#but most of the 'its gone downhill'

[yerifes]

hm, anyways... get hype for hitball!!

[theskymahtin]

I can't stop thinking about the Watcher thing it's just so fascinatingly bizarre . like so many components of that decision and how they handled it were so bad and so completely out of left field for how they've operated in the past I am baffled . Someone put these guys under a microscope Stat

[realbeefman]

not even finishing this season of the boys bc the character assassination my girl starlight is undergoing is actually so fucking criminal. NOT MY ANNIE!!!!!

[eddiepeaches]

venting in the tags just ignore me <333

[mothusband]

send your thoughts to my beloved, we don't think she has much longer left. from a scared stray who lived under a stump and had kittens in an abandoned rotting trailer to the sweetest (but also grouchiest) housecat ever. what a precious little creature 🤍

[vaaaaaiolet]

It's the RPD's annual Secret Santa, and Leon's at his wit's end finding the perfect gift for his work crush. No competition, of course, except for the part where you make him promise not to bring something lame. Leon's got a week. He can do this. Right?

gn / m, fluff, romance, humor, leon is a SWEETHEART, you guys work at the RPD but you're leon's senior and also love reading??, no outbreak, inspired by the teapot episode of The Office lol, tw: claustrophobia

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

a/n: vivi try not to mention christmas challenge go!!! @k1ssaphobe this one's for you <3 literally the ugliest effing banner i've ever made i'm SO SORRY but this completely destroyed my writer's block. i had so much fun <3

It’s all been downhill since Leon plucked your name out of a glass jar last week. Shit. Multiply that times three, rain down a couple red and green sprinkles for holiday spirit, and you have a great representation of how prepared Leon feels about being assigned the most crippling crush he’s had since high school for the RPD’s annual Secret Santa: you. 

Shit, indeed.

His hands shake like tremolo as he rereads your name printed on his little slip of paper, and Leon decides right then and there that the best way to go about this is to not go about it at all. Plain and simple. 

“Aren’t you excited?” you gush after your turn to draw from the jar. Poor you, you’d taken his jittery hands as enthusiasm. 

Leon grins tightly. “For sure, yeah, I um… I love Christmas. Really excited. You get who you wanted?” 

“Hey, no cheating. Not even with me, rookie.” You scrunch your face, clutching your paper to your chest. “Secret Santa’s secret. But it’s no secret that you’ve got to give it your all, so no lousy gifts allowed, got it?”

Well, there’s that plan gone. It’s back to police academy basics: Keep It Simple, Stupid. 

There’s nothing to overthink about making a good impression as the newest RPD recruit, Leon gaslights himself while haunting the Target holiday aisle on Monday night. You routinely save him from Irons’ infamous wrath, so it’s only natural that Leon spends all of Tuesday in a stupor at his desk, definitely not thinking of how he could never pay you back the favor with a silly Secret Santa gift. 

Wednesday rolls by and his coffee from yesterday sits in the break room, cold and overstirred next to today’s breakfast crumbs. How many times has Leon watched you sip tea at your desk? Five, six? 

Your eyes sparkle over the rim of your cup when he asks you about your weekend. Really, he doesn’t get the hate for small talk. There’s nothing small about the smile that bunches up your cheeks when he cracks a stupid joke about the weather, and more often than not, Leon finds himself waterboarding his notes app with the names of all the novels you drop mid-conversation so he can binge their Sparknotes over the weekend. So it goes, according to Kurt Vonnegut.

Ugh, he should have paid more attention in English. What the hell is an allegory anyway? Leon spends all of Thursday browsing your Goodreads profile and wracking his head over the hefty price tags attached to your TBR list. His wallet makes for a terrible wingman. 

But really, finding the perfect gift is no sweat at all. Leon is absolutely nonplussed (according to his 50th vocabulary-related Google search) when he steps into the RPD elevator on Friday morning with a clumsily wrapped, candy cane-striped bundle in his arms. 

“Hold it plea- Leon!”  

Liar, liar, pants on fire – he’s totally shitting his pants when you barely make it inside before the doors snap shut. 

“Thanks,” you gasp. 

Leon nods stiffly, his cheeks growing warm, and jams the second-floor button with his knuckle.

As the elevator starts its maddeningly slow climb, you hum, rocking back and forth in your snow boots. You’re cradling a package of your own, something four-cornered and fairly small. Leon, however, feels like he’s holding a bomb, the object of his affections standing less than three feet from his radius of destruction. How are you so carefree right now? You’ve probably got this gifting thing in the bag and he most definitely doesn’t. 

Leon can see everything unfold the moment he enters the office. You’ve had your gift planned months beforehand, his gift is going to be horrifically lame when you open it, everyone’s going to clap politely but you’re going to hate him forev-

And then the elevator plunges into pitch black.

“Oh my god!” 

Who screamed louder, Leon doesn’t want to find out.

The elevator shudders to a complete stop. Leon’s mental spiral of doom helpfully supplies him with an image of you two dangling in midair, suspended on wires. Maybe this is the universe saving him from delivering the worst Secret Santa gift of his life.

Leon blinks in the darkness, waiting for your unflappable voice to cut through the silence and figure a way out, headstrong as always, except you don’t, and Leon strains his ears to hear what’s surely not what he thinks it is, a whisper that sounds an awful lot like: “Leon, I don’t want to die.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna die,” you whimper. “I don’t wanna die.”

Your voice floats up from a lot lower than he remembers your head being, so he crouches down to find you with your arms hugged to your chest. You’re huddled against the wall, breathing all shallow. The package in your arms lies forgotten somewhere in the abyss.

“Hey, hey, nobody’s dying.” Leon reaches out to find your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“I have, cl-clau-”

“Claustrophobia?” He remembers that one well. Wishes he didn’t. 

You nod fitfully.

“The dark doesn’t help either, huh?” he whispers, craning his head to look at the busted bulb on the ceiling. “Damn.”

Your palm grows colder and clammier in his hand by the minute, and the shakiness in your breathing is starting to worry him. Your head pops above your knees when you hear rustling in the shadows, and then the telltale Christmastime cacophony of wrapping paper being torn to shreds. 

“What are you…?”

“Being resourceful,” Leon grits, tearing his Secret Santa gift open. He fumbles with its contents for a second, slipping something into a plastic compartment. “It’s not the best, but…”

The elevator blooms with soft, golden light.

“...it’ll do.”

“What’s this?” you murmur in awe, cupping your hands around the tiny book light Leon holds. 

“My Secret Santa gift,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I kind of, um, blanked. I’m also really bad at giving gifts, so there’s also this,” he says, pulling out a mug from the heap of trashed wrapping paper.

When I Think About Books, I Touch My Shelf, it announces with impunity. 

Leon blushes when you giggle at the inscription. Things always look better online than in person, rookie mistake. But at least you’re breathing better now. 

“This is amazing,” you laugh, cradling the cup like there’s warmth inside. 

“Not so amazing now that I’ve opened all the packaging.”

“Your Secret Santa won’t mind at all, trust me, not with a gift like this- ‘touch my shelf’, you’re unbelievable! Tell me where you got it.”

He shakes his head. 

“Leon Scott Kennedy, if you don’t stop gatekeeping this incredible mug and this super useful book light, by the way, I’m going to tell Irons you spilled coffee all over his desk. I can be very convincing, y’know.” You cross your arms decidedly, waiting. 

“There’s no need for all that!” he protests. 

“That was a promise, Leon, not a threat.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.”

“You’re still not telling me.” 

“It’s for you, silly.” Leon tilts his head, face heating up faster than the book light bulb, “You’re my Secret Santa.” 

He must be hallucinating the pink in your cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe. 

“Yes, oh,” Leon teases, scooching to sit next to you. “I couldn’t think of anything,” he confesses, “so I just went with the basics. I know you read and I know you really miss your old tea mug, the one that broke, right? You’re my gifting competition and I got nervy from how sure you were about your person’s gift. So, um, I played safe.” Leon finishes lamely and squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the light doesn’t also illuminate the shame radiating from his body. 

And then he feels the press of an unbelievably soft kiss on his cheek.  

“It’s much better than what I’ve got,” he hears. 

His eyes fly open. Words don’t form right in his throat when you reach out for the package you dropped when the lights went out. Wrapping paper falls apart neatly in your hands (what don’t you do perfectly?) and you unveil a mini waffle iron, proportioned perfectly for somebody always running late without breakfast. Somebody like Leon.

“You keep missing breakfast and Irons is on my ass about saving you food all the time, so I guess took the practical route too,” you shuffle your feet, bashful all of a sudden. “And um, my gift’s kind of useless if we never make it out. Sorry.”

He fingers the tag in wonder. 

Merry Christmas, Leon! There’s a timer so you don’t burn them :) xoxo, your Secret Santa!

You’re so goddamn sweet. You’re perfect and thoughtful and it’s all your fault that Leon didn’t have the faintest clue what to give you. Think, Leon, think. He knows he’s not this stupid. What do you give to somebody who has everything? 

A kiss. One that’s all smiles and just as sweet as the way you kiss him back, because screw Secret Santa.

It’s hard to keep secrets when you’re Leon’s favorite one.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Down on Yeoh luck (dp x dc)

“Hey Alysiah, I’m ordering from Del Taco, you want anything?” Jazz yelled for her roommate.

“No, thanks,” said roommate answered as she popped her head around the corner of the living room. “I have a date with Jo tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” Jazz said. “Say hi to her from me.”

Alysiah waved her hand agreeably before disappearing around the bend. A few seconds later she was back with two dresses in hand. “Which one do you like better?” 

Jazz uncrossed her legs and leaned in. “How formal is it?”

“Not. We’re going to a wine bar,” Alysiah said, “Jo knows the owner.”

“Is there going to be food?” Jazz asked, though her mind was still on the two dresses.

“Snacks, but I had a late lunch just in case,” her roommate said.

Jazz nodded before pointing towards one of the dresses. “The black one.”

“Thanks, Jazz!”

A few moments later, Alysiah walked back out wearing the dress and Jazz settled back in to watch some old reruns of some old detective show. Then it was time for supper and she reheated a plate for herself before settling back down in front of the TV, with no plans to move for the rest of the night. And so she did.

Since she’d come to Gotham, life had become pretty peaceful. Not that Gotham was a peaceful city, far from it, but she wasn’t in the thick like she had been back in Amity. It was, well, nice to be able to have an evening completely to herself.

Just as she had the thought, a spectral vulture phased through her ceiling, its fez hat bright red and apparent.

“Seriously!” Jazz said as she jumped behind the couch as an ectoblast hit it, and crawled for her bag she’d left in the entryway, a few meters away

“Plasmius sends his regrets that he couldn’t come fetch you in person.”

This was borderline insulting. To think, Vlad had believed that one of his feathered minion could single-handedly grab her. Jazz reached her bag, and started rummaging quietly in it.

“Plasmius requires your presence,” continued the vulture, not even trying to get a line of sight to his kidnappee, which wow. Henchman-ery had really gone downhill hadn’t it?

She closed her fingers around the metal cylinder and with a victorious smirk, aimed the lipstick laser and fired right into vulture’s stomach, sending it flying into the wall, and tumbling down.

Without wasting a second, Jazz booked it for her room and went straight for the closet. She extracted a box and took her Fenton thermos out of it, and as she started turning, caught a movement on the side of her eyes.

She got down to the ground, the vulture’s talon only brushing her shirt before it phased through her closet and out of her bedroom.

Knowing her best bet was to get to the most open space so the vulture couldn’t take advantage of its intangibility as much, she ran back to the living room. Where she stood in the middle of the room, slowly pivoting in a circle, waiting. There was nothing but the sound of her breath and the vague mumblings coming from the still-open TV. 

Then, the hair on her nape stood up, and there was the sound of a key in the lock.

Jazz didn’t have time to look because just then, the vulture dove for her. She rolled away, barely evading the talons once again and came up to her feet, just in time to point the thermos and soup the vulture in for good.

With a relived huff she capped the thermos and froze as she caught sigh of her roommate standing in the entryway, her face frozen in surprise.

There was a beat as the two girls just looked at each other, before Alysiah let out a long sigh.

“If I had a nickel for every time my red headed roommate turned out to be a vigilante,” she started. “I’d have two nickels.”

Jazz tilted her head. “That is weird that it happened twice.”

[kyracooneyx23]

Waldosia

Leah Williamson

summary: Leah still isn't over the fact that you're gone and can't help but looking for you in the crowd every game, even though she knows you'll never be there.

warnings: mentions of death, slight angst, depression, just lots of yapping at the end, not a happy ending. (cringe warning)

waldosia: /wawl-doh-zhuh/ n.  a condition in which you keep scanning faces in a crowd looking for a specific person who would have no reason to be there, as if your brain is checking to see whether they're still in your life, subconsciously patting its emotional pockets before it leaves for the day.

You'd had Leah Williamson hooked from the very first time the two of you had met. You'd caught her attention with you're bright smile and warm laugh. She couldn't get enough of you, you were like a drug.

Leah Williamson had brightened up your world during some of the darkest moments in your life. You'd lost your mum to cancer and your sister had stopped speaking to you. When all seemed lost, she gave you a reason to keep pushing even when you didn't think you could.

You were a wreck but that hadn't stopped her from loving you.

The two of you shared a love so special, you were the first person she'd run to when celebrating a win, but also the first persons arms she'd fall into after a tough loss.

She was there to hold you when you missed your mum, and bring back your smile when your sister consistently ignored your calls.

You and Leah had found each other when you were both most in need of love the most.

But it was all a secret.

A love too good for the rest of the world to know.

You feared what would happen if the fans found out. Scared that Leah would be ashamed of a girlfriend like you.

You're insecurities screamed at you, that small voice in your mind a constant reminder that you'd never be good enough for the one and only Leah Williamson

But Leah thought you were perfect, you were real and that's what she needed.

She needed someone who wasn't afraid to talk about their emotions, someone who was there when Leah needed a shoulder to cry on. Someone to keep her head on straight.

And eventually the two of you started to break out of your little shell, finally brave enough to show a little PDA, even if it was only holding hands when the two of you went out together.

You'd even started allowing Leah to kiss you after her games, no longer restricting her to just a short hug.

But of course just as you started to think that everything was going to be good, it began to go downhill.

Down a hill so steep that not even the most powerful breaks could stop the fall.

Fans were too nosy for their own good, trying to get involved in people's business that didn't concern them.

They'd call you ugly, saying that Leah should break up with you and find someone better.

Leah said it was fine, she promised to never stop loving you, no matter what anyone said. You were her world and she swore it would always stay that way. She wasn't going to let this affect her.

But you could tell it wasn't true, you noticed. And so did everyone else. Her performances on the pitch were lacking the quality they used to have. It was clear to everyone that her mind was elsewhere.

And it was. You were all she could think about. Your broken face when you'd look online and see another post dissing you. The tears you'd quickly rub out of your eyes whenever she'd walk in the room, trying to pretend you hadn't been crying.

The guilt was eating you up, and as much as you despised the thought of it, you knew that the only way to fix things was to leave.

And while it would obviously hurt for a while, you'd both get over it. Maybe Leah would find someone new. Someone better. That could give her the love and life she deserved.

You're bags were packed a note left on the side.

That was the last time Leah had ever heard from the love of her life.

She'd tried hard, so hard, to get you back. She'd called you so many times that she'd had to pay unreasonable amounts just to get more data, praying that you'd pick up.

But you never did. Every single time it would ring to voice mail, and she'd leave the same message, begging you to come home.

but her speech would always be cut off by that annoying beeping noise, signaling that she'd run out of time and she'd once again be left alone. No clues to tell her if you'd listened to her and all she could do was cry.

A year later she was still not fixed. It seemed that when you had left, you'd taken part of her with you. She no longer had her favourite person to celebrate with, and suddenly winning the conti cup was no longer as special.

Her jokes were lacking, her eyes not shining as bright as they used to. And everyone noticed, they noticed the change in Leah's demeanor and how talks about you were no longer a usual part of Leah's chats. All that was left was a crack in her voice and tears welling in her eyes from the mere thought of you.

Currently, she was walking around the emirates stadium. Waving to fans who were wildly celebrating the win. But she wasn't paying attention any of them.

She had made a habit of unintentionally looking for you in every crowd, a small part in the back of her mind hoping that one day you'd be there smiling back at her just like you used to. But you never were, and every time Leah would be left alone, but sleep would not come without your arms holding her until she dozed off.

The English captain was doing a pretty good job of keeping everything to herself as she did a lap, until she saw a familiar flash of brown hair in the stands. And that's when her mind went into shambles. She momentarily stopped walking in her tracks and stared at the girl, for a second being convinced that it was you. And then another girl came into view this time with darker brown hair, but she once again was convinced this was you. It was like her mind was playing tricks on her. You're not fucking here...

She brought her hands up to her face and rubbed her eyes harshly, hoping that by doing so she'd slap some common sense into herself. But when she lifted her head, she couldn't stop herself from looking around again, from looking for you. It was as if her brain had set its mind onto something, and decided on finding you in the crowd of 60,000 people. But seeing as it was impossible to actually find you, she just felt as if she was going mental.

Lia, who noticed Leah's fidgeting, looked up at her and grabbed her hand, shooting a warm smile at her friend who was clearly distressed. It wasn't the first time the English had acted this way after a game and it was clear to all the girls the reason why.

'There's someone here to see you.' Lia Walti whispered, causing Leah's stomach to flip.

Was it you? Had you finally come out of hiding?

Lia began leading her towards the crowd of excited people.

At this point, Leah's hands were shaking and her free hand was fumbling with the untucked hem of her jersey. Her heart was racing faster than it ever had before and her breaths were becoming shorter, feeling as if she were starting to lose herself.

What if it actually was you? What would she do if you were here in the stands right now?

Lia lead her towards where Beth Mead and Alessia Russo was already standing, but before they could even reach it Leah abruptly stopped walking. Her eyes snapped up to the girl who Beth was chatting with, eyes narrowing as she couldn't believe the sight before her. It was you, it really was you this time. The long brown hair, which looked a lot darker now (but Leah just assumed that you'd dyed it in the time you were gone) the laugh that made her eyes light up, the jersey with the number 6 on the back that you always wore to her games. And although she couldn't see your face she was sure it was you.

'Y/n?' Leah whispered so quietly, still at least ten meters away, thinking no one could hear her, but of course Lia did.

'It's not her.' She said sadly looking over to Leah who's face fell, her hopeful expression now replaced with a broken one. 'It's just Alex.'

Her eyes filled up with tears and she quickly dropped her hand from Lia's, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea run through her as she responded, 'Fuck, I-I'm... I...,'

Her sentence trailed off as she looked up at the concerned face looking at her, but she couldn't finish her sentence. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt like her throat was closing up, quickly inhaling and exhaling in short breaths. She was scared, terrified, of the way she was feeling. The tricks that her mind kept playing on her, giving her hope only to crush it ten seconds later.

'I can't be here anymore, tell Alex I said hi.' Leah tells the Swiss girl before sharply turning around and leaving the stadium, not caring what the fans or players would say.

It was only once she finally got into the car that she let her emotions fully take over, tears streaming down her face as she slammed her face against the steering wheel.

Why would you do this to her? Why would you leave in attempts to make things better when in reality it was just making Leah spiral. A sudden surge of anger coursed through her veins, she was mad at you for causing so much pain when all she did was give you all her love.

She was mad at the fans, and all the other people that had made you feel like you weren't good enough, when you were more than that. You were the best human being she knew, you had a heart too big for this cruel would and nobody had the right to take that away.

Nothing could hurt Leah anymore, so for what felt like the millionth time since you'd left she picked up her phone and pressed on your numbers in her contacts. She couldn't care less if you didn't pick up, no amount of pain could ever hurt someone as numb as she was.

The phone rang for a solid thirty seconds, and Leah was about to give up and just go home when she heard a soft voice coming from her car speakers.

'Hello, who is this?' Your voice rung out and Leah could almost cry from happiness and relief. You were actually talking to her, you were still there and you sounded almost happy.

'Y/n... Is that you?' Leah asks softly, not hearing the gasp coming from your lips. She was shocked that you picked up for once, not knowing that the only reason was because she'd had her caller id off from earlier in the day.

You wouldn't have picked up if you had known.

'Leah?' You're voice was full of shock, the buzz from before gone. 'What are you doing?'

'What do you think I'm doing.' The defender exclaims, 'I've been worried sick about you for a whole year. I have no clue where you are or why you left. was it me? Did I do something wrong?' Her voice trails off as she leans back into her seat running her hand through her bleach blonde hair whilst anxiously biting the nails off her fingers on the other.

'Leah, you shouldn't have called.' She can hear the nerves in your voice but it doesn't stop her from getting angry. 'I've really got to go.'

'No.' She snaps into the phone 'You're staying on this call until you tell me why you left.'

'You know perfectly well why I left Leah.' But she didn't, ever since you'd been gone that was the one thing the Lioness wanted to know the answer to.

'I don't, I wish I did but I don't.' A sigh is heard over the phone line and Leah can hear papers rustling about before you speak again.

'I don't know why you care Leah. You've seemed to move on perfectly, you have Lia now and I'm not there to bring you and your career down with my mess of a life.' At first Leah was mad, mad that you'd ever think you were bringing her down, then confused what were you talking about when you said that she 'had Lia now'.

'Lia?' She says softly voicing her confusement.

'You don't have to act innocent Leah. I'm happy for you and Lia, you're great for each other and as long as you're happy so am I.' It's funny how well Leah knows you, even though you were only together for a short time, she could sense the small smile that you were obviously faking as you said this.

'I'm not with Lia.' Leah says, louder this time to make her point clear, 'how could I ever get with someone when you still have my heart. You had it from the very first time I laid eyes on you, and I'd like it back. Almost as much as I want my girlfriend to come back home.' She laughs lightly, although there is nothing humorous about the conversation the two of you were having. 'You can't expect me to love someone when I've already given you all the love I had.'

'Leah, you need to move on. It's better that way. It's better for you and your career, like I said before I'm not letting myself bring you down anymore.' You say firmly, trying to ignore the ache in your heart knowing after this conversation you might lose the best thing you've ever had, and never get her back. 'You know how much I hate goodbyes, and I would much rather this be hello, but it really is time you move on.' Tears were spilling down your cheeks now and you couldn't stop them.

'I can't move on, you know that.'

Silence filled the car Leah was in and the small office where you were sitting matched that silence. No one daring to speak not knowing the right words to say any more, there was no clear way that this conversation was going to end. You wanted to give Leah the life she deserved whereas the Brit was adamant that you were the one she wanted.

'You messed me up y/n/n, you really did. You left when things got hard, because it was easier for you to walk out than fight for us and I thought you were stronger than that. I lay awake at night, every night, wondering why god brought you into my life, only to take you away from me and leave me a broken mess. I make mistakes, we all do, and if you're a mistake then you're the best mistake I've ever made. But it's still left me broken and I guess that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for caring too much, sorry for feeling joy when I'm around, sorry for feeling safe in your arms, sorry for getting so addicted to you that it feels like I can't think right when your not around, sorry for all the calls and thinking they were a good idea. But most of all I'm sorry that I'm never going to stop loving you and I'm never going to stop trying until I get you back.'

A sob escaped from you, you couldn't hold it back. It was the most heartfelt thing you'd ever heard anyone say, Leah was never going to stop loving you and you would never stop loving her. And maybe in another life where you weren't as depressed and could keep your shit together without pulling down other people with you, you and Leah could've had the happily ever after that are always written in children's fairytales.

Because maybe all along your love story really was just a case of right person, wrong time.

And that was the most fucked up joke the universe could ever play on you.

[nathaslosthershit]

A Big Decision (Teen Dad!Oscar AU)

(Part 8 of Teen Dad!OP au [Can be read on its own])

Summary: It is time to pop the big question

The twins had finally gone down for a nap after spending so long fighting it. The kids, at age three, have started to fight them more and more, leading their parents to start discussing if it's time for naps to stop. Honey, being a stay at home mom, had needed the nap time as much as her kids had in the past, giving her time to catch up on chores or just rest for a little, so she was really trying to get as much time as she could with it. But maybe it truly was over.

She was surprised to see Oscar pacing in their living room once she went back downstairs.

“Well, aren't you home early?” She says as Oscar immediately wraps his arms around her, burying his head in her neck and kissing it.

“Missed you all, did what they needed from me extra fast so I could get home earlier. Thought we could maybe go out tonight?”

“Oscar, it's a friday night. Do you know how impossible getting a babysitter would be? The kids also take a while to warm up to babysitters, I don’t think it's a good idea.”

“Good thing I thought ahead then. Lando had a free night and has been begging to see them after the last ‘betrayal’ when they wore Sargeant hats. Even better, he said he would do it for free if it meant working towards being the favorite.”

“Oscar, you can’t get your coworkers to babysit your twin toddlers for free by dangling favoritism in their faces.”

“It was his idea! I am just capitalizing off of it. I got us a nice reservation too, we just need to let him now in the next…” Oscar checks his wrist where his watch usually rests but finds it missing, “uh now. So I need an answer quickly, are we going to stay home and eat the same leftovers we have had for the past two days, or are we going to make Lando Norris the happiest man alive by letting him watch our kids for free while we have an amazingly romantic dinner?” Oscar quickly asks as he takes his ex-fiancee, now girlfriend, in his arms.

“Fine, let's go out, we could use the night off. Let Lando know I appreciate him watching them for us.”

“Perfect, why don’t you go out, do something nice for yourself, I'll take over with the kids. We still have time before dinner tonight.” Oscar suggested in a strange tone as he kissed all surface area of her face.

“What is up with you today? I don’t mind it but you are so much more touchy.” She laughed.

“Don’t worry bout a thing.” Was all he replied as he walked away. “Tonight will be the best yet, I promise.”

That’s when it struck her, why he was being so weird. Surely, he was going to propose.

After the huge fight in Suzuka, she had called the engagement off, causing them to ignore each other’s existence unless it came to the kids, for seven weeks. Since they had gotten back together, life had been blissful. Sure, it was most likely the ‘honeymoon’ phase of their relationship, but even so, they had been so ready to marry each other before things started going downhill. Maybe days after they got back together isn’t the right time to get engaged, but they had been to hell and back together since they got pregnant at 18 years old, they were it for each other, always would be. 

Oscar taking off of racing had also been a blessing. It had been hard for him, certainly. But he had needed to learn how to put his family first again, a priority that got harder to keep up with since joining Formula 1. 

As she sat in the nail salon chair, getting what were hopefully her engagement nails done, she thought back to how far they’d come. 

Arriving home with her nails done, and after getting the most amazing massage, Honey was giddy as she greeted her, hopefully, soon to be fiancé. After an hour and a half of filling her head with wedding plans and thinking about their future when she would finally get to be Mrs. Piastri after 7 years, she was more excited then she was the first time he proposed. 

This excitement continued from the moment she stepped into the shower, till the moment she sat in her seat at the restaurant. Oscar had hired a driver for the night, saying it was a night all for them, no need to be careful of how many drinks they were going to have, he had also told her he had plans to take them to the beach after where they could finish the night with a picnic by the water and stay as late as they liked. 

There was one thing that was off about him though, while she had expected nerves, she had also expected excitement from him and soon noticed the more giggly she was, the more upset he seemed to be. Maybe he realized she had caught on?

She finally asked what was up after he spilt his drink.

“Seriously Osc, what is wrong with you? You claim this is such a nice night for just the two of us but you are a mess right now!”

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m like th-”

“Bullshit. I thought I made it clear how awful of a liar you are Oscar Jack Piastri, just tell me. Please?”

Silence filled the air as he stared at her, words failing.

“I will get up if you don’t-”

“I had a meeting with higher ups at McLaren earlier today and was told if I don’t come back then I am out of the contract and I agreed to come back for the Spanish Grand Prix!” Oscar blurted out.

Again, a heavy silence landed on the couple, both of them daring the other one to speak first.

Then, without a single word, Honey got up from the table and walked to the car leaving Oscar at the table, tears starting to fall.

Part 2 out now!

[slaybestieslay946]

Luke Castellan and Persephone!Child (I know she doesn’t canonically have Demi-god kids but I feel like it fits well) with a story similar to Eurydice and Orpheus’s sad tale.

thank you so much for your request, it acc ties in really well to a fic idea ive had for a while, so i was so excited to see this in my inbox!!

Circle

MASTERLIST

word count: 1800

pairing: luke castellan x persephone!reader

warnings: death, minor depictions of violence, angst

a/n: partly inspired by the request, partly by mitski's song 'circle' honestly i think it made this extra gut-wrenching. hope you all enjoy!

'Nobody knows my lover, is buried underground.'

When Luke Castellan received his quest, everyone knew who he would pick to take with him. 

Immediately, he turned to you, flashing you a bright grin, and beckoning you towards him. You laughed, wading through the crowd to your lover, smiling brightly all the way. 

The rest of camp half blood rolled their eyes fondly at the pair of you, and just how disgustingly in love you were. 

It had been like this ever since you arrived at camp half blood, mere months after Luke himself. 

You’d been escorted to the Hermes cabin by one of the older campers, and sat down on a bunk bed. You had looked around the place, lost, confused, and homesick. 

And then a boy stepped up to you, asking how you were, what your name was. And gods, even at the age of 14, you knew he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Luke thought the same about you. 

He was so drawn to you, he couldn’t stay away. 

Now, even 4 years later, nothing had changed. 

He was openly enraptured by you, just as Hades was with your mother. He was never seen without you by his side, so of course he’d pick you to bring on his first quest.

A few days later, you set off, Luke’s half-brother, Chris Rodriguez in tow. Everything started off well, you’d managed to locate someone to tell you where the Garden of Hesperides was, in order to retrieve the golden apple that you had been sent for. 

On the way there, you hardly encountered any monsters. You lived comfortably, even if you slept in motels every night, and dined on gas station food. 

It all went downhill when you finally reached the garden. 

You and Chris stood guard whilst Luke stepped towards the tree, no sword in his hand. You kept your spear gripped tightly in your hand, should he awake the dragon sleeping at his feet. 

He eventually reached the foot of the tree, taking a deep breath before reaching up into the branches, and trying to snag one of the apples. Meanwhile, you didn’t take your eyes off the dragon, watching it for any sign of movement. 

And when it finally opened its dark eye, looking up at Luke, you ran forward, sprinting towards it with your spear outstretched to stab it. 

But you weren’t fast enough, and it turned, slashing a talon across your chest, and sending you collapsing onto the ground, blood soaking into your shirt. 

Luke darted towards you and in his rush, he wasn’t able to avoid the sharp tail of the dragon whipping across his face, leaving a fine cut all the way down it. 

He ignored the biting pain, barely able to register it when all he could see was you, lying on the floor, a pool of blood encircling you. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, patting your cheek gently, cradling your body to his chest, “You’re gonna be alright, yeah? Just open your eyes for me baby.” 

You struggled to do as he asked, looking up at your lover with confused eyes. 

“You-” You coughed, “You have to go. It’s over for me. Gonna go see mom.”

“No, no. Gotta stay with me. We can get through this.” He cried, brushing his thumbs across your face.

“I- I- I love y-you. W-we’ll s-see each other ag-gain.” You did your best to smile, and while all you wanted to do was reach up and hold his face, you found you didn’t have the strength to do so. 

He continued to cry and beg you to come back, but it was all for nothing, you’d gone silent, and your eyes were all still. 

And then vines began to wrap around your body, pulling you into the earth, down towards Persephone, your mother. 

Luke kept crying as they took you away from him, leaving nothing but your camp necklace behind. 

“Hey, man, we gotta go.” He heard Chris call, and he whipped his head around to berate him, until he saw his half-brother was currently in combat with the dragon that had killed you. 

He was right, they had to go. 

He scooped your camp necklace off of the ground, and ran towards his brother, who detached from his fight with the dragon to run away from the garden. Luke followed after him, tears streaming down his face the whole way. 

*

When Luke got back to camp, he was different. Numb. 

Annabeth ran up to him when they descended the hill, a bright smile on her face at her older brother's return. It faded slightly when she saw you weren’t right beside him. 

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, looking around as if you’d pop out from nowhere.

“Gone.” Was all Luke could manage to say, pulling his little sister in for a hug he so desperately needed, confirmation that at least she was still here. 

For the next few months, he barely left the Hermes cabin, only ever going down to the amphitheatre in the early hours of the morning, where he could be seen slashing recklessly at wooden dummies left right and centre. 

He didn’t know how to live without you. He always thought you’d be with him forever. He had this vision that together you would grow old, and would die while sitting on some front porch, holding hands as you went at the same moment. 

Now he realised that it was a pipedream. You were demigods, it was never going to work out like that. 

But he couldn’t go on living like this. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning if you weren’t beside him. So he formed his plan, to go down to the underworld and retrieve you himself. 

His father was the god of travellers, and your mother was the queen of the underworld. It could work. 

So he travelled to the entrance to the underworld, your camp necklace in his hands, and prayed. First to your mother, asking for an audience, and second to his father, asking for use of his access to the underworld. It was the first time he had ever asked Hermes for anything, and if this worked, it would probably be the last. He’d never want for anything again if it meant you were with him again. 

And it did work. The gate opened to him, a long staircase down into the darkness. Luke descended quickly; he didn’t want to keep Persephone, or you for that matter, waiting.

He soon found himself pushing through crowds of lost souls, keeping a look out for you, but you were nowhere in sight. He then turned his attention back to reaching Persephone’s throne, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally found himself at the foot of it, looking up at the goddess herself. 

“You requested an audience with me, Mr Castellan. I hope this is not about my daughter.” Persephone said sternly, looking down at the demigod, her fears confirmed when she saw the string of beads clutched in his hands. 

“It is, but-”

“There’s no buts. I can’t do anything about your predicament. It is not within my jurisdiction.” She declared, her voice growing regretful, “My daughter is in Elysium, and that’s where she must stay.” 

“My lady, I understand that this is difficult for you. But we both know Y/N… died before her time. She would want to come back. She deserves to have a life.” 

“And you would give that to her?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you would protect her, better than I can?”

Luke gulped, “Just as well.” 

The goddess sighed, and muttered, almost to herself, “We have had this problem before, persuasive mortals and their tales of love. Let’s see if you can fare any better, Luke Castellan.” 

“I will release my only daughter from the underworld, on one condition. As you lead her back into the world of the living, you mustn’t look back at her. She will be following you, trust me on that, demigod.” 

“And if I do? Look back?” 

“Then you will never see her again. Not in your world, nor mine,” She looked down at him once again, a sad look in her eyes, “Now go, exit through the fields of asphodel, she will follow you from there.” 

Luke nodded firmly, and turned back around, returning the way he came, smiling more brightly than he had in months. 

He was going to see his Y/N again, all he had to do was not look back at her, how difficult could that be?

He pushed his way back through the fields of asphodel, keeping a tight hold of her camp beads. As soon as they reached the surface, he would string them around her neck again. He’d be able to hold her face in his palms, to kiss her, to hug her. Everything would be alright again. 

As he returned to the staircase, he felt a rush of wind behind him. It had to be her. Then, to confirm his suspicions, he heard soft footsteps on the stone staircase. Luke smiled to himself once again, wishing so desperately that he could greet her, but not wanting to break Persephone’s rules. 

He continued up the staircase for what felt like hours, it was definitely taking him a lot longer this time. The thing that kept him going was your footsteps behind him, a reminder that you were still there, following after him. 

Until they stopped, right as he became able to see the light coming from the living world above him. 

He paused for a moment, listening out for you. But he couldn’t hear anything besides his panting breaths and the odd screech of a harpy. 

Luke began to grow worried, a pit forming in his stomach, but he kept climbing the stairs. Persephone told him you’d be following, she wouldn’t lie, would she?

Or maybe it was all some elaborate joke. Fortune hadn’t been on his side recently. 

Maybe he should check. Just a peek, it couldn’t hurt, could it? What was so wrong about him looking back anyway, why shouldn’t he want to see his lover, the girl he would do anything for?

So he did. He turned, to look over his shoulder. 

And of course, you were right behind him, just like your mother said you would. 

At first you looked joyful to see him, and then your face fell in horror as you realised what he had done. You reached out to touch him, to hold on, but you couldn’t quite reach. And then you felt yourself being pulled back, away from him. 

Luke watched on in horror as you fell back into the abyss.

[charyou-tree]

I need people to understand that Uranium is an eldritch horror

I'm not talking about radiation, or nuclear weapons, or anything that you can do with uranium, I mean its mere existence on Earth is a reminder of cosmic horrors on a scale you can barely conceive of.

When a nuclear power plant uses Uranium to boil water and spin steam turbines to keep the lights on, they're unleashing the fossilized energy of the destroyed heart of an undead star.

Allow me to elaborate:

In the beginning, there were hydrogen and helium. The primordial fires of the Big Bang produced almost exclusively the two lightest elements, along with a minuscule trace of lithium. It was a start, but that's not much to build a universe out of. Fortunately, the universe is full of element factories. We call them "stars".

Stars are powered by nuclear fusion, smooshing light elements together to make heavier elements, and releasing tremendous amounts of energy in the process, powering the star and making it shine. This goes on for millions to billions of years depending on the stars mass (although not how you might think, the bigger stars die young), the vast majority of that time spent fusing hydrogen into yet more helium. Eventually, the hydrogen in the core starts to run low, and if the star is massive enough it starts to fuse helium into carbon, then oxygen, neon, and so on up through successively heavier elements.

There's a limit to this though:

This chart shows how much energy is released if you were to create a given element/isotope out of the raw protons and neutrons that make it up, the Nuclear Binding Energy. Like in everyday life, rolling downhill on this chart releases energy. So, starting from hydrogen on the far left you can rapidly drop down to helium-4 releasing a ton of energy, and then from there to carbon-12 releasing a fair bit more.

But, at the bottom of this curve is iron-56, the most stable isotope. This is the most efficient way to pack protons and neutrons together, and forming it releases some energy. But once its formed, that's it. You're done. Its already the most stable, you can't get any more energy out of it, and in fact if you want to do anything to it and make it into a different element you're going to have to put energy in.

So, when a massive star's core starts to fill up with iron, the star is doomed. Iron is like ash from the nuclear fire that powers stars, its what's leftover when all the fuel is used up. When this happens, the core of the star isn't producing energy and can't support itself anymore and catastrophically collapses, triggering a supernova explosion which heralds the death of the star.

What kind of stellar-corpse gets left behind depends again on how massive the star is. If its really big, more than ~30 times the mass of the sun and its probably going to form a black hole and whatever was in there is gone for good. But if the star is a bit less massive, between 8-25 solar masses, it leaves behind a marginally less-destroyed corpse.

The immense weight of the outer layers of the star falling down on the core compresses the electrons of the atoms into their nuclei, resulting in them reacting with protons and turning them all into neutrons, which creates a big ball of almost pure neutrons a couple miles across, but containing the entire mass of the star's core, 3-5 sun's worth.

This is the undead heart of the former star: a neutron star.

If, like many stars, this one wasn't alone but had a sibling, it can end up with two neuron stars orbiting each other, like a pair of zombies acting out their former lives. If they get close enough together, their intense gravity warps the fabric of spacetime as they orbit, radiating away their orbital energy as gravitational waves, slowing them down and bringing them closer together until they eventually collide.

The resulting kilonova explosion destroys both of the neutron stars, most likely rendering the majority of what's left into a black hole, but not before throwing out a massive cloud of neutron-rich shrapnel. This elder-god blood-splatter from the collision of the undead hearts of former stars contains massive nuclei with hundreds to thousands of neutrons, the vast majority of which are heinously unstable and decay away in milliseconds or less. Most of their decay products are also unstable and decay quickly as well, eventually falling apart into small enough clusters to be stable and drift off into the universe becoming part of the cosmic dust between the stars.

However,

Some of the resulting massive elements are merely almost stable. They would like to decay, but for quantum-physics reasons decaying is hard and slow for them, so they stick around much longer than you might expect. Uranium is one such element, with U-238 having a half-life of around 4.5 billion years, about the same as the age of the Earth, and its spicier cousin U-235 which still has a respectable 200 million year half life.

These almost-stable isotopes were only able to be created in the fiery excess of energy in a neutron star collision, and are the only ones that stick around long enough to carry a fraction of that energy to the era where hairless apes could figure out that a particular black rock made of them was emitting some kind of invisible energy.

So as I said at the beginning, Uranium is significant because it stores the fossilized energy of the destroyed heart of an undead star, and we can release that energy at will if we set it up just right.

When you say it like that, is it any shock that the energy in question will melt your face off and rot your bones from the inside if you stay near it too long?

[frozenbluecookies]

Eloise talking to Colin about Cressida and being like "the friendship had already begun to sour" BITCH WHERE????

When?????

Literally the only thing I can think of that happened before the engagement party was Cressida rushing off to talk to Debling in ep 4, leaving Eloise alone. And that really doesn't seem like a big enough thing on its own to "sour" a whole friendship.

Was she counting their argument at the engagement party in this? Because honestly, I think Eloise was the one most at fault there. I understand why she was preoccupied at the time, but at the end of the day, all Cressida was doing was asking for her only friend's support, and said friend just brushed her off. And in any case, I don't think you can say that was an example of the relationship already souring when it happened mere minutes before Cressida's announcement.

Are we supposed to count the "that Bridgerton girl" thing in with this? Because that was very clearly Cressida's father, not Cressida herself. And, if anything, Cressida chosing to spend time with Eloise despite her father's wishes should have been a reinforcement of that friendship. (And, to that point, literally what was the point of reinforcing that friendship if the writers were just gonna pull a "the relationship was souring" barely 2 episodes later???)

Is it because she wasn't really paying attention while Eloise was ranting, earlier on in ep 5? Because personally I think being worried about being forced to marry a man old enough to be your grandfather is a very valid reason to be distracted. Eloise even says that she wouldn't have gone on and on if she'd known that Cressida was dealing with that.

You can't just say that the relationship has been going downhill, without ever showing the relationship going downhill. It just feels like such an out-of-nowhere statement. You want Eloise and Cressida to be back on bad terms? Fine. Then back it up. Build to it properly, and in a way that makes sense.

[eldritchreveries]

Heya, Hilda community. i just want to say that my time in the fandom is coming to an end.

A post detailing my thoughts and time here in the fandom below.

A lot has happened in the past 4 years since i joined this fandom, its the first and only fandom i've ever become entwined with on this level. Making a 3-year long comic dedicated to my favorite character and all-

I met some cool people i'm now irl friends with while being here, being in this community helped me grow my art skills massively since 2020 and i'll forever be grateful for that. However- I think we can all admit this fandom has gone massively downhill in just this year alone.

I found out someone I was friends with was a predator (looking at you, ExJr), i found out some of the most known figures here are also predators. Its not a place i feel is safe anymore, & i don't want to be part of a community where predators feel welcome or forgiven bc "they deserve a 2nd chance". No, they don't.

As a mother, its scary what many of the people in this fandom are capable of- either doing/saying gross things to minors, or quickly forgiving these predators to "save the fandom from dying", when in reality they're chasing away the good fans in favor of hiding self-confessed predators.

Unfortunately, this means the cancellation of my other planned Hilda comic "Beyond the City Wall", as well. The characters from this series havent been scrapped however- they're being repurposed to have a new home in my upcoming original comic series.

I'm sorry to anyone who was looking forward to that Hilda comic, but I'm weary of it all. The drama, the continuous unveiling of dangerous people i thought were better than that, the toxicity of a fairly large chunk of the fandom i dealt with due to simple pride month art-

I will finish putting out all of the work i did on Abby- such as concept art, vectors, doodles, etc- maybe will still do some Abigail fanart now and then bc let's face it- i've basically claimed her as mine lol. But as for the rest-

This is the end of the line for my Hilda content. I really appreciate yall who supported me on my journey making Abby, and again- i really hope you stay for my original work. I put as much love into it as i did with Abby 💙

Also i'll be rebranding soon! Keep an eye out for that

[showtoonzfan]

So I really love mascot horror. Recently people say it’s gone downhill and isn’t good anymore because the “cutsey children’s play place/mascot/media is secretly haunted or evil” trope has been done to death, and it has. To me however, I think as long as you add new and interesting elements to it, it’s an enjoyable genre.

It all started with Fnaf, but people fell out of love with the trope. I think Poppy playtime is the most recent one of this genre that’s popular but even then people say there’s nothing cool about and it’s just a rip off of Fnaf, which I have to agree, I don’t think there’s anything special about the lore though I do want to see where the story goes. Bendy and the Ink Machine is another popular one, but I’ve seen some people say it fell off and it’s lore/gameplays are messy. (I’m not really into BATIM but I’ll definitely rewatch gameplays of it to see if I get invested in it)

That’s why I think a good example of this trope that added something engaging (other than The analog horror “The Walten Files” cause that’s at the top) is the indie horror game “Amanda The Adventure”. I’m a HUGE fan of the game. Even though it follows the “kids company is secretly corrupt and there’s an evil force in the kids show) I think the gameplay itself is so good with its puzzles and the lore has got me SO invested, because the main focus isn’t the “demon”, it’s the human characters behind the cartoon, the missing girl who voiced Amanda. I really think it should become a trend in indie horror where rather than focusing on the supernatural threat, it’s more about unraveling the mystery of the characters and what happened to them, as well as world building. To me that’s more interesting than “scary monster chases you”.

[psychic-refugee]

My original theory for S2 and the Stalker has completely been obliterated, and honestly from all the new big names attached to it, and the smaller names, it’s a lot to fit in only 8 episodes.

The cast is very crowded for an 8-episode season. With limited time and “space” in the story, I feel like with Wednesday the only common thread and obviously will be in every episode, and Ortega herself saying each episode will feel like its own movie, I feel like most of the actors will actually only get one episode.

There’s also some indication that some of the students have already wrapped up their filming (specifically Joy Sunday via IG posts who is a top billed star), which is very short to me if true and insinuates to me that only one or two episode will be at the school. Which also supports the other rumours that the Addams estate will be heavily featured.

I would like it if some of the students got a significant B plot to explore their characters more throughout the season, but I don’t have confidence in the writers to explore anyone but Wednesday. So far, every other character is just a prop for her.

My new theory is that the season will start at the Addams estate. Maybe a funeral to intro many new Addamses. Then each subsequent episode will have her deal with different Addamses and the family lore.

She’s also supposed to be on a break, so starting at the Addams estate makes sense to me.

In no particular order, but what I think will be included in episodes:

1: We see Wednesday’s home life and more interaction and possible backstory to her friction with Morticia. This will include Morticia, Gomez, Pugsly, and Grandmama. I don’t think Pubert exists in this universe.

2: Uncle Fester centered episode which will also serve as a backdoor pilot to his spinoff.

3-6: She visits with various Addamses, really expanding the Wednesday universe, each with their own issues she has to figure out. So, each episode is more or less a procedural, horror mystery/ “Outcast of the week” This will include Noah Taylor, Billie Piper, Christopher Lloyd, Francis O’Connor, Haley Joel Osmet, Heather Matarazzo, Joonas Suotamo.

Besides just having something to do over break, perhaps Wednesday visits family to test the stalker’s reach, who is still sending her proof of being stalked. When back at Nevermore, she finally figures out who the stalker is because she has eliminated who it couldn’t be based on how they’re able to stalk her from family member to family member and then back to Nevermore.

7-8: Break is over and they’re back at Nevermore. Enid will heavily be featured to talk about her status as a transformed wolf within her pack. Maybe talk about some issues with Ajax because he’s not a werewolf and now she has more options within the Werewolf community. We’ll also see what happened to Tyler and Sheriff Galpin. And it’ll introduce the new faculty at Nevermore.

Maybe Tyler confronts his dad about what he knew about his wife being a Hyde, if anything, and what it means to have a half-outcast child. Galpin will talk his son into accepting his responsibility in what happened, and Tyler voluntarily turns himself in and Thandiwe Newton is his new therapist, perhaps at the same insane asylum his mother.

Wednesday visits him before he’s on a long absence to get his powers and mental health in order. They make peace.

New students Evie Templeton and Owen Painter will feature. I wonder if Owen will be Enid’s triangle love interest, as he has dark, pale features like Ajax. Perhaps she has a type. lol

Xavier, Divina, Kent, and Yoko’s absence will be explained that their families feel that Nevermore has gone downhill and they are pulled from the school to attend an alternative Outcast school.

Steve Buscemi as the new Headmaster will do something to spring into the 3rd season and we’re left with a question about something. lol

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

The Blessing To Your Curse - Part 3 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Hoo boy this one is a doozy, I hope you're ready because shits about to go downhill uphill and all around lmaoo. I'll try to be more consistent with this series, I'm trying to split my time evenly between this, the royal au, and just doing oneshots but it's gonna be hard with uni starting up again in a few days

Part 2 here

Warnings: blood, gore, descriptions of death, descriptions of self harm

Word Count: 3.9k

“YUJI!”

“NANAMI!”

“ANYONE?!”

You knew it was dangerous to intentionally draw attention to yourself, but you called out for aid nonetheless. You’d reluctantly split off from the group to distract a first grade, being left alone with it before you could blink, and now you’re curled up against a wall while pressing a hand below your ribcage and desperately reaching into the well of your energy to patch the wound. It hadn’t gone horribly wrong, but you couldn’t deny that it hurt like a bitch and you were already tired.

Perhaps there was some remnant of the physical weakness you possessed in your past life after all, some chronic illness that chased you beyond death and rebirth.

“Motherfucker,” You growl, ripping at the side of your shirt to expose more of the wound to your eyes, feeling the skin stitch together as you hiss profanities through your teeth. After purging it of the last of the cursed blood you had been coated with during the fight, it seals up and you slump back, the patch of skin tingling with remnant energy.

Gotta get moving, find Yuji again. You push yourself to your feet, repeating these words as your nails scrape the wall and your hand drags past neon screens and through trails of the gross purple blood. You’re trying not to put weight on your ankle, which twisted in an awkward fall while fighting the first grade, but deciding you can’t afford to lose more time you push on until you reach a set of stairs.

Residuals of cursed energy leak up through the air in your direction, one trace you recognise to be Yuji’s, and a second trace, this one stronger, more potent and reeking of blood. You scrunch your nose at the tangy smell, forcing your feet to take you down the stairs where you find yourself amongst the remnants of a fight. “Yuji?” You call out, coughing slightly as a hint of smoke pierces the air.

You make it further down the hallway when you hear voices, and suddenly a wave of malice washes over you, forcing you to your knees. “I’ll give you one second,” You hear his voice around the next corner and crawl to press your back against the wall, making yourself as small as possible, “Move,” Heavy breathing near you catches your attention and you finally notice the two girls in an alcove across from you.

You press your hand to your mouth as they stare at an unknown figure that you’re now almost certain is Sukuna, the special grade curse that moves to stand at their side equally terrified but trying not to let it show. They’re like statues, and Sukuna’s footsteps ring out in the still air like shots from a pellet gun. Your eyes travel to the figure walking towards them and away from you, its Sukuna alright, his face stoic and empty of emotion as he approaches the group of three.

“You hold your heads quite high,” He rumbles, brushing the pink hair up from his forehead, and you watch as he takes a chunk off the top of the special grade’s head with a single thought, missing the two girls because they duck far enough to the ground. Smart girls, you think to yourself in passing, perhaps I should step in and save them.

He may be amicable now, but you know he can turn on a dime at any second. “Did you believe taking one knee would be enough? The boughs that bear most hang lowest, yes? But I guess you guys are pretty lightweight,” He looks to the girls, “You kids first, you wanted…” He trails off, his head angling slightly towards you and you see his nose twitch before he turns and you meet his ruby red gaze, “What have we here?”

Your heart is thumping practically through your chest as you drop your hand from your mouth, taking low deep breaths to try and calm yourself, “My lord,” You murmur, his power overwhelming you into submission. He’s in front of you in an instant, but you can see his unwillingness to bend down and assist you in front of an audience.

You hear a protestation in your mind at your term of address and you relax your shoulders, pressing yourself against the wall awkwardly to pull yourself to your feet, “Sukuna,” You murmur, low enough so as you cast your gaze over his shoulder at the special grade you know they cannot hear you, “Forgive me, I tried to find Yuji before anything could happen,”

He shakes his head, “No matter, I have business with these three anyway,” He looks over his shoulder, following your gaze, but you place a hand out of sight over where Yuji’s heart lies. “Spare the girls,” You whisper, looking away, “For my sake. Let me fulfil their demands,” He lets out a bark of a laugh, catching you off guard a little, “Will that leave you strong enough for what I need?”

You look back into his eyes, see the flash of concern passing through his gaze and his hand hovers over yours for a moment, the twinge in your ankle disappearing in an instant. “I will be,” You steel yourself, dropping your hand back to your side, “For you,”

After a moment of gazing into your eyes he turns and walks back to the girls, “What did you want to ask? I’ll grant you a finger’s worth of time,” He inspects his nails and then brushes them on the front of the supremely fucked up jacket that almost barely covers his torso at this point, allowing you a glimpse of the tattoos on his back, “Now talk,”

One of the girls, the mousy brunette, glances up at you for just a second, letting you see the tear tracks running down her cheeks as she speaks, “Below us, there’s a man in monks robes, with stitches across his forehead,” She mumbles. You flinch and look away, you know exactly who she speaks of, and it’s the man who’s been haunting your prophetic dreams since you were a child.

You knew through your time at Jujutsu High that Suguru Geto would turn his back, and after his death you thought it was over, but things are never that simple. “Please, kill him,” Sukuna glances back at you and you can feel his essence behind your eyelids as his manifestation enters your mind, “Is the roleplaying monk the one you dream of?” You nod, digging your fingernails into your palm as the other hand clutches at your chest.

You feel rather than see him roll his eyes as he breaks eye contact, “What an asshole,” He grunts, turning back to the girls. “And also, please free Geto,” The other girl whimpers, making your eyes water. You can still sense Geto beyond death, he may not be strong enough to free himself, and you know someone like Sukuna or Gojo or Yuta could, but Gojo is nothing but a liability when it comes to his former best friend.

“We know the location of one other finger-“ “Quit whining,” Sukuna snaps, and both girls are silent as mice, “Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?” He pouts slightly, “How insulting, you’re lucky my queen is present, or I’d have your heads where you kneel,”

He regards them with a look you can only describe as voracious and then nudges the dark haired girl’s forehead with the toe of his shoe. She keeps her eyes firmly shut as her head is forced into a more upright position, her face turned up towards his, “You see her standing there?” He asks quietly.

The girl opens her eyes and locks them onto yours though you’re quite sure she cannot see you through the veil of her tears. “She’s the only reason the two of you are still alive, if I were you I’d be thankful and go to her before I change my mind,” His tone is mocking, he’s enjoying this, and some small part of you is too.

But you barely have a chance to protest before they’re stumbling to their feet, heads still bowed, and they’re by your side in an instant, tucking themselves behind you so you stand between them and your ferocious lover. “If you wish for them to live that badly then get them out of here, it’s about to get… a little hot,” His voice rings through your mind and you turn obediently, looking between the girls for a moment.

They appear to be equally as afraid of you as they are of Sukuna, and you have a fleeting memory pass through your mind of seeing them with Geto before the Night parade of a Hundred Demons. “Come on,” You say flatly, “It’s not going to be safe here much longer,” Not that you can claim it ever was safe for anyone but you, putting you between Sukuna’s technique and them doesn’t change a thing because his technique can’t hurt you, but you’re not going to tell them that and shatter their hope.

“Geto will die,” You murmur as you nudge them in front of you, “I have seen it,” Again, you’re not going to tell them how much time there is until the day comes, but you want to at least reassure them that something will happen. “How do you know?” The mousy brunette looks back at you and you stop walking, having made it far enough down the hallway that you would no longer see Sukuna if you were to look over your shoulder.

You meet her gaze, blinking slowly, “And why would I reveal that? What have you done besides demand from my king?” She flinches as if remembering who you are to him, “What are your names?” “Nanako,” The one who spoke murmurs. “Mimiko,” The other adds quickly, “We’re sorry, please, we thought maybe if we helped him then he would help us, he’s so strong that surely killing Geto would be nothing for him,”

You let Mimiko finish her little spiel before pushing between them and continuing to walk, remaining quiet. They don’t follow for a moment before deciding you’re the lesser of two evils and then catching up to you. “You never make requests of Sukuna,” You murmur, “Not if the fate of the world depends on it,” “What is it that you know?” Nanako murmurs.

You spin to face them, making yourself dizzy for a moment before you fix your glare on her wide brown eyes, “The last person to make a request of him and live to tell the tale beyond his grasp was the only person he ever loved, over a thousand years ago, and through no fault of his own he failed to fulfil her request,” You snap. Sometimes, now that you remember, you’re forced to relive your own death through your dreams.

The spray of razor sharp barbs hitting your back from the insect-like curses chasing you, dragging through your skin and shredding your insides like serrated knives. Your heart weakening with every beat, legs still running despite the fact there was a steady ooze of blood from around each point that cruelly stuck out from the front of your robes.

You remember you tripped on the path as his house came into view, falling to your knees, you nudged one of the barbs, it’s pointed edge taunting you with the rosy shine of your own blood. You remember the sound of your own screams drawing him from his house, only for you to bleed out in his arms, his face twisted and streaked with tears.

Tears that bound your soul to his in a futile effort to keep you alive, only succeeding in delaying the inevitable for but a few moments, allowing a proper vow to fall from his lips. You still feel the chains he put there, still feel his soul on the other side.

The girls eyes are fearful and you wish you could be sure if they know exactly what you’re trying to imply, but you won’t dwell on it any longer. “I’m going to get you to our healer, and you’re going to stay there without complaint, or I’m going to kill you myself, you understand?” They nod, eyes filled with fear as you grow deadly, feeling Sukuna’s gleeful bloodlust flood your senses.

Seething with quiet rage you escort them back to Shoko who, despite looking at you like you’ve grown a second head, lets you attempt to return to the fight. Although you aren’t entirely sure where anyone is anymore, you’ve somehow managed to get caught up in Sukuna’s domain, the slashes glancing harmlessly off your skin as you search for the epicentre.

“SUKUNA!” You shout, pressing forwards through the spray. It’s almost like rain, and you shake your head to clear your thoughts, trying your hardest to see anything. Finally in the darkness, you catch a glimpse of the shrine that lies at the centre of Sukuna’s domain, the jaws wide open and ominous as always.

This happens as the domain subsides, and you see his pink hair across from you at the edge of the destruction. “SUKUNA!” He looks towards you as you stumble in his direction, pulling yourself out of the hole as your chest heaves. “I thought I told you to get out of here,” He growls, hauling you to your feet by your upper arm.

You cough as you inhale some concrete dust, “If we want to do this body thing, now is the best time we have,” You croak, “Nobody else is around,” Sukuna smirks and looks past you for a moment, “Just wait a moment will you,”

You fall silent as he steps around you towards the hole, “Make sure to savour this for me brat,” Sukuna’s energy softly fades and you whip your head around, “Sukuna!” You growl, “You moron!” The tattoos fade and you see his hands start to shake.

Yuji grabs his face and you’re afraid to touch him, but he falls to his knees and you’re quickly by his side, “LET ME DIE!” He screams, dragging his fingertips along the rough concrete and shaving chunks of viscera off, “ONLY ME!” You make a mental note to chew Sukuna out later, this isn’t how you wanted to proceed.

 “Yuji listen to me, you made me a promise,” You grunt, pulling him back off the ground into your arms with yours hooked under his shoulders to prevent him from hurting himself anymore. “He can have my body,” Yuji sobs, burying his face against your arm, “I don’t deserve to live!” He wails.

“Don’t pull that shit with me,” You growl, grabbing his chin and making him look up at you. You know your eyes must be a reflection of Sukuna’s, you can see how terrified he is, “You promised me that you would assist me, and I promised you I would protect you,”

“Innocent people died!” He pulls away from you, “And it’s all my fault, I’m not strong enough, I just…” He trails off, breathing heavily, “I can’t understand how or why you love him, I just can’t,” Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, leaving trails through the dust and dirt, “Yuji, I…”

You know what you want to say, you want to remind him that you’re technically a thousand years old, you knew him before he was like… this… and you’re sure you can return him at least to a more docile state, but he’s like a caged wolf right now. Fulfilling an oath that has no purpose anymore other than to feed his bloodlust.

Instead, you take his hands in your own disregarding the state of his fingers to just hold him. “I will readily accept that this is partially my fault, I probably could have stopped him in the subway and I didn’t, but right now I need you to let me do this. The sooner he is out of your body the sooner your body is your own again,” You plead softly.

His shoulders droop and he nods, “Yeah, yeah, go on then,” He murmurs. You steel yourself, you hadn’t had the chance to practice this step because you couldn’t risk accidentally cloning Sukuna, so you had one shot to get it right.

You shift so you’re on your knees, still holding his hands, and using the blood from his fingers you paint a small chevron symbol on his forehead. It begins to glow as you reach deep into your soul, the well of energy within you stirring.

His eyes are full of tears as he looks at you, and you have to blink away your own again as the two of you begin to glow. There aren’t words in any language that can properly describe what exactly it is that you do, you suppose if your modern day clan had survived then you’d know what it was you were doing, but you could only follow your instincts and hope that everything went smoothly.

A trail of strange white energy, formless and malleable, pulls from the wounded tips of Yuji’s fingers, trailing out like blossoms in the wind and eventually forming something resembling a human beside you. You reach one hand towards it, maintaining your connection to Yuji and pressing your other to the pale form that is gradually taking on colour.

It occurs to you as Sukuna’s form begins to take shape before you that you have no clothes for him, you really hadn’t thought as far ahead as you should have, and Yuji averts his eyes, emptying the contents of his stomach away from the strange new body.

It takes a few more minutes and some small adjustments but soon the body is finished, and it looks just as you remember from before your death. “How the hell do we get him into the body now?” Yuji asks?” “Like this,” You turn to him, pressing your hand to the side of his face as his eyes widen.

Tattoos form on his skin and his eyes waver between brown and red momentarily, before Sukuna responds to your power and pushes forward. “You called?” He tilts his head with a smirk, grabbing your chin and inspecting the tear tracks on your face, “Did the brat make you cry?”

You shake your head, “No he didn’t, now will you hurry up and do whatever it is you have to do to switch bodies?” You murmur, exhaustion gripping at your limbs. He looks down, nodding with approval as he lets you go, “Your craft is immaculate as always,” He murmurs, trailing his fingers over the unblemished skin.

You rub your jaw, clicking your neck momentarily as you look around, spotting a somewhat intact clothing store a few doors down from you, “I’ll be right back,” You haul yourself to your feet, stumbling towards the shattered glass and into the shop. It takes a few minutes but eventually you find all the essentials to just cover him up, underwear, sweatpants, and a simple t-shirt that has a generic band logo you don’t recognise on the back.

Making sure it’s all in a larger size you lurch back out onto the street, noticing the new body sitting up and flexing his fingers, his body adorned with tattoos and his face changed, returned to the half-twisted state. Yuji is trembling on his side a couple metres away, his back facing the two of you as you return to them.

It only takes you a moment to realise what happened, Sukuna made the new body eat one of Yuji’s fingers, and you frown at him sternly, “Heal him,” You grunt, hitting his shoulder with the back of your hand. He snatches the clothes off you without responding, you fall back onto your butt and shuffle over to Yuji, “Oh Yuji,” You murmur.

“You heal him if you care so much, he’s just a brat,” Sukuna growls and you whip your head back to look at him, fury giving you a shot of adrenaline, “I just used up almost all of my energy reserves to create a new body for you from nothing, you fucking owe me, I don’t care how much you hate him,”

His face remains stoic and you stand, poking his chest viciously, “I brought you into this world, I can fucking take you out of it, I don’t care, you better not make me think I just wasted everything I had for nothing,” He rolls his eyes, pushing past you and bending down, his hand on Yuji’s side frightens the boy for a moment but he relaxes as Sukuna’s reverse cursed technique flows through him, growing back the finger he stole and healing his other fingertips.

“Are you happy now?” He growls, standing up and looking down on you. You spit off to the side, saliva mixed with blood, “I won’t be happy until you stop treating me like a fucking worm, I gave you your own body and now you think you can treat me like this? Is this how you show appreciation to someone who you’ve apparently lied to every time you’ve told them you loved them?”

His demeanour is softened the moment you accuse him of lying and you feel a momentary sting of regret, but you just spent all of your energy giving his own body. It’ll take you weeks to recover from this. If he isn’t willing to fight in your place, then what was it all for?

You want to cry again, you want to burst into tears and fall to your knees, you want to stay by Yuji’s side and just give up hope. This isn’t the man you knew, you should’ve been more careful, shouldn’t have so readily trusted him when he showed you his memories. He’s changed too much, and you’re afraid you’ll never get him back.

You do eventually tire of Sukuna’s solemn silence, slumping down on the rubble next to Yuji and apologizing softly, repeatedly. You know that no amount of words will ever make up for what he’s gone through, but as long as you stay with him he might have a chance of getting through this.

“Y/n,” Sukuna rumbles. You look back to him, he’s sat casually just beside you, “You’re the only thing I want in this world, without you I am nothing but a curse seeking endless vengeance,” You feel Yuji roll over and press his face against the side of your thigh, “You give me a purpose, and if you don’t trust me that’s ok, just…”

He reaches for you and you let him take your hand, looking up into his eyes, “You made me human again,” He murmurs, “I… I remember what it’s like to love, and I will stay by your side until you believe me and you love me too,” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, choosing to remain silent but nodding slightly.

His eyes close and your free hand rests on Yuji’s back. It will take time, and this fight is far from over, but you’re sure that things will begin to heal. Even if you end up on the run from Jujutsu society for the rest of your life, at least you have him back. At least you can go about trying to save some of your friends.

I think this takes the prize for my favourite chapter so far, maybe it's just the whole 'writers are their own worst enemies' thing (is that how that goes? idk) and because it's the most recent one lol

also i hope yall dont mind me saving characters who died in shibuya, but i mean it's my fic and i get to choose who lives >:)

Part 4 coming soon