia!” you shouted desperately, shoving at her, trying to push her away with all your strength, no longer worrying about Jogo. “Tullia, run! You have to run!”

It was too late. She gazed at you, and you could see in her eyes that she knew what was happening, that she understood it was too late for her to escape, just like it was too late for you. As a mountain began to form around you, she embraced you, pressing her cheek to yours, her lips to your ear.

“Until the end, we keep fighting,” she said. “Even if we’re in his Domain, we keep fighting. Right? We’ll weaken him enough that maybe — maybe one of the others can do it, can get rid of him for good.”

Your voice cracked when you spoke. “Yes.”

“Thank you for being my friend,” she said.

“Thank you for being mine,” you said.

“Coffin of the Iron Mountain!” Jogo declared, rejuvenated by the power of the Doman Expansion, even though by all rights it should’ve drained him further. As the Domain completed, you and Tullia found yourselves standing inside of an enormous volcano, rocks crashing down and lava bubbling in the corners.

“Hold on a second. You said that that curse could perform a Domain Expansion. What if it pulls that out? Does she have any counter to that?” Nanami said. “If she doesn’t, then it’s totally irresponsible of you to send her. Even more irresponsible than I ever thought you’d be.”

“Um,” Gojo said. “Y/N? Do you have a counter for that?”

“Wow, Gojo,” you said. “I can’t believe you didn’t think of that. Thank you for the concern, Nanami, sir, but as the case may be, I actually do have something I can use if things come to it, so I’ll be alright.”

You had learnt it from Noritoshi. He himself had never had the strength to accomplish it, but he had talked to you about it one day, back before you had even come to the school. He was the academic type, and he had studied the theory so carefully that he managed to explain that secret of the Big Three clans to you in the simplest way. He had been so skilled at explaining it to you, in fact, that you had managed to replicate it before even he could, much to his chagrin.

He had still been proud of you, vowing to work just as hard so that he could do it, too. The way that the Big Three clans countered Domain Expansions, even when they weren’t strong enough to lay out one of their own: you were the only outsider that had the knowledge, and even then it was only because you would one day be a Kamo. Though you generally detested the clans, you supposed you had them to thank for this one thing, for the reason why Jogo’s Domain did not immediately kill you.

“Falling Blossom Emotion,” you said, a layer of cursed energy creeping over you and shielding you from the flames and rocks of the volcanic Domain. Thus protected, you shifted to take stock of Tullia, knowing that unlike you, she didn’t have a defense against the sure-hit effect of the Domain.

Fire was licking up her legs and arms, but she was alive, determination sparkling in her eyes. The arsenic was probably the only reason she hadn’t completely burnt away yet, but you both knew that that would not last forever.

“You have a way to protect yourself?” she said.

“I do!” you said.

“Good!” she said.

“The arsenic seems to be protecting you for now. We just need to weaken him enough that he can’t maintain his Domain before it wears off, and then I can use Composition to heal you before we keep going,” you said.

“Let’s get a move on, then,” she said. “I can’t die quite yet, you know. I still have to tell someone that I love them.”

Together, stride for stride, heartbeat for heartbeat, the two of you did the exact opposite thing you were supposed to do when in a Domain: you sprinted towards the caster. The Lord of the Iron Mountain, the volcanic curse Jogo, that damned creature which you should’ve been fleeing from, but instead of doing that, you ran right towards him, you needles guiding the way, the air shimmering from the heat, the fire slowly overtaking Tullia’s body, her lower lip trembling from the effort of holding her screams in.

“You dare to challenge me in my own Domain?” Jogo shouted. “I will crush you like the insects you are! Let it always be remembered who the true humans are!”

He truly had forgotten about Sukuna, or maybe he no longer cared. The latter seemed unlikely, though; more accurately, he was probably so caught up with the rush of the battle that everything came second to the tantalizing prospect of winning.

Rocks came crashing down in huge landslides. They slid off the cursed energy of Falling Blossom Emotion without touching you, which meant that Tullia bore the brunt of it, raising her charred forearms to protect herself from the volley — but they just kept coming, in larger and larger quantities and sizes. But still, you kept going, kept running, because what else was there to do but that? What else was there to do but run?

“Y/N,” Tullia called out from behind you. “You have to be the one to do it! Keep going. Ignore whatever happens to me, okay? You can’t shut down again, because you are the one that has to do it!”

“Wait,” you said as a boulder twice even Todo’s size pinned her legs to the ground. “Wait, no, that’s not right!”

“Go,” she said. “If you don’t forget about me, he wins! Keep going!”

Elakshi was sitting by herself on a bench, slicing an apple and eating it as she went. You sat across from her, waiting for her to speak. She had been the one to suggest the meeting time and spot, so you thought it was only fair for her to say something first, but she waited until after her entire apple was finished to talk.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” she said. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” you said, bemused at how intently she had been eating the apple, to the point that she had not noticed nor cared that you were there, too. “I think we both want to talk about the same thing.”

“Your weakness?” she guessed, using a napkin to wipe the juice off of her knife. “That’s what I’m here to tell you about, even though my classmates would be furious if they knew.”

“Do you think so?” you said.

“We have one more year of exchange events against each other, don’t we? I’m just making it harder for myself if I tell you this. That’s part of the fun to me, though, and besides you’re the one that saved me, so at minimum I owe you for that time,” she said.

“You don’t owe me. I was just doing my job,” you said. “I’d appreciate it if you told me what you and Noritoshi figured out, though.”

“Love,” she said, getting straight to the point. You almost jumped at the directness with which she now spoke. “That’s your weakness.”

“My weakness…is love? I don’t see how that works,” you said.

“Call it love, or empathy, or what have you. It’s all the same concept: we can hurt you the best by hurting your friends, the people you care about. That’s when you get distracted. That’s when you give up. You have a heart that bleeds for others, the kind of heart that’s always wanting to help someone else, but not everyone in the world deserves to be helped, and sometimes, you have to abandon your friends for the greater good,” she said.

“Huh? Why would I do that? What good is there in abandoning the people I care about?” you said. She wrinkled her nose.

“There it is again. That’s the reason why you threw yourself in front of that branch for Maki Zenin. That’s the reason I knew you’d fall for my bluff and try to heal me, even though no normal sorcerer would ever care that much about their opponent. There is no version of you that doesn’t jump before that branch, just as there is no version of you that doesn’t stop to use Composition on me,” she said.

“Of course not,” you said. “You’re my friend, and I care about you. And Maki is Maki. All I knew at that moment was that I could not let her die.”

Elakshi considered this. “Your emotions, your love for others, makes it impossible for you to see the big picture. You saved Maki in the moment, but you took yourself — a Grade 1 sorcerer — out of the fight, therefore putting everyone else at risk. You healed me in the moment, but you left yourself and Tullia vulnerable to my retaliation. I admire you, and this definitely isn’t me saying that you aren’t strong or something, but if you ever want to work past this, then you have to come to terms with the fact that there will be times when you can’t protect someone.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m meant to be a healer after all,” you said. “I’m so used to trying to save everyone that I end up saving no one.”

“I’ve been in a lot of hospitals in my time,” Elakshi said. “Can I tell you something I’ve learned? Even the best doctors can’t save everyone. In truth, I doubt anyone can.”

You had to leave Tullia behind. You had to exorcise this curse here and now, and to do that, you had to leave her to what very well could be her death. You had to keep going, had to keep running, and when you reached Jogo, you would have to kill him. There was no way around it. That was simply what you had to do.

You reached him and stabbed a needle into his throat before he could even think to melt it. He uppercutted you in return, and then it became the most lethal sparring match you had ever been in, every movement a brush with death, every second weakening you and strengthening him. Now that you were in his Domain, the roles had reversed. You could not keep up, and furthermore, Tullia’s energy was waning. She was dying, actively dying, and it did not just have a mental effect on you but a physical one, too: without those extra reserves to boost you, you grew exhausted at an exponentially faster rate.

Finally, Jogo reached for you, and you were not quite quick enough to avoid it. He grabbed your neck and squeezed, lifting you in the air and laughing as you kicked your legs and slapped at his hand in an attempt to free yourself.

“It’s time, Y/N L/N,” he said. “I’m going to set you on fire. I’m going to burn your memory into this world, so that you are remembered for years to come. Sukuna will be pleased with that, don’t you think?”

What did you even do now? How could you escape this? What could you even do? Your needles were useless against Jogo’s heat. Your only ally was almost dead. Your cursed technique wouldn’t do much good, either, as you already knew his weak spots — it was hitting them that was the issue.

There had to be a way. What was something only you could do? What was something that only Grade 1 sorcerer, Y/N L/N could do?

Peace settled over you as you understood, in that moment, the way that you could defeat Jogo. As Jogo readied himself to set you on fire, you strengthened Falling Blossom Emotion to defend yourself and then smiled, knowing that you could not care for the consequences of your actions, knowing that you could not hesitate or this really would be the end for you.

“Tullia!” you shouted with what little air you had left, praying that she’d hear you. “One last time. Nothing after this matters, so one last time, please let me take your strength from you!”

In response, your cursed energy lit up from the force of hers, as brilliant as the sun at midnight. The botulinum toxin, she must’ve had just enough power left in her body to drink it all at once, not knowing what you needed it for but having enough faith in you to go along with what you said anyways.

“Give it up, girl,” Jogo spat, the volcano on his head pouring out even more lava as you glared at him, Falling Blossom Emotion the only reason you hadn’t combusted yet. “That defensive technique of yours is about to fail, and then you will be nothing more than ashes. Why prolong your misery? You can’t do anything to me that matters.”

“I am Y/N L/N,” you said. “I am the girl who brought someone back to life. I can do anything. Composition!”

You clamped your hands down around his wrist, ignoring how your palms were burning from his body heat and holding them steady, using your Reverse Cursed Technique on him. It was an old factoid you remembered Ieri mentioning to you once, that Reverse Cursed Techniques were actually destructive to curses instead of beneficial, and you bet everything you had, everything Tullia had, on that being true.

Amongst all other Reverse Cursed Techniques, Composition reigned supreme, mostly because of its eponymous ability: the one which allowed its users to compose instead of just join. Maybe that was the reason it was so effective against Jogo, or maybe it was because of Tullia’s botulinum toxin fuelling you, or maybe you were really just that strong. Likely it was a combination of all these factors, but the reasoning behind it didn’t matter as much as the result did.

Almost as soon as you activated Composition, Jogo’s entire arm disintegrated. You thudded to the ground, the burns on your neck and palms throbbing with pain as you scrambled to your feet once again, resting your hands on his shoulders, pressing them into his skin. Your insides curled at the scent of your own flesh igniting, but this time, you did not falter, staring into his eye with the insane delight that came from the newfound mastery. His earlier vicious conceit had been replaced by naked fear, and this time, it was your turn to laugh at him.

“Composition,” you whispered, so quietly that he had to lean in to hear you. “Composition. Composition.”

Every single bit of energy Tullia had lent you, you poured into using your Reverse Cursed Technique on Jogo, watching as it ate away at his body, eyes glowing with the reflection of the fiery mountain of his Domain until he regained his composure enough to break free from you, canceling his Domain Expansion and stumbling towards the staircase.

You weren’t sure if he’d make it or not. You weren’t sure if you had used Composition long enough that he had reached the point of no return, or if he’d be able to regenerate again. You weren’t sure about any of that, but either way, there was nothing you could do about it anymore. You had used every last drop of cursed energy that both you and Tullia shared on him already. You couldn’t do anything now; you just had to leave it up to the rest of your friends, hoping that one of them found him before he regained enough strength to become a threat once more.

Crawling over to where Tullia’s body lay, you gathered her in your arms, listening for her heartbeat. It was there when you pressed your ear to her chest, faint but existent, even though her legs were a mangled mess of blood and tissue, her face and arms burnt beyond belief, dried bloodstains like tear tracks running down her cheeks and nose, a puddle formed from where it had dripped from her ears and mouth.

You hadn’t been careful enough. While fighting Jogo, you hadn’t considered how it would impact Tullia. You hadn’t considered anything bar the thought that you could not let him get away. Tullia, who had already endured so much, had been put through even more because of your carelessness, but she was alive. You had beaten Jogo back quickly enough that she had not vanished entirely in the desolation of his Domain.

There was no cursed energy boosting you when you picked her up. Your muscles and legs threatened to give out with every step, but this was your penance, your way of making up for what you had done to her, for how you had destroyed her as thoroughly as Jogo had.

“Y/N.” Her voice was weak and thin, barely more than a whisper.

“Shh, don’t talk. It’ll only make you worse. I’m taking you to where Ieri and my family members are stationed. They’ll heal you, and you’ll be okay,” you said.

“I don’t think Ieri can heal this,” she said.

“Of course she can’t. But my father, or one of my cousins, any of my family members, really, they’ll all be there and they can use Composition, so they can do it. It’ll be okay, so just be quiet and wait until we get there, alright? I know how much you like to talk, so please promise me you’ll be silent until we reach them,” you said. Your legs were howling as you dragged the two of you through what remained of Shibuya, the eerie silence of what should’ve been a bustling place.

“It’s Halloween,” Tullia observed. “I wish we had just gone trick or treating.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” you said, exasperated. “But you’re right, we would’ve been much better off if we had done that.”

“I had so many cute costume ideas,” she said. “Made a whole Pinterest board and everything.”

“We can do it tomorrow,” you said. “Once we’ve unsealed Gojo and he’s gotten rid of everything and everyone, we can all go trick or treating together.”

“That sounds nice,” she said. “I’d really like that.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I would, too.”

You almost collapsed by the time you reached where the healers were located, thankfully without running into any other curses or curse users. Even though your cursed energy was gone, your senses were still attuned to others’ signatures, and you were able to hide away whenever anyone ran past. That was probably the only reason you made it safely, and even then you barely did. Surviving for so long with zero reserves of cursed energy and no one to heal you, and then physically exerting yourself by carrying Tullia so far, all but wiped you out. It was only by sheer will that you made it to where your family stood, your father barking out orders to your cousins so that they were deployed effectively.

“Father,” you said. The entire ward went silent as they took in your appearance. Your family members, the people that had watched you grow up, the ones who still in the back of their minds thought of you as a delicate flower, a beautiful failure, looked at you, and you wondered what they saw.

You were covered in ash like fine dust, Tullia’s blood smeared all over you just because of your proximity to her. Your neck and palms were burnt, your collar and one of your sleeves nothing more than blackened threads. You were littered with bruises and scratches from where Jogo had made contact with you, and to top it all off, you carried a body in your arms. You didn’t look very much like a girl raised to be a silent lady. To them, you probably didn’t look very much like a L/N at all.

“Y/N,” your father said coolly. You set Tullia down on a free bed and then crossed the room, falling into his embrace. He was stiff, but he held you, and though he was not your mother, though he was not Gojo, he was close enough. He was still your father.

“I know — Naobito told me you chose not to come to the exchange event,” you said, clinging to his shirt, the smell of his cologne so familiar, reminding you of your childhood. “Why? Why didn’t you come for me?”

“You should sit down,” your father said, guiding you to a chair and pushing you down. You did not resist, looking up at him beseechingly.

“You’re here now, though, right? You’re going to heal Tullia, right?” you said. Your father glanced over his shoulder at her, and he did not even go over to inspect her before he shook his head.

“She’s beyond saving. We can’t do much for her anymore,” he said.

“What?” you said, scrambling to your feet, ignoring his protests. “What do you mean? She’s not beyond saving! I could do it if I had the energy!”

“Yes, you probably could,” he said. “You’re a prodigy with Composition, remember? The rest of us aren’t like that. The rest of us can’t do it. So why don’t you heal her yourself?”

“I can’t, either,” you said. “Not right now. I used up the last of my energy fighting one of the special grade disaster curses. She gave me all of hers so that I could win, but that leaves us in this situation.”

“I see,” your father said. You wrinkled the fabric of his pressed shirt in your hands, leaving dirty smudges on the pristine, starched white. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“You don’t have to heal her all of the way. Just a little bit. Just give her enough energy that I can do it. That’s possible, isn’t it?” you said.

“That’s correct. Even the youngest of your cousins could accomplish that much,” he said. Still, nobody moved.

“Well? Get on with it, then! She’ll die if we don’t hurry up,” you said.

“No,” your father said. You froze, cocking your head. Had you heard him incorrectly?

“...no?” you repeated.

“It’s the same reason the L/Ns didn’t come to the exchange event,” he said. “You claimed that you are not one of us. You chose fighting instead of healing. I warned you that there would be a consequence to that decision, and this is what it is. You fought, and now you cannot save a person that you love.”

“Yet you can!” you said. “I understand what you’re doing. You’re deserting me in the hopes that I come back, that I choose to be a healer instead of fighting on the front lines. But, father, I can’t — I can’t heal without her! If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. I’ll never fight again, I’ll spend the rest of my life in Noritoshi’s shadow or three paces behind Naoya or whatever else you want from me, but please. You have to save her. Just do this one thing for me, and I will go back to being the daughter you want.”

“None of the L/Ns will lay a finger on her,” he decreed. “Do you understand? This is what happens when people don’t accept their roles in the natural order of things. You tried to rebel against the place you were given, and now Tullia will pay the price.”

“No,” you said, tears brimming in your eyes. “Punish me. I’m the one who did something wrong, so punish me for it if you must, but leave her out of it. Please leave her out of it. She didn’t do anything. She saved me, father, she’s saved me so many times that I can’t count it. She is my Composition. I cannot use it without her. You have to save her.”

“If you cannot use Composition without her, then perhaps you are not meant to use it at all. No one can have both. Dissection or Composition; didn’t I tell you that you’d have to pick? You made your choice. I made mine,” he said.

“None of you?” you said, looking at all of your family members. The younger ones turned away in shame, while the older ones held your accusing look levelly. “Not one of you will go against him and save her?”

The only response you got was a lingering, resounding silence. The people that had raised you were turning their backs on you. You understood their message: you were no longer one of them. You were not a healer; you were a fighter. You had chosen your path. They had chosen theirs.

“Get rid of the girl’s body,” your father said. “She’s taking up space. We don’t know when the next injured sorcerer will arrive, especially since I just received word that Sukuna’s manifested.”

“I’ll take her,” you said. “But you will all regret this. I swear to you, I will make sure that you do.”

“Where are you going with her?” your father said. You held Tullia, taking comfort in only the fact that her pulse was shallow but steady, that she was still breathing, though she had long ago gone unconscious.

“If you won’t save her,” you said coldly. “Then I will find someone else who will.”

“There is no one else that can save her,” your father said.

“Actually, there is,” you said. “One person. There is one other person who can do it.”

Your father’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean—”

“I do,” you said.

“Y/N, think this over,” your father said. “He won’t help you.”

“Well,” you said. “It seems that neither will you.”

You were probably the only person in Shibuya that hoped he hadn’t vanished yet. You were probably the only person in the entire world that was actually happy to see him, happy to see those black marks still curled over the face which resembled Itadori’s so greatly. Because it wasn’t Itadori’s, this was as plain as day — even if the markings vanished, you’d still be able to tell the difference between your cheerful underclassman and the King of Curses.

“Sukuna!” you called out. He turned from where he was crouching by Megumi’s side, the expression on his face transforming from rage at your impertinence to rage at simply your being. No, he could not kill you, but it was hard to remember that in his presence, hard to remember that he still needed you for something.

“Y/N L/N,” he said, the name like poison on his tongue, ostensibly because it was a reminder of his first defeat, the time that he had lost to another woman of the same name. “How can you be so bold as to show your face here?”

“I know what you want from me,” you said, putting Tullia down and kneeling before him. Shock flashed across his irises, and his hands twitched, but he did not otherwise react.

“Is that so?” he said. “And what is it that I want from you?”

“A body,” you said. “Right?”

It was while you were using Composition on Jogo that you understood it. You were the only person in the world that could utilize the Reverse Cursed Technique to the extent that you did, so that had to have something to do with what Sukuna wanted from you. But what could a being capable of using his own Reverse Cursed Technique, even on other people, want from that? It was specific to Composition, that was clear.

“A body,” Sukuna said.

“You’ve manifested in a vessel that fights you every step of the way, but by using Composition, I can take someone else and alter them into being exactly the carrier you want,” you said. “Isn’t that correct? That’s why I can’t die yet. There isn’t anyone else in the world who has such potential with Composition, who will eventually have the power to heal someone’s body into another, more evolved form entirely.”

Sukuna was silent. You bowed your head, knowing that what you were offering was foolish and selfish, that you were all but spelling the world’s destruction with this, that in essence you were aiding the King of Curses, the most evil creature in the world. You were telling a monster you’d give him what he wanted, for the sole sake of saving one person.

“Please heal her,” you said. “I’ll give you what you want. I will compose the perfect body for you. If you don’t believe me, then I’ll even make a Binding Vow. Just — just please save her. I can’t do it without her.”

A deal with the devil. The world for your friend. Elakshi was right; maybe love was your greatest weakness. Maybe you shouldn’t ever try to save anyone. But you had to at least save Tullia, who had always saved you, and this was the only way you could do it. Your family had forsaken you. Your reserves of cursed energy were gone and would probably take days to recover back to even their base level. Only Sukuna was left.

“Just as I expected, you don’t know the slightest thing, Y/N L/N,” Sukuna said. Involuntarily, you raised your head and met his eyes, which were as red as the sky before a storm. He grinned at you, his teeth unnaturally sharp like demon-fangs. “I already have the body which I require, so I don’t need to make that kind of contract, with you or anyone else. Besides, how can you expect me to heal that girl?”

“What? What do you mean?” you said. As you watched, invisible slashes cut through Tullia’s body, thousands upon thousands of them so that her remains did not even resemble a person anymore, so that she was nothing more than a fallen heap of blood and cloth and poison sitting before you.

“As you can see, she’s already dead,” he said, and then he burst into a fit of deep, full laughter. You screamed in horror at the sight, something shattering in the back of your mind, in the corners of your soul — the link to Tullia’s energy, which you had come to depend on, was gone forever, and this time, it wasn’t coming back. Nobody could heal her now. There wasn’t even a her anymore, just scattered pieces of what had once been one of your best friends.

You couldn’t help yourself. You threw up, convulsing from the strain, your very body rejecting what had just happened. She shouldn’t have died. You should’ve saved her. There should’ve been some way, some manner in which she could’ve lived. When there was nothing left in your stomach, you dry heaved until you couldn’t breathe, and then blackness crept into the corners of your vision.

The last thing you felt before you passed out entirely was a taloned hand grabbing onto the back of your neck and the familiar sensation of teleportation. You were dimly aware of being thrown beside someone else, and then there were shouts — Ieri? Your father? You didn’t know — and then there was nothing. Blissful, calm, blank nothing.

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

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little-engineer-who-cant · 5 days

Text

The ramifications of Cassie Sandsmark

Part 10 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(also posted under cut)

Note: Cassie herself does not have much of a presence in this story. This is about the implications of her existence and how her presence affects those who lived through the Titan War.

“Tell me father, which do you ask forgiveness for: what I am or what I am not? Tell me mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn’t?”

- thoughts of a stray iii (m.a.w)

He finally goes to one of those stupid charity galas Bruce always throws. Dick’s pestered him so much, Jason’s been to enough dinners where he’s subject to subtle hints, sad eyes and pointed looks from his various other-

(Oh, please, do go on.)

The others are nothing. Dick is his only sibling. Dick’s pestered him enough that Jason’s finally given in to his requests to come to at least one gala.

“Are you sure about this?” Silena asks him for the first time in two hours but it feels like the millionth for how many times he’s asked himself the same question.

(Sounds like you have your answer then.)

(Yeah, I do.)

“I am,” he replies, hand curling in a tight fist around the gear shift. The plastic creaks. “I… Maybe you can find something. Out. About. Um. Yeah.”

“Jason.” Their fingers slot together over the knob before she pulls his grip away from damaging the car and onto the leather-covered console instead. He’s transfixed by the small scars on her knuckles, nearly invisible but he knows what to look for. What to look beyond. No one else will know a thing. “I know you hate it. You don’t need to bring me.”

“You’ll go out anyway.” Her measured inhale, the start of a calm argument, confirms it. “Can I ask that, just for tonight, you hunt where I can see you?”

“Will it help you more if I hunt or if I back you up?” He tips his head back on the headrest, swearing under his breath.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I don’t want any more eyes on you. I don’t want… anyone else to find you.”

“Jason,” she squeezes his fingers, he looks over. She’s beautiful in the blinding flare of the setting sun, heavy eyes and drawn lips and resigned shoulders. “Love. They’ll find me eventually.”

“I know.” It’s not in his power to keep her a secret. Hasn’t been since he ran to her, since he revealed… Everything.

“If we know they’re coming…”

“We can better prepare.” He still can’t let her go, can’t open the door and let this world in, let it touch her.

(Kill her.)

He swears again, vicious words breaking free until she stifles them with a finger over his lips.

“I’ve hidden for a long time,” she decides for them both, and he loves her for it because he can’t. “But the world’s spun on. Show me.”

“It left me behind too,” he reminds her. But he’s opening the door, stepping out and so is she, smiling brightly over the top of the flashy sports car.

“Then let’s rediscover it?” He loves her, he swears by every god in the privacy of his heart, letting it flow over his being and into her. Framed in sunlight with the jewels in her ears and around her neck shining bright, she gleams like cut crystal as she glides over to him. The slight pull of the scar on her cheek begs him to press his lips to her, to taste the proof of her reality. “I’m braver when you’re beside me.”

“Let’s be brave together then,” he gives into the impulse, kissing just below her eye, on the teardrop he knows is burned into her skin. Her lips brush the J on his skull, the spider web across his temple.

“We fit in at least,” Silena whispers as they leave the car and climb the stairs, squeezing his hand tight. He can feel the tremble in her as eyes turn their way, the people dotted across the front lawn and entry gardens taking note of strange faces in rich clothes and fine jewels. Their eyes linger on the royal blue of her flowing skirts, the streak of white in his hair, the way their fingers knotted together screams mine.

It’s only her shaking hand in his that keeps him from fleeing as the doors open on a fancy ballroom, away from all this false glitz and glamor and back out into the cesspool city. Only her equally nervous presence among these hordes of wealthy liars swarming around them and his promise to Dick, who is nowhere to be seen.

Jason leads them to the bar. Those fancy flutes of champagne aren't either of their style.

The eyes make him nervous. Everyone seems to be staring. Of course they are, Silena is beautiful, bright and magnificent on his arm, looking like she belongs among the painstakingly carved Master statues dotting the room. He cleans up well enough.

The bartender takes Silena’s order. Then his.

Shoes shiny enough to be mirrors tap nervously, his jaw tensing and clicking before he forces out another breath to relax, only to wind himself back up again. There’s nothing Silena can do about it but temper his agitated appearance with her own calm and benign one.

Her drink comes first. His hands twitch for lack of anything to do.

It’s been a year, at least, since they walked in the door.

“Maybe you could help me?” she asks him softly, looking up through her lashes as his head whips to her.

“Help you with what?” he bites out but she can clearly taste that the annoyed anger is not aimed at her so she blows out a breath and lets it go. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she soothes, running a hand down his arm and his heart flutters a bit. “But I am a bit lost. Perhaps you can point out some people for me?”

His drink arrives. He drains half of it. Stops. Breathes. Follows her tug away from the bar and towards a potted fern that’s relatively unoccupied.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, but there’s a defeated edge to it. Pointing people out, analyzing the situation under the guise of helping her navigate it, it will take the worst edges off his strain. She can make very educated guesses as to who these people are, but that doesn’t help Jason at all so she’ll play ignorant for his sake.

Bruce hasn’t shown himself.

“Start by pointing out Bruce’s horde,” she suggests. “So I know when they start showing up on my doorstep.”

“Okay,” Jason takes a deep breath. “Over there, with the blonde hair, that’s Stephanie…”

—

“That’s Connor Kent.” Jason points at the dark haired teenager talking to Tim and looking distinctly uncomfortable in the fancy environment.

“Ah. And who’s she?” She nods to the cute blonde girl hovering by Tim and the newly identified Connor.

“That’s Cassie Sandsmark.” Abruptly, Jason looks uncomfortable. Silena tilts her head at him. “I…” he blows out a hard breath, then slumps against the door-frame they’ve taken refuge in, “it completely slipped my mind or I would have said something sooner. She’s one of Tim’s friends, so I steer clear but…”

“Spit it out, Jason.”

“... She’s a daughter of Zeus.” Silena’s heart freezes in her chest.

“What.”

“I… Yeah.” The confirmation, the lack of arguing, the lack of… anything, it cuts her to the core, spills her intestines out across this fine ball except she’s all cinched into her lovely silks, blood stained and shining like a diamond.

Panicking.

“How old is she?” The girl looks to be older, too old- if she was born after the war, she’d be barely out of diapers. You know what this means.

“What?”

“How old is she?” Jason blinks at her like he’s never seen her before. Maybe he hasn’t. She can’t remember ever being this angry since she’s met him. Defeated? Yes. Resigned? Yes. Wildly trying to hold her life together with both desperate hands? Absolutely yes. But this rage? This she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“... Sixteen? Seventeen? Right around Tim I think.”

“I have to go.”

“Silena-” She doesn’t wait, she can’t be here. I can’t see her . She can’t see this child, she’s a child, you can’t blame her, it’s not her fault-

But she’s everything we could have had.

Acknowledgement. Openness. Freedom. She fights in the open, with heroes she can call on if something goes wrong. Not scurrying around street corners, praying a hungry monster doesn’t find you for lunch and with nowhere to go but the next ditch big enough to hide in, no one to call, no way to call without getting caught. Not bleeding out on concrete and screaming for a parent who won’t answer.

“Hello?” Dick Grayson is in front of her, blinking in confusion, then his eyes flick up to where Jason is undoubtedly barging his way after her, if he gets to me I’ll spill my guts and he’ll do something rash, I have to leave- “I’m sorry, you must be-”

“Give me a five minute head start?” she bargains sweetly, the words sticking to the inside of her mouth like thick honey, coating the air in sickeningly pink spun sugar, making him blink heavily before he smiles widely and pats her shoulder.

“Of course. Explain why later?”

“Thank you.” If she ever sees this brother again, she’ll lie and he’ll believe her. That’s the way of things.

“Better get moving,” he scoots out of her way, putting his body between her and her pursuer, your sacrifice will be remembered. “Jason! Buddy!”

She gets farther than she expected, sees the light at the end of the tunnel in the form of a side door, damn, maybe I will give Dick a few grains of truth, when it all goes to hell. Jason is too damned perceptive and adaptive and he knows her too well, gods damn it all why am I seeing a vigilante? She has to be at the top of her game to lose him and unfortunately, that means she loses focus on everything else pretty fucking quick.

That means she runs straight into the object of her ire. Right into Cassie Sandsmark.

“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” I can’t do this. “You’re new, are you Jason’s girlfriend that Tim told me about? I’ve been hoping to meet you. Everyone has, they talk about you so much!” I can’t do this. “Right! Where are my manners? Hi, my name’s Cassie,” the girl sticks out her hand, beaming at Silena who swallows around bile and her own, gut searing hate.

“Anna.” That’s who she is to this city, always will be but to a certain few. Silena Beauregard is dead to the world. Just like so many others but here you fucking are-

“Nice to meet you Anna, are you enjoying the party?”

“I was just about to leave, actually.” Lying is like breathing, she is a child she’s not to blame. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Get some rest and feel better?” Jason is getting close, having finally shaken Dick, his face a terrible mix of thunderousfuriousconcernedscared and she has to go or she’s going to turn into a blubbering mess in the middle of this fancy gala, screaming for justice from beings that don’t care anyways right in front of the girl who’s entire existence is a slap in the face to so many dead children.

“I will, thank you.” And she fucking books it.

—

Thalia picks up on the first ring, thank the gods.

“I can’t talk for long.”

“It’s Silena.” Giving her the option to just hang up right out the gate, to take the guilt off Silena’s own shoulders. If Thalia brushes her off, she won’t call back. Their truce only extends as far as wounded Hunters in the wrong place at the worst time.

“... Why did you call me?” This is not one of those times.

“I…” Do you have to give her this pain? “This was a mistake, I’m sorry-”

“Silena, wait.” There’s a long moment of silence between them, separated by caverns of miles and loyalties and morals. Cinched together by blood, and there’s nowhere else to go- “Why did you call?”

“Wonder Girl,” she whispers, this is a mistake. “I…”

“What about her?”

“Never mind, I shouldn’t say-”

“Silena.”

“... She’s a kid, Thalia. None of us should hate her but…” Silena buries her head in her hands, yanking at handfuls of her hair just to feel the grounding pain in her scalp. “I had to leave, I couldn’t stay.”

“What does this have to do with why you called me?”

“She’s a daughter of Zeus and she’s sixteen.” Silence. Utter silence. She stares at the charred ground where she's burned dozens of other demigods, ones far less powerful than the girl running around at the gala now without a fear in the world. Dozens who had been hunted, mangled, chewed up and spit back out only to be kicked down to Hades without so much as a by-your-leave. “I’m sor-”

“Thank you for telling me,” Thalia’s voice is a raw whisper through the already crackling speaker.

Click.

Silena pulls the phone from her ear. Probably for the best, she’s pushed her luck far enough already. She’s not that far from Gotham, nor is she that insane. Zeus had one fucking job and he had to fuck it up twice?

There’s a rustle behind her. You didn’t get away fast enough.

“How much did you hear?” Only his perfectly shined dress shoes are visible in her left peripheral, coming to a silent stop next to her, both of them staring at the burned ground. It’s an olive branch.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to use a phone?”

“Hm.”

“Silena.”

“This is where I burn them,” she admits, curling around herself. “The ones who don’t make it. A shroud, two drachma and prayers to see them down to Hades.” She’s losing her battle with tears. “I… She’s a child, it’s not her fault. But… she’ll never know. She’s been so safe and she doesn’t even know it. How…” shoving her face into her knees, she loses the war against her enraged despair completely. “How am I supposed to look at her, knowing Thalia? Knowing Nico? Percy? Knowing what I did? And Zeus just went out and broke his oath again with no regards and she’s sixteen, Jason! Thalia will never be sixteen! Nico lost seventy years because Zeus was so fucking afraid of Hades that he wanted to kill Nico! Bianca lost those same seventy years for nothing because now she’s dead! And Percy had to give Luke the knife that Luke used to take his own life and he lives with that-” her body is shaking uncontrollably, but she can’t stop, this has built up for too long. Throwing her head backwards, she glares up at the hidden stars her mother, her enemy, lives among and screams- “We were all children, why was she the one that was spared?!”

The silence is an answer in itself.

“Why her?” she whispers, knowing he doesn’t have an answer and never will. There is no answer. Not really. “Why her?”

—

“What would life have been like?” Clarisse tips her head back, staring at where the stars would have been if Gotham wasn’t covered in a large veil of light pollution. “To just,” she snaps her fingers, “turn it all off?”

“Normal.” Silena grinds her chin deeper into her forearms. “Gods…”

“They’re the ones that got us into this mess, cupcake.”

“Shut up.” But it’s half-hearted at best. Clarisse chuckles, her hip pressing into Silena’s shoulder in a familiar streak of warmth.

“Do we tell her?” That’s the million dollar question. Do we tell her? Tell her what exactly? Tell her about the horrors she’d missed? About the sister who gave up normality to prevent a prophecy that never even touched Cassie? About the piles of bodies left the wake of godly ambitions, the piles yet to come?

“I don’t know. On one hand, she should know she’s not alone, that there are a bunch of us out there. But on the other…”

“She’s missed all this shit. We shouldn’t drag her in just because we’re jealous.” Jealous. That’s the one word Silena’s been avoiding and Clarisse threw it out like it was no big deal. Jealous.

Because that’s just it, isn’t it? She’s jealous that Cassie Sandsmark has gotten this far relatively scot-free. That there’s a large chance the girl doesn’t wake up at stupid o’clock every night, body tight and breathing quick, soaked in sweat and biting back screams. Clawing at her own face, straining in vain to see from a useless eye.

“I used to wonder why Mom hated me,” Silena admits quietly. Clarisse exhales. “When I got to camp. Why didn't she love me enough to make sure the monsters never found me? Why couldn’t I live with my normal family? Mom had to hate me, because if she didn’t, then I could go home without something trying to eat my little brother when we went for a walk. But I figured out that all the gods hate their children, don’t they? In some way, they all hate us eventually. Because we fail. We’re mortal. We’re not perfect. They put us up to impossible tasks again and again until we fail.” Clarisse’s hand trembles as she runs it through Silena’s hair. “But I think…” Silena swallows around the realization she stumbled across far too young, “our worst sin is that we’re not them.”

Clarisse slides to the grating, sitting down next to where Silena is slumped and leans their temples together. Neither of them speak again, two jealous daughters of unsatisfied gods offering each other empty comfort. What else is there to say?

—

“You mean to tell me,” her knuckles are white where they’re clenched in her lap, out of Tim Drake’s sight, “that Zeus gave her mother the ability to turn her powers off?” Jason left with Dick to do something likely illegal and to keep her away from at least one curious Bat. Otherwise, she might let her trigger happy boyfriend drop-kick a child and that impulse was not something she wanted to examine right now.

Not when she has to entertain someone who broke into her apartment on behalf of a friend she wants to stab a little more than this particular interloper. Which is also not an impulse she’s particularly fond of examining.

“Yeah,” Tim nods as he takes another deep gulp of the black-as-night coffee that she keeps stocked for her revolving door of child soldiers running on fumes. If Tim bitches that she only keeps Jason’s preferred brand and uses a drip pot instead of a French press like Dick did not even two hours ago, she might lose what little of her shit she has left. “It was a whole thing, right? Like they lied to her all her life, but they’re cool now.”

“Cool now,” she mumbles, feeling the skin of her palms give under the pressure of her newly filled acrylic nails. She smiles as vacantly as she is able through clenched teeth. “I’ve just never heard of something like that before.”

“I don’t think demigoddesses are exactly around every corner, do you?” he grins at her and she smirks back like they’re sharing a joke instead of it being on him. “And daughters of Zeus at that.” It takes every bit of five years of you’re a spy discipline for the red in her vision to recede enough that she can actually see that Tim has sobered again. “She’s had a rough go of it,” he continues quietly, swirling his coffee, “with everyone having lied to her, even Diana. But she’s doing better.”

“That’s good.” I have never hated another human so much without knowing them and this is a fucking child, it is not her fault, you know that it’s not her fault, get a hold of yourself you insane woman-

“And I was talking to her and she says she’s sorry for whatever she did that made you run away from her?” She can’t fix that. “She swears she won’t hurt anyone, she has control of her powers.” Her nails pop out of her palms. There’s blood, she can feel it drip, drip, dripping all over her hands. Where it belongs.

“I’m not worried that she’ll hurt me.” Hero or not, the girl would be hard pressed to go against Silena, who can hamstring her with a few words. Cassie’s powers are the least harmful thing about her. “I was having a rough night.” Smiling, Silena weaves a tale like she has so many times before and Tim is none the wiser, “and I really wasn’t making a good impression. For that, I apologize to everyone involved.”

“Have you apologized to Jason? He seemed really worried.” Whatever detente Bruce’s two wards have come to, it’s clearly only a ceasefire on Jason’s end. Likely for Dick’s sake. But what does it mean to Tim? Obviously more, by the way he’s expressing concern for Jason. It’s sweet, if not a little bit sad. There will always be a barrier between them, Silena knows, and it’s a barrier that Bruce put there.

“He was the first person I talked to.” There wasn’t a need for an apology. Jason had just held her as she cried in the graveyard. Jason had carried her home and refused to leave her side. He’d been the one to call Clarisse.

“That’s good. He really seems to like you. Talked to Dick about you a lot. Enough that Dick mentioned you to us. We’ve all been wanting to meet you. And he brought you to the gala, so he really likes you.”

“Hm.” I know. She can taste his love and she knows Jason knows she can too. He doesn’t hide it. “I like him too.” There’s a lot more than like there. If she wasn’t so sure that Aphrodite would take it as an insult that Silena even got a drip of happiness, she’d do her damndest to keep him. You already are, come what may.

If a drop of water can keep a man from dying, this sliver of happiness might be what saves her soul.

“I can tell,” Tim takes another sip of coffee, like that will hide the goofy little grin he’s trying to smother. “Dick said you’re the first, um, normal person who’s been around? Shit, that sounds bad, but like I mean it like you’re not a superhero- Ah, I’m bungling this-”

“I get it, I get it.” And she does understand the sentiment, even if it’s not wholly correct. To everyone on the outside, she’s a simple office worker who caught the Red Hood’s eye enough for him to let her near. The Red Hood himself, however, knows the truth is very different and that’s why he’s letting her get so close to other heroes.

“Are you ever afraid?” Tim asks.

“Hm?”

“Of what might happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, how the Joker might come after you?” Kronos had me in his maw. “That you might get hurt?” I’m blind in one eye and have scars to prove I survived the impossible. “That someone might, I don’t know, turn on you to get to Jason?” I turned on people I loved and they died for it.

“No.” She’s done all that and more already. “No. I’ll take whatever comes and I’ll face it as best I can. I’m not going to live in a shadow of fear.”

“You’re braver than a lot of people.” She shrugs.

“I’m alive,” she replies simply, “and sometimes those two are the same thing.”

“Huh,” Tim chuckles, taking a very deep drag of coffee. “Philosophical. No wonder you and Jason get along.” She smiles again, wiping her bloody palm discreetly on a napkin before taking a sip of her own tea. Swallows down peppermint and a million secrets next to Tim’s butterscotch curiosity. “Will you tell me what his favorite book is? I’m looking for Christmas ideas and I really want to get on his good side. All things considered,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “I know it’s not like my fault but I still feel bad for, I dunno, usurping him? Even if he was dead. And I know he’s still mad, so I was thinking I’d get him something really nice? Like a first edition of a book or a signed copy or something? I don’t know, do you have any better ideas?”

“I think…” Silena tilts her head at Tim and makes a mental note to talk to Jason about what exactly had happened between them later. “You’re at a good starting point. And he doesn’t have a good collection of the classics anymore. I’d recommend The Odyssey.” Tim nods, clearly thinking hard. “But, if you really want to do something extraordinary,” he perks up as she grins over the rim of her mug. “I think his old collection is still at the Manor and he hasn’t managed to sneak all of it out yet.”

#silena beauregard #jason todd #clarisse la rue #cassie sandsmark #thalia grace #tim drake #dick grayson #batman #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing #ao3 link

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thatlovinfeelin · 2 years

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Flightless Bird | one | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw X OC

Synopsis: Josephine Wilson Miller is alone for the first time in her life. She got married after her first year of college and became a housewife, but that life is gone now. So she runs to San Diego, to her childhood best friend Jake, where she meets the man who could very well be her salvation.

A/N: The short first part to the beginning of what will hopefully be a long series. No Rooster in this first part, mainly just setting up the relationship with Hangman and Jose. Hopefully you guys will enjoy it as much as I already am.

“Well shit,” The young girl hissed, holding several pieces of paper in her hand, “Damnit.”

She looked up at everyone running around her in the airport, slipping by her as if she was nothing but a leaf in the breeze. She felt like nothing other than a leaf, blowing aimlessly with no control over her destination. Even on her shaky legs, she found her way to a nearby bench before she pulled out her phone.

“Okay,” She blew out a breath, “Okay, you can do this.”

She glanced at one of the papers and started to type the number into her phone. Her hands were shaking so badly she had to try a few times before getting the right numbers in. Her body ached and her stomach turned. She wasn’t even sure if she had anything left in her body to throw up, but she felt like she was going to start heaving again.

After a few more minutes of trying to force herself to press the call button, she finally managed it, slowly bringing the phone to her ear. Her body shook like she could break into sobs at any moment, truth was she might.

“Hello?” a female voice rang out from the other end of the phone.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry. I’m looking for Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Do I- do I have the right number?”

“Oh, yeah sorry, one second.”

There was some white noise from the other end, followed by quiet voices, “Hey, wake up. You have a phone call.”

“What? Who’s calling this early when we have leave?” He was obviously asleep two seconds earlier, voice thick and groggy.

“I don’t know, some girl.”

“I promise I know nothing about-”

“I’m not worried, Bagman. Take the phone, I’ll order room service.”

She heard a long sigh, before the sound of the man clearing his throat. Suddenly she was even more nervous, yet somehow strangely calm. Because she knew he would make sure she was okay, he would take care of her and protect her like he always had before.

“Hello?” His old southern draw wasn’t nearly as thick as it once was, but the sound of it still brought her peace.

“Well, hello Jakey Poo, it’s been a long while, hasn’t it?” She forced herself to sound normal, even if she was ready to break.

“Jose? What’s going on, why are you calling?”

“I need you to come get me, Jakey. Please.”

She could almost imagine him sitting straight up in the bed, flinging the covers off at the sound of that. He was undoubtedly ready to spring into action, just like he always was. She wanted to cry, she wanted him to hold her and somehow make her believe everything could be okay again.

“Jose, where are you? Where’s your husband?” He frantically asked her.

“It’s a long story. I’m at the airport here in San Diego, I got your number from some of our old friends. Just… please Jake, I’ll explain it all later, just please. I need you to-” She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down, she wouldn’t cry in the middle of an airport, not again, “I need you to come get me, Jake, please.”

“Shit, okay, give me a few minutes alright,” He said quickly.

She could hear him moving around on the other end of the line. Explaining to the woman he was with that he had to go, but would be back as soon as he could. It made her heart ache, hearing how sweet and gentle he was with her, hearing him say that he loved her before walking out. It was everything she didn’t have anymore, but that didn’t stop her from being happy for him. Jake deserved the very best that life had to offer, he always did.

“Alright, I’m on my way Jose, just stay put. Okay darlin, can you do that?”

“I’m not sure if I could move even if I wanted to,” She admitted, “It’s been a long few days.”

“Okay, I’ll call you the second I’m close,” He promised, “I’m coming sweetheart, I promise.”

And so she waited for him to come rescue her once again, just like he did throughout their childhood. From her parents, from boys that mistreated her and petty girls in the school hallways. This time wouldn’t be so simple though, this wasn’t a simple rumor or a group of boys he could just fight off. This was bigger than all of that, because now this was her life.

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risukadarlin · 9 months

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[piofiore no banshou] vol. 4: henri - track one

1; midi

masterpost

✿

[00:05] Oh, I’ll carry that.

You can leave the heavy lifting to me.

You can open that package instead.

I think we’ve finished unpacking now.

We only brought the essentials, so it wasn’t too bad at all, thankfully.

This is our new home.

The table.

The sofa.

The curtains.

And the bed.

I prepared the basics for us, but we can replace them if you find something you like.

It’s a bit smaller than your old room but I didn’t think a huge room would be any better.

You still seem worried whenever I’m not by your side.

That’s not it?

So… You just like being spoiled?

Don’t hide your face.

Look at me.

[01:18] You look good with your hair tied up too.

Of course, it looks just as good down.

You must be tired after such a long journey.

Even if we did stop at a hotel halfway, it doesn’t change the fact we took a longer route.

I’m sorry for pushing you so hard.

But… I’m glad we could leave some flowers for the children…

We haven’t seen them since I left everything with that person, after all.

Back then, my priority was protecting you.

I knew we couldn’t stay in that place for too long, so I even left the burial to someone else.

I know better than anyone that graves mean nothing to the dead, but…

I hoped it might bring them some salvation.

I pray they rest in peace.

Let’s go back one day.

We can’t go regularly.

But we should go again soon.

Oh, that’s right.

What should we do this afternoon?

There are still a few things we need to sort out but you can stay here and rest if you’re too tired…

Really?

Then let’s go out together.

We need things for the kitchen first.

We have a fridge but it’s empty right now.

Shopping is important but we’ve just arrived.

Shall we take a look around Bordeaux?

What do you think?

I’m glad you’re finally able to be open about how you feel.

You’re so cute.

Let’s have lunch first. We can find a cafe nearby.

Then we can look around the town for a bit.

We can buy the basics just before we come home.

Let’s buy the rest tomorrow and explore a bit more if we still have time after that.

Let’s go then!

✿

[03:56] How was the food?

I’m glad it was to your taste.

The food here is quite different from where we just came from.

Lyon is famous for dishes made with tripe.

Its development was driven by the production of silk, so there are a lot of labourers living there.

So, they devised a way of making cheap ingredients taste delicious.

Bordeaux, on the other hand, flourished due to trade.

It’s also especially famous for its wine.

They use bordelaise sauce with meat and fish alike. It’s made with red wine.

It’s a lot more simple than other places we’ve lived.

Though, there is the famous Lamprey à la Bordelaise.

I don’t think I’d like it very much.

I’ll try to find a restaurant that you’ll like.

When our affairs are a bit more in order, I want us to go on a long, relaxed date.

You always make cafe au lait at home. I’ve even started drinking it when we leave the house now.

You’re looking out for me, aren’t you? I know I don’t eat very much.

You think it’s better than me just drinking espresso, don’t you?

I know hot milk is better for the stomach but I just can’t bring myself to like it.

I’m sure you know that already, though.

Anyway, we’re in an entirely new city. Is there anything you’d like to know?

I’ll tell you anything I know.

Oh, that building you can see over there is the Grand Théâtre.

Bordeaux has been a seat of the government twice in the past.

During that time, it was used as the National Assembly for the French Parliament.

Let’s go to the Opera again soon.

I’m sure they’ll show one you enjoy soon.

Is there anything else?

[06:20] You want to know why I chose to move here?

Do you remember last year, we went to Bled in Slovenia during Christmas?

When I asked you where else you wanted to go, you gave a few options.

Bavaria in Germany.

The capital of music, Vienna.

And then, Bordeaux.

You said you wanted to see the Port of the Moon at night.

Obviously, I wanted to grant one of your wishes.

But this place is very convenient for me, too.

The population is large enough and the transportation system is rather varied.

There’s a railway and boats.

We have options if something happens.

It’s also on the West coast of France, which is ideal.

I wanted to put some distance between us and Germany, considering the state of things there.

The church is still looking for you, even now.

I don’t think they’ll be able to find us easily, but apparently he put some rather troublesome traps in place before he died.

You don’t need to worry, we’re well hidden.

All this moving from city to city is just an extra precaution.

Until a while ago, I planned to allow karma to hit me with open arms.

I believed I deserved to be punished for my crimes.

If I really thought I’d one day be forgiven for what I did, I never would have plotted revenge.

But… I never planned to involve you. Any of you.

I thought I could protect you by locking you in that small house.

But it wasn’t enough.

That’s why I won’t ever let them be one step ahead of us again.

I don’t plan to hold back against anyone who tries to interrupt our life.

Obviously, it would be best if they never found us at all.

Don’t you think?

[09:01] Are you ready to go?

What do you want to see first?

Bordeaux Cathedral? It’s around 10 minutes from here.

We can see a few sights as we walk over.

✿

[09:24] Bordeaux Cathedral, or the Primatial Cathedral of St Andrew, was built in the 11th century.

Well, the foundations were. They’ve been adding to it ever since.

You can see the spire from anywhere in the city.

You could even say it’s the building that best represents Bordeaux.

It was once used for the wedding of the King of France.

It’s also famous for the sculptures of the Biblical Day of Judgement.

There really are a lot of people.

Come here.

It’s a famous sightseeing spot. It can’t be helped.

Stay close to me.

I don’t want you to leave my side.

Okay?

Good. Let’s go inside, then.

I’m sure you’ll love the inside just as much as the outside.

[10:41] Isn’t it bright?

Most big, historical churches end up being quite gloomy inside.

But here… It looks like the entire inside is shining white.

I don’t believe in God, but I think you look beautiful in this Cathedral.

It reminds me of Burlone.

I remember once, you looked after me in the church, right after I’d been hit.

I was shocked; you said exactly the kind of thing my sister would have said.

Oh. I never really told you about what kind of a person my sister was, did I?

Let me think…

Chloe was bright and sociable. She didn’t get shy around anyone.

When we were with the Falzone, she spent more time surrounded by adults than with me.

It was hard, at times.

But I never blamed her for it.

She was desperate to make a place for us in that mansion.

And now I know that love makes us do crazy things.

Where do you want to go after we finish exploring here?

Maybe we should go somewhere where we can see the entire city?

Ah, before that, you should pray while we’re here.

I’ll wait for you.

✿

[12:54] I knew you’d like The Grosse Cloche.

Can you see the Garonne River from here? It’s shaped like a crescent moon.

It’s almost blinding in the evening sun.

I can see why they call it the Port of the Moon.

So, how is it? Do you think you’ll like it here?

I’m glad.

There is just one thing weighing on my mind.

Bordeaux is a university city.

I saw a lot of men today who are the same age as you.

I know it might sound childish but a lot of them were looking at you.

If I wasn’t here, they’d most definitely try to talk to you.

I’m a bit worried.

Your shoulder?

Oh, yes… I was holding you close to me all day.

Especially in front of the cathedral and when we were in crowds.

I barely even thought about it myself.

I mean… I can certainly think of a reason why.

You said it before yourself, didn’t you?

I need to practise touching you.

It was probably because of that.

Now, I can’t relax if I’m not touching you.

It’s that time already?

I did plan on eating out tonight but maybe we should relax at home instead.

We should buy a bottle of wine and toast to our new lives.

#otome game #otome cd #otome translation #drama cd #Drama CD translation #piofiore #Piofiore no Banshou #henri lambert

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mephinomaly · 5 months

Text

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Chapter 12

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Time: The next day

Location: ES building, RhythmLink office conversation space

Keito: (Just what are you planning on doing Sakuma!?)

(“I’ll be away for a few days. In my absence, take care of anything that happens at the office for me.” ? And you tell me this now?!)

(...Ever since we filmed “Vampire Shogun”, he’s been acting overly friendly.)

(Do you really think that I’ve forgotten everything you’ve done? That we’ve bonded again to the point that it’s like we’re childhood friends again?)

(If you thought such naivety would get through to me, who is past salvation…I’m insulted.)

(...Well, even if Sakuma doesn’t ask me to, I’d take care of anything that comes up for him.)

(As of late, UNDEAD seems to be in an unfortunate situation, and Ra*bits is tangled up with some influential figure–)

(Among us young ones in RhythmLink, the unit with the most momentum at the moment is us, AKATSUKI.)

(From this point, things start to get complicated. Well, on the surface at least…)

(Therefore we will take charge and ensure a bright future for the young ones in this agency.)

(To do that, I must be proactive and introduce myself to the higher ups!)

(I need to complete chores diligently, and take care of small tasks for my senpais!)

(At the moment, there’s a deep trench between RhythmLink higher ups and us. Let’s bridge this gap, and work together to bring this agency into a new era.)

Tomoya: Zzz, zzzz… ♪

Keito: …!? Mashiro? Why are you sleeping here on the sofa?

That’s dangerous… I almost sat on you. I could have squished you

Tomoya: Mmnhnnn…. H-hng? Where, am I?

Keito: Are you awake now?... Good morning, Mashiro.

Tomoya: Waah!? Aaa, g-g-good morning Hasumi-senpai!

Keito: Hm. Well done for greeting me properly.

More importantly, what are you doing sleeping here of all places?

Tomoya: Ah, um, I’m sorry… As you might know, things have been tricky as of late.

Keito: Are you a stray cat? If you’re going to sleep, go back to your own room. You need to sleep in a proper bed otherwise you’ll hurt yourself.

Tomoya: I know… But this is an important time for us, so I have to try my hardest.

Keito: Is there anything I can do?

Tomoya: Ah, there is something I wanted to ask you. There’s something I want to do using the SSVRS–

But um, UNDEAD are currently using it, so. I have some of the things I need but I don’t think it’s enough.

Keito: What? UNDEAD are using the SSVRS?

Tomoya: Yes. When I applied to use it, the person in charge told me that.

Keito: They’re away taking part in some sort of secret plan. And that plan involves using the SSVRS?

Tomoya: Oh? I didn’t know about that, so maybe they’re not really away?

I thought they were going to take part in a live broadcast today.

Keito: Live broadcast? Is that a part of the secret plan too? You know quite a lot about the activities of other units, don’t you?

Tomoya: Ahaha. I think that’s one of my strong points, and since I like it, I’m good at it. Well, my love of idols has been stolen by Shiratori.

Ah, look. They’re live already. A special emergency broadcast from UNDEAD.

Keito: Emergency broadcast? Are they disbanding?

Tomoya: No, I don’t think so. UNDEAD are a popular unit, so.

Hm? What are they saying? Isn’t that weird?

Keito: What is it, show me.

Tomoya: Look at it on your own phone please~...?

Keito: Fine. …Hm, what is this? What are these costumes they’re wearing?

What are they singing— is that their debut song?

No, that was a slightly different song. This is one of the songs they were deciding on for their debut live.

There was quite a lot of reasons why they didn’t end up singing it—

Tomoya: You’re quite well informed too. Are you an UNDEAD fan too, Hasumi-senpai?

Keito: Hm. There’s been a lot going on with them since they formed, really even before that.

But why are they singing that? A song from ages ago that nobody remembers?

Are they planning on going back to their roots? It’s true UNDEAD have been on decline recently, but enough to do that?

Fumu, HELLSING, was it? As in that famous vampire exterminator, Van Helsing? No, isn’t the spelling different?

‘Hell’, as in the underworld, and ‘sing’ as in, to sing.

How ominous. What the hell are those guys up to this time…?

[ ☆ ]

Chapter 11