#are you a tombstone because i want you on top of me

[the-busy-ghost]

Benefits of audiobooks- I can listen to them while I work, and I am forced to hear and consider every word, rather than read at my usual flying pace, which means I don’t miss things as much and get a deeper and more sustained enjoyment from a really good book

Disadvantages of audiobooks- When there are emotional details they aren’t blunted by the fact that my uncontrolled eye is already skimming the next passages and there are some Emotions that are not appropriate for working hours

#The Woman in White #Because Mrs Clements saying 'I made her first short frocks' broke me #And yet if I'd been reading a physical copy of that passage I'd probably have flown through it without remembering that sentence at all #Also the bit where Hartright says that Anne is buried in a place that Mrs Clements would have chosen for her herself #Was very upsetting #AND to top it all off I've just gone back an dlooked up the passage again and there's a sentence about how #Hartright 'is certain that she was not neglected in her last moments' #WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WALTER #Ok so she had medical attention and all the kindness that strangers could give her #But she died in a strange place confused as to why she was there surrounded by people who only wanted to use her #and the one person in the world who loved her not only didn't know where she was but never heard of her death until Walter told her #At least I suppose when he says that he means it as a comfort to Mrs Clements and that's totally fair and valid but still #Honestly I quite enjoyed the book but Anne Catherick deserved so much better than a single line on a tombstone #Maybe I'm just susceptible to statements about people who died without their loved ones near them for personal reasons #And I know it's a very common occurrence and even in the Victorian era when many people died at home it was common then #But poor Anne deserved better #Anyway also proof that audiobooks count as 'real books' #Because even though I don't always count them towards reading challenges I actually find that I pay more attention #and get a lot more out of fiction books at least than if I'd been reading them in a physical copy #Non-fiction is a different matter but I learnt to race through novels at an early age and just eat them up without much mulling over them #And it's hard to control my eye even when I'm trying to savour a book #So audiobooks actually make me read more carefully and sensibly #Perhaps the main disadvantage is I never know how the names of people and places are spelt #Especially if the narrator has an accent #reading log

[silent-stories]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐌

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie wants to introduce you to his mom, so you go to the graveyard with him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, death of a parent

It was late evening and the sky was starting to darken when you sat down on the ground, in front of the stone with Mrs. Munson's name engraved on it.

"Hi mom, this is Y/N," Eddie said as he crossed his legs and stared at the faded photo of the smiling woman on the tombstone "my girlfriend."

He had been wanting to take you there for some time, he said that since he knew your family he wanted you to get to "know" his too, only if you wanted too, of course.

"I've talked about her so many times before, I do it every time I come here actually, but I've never brought her here before." He added pulling his hands out of his jacket pockets and playing nervously with the rings on his fingers.

He kept talking without ever meeting your gaze as if he was afraid of what he might read in your eyes.

"She's here because she's really important to me and I wanted to introduce her to you too. Uncle Wayne has already said that she likes her a lot, they're basically best friends, sometimes I think she loves him more than me." He said the last part with a slight laugh but from his expression he didn't look amused.

"You two have a lot in common, you know?" He asked before pausing as if he was really waiting for an answer.

In return you only heard the rustling of the leaves of the trees caused by the wind.

"She's as kind as you were. She always lets me copy her homework even though I should probably start doing it myself if I wanna graduate. Sometimes she brings home-cooked food for me and Wayne, she and her mom make really good chocolate cakes, you would have liked them a lot." He explained, his voice low.

"Sometimes we cook together like I used to do with you. But Y/N and I always end up making a mess or fighting with flour. But it's fun, so we keep doing it even if we have to clean the trailer from top to bottom afterwards." A sad smile appeared on Eddie's face, probably remembering his days spent with his mother when she was with him.

"And she's as funny as you, she can make me smile with a simple joke even though my day has been shit and I just want to sleep for three days straight." He added and your heart squeezed in your chest.

"She's caring. That's another thing you both have in common. Once I didn't go to school because I had a fever and she missed an important test to come and check if I was okay. Actually I wasn't very okay, she had to keep my hair back as I threw up. I told her she could go anyway but she stayed with me until Wayne was back, at night. She stayed there all those hours, making me rest my head on her stomach and running her hands through my hair just like you used to do." At this point you just wanted to cry. You never thought that all those simple gestures that were part of your relationship with Eddie could mean so much to him.

You reached out to him and grabbed his hand which had started to shake slightly and definitely not from the temperature. He fliched at first, then hold it as if his life depended on it.

"She's also a good listener, she never judges when I talk about my problems and always listens when I talk about things I'm interested in . She says she likes to hear me talk about what I like, Dungeons & Dragons, the band and music in general, books. Once I even started reading the Hobbit aloud to her, but she fell asleep after half an hour with her head on my chest. I didn't get mad, she was too pretty. And I could never be mad at her, she makes me happy." If he was talking about being happy, then why did his voice sound so broken?

"When I'm with her I feel good, mom. It doesn't matter if I'm at school, in the trailer or on a bench in the woods, when I'm with her I feel at home. And it feels good. It feels great." He added as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"She's one of the best people I know." He breathed as you reached up to him and wiped it away with your thumb, slowly caressing his cheek.

"You would have loved her, mom." He said finally, before wrapping an arm around your waist and pushing you against him, resting his head on your shoulder and sniffling.

"It's okay." You said rubbing your hand on the fabric of the denim jacket covering his back.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too. And I'm so sorry I didn't get to know your mom. If she was even half as amazing as you are, then she really must have been great." You said leaving a kiss on his forehead.

"She was." He murmured as his arms still held you.

Your lips brushed his temple leaving a light kiss there too, then you turned towards the tombstone.

"Mrs. Munson, I promise I will take good care of your boy."

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

[kareofbears]

"You know," Thomas starts, putting the flowers down on the sand as he rolls his sleeves up. "How you yelled at me, back in the Glade, because I wasn't helping out?"

A breeze ruffles his hair, longer than it was a year ago, and the tang of salt doesn't register anymore. "I know, I know. You technically didn't yell. To be fair, I was new, and it's not like I had someone showing me the ropes."

He kneels on the ground, in front of where the tombstone stood. This wasn't the boulder that Vince had set up in the beginning of Safe Haven's existence--this was smaller, flatter, bordering on where the sand meets the dirt. "Now, I feel like all I'm doing with these kids is showing the ropes."

Busying himself with rearranging the flowers, he rubs his thumb on a golden petal idly. "They're doing fine. Between me and the others, things are getting done. Maybe not as efficiently if you were here, but we're trying." He pauses. "I'm trying."

Thomas' voice doesn't shake, not anymore. How can it? It's just him and Newt. His voice never shakes with Newt.

Waves crash somewhere behind him. A bird chirps, its tune lively and bright. The world continues to spin, and it's a long moment before he speaks again.

"I'm throwing myself into work, Newt." His gaze tilts skywards. "I'm working, aren't I? I build homes, I teach, I train the others. There's food, so much of it, enough for years and for anyone who wants to start a family. Last night, I woke up because people were laughing so loud near my bed--laughing. I couldn't even get mad."

Careful not to mess up the floral arrangement, Thomas leans forward slowly until his forehead is pressed right up against the slab, stone cool to the touch. "How busy?" he wonders. "How busy do I need to be until this gets better? How much more do I need to do before it starts to get better? How much more do I need to give?"

When he doesn't get an answer, Thomas lets his eyes slip close. "I'm busy, Newt. I'm busy, and I'm trying, and I'm so fucking sad."

Eventually, Thomas raises his head. He presses his lips to the top of the tombstone, smiling wryly to himself. "At least I can actually reach the top of your head like this, right?"

He gets on his feet, brushing the sand off of his pants, feeling the sun beat relentlessly down on his skin. "Tomorrow, then. Maybe it'll get better tomorrow."

#drabble #tricky tricky writers block eh #too short for ao3 just the right size to post on tumblr #the maze runner #fic tag #newt #maze runner #TMR #thomas/newt #newtmas

[lostfracturess]

【 ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ 】 6

x PAIRING gojo satoru x fem!reader (main); megumi fushiguro x fem!reader x WORD COUNT 8.6 k x SUMMARY you never wanted to become part of the world of jujutsu sorcerers, yet fate had other plans when the one and only satoru gojo took you under his wing at jujutsu high. as the lines between student and teacher begin to blur, hidden powers surge to life, and a deadly target is set on your head. x WARNINGS + NOTES this story contains partly abusive and possessive behavior, explicit content, graphic depictions of violence, injury, combat and angst. you can also read it on wattpad or ao3. pls like or repost if you enjoyed ♡

➸ part one; part two; part three; part four; part five

Laughter once again filled the air as you all sat around a high-top table in a bustling bar, the earlier altercation with Satoru pushed to the back of your mind. The dim lighting and the clink of glasses created a cocoon that made the outside world seem distant.

"I'm telling you, the spicier the food, the better the night," Yuji said, slapping Megumi on the back. Yuji took another hearty bite of the burrito, which the bartender had boasted to be the spiciest thing he'd ever tasted.

Megumi shook his head. "Your taste is really awful."

Nobara rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. "Yuji, the only thing you're going to attract with that fiery breath is a dragon looking for its lost sibling."

You chuckled along. "Well, I guess it's time for another round of drinks. Yuji, shall I get you a shot of pure chili with a side of vodka? Or just milk?"

Yuji feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "I'll have you know, my palate is refined. I am a connoisseur of all things spicy and adventurous."

"Which is why you cried at the last hot wing challenge?" Nobara teased, her eyebrow arched in amusement.

"Those were tears of joy, a tribute to the spice gods."

Nobara shook her head with a grin. "Sure, Yuji. We'll put that on your tombstone."

The group erupted into laughter, and you took the opportunity to head to the bar for another round of drinks. The lively chatter of the bar guests created a soothing backdrop as you squeezed through the crowd.

Reaching the bar, you signaled the bartender and waited, idly watching the colorful array of bottles lined up. That's when you felt someone sidle up next to you. Too close.

"Hey, can I buy you a drink?" A man with a hopeful smile leaned against the bar, trying to catch your eye.

"No, thank you. I'm with my friends."

He persisted, inching closer. "Come on, what's the harm? One drink."

You shifted uncomfortably. "Really, I'm fine. Please excuse me."

Unfortunately, the man took this as a challenge rather than a dismissal. "Come on, don't be like that—."

Before you could respond, Megumi was standing behind the drunken, tipping on the man's shoulder. The guy turned, meeting Megumi's unyielding gaze. "She's not interested, buddy," Megumi said.

In a flash, Megumi's fist connected with the man's jaw, the sound sharp in the din of the bar, sending him staggering backwards. You hold your breath. Your eyes widening as the man in front of you tumbled from his chair and crashed onto the floor.

The bar erupted into chaos, but Yuji and Nobara were quick to intervene. "We should've stuck to the milk plan," Yuji muttered as he stepped between Megumi and the unfolding scene.

Nobara nodded, pulling Megumi and you back. "Yeah, because apparently, it's the cure for more than just spicy food."

With a mix of urgency and stealth, you all made your way out of the bar. The evening's earlier laughter now replaced by the adrenaline of a quick getaway.

You spilled out of the bar into the neon-lit streets of Tokyo, the cold night air filling your lungs as you sprinted away from the commotion. Laughter and shouts faded into the distance behind you. Your group weaved through the bustling crowds, blending into the sea of people until you were sure you'd put enough space between yourselves and the bar.

Finally, breathless and far enough away to be safe, you all collapsed onto a park bench under a large, sprawling tree just beside the Sumida river. Yuji bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Nobara was the first to break into laughter.

"Well, that certainly took a turn," she gasped between fits of laughter.

Yuji added with a smirk, "That was either the best or the worst post-dinner entertainment I've ever experienced."

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. 

"And here I thought the evening's highlight was going to be the dessert, not Megumi's right hook," Nobara joked, slapping Megumi's shoulder playfully.

Your eyes landed on Megumi's hand. The knuckles were red. "Your hand," you reached out, taking his hand gently in yours to inspect it. "Does it hurt?"

Megumi flinched at your sudden touch. "It's nothing. Just a bit red," but the grimace that followed told another story.

Nobara, still chuckling, teased, "That's some punch you've got there, champ."

Yuji couldn't resist adding his own commentary, "At least now we have a new story to tell."

Amidst the laughter, your attention remained fixed on Megumi's hand. "Seriously, Megumi, this isn't 'nothing'," you insisted, holding his hand up to the light for a better look. "We need to get this checked out or at least properly iced. It could be worse than it looks."

"Okay, okay," he conceded, "We'll take a look at it later."

Nobara stepped closer. "You'd better follow her orders, Fushiguro, or she'll be the next one to throw a punch," she warned with a grin.

Megumi nodded, accepting the inevitable fuss over his well-being. "Alright, no arguments here."

Your eyes briefly met Megumi's and your lips formed a silent 'thank you'.

Yuji's jesting continued, "Next time you want to show off for her, maybe just try flowers, Fushiguro."

Nobara laughed, and even Megumi cracked a smile. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Nobara stood up, clapping her hands together. "Alright, team, where to next?"

Reluctantly, you released Megumi's hand, glancing at his face to ensure he was truly okay. "Perhaps somewhere with fewer jerks, considering the state of Megumi's hand—"

"Gojo's little treasure, so exposed."

A curse.

Before you could react, the curse lunged, its hand outstretched towards your head. Time slowed. Your breath caught in your throat.

In a blur of movement too quick to follow, Satoru appeared from nowhere. His kick slamming the curse into the wall of a nearby building with a crash that echoed through the stillness of the night. The building collapsed, burying the curse beneath the rubble.

Another curse, charging straight at you. But Satoru was faster. His arms wrapping around you, pulling you into the shelter of his protection just as the force of the curse struck both of you, throwing you several metres back into the structure.

The impact reverberated through your body as you slammed into the wall, air forcefully expelled from your lungs. Satoru's embrace barely cushioned the impact. Still, you felt his warmth. His familiar warmth. His cursed energy blazed around you like a shield. Debris rained down, crashing against Satoru's infinity.

"Are you hurt?"

Pain stabbed through your chest, making it hard to breathe. "No, I'm not," you lied, coughing through the dusty haze. Your hand hastily covering your mouth. Your fingers came away bloody. "Oh, fuck."

"Well, I hate to say 'I told you so', but—."

"You actually want to have this conversation right now?"

"You really don't want to learn, do you?" he challenged.

Satoru's hold on you loosened. "Stay down," he commanded, shifting to cover you. In an instant, Megumi's Divine Dog lunged towards another curse that materialized beside you, pinning it down and tearing its head off. Simultaneously, Satoru charged forward, engaging in a fierce hand-to-hand combat with the curse that had targeted you.

Shockwaves rippled through the air. Their movements were a blur. Strikes and parries too fast. Each exchanging multiple blows per second. Dodging and weaving. They moved with such incredible speed and precision that it was nearly impossible to keep up with their fight.

Adrenaline surged through your veins. Nobara and Yuji quickly rushed over to you.

"We should get going," Yuji said, but in that split second, Megumi's Divine Dog lunged at another approaching curse, catching you off guard. The alcohol had dulled your senses, causing you to react a moment too late. However, you weren't the only one struggling—Nobara was barely able to stand herself.

Fuck, at this rate, we're easy prey.

"Retreat!" Megumi shouted over the chaos as he fought another curse. At least he appeared to be somewhat sober and focused. However, in an instant, another curse emerged, splitting your group and forcing all of you to step back. Yuji wasted no time in confronting it, driving it away from Nobara and you.

But these were no ordinary curses. They were so fucking fast. And you too drunk.

Yuji's stamina faltered, his precision waning under the relentless pace. Sweat beaded and flung from his brow as he swung with diminishing accuracy.

Each of Yuji's strikes a beat behind the curse's lithe dodges. Exhaustion clawed at Yuji's stance. With a final surge of energy, Yuji lunged, aiming for the curse's core. But the creature dodged with mocking ease. It bounded against the building's wall, defying gravity, and launched itself in a lethal arc. Its foot struck Yuji on the side of the head, sending him flying backwards. He was knocked unconscious before the curse landed before him.

You sprinted toward him but were halted midway by a sorcerer—an enemy. 

How many of them were there? Where was Satoru? 

A sudden strike from the sorcerer snapped you back to reality. You barely managed to dodge it, stumbling to the floor before hastily regaining your feet. The persistent alcohol haze continued to pound in your skull, impairing your coordination. 

Then, another strike came, and you had to summon all your remaining strength to evade it. The sheer force of his blows that followed stunned you for a moment. You managed to raise your katana just in time, blocking a blow that could have knocked you cold—the impact sending shockwaves through your arms. 

Wait a second.

You weren't at school. You weren't on a mission. You didn't have your katana with you.

The realization dawned on you. The effects of the alcohol began to wear off. But it was already too late. Blood trickled down your arm and across your face, leaving a warm, crimson trail.

What the hell am I doing?

Nobara quickly rushed to your side, hurling nails into the sorcerers head and ending his threat. You pulled your arm back, sharp pain ripping through you as you saw the gruesome wound.

"What are you doing?" she asked, panic creeping into her voice.

You did not know either. You did not know anything anymore. 

But there was no time to think.

In a split second, you witnessed Satoru's cursed technique painting the sky red, followed by the howling of Megumi's Divine Dog. Your gaze darted from the unconscious Yuji on the ground to Nobara. 

Behind her the sorcerer. 

Your cry too late. 

She crumpled to the ground.

In the very next moment, the sorcerer lunged at you, causing you to stagger backward. The sorcerer's strikes landed with ruthless precision. The first two sending waves of pain through your body. Then came a barrage of blows that left you numb to the pain, a relentless onslaught you could no longer distinguish or feel.

Your vision clouded, making it difficult to see. Your other senses dulled by the alcohol. You knew you couldn't rely on your cursed technique in this state. All that remained was your physical strength, but even that was wearing thin.

Fuck. Think.

With a final, devastating strike, the sorcerer sent you hurtling backward. He seized you by the collar, effortlessly lifting you before flinging you at the remnants of the wall. Your head collided with unforgiving stone. Your vision erupted into darkness. Blinking slowly, you managed to regain some semblance of sight, just in time to witness the sorcerer looming over your limp form.

"You really aren't as special as you think, are you?"

Blood spilled onto the floor as you retorted, "Special enough for you to come all this way, didn't you?"

He chuckled. "And quite the big mouth, too."

Think. Think. Think. Think.

Suddenly you became aware of the river streaming a few metres away. In an instant, driven by adrenaline, you sprang to your feet. With all your strength, you lunged at the sorcerer, forcing him backwards and over the edge. The two of you hurtled headfirst into the river.

Upon impact, your senses abruptly shut down. You were completely engulfed by the biting cold; couldn't breathe, couldn't hear, couldn't see. Attempting to swim proved futile as the powerful current and your aching limbs defied your commands. Involuntarily, you choked as a torrent of water rushed into your mouth.

You didn't know how long you were in the water. 

How deep you had sunk. 

The neon lights slowly fading on the surface.

This is it. I'm going to die.

But strangely, it didn't feel as bad as you expected. There was no pain—your entire body had gone numb. Your mind blank. It wasn't such a terrible way to go. At least it was peaceful.

Suddenly, someone seized you firmly, and your eyes shot open.

Satoru pulled your head close to his, sealing your lips with a deep, urgent kiss. A small bubble of air passed between you. It wasn't much, but it cleared your vision, eased the burning in your lungs. Adrenaline surged through you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you both towards the surface.

Satoru hoisted you over the edge and out of the water. You collapsed, coughing and choking on the river water. Satoru, too, was trying to catch his breath as he collapsed beside you. You briefly glanced at your right arm. It was a gruesome sight and you couldn't bear to look at it. 

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

You didn't respond. You didn't know how to. For a moment, you had considered that maybe dying wouldn't be so terrible—it might solve all your problems and keep the others safe. 

Keep Satoru save.

"Hey, look at me," he insisted.

But you couldn't find the energy. You were too drained to feel much of anything. Satoru grasped your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze. He wasn't angry. He was scared.

"Promise me this," he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of your cheek, "—when we make it through this, you'll marry me."

Huh??

You blinked a few times, caught off guard by his words.

His gaze, unwavering, held you captive. "And promise me," he continued, "—that you won't pull any more reckless stunts that might get you killed until then."

You opened your mouth, but your voice betrayed you. Piercing sounds tore through the air. Sirens blared, so loud and close that it felt like they were ringing directly in your ears. The world around you seemed to spin. And then everything went black.

****

Dawn filtered through the windows, casting a soft light across the quiet room where Yuji lay resting. You were slumped in a chair beside him. Your sleep uneasy and shallow. The gentle touch on your shoulder stirred you awake, and you blinked into the morning light, finding Satoru besides you.

"How are you feeling?"

You stretched, feeling the stiffness of your muscles, the ache in your bones. A deep, sharp pain in your arm. "I've been better," you murmured, your fingers tracing the edge of the bandages around your arm. He pulled up a chair and sat down, facing you, his gaze resting heavily on you.

"How's Nobara and Megumi?" You asked.

"They're fine." He tilted his head slightly. "I'm more concerned about you."

You averted your gaze, fingers tugging nervously at the edges of your bandages. "I'm sorry, Satoru," you said after a pause. "I was so fucking stupid."

"You're young. It's ok to make mistakes."

You shot him a narrow-eyed glance. "Don't say that. I put everyone in danger."

How could you have been so foolish? With everything that's been happening, it was only a matter of time before someone seized an opportunity to attack you. Again.

"That's why I'm here," Satoru replied, reaching for your hand. His lips brushed against your knuckles in a tender kiss. "—to protect everyone, and your reckless ass."

It was meant to be light, to draw a smile from you, but the humor fell flat. Your heart felt heavy. You saw the strain behind his eyes, the unspoken fear that he masked with a joke. It was the look of someone who had seen too much, who bore the burden of keeping everyone safe—even from themselves.

You pulled your hand back. "You know, you could stand to be a little stricter with me."

Satoru leaned back. "Stricter, huh? I've tried, you know. But I guess I've accepted the fact that I'll spend my life chasing after you, protecting you from the world."

"Sounds exhausting."

He grinned. "Not if it's for you."

Your gaze drifted to Yuji, whose features were softened in sleep. Soft rays played upon his skin, highlighting the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each steady, rhythmic breath. You leaned forward slightly to take his hand and stroke it gently.

"You know," Satoru's grin disappeared. "I have to apologize as well."

"For what?"

"I may have gone a bit overboard with my protectiveness."

You sighed, the adrenaline from the night still lingering. "Not really. In the end, you were right, and I was wrong. Maybe I am just too naive to handle things on my own."

"Naive? No, I'd say you're just unpredictably spontaneous. It keeps life thrilling."

"Thrilling, huh? Is that what we're calling near-death experiences these days?"

"Absolutely," he retorted with a chuckle. "And as for being too naive to handle things on your own—well, let's just say if being naive means charging headfirst into a river to drown a sorcerer, then I'm not sure 'naive' is the word we're looking for. Maybe 'fearlessly impulsive'?"

"Fearlessly impulsive? Only you would turn my stupidity into a compliment."

"Well, I have to find some way to make sense of your antics. Otherwise, I'm just the crazy guy running around Tokyo trying to save a girl who doesn't seem to want saving."

You met his gaze again. "Maybe that's exactly what you are."

"Ah," he said with a theatrical sigh, "—the crazy guy with the even crazier girl. Sounds like a perfect match to me."

The room settled back into silence, the only sound the rhythmic breathing of Yuji's slumber.

"So, what's your answer?" Satoru asked after a pause.

"To what?"

"My proposal," he said with a dry tone.

A sudden tightness enveloped your chest, making each breath feel shallower. Your gaze shifted to a distant point outside the window, focusing on anything but the seriousness in Satoru's eyes. "You wouldn't want to marry someone like me."

"Because you think you're broken?"

"Because I am a mess," you turned to him. "—and certainly not suited for the Gojo clan."

He leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. "Do you really think that matters to me?"

Your silence was answer enough.

"I want you," Satoru said. "All I'm waiting for is you to stop fighting it."

Satoru's gaze was patient, unwavering, as if he could afford to wait a lifetime for you to lower the walls you'd so meticulously built.

"You don't know what you're asking," you said finally.

"But I do," Satoru countered firmly. "I want you, with all the chaos and battles you bring into my life. Even though you push me to the brink of madness sometimes. You're the person I love, and I won't hesitate to remind you of that every day."

He reached out, gently sweeping a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm asking for you—all of you, for all of time," he continued. "Even if it means facing hell itself, I want to face it with you."

You found yourself leaning into the caress. His hand warm against your skin. His expression held a sincerity that made your heart race, a sincerity that made the idea of a future together seem not just possible, but real. 

Yet, you were at a loss for words, unable to answer. The confession he longed to hear remained trapped behind fear. Even though every fiber of your being yearned for him to claim you as his own. Still, the vulnerability of uttering those three little words felt like stepping into the abyss.

"I've never said that I love you," you said quietly.

Satoru smiled faintly. "No need to. I see it in your eyes."

Before you could respond, a groggy voice sliced through the silence.

"Hey, if you guys are getting married, can we have one of those chocolate fountains?" Yuji mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. His eyes blinked open, unfocused, as he tried to sit up, looking from you to Satoru with a dazed expression. "With, like, an infinite supply of strawberries?"

Satoru turned to him, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Sure, we'll have that. And not just strawberries—let's throw in marshmallows, cookies, everything."

You tried to interject. "Wait, we're not planning the—" 

But the conversation was already spiraling out of control. Yuji building on the momentum, sitting up with an excitement that made you question how 'asleep' he had been. "Oh, and we need one of those bouncy castles! No wedding is complete without one. And can I be the best man? I've got some killer moves for the reception!"

Satoru laughed. "You're in, Yuji. But only if you promise to keep your shirt on during those 'killer moves'."

"And don't forget the ice cream truck! Every epic wedding needs an endless supply of ice cream," Yuji declared, sitting up straighter, his energy infectious.

Satoru nodded enthusiastically. "And about the venue—why not the Edo Castle? We need a place that can handle our kind of crowd."

You sighed. "This sounds more like a child's birthday than a wedding."

Yuji's eyes shone with a mischievous glint as he leaned toward you. "Come on, imagine it! The bouncy castle will be the hit of the night, and you, soaring through the air in your wedding dress—it'd be legendary!"

You couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up at the image he painted. It was ludicrous, utterly fanciful, and yet—oddly charming in its way. Turning to Satoru with a playful roll of your eyes, you conceded, "Well, it seems you've got everything planned out. You just need a bride then."

Satoru met your gaze, his eyes alight with a challenge. "I'm working on it," he replied, his voice tinged with confidence. "But I've got my sights set on the best one out there. She's a bit stubborn, but she'll come around." He winked, and the promise in his words was clear—he wasn't one to back down.

Pain.

"Fuck," you cursed as you crumpled over, clutching your arm.

The playful banter was abruptly replaced by a merciless, searing agony in your arm—the same arm that had been wounded the previous night. Shoko had tended to it, and it should have been healing, but the pain intensified, surging like wildfire through your veins.

You hastily began to unwrap the bandages, a sense of dread gnawing at the pit of your stomach. As the last layer came off, the room fell into silence. Your arm was an unnatural, disturbing shade of purple and blue, the discoloration spreading ominously from the wound.

"What the—" Yuji gasped, leaning in for a closer look.

Satoru's expression turned grave as he swiftly seized your arm, carefully examining it. His fingers gently probed the discolored skin.

"This doesn't seem like a normal injury," Yuji added. "Could it be some kind of poison or a lingering effect from a cursed technique?"

"Poison??" you echoed.

"Is it spreading?" Yuji continued, his voice rising. "I mean, could it get worse?"

"Worse??"

Satoru remained uncharacteristically silent. He studied your arm with an intensity that was almost unnerving, his brows furrowed. The absence of his usual confident demeanor was more alarming than any of Yuji's anxious questions.

"Satoru?" you asked, your voice trembling. His silence was unlike him, and in that moment, it was the loudest thing in the room.

Satoru finally raised his head. His eyes locking with yours and you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—was it fear? Terror? It was hard to tell, but it was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"We need to get you to Shoko," he said. "Now."

****

The violet hue had spread further.

The air hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic. Harsh, clinical fluorescent lighting cast stark, sterile shadows across the crisp white walls.

Shoko examined your arm, her gloved hands carefully assessing the discolored and painful area. "It's definitely a cursed technique," she confirmed. "The discoloration and pain are typical of a curse's influence."

"How do we stop it?" Satoru asked.

Removing her gloves, Shoko glanced up, her expression grave. "The only way to reverse this is for the caster to undo it." 

Satoru's jaw clenched.

"That's going to be a problem," Yuji remarked. "She... she drowned the sorcerer in the river."

"—along with herself." Satoru added the grim detail as if it was just another piece of information.

You shot Satoru a sharp glance but his expression remained cold.

"Drowned him?" Shoko moved to her desk, her mind working through the implications. "If he were dead, the curse should be gone. He must be alive somewhere."

Yuji chimed in. "But we have no idea where. He could be anywhere by now."

Shoko exhaled heavily. "Then we have a serious issue. Without the caster, this technique will keep spreading. It could be lethal."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Your heart raced, panic setting in at the thought of the cursed technique slowly killing you—a ticking time bomb.

At that moment, Megumi burst into the room. "How bad is it?" 

His wide eyes scanned the scene, locking onto your arm, where the unnatural color stood out even more under the harsh, clinical lighting. Megumi crossed the room and took your arm, his fingers carefully exploring the discolored skin.

Satoru, standing just a step away, observed the interaction, a storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. You didn't need to look at him to sense it. His hands tensed at his sides, a clear sign of the effort it took to restrain himself.

"It's spreading," his fingers traced the edges of the discolored skin. "We need to find a cure or a way to extract it."

"We guessed as much," Satoru replied, his voice tinged with a hint of irony. His gaze remained fixed on the spot where Megumi's hands touched your skin.

After a brief silence, Yuji spoke up. "Is there any way we can locate the sorcerer? Or break the technique without him?"

Shoko gently shook her head. "Breaking the technique without the caster's intervention is nearly impossible. Cursed techniques are bound by their users, and only they have the ability to undo them."

Megumi's gaze shifted to Shoko. "So, we're just supposed to wait around while this curse eats her alive?"

Somehow you regretted trying to drown the sorcerer. Or perhaps that you had not drowned yourself successfully.

Shoko empathized with his urgency but remained practical. "I'll do my best to alleviate the symptoms and slow down the progression, but I can't promise a complete cure without the caster's cooperation."

"Wait, she can manipulate cursed energy. Why not this curse?" Yuji asked.

All eyes turned to you, the weight of their expectations heavy in the air. "I don't know if this will work."

"Try it," Satoru commanded.

The room fell silent.

You took a deep breath and focused on the cursed energy coursing through your veins. The ominous colour that had stained your arm seemed to pulse in response, as if mocking your attempts to control it.

Gritting your teeth, you tried to manipulate the curse, to command it to recede, to dissipate like smoke in the wind. But the harder you concentrated, the more the pain intensified, surging through your entire body like a searing fire. Every nerve screamed in protest and your vision blurred from the agony.

"I can't," you gasped, your voice strained as you released your hold on the cursed energy. The violet hue on your arm remained as stubborn and unyielding as ever, if not more pronounced. 

Satoru's expression darkened. "I'll start looking immediately for that bastard sorcerer."

"I'm coming with you," Megumi declared firmly, with Yuji nodding in agreement.

"No, wait," you attempted to interject, but Megumi, Yuji, and Satoru were already poised to leave. Megumi turned to you. "We'll fix this. Just hold on."

Panic surged through you as the reality of their departure set in. 

No. 

No. 

This can't be happening.

Your voice cracked as you shouted their names. 

"Come back to me, you hear?"

But they left without a second wasted, their steps echoing down the empty corridor, and you remained alone in the now silent room. 

So stupid. 

Seconds stretched into minutes. Each passing moment added to the growing void that enveloped you. The weight of your choices pressed down, and you wished you could turn back time. But you can't.

So fucking stupid. 

Your fists clenched tightly, nails digging into your palms until they started to bleed. 

How could you be so fucking stupid.

Shoko unfolded your clenched fists, revealing the crescent marks your nails had left in your skin. "Easy, sweet girl," she soothed.

"It's all my fault," you murmured, barely audible. "I keep putting them in danger."

"They are sorcerers. This is the life they chose. Don't carry the burden of their decisions."

As she spoke, she applied her reverse cursed technique to your hands. The sting of the cuts faded away as swiftly as they had appeared. You clenched your fists a few times to relieve the tension.

"How long do I have left?"

Shoko hesitated, her eyes meeting yours. The pause was enough to tighten the knot of fear in your stomach. "A week, maybe."

The room felt colder—emptier.

A week. 

Each tick of the clock felt like a countdown now.

Tick.

A constant reminder that time was slipping away.

Tick.

And you had no idea if you could find a solution before it was too late.

Tick.

****

Christmas at Jujutsu High was far from the festive celebration one might have hoped for, especially under the current circumstances. With Satoru and the others out there, risking their lives to rectify your mistake, the holiday spirit was the last thing on your mind. Instead, you were left in the company of Nobara and Maki, each dealing with the situation in their own unique way.

The school was quieter than usual. You sat in the common room, a half-hearted attempt at celebrating Christmas. Yet, the festive decorations appeared out of context. A small tree stood in the corner, adorned with a mess of decorations—its cheerful sparkle felt cruel.

"Well, at least we've got the place to ourselves. Who needs a bunch of noisy guys around, right?" Nobara tried to sound upbeat, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Maki chimed in. "Yeah, enjoy the peace and quiet. It's not every Christmas you get a cursed technique as a gift. Talk about unique presents."

You couldn't help but wince at the joke. It was too close to the bone. 

Over the past two days, the sinister purple hue of the poison had crept insidiously beyond the confines of your arm, now tracing a chilling path up your neck and across your chest. Each morning revealed a further spread of the discoloration.

The thought that you might still have a week suddenly seemed optimistic—the reality was unfolding much faster and more aggressively.

The conversation drifted to attempts at normalcy, discussing plans for New Year's Eve, but your thoughts kept circling back to Satoru and the others. Were they all right? Had they found any leads? The worry gnawed at you, a constant reminder that time was running out.

"Hey, lavender girl. You're with us, remember? They're strong; they'll be fine."

You ignored the 'lavender girl'.

"Yeah," Maki added. "Besides, if it's anyone's last Christmas, it's probably yours, right?"

You ignored that too.

The afternoon wore on, filled with half-hearted attempts at festivity. Nobara and Maki came up with one bad idea after another. Now you decorated gingerbread cookies. It was Nobara's idea. Fucking gingerbread cookies. Each sugary smile you piped felt like a mockery of the situation.

"Look," Nobara picked up a gingerbread man. "I made a cookie version of you—starts off sweet but ends up cursed!"

A dry chuckle escaped your lips as you inspected the gingerbread man with its half-violet coating and two X's marking its eyes. It was a dark yet fitting joke. "I guess that makes it the most authentic gingerbread man here."

"And here's mine," Maki held up a gingerbread figure that was missing an arm. "It's Gojo after he comes back from saving you."

Nobara laughed. "Oh, we're terrible. This is what happens when you leave three sorcerers alone on Christmas with a bunch of cookies."

Nobara picked up another gingerbread figure, this one decorated with wild icing patterns. "And this one's Yuji, right? Looks just as confused as he does half the time."

"Yeah, but at least the cookie doesn't scream as much," Maki quipped, earning a snort of laughter from Nobara.

What's wrong with them? 

Should you be seriously concerned about their mental health?

You continued to pipe icing on the gingerbread figures. But it became increasingly difficult to move your right hand. It was now fully violet, poisoned from the curse, only the fingertips retaining their normal skin color. The discomfort grew more evident with each squeeze of the icing bag. A sharp twinge shot up your arm.

"This all sucks," you slammed your hand down on the counter, the pain momentarily overshadowing. "What are we even doing here?"

Your voice echoed in the room. Maki and Nobara looked at you. In the midst of your frustration, your phone buzzed, breaking the heavy silence that had settled in the room. You glanced at the screen. It was Megumi.

"We're all okay. Might have a lead on the sorcerer. Don't worry too much."

Reading the words, a wave of relief washed over you. They were safe, for now. But at the same time, a surge of frustration and anxiety welled up within you. Why hadn't he said more? Why hadn't Satoru called? Where were they even? Did they sleep enough? Eat enough?

You hated that you couldn't do anything for them. That you were left behind; unable to do anything. The idea of baking gingerbread cookies for their return now felt like a cruel joke. Your arm throbbed heavily. You grabbed it and wished you could rip it off.

"That's it. We're going outside," Nobara announced.

Before you could protest, she was already ushering you and Maki out of the room. The cold air hit you as you stepped outside, the school grounds blanketed in a thick layer of snow. Nobara led you both to the training ground; the snow crunching under your feet.

There, she hastily thrust bows into your hands. "We're going to let it all out," she declared, setting up targets across the field. You looked at the bow in your hands, then at Maki, who seemed equally surprised by Nobara's sudden initiative.

Nobara had quickly sketched out caricatures of curses on pieces of paper. She diligently hung them on the targets, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She turned to you with a mischievous grin. "Should I draw a Gojo target too?"

You had no idea if it was a joke or if she was serious.

"Or maybe Megumi?" she continued.

"Neither," you responded just as your first arrow whistled through the air, narrowly missing Nobara and embedding itself in the target. "Yeah," Maki's bow followed closely. "Let's just focus on these," she urged.

You took your position. Drawing the bowstring back, you felt the tension in your muscles despite the pain, the cold air biting at your cheeks. Releasing the arrow, you watched as it flew across the field, striking the target with a satisfying thud.

That was much better than making fucking gingerbread.

Draw. Aim. Release. Again. Draw. Aim. Release. Again. After several rounds, you all paused, catching your breath in the crisp winter air. Nobara, retrieving her arrows, turned to you with a smirk. "You're pretty good at this. Sure you don't want to put a Gojo target up there? Might be therapeutic."

You couldn't help but smile. "No, thanks. I think I'm good without imagining I'm shooting at him."

Maki chuckled, joining in. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind a few rounds at a Gojo target myself. Just for stress relief, of course."

"You know," Nobara said as she nocked another arrow, "—this could be our new training regimen. Anger management through archery."

"Seems effective," you agreed, feeling a bit more relaxed as you lined up another shot.

Maki nodded, releasing another arrow. "Definitely better than meditation or whatever else they try to make us do. I prefer action."

Arrows flew, one after the other, finding their mark with satisfying thuds. The rhythm of drawing, aiming, and releasing had become almost meditative—a much-needed distraction. In a fleeting moment between one arrow's release and the next, you paused. The bow lowered in your hands. "Satoru asked me to marry him."

The statement hung in the air. Nobara and Maki froze. Their jaws might as well have hit the snow-covered ground.

"What? Fucking Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer on earth, proposed to you?"

Nobara blinked a few times, as if to clear her vision or perhaps to make sure she hadn't misheard. "Wait, wait, wait. Are we talking about the same Satoru? The one with blindfold and white hair? That Satoru Gojo??"

You raised your bow again and aimed. "Yeah, that very Satoru Gojo."

A moment of silence passed before both of them burst out laughing. "Wow," Nobara managed to say between giggles. "This is—I mean, congratulations, but wow!"

Maki shook her head, still chuckling. "I guess this means our little archery session here is technically your bachelorette party, huh?"

"Wait," Nobara halted. "You did say'yes', right?"

You paused, your bow still raised. "I—I didn't get the chance to answer. We were interrupted."

Nobara's eyes widened. "You left Satoru Gojo hanging? Now that's something I'd have paid to see."

Maki cocked her head. "But you're going to say yes, right? I mean, it's Satoru Gojo we're talking about."

"I guess I should," you said, lowering the bow. "Shouldn't I?"

"You'd be stupid not to," Nobara shook her head in disbelief. "He's been mooning over you with those puppy eyes. I swear, I've never seen him like that with anyone else."

"True," Maki agreed. "Even I noticed it, and I usually don't pay attention to these things."

Curiosity gleamed in Nobara's eyes as she leaned in closer. "Okay, but you have to tell us how he did it. Satoru Gojo proposing must have been something out of the ordinary, right?"

You hesitated. Remembering that he had literally asked you to marry him, to stop you doing stupid things. Like trying to kill yourself.  "It doesn't really matter how he asked," you said. "At this rate, with the poison spreading, I might not even make it to the end of the week."

Nobara stopped smiling.

A sudden wave of powerful cursed energy sent shivers down your spine. You turned.

"Are you the one afflicted with the curse?"

Yuta Okkotsu approached you, a figure you recognized only from photos and the stories told by others. His presence was commanding, his gaze intense but not unkind. 

You nodded.

Yuta's eyes briefly scanned the visible violet hue on your skin. "Gojo-Sensei and the others might have cornered the sorcerer responsible. I'm heading out to back them up," his tone suggesting urgency.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause. "I'm coming with you."

Nobara and Maki immediately tensed. "You should stay here," Maki said firmly, looking at you. "It's safer, and we can't risk the curse getting worse."

But you were resolute. "I can't just sit here and do nothing while they're out there because of me. I need to be there."

Yuta observed you closely. His expression unreadable as he surveyed your exposed, discolored skin, now riddled with pulsing veins. Anticipating his words, you cut in firmly, "Don't pity me. I can still handle myself."

Yuta paused, considering the situation. His gaze met yours. "I'm not in a position to give you orders," he finally said, a subtle nod indicating his acceptance of your decision.

Maki exhaled sharply. "This is insane. You know that, right?" She crossed her arms. "You can barely stand without faltering every few steps."

They were right. The poison coursing through your veins was taking its toll, sapping your strength and clouding your judgement. But the harsh reality was that, with the poison's relentless spread, it might already be too late to make a difference, no matter what actions you took. 

At that moment, a sharp, icy sensation shot through your face, as if a cold spear were tracing a slow, deliberate path along the right side of your jaw. The curse crept with an unnerving stealth; silently marking its territory on your skin.

"I know the risks," you replied.

Yuta regarded you for a moment longer before turning towards the exit. "We should move quickly then. Time is of the essence."

As you followed him, Nobara and Maki reluctantly fell into step beside you. "I now know why Gojo always says you're stubborn,"  Nobara said, a small smile played on her lips. "But I like that about you."

****

You were adrift in a sea of thoughts, unaware of your surroundings or the passage of time. The journey's duration—whether it was an hour or twenty—blurred into a haze. Is Satoru even still alive? Are Megumi and Yuji all right? Are they hurt?

Stepping out of the car, you mechanically followed Yuta. Smoke and ash filled the air.

It was strange.

As you moved closer to the site, the poison within you seemed to spread more rapidly; weaving its way through your veins with a newfound urgency. Each step felt like it stirred the curse to life, hastening its spread. The world around you tilted and swayed, blurring the lines between reality and haze. The surroundings felt surreal, almost detached from reality.

Step.

The curse spread further.

Step.

The pain intensified.

The curse's relentless spread soon reached parts of your face, its insidious presence clouding your vision. It enveloped your body to such an extent that walking became an excruciating effort.

Maki and Nobara were quick to notice. They came to your aid, each taking an arm to support you, to help you—to help you walk. It's pathetic.

No got for anything after all. 

So stupid.

Breathing became torturous. Your lungs seared with every breath, as if scorched by the curse itself. How much time remained for you? Hours? Minutes?

Spilled blood traced marble patterns into white snow.

Amidst this turmoil, one hope clung tenaciously to your heart—the desire to see Satoru one last time. To lay eyes on him, if only once more.

"What the hell—" Nobara stopped.

You found yourself on the precipice of what used to be a bustling part of the city, now reduced to a desolate battlefield. Buildings lay in ruins. Debris littered the ground. Smoke curled into the sky. Nothing human moved. The only sounds were the wind rustling through shattered glass and the soft falling of snow.

It smelled like burnt flesh.

For a long time, none of you could speak. You looked at Yuta, but his face was a mask.

"What the fuck did happen?" Maki inquired, her voice edged as she surveyed the destruction.

Yuta remained silent, his expression grave. Somehow, you felt that he knew only too well what had happened. When he turned to you, his gaze confirmed your thoughts without a word.

"Did Gojo do this?" Maki pressed.

"Do you know someone else, able to erase a whole city?" Nobara said dryly. She covered her nose, trying to shield herself from the acrid stench of burnt flesh that permeated the air.

"The civilians were evacuated in time," Yuta remarked, as if he sensed your unspoken fear of seeing corpses.

You remained motionless. It was a long time before you remembered how to breathe. The devastation before you too horrific to fully process. Your eyes watered. The stench was overwhelming.

Maybe it was the poison, maybe it was your mind—clouding your senses—trying to protect you; protect you from the harsh reality of what Satoru Gojo—the man you loved—was capable of.

You always saw it. Always knew that he was ruthless when he had no one holding him back. He loved the fray. Just as much as you did.

Suddenly, cutting through the haze, a familiar voice called out your name. 

Then a face. 

Then a smile.

Megumi.

Megumi.

The pain seemed to vanish. 

You rushed towards him; heart pounding like a wildfire. His eyes widened in shock at your appearance, but you barely registered his reaction. All you wanted in that moment was to feel the warmth of his presence against your increasingly cold skin.

Your nearly caused him to stumble as you desperately clung to him. "Easy," he managed to say, his voice strained with effort. He was wounded, more severely than you had ever seen him. The sight of his injuries almost made you cry.

"Are you okay? Are you fine?" you asked quickly, your words tumbling out in a rush of worry and relief; his presence a painfully missed sense of comfort amidst the chaos.

"I'm fine," he reassured you, pulling you closer, his arms around you. You could feel the steady beat of his heart—feel the warmth of his presence—smell his scent. It felt like home. You wanted to stand forever in his embrace.

"I'm more worried about you," he said. Gently, he pushed you back just enough to take a closer look at your skin. His eyes darkened. "Fuck, why is it spreading so fast?"

"It started accelerating as soon as we got closer," Nobara added, her voice close behind you as she moved nearer.

Megumi's gaze shifted sharply to Yuta, his expression hardening. "We have to finish this now. We need to take him down."

What?

"You haven't killed him yet?" Maki echoed your thoughts.

Megumi averted his gaze. His arm still securely around your waist. You looked up at him. "Gojo has him cornered. He believes this sorcerer knows something crucial, something that could end all of this."

"And that's worth more than her life?" Nobara shouted.

"We didn't realize the poison had progressed this far," Megumi admitted, his tone laced with regret.

"You never thought of asking?" Nobara accused Megumi.

Wait.

If he's still alive, that means—

"I need to see him," you cut Nobara off, addressing Megumi. "Take me to that sorcerer."

"Are you out of your mind? We should just call Gojo and have him take care of it. In your condition, you might not even get there."

"I don't care!"

Megumi shook his head hastily. "We can't take that risk."

"Don't treat me like fragile glass, Megumi. Not now."

"Hard when you look like you're dying."

You paused for a second.

Leaning in closer, you lowered your voice so only Megumi could hear. "Megumi, If you have even the slightest feeling for me, you'll take me to him."

He looked tired. He looked sad. He looked scared. All at once, as he looked down at you. "You're asking too much," he said, his voice hoarse.

"And I know you hate me for it."

It was unfair of you. You knew it. You saw it.

However, the urgency of the situation was clear in your mind. If they killed the sorcerer, you might never get the answers you needed. You weren't stupid enough to think that Satoru would wait a second to kill the sorcerer when they called him—when they told him what state you were in. You had to be there first.

Megumi's eyes searched yours for a moment. "Then let's go."

****

The screaming was the first thing you heard. 

Then the sound of punches. 

Then blood spitting onto the ground.

It hurt—seeing him like that fucking hurt. 

Blood stained his clothes. His white hair tinted red. Scratches across his arms. His frame marred by injuries that seemed impossible.

Amidst the debris and the remains of the battle, Satoru Gojo stood, his presence dominating the space. He was interrogating the sorcerer—no, torturing the sorcerer. His voice cut through the din with a sharp, merciless edge as he landed another bow on the sorcerer's face. Bones gave way to his force.

You, too, had lost yourself in battle. You had gone further than you should have, had hurt others when you should have stopped.  But this—

You tried not to cry.

It was odd. It was odd that Satoru did not seem to be aware of your presence as you approached. He always had an uncanny ability to sense you, often joking about being able to detect your 'reckless ass' even if you were on another continent.

The fact that he hadn't noticed you yet was unsettling. He was so lost in madness that it eclipsed everything else—even you.

And then Yuji. 

Yuji looked defeated. As if he had seen death himself. He sat on the remains of what looked like a building, his head down, staring into nothingness. It broke your heart to see him like that. He didn't deserve this. Not him. Not Megumi. No one.

It was your fault. Your battle. Not theirs.

"Satoru," you whispered, blood slowly trickling from the corner of your mouth as you spoke. Megumi's hand was still around your waist, supporting you as you felt the last grains of your strength slipping away. Time was running out. You felt it.

In an instant, as if jolted from a trance, Satoru's head snapped in your direction. His eyes wide in terror with a color you'd never seen before. He was by your side in a heartbeat. Swiftly, he took you from Megumi's supportive hold.

"Oh love," he pressed you tightly against his chest, as if he feared you would vanish at any second. It almost hurt. The usual barrier of his infinity seemed to falter, his cursed energy swirling chaotically around him. His fingers trembled as they brushed against your skin, tracing the path of the poison that marred your skin. 

"What happened here?" you asked.

"There were so many—too many." His words quivered in the air, a tone of vulnerability you had never heard from him before.

Your heart ached at the sight of him. "I'm sorry, Satoru—," you said gently. In that moment, he seemed more in need of saving than you. You struggled to maintain composure, the pain in his eyes nearly derailing your resolve. "—but you need to help me now."

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. But your attention was swiftly drawn to something behind him.

Behind Satoru, amidst the wreckage, the bruised sorcerer's gaze lifted to meet yours. He sat propped against the remnants of a building. Nanami beside him, holding him in place. Despite his bruised and bloodied state, the sorcerer's bloodshot eyes gleamed with a disturbing glee. His lips curled into a smile. He smiled. He mocked you.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You clenched involuntarily.

Satoru's gaze flickered briefly to the sorcerer, then back to you. 

"Kill him!" Satoru shouted over his shoulder at Nanami.

Nanami, poised to deliver a fatal blow.

"No!" you screamed, louder than Satoru, pushing yourself out of his grip. You tried to run towards the sorcerer. But Satoru was quick to stop you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back.

Nanami's arm cocked back, ready to strike at any second.

"Don't!"

"What are you saying?" Satoru abruptly swung you around, yanking at your shoulders, nearly making you cry out in pain. "You're dying!" he shouted. Then he turned to Nanami again. "Kill him!!"

You struggled against Satoru's grip. Fingers digging into his skin. "Fuck! Satoru, let me go!"

Nanami's arm snapped forward with blinding speed.

"There's a mole in your school."

Nanami froze. Everyone froze.

The sorcerer spoke. His teeth were stained red.

"There's a mole in your school, leaking every move you make," he rasped.

You tried to push Satoru desperately aside, but it was in vain. "Who is it?" you demanded of the sorcerer.

It was a trap. Of course it was. Every second he gained was a second you lost. But you played along. Either it was the poison that will kill you, or these people who were after your head. It didn't matter.

"Kill him, Nanami!"

Yet, Nanami hesitated.

Satoru moved to end the sorcerer himself. You reached out. Your hands grabbed Satoru's collar. "I swear to God, Satoru, if you won't let me have my way, I'll never marry you!" Your voice cracked, spilling blood as you screamed at him.

Satoru's eyes widened in shock. It was unfair. But right now, you had other worries. He cursed under his breath. His hold on you tightened as you almost fainted in his arms. Yet you persisted. "Who is it?"

The sorcerer coughed. "You're looking in the wrong direction."

He's trying to buy time.

"Nanami!" Satoru yelled again. His gaze sweeping over Yuta, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and Maki. They stood motionless. Either terror or tears filled their eyes.

"Who the hell is it?" You shouted as you clung to Satorus' arms, which held you back.

"You should really pay a visit to—" The sorcerer, choking on his own blood, struggled to answer.

The venomous curse within you was killing you. You could feel it. Your lungs burned as if filled with molten lead. Your vision started to dim, the edges darkening, closing in like the final curtain of a tragic play. Still you pushed further.

"Say it, you asshole!"

Then everything went black. 

But it wasn't the poison. 

Satoru had knocked you out.

The last sound you heard was the slicing of flesh.

➸ continue reading part seven

a/n: thanks for reading and have a lovely day or night! <3

#gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru smut #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro #jjk fanfic

[yeyinde]

I'm gonna mention this to you because you also like slashers and COD so I imagine there's a little monster fucking in there possibly? But god imagine Ghost as a non-human tho. Just like an actual beast of a man. Sharp canines, solid black eyes, bigger than what you had thought possible for a human. You barely notice when you first start because you don't want to inconvenience your Lieutenant. But things start sticking out. When he's not working, you notice the way he moves is like he's stalking something. Sometimes he huffs like a wolf. You make eye contact on a mission and really finally look, but there's nothing there. Just glossy black.

You're getting fucked by Soap in your cot, on top and facing a wall and he clicks his tongue and something moves behind you. Ghost steps out of the shadows, panting like a dog, and Soap is like "you don't mind if he joins do ya?"

Also calling him a good boy and patting his head 😌

I just think it would be hot and would explain some of the ways people write him as if he's an inhuman creature

sooooo on board with all of this!!!!

i try to be sneaky about it but i've described this man as a Cimmerian not just for the darkness aspect but the mythos too since it kinda fits him (and i love relating things that have no right to be related).

Ghost AU where he's some primordial being. a monster. a werewolf, perhaps. it has so much potential. i kept thinking about it, and this kinda got away from me. sorry!

When you join the 141, there is a heaviness in the atmosphere. A strange, stifling weight you can't make sense of. Tension. An unease. 

They tell you you're full of life when you walk in the room, smiling at them—but it sounds like a curse. They whisper it, as if they're afraid of speaking it aloud. Eyes filled with a gravity you can't begin to understand. 

You turn to leave, and they say stay away from him.

The him in this equation is made known when you set your eyes on the behemoth they call Ghost. 

When you cross his path, he stops completely. The world around you falls dead. Deafening silence. His eyes are a perfect polynya when he gazes at you. His head tips back, baleen lines stretching out. And then breathes in deep. Scenting the air.

His broad chest expands with it. A rumble sounds from low in his chest.

No man can be like this. 

(He was once a man, Soap muses. Maybe. Probably. Called him Simon. Simon Riley.

How can someone probably be a man?

His eyes are grave, shrouded in the mourning fog that sits low on the tombstones. You don't wanna know, bonnie.)

They tell you little about him, but you notice things. They keep their distance, and drop their chins when men go missing. No one looks. No one says a word. 

They're just—

Gone. Forgotten. 

Everything they once were is hidden away in a closet that can barely shut. 

Don't worry about it, hen. 

Just happens sometimes, mate. 

Don't go sticking your nose where it shouldn't be. 

You should listen. Heed their advice. 

But he's enthralling. A being made entirely of death. 

A strange feeling that settles low in your chest. There is a yearning inside of you that wants to know everything about this behemoth shrouded in tenebrose—a siren's call, beckoning you closer. It calls to you in the dead of night. spools over your thoughts until your head is full of him, him, him—

He's an enigma. A mystery. 

And then you see in battle. A shadow. A myth. No man can spill that much blood. 

Dread spools thick on your guts. A man like him should not exist in this moral realm. He does not belong. 

You turn to Soap—a man (human: flesh and bone, real)—but it does little to stem the fever inside.

He catches you when you sneak out of his room, smelling of alder and sex. 

He stares at you. Midnight hour, devils night—the warnings are tucked into the recesses of those unfathomable depths. Fear pools, knots inside of you.

"Have fun, pet?"

There is a chill in his voice, a growl deep in the pits of his being that resound through the corridor and make your bones shake. 

He stares at you—a greedy, covetous tinge in those Stygian depths. 

You're playing a dangerous game. Waving your breakable fingers in front of the maw of a starving beast. 

Stay away, Soap says. You really don't know what you're getting into, bonnie.

You smile. I know. I will. (Liar)

Something breaks. Curiosity. Obsession. Your neck prickles when he's close. You hear a rush of water when those black eyes pierce you; the call of a river thick with the stench of death. You think of the Styx when he turns to you. Hands shackled to your wrist; grip tight. no escape. terror blooms inside of you.

run run run run

"Watch your step, rookie."

Is that a warning in his voice? Why does it sound so—

Beguiling. Taunting. He gets under your skin. spellbinds you. You can't stop thinking about him.

You feel him in the shadows. Liquid black; death. Sometimes, you look at him, and you think you hear a hiss in the back of your head when your feet move, bringing you closer. An augury. a portant. 

Aeons ago, they warned naïve wanderers like you to be wary of the quietus in the fog.

—he leads you not into salvation—

You find him waiting for you, covered in blood and reeking of death. His head lifts. The Styx in his eyes. Damnation in the tilt of his head. He'll be your ruin. Your demise.

Your name falls from his lips.

(Too lost in the magnetism, that primal draw that brings you closer and closer, you miss the anathema that taints the word.)

His hand reaches out to you. Deadly, dangerous. Each breath he takes rumbles the ground around you. He smells of hellfire and rot. Sulphur. Ichor. It leaks into your lungs, your marrow. 

You're drenched in the ashes of Zaqqum.

A distant, almost atavistic warning rears in the back of your head tells you to run. But why? He's just a man. Just your Lieutenant.

Your fate is sealed the moment you place your fingers in the cup of his palm.

—but into perdition—

#asks #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley x you #this got outta hand #sorry op

[vienssunshine]

What do you really want, you psychopath?

pairing: Josh Washington x fem reader nsfw word count: 6.7k content warning: blood, violence, needles, manipulation, non-con elements (nonconsensual filming, deception) author's note: My obsession with Until Dawn returns every summer like clockwork.

You hope he's doing okay.

It's the only thought sticking in your mind as you pace on the cable car platform. After everything last year, after him shutting down, not able to talk to anyone, you hope that now, a year later, things are at least better than they were. He has mentioned a therapist, so it's a little comforting knowing he's getting the professional help he needs.

You lean your hands against the wooden railing and admire the snowy landscape, trying to push Josh out of your mind. Instead, you shift your focus to Sam, because where the hell is she? Sam insisted on you both being the first ones up the mountain, but it's fifteen minutes past the time you agreed to meet and she has yet to arrive.

Your phone buzzes with a message from your friend:

"Hey! So sorry but traffic is terrible and I'm gonna be a bit. I don't want to keep you waiting out in the cold so take the cable car up and I'll see you up there!"

Turning your phone off, you sigh. Things are going to be awkward this year. Walking in with Sam would have eased your nerves about seeing everyone again, but it looks like you aren't being afforded that comfort anymore. Worse comes to worst, you can spend the evening holed up in your guest room with your favorite book.

You step into the cable car and try to ignore how the whole thing creaks and sways with the wind. The Washingtons are rich, so they must have the money to get this thing safety checked. Right?

The music you play in your earbuds somewhat drowns out the loud groans of the car as it travels up the snowy peak. Through the frosty window, you can see what looks like a blizzard rolling in. Good thing you'll be able to hunker down in Josh's cabin.

At the top of the mountain, the doors open and you see him, Josh Washington, standing alone in the snow. After all this time, the sight takes you aback; he seems to be an apparition, not fully there.

"Look what the cat dragged in," he says, hands in the pockets of his winter jacket, "Well, I guess it was the cable car, not a cat." His lazy grin is unshakable as he speaks.

"Hi Josh," you respond, fighting the smile creeping up on your face.

"Here, let me grab that for you," he says, stepping forward and helping you out of the straps of your North Face backpack. He swings it over his shoulder and beckons you up the path.

You thank him, bashful, and follow. The trail is white with snow and dimly lit, a few lanterns hanging from the fences, their wood corroded from the harsh winters before.

"So, is anyone else here yet?" you ask, pulling your gloves on. The wind feels stronger here than it did at the bottom of the mountain, it's icy and cutting into the skin of your fingers.

"Nah, the other party people aren't due for another hour or two." He leans in with an evil grin, "So it'll be just us for a while, scared?"

You giggle, pushing the man away from you, "I don't know if I'll survive all of your ultra-corny jokes, Josh."

"Yeah? Then, any requests for what they should put on your tombstone?" he asks, giving you a lighthearted push back.

"Shut up." You shake your head, smiling, before stealing a glance at your watch: 8:03 p.m. "Actually, I guess I won't have to survive for long since I'm on time. So everyone should be due soon."

"Aww, come on," Josh says, "You know they're all gonna be late."

You punch Josh in the arm and he fakes serious injury, "Don't talk about our friends like that, I trust in their punctuality. Sam, our good, timely friend even took the initiative to get us to come early."

Josh looks around in an exaggerated manner, squinting into the dark forest, "Do you see Sammy here? Or anyone else? 'Cause I don't. Face it, they're all gonna be late. Sam at least had the decency to give me a heads-up about it."

"Yeah, the traffic's terrible apparently."

"Damn, I guess she's gonna be even later then."

You furrow your brow, "What do you mean?"

"Sam told me to expect her around 9. So, if there's traffic, it might not be until like 9:30 or 10. Right?"

"Wait, when did she tell you to expect her at 9?"

"Uh...a few days ago, maybe?" Josh glances at you sideways, "Something up?"

Confused at the discrepancy between Sam and Josh's stories, you wrack your brain. Why did Sam want you to go early with her but tell Josh she was going to show up late?

You clench your fist, Sam wanted you and Josh alone. She's known you've had a crush on him for so long and has been relentless in encouraging you to go for it. This must be her fucked up way of forcing you to.

Josh studies you, still puzzled. Staring ahead, you notice the silhouette of the lodge at the end of the path. You weigh your options: should you be honest about what you think Sam is up to or just let it go?

You elect to give Sam a stern talking-to later, reassuring Josh by saying, "Ah it's nothing." You point to the cabin, "Hey, we're almost there!"

He follows your finger and gazes at the lodge ahead, "You're right, soon we can party all night long," he says with a mischievous smirk.

You lumber up the old stairs and find that the door to the lodge is unable to be opened.

"Ah, shit. The lock's frozen," Josh observes.

"Is there another way we can get in? Or get the door unfrozen? I'm not gonna lie, I am freezing my buns off out here."

Yeah, you'd like to spend more time with Josh, but not in nearly subzero temperatures.

"Now, now, you know Josh wouldn't keep a pretty girl outside freezing her buns off for long. Wait here, I have an idea."

Josh hurries off behind the lodge, leaving you on the porch, arms wrapped around your body in a fruitless attempt to warm yourself. You look around at the dark woods surrounding the cabin. It's a dense forest, filled with gnarly trees that look like they're twisting into one another in a warped dance.

A small trace of movement pulls your attention, something shifting its position in the tree line. Anxiety begins to pour into your stomach and you look around for Josh who is nowhere to be seen. Is something—or someone—out there? You step forward, placing your hands on the railing and leaning over to get a better look when the door behind you flies open.

"Honey, you're home!" Josh cries out.

"Josh!" you respond in a harsh whisper, "Keep it down!"

Josh laughs, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the house, "For who? No one is out here besides me," he points to himself, "and you," he presses his finger to your chest, right beneath your zipper.

His small touch flusters you, bringing a welcomed warmth to your cheeks. It makes you forget about whatever you saw in the woods. Must have been a bird.

He leads you into the living room and motions with a bow for you to sit on the couch. "Now, if the lovely lady would allow me, I'd adore starting a fire to warm her freezing buns."

Assuming a janky upper-class accent, you respond, "Why, of course, fine gentleman. I suppose that will suffice to toast said freezing buns."

You both laugh, and it makes you forget how cold you are. It's nice to kid around like old times. Like times before Hannah and Beth ran off into the woods and were never seen again. Things were easier then, it was easier to make jokes, easier to laugh.

You sink further into the couch as Josh piles wood into the fireplace.

"Josh?"

"Yeah?" He throws one last log in and pulls out a matchbook from his jeans.

"I'm happy to see you again. It's been a while."

"Too long," he agrees, striking and lighting the match.

You shift in your seat on the couch. "I guess I wanted to ask, are you okay?"

He freezes, and the match dies in his hand.

Shit, you went too far. What were you thinking, asking him how he is doing on the anniversary of the death of his little sisters? You begin to ramble, "Josh, I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that if you don't-"

"It's fine," he interrupts, "I'm fine."

You lean forward on the couch, "It's okay if you're not. Honestly, I wouldn't be."

He strikes the match again and lights the kindling as he talks. "I know that having our friends up here is going to help. It really means a lot to me that everyone is coming back to spend this weekend together."

The flickering flame nestled in the piled-on logs is growing in size, blossoming into a healthy, cozy fire. You can feel its warmth on your cheeks already.

Josh ambles over to the couch, sitting next to you—sitting very closely next to you. You almost scooch away, but decide to stay still.

Josh turns his body towards yours. "It means a lot to me that you came."

It's hard to keep your composure; his words feel too intimate and, god, his arm is resting on the couch behind you, one movement away from wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you close.

"Thanks, Josh," you force out, looking down at your hands. Your fingers are anxiously knotted together, a clear sign that your body is short-circuiting at his proximity.

He follows your gaze, watching you fidget in your lap. He then moves in, resting a hand on yours to quiet your restless fingers and placing the other beneath your jaw, using his knuckle to gently move your chin up so you face him.

You're freaking out. This is crazy. Why is he touching you like this?

"I-uh...well..." you stammer.

"Do you like me?" he whispers.

You freeze up; what do you even say to that? There's no way you can tell him you've had an embarrassingly unmanageable crush on him since the day you met. It could blow up the entire friendship. But, it's possible that he feels the same way you do, isn't it? His face is mere inches from yours!

Unless he doesn't feel the same way. After countless cruel and mean-spirited pranks, this friend group has sown distrust into every fiber of your body. You want to trust Josh with your true feelings, but can you?

Your mouth gapes, unable to articulate the paralyzing swirl of desire and fear coursing through you.

So you stay silent, and he retreats from your personal space, leaning back against the couch cushion, "Don't worry about answering now, I have a feeling everyone will know each other a lot better after tonight."

Your brow furrows at the crypticness of his statement, but before you can think about it too much, Josh's phone vibrates, and he gives you a knowing smirk, "Speak of the devil."

He gets off the couch and answers the phone while you try to keep your brain from spinning out of control. He was so close to you, which was really scary, but at the same time, it felt really good.

Josh teases the recipient on the other line about Ashley, so you take a guess that he's speaking to Chris.

He ends the phone call and turns to you, "Gotta go pick up the kids at the end of the trail, wanna come with?"

You press your lips together, "Um, I think I'll hang back. Y'know, unpack and stuff."

"Suit yourself," he shrugs, grabbing a flashlight and exiting the cabin.

Still in a daze, you head down the dark hallway and find your guest room. You unpack your clothes into the wooden dresser and throw your diary onto the patchwork quilt atop your bed. The bedroom is a familiar space to you, but it doesn't bring the comfort familiarity typically does.

You take some time to journal out your feelings, trying to work out the complex emotions that come with being back at this lodge after last year. Then, you take some time to write about Josh. How he had possibly come on to you tonight. How you wanted it to go further.

Voices begin to fill up the halls, so you leave your bedroom and journal to join everyone out in the living room. The fire is now roaring and Sam has arrived, so you go to greet her.

You expected everyone to be making an effort to get along considering the reason you're all up here, but since Josh has to separate Jess and Emily by sending Jess and Mike to the guest cabin, it's clear that no one is putting in the work.

The rest of the group swiftly and awkwardly disperse, each couple running off to deal with something whether it be finding a lost bag or a Ouija board. Whether they're making excuses so they don't have to stick around, you don't know, but it hurts to realize that your friend group will probably never recover from last year.

For a moment, Josh looks defeated, but he quickly plasters on his usual devil-may-care smirk.

Sam heads upstairs for a bath, but not before you pull her aside and whisper-shout about her audacious set-up. She laughs it off, and you both agree she can make it up to you with a card game in your room after she washes off.

Still feeling weird about Josh and the exchange earlier, you elect to read in your room instead of hanging out with him. Only, when you go back to the guest room to grab your book, you can't find it in your bag. What you don't notice is how your journal has also disappeared from its place on top of your bed.

"Hey, Josh?" You walk back into the living room to see Josh as well as Chris and Ashley sitting in front of a Ouija board, "Oh hi, Chris, Ashley. Have any of you seen my book?"

"There's a bunch of books around here," Chris shares unhelpfully.

Josh turns toward you, "What does it look like?"

You position your hands to give them a visual aid, "About this big? Green? Signed by the author on the inside?"

Your friends stare at you, blank, and you let your hands fall to your sides.

"Are you sure you packed it?" Ashley asks.

"Yes, I'm sure, and it's special so I really need to find it."

"Maybe it fell out when we were walking up?" Josh suggests.

"Ugh. You're probably right. I'm gonna go check," you say, zipping up your coat.

"I'll go with you," Josh offers, about to stand up before you say, "No, it's...it's fine."

"Are you sure you don't want some alone time with Josh?" Chris teases. Ashley laughs a little too hard.

With a grin, Josh adds on, "What if there are some baddies out there?"

You offer a weak smile, "I'll be fine. Like you said, there's no one else up here but us this weekend. Besides, Emily and Matt are down there getting a bag or whatever."

"Okay," Josh says, throwing his hands up in defeat.

You take a flashlight and head down the trail, squinting as the snow comes down heavier and heavier. After following your friends' footsteps all the way down the path, you spot your book on the bank of a narrow creek a little ways off the trail. You're not sure how it got there but are just happy to have it again.

Brushing off the light dusting of snow atop the book's cover, you're pleased to realize that the weather hasn't damaged the book at all. You're less pleased when you hear an arguing couple headed your way. You silently curse; you had hoped to make your journey as short as possible to avoid this dysfunctional pair.

They turn the corner and Matt sees you, calling out your name with a wave. Emily stares ahead with her arms crossed.

"Hey, guys!" you respond.

They walk up to join you, but your presence doesn't make an impact as they continue bickering all the way back up to the lodge. You succeed in tuning them out until Chris and Ashley appear out of the snowfall.

Your mouth falls open as you take the scene in: Ashley is curled into Chris's chest and her clothes are soaked with blood.

You hurry over to them, "Are you guys okay? What happened?"

Emily gasps, "Ashley, whose blood is that?"

Ashley lets out a strangled sob, clinging onto Chris.

"Chris, what happened?" Matt asks.

"J-Josh," Chris chokes out.

You take a step forward, "Josh what, Chris?"

"He's gone. It's all my fault. There's...there's a psycho on the mountain."

His words are like cold hands that squeeze your heart. There's no way.

"What did you say?" Emily cries, "There's like a serial killer up here?"

Ashley begins sobbing uncontrollably, "Yes! There's a killer and he's gonna kill us all if we don't get out of here!"

"It's okay, it's all gonna be okay," Matt says, and he turns to Emily, "We need to get help."

"But Sam," you interrupt, "Sam's still at the lodge!"

"You're right," Chris says, "We need to get everyone back together first."

"But we also need help!" Emily says, "If there's some psycho up here, I'm not just gonna go back and run into his arms!"

"Here," you say, "You and Matt go get help while Chris, Ashley, and I go back to the lodge to get Sam and everyone else."

"Fine!" Emily responds, "But we need to go, now!"

You split off into your separate directions. Ashley and Chris decide to check the upstairs bathroom while you hurry to check the guest rooms.

You fly down the hallway, opening and searching all the rooms lining the corridor. When you get to your room, you close your eyes and crack open the door, praying that when you open your eyes, your friend will be there, cards in hand, ready to play your make-up game.

"Sam?" you cry out. Nothing.

You check the closet and under the bed, thinking she could be hiding but still come up empty.

You're about to turn around to go check the rest of the rooms when a large hand clamps around your mouth, slamming your back into a hard chest so another arm can ambush you, wrapping around your waist and holding you still.

"Looking for your friend?" a distorted voice asks. Your eyes widen. Shit. This must be the psycho Ashley and Chris were talking about.

You begin to thrash against the body behind you, desperate to do anything to avoid whatever fate Josh had suffered. Your fight does nothing but make the arms around you constrict, the strength of the maniac locking you in place, pressed against their body.

"I wouldn't be difficult, if I were you," the voice states, and you're frightened into compliance when the maniac presses a syringe of mystery liquid up to your neck. You whimper against his glove.

"Now, now, there's no need to be scared," he tucks the syringe away and begins stroking your hair, "As long as you behave, you'll be in good hands."

Tears well up in your eyes and you suppress the urge to fight back again.

He seems lost in thought for a moment as he uses his gloved fingers to play with your hair, but shortly regains his focus, "If you promise to keep quiet, I won't have to use that syringe I showed you earlier," he chuckles, the sound metallic with the voice changer, before adding, "Not that anyone would hear you or be able to help."

You gasp, are Chris and Ashley okay? Is Sam?

He looks down at you, and you can see a part of the mask he's wearing in your peripheral vision. "Can you do that for me? Be nice and quiet like a good little kitten?" As he speaks, he slowly pulls down the zipper of your coat, exposing your tight v-neck shirt.

You press your eyes shut and give a curt nod. It's best to just go along with what he says, you want to try to make it out of this alive.

The man releases the hand over your mouth, and you make an effort to keep from breaking down in tears. The psycho takes a step back and away as you manually even your breathing.

"Sit on the bed and face me," he says.

You take a few uncertain steps forward, as though you were walking on a lurching boat, and sit on the patchwork quilt, cramming yourself close to the wall behind you and pulling your knees up to your chest. You raise your chin to face your attacker and cold fear washes over you.

He's tall, built, and looks like something right out of a slasher film. He's wearing oversized overalls dirtied with dried mud and a creepy skull-like mask that covers his entire head and neck. The syringe he threatened you with pokes out of his pocket, a reminder of the consequences if you don't comply. Down by his side, his gloved hand grips a journal—your journal.

He opens your diary and begins to carelessly flip through it, "Hmmm...maybe I should tell you a bedtime story to calm you down. There's a lot of great material in here."

Your fists ball up, scrunching the fabric of the quilt beneath them. "What do you want?" you grit out. Those entries are personal, and you'd have no idea why this intruder would be interested in reading them.

Ignoring you, the psycho flips to the page you had left your bookmark in. "Look at that, a recent entry," he darkly chuckles at his discovery, "I wonder what it says."

Your lips tighten, of all entries, why did it have to be that one?

"It's nothing, just random fucking friend group shit," you say.

The psycho looks up, gazing at you for once instead of the pages in his hands. "Then you wouldn't mind me reading it, would you?"

You open your mouth, helpless, "Um, no...you don't need to-"

The maniac lumbers towards you, just a few steps away, before he begins to recite your words.

"Fuck, Josh is so hot. It's literally torture. I want to take him into one of these guest rooms and just have my way with him. I'd let him do anything he wanted too, like let him just use my body for his pleasure. Ugh, I'm getting all hot just thinking about it. It's killing me that we were literally alone, and I think he was making a move on me, but I just didn't do anything about it. But I don't know, I don't want to push it after his sisters..." the psycho trails off.

Your face burns, feeling more embarrassed than scared now, even with a potential murderer standing before you. Your words sound so much more extreme and mortifying after being read aloud. Is that what he's trying to do, humiliate you?

The psycho closes the journal, steps forward, and tosses it onto the dresser. He's close now, boots planted on the red carpet in front of the bed, just a few paces away. He's watching you, his gaze suffocating, so you avert your own, instead focusing on the area above his left shoulder.

A glint in the corner of the room, right where the ceiling meets the two adjacent walls, catches your eye.

"Nothing to say about that entry, sweetheart?" the psycho asks, standing there with his gloved hands by his side as if he has all the time in the world.

This is getting suspicious; why is he asking you about your crush instead of, I don't know, killing you? It seems like such a trivial topic for a killer to be focused on...if he actually is one. Were Chris and Ashley wrong?

You peer at the shady corner of the room and are able to make out a circular object: a black and shiny lens. Above it is a dim but steadily blinking red light. You're being filmed. With that realization, you put it together.

They're pranking you.

It started with Sam tricking you into being alone with Josh, and then Chris teasing you about him, and then Ashley and Chris putting on a hell of a show trying to convince you some psycho is running around. Now, they're trying to terrify you into confessing your feelings. It's all some stupid, immature prank where you are the butt of the joke.

A deep frown forms on your face and you unfurl your body from its curled up position on the bed. Fury begins to pulse through your body.

"Now that I think about it, I actually have plenty to say about that entry." You stand up, taking a bold stride toward the "psycho". His hand raises to the pocket the syringe sticks out of, but you continue unfazed.

"First, let me start off with the fact that I will not let you guys scare and embarrass me for your own entertainment, alright?" You're almost yelling now, and the man watches as you continue your tirade.

You stare down the camera, gesticulating wildly, "I have feelings for Josh, okay? I want to fuck Josh. Hard." You throw your hands in the air, "And you can play all these stupid little tricks you want on me but I'm not going to let you guys make me feel bad about it. I don't give a fuck about what any of you think of me."

You sigh, exasperated, and face the speechless man standing in front of you. "There you go, hope you guys got the laugh you wanted."

He observes you as you shift your weight, the creepy eyes of the mask staring uncomfortably deep into you. You fold your arms, "So you can take the mask off now, okay? The prank's over, Chris."

"It's not Chris."

You press your lips together, "Okay, then who is it, Mike?"

The psycho speaks again, but this time, the voice-changer has been turned off.

"I think you know who it is."

Your eyes widen. There's no way you just confessed to-

The psycho's gloved hands rise to his head, and his fingers hook behind his mask and bring it down, revealing Josh's smirking face.

You take a wobbly step back, your anger disintegrating and leaving you without the confidence to speak as casually as you just were.

He chuckles, amused by your surprise and confusion. "This isn't how I imagined this going, but I'm not complaining about it." He places his mask next to your journal that's on top of the dresser.

A million thoughts and feelings begin swirling around your head and body at a vertigo-inducing pace, but they are all quieted when Josh steps forward and takes your hands in his gloves.

"Josh, what...what's going on?" you ask meekly, "Where is everyone?" It feels so contradictory, but knowing it's him near you, with his hands in yours, makes you feel so safe.

"I set up a few games for them," Josh says, "They should be entertained for a bit. But yeah, it's all one big prank. Gotcha!"

It feels like he's holding back a full reply. You look up at him, searching his green eyes for a complete answer, only to be met with a warm rush to your stomach at the fact that his gaze is soft, loving, and entirely focused on you. It's easier to fall into his warm embrace than insist on knowing more about the stupid prank, so you choose to just let it go.

Josh looks down and away, “Y’know, I’ve always been into you. I’m not good with this kind of thing but…I’ve always wanted to ask you out. I never got the courage to tell you that until now.”

Your heart flutters. “I was scared to tell you too, I just didn’t know how you’d react given…everything.”

He nods, “It feels like sometimes it takes a life-or-death situation to get people to confess their true feelings. Like Chris and Ashley, it’d take a gun to their head to get either of them to spill their guts.” 

“You’re probably right,” you giggle. 

Josh leans closer to you, hands moving from yours so they can rest on the curve of your waist. His thumbs slowly stroke your sides, provoking the urge to move his hands underneath your shirt to feel the sensation unobstructed. 

“So,” he starts, his voice quieter, dripping with something darker, “Was everything you wrote in your diary true?” 

You bring your arms up so they’re around his neck, pressing your body into his. Your soft chest melds into his hard sternum and heat radiates through his overalls to warm your skin. 

You tilt your head so your lips are centimeters from his, “You mean how I wrote pages upon pages of how bad I wanted to fuck you?” 

His hands tighten, squeezing your waist, and with his chest so close to yours, you can feel his heartbeat speed up at your words. 

“Fuck,” he says, “I guess I didn’t know you wanted it as much as I have.” 

You lean forward, closing the gap between your lips and kiss him, hard. You melt into each other, bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, devoid of any negative space. One of his hands comes up to your jaw and the other travels to the small of your back, pushing you further into him. 

Threading your fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, parting your lips and allowing your tongues to push into each other's mouths. He’s a little hesitant at first, but any self-consciousness vanishes when you begin to moan breathily into your open-mouthed kisses. Thoroughly encouraged by your noises of delight, he indulges in his desire, indulges in you.

His kisses are becoming messy and desperate as he works to keep receiving your pretty little noises. He runs his hands all over your body, feeling every dip and curve, wanting to touch all of you at the same time. Each brush of his hands sends tingles up your spine and you move with him, desiring nothing more but to keep your body underneath the palms of his hands.

You allow your hands to explore too, taking them downward, past the buttons of his shirt, the large pocket of his overalls, and his belt until they reach the hardness in his pants. You rest delicate fingers on it, tracing the outline and Josh breaks from your kiss to groan. 

You let out a shaky breath, “Shit, Josh. I want this. I want you.” 

He leans down and grabs the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up and against him. Now suspended, you tighten your arms around his neck, holding onto him. Josh lays you down on the quilt and you spread your body out, relaxing into the soft fabric and the euphoric buzz your body swims in. He crawls on top of you, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your neck, and finally, to your collarbone all while you giggle and pull him close.

He hovers over you, “You know where I want to take you right?”

You laugh and point your finger into his chest, “Don’t you dare say that perverted phrase.” 

He smiles, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lock his lips and throw away the key. 

He begins to kiss your neck once more, and you squirm underneath him, overwhelmed by the sensation his warm and wet lips shock through your body. His shirt’s sleeves are rolled up, so you wrap your hands around his thick forearms to stabilize yourself. 

Josh moves the neckline of your t-shirt, kissing further down on the increasingly exposed skin. Each kiss sends heat blooming deep in your stomach, making it even harder to keep still with the waves of pleasure overtaking you. His fingers tug on the hem of your t-shirt, a silent ask for removal. You’re about to comply when the shine of the camera in the corner catches your eye once more, the lens trained directly on the bed. 

“Josh, the camera?” you ask. 

“Not on,” he mumbles, entranced by the sight and feeling of your chest. 

It’s enough reassurance for you to pull your coat and shirt off, uncovering your bra and torso. Your exposure gives you a sudden wave of self-doubt about the prank pulled on you and everyone's role in it. You still have questions since some things aren’t fitting together, but, shamefully, it’s hard to think critically when Josh’s lips feel so good against you. 

“Fuck, y’know you’re so pretty?” Josh whispers into your torso, lavishing your chest with kisses and licks as he worships your body, “All of our winter trips…s’been so hard to focus with you here. Just wanted to touch you.”

Your fingernails begin to dig into his forearms. “It was so hard for me too, Josh, I’ve had a crush on you for like ever.” He kisses just above your jeans and you let out a gasp. Your hand comes up to your mouth in an attempt to muffle your noises, but Josh pins your wrist to the bedspread. 

“Please,” he says, “I want…to hear you,” he presses another kiss to your pelvis, “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” 

“Okay,” you answer, breath hitching as he unbuttons your pants. He pulls your jeans off and throws them onto the rug. “Mmm, no fair,” you whine, using your free hand to knock one of his overall straps off his shoulder. He smiles, complying with your wishes by taking his overalls off, leaving him in his button-up and dark jeans. 

“Is this satisfactory for the princess?” he asks, waiting for you to evaluate his outfit. 

You tilt your head and grin, “Hmmm…satisfactory for now.” 

“Then, may I continue pleasuring my fair maiden?”

“You may,” you giggle. 

He kneels between your thighs and strokes his fingers along the curves of your legs, marveling at your beauty. 

“You have such a tight bod,” he says, breathless. He places a big hand on your lower stomach, “And so soft, too.”

A shy smile spreads across your face; the words from your crush make you feel tingly and giddy. “It makes me happy that you like my body,” you respond. 

“I love it,” he says, bending your knees and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, amused by how you instinctively jerk at the sensation. “You like when I kiss you there?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

Your breathing becomes uneven as he kisses further down your inner thigh, closing in on your underwear and the darkened patch where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. Josh’s rough hands slip down your thighs, holding them open and still despite the way you squirm when his lips feel a little too good. 

He pauses for a quick moment to pull off his shirt, leaving him in his dark henley top that hugs his lean build perfectly. 

“I want more off of you,” you demand, and Josh grins, stating that “Somebody’s eager.” 

His henley top comes off and shirtless Josh is between your legs once more, kissing just a few inches shy of your underwear. His hands roam as he does, gratefully squeezing the flesh of your thighs. 

He moans your name as he licks a stripe across the inside of your leg, sending the thoughts straight out of your brain. All you know is that he sounds so fucking hot when he moans your name. 

“C-can I take these off now?” he asks, placing a hand on your underwear, a twinge of desperation underlying his voice.

“Yes, please, Josh,” you gasp, thumbs already tucking into your waistband to get the burdensome fabric off as quickly as possible. 

He groans as your glistening folds are exposed, looking like he’s about to come just from the sight of you. Within seconds he’s nestled between your legs again, kissing your thighs until he gets to your soaked entrance. His hot breath fans against you, sending butterflies of anticipation up your sides. 

“I’ve been thinking about doing this for so long,” he admits before licking up your cunt with a flattened tongue, sending one of your hands down to get knotted into his hair and the other gripping onto the bedsheets for dear life. 

He continues to lick his tongue through your folds, and you begin to writhe underneath his touch, “Fuck, Josh, it…it feels really good.” 

He groans against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. Your hips kick up against your will, but Josh pushes your pelvis back down into the mattress, palm firmly placed on your lower stomach, fingers spread. 

“Can’t have you wiggling around, now can we?” he says before diving into your pussy one more. He bathes your clit with attention, holding your hips down and keeping you still every time a flick of his tongue is too powerful for you to handle. 

Your fingers dig deep into Josh’s hair, pulling it gently, which he seems to enjoy with the way he groans into you. His hips buck a little into the mattress whenever you pull tighter, so desperate to get off to you.

He watches you as he pleasures you, devouring every little reaction with his dark and hungry green eyes. When you look down, you can see that one of his hands has slipped underneath his jeans, allowing him to palm himself to your delightful reactions. 

He begins to suck on your clit, kissing and taking it into his mouth rhythmically in a way that might just drive you out of your right mind. His mouth is warm and wet against you and each shockwave of pleasure it gifts breaks you down into smaller and smaller pieces. 

Honestly, it’s frightening how the bliss consumes you in totality: thoughts, body, everything. It’s better than any smutty fantasy you scribbled down in your journal. Your imagination could have never conjured up what it feels like to have Josh go down on you.

“You’re s’hot,” he says in between licks, “And taste so good, fuck.” 

You moan, and he becomes sloppier with his movements, too overcome by desire to think straight. You buck your hips against him and he lets you, allowing his hand to just sit on your pelvis instead of push it down.

Tingles of electricity shoot up your sides as you ride Josh’s tongue. He accommodates his mouth to every jerky thrust of your hips, fully giving in to your carnal pleasure. He watches you, eyes half-lidded, touching himself, and completely under the spell of your gyrating body. 

“Ah—fuck, Josh I’m so close.”

“Please,” he mumbles, his tongue and mouth inseparable from your wet cunt, “I want you to, I want you to come so bad.”

A strangled moan rips through your throat as an orgasm comes crashing down on you. You throw your head back against the quilt, eyes crinkled shut and mouth agape. The pleasure hits you in unforgiving waves, slamming into your poor body until it's through with you.

Josh strokes your quaking thighs, soothing the intensity of your climax and helping you through it. 

“Fuck—that’s it, there you go” Josh coos.

Your whole body falls limp, and you lie supine on the bed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still buzzing through you. Your canal throbs, squeezing around but the copious amount of slick dripping out of your pussy.

Josh clambers up to your face, kissing your cheek and forehead as you try to slow your panting. 

“Josh,” you slur, still trying to return to Earth. 

“Mmm?” he answers, placing a gentle kiss to your temple. 

“That was really good,” you manage to express. 

He smiles against your skin, lies down next to you, and wraps his arms around your body, holding you to him with a comforting firmness. Your hands rest on the bicep settled over your chest, and you snuggle into Josh’s embrace. He’s so warm, and smells so good. He’s exactly what you need after such a violent orgasm.

Your energy depleted, you slip off, so comfortable and safe in Josh’s arms. 

Josh waits until you're fully asleep before checking his watch. Based on the time, Ashley and Chris should be waking up soon from the sleeping gas he had poisoned them with.

Careful not to wake you, Josh slips out of the bed, dresses himself, and picks up the mask on the dresser.

"Sleep well, honey," he says with a smile before shutting the door behind him.

#josh washington x reader #until dawn smut #until dawn josh #josh washington #josh washington x you #sam giddings #ashley brown #chris hartley #josh until dawn #josh until dawn smut #josh washington smut #until dawn

[evanesdust]

i think i dreamed you into life

written for - @sterekfests prompt: haunted house @sterekweekly word: veil

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: POV Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Established Relationship, Alpha Derek Hale, Haunted Houses

Summary:

...the one where Derek enjoyed a clingy Stiles (thanks to a haunted house).

"Are you sure you want to go in there?" Derek asked a visibly apprehensive Stiles, who clung to Derek's arm, his breath hitching every time the wind howled. Just because it was close to Halloween didn't mean they had to visit any haunted attractions, but Stiles had insisted they come here ever since Erica mentioned going with Boyd last weekend. She'd said it was spooky 'in all the best ways.'

Derek had difficulty believing that as he looked up at the massive, ominous structure better known as the infamous haunted house of Beacon Hills. It was neither infamous nor haunted at any other time of year, but whoever ran this place definitely went all out for Halloween with a distinct taste for the macabre. Cobwebs hung heavy from the pointed roof and jack-o-lanterns with grotesque faces leered from each window. Tombstones littered the front yard, eerily glowing in the dark. Sinister (and slightly over-the-top) sound effects are playing in the background. The air reeked of candy corn and a peculiar, damp smell that permeated the entire area—a scent Derek attributed somewhat dubiously to the atmosphere.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, ready to turn around if Stiles said no.

But Stiles nodded, so Derek straightened his jacket and stepped forward. The crunch of fallen leaves under his boots amplified the eeriness around them. As they entered the house, the atmosphere intensified. Stiles's grip on Derek's arm tightened as a ghostly fog rolled in, shrouding the haunted house in an ethereal mystery.

"God, the music just makes everything so much worse," Stiles muttered, jumping when a sudden shriek pierced the air. It was quickly followed by a round of eerie laughter. Meanwhile, ghoulish figures darted in and out of sight, their movements deliberately swift and unpredictable to maintain a sense of dread.

Derek would hate it, except it made Stiles cling to him even tighter. An unexpected thrill coursed through him; there was something strangely reassuring about being the one Stiles relied on for comfort. Even amidst the staged horror and low ambient lighting, Derek could see the trust in Stiles's eyes intertwined with the fear.

"Focus on me, not the house, alright?" Derek whispered just before another frightful scream echoed through the corridors, followed by hasty footsteps, eliciting a high-pitched yelp from Stiles.

If he didn't have his keen werewolf senses, Derek would probably be scared too. The chilling whispers of the wind, the ominous creaking of the wooden floors, and the distant sound of rattling chains...every element was perfectly designed to instill a deep-seated fear. But thanks to his supernatural abilities, he could hear the whir of mechanics from the animatronics set up in the house, the muttered instructions of workers hidden from sight, and the giggles of other visitors not too far ahead of them.

"Remember, it's all fake. None of this can hurt you," Derek reassured Stiles, even as a headless figure suddenly lunged towards them, causing Stiles to yelp and bury his face in Derek's jacket.

"I know it's all fake, but I feel like my heart's going to beat right out of my chest." Stiles's words were muffled into Derek's jacket. His heart was pounding fast, his pulse seeping through Derek's shirt.

With a smirk, Derek gently patted Stiles's back as they advanced deeper into the heart of the haunted house—past the spider webs and blood-smeared walls.

"Maybe next year we stick to corn mazes and pumpkin patches," he suggested, his voice echoed hauntingly by the eerie soundtrack playing in the house.

Stiles shook his head despite clinging to Derek all the tighter. "Where's the fun in that?"

"This is fun?" he asked, but Stiles silenced him with a vigorous nod.

"Best adrenaline rush ever." Then Stiles screamed as a vampire animatronic jumped out of a coffin.

If Stiles wanted an adrenaline rush, Derek could think of a few better things they could do than visit a haunted house. Something that would benefit both of them, like a night in the woods, under the moon and the starlit sky, with Derek chasing Stiles as if he were the most delicious prey.

Derek's pulse pounded just thinking about it, his every instinct responding to the thought. Unlike the artificial thrill of fear from these dubious props and jump scares, this was a thrill of genuine, primal excitement.

Stiles's eyes snapped to his, a curious look in his gaze. "Well, something's got you all worked up…"

Derek told him the idea and smiled at the rush of anticipation that radiated through their bond, the sudden expectancy evident in Stiles's widened eyes and the excited pounding of his heartbeat.

"But only if you're up for it," Derek added, raising a brow challengingly at Stiles, a daring glint in his eyes.

"I don't know… A scary, haunted house or being chased by a real-life werewolf…" Stiles's words were teasing, and it looked as if he were going to say more, but then a skeleton fell from the ceiling, and he screamed. "Okay, definitely being chased by you. At least that would be more like foreplay."

Fuck.

And now all Derek could think about was this game of their own, a primal chase between predator and prey. Catching Stiles and having his way with him. The wild images played out in Derek's mind—Stiles sprawled out on a bed of leaves, panting and flushed under the veil of moonlight while Derek prowled over him. No haunted house or fabricated horror could compete with the thrill that came from that anticipation, the genuine adrenalin surge.

After all, werewolves loved a good hunt.

"You're already thinking about it, aren't you?" Stiles asked, breaking Derek from his reverie. The knowing smirk on his face somehow looked even more appealing in the gloom of the haunted house.

"Maybe..." Derek allowed the word to hang in the air, raising a brow in response to the anticipation sparking in Stiles's eyes. Even though they were surrounded by artificial horror, it was drowned out by the real, tangible excitement growing between them.

Before either of them could say anything else, another animatronic figure abruptly jumped out of a coffin beside them, its hollow screams echoing through the haunted corridors.

Stiles responded with another loud yelp, clenching Derek's jacket even tighter. "Okay, let's just get through the house, then we'll negotiate terms for this werewolf chase of yours."

"Deal," Derek answered fervently, pulling Stiles closer as they ventured onward.

They spent the rest of the night navigating the labyrinth of chilling rooms and corridors, emerging victorious at the end of the night, Stiles clinging to Derek as if his life depended on it.

#sterek #sterekfestshaunted #sterekfests #sterekfestsfall2023 #sterekweekly #sterekweeklyveil #holy shit i wrote something

[bluebelleisabelle]

I think it's predominantly the excitement of Monster High returning, but I wanna talk about "Growing Ghoulia" and "Spell the Beans" (especially since I've seen other people talking about the new episodes). Just a bunch of random points that I really appreciated. So, yes, this post will include spoilers for the episode "Growing Ghoulia" and "Spell the Beans" :)

All the new episodes this month have been wonderful so far, but I honestly really loved this one and "Spell the Beans" (but knowing me, the clankie episode tomorrow will likely come out on top <- pun intended. Don't be surprised if I post all about that one tomorrow too jhsjssjh).

No, but honestly, I appreciated the use of "allegory" (if you'd like to call it that) in regards to Ghoulia's need to top the horror roll. Ghoulia says, "it's hard for zombies to get points. We're not as fast as other monsters. I wanted to be the first zombie to be number one and show everyone they misjudged us."

Many could interpret it as disability allegory, or generally, any minority group that is prone to being judged solely on the basis of stereotype. And Draculaura pitches in with her own personal example. Due to her love of witchcraft (something that is shunned in monster society), she feels the need to prove herself as a means of "showcasing" that she is a responsible and kindhearted person amidst the act that she practices what society deems as a "filthy human habit".

In the episode "Spell the Beans", Draculaura states that she uses witchcraft to create, and that it is a fun hobby. Being a witch is her identity, and she wishes to prove to other monsters that witches can be good people. It is entirely dependent on what you use the powers for. Through these two episodes, we get to see Ghoulia and Draculaura's identities even more deeply, as well as the fact that they care so much about serving as pioneers (within the groups they identify with) towards a better, more accepting future. I imagine, even if kids aren't reading into the episodes as much as I am JJSJJ, that this underlying theme about identity and acceptance means a lot to so many people watching.

Also, can we talk about Ghoulia's reaction to Draculaura practicing witchcraft?? It's so wholesome! She's immediately like "that's so cool!" and then quickly realizes how unfair it is. Not because it's a "human" practice, but because of her goal in the episode: to be at the top of the horror roll. She is not bothered by Draculaura practicing witchcraft. As a matter of fact, she finds it very impressive and intriguing.

Also the visuals?!? Like, as a writer and filmmaker, the whole heart-to-heart scene with mid-falling, suspended tree leaves around them made me like "OMG CINEMATOGRAPHY", even though it's literally animated JSJSHJ. But still.

ALSO "Spell the Beans"!! With Dracula and Draculaura sitting with their backs to the tombstone. Like.... ooooo damn I love myself a good heart-to-heart scene, especially when the characters use the space in that way. There is so much that can be gathered through just their position during that scene. A sort of metaphorical (and literal) wall stands between them. It's a space where they can't exactly face one another, but can still engage in their conversation. LIKE OOF. FEELS.

And then of course, a definite highlight...

MONSTER HIGH CANONICALLY HAS AN LGBTQ+ CLUB!!

GUYS. MONTHS AGO I MADE A LIST OF G3 FRANKIE HEADCANONS AND ONE WAS THAT THEY ATTEND A QUEER CLUB BUT LIKE--

I DIDN'T THINK THEY'D ACTUALLY INCLUDE IT, BUT I AM SO HAPPY THEY DID!!

And they said "queer" too! Just like Twyla said "autism". I know it sounds small, but the writers (in order to avoid angry, homophobic parents) could easily have been like "this is the Ghoul Wraith Alliance, a place where people can celebrate identity". Sure, it would be sweet, but it would leave too much to the imagination. That is typically fun, but as a queer person myself, it is such a joy to hear these words being spoken aloud in children's media!! This made me so happy, and I have nothing but absolute respect for the Monster High team working on this show!

Nah, but overall, I'm so glad Monster High is back. They do such a great job not shying away from topics and communicating these topics in validating ways. Pumped for tomorrow's episodes (watch as I shit my pants at school, cause I'm gonna be there at 5 for theater production callbacks hehe).

#lol sorry this is a lot #and I didn't even really reach a conclusion #I just wanted to talk hehe #monster high #g3 monster high #monster high g3 #gen 3 monster high #monster high gen 3 #mh #growing ghoulia #monster high ghoulia #ghoulia yelps #draculaura #monster high draculaura #monster high episode

[eventinelysplayground]

A Mother's Touch

It's March 5 today and we know what that means, it's the 1st princes Birthday! So Happy Birthday to him and here is a story for it. I'd like to say this is a happy story but that wasn't the inspo I had so, it's one that will hit you in the feels. That said if you're currently grieving a more recent death maybe give it a skip for now. Jin remembers the last birthday that he had with his mother. WC approx 688.

The last of the snow had finally vanished leaving the ground muddy and cold. Down a worn path walked a single figure one hand shoved into his pocket and a bouquet of flowers in the other. The figure came to a halt in the corner of a mass grave before a tiny tombstone.

“Hi Mom, I brought these for you.”

Jin knelt down and placed the flowers gingerly beside the tombstone before sighing and rubbing a hand along the back of his neck.

“I know I haven't come to see you in a while but things have been a little busy lately. How about I get comfy and tell you all about it?”

Jin took off his coat and set it on the ground then took a seat on it bringing his knees up and resting his arms across them.

“Emma had the baby a few months ago, he has her eyes and my hair. Louder than his big brother and sister were though that's for sure, biggest appetite too!

Emma's doing just fine, it amazes me every time you know? She told me once she wanted to get stronger for me and boy did she ever!”

A tender smile spread across Jin's face as he talked. He talked for quite a while telling his Mom about anything that came to mind but especially about her grandchildren and daughter in law and just how happy he was.

Jin came to a lull in his update and laced his fingers together while looking up at the clear sky. After several minutes of silence he cleared his throat and resumed.

“Hey Mom? I actually had a specific reason for coming here today. See I haven't been doing so well these last few days, Emma noticed of course and we thought maybe me coming to see you would help. Now don't worry, nothing's wrong with any of us, it's just….”

Jin trailed off staring silently into the sky, his mouth feeling oddly dry.

“It was Emmett's birthday yesterday Mom, his sixth birthday. It was a great party, Emma made his cake while Yves made everything else. The kid had such a feast and he was surrounded by his family and friends. I should have been happy but, it got me thinking about the last birthday I had with you. Do you remember it Mom?”

Jin finally looked back down at the tiny gravestone, a sad fondness lighting up his eyes.

“You had already gotten sick by then. I was so worried about you I wasn't even thinking about my birthday but you remembered it for me. Even back then I could charm the ladies real well, the old lady I helped out most of the day paid me a bit extra so I got bread and cheese that night to eat. I got home and you were sitting up in bed with a big smile on your face. You praised me for all my hard work as I told you about my day over dinner.

Then when we were done eating you pulled out a handkerchief tied with a bow and handed it to me. I don't know how I looked but I must have looked pretty confused because you laughed at me, told me ‘don't just stare at it sweety open it’. There was a lollipop inside it, a big blue one. I remember I was amazed at its color. Then you drew me into the biggest hug and told me ‘Happy Birthday my sweet boy’ while smiling at me.”

Jin's voice cracked on those last words as his tears threatened to spill over.

“That night was the most I had seen you smile in a long time and it made that lollipop taste so much sweeter.”

Jin reached out and rested a big hand on top of the tiny gravestone.

“I wish you could be here with us, but since you can't I'll just keep making sure that Emma and our kids get to have the life you and I never did.”

Jin’s tears fell silently and for the briefest moment he could swear he felt his mother's gentle touch wiping them away.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince jin #ikepri jin #jin grandet #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikepri fanfic

[itsclydebitches]

I'm hearing secondhand (so someone correct me if I'm wrong) that the "Don't Come Back" is directed at Ironwood and I'm really just trying to wrap my head around this? First of all, there appears to only be one large gravestone, so I assume this is a list of all the names of those known to have died in Atlas—Ironwood included. That would explain why Winter's internal dialogue is talking to Team RWBY right before she uses her powers (I think?) to write the message and the animation note that Qrow is (lovingly) wiping dust off of the names. It looks like there's a list and, after most everyone else has left the ceremony, Winter is just desecrating Ironwood's name.

Which is... really something. I don't use the term "desecrating" lightly. Putting aside the fact that Ironwood was an ally, friend, and mentor for years vs. being a villain for a matter of hours—I always think back to how Ozpin still wanted to protect Lionheart's name despite his betrayal. That love doesn't just up and disappear—that's a HELL of a disrespectful act. Contextually, I'd feel different if this message had been left by some random Mantle citizen who has neither the full story nor any personal connection to Ironwood, but as said, it looks like Winter is leaving it. I'd also potentially feel differently if this clip didn't a) re-frame Clover as worthy of a fond remembrance despite his own (supposed) fall and b) if Willow and Whitley weren't traipsing around the city their family has historically screwed over, with Whitley talking about how he refuses to hide. The recent implosion of the Titan sub has sparked a lot of conversation about whether billionaires deserve to be mourned post-death and, more generally, when suffering hardships. I'm not going to try and hash out my own complicated feelings on that in a RWBY post, but suffice to say I'd better understand it if the show had taken a clear stance on whether powerful, obscenely wealthy, military-aligned characters as a whole deserve compassion. Winter the emotional center of the epilogue, Willow is meant to inspire sympathy when her charity leads to accusations, Whitley should presumably be praised for his courage in embracing who he is, Clover is mourned by Qrow and implied to be the source of his miraculous self-improvement, Marrow is now a friend, all these characters who embody all that RWBY despises are granted that forgiveness... but the man who no longer can try to improve himself isn't? This feels like the most egregious example of RWBY's moral double standards since Ruby herself started repeating Ozpin's lies.

So there's this level of disrespect towards Ironwood as a character that, really, is no surprise given how he's been treated since Volume 8, but even beyond that it's a weird moment. How did Ironwood's name end up on the tombstone if Winter—who as the Maiden leading these refugees into Vacuo and continuing to take point in these "meetings" must surely have had a say in these memorials—was just going to desecrate it? It feels like the writing included Ironwood there not because any of the characters actually fought to properly mourn him, but because they wanted the setup for the message itself; the actual implications of him being on the tombstone at all go unacknowledged and, as a result, are unimportant. The only takeaway is that circumstances provide the perfect opportunity to insult his memory. On top of all this, what does that message even mean? As said, it's a weird-ass moment because who blasts their enemy with their magic powers, watches him get crushed and drowned under the destruction of an entire kingdom... and then tells him not to "come back"? It's such a specific, seemingly illogical insult—within the context of what Winter knows—especially when other, more generic insults would have gotten the point across. If I were to visit someone's grave to desecrate it (which, you know, I don't lol) I wouldn't write "Don't come back" because they're dead. Of course they're not coming back! Why would that even enter my mind as something to warn them against?

All of which is to say I worry that, like Penny, RT is planning a resurrection for Ironwood. The writers have a well-established habit of writing scenes based on what they know, not what the characters know or what's been established in canon, so there's a part of me that wonders if that message was chosen because they're planning a miraculous survival with, unfortunately, Villain!Ironwood 2.0. They already know they plan for him to return if Volume 10 is greenlit and thus that influences Winter's actions.

Regardless of Ironwood coming back or not, it's just a disappointing scene on every front for me. I understand that a lot of fans despise Ironwood and, much like with Adam, are inclined to accuse others of not getting the story they want (a version that is framed as objectively bad + morally wrong), but can we just acknowledge that regardless of how you feel about him, the writers haven't treated Ironwood well? You can make Ironwood a villain. You can kill him off. You can even have the other characters despise him so much that they desecrate his part of a communal grave. But when you consider that many fans really like his character and then compare him to how others are treated in the series, how RT talks about him, how the community responds to anyone who enjoys his long run in the show... it's staggeringly clear that, no, his character has not been treated well and that's what people remain upset over. Not that any of these plot points occurred, but that they've occurred with none of the setup and nuance and respect needed to make them compelling for anyone who doesn't just want to rail against Ironwood as a matter of course. That should be understood for any character, but Ironwood's unique status as a triple amputee with PTSD and a semi-canonical mental illness-based semblance makes that lack of respect all the more galling. RT doesn't have to do anything specific with their story, but if they're going to go this route at least do it with purpose and do it well.

It doesn't help that Ruby, the one who actually destroyed the Kingdom and whose message was logically supposed to bring deadly waves of grimm and who started this whole divide by perpetuating the secrets she despised Ozpin for, is given martyr-like murals. Like, it's a strong visual contrast. I'm not saying Ruby doesn't deserve to be mourned and celebrated—I want Qrow to actually act like he lost two family members!—I'm saying the show continues to treat the protagonists as ethically separate from the rest of the world and the rules that everyone else must adhere to.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

[popeyeschickensandwichnopickle]

My critical review of the FNAF movie, as a lifelong fan of the franchise.

Alright I just saw the FNAF movie and I have some SHIT to say, some good some bad I think this will probably be very controversial.

PURELY JUST MY OPINION

SPOILERS AHEAD

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Alright so the good parts:

1. I really liked Josh Hutcherson's acting and he made a great Mike, his relationship with Abbie was real and I liked his friendship with Vanessa through the movie.

2. I also really liked the dream sequence with the spirits communicating to him through his memories, I thought that was very interesting and well done.

3. Seeing Matpat was a very pleasant surprise and I understand Mark couldn't have been there because of his work on Iron Lung but maybe in the next movie he could have a role. I also saw someone complaining about how Matpat says "it's just a theory" in the film and I just wanted to comment on it and say that you should be grateful he got to be in the film in the first place, and what's the problem with him saying his signature line, me and the rest of the theater loved it.

4. End credits song was peak I'm so glad the living tombstone made it into the movie and hopefully they continue putting fnaf songs in the credits in the future if there indeed will be a trilogy.

5. The animatronics were absolutely beautiful and done so well, their movements and articulation was perfect and I loved them.

6. Vanessa is Elizabeth twist is awesome and has so much lore significance. I'm really glad to see something big like that in the movie rather than just taking concepts from the games and books and throw them all together. That gave me the idea of Vanessa's mother potentially starting the pizzaplex in the future due to the "higher ups" in the pizzaplex in security breach personally recommending her for the job.

Now the bad:

1. Springlocks.

I strongly disliked how they designed the springlocks and how they were set off in the movie. The design doesn't at all correlate with how they are supposed to look and be used, and it only covers the torso. Springlocks are supposed to be everywhere in the suit, all limbs, torso, and head. But they were only in the chest cavity of the old animatronics and spring bonnie, which isn't a huge problem it's just something that could have definitely been improved on. They also had different functionality, these springlocks looked like they wouldn't hold back the endoskeleton at all and are instead purely made for killing, which there would have been no reason for with these suits. I much prefer the windup design of springlocks that hold back all the parts inside the suits from collapsing inward, as described in the books.

2. The springlocks scene itself.

On top of the springlocks being different which I also didn't like in the scene, the way they did it with his helmet off is really upsetting. I get that it was probably so you could see expressions of pain and the look in his eyes, but it robbed us of a possible springlocks scene that could have been similar to the "one audio" I'm sure most diehard fnaf fans have heard, or the audio by "NLGL10n3I" which is done absolutely beautifully and would have made for a perfect springlocks scene. It would have been much better if it was muffled and you just saw the convulsions and blood from the suit snapping back into place.

4. "I always come back."

I really disliked how this line was delivered and just think it could have been said better, him being able to put his helmet on makes little sense to me because of the restrictions on his muscles the springlocks would have had, but it's not the worst thing.

5. The animatronics being "brainwashed."

I really didn't like the idea that the kids just didn't remember that afton was the one who had killed them, because they held onto that a lot in the games and stuff. So Abbie needing to put a drawing on the wall to show that "bad guy is bad" was pretty upsetting and didn't make any sense.

6. The fort scene.

I get it, they're kids, but they're not supposed to be like regular kids. They were murdered, and they're pissed about it, they don't care about anything other than getting revenge for their deaths or inflicting pain. It was also cringey, which they did to appeal to the audience I guess and it makes sense cause it's a pg13 movie but it still didn't fit the vibe of the rest of the film at all.

7. The film rating.

I understand that a lot of the audience isn't old enough to watch a rated R movie in theaters but it could have at least been rated MA. That being said, they got away with a lot more than I thought they could with the cupcake mauling the guy's face off and the girl being bitten completely in half. They could have not done so much with their deaths though and redirected it towards the springlocks scene, I'd much rather the rest of the kills be more mediocre and have an amazing springlocks death than have a mid springlocks death and some decent kills.

8. The blade whirring freddy mask.

I think the concept of a murder device in the pizzeria could have been done much better than just a mask with some spinning blades. A better idea for that would be a springlocks suit, assuming we didn't have the shit springlocks we got in the movie and had the ones that had to be wound back to hold back the suit. They did something similar with the clown animatronic that Chica tried to shove Abbie into, but it would be a lot better as a suit you wake up inside of and have to carefully unwind in order to open up the chest to escape, and to try not to set off the springlocks would have made for a much more suspenseful scene with opportunity to scare the audience by springlocking the suit just after Mike had escaped from part of or all of inside the suit.

Something similar to this is in the books, Charlie is trapped inside of a suit with springlocks that she has to carefully unwind to get free from. Mike could have learned how to do that through Vanessa when she points them out to him in the back closet.

9. The power and cameras.

I know it wasn't going to be like the games in that sense, but the cameras were used very little and there could have been some scenes where we could see, even as a little thing you'd just catch if you were looking, like animatronics moving through the pizzeria.

The power also was vastly different and just went on the fritz a couple times where Mike had to flip the breaker off and on, instead of the building running on a generator with a specific amount of power for the night.

10. No Markiplier :(

Self explanatory

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The last one was a joke but that's overall my critical review of the movie, would and will absolutely watch again for things I missed and to look at things better. Please let me know your different thoughts on the movie and what you think.

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf movie #fnaf ruin #fnaf 2 #fnaf 3 #fnaf 4 #fnaf world #movies #lore #springlock #scott cawthon #springlock suit #five nights at freddy's #freddy fazbear #fnaf bonnie #fnaf chica #fnaf foxy #foxy the pirate #fnaf pizzeria simulator #freddy fazzbears pizza #fnaf freddy #toy freddy #fnaf playlist #popeyeschickensandwichnopickle #the living tombstone #blumhouse #horror #fnaf movie review

[1braincell4rent]

Welcome, my dear humans to this... rambling?

Yes, I think that´s probably it. I´m just going to analise the Good Omens Season 2 Opening, talk about a few things that caught my attention, do some innacurate predictions and probably make more questions that are not gonna be solved (not even when the season actually gets released).

That being said, I apologise for tha will I´m about to write. But I had nowhere else to write it, so bear with me, okay?

Okay, we begin with a sequence pretty similar to the opening for the first season. Where´s this? I wonder.

But there´s two things that inmediately caught my attention, as Crowley and Aziraphale begin their particular procession across the fields.

The first one, there´s a person walking with a box on their hands. That same box has a couple of arrows signaling upwards and I can tell it´s also the same symbol we saw on at least one of the promotional posters of GO S2. So it´s probably the thing Gabriel had to deliver, if we go with theories plus what was said in the sneak peeks.

The second thing here... Why are here so many goats? Is this a hell reference?

So now we set the goats on fire because why not, and there´s a building on the top right that gives me ancient roman vibes (nevermind me guys, the clear thing here is that we´re soon all going to hell and more people will join the charade).

We keep going to a cementery now with people following the angel and demon and there´s a few tombstones with eyecatching things written on them.

"Jane Austen", says in one and I wonder why.

"Here lies the former shell of Beelzebub", in another (which clearly makes reference to the fact they changed the actress for that part).

"Everyday", in reference to the song.

And also "Here lies Adam"...

Wait, Adam? What the actual f-

Anyway, so now they finally descend to hell and I can just tell by the chair and computer set in there what whoever has that administrative job is not getting paid enough for this shit.

Back up in the Earth I´m finally able to spot Muriel (sorry guys, I´m real shit to spot characters in these things) and we´re clearly in the middle of World War II, as you can see by the Winston Churchill signs and all the destructive ambience very fit for that historical period.

Now, what I wanted to talk about was the movie that´s being announced, "Stairway to Heaven". I´m going to leave down here the summary because I think it might be interesting:

"Returning to England from a bombing run in May 1945, pilot Peter Carter's plane is damaged and his parachute ripped to shreds. He has his crew bail out safely, but figures it is curtains for himself. He gets on the radio, and talks to June, a young American woman working for the U.S. Army Air Forces, and they are quite moved by each other's voices. Then he jumps, preferring this to burning up with his plane. He wakes up in the surf. It was his time to die, but there was a mix-up in heaven. They couldn't find him in all that fog. By the time his "Conductor" catches up with him twenty hours later, Peter and June have met and fallen in love. This changes everything, and since it happened through no fault of his own, Peter figures that heaven owes him a second chance. Heaven agrees to a trial to decide his fate."

So we got a miracle, a romance and heaven and hell involved in conflict... Does it sound familiar to you?

As we keep walking rabbits start to fall from the sky and I feel as we approach the theater the time has come for Aziraphale to do his so much awaited magic show.

So, there´s a few things to point out here as well.

For starters, the posters of The Ladies of Camelot (that I´m guessing are the showgirls), those same ladies joining the procession and... have you noticed this is the first time in these openings where Aziraphale is not walking with Crowley but joining him later at the stage, dressed as magician?

And so here goes one of my crazy theories: what if the scene in the trailer where we see Aziraphale surprised at the theatre is because he´s surprised Crowley arrived? Surely we also see a whadow before him and it could also be something completely different and scary... But then again, if what Aziraphale is seeing at that second is real bad stuff, why are the showgirls in the background looking amused?

The theater curtain opens and we get this scene when, again for the first time, Crowley and Aziraphale fly together. Like, literally together, not one after the other as until now.

Wasn´t Crowley proposing to run away to another galaxy together last season? (ah, of course they´re not going to do that now, they got things to do on Earth).

But I´m hopeful we can see where these people were before the beginning of times, before the Eden, when Crowley was still an angel and helped creating galaxies. I read somewhere a theorie that he might be Raphael or (and I thing this is more plausible) someone close to Raphael. So yes, we´ll see where this goes...

Back on Earth we can see Crowley and Aziraphale sitting together on the bookshop roof and, have I mentioned since the space thingy now are raining hearts? What is this? And who was the genius who thought putting "Give me coffee or give me death" to a coffee shop was a good idea? (ah, we all know this and we love Neil for it, just saying).

Anyway, I´m so glad to see the Bentley again. And all those discs... Will it be so important the constant repetition of the song Everyday? Why? And had it something to do with the fact Crowley´s car has a similar problem and no matter what CD he puts it always plays a Queen song?

People´s announcing the "Second Coming" which could very well be a reference of Season 2 and we don´t need to panic yet.

But there´s a lot of elevators here, with angels inside, so we can fairly guess it´s time to go to heaven (and it´ll probably be the last stop).

But before that, and notice that no one in this procession uses an elevator, they get to this cinema where "The Arrival" is screening.

Could it be a reference of the movie of the same title or just a hint because the first episode of this season is titled like that? I´m gonna go for this last theorie, because it makes more sense to me.

The same symbol (arrows pointing upwards) that were in Gabriel´s box are now here in the screen...

Finally, all these people get to heaven not by the usual system (the elevators) but by some stairs and under it there´s a lot of stuff piled that I´m not going to analise because I basically blind at this point (my fault, don´t cancel me).

Can I guess here there´ll be more conspiracies with heaven involved?

#good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #good omens fandom #crowley

[slusheeduck]

In the Weeds

It’s another sunny day in Baldur’s Gate, and Astarion’s been left behind.

“It’s not that I don’t want you there,” Falerin had said as he gathered up Wyll, Karlach, and Gale. “It’s just…”

“We need someone who’s not going to bleed the place dry,” Gale added, then paused. “No pun intended.”

Well, let them go on their do-good mission. There was still a whole city out there, and while it had been wise to stay put at camp out in the wilderness, Astarion knew every hidden alley and sneaky getaway in the city—he’d even wager he knew the area better than the Absolute. And during the day, there was no threat at all from Cazador or his siblings. So he took his chance to go out and properly explore the city he knew in the sunlight.

Which was a great idea, in theory, except that the city Astarion knew was dingy alleyways and hidden alcoves and the stinking sewers. He couldn’t even pop in for a drink alone, because he’d been banned from most places thanks to his…sparkling wit. So he ended up contenting himself with walking through the streets. It was odd, seeing the shops open and people milling about. No one even spared him a second glance—nothing unusual about an elf wandering around in the middle of the day, after all.

He had no real destination in mind, but his feet found a familiar path outside of his usual haunts. He wound through the city, the hustle and bustle slowly giving way to quieter streets and homes. He looked about, hardly even aware of where he was going, until he stepped off of cobbled stone and onto soft dirt.

Astarion blinked, looking around. Ah. The graveyard. Well, it was as good a place as any to while away the time—what happened, he wondered, if you died but already had a grave? If he didn’t make it, maybe they’d just pop him back in.

Or, well, no, they wouldn’t. Because if it got out he was a vampire, there likely wouldn’t be much of him left to bury.

He puffed out a breath, looking up overhead. Well, may as well go pay his respects. He started to wander over to a familiar tombstone, then stopped abruptly at what he saw there.

An elf woman—middle-aged or thereabouts—knelt in front of a grave, humming to herself as she cleared the weeds from it. Her long white hair was piled up on top of her head, with a few errant curls escaping to curl around her ears. She wore a lovely deep blue dress, with thin black leather gloves for her work with the weeds. Astarion watched her, silent, brows furrowed.

It took a few minutes, but she finally sat back on her heels with a satisfied little breath. Shit, he should cast invisibility before she turned around. Just as he raised his hands, she stood up and turned around. She let out a startled little “oh!”, hand going to her mouth. Her eyes were a deep blue, nearly violet, and they locked on his for a moment before glancing at his hands.

“Oh, I don’t want any trouble!” she said quickly.

Astarion glanced at his hands, then let them drop. “Nor do I. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He cleared his throat, making a face at how…soft his voice had been. The woman waved her hand.

“Oh, you weren’t disturbing me at all,” she assured. “Just doing some tending.”

“I’m…very sorry for your loss.”

“That's very sweet, but you don’t need to be.” The woman sighed, glancing back at the grave over her shoulder. “Brother of mine. Honestly, I don’t remember him all that well. He died when I was very young. Sad business, from what I do remember; not even a hundred.” She looked back at him and shrugged. “But our parents used to tend his grave nearly every day, so I figure I’d keep it up now that they’re out of the city.”

Something tight settled in Astarion’s throat, and it wouldn’t budge even with the hardest swallow he could manage. “I…I see. That’s very kind of you, Miss…?”

“Sadiira,” the woman said, breezy as anything. “And it’s Mrs., actually, but I quite enjoy the flattery.”

“Sadiira,” Astarion repeated. He glanced at the ground, then looked back up at her. “You know, it’s the funniest thing, you remind me of someone. Now—and stop me, of course, if this is too forward—but…what was your child name?”

Sadiira laughed, head tilting back and laugh lines etched in her cheeks. “I promise you didn’t know me back then. You’re a young thing, I can tell. Not even fifty yet, I’d guess.”

“A little older, but I get that a lot.”

“Mm. It’s those shadows around your eyes; you look like a student who’s skipped out on sleep.” Sadiira shook her head, curls fluttering. “Oh, where are my manners—I didn’t catch your name.”

“Gale,” Astarion said without hesitation.

“Ah, see, now that is a good child name,” Sadiira said. “I’ll tell you what I was stuck with—Ariadne. As a child!” She shook her head, clicking her tongue, then looked up, fair brows drawing together as she looked over Astarion’s face. “Oh my, are you all right?”

“What?” Astarion's voice broke, and he quickly shook his head. “Oh. Yes. Absolutely fine. Just…” He gestured around them with a weak little laugh. “You know how it is. The…energy of this sort of place.”

“Don’t I know it? This is the longest I’ve spent here, I think. Not that I’m not enjoying chatting with you, Gale.” She gave a little laugh. “Still. Shouldn’t be surprising, having a child name like Ariadne.” She gestured to the tombstone behind her. “My poor brother was called Astarion, of all things. Dramatic sorts, us Ancuníns.”

“Really? I never would have guessed.”

They both laughed at that. It was…nice. Well, as nice as laughing in a graveyard could be. After a moment, Sadiira sighed, looking up.

“Well, I ought to be getting back home. My husband gets worried with all this…Absolute nonsense going on, and my daughter, gods. She’s twenty-five, and you know what kids are like at that age.”

Astarion smirks. “Does she have a too-long name, too? Or did that tradition die with you?”

“Oh, it very much died with me.” Sadiira smiled a bit, face softening. “Her name’s Aster. Short enough to be manageable, but…I thought it would be nice. Like a bit of my brother could still be around.” She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes a bit. “Hm. Maybe we have met. You must be familiar if I’m dumping all of this on you.”

Astarion gave her a thin smile, fighting the ever-increasing lump in his throat. “Just…one of those faces. It happens a lot.” He dipped his head. “Anyway, far be it from me to keep you.” His smile stayed up as she gave him a nod in return, though it faded as she started to walk away. “A—Sadiira?”

She paused and turned, eyebrows raising. “Yes?”

Astarion looked over her for a moment, then swallowed. “Take care of yourself. Please.”

To his surprise, Sadiira let out a trilling laugh, hand going over her heart. She sent him a grin. “Darling,” she said, “I’ve been doing that for two centuries and almost a quarter more. I’ll be just fine, I promise.” She gave him a final smile of her own, lines etching themselves back into her cheeks. “You take care of yourself, too, Gale. Get some rest—I think you need it.”

With that she turned, and Astarion let her go. He leaned against one of the tombstones, letting out a soft, shaky breath. There were…a lot of emotions left to unpack, and there wasn’t nearly enough time to do so. He shut his eyes, fighting the sting that threatened them, then pushed himself to stand up straight and make his way out of the graveyard.

~~

“…and then, Karlach decides to throw a barrel that is on fire right at him!”

“No one got hurt! Well, except the guys we were fighting, but that’s the point!”

A laugh went around the table at Elfsong, where the party—returned from their adventure for the day—were recounting all that had happened. Falerin laughed along with the rest, but he glanced up at Astarion, who was oddly…contemplative.

“You’re not mad that we didn’t bring you, right?” he asked quietly.

The vampire, who had been tracing his finger around the edge of his wine glass, suddenly glanced up. “Hm? Oh, no, just thinking.”

Falerin nearly made a joke, but opted against it. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Gods, no, nothing like that.” His finger paused, and he looked up at Fal. His face was serious, and he started to speak, but finally he scoffed as he picked up his glass. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ve gotten all the tragic backstory I have.” He took a drink, then looked back to the others. “Did Gale manage to trip on some grease? I swear he manages it every time, even when there’s no grease for miles.”

“It was one time, thank you,” Gale said. “And I’ll not hear another word considering your missed trap almost blew up the lot of us down in Grymforge.”

Astarion clicked his tongue, leaning against Falerin. “You miss one trap after literal dozens and everyone complains…”

Falerin watched him, then shrugged and took a drink of his cider. Well, whatever it was seemed to have dissipated. Really couldn’t have been anything too important.

Casual Banter masterpost

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 fic #Look I made the fatal mistake of mentioning a headcanon I had in a discord server #And as we all know I can't control myself #One day I'll write about someone besides this stupid vampire but APPARENTLY not today #Is it silly yes is it soppy yes is it finally going to let me rest YES

[tangsakura]

A Possible Future Based On Hisoka's Fortune - HxH Predictions

Hunter x Hunter Chapter 105 (Raw)

"A red-eyed customer will visit your store. Half of them is angel, and the other is the god of death. Presumably they are hoping that you will sell the moon's secrets to them. They ought to be especially pleased about that of the frost moon.

On a hot day, with the mediation of the said customer, the two of you, the man of a reversed cross and you, are probably to be left alone together. The false fourth moon will be torn away from the calendar. With this, those that remain will become 6."

I'm gonna put it here to remind us all of Hisoka's real fortune.

We all know how Shalnark ended up dead according to the fortune he received back in Yorknew arc. Now everyone is paying attention at Shizuku's fortune and making predictions. One of the most popular of these theories is how Shizuku will die around merchandise covered in black, which are brought by the Kakin mafia or one of the princes, if I remember correctly.

So now, I shall make my own predictions on what will happen in the future HxH chapters. But this time it will be based on Hisoka's real fortune.

WARNING: IF YOU HAVEN'T READ HUNTER x HUNTER CHAPTERS 349 TO 400, ESPECIALLY 391 TO 400, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ FURTHER. Keep in mind that this is unedited, and you are bound to read some cringey parts at some point.

First Stanza:

"A red-eyed customer will visit your store. Half of them is angel, and the other is the god of death."

As Hisoka accepted Hinrigh's offer of going to VVIP room at tier 1, he's currently on his way there. The only one there who is described as a "red-eyed customer will visit your store. Half of them is angel, and the other is the god of death" is Kurapika, who is, at present, the bodyguard of 14th Prince Woble and Queen Oito.

At some point, they will meet again. They have to. There is no way that Hisoka will not go to the next banquet nor snoop around and find out what's up in the said tier. He will be there and his encounter with Kurapika for the first time since Yorknew arc is inevitable.

"Presumably they are hoping that you will sell the moon's secrets to them."

With Hisoka's presence in tier 1, Kurapika won't be able to help but wonder what happened to the Phantom Troupe, especially Chrollo, after Kurapika and the main gang left Chrollo, Hisoka and Pakunoda on top of the cliff/mountain (pls my brain isn't cooperating right now, somebody remind me), in the middle of nowhere.

Kurapika will definitely ask Hisoka about the Phantom Troupe. Presently, he wants to know about them and, obviously, he will get curious whether they are in the Black Whale or not. Remember, the Phantom Troupe is also his target, but obviously more secondary as 4th Prince Tserriednich is his first and foremost target as of this arc.

Kurapika will definitely find out that they are onboard the ship, and in all probability, Hisoka will let him know about it. After all, wouldn't Hisoka want to form an alliance again with Kurapika?

"They ought to be especially pleased about that of the frost moon."

I believe Hisoka will reveal something about the frost moon with Kurapika.

As you know, the frost moon refers to #11 of the Phantom Troupe. Back in Yorknew arc, they were referring to Uvogin. But he died. He even got a tombstone-less tomb and a requiem on the night of the underground auction. So, how is frost moon still relevant to this arc?

Well, sucks for you, but the one who replaced Uvogin is none other than this man:

Hunter x Hunter Chapter 377 (Official English Translation)

Illumi Zoldyck.

With the way he is acting at the moment and how he divulged his assassination deal with Hisoka is making him super suspicious. There has been so many theories about him being Hisoka and so on because of how sus he is at the moment.

Though the theory about him being Hisoka has been debunked as of the current available chapters, you cannot deny that this is not merely just a "kill me and my engagement ring to or prenup with you is that you get paid". There's something more going on here.

I predict that he and Hisoka are on cahoots with each other. Surely, Hisoka had a deal with him, but I think it's more of helping him destroy the Spiders from the inside and so Illumi can save Kalluto from Hisoka's murder plan.

If it is true that Hisoka and Illumi are working together because Hisoka asked him to just like in Yorknew and Illumi can save his younger sibling, then Kurapika will be pleased. Because that's less spiders he has to worry with, considering that he also has to get closer to Prince Tserriednich to take back the remaining scarlet eyes, while also helping Queen Oito and Prince Woble survive the succession war.

(At this point, you may take a break. Resume reading once you are ready.)

Second Stanza:

"On a hot day, with the mediation of the said customer, the two of you, the man of a reversed cross and you, are probably to be left alone together. "

I am mostly onboard with the prediction that Kurapika and Hisoka will come up with some sort of agreement regarding the Troupe. Kurapika already has too many things in his plate regarding the succession war with the remaining princes and how he will get close in contact with Prince Tserriednich. It won't come into surprise if Kurapika asks Hisoka for a helping hand or accept Hisoka's offer of his own kind of alliance, which I think he would do just like in Yorknew. But I think this time Hisoka will warn him not to remove Chrollo's nen. xD

Hisoka will perhaps help him take out some of the members. I feel that he will go for Shizuku and/or Bonolenov first. They are currently with Chrollo, so perhaps with Kurapika's help or someone's help, Chrollo can get separated from them, and then he can kill Shizuku and Bonolenov right then and there.

But we can also take into account that the closes Spiders to Hisoka right now are Nobunaga, Phinks, Feitan, and most likely Franklin and Machi. He can go for one of them first, as well. But I really feel like Shizuku and Bonolenov will die and I'll explain why in a short bit.

And of course, the one I'm most excited about is the showdown between Hisoka and Machi. I'm so ready to witness the best tragic romance of all times

Later on, Kurapika will maybe help him get another chance to be alone with Chrollo in return of him getting rid of some of the Troupe members. The ship is on the way to the false Dark Continent right now, so maybe he can set up a place there where Hisoka and Chrollo can face off. And it will be hot on that place on that day.

But it can also be that because of Kurapika, Hisoka and Chrollo will be alone together in the Black Whale ship, whether intentional or not. But how can it be a hot day in a ship, especially later when they can no longer go out of the premises due to the unpredictable travel conditions?

When the whole ship is in chaos and on fire. Now that will be wild, but not impossible.

"The false fourth moon will be torn away from the calendar."

In Yorknew arc, the false fourth moon was Hisoka, the former #4 of the Spiders. His allegiance to the spider was never true and he was willing for the existence of the Spider to perish.

But the one to replace him was Kalluto Zoldyck, the youngest member of the famous Zoldyck family.

As of now, it looks like he is getting along with them, and based on chapter 377 and 380, he has found some sort of comfort with them.

I mean look at Kalluto sitting near Machi, whom I previously analyzed based off of her speech language as someone considerate to kids.

Hunter x Hunter Chapter 377 (Official English Translation)

And how she is reacting when Illumi revealed to Mizai about everyone in the Phantom Troupe onboard the ship.

Hunter x Hunter Chapter 380 (Official English Translation)

Even so, how can Kalluto be a false fourth moon?

Because he is a Zoldyck.

At some point in the current arc, he will have to choose between the Zoldyck family and the Spiders, considering the fact that Illumi is most likely in cahoots with Hisoka, who is trying to kill the Spiders and have a rematch with Chrollo, perhaps.

And he will definitely choose the family. Because before he is a Phantom Troupe member, he is a Zoldyck. Knowing the dynamics of the family and all of that, I think he will have no choice but to choose his own biological family over the one he found some comfort with. Thus, he has always been a false fourth moon, just like Hisoka.

"With this, those that remain will become 6."

Whether this happens before, during, or after the Hisoka and Chrollo being alone together on a hot day, it doesn't matter. I predict that there will be six members of the Phantom Troupe left, including Chrollo.

And you know what's funny, I think the ones who will have to die are Shizuku and Bonolenov, as I stated previously.

Because:

Hunter x Hunter Chapter 397 (Unofficial English Translations)

The ones who will be left will be the original Phantom Troupe members.

Originally, there are nine members. But three of them are already dead: Pakunoda, Uvogin and Shalnark.

When Shizuku and Bonolenov dies, the ones who will be left will be Nobunaga, Phinks, Feitan, Franklin, Machi, and Chrollo.

The original six.

I really think that if this will be the case, then we have a big potential or two when it comes to exploring the dynamics and relationships between the founding members. We have already witnessed the tension and conflict between the founding members when Chrollo was kidnapped by Kurapika back in Yorknew.

So this time it'll be interesting if we see it once again. And it'll be better if six of them are alive, but Chrollo is alone with Hisoka and they are far away from the other five. It'll be another dilemma for them once again. Do you save Chrollo or do you live on and keep the Spider alive?

And it'll be more interesting if the other people's predictions that the Hei-Ly family had something to do with Sarasa's death and the six founding members finds out about this and ends up being face to face with the benefactor.

These two events can tie into the Spiders' backstory a lot with the former possibly igniting or making them recollect the strong bonds that existed back on that day in the forest and the latter resolving the grudge and guilt they have been carrying since childhood.

Also, having the six founding members dying at the same time or together can be melancholic and sorrowful. A tragic and sad ending, but which provided them resolution and catharsis.

And that's about it. I hope you enjoyed reading my predictions. This post has been in my drafts since the day before my birthday last year and I just completed it in one sitting. Finally, I posted something decent after a long time.

Anyways, I'll go to sleep now. It's like 2 or 3 am here right now.

Until then.

#hxh #hxh manga #hunter x hunter #hxh theory #hxh thoughts #succession contest arc #succession war arc #succession war #hunter x hunter #hunter x 2011 #hunter x hunter machi #hxh 2011 #kurapika #hxh kurapika #kurapika kurta #hisoka #hisoka morow #machi #phantom troupe #genei ryodan #machi komacine #hxh hisoka #hxh machi #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hxh illumi #kalluto #kalluto zoldyck #yorknew city arc #hisomachi

[fernsnailz]

This is gonna come off as super depressing, but I guess that just comes with the territory of a Future AU where most of the cast is dead: were their burials anywhere specific, or were their bodies cremated? I'm highly certain Sonic would want his ashes spread, because taking from Chip, he'll be part of the earth he once treaded.

top 10 questions i never expected to receive on tumblr dot com: number 1 do you think sonic the hedgehog was cremated

(joking i love this question, real answer here:) yeah i think most of the cast would want to be cremated or have natural burials, the concept of any of them having tombstones or being in a graveyard simply does not sit right to me. like that is reserved for tommy turtle and sir connery the horse no one else gets to be in the graveyard

but yeah, since the theme of nature vs tech is so prevalent in most sonic canon i definitely think most of the cast would return to the earth in a sense. except eggman, i think they shoot his corpse out into space and it's been bouncing around asteroids like a pinball for 200 years

#this is not a topic i would be asked to talk about on any other social media site and i truly thank you all for that lmao #fernasks #future lore

[sotogalmo]

5 — 10:11

Malice Waltz : UmbraticForest.

(UmbraticForest)

________ @jasminetea1234 , @iswmperson , @dannybobany , @vomitpukey , (and my other mutuals!!)

“A nightmare Ballroom ... Joined by spirits of the night ... The graveyard's only just begun to come alive. ... Lalalalala / lalalalala. Let's have a ball ~

Join our malevolent waltz!

Cinders and ashes all lie, on dolls with prying eyes. (Dark and beautiful as sin. "Let the festival begin") Drowning in the grief, I can barely breathe ... Waiting for you, clamoring

Aren't we all enamoring?

Ancient, ancient,

Ancient eaves of the night

Burn the sky with all my scorn, You, who I love and adore.

Descending, descending

Deep in the dark heart of hell ...

Promise I will guide you well, glowering along the way. Sneering I howl your name.

During the day, all my dreams are light,

but in the night they get sullied with spite. (it's all the same, play either way). Creaking like a crooked laugh,

The dead are gathering on my behalf.

Stealing every soul we see, be with us eternally :)

I'll give you the gift, of a granted wish. So welcome to your confession, ..bend the knee, You pray to me.

There's no threshold, I'm not willing to cross. You are damned forevermore, You who I love and adore. Drowning, drowning, in the nocturnal depths ...

Glowing embers rising up, from my broken heart and corpse — Scattered by your own hand.

Ancient, ancient ...

A land of carrion fey ...

A parade of wonderful friends, summon us and make it right.

Morning, or

Noon, or

Nighhtttt (ah)

Ancient, ancient,

Ancient eaves of the night

Burn the sky with all my scorn, YOU WHO I LOVE AND ADORE.

Today,

you'll serenade

Us with your lovely voice

This malevolent waltz of ours(!) playing to the tune of you,

Breaking, bloody, and bruised...

Lalalalala, lalalalala, ......... ”

______________________________

Okay. So uhm had this idea for hours, wanted to show the lyrics, and now imma explain why I even made this post(e.i: connect the lyrics with the tags - under the Read More!):

"A nightmare Ballroom": The Pizzaria, or like. Fnaf SL bunker

"joined by spirits of the night": obvious reference to the MCI kids.

"the graveyard's only just begun to come alive": Pizzeria/Bunker being a graveyard. It's a whole ass graveyard. It's just a graveyard. Animatronics are the kids Tombstones/Headstones.

"Lalalalala / lalalalala": Kids singing, but it's just disgusting noises to us(moans of pain, etc etc. dead body stuff). But they are singing because they have new food, or at the very least a new friend! — "Let's have a ball ~": around the ams of the night, they roam and they go and look for you, their food or friend!

"Join our malevolent waltz!": If you and they want to stay friends together, you have to join them!

"Cinders and ashes all lie, on dolls with prying eyes. (Dark and beautiful as sin. —": Dolls/toys in CC's room. And also the toys in VR, that reside in CC's room. 'Cinders & ashes', being Fire, but moreso how much he's feeling - making it feel like he's burning up. 'Dark and beautiful as sin', being from William but maybe CC. Only maybe

"— Let the festival begin")": Festival of gaining a new friend! Festival of taking down their murderer!

"Drowning in the grief, I can barely breathe ...": Many characters but the ones I can name off the top of my head are - Henry, CC, and Mike. We all know that in all canons, these are the ones mostly and almost always with the emotion of grief/sadness & also with the color of blue. And well, yeah. They can barely breathe because of the overwhelming water in their head, hearts and eyes. Leaving themselves breathless, because they lost one thing that is important to them (Henry: his daughter. CC: his life(he has a hate/love relationship bout his life). Mike S: his brother, and almost his sister).

"Waiting for you, clamoring": wanting you to stay with them, so they make more noises. More sounds of wishing for the morning to stop coming so they would stop having to feel you leave them alone. They are kids, who might be angry, but they want friends.

"Aren't we all enamoring?": they were liked before. They want to believe they still are.

"Ancient, ancient, Ancient eaves of the night": The Pizzaria is quite old, hell ancient to Gregory and his friends! But it all happens at night. All of the mysteries happen at night. In SL bunker, they have two(?) hanging bodies in Ballora's Gallery (for the meaning of eaves: the lower border of a roof that overhangs the wall.)

"Burn the sky with all my scorn,—": Henry setting fire to the pizzeria, in FNAF6, because he wants it to fade away but he also wants everything he now(?) hates to just. Leave, and never stay in the physical realm of the living.

"—You, who I love and adore.": Henry & Charlie, or any other character!

"Descending, descending Deep in the dark heart of hell ...": Obvious William, he gets burned and then his soul gets dragged down to Hell. Because that's what was in Henry's speech, and that's where he belongs.

"Promise I will guide you well,—": Charlotte all the fuckin way. She's the puppet, give gifts ; give life. She promises the kids to keep them safe and not alone. "glowering along the way. Sneering I howl your name.": Cassidy/Vanessa/Gregory/Micheal, as they don't want to believe what happened and are angry that they lost the battle of being stronger. Angry that they gave Afton control

"During the day, all my dreams are light, but in the night they get sullied with spite.": CC core. Plain and simple, and I just think it fits the guy. Daylight is freedom, and nighttime is not. And he's very angry, and spiteful bout it. He hates it

"(it's all the same, play either way).": Everyday, every week, all the same. To deal with animatronics, nightmares or real. It's all the same, all you can do is approach it differently. But you do it either way/nonetheless.

"Creaking like a crooked laugh,": William/Elizabeth(CB)/Gregory(GGY)/Vanessa(Vanny). Just.. yeah, a "crooked laugh" kinda just fits their style. And for me, I don't think a crooked laugh is smth nice sounding. Kinda scary to think and yeah, I can see them using it as a scare tactic, yk?

"The dead are gathering on my behalf.": Vanessa A/Henry/Micheal. Vanessa & Micheal parallels, and Henry being the one to play it out.

"Stealing every soul we see, be with us eternally :)": DEFINITELY THE MCIS, BUT ESPECIALLY THE MOVIE VERSION. You cannot deny that. Cassidy, making a deal for them to have Abby forever(so that they can have a new friend, at the very least. Or maybe to sew up the hole that Garrett left behind, when he 'left')

"I'll give you the gift, —": Charlie/Garrett, doing what they assigned themselves to do and help other children, like themselves. "—of a granted wish": Cassidy in the movie, making a deal with Mike(maybe a small parallel with Glitchtrap making a deal with Vanessa??).

"So welcome to your confession,—": Charlie/Garrett/Cassidy/Glitchtrap(maybe also William?), listening to people's needs/subconscious desires, and giving them what they want(Charlie & Garrett give the kids a second try at life with a new body because they didn't & don't want to pass on. Cassidy & Glitchtrap making deals, giving them what they truly want. GT with Gregory & Vanessa: maybe having their own power over the people who wronged them?, and Cassidy with Mike: giving what he really wants, giving what he has always wished for).

"—bend the knee,": Cassidy(not rlly, but anger gets the best of them) & Glitchtrap getting angry when they try to refuse.

"—You pray to me.": William wanting to be treated like a God, or at the very least a very higher and 'divine' being. Slamming his hands on his desk(from the movie), and just- getting angry at stupid people(or people he finds stupid, in his own sense)

"There's no threshold, I'm not willing to cross.": Gregory & Vanessa NOT wanting to be like Glitchtrap (or who he says he was before). They are not willing to cross. But they cross either way. And they wished they were stronger. But it sucks, because Glitchtrap is powerful in convincing & being in control.

"You are damned forevermore,—": Towards William, but also other characters (from the books/games & more). "—You who I love and adore.": maybe towards Vanessa A & Elizabeth??? Very much inspired by @send-me-a-puffalope 's Papillomatosis fic. Because Will does care for his kids in that fic(he couldn't let go of Liz, and he had a SMALL hint of regret or something similar when he stabbed Nessa, will not let that go). And well, they are damned forever. Forever to tied to the purple that poisons everyone and everything.

"Drowning, drowning, in the nocturnal depths ...": Many characters, but makes me think of how @lets-ignore-that kinda depicts OMC/Henry in his art, yk? Very dark and muddy, and he's just. Stuck in water(blood? Red water? Who knows what that liquid is), always going to be drowning in his sorrows. And always being hidden from sight & only coming out at night just like his daughter and her friends.

"Glowing embers rising up, from my broken heart and corpse — Scattered by your own hand.": A WHOLE MIX OF LIKE. NAT'S FIC OF VANESSA (especially when it gets to the Scooped part) AND IGNORE'S DEPICTION OF how scooped Micheal looks and all. (Honorable mentions very much are @raccoon-in-a-dumpster & @connectionterminated13 's scooped Micheal designs. But like. Only saw them once so uh- yeah. But still!! Yeah). Souls leaving when the fire starts, and just. Getting their safe Haven. 'scattered by your own hand' is SO fully directed towards William. You cannot deny that (but the whole color coding it: purple for will, and the red for Foxybro & white for GGY/Vanny, because well. I just think it makes it much more. Sadder. Yeah)

"Ancient, ancient ... A land of carrion fey ...": A land filled with ghost children, crying - weeping or even seething. Changing shapes to match that of what they now represent, making their whole skin and body twitch inside of the suits, and change just slightly. Changing how they look since they won't be remembered or they don't even remember themselves. Maybe their eyes got plucked out? Stabbed? They don't know..but they don't recognize themselves and.. they think that they are fine with it. And maybe they are!

"A parade of wonderful friends, summon us and make it right.": MCI, and Elizabeth/Tony/Cassie/Abby. I'm just thinking about it, and MCI with these kids honestly?? Make sense? In the sense that, MCI technically got new friends yet they are all scattered(not really Cassie & Abby, but you get the idea). The 'summon us and make it right', goes so well with Abby tho(the kids were there, Chica & Abby went to 'play' - cut chase, Abby is close to being stuck inside a Ella springlock suit).

"Morning, or

Noon, or

Nighhtttt (ah)": Morning? Nightguards leftovers or the vandanlizers from the movie. Noon/Night, being with Mike/Micheal/fright guard Henry/Jeremy. Some ,if not most all, of the night guards fall victim & prey (again. Nat with their fic on Vanessa, and the other Fritz being proof of that).

"Ancient, ancient, Ancient eaves of the night": The Pizzaria is quite old, hell ancient to Gregory and his friends! But it all happens at night. All of the mysteries happen at night. All pulling the strings together to end it all, and end it once and for all.

"Burn the sky with all my scorn, YOU WHO I LOVE AND ADORE.": Fire to end it all. Should've happened way before, but the feelings are now too overwhelming and he has to act it now. Or maybe it wasn't the feelings but the idea of starting a new in a new year/decade(FNAF6 happening in like. Early 2010s I think? / For the movie it would be around 2016 on where they end it all?? I think??? I don't know). The 'you who I love and adore' being in capital letters just makes me think of Willry honestly. Especially coming from William's mouth, cuz he's TOTALLY also screaming for Henry to help him as he's just being tortured in Cassidy's special hell.

"Today, you'll serenade, Us with your lovely voice": The singers of the animatronics, the kids sing their songs of lullabies and rhymes. Or maybe they could be the Night guards 'singing' to them. Maybe Vanessa.A singing songs to them?

"This malevolent waltz of ours(!) playing to the tune of you,—": The kids are okay and are used to what you're experiencing. They were like you when it happened. "—Breaking, bloody, and bruised...": Micheal/Vanessa & Gregory, Charlie & Mike, Vanessa.A/etc. it just .... Osgsbudhsjndndnhd. I think it just fits them. All breaking in many ways, mentally(Vanny & GGY) - physically(Mike) & emotionally(Nessa & others).

#time diary(?) #audrey/kellie's time diary #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #vanessa shelly #vanessa afton #micheal afton #william afton #crying child afton #cc afton #evan afton #elizabeth afton #henry emily #charlie emily #fnaf vanessa #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #garrett schmidt #fnaf movie cassidy #fnaf mci #fnaf gregory #fnaf cassie #fnaf tony becker #fnaf ellis #fnaf ggy #fnaf 6 #old man consequences #long post???? #willry