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spotaus · 2 months ago

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New Age AU (An Order to Things)

Hello hello and welcome back! I... write the first part of this like a month ago and then came back and wrote the rest over the past few days! Ancha and I were talking about getting some perspective on the rest of the Castle while Night is still adjusting to his new body, so here we are! A little mash-up of what the Knights have been doing on a regular day only a little while in to Night being small!

no edits, no rereads, fuck it we ball!

(@ancha-aus @mutzelputz and @papiliovolens hello again! Hope you don't mind the random @ and as always if it gets annoying just lemee know and I'll cease hehe!)

Oh, and a bonus shout-out to Ancha because I would've completely fumbled an entire section here, but she recalled something from one of my many strange rambles and saved my life in the lore continuity department :]

“Is everyone here?” Dust’s voice was steady and cut through the chatter of the room.

Horror watched as heads turned to face Dust, where he stood at the ‘front’ of the room. The room was actually curved, a nice oval that allowed a long, round, bar-like table to curve along the outskirts and sit up to fifty people along its run. Across from where Dust was standing was the door. Where Dust stood now, well, that was usually where the King sat. They had shifted the ornate seat back and away for the time being, since no one thought it’d be right for Dust to sit in it. Even if he was filling in for Nightmare today.

Those seated, they were Nightmare’s council. Some seats had been barren since before Horror had arrived, a lot had been filled since then, Killer had told them that the population had seen a steep decline after he showed up. From what Horror had heard, it was probably for the best that it had been rebuilt almost from scratch. The council now was made up largely of common people. Monsters and Humans, each a representative from their own cities and townships who had both been chosen by their people and screened by the King himself. They weren’t proper or well-spoken sometimes, but they always seemed to have their people’s best interests at heart, so he figured the king didn’t mind it much. Actually, maybe their informal habits made them all the more appealing to him? Horror could never quite tell. Besides, he usually wasn’t present for these unless the farming representatives were present, and today they seemed woefully absent. Normally it would be Killer or Dust here where he was standing near the King’s seat. But, Killer was helping watch over the King while Ccino caught up on his own work, Cross was scheduled for training right now, and Dust was the one talking, so here he was.

“Good.” Dust spoke up again, very shortly, as the group quieted.

Horror noticed Dust had a booklet open on the table before him. Horror recognized the handwriting in the pages, even if he couldn’t read any of the words from such a distance. Those dizzying swirls were the familiar penmanship of their King. King Nightmare must have sent Dust with instructions, or maybe a list of topics to address.

“Our King will not join us today. I am here on his behalf. Trust me, news will return to him.” Dust explained briefly, and neither of them missed the way a few of the council looked between each other. Nightmare had been out of the public eye for almost a week and a half now. “Any questions?”

Dust’s eyelights traveled to his left, where a hand was raised barely into the air. A human sat there, Horror didn’t recognize them, but it seemed like Dust did. He gestured shortly to him and said, “Damien?” As a prompt to get the man speaking.

As Horror had learned, it was customary to stand when you spoke at these events. Everyone, aside from the King, had a cushioned stool which tended to be easier to raise out of and sit on again. The human, Damien, slipped backward off his stool and rose maybe an inch higher than he had been sitting.

“Sir Panther,” He addressed Dust with a slightly nervous voice, “We in the council are grateful for your presence and for listening to our pleas, but some of us present feel that the timing of our King’s absence poses a danger to some of our peoples.”

Damien shoved a strand of dark hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear as he continued with a surprising amount of confidence for someone who seemed to be questioning their king. “While we trust his decisions, we find that our people are growing restless and weary without plans in place to rebuild our shelters. The last flood which passed through was not four days ago, and the letter arrived today more frantic than the last. Is there any hope that we may soon be graced by the King’s presence once again?” He watched Dust’s reaction as he still stood.

Dust, though, had a pokerface of steel. As long as Horror had known him he was always a closed book. Or, maybe more like he had a bottle, but broke the top of the cork off inside the opening, so nothing ever made it out. That was Dust. Horror couldn’t even blame him, with all he was dealing with it was impressive how neutral he could remain. Horror had no doubt this Damien man had no idea what it was Dust was thinking at the moment. Was he happy? Upset?

Before Dust could answer, another hand shot up, followed by a scrambling sound as this other figure, this one to the right, moved faster. This time, it was a monster Horror recognized vaguely, if only because he believed this was one of the few noble lines who got to stay after the ‘spring cleaning’ as Killer called it once. She was a bee monster, one who lived in the capital, but her family resided over some borderland city. She was younger and a lot quicker to speak.

“Mister Damien is underselling how dangerous the floods have become again, Sir Panther!” She hurriedly said. Across the room, Damien seemed to pale under the loud and shrill voice of this noble girl. Dust nodded to her, prompting a continuation of an explanation. “The floods rolled through my town too, though we had time to prepare thanks to their warnings so the damage was less severe. It sounds like, though, many houses were completely swept away, and among them were Mister Damien’s family home. He has two daughters, you know that? They ended up in my town when the water swept them there. That’s how I know.”

She seemed startled when Damien seemed to slump over his stool a bit, planting his hand on the seat as he looked to her.

“My little girls? They’re alright?” He asked out of turn, his voice different. A bit weaker.

The noble girl, was her name Marie? She nearly jumped forward as though she were going to close the gap across the room, her wings buzzing at her back. “Yes! Yes, they’re alright! My mother spotted them in our river and was able to scoop them up.” She replied almost excitedly, entirely blind to the sickly relief on Damien’s face. “Mother said they were very smart girls, they had a hold of a piece of wood and used it to float!”

The two seemed to silently revel in the news, Marie proud to have shared it, and Damien grateful to have heard it. Neither of them was taking in the looks of worry permeating their fellow councilmen, though those nearest to Damien did extend hands of support to his shoulders. Comfort.

“Mm. Good your family is safe.” Dust said, once again reminding the council of his presence. It had so quickly been forgotten in the exchange of information and startling news.

Damien seemed to jolt at that, and he quickly made a bow towards Dust with a quiet, ‘Thank you, my Knight. Sorry, my Knight.’ escaping his chest in quick succession.

“Glad you brought that up. The King isn’t sure when he’ll be back here.” He paused a second, “Sent me with a list of announcements. One was for your cities, got word same time as you.” Dust raised the little booklet off the table before him then. The leather cover, though Horror couldn’t see it he knew what it looked like, had the kingdom’s crest pressed into its surface. Dust didn’t glance at the pages, though. Just showed it off for a few breaths. “Said he’s sending out a contracting team. Capital’s best. They’ll be headed out and nightfall to Peechrey first. Build some drainage. Then rebuild the buildings. Move onto Pinoc after or split sooner, depending on resources. Time.” He debriefed.

Damien and Marie were still standing, their discussion was seemingly not over. Questions unanswered.

“I- I am grateful that our King has already prepared, it was foolish of me to assume, yet…” He took a breath, maybe trying to put together a thought. “Drainage? Should the repairs not occur first? What of those with no home?”

Valid question. If Horror were in this guy’s shoes, he’d probably be asking the same exact things. Dust seemed unbothered by the extra questioning and simply nodded along.

“Would, but it’s flood season. King said drainage first so repairs’ll stay sturdy. Just one fix instead of twenty.” Dust explained with a little shrug. “Those without houses? Take them in. Neighbors help neighbors, till we fix the big issues. Least we can ask.” The way Dust said it wasn’t forceful, or mean-spirited, yet it seemed to make Damien stand down.

“I… Understand, my Knight.” He said briefly.

It seemed he was about to sit when a hand raised from beside Marie. A human woman, one which Horror did fully recognize. Chase. She was one of the people who Crop had introduced him to during the call-outs for farmers willing to experiment with farming methods. That had been Horror’s first big project at the King’s side, and it had been going well so far. Slow, but well.

“My Knight, if I may offer.” She received a nod of approval from Dust. “My village is small, an’ about an hour’s ride by horse to yours, but my people live on a plateau and would be more than willing to house any of yours who might need a place to stay for a time. We’d just ask for an extra hand with the harvest when time comes around.” She suggested, looking to Damien for an answer.

Damien looked right back at her for a few breaths, a little stunned. Horror had found, unlike many of these people, that the farmers who he and Crop had managed to gather for the experimental farming? They were good people from tight-knit communities. Visiting their small villages and farms reminded him much of home each time. Keeping crops and animals requires a lot of fortitude, wit, and compassion. More than anyone gave them credit for, usually. In moments of crisis, if he couldn’t be here with his family, he would choose a farming village over all else. …It seemed like Chase was living up to the high praise Horror hadn’t even realize he’d assigned to her years ago.

“A-are you certain that is all you would ask in return? I fear that Miss Marie was correct in stating that the damages are far worse than I first described. We have at least fifty, perhaps more, who would be needing shelter and resources. We cannot push that upon your people for only a favor of labor.” Damien seemed like he was taking the cautious route.

Horror couldn’t necessarily blame him, he wouldn’t want to be the reason his town was indebted either. Though, he did have half a mind to defend his colleague. She wouldn’t offer something like that if she and her folks couldn’t handle it.

“ ‘Course that’s all I’d ask! We got plenty of space, as long as a few of your folks wouldn’t mind taking turns in the lofts. Plus the food shouldn’t be an issue. We mostly export the extra we don’t need to other towns for trade, but there should be enough surplus to feed that many extra mouths.” Chase belted those words with a pride that Horror had seen on many of the farmers lately. Her chest puffed a bit as she placed her hands on her hips. “Plus, don’t hurt that we’ve got the Knights here listenin’ to us make the deal. If I tried anything tricky with it I know Sir Lion over there wouldn’t let me weasel my way out of it!”

Chase nodded her head in Horror’s direction. He didn’t expect for any eyes to turn to him during this meeting beyond the nervous glances every once in a while. He figured it must’ve been shocking to see him here the first time, and it probably hadn’t gotten much easier for them since. He found himself, regrettably, making direct eye-contact with Damien. The man looked frazzled still. Like he was regretting bringing up the topic at all.

“Mm. She’s right.” He agreed, hoping it sounded half as light-hearted as he’d meant as it echoed from under his mask. “It’s… also a fair trade. Harvest season gets…” He lifted a hand a bit, searching for the words he was looking for. “Busy. Messy, when there are too many fields to harvest and not… not enough skilled hands to pick. Risk losing a lot of crop to…” Again he paused, but for a shorter span. “Over-ripening. Or drying out. Been trying to find a good way to gather it all for a few seasons now, right?” Horror finally broke his stare with Damien to glance over to Chase.

She seemed to be beaming from over where she stood. She ran a hand through her short-cropped black hair with a slight laugh.

“Exactly, My Knight! So, not entirely an unselfish offer, but we scratch your back, you scratch ours! It’d do us a big favor seein’ if getting more hands to help would really gather it all or if we’re gonna need to downscale.” She went between the two, though after looking to Horror again, she seemed to realize that the both of them had gone off-topic from the point of the question. The farming meeting was set for about a month from now, this was the civilian-based meeting. They could save shop talk for then.

In her resounding silence, eyes all turned. Not to Damien, but to Dust. Normally it’d be Nightmare making this choice, of course, but instead? Today it was him.

He seemed to look at the parties in question. He was calm. At some point he’d opened the little journal, but kept it flat on the desk away from any prying eyes of the council. He seemed to consult it shortly, and the room’s silence spanned on for nearly a minute as he seemed to debate silently with his thoughts.

Then.

“Since the offer is made, it falls in guidelines for aide. The King trusts all of the council, but Chase still needs to draft a contract.” He finally announced. “Movement can begin if Damien agrees. Sign the paper later. After the King looks it over.” He said with hardly a moment more of hesitation.

Damien’s mouth was agape for a moment, before he nodded.

“I- Yes. Thank you My Knight, Miss Chase, Miss Marie. I will agree to your offer to aide, and we will discuss the specifics after the meeting adjourns.” He finally decided.

Chase seemed thrilled. The woman was surely happy to have a whole new town’s-worth of new able-bodied souls to help her manage her crops, even if it was just for the harvest for one season. Horror and her both knew that this would put her ahead of schedule from the other farms by a bit. More progress did mean more attention from him and Crop, more notoriety for their village, and more trade incoming and outgoing. Plus, Chase was the kind of woman who insisted a little bit of manual labor was healthy for the soul. She was already getting her hands on that parchment used by all the council members to plead their cases to be reviewed by the King.

When all was quieted and both Damien and Marie also seemed to have begin writing, though theirs were on regular paper (letters maybe?), Dust allowed a moment of quiet before he reintroduced their topic for the day. And… was immediately interrupted by another raised hand from a new corner of the meeting room.

“How… do you do it?” Horror asked quietly, lifting his axe from the sling along his back.

Dust glanced at him. Horror could tell, the tilt of his chin meant he wasn’t following.

“I mean. Talk in front of all those people. Think of good answers to their questions so quick. You’re so calm.” He clarified.

“Mm.” Was all Dust said for a second.

They’d been out of the council meeting for a few hours now. Dust had rushed off post-meeting to see Nightmare. As much as they all knew Dust was the king of paperwork, especially contracts, Nightmare had made him promise to let him at least read over each one so his stamp was proper. (They all knew that meant he’d take the fall if anything went wrong for either party, too.) So, despite their King being so tired and busy with his whole… being a teenager thing? He was still triple-checking legal documents in his study.

When that was finished Dust had gone off to check the stables and now he was back inside. In the training room, to be more specific. He’d been trying to make sure his magic was under control. His storm. Horror figured he was nervous, with Nightmare being so young now. They all needed to be on their toes. Horror had wanted to come with him, because he needed to sharpen and polish his axe. And ask him that question.

“Black Market boss.” He replied evenly, tugging his hood over his head a bit farther than it usually sat.

Of course Horror knew about that. It had been very obvious when he’d first showed up. Back then, Dust was still wandering around in his shackles and being used as a walking map to find every black market location. Sure, he figured that the stress of a job like that, plus the paperwork involved, had to have prepared him for something like this, but… Horror was the last one to forget that past of his. He meant something else.

“Didn’t mean that.” He said with a little huff. “Meant. Like. You think how the King would. I could… make choices that I liked. But. Not the same way Nightmare would. You know? You think of everything.” He elaborated a bit more.

Dust stood beside him as he plopped down onto one of the benches to the side of the training room. Dust would need all the floor space to practice his spells, and sharpening and cleaning his monster of an axe didn’t need much space at all.

“Same morals?” He replied deadpan with a shrug.

Dust was already moving out onto the big open floor to begin his summons, but he clearly heard it as Horror let out a laugh, because his steps got a bit lighter.

“You ass! I saw you send me a look about the Cherris rep. You wouldn’t have… said yes to her on your own.” He accused, almost playfully. He liked when his small friend set his shoulders. It meant he was trying not to laugh about something. Dust didn’t turn towards him.

“She asked for… a lot. Already gets a lot of support.” He replied shortly.

Quickly after his words, Horror was graced with the vision of Dust’s magic igniting across the room.

It was always in bright flashes. Sometimes manifesting as crooked, broken, brittle bone attacks with an electric taste in the air and a scorch mark left on the floor. Others, it showed up like a streak of lightning arching quickly from Dust’s fingertips or from the sky to strike wildly in any direction. It always had this deadly purple hue to it, and his one eyelight always flashed with vibrant colors just for a spilt second before it would fade back to that pale white/greyish color he sported normally.

Dust didn’t like to talk when he was fighting or training, unless it was Killer. It seemed that would be his answer for now, which didn’t really help his curiosity in the slightest. It almost made him wonder more, but lucky for the both of them, he wasn’t a very pushy person. If Dust didn’t want to talk about it, there would be no talking.

So, Horror took this time, with the ambient zapping noises of his fellow Knight’s magic as his soundtrack, to properly care for his axe. It was a nice, calming, repetitive task that helped chase away building headaches and distract him from worrisome thoughts. It was times like these when he could really take a moment to think about things he hasn’t in a while. Like, for instance, his family back home.

Almost two weeks ago, only days before the King’s reverse-ascension, he’d gotten a letter from his mother. It was written in their foreign tongue, the only writing all the family could recognize and the only language which most of them spoke. It had detailed how his brother was doing well, managing their own experimental patches well and how his studies to learn more of Orchan, the dialect spoken by the people here, had been going by quickly. He was already planning to send a letter to him apparently. Though, his mother had insisted he not mention that when they meet again because it was meant to be a surprise. It also sounded like their old farm dog had finally had her last litter of puppies. They were going to move her into someone’s house and off the fields soon, once this batch of pups grew old enough to protect the livestock on their own. Horror knew how much that old dog deserved a nice retirement treat. Warm bed and shoes to chew on when she’d get bored.

He ran a cloth along the broadside of the axe blade, away from the sharp bits for now. He liked getting the side shiny enough that he could spot a silhouette, but not enough that he could see his own reflection.

…Honestly, he wanted to visit his family. He wanted to visit his family with the King in tow, though. The plan had been to ask him about another visit soon, because his entire village adored the King just like he did. His mother once swooned to him about how ‘awkward and kind’ the King was when he sat with everyone at dinner. His dad liked the way Nightmare tried to hold back his joy at the taste of their home-cooked meal they’d served to him. The King’s poker face had hardly broken for a moment, but the curling of those tendrils of his had been hard to miss.

He just thought it’d be nice to bring Nightmare along. Plus, then, his family would be much less likely to try and baby him. He’d be on the clock as a guard, even if the King wouldn’t say so.

It would have to happen another time, though. Maybe he’d invite Crop instead. Have him examine ground zero for this entire project of theirs? That’d be nice, it’d keep his family occupied by talking technicalities with Crop… but then Horror wouldn’t get nearly enough time with Crop all to himself… Maybe-

“Worried for him.”

Dust’s voice snapped Horror out of his thoughts with a jolt.

Dust stared at him, only a little apologetic at giving his large friend a heart-attack. He was stood right past Horror’s axe. He must’ve stopped polishing a while ago. Dust looked like he’d worked up a sweat, the room felt at least 10 degrees warmer, and the floor and some walls had distinct scorch marks all along the stone in various locations. How long ago had Dust stopped training? He hadn’t even heard the zapping end, so lost in his own head.

“What?” Horror asked, confused now.

Dust frowned slightly, though he tugged his mask back over his mouth.

“Been learning his process for years. Only doing it now because I’m worried.” He said.

He moved to sit beside Horror on the bench, and Horror twisted to look at him. Waiting for any more insight into Dust’s thought process.

“He looks tired. Can see the bags under his eyes. Missing words too. Trouble focusing, looks confused sometimes.” He explained. “Don’t think he’s dumb, real genius kid. Just… the whole “13 year old brain” is getting to him. Don’t think he’s sleeping much either. It’s a lot.”

Dust looked a little pained to be saying it outloud. Horror knew he was just speaking his mind. Trying to find a good way to say that he was rightfully worried for the King’s wellbeing.

Ever since the incident, Horror hadn’t been around the King much. Not by choice of course, every bone in his body wished he could just wrap his young employer up in his arms and make him go out to the courtyard to play catch, just like he used to do with his older cousins as a kid. It just… it just made sense for him to remain vigilant and focused. Ccino and Killer and Dust seemed to have things covered with the King’s personal interactions. Horror and Cross had just been tasked with keeping face and continuing training best they could. Nightmare hadn’t even been coming to supervise trainings. So, Horror could barely say anything to Dust’s description.

The only thing Horror knew was that Dust wasn’t one to worry unneededly. Like, when he and the King returned with that Mage. Error? He’d seemed worried about the kid, but after a few days he relaxed again, because it was safe and that kid seemed genuinely happy. If Dust thought something was up with the King, Horror would believe him without doubt.

“Mm. Good thing. You learned, I mean.” Horror replied carefully. “Probably a lot like…” Hmm, maybe he didn’t want to say that out loud. Would that be rude?

A beat of silence passed between them.

“Yeah.” Dust just said quietly.

Of course Dust knew what he was about to say. Comparing the King’s rewind to his own skull injury. Granted, his happened when he was a kid, but even now it made things harder. Harder to think, to remember, to see, to process things. He’s had time to get used to it though. Nightmare was just hit by similar issues so suddenly, and no physical wound to soothe either. Their king was smart and prepared. Horror could bet he didn’t want to lose that feeling. To lose… everything he’d been doing here. Just like that.

“Don’t want to, though.” Dust’s voice was still quiet and even.

Horror tilted his head at him curiously.

“Talk. In front of others.” He clarified with a shrug. “Was nice being a Knight. Quiet before. …But I want to help. King’s too young to act alone.”

Dust sighed after those words.

They all could have said the same things about themselves in the past. Horror remembers the first time Dust discussed his early days out on the streets. He was too young to put himself into those situations. Then again, Killer had been too young for any of the shit he was put through. Same with what he heard from Cross. Even he shouldn’t have really been the sole communicator for his entire family in his youth. There had been a few close encounters in those early years thanks to angry customers.

There was no time to really think back on it, though. In the moment now, Dust was right. The King was having that crisis in real time. They all needed to face the music and help take on some of the weight, especially after all Nightmare had done for them. Was still doing for them.

“Think there’s… something I can do? To help you with the meetings?” He paused, and Dust didn’t say anything so he continued. “Or help the King?”

He hadn’t exactly been doing much. Killer and Dust had taken on most of the responsibility, and Ccino… that poor guy, Horror wasn’t sure how he was managing everything he was. Killer gave them a breakdown once of all the shit he technically oversees as the ‘Head of House’ and stars was it way too much. And Cross was still a rookie, so he got why Nightmare hadn’t assigned any big stressors to him. Horror was capable though, and he hoped the King wasn’t-

“Next few weeks. He can’t meet the farms. I dunno how he runs those meetings.” Dust once again sliced through his thoughts with his even tone. “ ‘sides. You stayed, didn’t do your missions. Watching out for Cross. Think Night likes having us close. Already helping a lot.”

Right. When Dust says it like that, it made his whole lot of nothing sound like everything. Sometimes he forgot Dust was an older brother. Horror chuckled a bit, and he could’ve sworn Dust’s cheekbones rose ever so slightly with the twitch of a hidden grin. He should’ve known better anyhow, Dust always knew just the right information. It was why Night hired him in the first place.

“You’re doin’ well. Keeping things moving smooth. I’m sure the King appreciates it.” Horror voiced, before he sighed and hoisted himself to his feet. His axe was definitely done. He’d sharpen it another day. “Maybe,” A grin appeared on his face. “When he’s better, we can assign Kills to talk instead.”

In hardly a moment, a silent moment, Dust was at his side now standing. He raised a doubtful brow at the suggestion.

What is he doing? What is he doing?

Oh, this felt so, so odd! He wasn’t- he shouldn’t! Well, he was ordered to, but still! He-

“Cross?”

Cross jolted as he looked up from where he had made a poor attempt at excusing himself from the group outside. He’d insisted he had important business, he was sure he sounded convincing… until he’d walked through the nearest door. Which happened to be one of the weapon storage closets out amidst the training grounds.

Now, as he turned to face the person who had spoken, he found that there was someone standing in the doorway. A familiar someone. A human with an impressive beard and dark tanned skin and scars tracing across his cheekbones ever so faintly and kind eyes with a few wrinkles under them. From age or stress, Cross wasn’t entirely sure.

This was Captain Rogers. The King’s first in command who watched over all the royal guard as well as castle security. The man who had personally guided the batch of recruits which Cross had snuck in with during his spying mission hardly two years prior. The man who, he had swiftly learned, had seen through him very quickly and had purposely placed him with Shep as his guide. That damn liar. Captain Rogers was sharp, and skilled, and trustworthy.

As far as he knew, the Captain had been around longer than Killer. At least, that’s what Killer had told him when he asked. He also had mentioned, and Cross had noticed, he was friends with the Head of House. Cross guessed that made sense. The captain had ensured Ccino be introduced as an important person within the castle very early on in their work here, and he had been proven very very right.

Maybe it was that reputation Cross had seen true with his own two eyes during his stay that led him to not ask the Captain to leave as he eased his way into the weapons storage and gently closed the door behind him. He wasn’t a threat. Especially if the King trusted him with Ccino. He could know that much.

“I’m not looking to disturb your business here, but I wanted to see if I could be of any assistance.” The Captain offered loosely.

He’d been kind since Cross was pardoned by the King and allowed to train. His first few weeks when he fought against the Captain’s own soldiers? He and the King had both been patient with him. Something about being in combat like that again… it had brought out the worst in him. An old wound reopening in his chest like an empty chasm. He was pretty sure the King never explained to the Captain why they would suddenly stop mid-round, but Cross figured he could see the change as well as Nightmare could feel it. They’d only kept that up a few weeks until he was deemed too high of a skill level to continue training with the soldiers. He’d been moved to private training with the Knights not much later than that. Only saw the Captain in passing ever since.

If nothing else, that time under his guidance had taught Cross that he was a man who knew how to speak with others. With security for himself and what he does, a pride in his work. He didn’t act maliciously. Perhaps only in jest or retribution to those who deserved it. He wouldn’t follow Cross in here if he hadn’t noticed him acting weird.

That mortified him.

“Thank you. For the- for the offer, Captain Rogers.” Cross replied hurriedly, realizing he’d already been staring for a period of time that felt too long. “Though I’m not sure there’s anything that can be helped.”

The Captain was silent for a few breaths, but he did wander deeper into the shed to join Cross before the stand which he had decided to stop at in his rush to get out from the scrutinous eyes of the soldiers out there. He turned away. He could easily see the reflection of the Captain on the steel surfaces of the longswords he’d stationed himself in front of. Of course he’d stopped near the long swords. He was so predictable.

“I’m not so sure about that, kid. I’ve seen time again how the helpless can be helped in these recent years.” He said quietly. Part of Cross knew that, with their ranking, in some ways they were meant to be equals. It never seemed that way, though. Maybe that was why Cross’ nerves were on fire. “So if I can help, I’d like to offer it to you.”

Yeah. From what Cross had seen of the people in this castle in these two years, it made sense to him now more than ever that Nightmare would keep people like the Captain around for so long.

Wait…

“Have you… spoken with our King recently?” Cross had to know.

After all, he hardly saw Nightmare interact with his own soldiers. He devoted much time into his Knights, but those in lower rank hardly saw him. He didn’t seem to know their names as well as he did the servants. Did he leave all business up to the Captain for the sake of trust? Was there something he had been missing?

He saw as the Captain glanced towards the closed door, and his eyes skimmed the rack of weapons. Checking for any signs of life in the reflection. His eyes only landed on Cross, staring right back at him in the shining steel.

“Not directly, no. Though I have heard word from Ccino as to how he is fairing. Seen him pass by in the night a few times. He seems to be doing well, considering it all.” He voiced, his voice almost dropping to an inaudible whisper. Cross had to stop breathing to be able to hear him. “I know you see him regularly. I’m glad for that.”

Cross nodded, mostly to himself. Yes, he figured that the Captain would know. Why else would he agree to let Cross back out among his men so easily? The King was in danger if he didn’t train these monsters.

He took a slight breath from the silence, drinking in the scent of cleaners and musty wood.

“I wish Killer was in charge of this…” He muttered to himself, dragging his hand up to his skull to place pressure to his sockets with the heel of his palms.

And he nearly jumped when the Captain let a laugh fall from his mouth. It was subdued, but hardy enough Cross practically felt it bounce around in his ribcage alongside his racing soul.

“You truly believe Sir Killer would have better luck with something like this?” The Captain questioned, a slight smile still present after his raucous laugh had scared Cross to the bone. “No ill will, of course. Just… think on it. Truly.”

Cross, part of him, felt an indignation on Killer’s behalf. For a moment he wondered if the Captain was being rude towards the Knight. The oldest of them, the most skilled, the one who stood at King Nightmare’s side. Though it only took half a second for him to recall. No, he was actually right. He couldn’t picture Killer out there on the training grounds, trying to teach swaths of people at a time. To dodge, too. Killer was a very aggressive fighter and only fled when he truly needed to. Even then, most of that work belonged to his beloved steed Granite. Killer was not the type to teach fighting lessons to a crowd.

Though, he wondered how the Captain had come to a conclusion like that. Cross had heard that Nightmare had sparred with the Captain before. Only a few times, not even close to the kind of intense training which the Knights had to go through. That he had been training. Before Night’s change, of course. From what he’d been told. The Captain had only lasted hardly a minute. One, very impressive, minute, but still. There was no way he’d ever sparred against Killer.

“No… You are right, Killer wouldn’t be the best option here.” He admitted. “Though I get the feeling that one of the Knights would be a better fit for this sort of training…”

Of course, it went unsaid in the silence which followed that, well, the other Knights were too busy to do something like this. Dust was leading every meeting Nightmare had scheduled, and planned to continue for as long as he was needed. Killer was busy staying by the King’s side and taking on the King’s usual commoner communications. Figuring out what little issues were good to be dealt with how. As well as ‘cleaning out’ the dungeon. Cross was pretty sure they didn’t keep as many criminals as they had in the past, even when Cross was among the cells those two years ago it hadn’t been very crowded. He had a feeling that the more dangerous and violent of those below the castle had been swiftly dealt with by Killer’s blade. Horror he was pretty sure was preparing. The two of them had spent a lot of time by each other’s sides those first few days, when the King was asleep or waking for only short periods before returning to sleep. After, though, Horror received his orders to cancel his missions and prepare for the upcoming harvests which would need to be guided and recorded over the fall. Cross… Cross had only been asked to continue his training with Horror when their schedules fell in line, and to work with Killer to settle any local matters.

He didn’t mind it so far, there had been very little to do, though. He worried he’d been sidelined. Sent to do the unimportant tasks because he wasn’t capable enough. Nightmare had smiled at him, but he seemed distressed. Cross was too, then.

There was no way the King had chosen him to do something like this. Teach others. He couldn’t do that.

“Well, it is a shame that you think like that. You were recommended to me for this training, you know?” The Captain crossed his arms. “By several someones, actually. Training the soldiers may have been my idea, but you were who many pointed to when I asked for assistance.”

Cross blinked at those words in confusion.

Who could have possibly suggested he do something like this?

“I find that hard to believe.” He said. He’d meant it to sound a bit more joking, but it looked like it’d come out more genuine. The Captain furrowed his brow in response, and Cross attempted to backpedal, raising his hands a little. “I mean! Kidding! Just kidding!” Though his awkward chuckle obviously wasn’t contagious.

“Look, Cross.” He huffed after those words. “If you really don’t want to do this, I can always ask for a hand from someone else. I bet Horror would do it in your stead if we reached out to him.” He offered.

Was- was the Captain really just going to let him slip away from this? He was kind. Incredibly so.

He wondered how it would feel to just accept. Hand off the stressful duty to Horror. Horror knew these people better anyhow, they had trained early on before Nightmare decided to offer him a position as Knight. Horror still spoke with most of them regularly. Cross, on the other hand, evaded eye contact like a kicked puppy. It would be so easy to just let Horror take over before he had to do his meeting things for the harvest season. It would be so convenient. So easy.

“No. I’ll do it.” He said quickly.

The Captain raised a brow, but Cross was already moving past him. Towards the door.

“Sudden change of heart?” The Captain questioned from behind him.

Cross took a deep inhale. One to center himself as he outstretched his hand and placed it on the knob leading back outside.

“I don’t think I’m any good at leading or teaching, thinking on it makes me sick to my stomach… but the idea of making the others take on another responsibility is ten times worse.” He practically spat.

No, he was not happy about this. He shoved open the door to the shed and drew his sword as he walked back towards the warm-up field where the soldiers had occupied themselves by whacking dummies with their weapons. He wanted nothing more than to turn away, out of the beating sun and watchful gazes of these people who he once hid among. He couldn’t though. Not when everyone else had some way to help. If this was Cross’ new duty, he’d do it with all the confidence he could muster.

… Besides. They were training for fast-reaction magic attacks. He was literally the only choice for this. He’d just have to make his own training regime this time around. He could do this.

Killer had done a lot of odd jobs in his past. Most of them involved stealing. Or threatening. Or killing. He had to get his name from somewhere, after all. Even so, running into town to pick up Ccino’s fabric order hadn’t been something he’d ever expected to be on his resume.

The King was having one of his rough days. Killer hadn’t often been able to see them first-hand back in the day, but he knew they were very much there. The days he would lock himself away in his study, the Head of House the only one allowed to enter, bringing with him a cup of tea or a platter of small snacks. Staying inside for hours at a time on occasion. Killer had often guarded the door if nothing else, but the walls were thick. He couldn’t often hear the low murmuring voices within.

Now, that the King was miniscule, Killer had been allowed to spend more time around both the King in his private spaces, as well as around Ccino. He was grateful for both opportunities. Though, today the King had looked exhausted. He’d been up for a few days trying to make that magic spell he found work, to make his eye cyan again. He wasn’t saying anything, but Killer figured it was draining his magic more than he wanted to admit. And earlier, when Dust came to deliver those reports from the meeting, Ccino had asked the two of them to stay for a while so he could collect a delivery. Only… Nightmare nearly flung himself out of his seat when he heard Ccino suggest he was leaving. The King didn’t outright say anything, but all of them knew those wide sockets were pleading. A silent beg to stay. Which was quickly followed by stray tears that he hastily noticed and covered with his sleeves.

Emotions. He hadn’t thought the King had been such a crybaby before. Maybe he hadn’t been. Killer couldn’t blame him though. If he had to go back to being 13, with the awareness of his 13 year old self? Yeah. No. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t make it a day. It was just that he was a crying a lot. The slightest little things would make his sockets well with tears, and then he’d try to insist he was okay and didn’t need help. Even when he would still bury into Ccino’s arms the moment they came in contact.

That was what had happened. Ccino returned to the King’s side, and the King immediately clung to him, muttering apologies. Insisting he go out anyways. What he reacted poorly and should be able to handle himself.

Killer had looked to Dust, and Dust had just nodded at him.

“I’ll go get the order.” Killer had offered stupidly, a little too eagerly, into the open air.

Both Nightmare and Ccino had seemed startled, but when he promised he wanted to run into town anyways (he hadn’t) they relented and Ccino gave him the details. Dust offered wordlessly to stay and watch over the King and head of House in Killer’s absense. He knew Killer all too well. He’d have to thank him with a drink sometime.

Those tears. They just made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t good with emotions, especially not sadness. He doesn’t know quite how to fix crying. It’s not his thing.

It just made sense for Ccino to stay and Dust to watch over them. His big brother senses must’ve been strong today, and his patience plentiful.

He’s run to the shop, of course. A tailor shop owned by a pretty skeleton just off from the capital square. He hadn’t seemed excited to see Killer, even with that mask. A nervous energy rolling off his shoulders as he reluctantly gathered items from behind the desk and packed them carefully into the bag which Ccino had sent him with to carry the items. He’d asked about Ccino. Whether he was okay. Killer had just told him that Ccino was busy so he was running errands. They hadn’t had much more to say beyond that.

Now, he was back in the castle, ready to present Ccino with his prize, and see if the King had been able to calm down at all.

“My lord?” He called out as he opened the door to the study with an easy swing of wood on heavy hinges. Slipping inside was no problem, but he’d be stupid to deny that he was confused when he didn’t spot the little monarch sitting behind his too-big wooden desk piled high with paperwork.

“Killer,” He sure knew that voice! His head swiveled until his vision fell to Ccino, sitting on one of the couches. Dust was nowhere in sight. “Perfect timing. Dust just left to meet with Horror to train… How was your trip to town?”

Ccino, polite and reserved as always. It made Killer’s gut twist just a little. At the distance. His soul certainly wriggled in place as he made his approach, bag clutched by one hand at his side.

“Not bad. Could’ve done with a little more action!” He joked, though as he got closer, he lowered his voice and the laugh trying to come to him simmered back into his cheshire grin. “Your little friend from the shop asked about you.”

As Killer rounded the largest couch to stand just across the low table from Ccino, he noticed what he hadn’t prior. The King was curled up with his back to killer, arms loosely hugging to Ccino’s middle, his face buried against Ccino’s apron. A blanket normally tossed over the back of the few chairs within the room was covering him, and someone had tucked him in tight, like a bug in a rug. Even more charmingly, one of the cats took up the rest of the space on Ccino’s lap. That little calico, Princess. Her back was pressed to the back of Nightmare’s skull and she seemed perfectly content to roll up into a perfect little bun on her master’s lap.

And despite the adorable scene, Killer didn’t miss how Ccino seemed to perk up at the mention of his friend. So they were friends, then.

“What did you tell him?” Ccino asked, his voice quiet. One of his hands was settled gently atop Nightmare’s side, the other was free and tucked by his side.

Killer chuckled quietly, sitting on the opposite couch as he plopped his delivery silently to the table before Ccino.

“Nothing bad. Told him you were busy so I was out on a grocery run. Everyone knows you’re a very busy man.” He teased. Was it okay to tease him right now? Was Ccino going to be mad with him?

Well, if he was, he didn’t seem to say anything about it. Instead , he peered at the bag, then smiled a bit.

“Well, thank you for running out, my Knight.” He returned, eyelights shifting back down to his charge who rested in the comfort and safety of his lap. …Killer had to admit to himself that he was a bit jealous. “When I have the chance, I plan to visit our tailor and ensure that our King has a wider wardrobe, since it seems he truly won’t be returning to his previous form anytime soon.”

Right. They were still trying to keep everything under wraps, so Ccino couldn’t just send a servant with measurements to see the seamstress halfway across castle grounds. He probably had to go himself. Especially because, as Killer had quickly learned, Nightmare is particular about things. The texture of his meals, the feeling of his clothes, even the temperature of his sheets in the night or the brightness of a candle. Though, he rarely voices his discomfort. Ccino was just a master of noticing the little ways the small King would squirm or tug at his top or squint at a candle just a bit too strong for his newly sensitive eyes. He wanted to learn how to do that so well.

His only good news on that front was that Nightmare still made a lot of the same gestures as before. His little, silent commands to Killer. At ease, be alert, with me. He was fond of still being familiar with their own little secret code they’d unintentionally invented over the years.

“It really wasn’t a big deal. Besides, our little Lord said that it’d be better for the city to see the knights are still active, right? With Dust and Horror out of commission for day-trips, I’ve gotta pick up the slack!” he joked, leaning back comfortably into the couch and sighing. “Next time you need a break, we can always try and ask him to supervise a training for us. Maybe it’d make him feel a little better?” he suggested,

Nightmare, small as he was now, still couldn’t deny a duty which called for him. Especially, Killer assumed, from his Knights. A little of that old normality would probably be good for him. Make him feel like not much had changed. Even though… it definitely had.

Ccino smiled a bit at that idea, his hand gently petting Nightmare’s ar. His chest rose up and down ever so gently.

“He cherishes training with all of you so dearly. Maybe he would enjoy a small break from all of these worries.” He agreed quietly.

#new age au #I... honestly had no idea what I was doing here for most of this haha #I knew I wanted to show Dust and how he's developed since arriving (He has complex feelings about having to come up with solutions to peopl #and their problems as well as be standing in the spotlight) and Horror and how he feels a bit adrift but how he'll manage just fine.#Then ofc Cross is having his own little crisis (he does NOT want to be working with these people. He's not a full Knight but he's in a #weird between rank that makes him the same level as the Captain but he's still just another recruit so he feels weird teaching the actual #soldiers? And I've also decided that Cross had a bit of time to train w/ the normal guard after his release (Horror started his training #with them too) but he started to fall into an old pattern he used to get when training w/ X-Gaster. And that got. Spooky. So now he feels #like an outcast and that he isn't qualified to teach these guys anything!) but luckily Rogers is cool.#He was there when Cross was a rookie #even if he was a fake one. And he sees potential and can tell that Cross is a sweet kid (Ccino has high-praise for him too.) so #he comes to his aid! And. Well. he manages to get Cross to talk himself in a circle about it at the very least! He was planning a pep talk #but... eh. it worked out!#Then Killer! He just needs a little fun outing since Cross gave some insight into what else he's been up to. Plus it sets up future events.#(Lust and Cross meeting? Killer not being able to handle a sick and delirious emotional night? Y'know?)#And... yeah! Just a lot of stuff I kinda piled in lol- I'm sure each of these could get a little drabble of their own but i liked compiling #them like this! Plus it made me feel less bad about it only being a glimpse rather than a full scene lol.#Okay!!! Okay. My final statement is that I fell asleep mid-type and woke myself up #fully just because in my hazy dream darkness I thought 'I need to post that drabble' and then snapped awake because i hadn't finished it #lmao-#So!!! Good night!!!#Oh also. Actually my last thing: Yes I did revisit Change in Management because I needed to remember Rogers as a character lmao.#I hope I caught him right? I love Ancha's depictions of him sm and I was very afraid I'd make him sound stale lmao-#OKAY I"M DONE. NIGHT!

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tozettastone · 3 months ago

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Someone in chat told me, "[You'd read this] but would you write it?"

And now I'm haunted by the sudden but objectively true knowledge that "hidakakudei ship fic with time travel and murdering hashirama" is not a story I am likely to get to read until and unless I am able to write it for myself.

ETA: I mean like. I knew? But I hadn't really thought about it.

#i've written kakudei. i've written hidakaku. i've written hidadei. this is the final boss.#who else is going to write this.#there are 3 fics in this entire ship tag and 1 of them is a drabble compilation that tags everything

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melanatedkink · 4 days ago

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Heavy is the Crown

@ilbtvs Hope you like it!

A/N: As a veteran with 4c hair, I have to write this.

Summary: Bad Hair Day? Try bad hair morning. Every. Single. Morning. Y/n seems to have the most unruly hair known to man. Sometimes she's able to wrangle into a decent puff, or if she's feeling fancy, she'll have a new wig on. But one thing was for certain, only she knows that is truly on her head. That is until a certain, curious lover finds out for himself....

Dabi finds out on accident. There he was sitting on the couch alone. You had gotten up for a bathroom break or food. Neither of which took...what was it an hour now? What in God's name were you up to? He worked his jaw as he wrangled with the possibility that this might be serious. What was he supposed to do if he checked on you only to find you crying or worse? With a sigh, he swallowed his trepidation and stalked down the hall.

He rapped his knuckles on the door.

"Come in!" you cheekily responded.

He glared at the door, "Is this some kind of a joke?" he asked, unamused, "Wait, are you about shower?"

"No, you perv. I'm just doing my hair!" you called back.

Dabi hesitated for a second. Why the hell was it taking you so long? Then he realized, he actually hadn't ever seen your hair. You usually met up at night, so your locks were firmly tucked away under a scarf or 'du rag'. (You'd explained the difference once, but he couldn't tell which was which).

He cracked open the door, his curious gaze darting to you. You looked to be about halfway done with making braids. Your eyes were zeroed in on sliding the thin end of the rat tail comb through a small section to braid next. Your fingers were moving so fast that you were finished as quickly as you started. Your chipper voice startled him out of his silent admiration.

"Is something wrong?" you pry.

He glanced at your cheeky reflection, "You're enjoying this aren't you?"

You shrug as you tilt your head a little further to slip the comb through your hair again, "Maybe,"

He rolled his eyes, "I thought you were going to get food."

"I got distracted," you innocently explained, "Besides, I'm gonna have a long week, so I gotta get this done. It'll only be a few more minutes,"

Dabi sighed, "God, you've been in here for an hour,"

He said that, but his eyes were too busy tracking the way your hair parted between your fingers as you braided it. And he didn't believe in silly things like magic, but you had to have a quirk with the way your hair gained three inches after you combed it.

"Wait," he blurted. You were almost finished, a small section still sticking out, "Lemme... touch it,"

Dabi fully entered the bathroom the second you put the comb down. He stationed himself behind you, and ran his fingers through the coiled ends. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around the strands, marveling at how fuzzy it was.

"How does it feel?" you ask.

"Soft," he answered.

Kirishima was feeling a bit homesick. Between mounting paperwork, and monotonous patrols that prolonged the former from getting done, the man just needed some you and some takeout. He couldn't wait to surprise you. He did good this time. He checked your schedule, making sure you had an off day. He got your favorite order from the ramen place down the street. He even packed a hoodie of his, just in case you were in a mood. He was prepared, until he opened the door.

He froze. You froze. He looked at you. You looked at him. You looked...different. Your braids were gone, replaced with a soft, short amalgamation of curls and coils. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you took off running. Kirishima was hot on your heels, his stride quickly eating up the distance you'd managed to gain. He scooped you up from behind with a victorious "Gotcha!" You kicked your legs in protest as he carried you to the couch, and dropped you in your spot.

"What the hell has got you running around the house like this?" Kirishima grinned at your attempt to pout at him.

You covered you head with your forearms and grumbled, "I didn't expect you to come over today,"

He placed a hand on his hip, observing how you were slowly curling in on yourself, "Is that all?"

You sigh, "It's fucking stupid,"

"Okay, one, language," Kirishima knelt before you to make sure you could clearly see him, "Two, why were you running?"

"I- It's my hair," Your arms drop from your head to your lap. At this proximity, he could see how pretty it was. It still looked wet. Different from what he was used to seeing, sure. But he couldn't fathom a single bad thing to say about it.

"It's different," Kirishima guessed.

"It's ugly," you corrected.

Kirishima visibly stumbled on you assertion, "What?"

"It is!" You straightened in you seat, "You can't tell me it's not!"

He folded his arms and stared at you. No, he wasn't going to tell you what he thought. Because he didn't have to. Ultimately, Kirishima was in love with every part of you. Even the parts that you tried to hide from him. So he stared up at you, tapping his finger on his bicep until you started to show signs of cracking.

"Well, if you're gonna stare so hard, you might as well say something,"

Bingo. His stern expression broke into pure giddiness as he hopped on the couch with you. The only thing that could top seeing you after work, was getting to gush over you. You just narrowed his focus.

Shinsou was picking you up for a gas station haul. You used to do this a lot in college, so it was bit nostalgic getting to do this, now. There were a few things that never changed. One, you two would pick a pair of instant ramen bowls to be devoured as soon as you got back to his apartment. Two, he had to leave with a slurpee (blue raspberry to be specific). And three, your hood would be up the entire time. Granted, when you guys first started doing this it was well into November. But when you walked out of your apartment, in the summer heat, with a pair of shorts and a bulky hoodie, he swore you were messing with him.

As he was driving you back with your combined spoils, Shinsou decided to pick your brain about it.

"So, is that hoodie like your uniform or something?"

You snort, "Were you expecting date night effort on a..." you squint at the time on his radio, "two a.m. gas station run?"

He shook his head, "What I'm not understanding is the hood. Like you're always wearing it. Specifically when we do this. Any other time your hair is in braids or something,"

You finger the aglet on your hoodie string as you consider his question. Braids went with everything. It was easy to do. Easy to take down at the end of the day. But you weren't sure if you were ready to show him what your hair looked like after you took them down.

Shinsou shifted in his seat, "Damn, I didn't mean to make this uncomfortable or anything. Just forget I said anything,"

His cheeks burned the entire way home. He just couldn't wait to get back to his apartment, hoping the atmosphere change would dispel the awkwardness between you. Thankfully, the ride was over. As he gathered the bags from the back seat, he felt your hand brush against his shoulder. You had a look like you wanted to say something.

Shinsou sat back in his seat, his attention fully on you. He almost heard you sigh before your hands went to your hood. You pulled it back slowly, giving way to a cluster of fluffy curls expanding out until you attempted to fluff and shape it. Now, he was more confused. How the hell were you surviving this humidity with all the hair smushed under your hood all night?

"May I?" Shinsou tentatively leaned forward mindful of your need for space until you nodded. He reached out and anchored his palm onto the back of your neck, his fingers slipping into the soft coily hairs there. You shivered, but you didn't shy away from his exploration. He pressed his forehead against yours, his lavender waves mingling with your soft mane.

"I like this. All of this. It looks good on you," he whispered.

Shinsou felt you relax at his admission. He hoped you took it to heart. And he really hoped he'd get to have his fingers in your hair more often.

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milkpup · 2 years ago

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｡⋆ʚ♡ jjk angsty oneshots + drabbles

‹𝟹 summary: SFW angsty oneshots. inspired by sad songs T_T

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

✦ p1: you promised to watch a movie with me ✦

›› yuuji itadori x reader

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: death, depression, sadness, disordered eating, grief

‹𝟹 tags: au- college with powers, y/n dies, sad yuji, no happy ending only sadness

‹𝟹 notes: this oneshot is heavily inspired by the song 'you promised to watch a movie with me' by sally.

link if you can't click it -> https://open.spotify.com/track/2gllZYkRxVyztap9ojXalD?si=d7fb946564544f66

listen to the song! and look up the lyrics if you wanna be extra sad ;_;

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

you were yuji’s first girlfriend. he had never met anyone else with the same hobbies and also a passion for helping people that rivaled even his. you first met at jujutsu tech as first years. he was too shy to ever talk to you aside from missions and class time though. when he heard which college you would be going to after graduation, he immediately applied to that same school that night. he didn’t know why he wanted to be around you so much, he hadn’t even introduced himself to you yet.

it didn’t matter though, because your bubbly and talkative personality immediately reeled him in. of course yuji had the same major as you, and tried to take as many classes as he could with the same professors. he always admired you from afar, not in a creepy way, but like you were untouchable, unattainable force and he was a fly on the wall.

he couldn’t believe himself when he was placed in a project with you and you both instantly connected. talking to you was actually really easy, it came naturally. or maybe you had that vibe, the aura that makes anyone around you comfortable. of course, throughout the duration of your project you two would make any excuse to hang out, study, revise the project, whatever. it came to a point where you didn’t even bring your laptop or materials when visiting yuji; you just wanted to be around him too.

you tried to be more forward, more direct with him; you could see that although he has a vibrant personality, he needs someone to get the ball rolling before he takes over. so you would ask to come over to his place, and every single time yuji would respond back with his cute ’yes :)’ almost immediately after.

yuji was thrilled everytime you would hang out at his place. he loved watching movies—from comedies to romance, horror and thrillers, and so many more—yuji loved sharing his passion with you. when he found out there was an extracurricular film critique class at your university, he immediately jumped on that; although it’s mostly because you said you were taking that class. he loved the new perspective he could analyze his favorite movies from, and he loved it moreso that you could do it together.

life in a world of curses and jujutsu constantly reminded you both of its presence. when you weren’t working on “regular” schoolwork or hanging out, you were both on jujutsu missions together. when you were done with missions, you would crash at yuji’s place and tend to each other’s wounds if needed. it was a nice respite and reminder that not all of life is solely your ability to protect people, but also these intimate moments together.

yuji never thought you would ask him to be your boyfriend, he thought that was something he had to do. despite this, he appreciated that you were so forward, and he gladly took on that role. time went on with your usual routine of mundane schoolwork, followed by missions, and then staying at yuji’s apartment.

in any given month you were at his place more than you were at yours. as your relationship together grew, you both thought it natural that you would just fully move in to yuji’s apartment instead of sleeping over. that way you could both start to fully integrate your lives together.

a few months in, you both became busier and busier with solo missions. yuji had been critically injured in his last mission, and no one else was available to accompany you for yours. you might have been too confident in your abilities, but you persuaded the higher ups to let you take on the mission solo anyways. you were always headstrong, charging forward to save whoever you could on your way. yuji always admired that about you.

you gave a kiss to yuji on your way out, patting his fluffy pink hair as you told him you’d be back soon. he believed in you and knew that you always kept your promises.

a little while later, you remember that yuji hadn’t changed the bandages around his wounds. shoko could fix everything, but lately she’s been very busy and yuji’s injuries weren’t deemed critically important enough for her help. instead, he just had to take it easy for a few days while the stitches finished healing. you shoot yuji a text, giving him some extra reassurance and concern for him.

you: hey yuu, don’t forget to switch the bandages. and make sure to wash your hands first!!!! I don’t think this mission will take too long. I miss you :c I promise we can watch something together when I get home ^_^ see you soon, I love you!!!!

yuji checked his phone at the buzz of your text, and replied back instantly:

yuji: okay lovebug. I miss you too c: and ty for the reminder! (salute)

you read his message but got interrupted by your car door being opened and someone instructing you outside. you had this in the bag.

yuji made sure to meticulously wash his hands before changing the gauze and bandages of his wound. he appreciated that you were always looking out for him. you always helped him feel better when he was sick or sad, and he could only hope that he made your life better too.

he busied himself with cooking you a delicious meal for when you got home. he didn’t want you to work yourself any more than you had to, and he felt this was the least he could do to make you feel that much better. he kept obsessively checking his phone, trying to see if there were any new messages from you.

it was starting to get late, yuji had long since set up the table for you two and had the food ready to serve. he sat at the couch, waiting for a call or a text that he didn’t realize would never come.

it almost 10pm, still no sign of you. usually your missions would only last a few hours, not 7. he started getting worried, pacing around the apartment before he grabbed his keys and left towards jujutsu headquarters. he needed some answers. the food he had prepared sat on the table, forgotten and cold.

yuji sped way over the speed limit on his way to headquarters. he was practically running inside the building, looking for gojo or anyone who could explain what had happened to you. he stumbled into satoru, looking up at him and words stumbling out asking where you were “what happened to ___? where is she? is she okay?”

satoru only looked down at him, a weak smile of pity taking over his face. “I’m sorry, yuji… she’s gone. the enemy had more reinforcements than we had planned for, I arrived to her laying on the floor, lifeless.” satoru was blunt, but still brought yuji in for a hug.

yuji’s tears flooded his eyes before rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto his shirt. he cried in satoru’s arms for what felt like eternity.

he doesn’t remember how or when he got home. his mind turned off the moment after he heard the news about you. he can’t remember anything from then until now, where he can only hear thoughts and anger floating around in his head.

he was mad at the higher ups, for letting you go, mad at satoru, for not being there faster. mad at yourself for being overconfident… but overwhelmingly pissed at himself for not being there. if only he hadn’t gotten injured. he shouldn’t have shown anyone his injuries and just endured it. he should’ve done anything if it meant you would not go on a dangerous mission alone.

tears were streaming down yuji’s cheeks once again as he just stood in the doorway of his room, staring at the table that had been set for two. he had no appetite, he would probably throw up if anything even came near him. he turned around and looked into your shared room. he saw some of your clothes strewn on the floor, your messy and unorganized desk with knick knacks and various papers, and your plushies that you demanded stay on your bed or else they’d ‘”eel left out”. what felt like rivers of tears flowed at this point, and yuji questioned where they even came from. his throat felt like the desert, he was surely dehaydrated at this point. he couldn’t rationalize anything, and chalked it up to the “tear curse” making him feel this way. that made him chuckle for not even a second before he felt even guilty. how could he even laugh at a time like this?

days went on of yuji holing himself in his apartment, staying in bed and just drifting in and out of sleep. every waking moment he was filled with despair and tears as he clutched at your plushies, trying to hold something, anything of yours to comfort him. eventually he would pass out from exhaustion and repeat the cycle again. only when he felt a splitting headache overcome him did he pull himself out of bed to find water and maybe something to eat.

during his waking moments, yuji would check his phone, hoping you had sent something and that this was all a ruse. he started texting you too, in a state of near-delusion, until your phone died and the texts stopped getting delivered.

he felt like he had lost his other half. he only ate a slice of bread when he felt the gnawing pain of hunger in his stomach. he only drank water when he knew he’d probably die without it. all he could do was blame himself for not protecting you. you were seemingly untouchable and unattainable, and he had got you for himself, before ultimately letting you slip through his fingers.

he stopped talking to other people. he didn’t even turn the tv on anymore. he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for a call or text from you, ending his waking nightmare. he cried when he was reminded of the movie you were both planning to watch the night you came back. he sobbed, waled, and cried out in anger and frustration at everything in existence.

before drifting off to sleep, yuji had one last fleeting thought. “I miss you, ___. I love you, and I want you back home. you can’t leave me, you promised to watch a movie with me.”

‹𝟹 notes: sad irl so this means i make angst lolol. lmk what y'all think! more parts coming soon maybe lol

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

#jjk fic #jjk angst #angst fic #no smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #yuuji x reader #yuuji x reader angst #yuuji angst #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #oneshot #heavy angst #drabbles #compilation

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rememberthesun · 2 months ago

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Anyway. I posted a short continuation to my Lickey Mutual Pining fic (2k), based on the prompt: Resolved Sexual Tension (400 words). And it's very soft. But also based entirely on a gif of Lip who can't stop kissing every inch of Karen's skin after sex.

So. I feel like it's justified.

#my writing #memes #lip x mickey #lickey #l/m #fic: drabble compilation #tropes

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just-a-dinosaur-i-guess · 8 months ago

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54 + fyonikonathan for the spotify wrapped ask game <333

ok so 54 is the circle which i've already gotten BUT. grabs 55

fyonikonathan + my time by bo en

Hands of time will wring my neck Every little moment spells regret But I don't have to feel this way As a voice inside my head - Nikolai sits atop a church with a rotting arm in its lap, feeling like whatever wings it ever began to sprout are decaying off its back. Fyodor did not care about it. Nathaniel could never get the words out if he ever did. It wants to not care in return, it wants to lay in a tub of holy water and let itself burn, feel the scorch and bite that sinners are so graciously allowed because at least then it would be a reprieve from everything else gnawing away at its very being. But they would never let such a thing like itself in. And it's not here for that anyway. It stands up and stares down at the arm, and its stomach turns over and over, and churns, and tries to consume itself rather then think about what Nikolai might be considering right now. Ultimately, it doesn't. It tosses the arm down into the graveyard, uncaring of what happens to it next (because it's not Fyodor's, it's not, it's not, Fyodor didn't care and xe never could, xe saw it like a pawn-) And then it steps off the church roof, cloak outstretched grimly.

#spotify wrapped #marichild #spotify wrapped drabbles #pidge does prose #bsd #fyonikonathan #bsd nikolai #nikolai gogol #NIKOLAI COPES BADLY COMPILATION

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leaderpinhead · 9 months ago

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Drabble Challenge Day 19 (Riddle)

<- Previous || Next -> Prompt: Thunderstorm Drabble Challenge 2024 Master List

Riddle knew his face was red without having to see his reflection. “What were you two thinking?”

Epel and Yuu knelt in front of him, heads bowed. The smoking blastcycle they had shot across the training field on laid beside the horse stable. Idia circled it, his face pale with shock.

Riddle pointed across the field where Sebek and Silver chased one of the horses. “Your antics caused Thunderstorm to panic!”

“We’re sorry.”

“Your apologies change nothing!” Riddle almost felt bad when the two flinched. Almost. “You two will spend the remainder of the afternoon tending the stable as punishment.”

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #epel felmier #twst yuu #drabblechallenge2024 #drabble #yuu & epel are now part of the blastcycle wipeout compilation videos #poor thunderstorm

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prythianpages · 4 months ago

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for context, this is to come up with a name for this Eris series.

Normally, I name series after songs but though We Hug Now inspired the first 2 drabbles, the song that inspired the series is a Spanish one & it doesn’t sound the name when translated to english 😭

#the song is called Que no Quede Huella #should I just give it the Spanish title???#bc it sounds better in Spanish #it’s also such a good classic 🤧#pls lmk bc I want to make a master list to compile the drabbles in order #eris x reader #Hope polls

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volivolition · 1 year ago

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Any updates on all wip fics? and what is your ao3 username if you have one?

if you don't want to share any info, it's all good

i hope you know how hard i am YIPPEE-ing after getting this ask, I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY FIC WIPS!!!! YEAHGKJH!!!! <33 my AO3 is also volivolition, but i dont have anything posted there yet :]

TL;DR: I have 4+ WIPs im working on simultaneously: Unstoppable Force Kisses Immovable Object - A Voli/Echem enemies -> enemies with benefits -> friends with benefits -> lovers fic that started as PWP but whoops its not just smut anymore lmao? Meet the Parts that Make You - A "Kim introduced to the Skills" fic! Let's Make It (a) Home - A Skills fic showing the aftermath of the amnesia wiping out Harry's mindspace, with the Skills working together to rebuild it into a home during the Hanged Man case. Mostly domestic fluff. Swept Up in the Feeling - An Empathy-centric fic, originally an excuse to do Skill character studies. Empathy understanding each skill while they do activities together <3 (gained a plot. suddenly.)

ANYWAY!! more info, snippets and musings under the cut!

Unstoppable Forces Kisses Immovable Object Word Count: 18722 Rating: Explicit Okay, so technically this document isn't just one story. It's my catch-all "any Volistry writing goes HERE" containment zone. Like I said, this wasn't supposed to be anything big, I just wanted to write a bunch of drabbles and practice writing smut because I've never done that before. But then the drabbles started connecting to each other and Voli and Echem started falling in love without asking me and so it's like. A whole thing now lmao?

they bring me so much joy. they're so fun to write, because volition will say something so normal and echem will find some way to misconstrue it and volition will bicker and echem will flirt back and volition will sigh and they're so fucking funny to me. they just keep talking, their back-and-forth banter is so natural to write, which is why this fic is so long hkgjh

they learn to balance each other out!! i want them to be soft and witty with each other and i'll. cry about them. if you catch me at the right time i will wax poetic about their relationship but right now they're just being incoherently rotated in my brain.

anyway here's a snippet, i have so much written for this damn fic that i had trouble choosing lmao. it's like. mildly suggestive? but truly nothing blatant, just cutesy shit lmao

Meet the Parts that Make You Word Count: 3886 Rating: Mature This fic is the closest of the four to being abandoned lmao? Or at least I want to finish Swept Up before writing this one, because as it stands I feel like I can't grasp everyone's characters right without doing some character study beforehand. It might also be because I'm currently more obsessed with the Skills instead of the humans, though i still love them.

but yes! Meet the Parts that Make You is a fic after Martinaise, established relationship for KimHarry, where Kim is casually introduced to the skills over dinner, and they document their findings in Kim's notebook over the course of about a week. it's a lot of skills banter and silly moments!! harry can honestly say that every single part of him loves Kim.

here's where they're trying to show off each of their different specialties, featuring Reaction Speed and Hand/Eye Coordination who are my sillies.

Let's Make It (a) Home Word Count: 1896 Rating: Teen+ I think if I want to finish any fic first, I want it to be this one, because it really sets the scene for the rest of the universe of all my other fics. The main gist is that Perception can pull in anything that Harry's looking at into the mindspace, and once they figure this out, most of the skills go "Hey we should bring in more things so we can decorate!"

volition my friend and perpetual spoilsport :3 anyway, different skills affect the object's properties! Perception can pull things in, Interfacing can give it texture, Conceptualization can make it different colors and Reaction Speed can duplicate it. Empathy makes it so the object has the correct feelings attached to it (Dora's letter, for example) and Half Light can immediately destroy the object (Dora's letter, for example).

this fic is basically The Hanged Man case, but from the perspective of the Skills. i think it focuses on some specific skills, but maybe not all of them because I'd die if i had to give each one of them an individual chapter. maybe i'll smoosh some skills together? i love all of them and i want all of them to get some screen time, but it would wreck me lmao

i have a whole Volition scene written out and i think its so fucking gorgeous bro... i love writing. it's like... rebuilding after death, the skills have a kind of blank slate too, you know? they're learning to work together again, regaining memories, making new ones, making a home together. the way different skills need to work together to make an object in the mindspace real. I WANT THEM TO BE A HAPPY FAMILY. AUHG.

Swept Up in the Feeling Word Count: 5103 Rating: This is Mature. Except the Echem chapter. Which is Explicit.

EMPATHY MY FAVORITE SKILL. OUGH. EMPATHY. MY FRIEND. this fic is about Empathy getting roped into a bunch of shenanigans with the other skills, and goes along with it all while better understanding each of them.

so remember when i said I'd die if i had to give each one of them an individual chapter? yeah. that's because THIS is the story where i give each one of them an individual chapter.

24 chapters, one per each skill. Including, but not limited to:

Exercising with Physical Instrument!

Art time with Conceptualization!

Performance with Drama!

Listening to Encyclopedia infodump!

Reminiscing with Volition!! (THEY ARE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS!!!)

Staying up late with Endurance

"Overstimulated Skills Support Group" with Perception

Talking about understanding people vs understanding machines with Interfacing

Talking about understanding people vs understanding specific people with Esprit de Corps

Apologizing to Composure about making their life harder with UNNECESSARY FEELINGS ("as if we don't deal with enough of our own, you bring in other people's emotions for me to hide?" "why do we always need to hide them?" "BECAUSE... :| Just because.")

A Talk with Half Light.

Y'know... with Electrochemistry (there's more to it than just that though lmao)

This fic will be the death of me, with all the skills, but I really really want to do skill character studies. I need to research their lines on Fayde and understand each of them so I can write all of them better.

This is also so I can be obsessed with each of them. Currently I have a lot of faves, but I don't care about all of them yet when i WANT TO!! i want to know each of them intrinsically!! I wrote a bit of the Endurance chapter and I didn't use to care for him very much, but then I wrote the lines

"Endurance is not tired; he can't afford to be. Not when everyone else is. He would stand before any of them, from the first intellect to the last motoric, in order to take a blow meant for someone frailer, less capable of surviving it. He will endure it instead."

and now I'm sympathetic to him. like, ough. If I understand them, then I learn to love them, and that's also why I'm writing it from Empathy's perspective! Empathy feels what other the other skills feel and does bonding activities with them with similar feelings, does that make sense? i really want to learn characterization for each of them, this fic truly is just an excuse for me to do character studies so i know all their character motivations.

BUT. it also has backstory plot now that im invested in lmao? based off of character design that i have. I STILL NEED TO POST MY SKILL REFS. RAUGH. but yeah all of my stories get too big for me really, i always bite off more than i can chew for projects like this lmao.

Other Fics: Skill Body Swap Fic! its shoved into Unstoppable Force's document for the time being, since this is mostly an excuse for Volition/Echem swap (Echem's body is ~sensitive~ if you're not used to it and i love putting voli through Situations. meanwhile Volition's body has the morale health pool in it that echem has to take care of), and ive only written that specific swap, but i think it'd be cool if i swapped EVERY SKILL.

Logic and Drama would be funny hkjgh Drama would 1) immediately slot into the new role and be extremely good at pretending nothing is wrong. What do you mean, he hasn't switched bodies with anyone? That's highly improbable. 2) love saying lies as if they were appropriate conclusions, and actual Logic would be like "That's literally wrong. Stop that."

Empathy and Composure would be interesting! Empathy's body is constantly picking up on everyone's emotions, and also is always on the brink of tears. Composure's body is not made to experience the same emotions, much less the emotions of others. Empathy's cut off from feeling and Composure is struggling not to fucking cry, poor guy.

Shivers and anyone? I just think Shivers should be small and worried about her connection to Revachol. and some other skill is just like "WHY IS THIS SO OVERWHELMING. HELLO??"

i dont know, theres a lot of ways i could go with this, i'll figure it out lmao. if anyone has suggestions for interesting/funny swaps and is even reading this far, let me know

The Sunrise Momentum. I SWEAR TO GOD IF I DONT WRITE THIS FIC. I NEED TO FUCKING WRITE THIS. Volition's vow with Harry that i cry about once per day. VOLITION IS TO HARRY AS HARRY IS TO REVACHOL. AUGH. "I will do everything in my power to keep you alive. I will keep you on this earth." my knight in lavender armor i am OBSESSED WITH YOUUUU!! *vibrates at high velocity*

okay that's about it, thanks for reading my RAMBLES!!

#inland drabbles #volta transmissions #BIG OL POST!! i love talking about my wips. i have so much to say #sorry this took a bit to compile. every time i checked word counts i added a little more to each story and had to keep updating word counts #ad infinitum forever hkgjh I JUST ADDED 500 MORE WORDS TO SWEPT UP JUST NOW WHILE UPDATING IT!! FUCK!!!#sorry this drama chapter is really fun hkjgh ANYWAY!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! ASK AGAIN ANYTIME <33 #it will be shorter next time i promise. probably. lmao??#task: unstoppable force #task: meet the parts #task: let's make it a home #task: swept up #task: sunrise momentum #esprit: Red

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