#coming out of the woodworks just to drop this and leave again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blessedbucky · 3 months

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we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 3)

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: ........14k? oops?

summary: a glimpse at your first year in tokyo jujutsu high

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, bisexual!reader, bisexual!suguru, ableism, internalized ableism, mentioned child abuse, light bullying, satoru has some identity issues, actually EVERYONE has identity issues here, jealous and protective boys, JJK typical violence

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again

author note: um.....so....this was meant to be all three of the high school years in one chapter........but i lost control of the plot. and here we are...FOURTEEN THOUSAND WORDS LATER...and THIS WAS ONLY THE FIRST YEAR of them in high school? help me.

translation note: jiheishō is the japanese term for autism

chapter links: ONE, TWO, AO3

[YEAR ONE.]

Graduation comes.

Finally.

In the months since you and Suguru were offered scholarships with Jujutsu High, word slowly spread around the school. Suguru and you have to sit on the roof for lunches to escape your growing popularity. You have no idea why these people have started to crawl out of the woodworks, but Suguru said he kind of expected it. It’s not only you two that want out of the village and you two are going to live the life that everyone else dreams of. They think they can worm their way into your lives now and leech off any future success or have an in inside Tokyo.

Still, you can’t believe how many addresses and phone numbers you’re given. There are a few that you keep, people from the art club that you joined who have always been cordial enough to you. You felt a little obligated because they pitched in to buy you a relatively nice art supply kit to continue your craft in Tokyo. The rest of the contact information is tossed in the trash, some right in front of their faces out of spite.

Meanwhile, Suguru is almost suspended.

No one can prove that Nakayama Izuru was attacked by Suguru, though. It’s not possible for a human to leave the claw marks on Nakayama’s arms. You can only imagine that saccharine smile that Suguru was wearing when he told the school staff that he saw a tanuki attack Nakayama. The only crime he committed was not getting help sooner and, for that, he apologized. Nakayama himself even admitted that he didn’t see anything or that Suguru didn’t put hands on him, but he knows Suguru was responsible somehow.

You, obviously, know better.

“Idiot,” you hiss when you and Suguru are at your usual afterschool hangout spot by the river. “That wasn’t very heroic of you. It could’ve costed you your scholarship if word got back to Tokyo.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t even that bad. A cat could’ve done more damage than I did.”

You sigh. “I know we’ve always teased people with your collection, but we’ve never drawn blood. You don’t like him, never have, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” You throw a rock, trying to get it to skip across the water, but it just gives a sad plop and sinks. “What happened?”

“Remember when you and Endo got in that fight a few months ago?” You nod slowly. “It was something like that.” He’s not looking at you, but his rage still lingers. He’s usually good at skipping rocks, but not today. “Which means you can’t judge me because if you knew how to fight, you definitely would’ve. Don’t even try to pretend you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, but I suck at keeping my mouth shut and can’t control my emotions for shit. I know I’m gonna struggle when we start high school because of that.” This isn’t a scolding. You’re just really worried because, “You’re good at letting that stuff roll off you.”

Suguru’s frown deepens. “Not about you.” If it wasn’t so quiet here, you’d have missed him whisper, “Never about you.”

“People have made fun of me before.”

“It’s different.” He presses a thumb against his forehead. “Can we drop this?”

“Well, I kinda want to know what he said. I told you what Endo said, didn’t I?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Suguru,” you sing. “I’ll keep asking. Don’t I have a right to know?”

“I was trying to be polite.” His eye is twitching irritably. “He said that he never noticed until now how nice your tits are. The nicest in our class.” You burst out in a fit of laughter. A vein throbs at his temple. Maybe this is why he didn’t want to say anything. “It’s not funny, Squid. It was disgusting. He tried to act buddy-buddy with me while I was waiting for you to get done with art club. He wanted to know if you were still a virgin or not.”

You shake your head, wiping a stray tear from your eye. “Nakayama thinks because his father owns the biggest farm that he’s worth something. Not even Endo would date him and she’s the most popular girl in school.” You crouch down to rummage for some skipping stones. “Hey, if we’re still virgins by the end of high school, want to take each other’s virginities?”

It’s like all the fight rushes out of him, the way Suguru sighs and how his shoulders slump in defeat. “You shouldn’t say things like that.” His neck, the tips of his ears, his entire face…it’s all so red. It’s rare to find, but there are some things that go too far. You open your mouth to apologize, but he interrupts. “You promise?”

“I promise.” You give one of the stones you find a few tosses, making sure it’s light enough. “I kind of always thought it would be you, anyway. Now that we’re leaving the village, you’ll get super popular at this new school, so I doubt you’ll be single by the time we graduate, but this is on the off chance that you are.” He tilts his head back, staring up at the skies. That’s his existential crisis face. “I’m sorry. Was that too far?”

“I always thought it would be you, too,” he admits quietly. “I guess…you’re making it sound so transactional.”

Right. Girls say that the first time is supposed to be special. “I can try to make it special for you, if it happens. I don’t really understand what special means, but I’ll try.”

Suguru shakes himself out of his thoughts. “I’ll make it special, don’t worry.”

“Don’t think about it too much. You’ll definitely get a boyfriend or girlfriend.”

“It could be the other way around, y’know.”

You scoff. “Where we’re going…seeing the spirits is normal. So, everyone there will be normal. That’s when my weirdness is really going to shine. You’re used to it. Do you think someone is willingly going to deal with my stupid habits and quirks? How do I even explain to another person that even seeing cotton balls makes my teeth hurt?” You shake your head. “I’m already high enough maintenance for you and you’re my best friend. It’d be worse for a boyfriend or girlfriend, wouldn’t it?”

Suguru says your name. You look over at him and he’s sad. “You’re not high maintenance.”

“You’re my best friend. You’re obligated to say that.”

“No, I’m not. You know I’m honest with you. Would you like an example of my honesty? Here’s one—you’re so blind that, sometimes, it amazes me.”

You throw a rock at the vicinity of his feet. He moves to dodge it. “Rude.”

***

Non-sorcerer students are required to move on campus two weeks before school starts. There will be some informal classes on the most basic of jujutsu basics to give you somewhat a foundation. In yours and Suguru’s cases, Yaga lies to both your parents and has someone come pick you and your things up three weeks before school starts.

At the nearest relatively big city, Yaga makes the driver stop. He practically shoves food down your throats, lecturing the entire time about the importance of eating to make up for the massive amounts of energy that you’ll be burning by using cursed energy and fighting spirits.

Then, he forces you both to choose cell phones.

You and Suguru, obviously from very humble means, protest. None of them are cheap. Yaga shuts you down and declares this as yet another requirement. Essentially, you’ll always be on-call, especially as you become a more seasoned sorcerer. You need a way to communicate with others and be communicated with in return. Yaga mutters something under his breath before he heads outside to take a smoke break with the driver.

“He’ll probably yell at us if we go for the cheapest thing,” Suguru mutters as he looks around the store.

“Something in the middle, then,” you agree.

In your defense, you do get something that’s not the most expensive. There wasn’t any mention about the design or color. It called to you, okay? You could take or leave the color, but the almost metallic shine of it. It’s so sleek and smooth. The number keys are nearly flat and it’s satisfying to run your fingers over the slight bump of them.

Yaga doesn’t even bat an eye when you hand over the hot pink flip phone. He simply takes what you’ve chosen, takes Suguru’s chunky option, and goes to the counter to pay for them and set up your new numbers. You and Suguru stand there, almost with bated breath.

It’s hard to believe that the school is investing so much money into you both already. Yaga didn’t even mention this coming out of your monthly stipend. A stipend, by the way, that you and Suguru weren’t aware of until you were on the road. You’d asked if you needed to tell your parents because that seemed like a pretty important thing for Yaga to forget. Yaga had shrugged and, casual as anything, said, “it’s your money now. Tell whoever you want about it.”

And, as easy as it was then for him, it is now because Yaga hands you your phones back, numbers on some paperwork, and that’s it. He walks out of the store and gets in the car. You and Suguru share a look of disbelief before you scramble to follow after him and climb in the back of the car.

It’s still a drive to a train station that will take you the rest of the way to Tokyo. The driver turns the music up. You and Suguru immediately duck your heads down, heads knocking together, voices hushed as you marvel over your new phones. You can’t stop rubbing your thumb over the smooth surface. Suguru isn’t the type to get distracted by something like texture, so he’s already clicking through it to add your phone number.

“Add me,” he demands. “What? Were you blinded by that gaudy color?”

“Like you have room to talk,” you shoot right back at him. “That’s got a MP3 built into it.”

“Are you the only one here that can be an enjoyer of the arts?”

“You could’ve kept using the radio.” You’re already a little sad. It’s a favorite pastime—you and Suguru, sprawled out on the floor, listening to the radio. Maybe you can save up for one. “Whatever. You better share the headphones whenever you figure out how to put music on that thing.”

“You better use your phone as a SOS if we’re ever lost.”

The only response to that is your harrumph and grabbing your backpack off the floor. Suguru goes back to his phone as you pull out your pencil and sketchbook. It’s a bumpy road. You already have a sketch of Hong, but maybe you’ll just do another rough one to fill the time. You flip through the pages upon pages of new and old cursed spirits that Suguru now holds, trying to find an open spot. There’s not much room left. Mother hates to buy you sketchbooks, seeing it as indulging your abnormality.

“You’re a talented artist,” Yaga commends. You pull the sketchbook against your chest instinctively. Yaga doesn’t acknowledge the action. Just asks, “Are those the cursed spirits that you’ve seen?” You lower the sketchbook back down in your lap, nodding shyly. “May I?”

You usually hide your sketchbook away from the eyes of others because classmates and adults were easily disturbed by what they thought were figments of your imagination. It’s going to take time to get over this surrealism that comes from everyone seeing the things you can and treating it as if it’s normal. So, you hesitantly hold out your sketchbook for him to take. You’re nervous as you watch him flip through the pages.

“These notes…you study them?” Yaga correctly assumes.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Um…they can’t see me unless I want them to,” you explain slowly. “I can make them calm, too.”

“How have you been destroying them?”

“We don’t,” Suguru answers on your behalf. “I eat them.”

Yaga’s eyes widen. “You…eat them?”

“Maybe a better way to say it is that I absorb them,” Suguru corrects. “After that, I can summon them whenever I want.”

Yaga tries to hide it, but he seems…shaken. He glances back down at your sketchbook, quickly thumbing through the pages. “Is this all that you’ve taken down together? Is this how many you’ve swallowed, Geto?”

Suguru takes the sketchbook back from Yaga. Suguru is a lot more familiar with your sketches, but he skims through the pages once again. “I think this is about right,” he finally answers Yaga. “There might be more in my arsenal. Sometimes, we find spirits on our own or she doesn’t want to sketch whatever we find.”

“Right.” Yaga is nodding to himself. “We’ll explore your individual techniques more when the term starts.”

***

You’re allowed a few days to unpack and acquaint yourselves with campus before you’re taken to be fitted for your new school uniforms.

“Whatever I want?”

The tailor nods. “It’s important that you be comfortable and be in clothes that are easy for you to move in. It goes without saying that you’re a representation of the school, so you can’t be indecent, but that is your only condition,” she explains. “I’ll check-in with you after your first assignment to make sure your uniform doesn’t need any further adjustments. Also, the uniform expenses aren’t deducted from your stipend. This is on the school’s budget.”

The second that the tailor shows you the standard uniform, you turn your nose up at it. You rub the fabric between your fingers, examining it critically. The fabric, you think you could deal with, but if you can throw out the blazer then you’ll immediately jump on that chance. You’ve always preferred baggy clothes, so you shop a size or two too large. Your mother never complained because that meant your clothes lasted longer. So, you think about your wardrobe. Think about what your go-to clothes are when you’re not in a stiff school uniform.

After giving it some thought while your measurements are taken, you decide on a skirt, thin tights, and a hooded sweatshirt.

It’s an outfit that you can justify. The skirt will allow for freer movement. Tights, if they’re thin enough fabric, don’t really bother you because they’re like a second skin. The sweatshirt won’t have the same restrictive sleeves that the blazer does. Lastly, if you’re overwhelmed after assignments then you can hide under your hood.

The tailor accepts the design and tells you that she’ll call when the uniform is ready.

You’re thankful that Suguru is so tall because you’d have panicked otherwise if you stepped outside the tailor shop and couldn’t see him in front of a shop across the street. Your brows raise when you see that it’s a small tattoo shop. Outside the door, there’s a binder on a stand that must have their services and examples from their portfolio. Suguru isn’t looking at the tattoos. No, he seems to be carefully considering the section with ear piercings.

And, honestly, you’re not surprised.

“That school trip to Osorezan really left an impression on you, huh?”

It’d been the first year of middle school that your class went on a trip to Osorezan, believed to be the entrance to the afterlife. It was a religious, historical, and scientific field trip all wrapped into one since the Bodaiji temple is inside the caldera of an active volcano. The high amounts of sulfur gave the waters varying shades of blue. The land was gray and barren. But there was also a hot spring. Statues were littered around the area to represent the souls of the dead.

Just going off the limited knowledge that Yaga gave you, it makes sense that there were so many cursed spirits there. It’s a place of reverence, sure, but people probably go there out of desperation, too. On some level, it might be feared—whether because of the lore or the volcano near it.

It was an overnight trip. You and Suguru hadn’t slept a fucking wink. It was amazing. You’d adored it because of the nature and science. Suguru fell in love with the history and spirituality.

“Shut up.” The tips of his ears are red. “The tailor said there’s no dress code. Yaga said the only rule is to not bring too much attention to the school.” He rubs at his ear lobe. “It looks really cool, doesn’t it?”

“I think you’re being a stereotypical smalltown kid that’s going wild in the big city,” you deadpan.

“Well, I’m doing it. If it bothers you so much then stay out here,” he says primly.

You’ve started to flip through the pages of piercings. “No, no.” There’s one thing that caught your eye. You touch the picture of a tongue piercing. “Just think it’s a little funny that as soon as your feet stepped down in Tokyo, you went running.” Do your eyes glaze over when you think about running the little metal ball of a piercing across your teeth? Maybe. “I want this one.”

“Eh? I’m just getting gauges. You’re getting way wilder than me. You understand that, right?” Suguru is grinning as he grabs your wrist. “Let’s go.”

***

A week later, your tongue has healed enough that you finally learn to talk around it. Just as you suspected, the urge to roll it between your teeth is hard to pin down while you let it fully heal. It’ll be another three to five weeks. Yaga never said a word about it when you both showed up to a classroom the next day. All he did was throw some textbooks at you both and got to lecturing.

You guess you need to start thinking of him as sensei.

Suguru talks about you being a huge nerd, but he’s the one that’s in the school library, trying to dive deeper into…everything that you’ve learned, basically. Despite the fact that you’ll be spending the next three years gaining more knowledge about the jujutsu world. He’s always been like that—impatient when he’s eager. Well…maybe he picked that up from you.

Anyway, you left him behind to enjoy the weather and view. If you’re not with Suguru, you’re enjoying the view. The campus is nestled on a mountain outside Tokyo. It’s got the kind of scenery that inspires a person. This is the first time, probably ever, that you draw things that are not cursed spirits. That’s what you’re doing now. You have an urge to draw the contrast of the bright red torii gate against the lush, green foliage.

You almost lose your art supplies to gravity when someone rushes in front of you. Not that you’d say anything, but you can send them a shitty look. You’re a little more forgiving when you see their vision is blocked by a big box. Another person follows with another equally big box follows after that person. You blink and look in the direction of where they’re coming from.

A group has made their way to the top of the staircase that leads up to the school.

They are…very bright.

Almost everyone in the small group has blinding white hair and blue eyes. Not only that, but they are also dressed in traditional clothes that you know are expensive. The colors are vibrant. Just from here, you can tell just one of those kimonos probably costs more than your childhood house. Every woman in the group has a gold kanzashi in their hair with a dangling charm in the form of a…is that a dragonfly?

Off to the side of this group, though, is a boy your age. Same white hair and blue eyes, yes, but he’s dressed so casually that it’s almost obscene next to the rest of his people. Just a white shirt, pair of basketball shorts, and some sneakers. Thismust be one of your two classmates. Yaga said there would be another boy and girl enrolling. And…he must be moving on campus early. You wonder why. Clearly, those people are his family and they’re loaded. Why on earth would he want to leave home early?

The classmate stops and turns to stare at you dead-on. Don’t come over here, don’t come over here, don’t come over here, you silently plead. You weren’t prepared to deal with other people yet. It’s still a new place and new information is constantly getting thrown at you and you just don’t have the mental energy to deal with strangers.

Fate is not on your side, though, and your classmate closes the distance between you and him.

You’re wary when he’s right in front of you. If you weren’t desensitized by Suguru, this guy’s height would definitely intimidate you a lot more. You’re still nervous which could be because he’s really close to you physically. Your body tenses, instinctively preparing for unwanted touch.

“Show me around.”

“Huh?”

“Show me around,” he repeats.

Okay. You’re not sure what you expected. Normally, people give a little context when you question what they say. “I’m new, too. Our sensei is here, though. His name is Yaga.” You tilt your head slightly. “I can go grab him instead.”

“I asked you. You’re one of those shy types, right? Probably not good with talking to hot guys? I figure you won’t talk while we walk around the place.” He says all that…so casually. “I’ve had that hag back there in my ear all day. I got a headache. If you wanna keep talking, though, I’ll just go find someone else.”

“The only other person here will tell you to fuck off if you go around making demands like this,” you state bluntly. Actually, you wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up punching this guy in the nose. “Look, I come off as rude, too, but you should maybe think a little longer before you speak.” Oh, no. You sounded like Suguru just now.

The guy squints at you. “Who the hell are you? Where you from? Do you not know who I am?”

Oh. Yaga warned you and Suguru about this in a roundabout way. The jujutsu world is super traditional. There are these three clans that have been around for hundreds and hundreds of years, so they’re really respected. They’re competitive with each other and try to pump out more talented sorcerers. They tend to turn their nose up at people like you and Suguru who have no hint of sorcery in your family or ancestry.

You give him your name, the prefecture you came from, and then answer with a curt, “No, I don’t know who you are. Should I?”

He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “So…you’re a hick. That’s what your deal is?” Hmm, well, he’s technically not wrong about that. “Whatever. I’m Gojo Satoru. You can ask the Yaga guy about how important I am later. Can we go now?”

You could not follow Gojo when he walks past you, but his…family or whatever is taking up the space that you were going to use for your art. Also, you can sympathize with needing an excuse to get away from a large group of people, especially when you’re overwhelmed. Not saying that Gojo is, but he did mention a headache.

So, you and Gojo take a stroll.

It’s quiet, aside from the sounds of nature and your footfalls. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his head turn in your direction. What? Is he shocked that you respected his wish to be quiet? You don’t want to force a conversation.

After maybe half an hour of walking, you declare, “I think we’re far away enough that you don’t need me anymore.” You point at the bench in front of a pond that you purposely led yourselves to. “So, I’m going to do what I was going to do.” You give a polite half-hearted bow. “It was nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you in the future.”

Suguru texts as soon as you sit down, asking where you went off to. You’re terrible with directions, so you send him a shot of the pond and the building closest to it. You don’t mention Gojo. You’ll tell him about it later. Your fingers glide over the hard cover of the new sketchbook and the fresh, crisp, blank page that you turn to. You treat this sketchbook carefully because it’s the nicest you’ve ever seen.

Yaga said that it was very important to nurture your curiosity in understanding cursed spirits, so it was a more than worthy investment to get you sketchbooks. The more knowledge that you gain about the jujutsu world, the deeper your understanding of them goes, and that can be helpful to the jujutsu world. No one has ever had an ability like yours that he knows of, Yaga had told you privately. Knowledge of cursed spirits is only gained in the heat of battle or the aftermath of death. Your pacification abilities allow the study of cursed spirits without the bloodshed.

In that meeting, you’d tried to make Yaga see some sense. You’re some nobody from nowhere with a weird fixation on drawing the cursed spirits. He has all these big aspirations for you, but you highly doubt that you can live up to them. It wasn’t even about the sketchbook at that point. Suguru’s technique is the one that will change the world.

With you and Suguru, I think your techniques have skewed your worldviews. Suguru has shown me some of his higher-grade spirits. Exorcising those would be bloody work for anyone else. Your technique is more suited for a supportive role, yes, but don’t dismiss your power. It’s a trickle-down effect—you’ll save the lives of fellow sorcerers who will go on to exorcise spirits that saves the lives of current and future non-sorcerers.

You’d definitely cried after that conversation with Yaga. No one has ever wanted to…foster your interest like this. Setting aside how disturbed they were by the content that you drew, they saw no use in it. It was fine as a child, but in the past year or so, they had outright started to scold you for not putting the pencil down. You were the daughter of farmers and would never be famous for your art, so you needed to invest in better skills. Even your art teacher wanted to censor you and told you that any drawings needed to be school-appropriate.

More dedicated than ever, you’ve been almost obsessive with drawing.

“Oi.”

You’ve literally only drawn the rough shape of the pond. You try not to sigh or let your irritation at being interrupted show on your face when you tilt your head up. “Yes?”

“What if I did want a tour?”

It was obvious from the get-go that Gojo is a blunt person, so you don’t lie out of politeness. “I still get lost, so I’m the wrong person to ask. Like I said before, go ask Sensei.” You drop your attention to your lap and start sketching again. “Besides, I’m not good at talking to people.”

“It’s not like we have to chat. Just tell me the buildings.”

“Didn’t you say you have a headache?”

“Yeah, but I always have a headache.” That’s…alarming. You look back up at him, concerned. He shrugs and says, “Six Eyes,” as if you have any idea what that is supposed to mean. “Ugh. Right. Small town girl or whatever.” Then, he tries to dismiss it all with, “It’s a Gojo clan thing. I have special eyes that make my technique better, but the cost is migraines.”

Oh. It’s like Suguru’s technique, then. In the sense that there’s a massive blowback. Suguru has told you about the taste of curses and how disgusting doesn’t even come close to describing how awful it is. He tries to pretend that the taste is the only bad thing about it, but there’s a reason why he would wait until night to eat them where he could lay down immediately after. He’s even admitted that he would eat them to make his body forget about its hunger.

You’re sympathetic to the sensitivity. There are days when an overcast is still too bright. You bought a pair of sunglasses while you were out with Suguru, but…you can always get more. You have a whole monthly stipend now. Also, you got your uniform and you’re wearing it, so you can use the hood if the light is too much.

“Here.” You pull the sunglasses from where they’re perched on the top of your head. They’re a simple pair with thin silver frame and blue, circular lenses. Gojo looks between you and the sunglasses that you have held out. You hesitate. “What? Are they too girly or something?”

“Uh…no. I…” He looks genuinely perplexed. “You don’t know who I am. Why are you giving me these?”

“My senses are stupidly delicate, too. I know what having a bad day feels like. I don’t need these today, so you can have them. I can go buy new ones if I need them.” Oh! You remember something important and inform him, “I’ve worn them inside and Yaga doesn’t care, so you’re good on that front.”

Gojo takes the sunglasses from you but doesn’t put them on yet. “Inside?”

Oops. “Sorry. I forgot that people are weird about sunglasses inside.” You tap your pencil against the sketchbook, trying to figure out how to say what you want to. “I don’t really understand what the issue there is. Sunglasses are designed to help when it’s too bright. Inside can be as bright as outside, so I’m just using them for their intended purpose. That’s how I see it.” Oops again. You started rambling. “I’ll take them back if you don’t want them. You didn’t seem like the type to care about the opinions of others, is all.”

“No, I want them.” He yanks them away when you try to take them back. “I—”

“Hey!”

Suguru’s normally soft voice raising like that makes you yelp and jump in your seat. You whip your head around to see him storming toward you, fists and jaw clenched. You’re alarmed to see him so visibly angry. You scramble to stand up and meet him in the middle. “Suguru?”

“Aren’t you too old to be picking on people?” Suguru asks with narrowed eyes. He’s looking over your head, at Gojo. “Give those back to her.”

Oh! Now, you understand. To someone else, it would look like Gojo stole your sunglasses and is trying to keep them away to be a bully.

“Suguru, no. It’s okay—”

“Heh!” Gojo’s cocky laugh makes you angle your body so you can look between them both. He smirks smugly and makes a show of putting on your sunglasses. “Who are you? Mommy?” Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t steal them, so calm down, mama bear.” Gojo points at Suguru while asking you, “This the guy that’s gonna tell me to fuck off if I don’t find some manners?”

“I’m certainty thinking about it right now,” Suguru sneers. His anger simmers back down and he goes back to his polite yet cool indifference. He ignores Gojo’s obvious baiting and moves his attention to you. “Is that true? Did you give those to him?” You nod. Suguru frowns. “You just bought those.”

“I was trying to be nice to our new classmate.” Suguru’s brow twitches in irritation—probably over the knowledge that this is one of your two classmates. Gojo has not made a good first impression, to say the least. “It’s no big deal. I can buy some new ones when we go to the konbini.”

“Eh? I want to go!” Gojo whines.

Suguru forces a polite smile. “You should stay here. I’m sure that Sensei will have some things to go over with you.”

“I don’t know how to get back. Sketch here was showing me around.”

“Sketch?” Suguru and you repeat, in unison.

“Yeah! Sketch!” Gojo motions towards your sketchbook that you left on the bench. “Because you’re an artsy girl.”

“You should know someone longer than an hour before you go giving them nicknames,” Suguru lectures.

Gojo cocks his head to the side, genuinely confused. “Should you?”

“Yes. Otherwise, it’s just being presumptuous.”

“Ask the lady, then.” Gojo hunches over, prowling toward you with a mischievous grin, getting very close to your face with his. “You don’t mind it, do you…” He lifts his head, purposely baiting Suguru when he adds, “…Sketch?”

Now, you may not be the best at social cues or reading the room, but even you know that whatever you say is going to be the wrong thing. Do you actually care about the nickname thing? No. Also, is Suguru forgetting that he literally gave you the Squid nickname only after a week? Sure, you were both six and he forgot your name, but the point stands.

“I think I’m in the middle of a dick measuring contest,” you muse aloud. Suguru sighs in exasperation while Gojo gives a delighted laugh. “I’m going to walk away now.”

“Yes. We should go,” Suguru agrees through gritted teeth.

As you and Suguru are walking away, after you’ve gathered all your things up, Gojo loudly asks, “Aren’t you gonna introduce yourself?”

Suguru understands, on some level, that it would be beneficial to get along with your peers since there’s only going to be four of you in the whole class. That’s why you’ve indulged Gojo’s…neediness? Entitlement? Whatever it is. And Suguru won’t be as nice as you—which is ironic because he’s usually the polite one—but he does turn around and introduce himself with a curt, “I’m Geto Suguru.”

“Gojo Satoru,” Gojo shoots back cockily. “Aren’t you going to tell me how much you look forward to working with me?”

“No.” Ah. Suguru’s patience has reached its end. “We’re leaving now.”

***

It’s not until about a week later, one week before the term starts, that you actually see Gojo on campus. This isn’t to say that you’re not painfully aware of what Gojo has been up to. Because what his purpose in life seems to be right now is to dig his way under Suguru’s skin. While in separate rooms, they still share communal spaces—kitchen, showers, laundry. Suguru tries to stay in his room, but they’re bound to run into each other, and when they do…

Well, you learn that there are alarms imbued in the protective barrier around campus that blare when a cursed spirit is detected within. Spirits from Suguru’s collection are no exception. That unexpected noise had you in a panic. Suguru and Gojo had an extremely long lecture and were forced to clean the already pristine classrooms as punishment.

You’re making your rounds on the track. Sensei recommended it since you’re not nearly as in shape as Suguru. He was trusted to work in the fields back home way more than you were. The most that you were trusted to do was wash picked crops. You weren’t even allowed to pick out the bad crops because you took too long. You’re a perfectionist and kept questioning if you should let a crop slip through or not.

Gojo plops down on the stone staircase that leads down to the track and field. You feel like you should ignore him out of loyalty to Suguru, but you can’t do that here. You have to try and get along with your classmates. You leave the lectures to Sensei and hope that Suguru’s temper will cool down with time. Also…Gojo is waving a second popsicle in the air to get your attention and it’s really tempting. Too tempting.

You wordlessly take the popsicle and examine the flavor. It’s red bean. You’re instantly wary. “Did you get the same?” Gojo flashes the reddish tinted popsicle in answer. He shoves it back in his mouth before you can get a good look. Fine. You’ll just ask outright. “Does it have pieces of red beans in it?”

Gojo scowls. You think you’ve offended him for asking too many questions about his gift, but it turns out that he’s actually upset about something else entirely. “No! Ew! What am I? A heathen?” His nose scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, that’s so gross. Who like chunks in their ice cream? The whole point is for it to be creamy and smooth!”

You almost sigh in relief. “I think sprinkles are okay, but…yeah. Everything else is too much.”

“Ugh, no. Sprinkles are too chalky. They leave this…eh…it’s like a film kind of feeling on my teeth. I hate it. I have to scoop it off any desserts which pisses me off more because I love whipped cream and I’m losing it to fucking sprinkles.”

You nod sagely. “A waste of good food.”

“Thank you! You get it!” Gojo sighs dramatically. “You’re so much cooler than your boyfriend, Sketch!”

“Because I agreed with you about dessert preferences? Also, Suguru isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my best friend. We’ve lived in the same village all our lives. There was no one else like us. People that could see cursed spirits, I mean.”

Gojo is still wearing the sunglasses that you gave him. You can’t tell that he’s looking you over until he allows them to slip down the bridge of his nose. “Really? He acts like a possessive boyfriend, though.”

You rub the back of your neck. “We’re protective of each other because of…other private stuff.” You know not to put Suguru’s relationship with his parents on blast. “Oh, and he says he’s not, but I think he’s protective because of my diagnosis.”

“Diagnosis?”

“Jiheishō,” you answer casually between licks of your popsicle. “I was always weird as a baby and a toddler. Then, I talked about seeing things, and that pushed my parents over the edge. They took me to a doctor, and I got diagnosed.”

“Huh. What’s that like?”

“I don’t know. It’s who I am. How do you explain being?” You pause. “I would say that you could ask Suguru since he’s on the outside looking in, but…you’re being an annoying dick to him.”

Gojo cackles. “But he makes it so easy!”

“I’m not one to assume because it’s hard to know what people think or I don’t understand them the right way, but…have you ever tried to make friends before? If I didn’t already know that you have to go to a school, I’d ask if you’ve even been around other people your age. This isn’t how you get along with your peers.”

He scoffs. “Why do I need to get along with my peers? Why do I need friends?”

“Because it’s lonely and miserable without them?”

“Ha! You ever stop to think that it’s lonely and miserable with them?” There’s a bitter twist to his mouth. He nudges the sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose, hiding his eyes away. “I mean, you said it, didn’t you? It’s such a chore to figure out how other people work and what they’re thinking. Normies are too…normal. Clan kids are only sucking up because my clan is the most powerful. It’s stupid and complicated. Why bother?”

Oh. That’s…sad…and also way too relatable. Your expression softens. “Those aren’t friends, though. You know that, right? I guess my opinion might not count because I only have one friend, but…he’s made my life better. I like to think that I’ve made his better, too.” He sticks his tongue out in disgust. You shrug. “It’s true. He’s been the only person that listens to me when I can’t shut up about art styles or cursed spirits because I’m really interested in those. I can be me around him.”

“You’re probably not as annoying as you think you are,” he dismisses. “Now, I’m annoying. I can’t shut up about Digimon.”

“You’re probably not as annoying as you think you are,” you repeat mockingly. He flips you off and you smirk in response. “Do you want to talk about it with me? I’ll listen. It sounds like you’ve been around shitty people that don’t want to hear about things that make you happy.”

Gojo is actually…hesitant. That makes you even sadder. You know this all too well. “I yap a lot. Seriously.”

You make yourself laugh past the hurt you feel out of sympathy for him. “I’ve got my sketchbook with me. I’ll show you what real yapping is.”

It’s the right thing for you to say. Putting a competitive spin on it makes it easier for Gojo to be open, it seems. “Oh, you are so on, Sketch.” He rises to his feet with a renewed excitement. “You should come help me finish unpacking! I have a lot of Digimon stuff, so it’ll be easier to explain everyone with that!”

“Eh? Are girls allowed—”

Gojo doesn’t hear you. He snatches you by the wrist and you stumble to keep up with him. You’re halfway to the boys’ dorm before he finally listens when you tell him that he left your sketchbook behind. You watch him sprint back toward the track, still trying to figure out how the hell you ended up here.

Suguru loves to read, but not manga. There was only one television in your house that your parents always had control of, so they never let you watch anime. Obviously, you know that Digimon is a manga and anime. It’s big like Pokémon. You know there are little creatures, but that’s about the extent of it.

Gojo changes that.

It’s a little confusing, sure, but you like hearing people talk about the things they like. Maybe it’s because you’re so used yourself to the rejection of being shut down because you’re boring people by talking about the same thing or overwhelming them with talking too much or liking weird things. You don’t want other people to feel like that. It was obvious from Gojo’s demeanor that it’s something he’s experienced, too.

As you look at all the figurines and manga and plushies, you wonder if his family threw money at this thing he likes and left him alone with it all. You don’t think he would be so cynical about other people if he had support from his family. Would you be okay if you parents paid for the most expensive art supplies in the world and left you to it? You prefer to be alone, but…isn’t this special interest more special when you can share it with someone?

“Squid?”

You and Gojo are both in the middle of his room, on the floor, and currently have your faces shoved against his little plushies that are shaped like the first evolution of the original Digimon set. It’s so soft and squishy. Gojo is really proud of finding them and you can’t blame him. It’s cool that he’s not afraid to have cute things like this like a lot of guys are.

“Oh. Hey, Suguru.” You look over your shoulder at him, a little nervous. Before he can grill you about being alone with his unofficial rival, you quickly explain, “I’m getting informed about Digimon.” You spin around on your ass, shoving the plushy out. “Come feel this. It’s so soft.”

Suguru scowls. “No.”

“No is right!” Gojo loudly agrees. “He’s not allowed to the nice stuff!”

“Girls aren’t allowed in our dorm,” Suguru says more to Gojo than you.

“It’s fine until dark. I already asked Yaga.”

Suddenly, there’s a tension in Suguru’s shoulders. His jaw clenches and his eyes narrow at Gojo. “Why do you know that?”

“Shouldn’t you be happy about this news?” Gojo shoots back, a clear deflection. “You can hang out with her now.”

Suguru presses a thumb to the center of his forehead. He holds that position, trying to calm himself down. When he does, he moves his attention back to you. “He didn’t pressure you to come in here, did he?”

Before Gojo can open his mouth, you swing the plushy back to hit him. The way he sputters and Suguru’s proud smirk is a sign that you hit him right in the face. “I can make decisions on my own,” you tell Suguru which wipes that little smirk right off his face. “We’re doing a show and tell…kind of. You should bring your headphones and let us listen to your music!”

“I didn’t consent to this!” Gojo complains.

This going back and forth is a little annoying, so you angle your body to face them both. To Gojo, you say, “Okay, that’s your call. This is your stuff, after all.” To Suguru, you ask, “Um…I’ll meet you in an hour? We can listen to your music then. Does that sound good?”

Gojo groans. The excitement to share outweighs his need to annoy Suguru because he concedes with an exasperated, “Fine! He can come hang out!”

“Fine,” Suguru agrees with the same amount of annoyance.

But, hey, a win is a win.

***

The last of your class moves in a few days before the semester starts. It’s early in the morning when she does, so the noise in the hallway startles you awake, and you go stumbling out of your room without a second thought to how you’re dressed. Your door opening catches your roommate’s attention and she’s looking in your direction when you walk in her line of sight.

Both of you stare wordlessly at one another. There’s a beauty mark under the corner of her eye that catches your attention before anything else. Her brunette hair is cut short, barely past her chin, and her bangs are swept to the side. You’re watched by curious, brown eyes. At first glance, you think she’s got a cigarette in her mouth, but it doesn’t have the filter on the end. It might be one of those chalky candy sticks.

“Oh! You’re so pretty!” You blurt the words out before your sleep-addled brain can catch them. Heat crawls up the back of your neck and the tips of your ears. “Sorry!”

She laughs good-naturedly. “What? Should I be offended by a pretty girl giving me compliments?” And how…do you react to that? No one has ever called you pretty before. She unintentionally throws you a bone by moving the conversation somewhere else with her name. “I’m Ieiri Shoko. Nice to meet you.”

You give her your name, bow, and the same polite, “Nice to meet you, too. I look forward to working with you.”

“We’re living together now. You don’t need to be all formal.” It’s a force of habit. You learned quickly as a child that the world revolves around politeness and manners. “Sorry for waking you.”

“That’s okay.” You hesitate. “Do you need help?”

“Please. My parents bailed. I’m lucky they even had the time to drop me off. Not sure how they even had the time to pop me out with how busy they are at the hospital.”

You’re rolling up your sleeves as you walk over to her door. “They’re…doctors?”

“Surgeons, yeah,” she answers casually. “Makes sense that I ended up with the technique that I did, even if no sorcerer in our family has ever had it. We’ve always been big on healing, or so my parents have told me.”

“What’s your technique?”

“Reverse Cursed Technique, but I can use it on myself and others. It’s rare to extend it to other people.” Your blank expression has her chuckling. “You’re from a non-sorcerer family, huh?”

Your face is back to being hot again. “Sorry. Sensei…um…I don’t think he went over that yet.”

“I’m not sure that he will. It’s advanced. Even among the best, strongest sorcerers, it’s a rare skill. Baby sorcerers only know about it because it’s a thing to aspire to, y’know?”

Whoa. “What is it? You must be really powerful, right?”

Ieiri laughs. “No way. Reverse Cursed Technique alone is healing yourself. Like I said, I can take it further and heal others. Oh, and I have this…ability to find disturbances in the mind and body.” Then, she puts her ability in practice. “I know you got your tongue pierced.”

Your fingers fly up to touch your lips. “And you think that’s not powerful?”

“Flatterer.” Between all your back and forth with her, you’ve both gotten all the boxes inside her room. She flops down on the bare mattress. “What’s your technique?”

“Nothing as cool or useful as yours, I think.” You rock back and forth on your feet nervously. “They don’t see me unless I want them to. Also, I can pacify them. Nothing more than that. I only make them calm.”

“Guess we’ll both be saving lives.” There it is again. Someone can see more purpose in your technique than you can. Your brain just can’t compute with that. You’ll just…stand there and pacify spirits. It seems like so little to save actual lives. “Are our other classmates here yet? Have you met them?”

“Yes. One of them is my best friend, actually. His name is Geto Suguru. We came from the same village and he’s from a non-sorcerer family, too. Please be patient with both of us. And our other classmate is Gojo Satoru—” Ieiri groans loudly. You smile meekly. “I guess you know that his family is important?”

“If you have even a hint of sorcery in your family, you know about the big three clans, so, yeah, I know. My parents have never been active sorcerers, but they’re in the know of the community. No one has been able to shut up about the Gojo heir since he was born. I think my parents said it’s been…hundreds of years since someone was born with the Six Eyes?”

You nod. “Right. He said something about that. They’re special.”

“That’s an understatement.” There’s a lull in the conversation and, in the silence, you hear a familiar noise. It didn’t come from you. Ieiri laughs, no hint of shame at her stomach outing her. “I guess since I woke you up that you haven’t had breakfast. Want to grab something to eat? My parents didn’t give me time to eat.”

Your brows furrow. “They’re doctors. Shouldn’t they be more worried about your nutrition?”

Ieiri just starts laughing.

***

The school term starts.

Suguru and Gojo still aren’t getting along well. It almost seems worse because when actual schoolwork starts, they’re essentially tied on their marks. In regard to their techniques, while Gojo has more cursed energy, Suguru has more refined control. Suguru also takes to martial arts extremely well and Gojo, who you’re sure has been touched even less than you have, is almost always overcome when they spar. Gojo is faster than Suguru and is learning to use that to an advantage.

As for you and Ieiri, you hope that she likes her as much as you like her. It’s…easy to be around her. You admit that you had a lot of issues with her deadpan sense of humor, but she seemed to catch on quickly and now will usually tell you if she’s joking or being sarcastic. There are also some hiccups with food because you two share cooking duty, but she starts learning what textures you hate and which you love.

In your studies, you do okay, but you’re last in the class. If Ieiri wasn’t so lazy, she’d give the guys a run for their money. You are a lot more in shape than her despite your larger size and you lay her out flat in sparring. Yaga declared that you and she would be mostly non-combatant sorcerers due to the nature of your techniques, but he insisted that you and she learn martial arts for self-defense. Actually, you’re more in shape than Gojo even. Suguru is leagues ahead of you, obviously, because he’s so much more coordinated and stronger.

About a month in, you’re given your first assignment.

And by you what you actually mean is yourself and Gojo.

In the last few years, the number of cursed spirits has been steadily increasing. There are two separate incidents with relatively low-level curses and all the higher-grade sorcerers are occupied with higher-level curses, so you and your classmates are split up in teams of two.

Suguru was not happy about the pairings, but Yaga said that you and Suguru know how to work well together already. Then, kind of bitchily, Yaga explained that if Suguru and Gojo got along better then Yaga would’ve simply had them handle both batches themselves. Later, you try to reassure Suguru by reminding him that there’s going to be a more seasoned sorcerer with you—the newly graduated Kusakabe Atsuya. You don’t think it made him feel better.

Kusakabe will meet you there. On the way to meet him, you ask Gojo, “Should we…come up with a plan?”

“Why?”

You fiddle with the metal aglet on the ends of your hooded sweatshirt’s drawstrings. “I would feel better if we did.”

“We don’t even know the layout of this place,” he points out.

“Right,” you mumble. You’d forgotten about that, honestly. “You’re right.” You slip the aglet in your mouth and chew on it nervously.

Gojo huffs. “You stop it. I blow it up. Simple as that.”

“Can I draw it first?”

“Hah?”

You squirm uncomfortably. Hesitantly, you show him your old sketchbook. You kept it in case you come across a similar cursed spirit and need to compare notes. You’ve also got your new, blank sketchbook to start a new, more official record. “I like to study them,” you explain timidly. “It’s…kinda like my Digimon…I guess…”

Gojo takes the sketchbook from you, casually flipping through the pages. “Why cursed spirits, though?”

“Why’d you pick Digimon instead of some other anime?” You shrug nervously. “It’s hard to explain. At first, I thought some of them looked really cool. I made myself get better at art so that I could draw them, in case they were exorcised somehow. Then, I wanted to know how they got those shapes. It became about their behavior next. I’ve always loved mythology and animals, too, so maybe that influenced the interest a little.”

“Hmph. Alright. I’ll try to hold off on blowing it up.” Before he turns his head away, you notice a pinkness on his cheeks. “You can talk about them with me, if you want. Like…how I talk about Digimon and stuff.”

You duck your head, face hot. “Thank you.”

The assignment doesn’t take long at all. It may take more time for you to sketch the spirits than it does for Gojo to blow them away. There were a lot of them. They all took the same form which was vaguely pufferfish shaped. You know that the weaker, tinier spirits tend to group up, and these were no different.

Their behavior around Gojo was the odd thing, though. Unless the spirit is a higher grade, spirits never reacted to Suguru when you were around. It’s not like that with Gojo. He’d held back to let you sketch, but when he stepped toward you, the group started to shift restlessly in their places. Then, when he got too close, they shot their spines out. If Gojo hadn’t dashed forward and tackled you to the ground, covering you with his Infinity-lined body, you would be a porcupine.

“It was fascinating!”

Suguru looks faint as you recount your assignment to him over dinner. You made sure to pick up something light for him since eating curses fucks with his stomach. You got him some onigiri for the morning when he’ll be ravenous, making sure to mark them as yours before you tuck them in the communal fridge. Hopefully, it’ll succeed in tricking Gojo because you have no doubt that he’d eat them to antagonize Suguru.

“I wonder what it is about Gojo that freaked them out like that,” you mutter to yourself. “You’re as strong as him. Do you think you have some sort of calming effect on them because of your technique? Or what if they can sense the spirits inside you and it confuses them?”

“No more thinking tonight, Squid,” Suguru declares and closes your sketchbook. “We have three years to figure out both our techniques.”

“Fine.”

“Well, now you just sound like Gojo with that bratty attitude.”

“It’s not bratty! It’s called being a nerd.”

Suguru gives a shake of the head as he laughs. “You can be a nerd and a brat at the same time.” You watch him start to clean up the empty food containers. His face is doing something…weird. You can’t pinpoint this particular emotion. “Squid…are you up for touch today?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Can I hold you?” Suguru, uncharacteristically vulnerable, goes on to admit, “I was worried about you today.”

“If anyone was worried, it was me. You didn’t have me there to calm the spirits down.” You two ate while sitting in the floor, so you hold your arms out to him like the brat that he accused you of being. “C’mon. I never get Suguru hugs anymore. I really miss them.”

He smiles, a little shy. “Brat.”

“No. I’m Squid, remember? You never let me forget.”

For some reason, your brain replaced hold with hug. You’re fully expecting him to help you up and give you something quick, but he doesn’t do that. He drops in behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you back between his open legs. You squeak at the manhandling and your heart starts to beat faster. When your back is against his broad chest, he slips both his arms around your middle, and leans his chin on the top of your head with a happy sigh.

“Oh,” you whisper unthinkingly.

Suguru mistakes your tension with overstimulation. “Is this okay still?”

“Yes.”

Why are you so nervous? You’re not being bombarded by stimuli, so it can’t be because of that. Actually…it feels really good to be in his arms. He’s always so warm. You feel as if his arms are all-encompassing. It makes you feel safe. It makes you feel loved. And Suguru should be feeling that way, too, so you need to push away this weirdness inside you. You twist around in his arms, putting yours around his waist, shoving your face against his hard chest.

“Squid hugs are the best hugs,” Suguru whispers.

***

“Do you know how to help with a broken nose?”

You’re in the library when Sensei appears in the doorway and asks that almost ominous question. Slowly, you put the book back on the shelf, eyeing Sensei warily. He simply looks back at you, exhaustion seeping from every pore. The resignation you see in him is familiar, too. The pieces quickly add up. The air around Sensei paired with the cryptic text that came from Suguru with only a simple apology…

Oh, no.

“I can plug up the nosebleed and make an ice pack,” you answer with an equally tired sigh.

Sensei nods and gives a curt thanks. Before you and he go your separate ways, you sheepishly ask if you can talk to Suguru before he does, but Sensei shuts that idea down immediately. You’re then held up by being given a quick yet scathing lecture about needing to let Suguru face the consequences of his own actions and to stop coddling him. You bow profusely in apology as he’s leaving the room.

Ieiri is away on a research trip of sorts. Being taught the human body and putting her technique into use. Thankfully, she said she’ll be back today, but not until later tonight. Gojo is stuck with your shabby patchwork until then. So, you grab a first-aid kit, fill up an ice pack, and meet him in the classroom that Sensei told you he’d be waiting in.

Gojo has an arm against his face, likely trying to stop the bleeding since it’s stained. You wordlessly get to work. Unfortunately, you have experience with nosebleeds and broken nose. Noses? Can a nose be broken twice? Suguru’s nose still sits crooked from his father’s rage.

“Pinch,” you order softly after you take Gojo’s hand and move his fingers to the bridge of his nose. You reach for his face, pausing as he flinches when you get close. You give him a moment to prepare before you guide him to tilt his head back with gentle hands along his jawline. Blood is smeared all across his lower face and still dripping down from his nostrils. You cringe at the sight. Suguru got him good. “This might hurt,” you warn before you pack his nose with gauze.

“No lecture?” Gojo’s voice is high and nasally.

“You don’t think you’ll be getting one from Sensei?” You grab a damp, warm cloth and start wiping away the blood. “Besides, whatever you did, you got a broken nose for it. What else do I need to say?”

“Might prefer the broken nose over your disappointment,” he says with a pout.

“I’m not disappointed.” You pause. “I don’t think I am, anyway.”

Gojo leans his head back even further, sighing dramatically. “Your BFF is scary when he’s angry.”

“Suguru does this thing where he’ll hold all his emotions close. They sit there, building up pressure, and then one day, he’ll just explode. So, yeah, that’s a little scary. Not so much for me, though. I only worry.” He pouts more. “What’s that face for?”

“No worry for me?”

Your hands hesitate. “Maybe kind of?” Should you say what you want to? Eh. Gojo rarely cares. Why should you? “I’d love it if you two could get along, so I worry that this might keep that from happening forever, but…you probably pushed him. I could be wrong, but you probably deserved this.”

Gojo throws his clean arm over his eyes. “Yeah…I did…” Oh? That’s certainly a change of heart. “No one has ever touched me like that before…” There’s a redness on his cheeks now that doesn’t come from the blood stains. Is he embarrassed that he lost or something? “Why aren’t you and Suguru scared of me?” He tries to lean his head back down, but you keep him in place with a hand gripping his chin. “See? See! Not even my family touches me so casually!”

“What? Is your family actually scared of you?”

“Yeah. Always have been, even if they pretend not to be. They treat me like a god to hide it, but I learned. Everyone is scared of me. Maids apologized for touching me by accident when I was a kid and needed help getting dressed.” Your incredulousness must make him self-conscious because he shrugs. “C’mon, you’ve been around long enough now to pick up on this, Sketch. I’m the jujutsu world’s weapon.”

Normally, you’re immune to being shocked by Gojo’s directness. Not this time. “It’s stupid if you believe that.” Ugh. You’re so pissed off right now. You want to punch someone. That was his mother on the first day that he came to campus, right? Can she come back? Does she have Infinity? “You’re bleeding and breathing right now, aren’t you? Weapons don’t do that. Gods don’t get migraines because of their special eyes. You’re a human. You’re Gojo Satoru.”

“But who is Gojo Satoru if he’s not those things?”

“A sugar-addicted brat who pushes when he shouldn’t,” you intone. He giggles, taking it as the joke it’s supposed to be. “Aren’t you too young to be having an identity crisis? I can’t tell you who you are. I’m not even sure I know who I am. Don’t they say you’re supposed to figure that out in high school or something?”

“Dunno,” he mumbles.

The blood is cleaned from his face. You reach for the icepack but falter. You don’t feel like you’ve said anything helpful. If anything, you feel like you’ve put him in a bad spot. So, you try to reassure him. “It’s okay to take time to figure out who you are, Gojo—”

“Satoru.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Satoru…please…”

“Ah.” You can understand why he wants to be so informal. If he wants to distance himself from his stupid family, you’re more than happy to oblige. “Okay.” He yelps when you press the icepack against his nose. “Let’s all try to get along from now on, okay…Satoru.”

Later, you have Suguru’s big hand in yours while you carefully dab antiseptic on the cuts all over them. You know that this isn’t solely from punching Satoru in the nose, but you don’t press Suguru about it. He hasn’t spoken since you knocked on the door to his dorm room and you’re okay with that. You’ve been through this routine before. It’s what you two do. You patch each other up, being a silent and steady presence until whoever is upset wants to talk.

When you’ve cleaned all his cuts, you try to clean up all the pieces of paper from the band-aids, but Suguru stops you. He slips his fingers through yours and your entwined hands hover in the air between you two. You watch as he intensely studies your hands, so you do the same. When did his hands get so much bigger than yours? How do your hands feel to him, you wonder, because his are so rough. You like the difference, though.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru finally apologizes. “I broke the sunglasses you gave him.”

You huff in amusement. That’s what he’s worried about? “It’s okay.”

“They were your first purchase in Tokyo.”

Ah, you sometimes kind of hate how well he knows you. You do tend to assign some importance to seemingly unimportant trinkets. “I think I’m more attached to the piercings that we got together. I’ll probably keep this somewhere when I finally have to get a new barbell.” You stick out your tongue, as if he’s forgotten the piercing.

“I would’ve given you that first set of earrings if that was the case,” Suguru grumbles. Shoko had used you and Suguru as guinea pigs for her technique and healed your piercings, so Suguru quickly started the process of stretching his ears. As he said, he’d thrown away that first set of earrings.

“I know it’s weird to ask that sort of thing.”

“It’s you, Squid. Nothing is weird anymore.”

“Hmm, sounds like a challenge. I need to find something to disturb you.”

“Please don’t.”

“I’ll be nice for now because you had a bad day.”

“Bad day doesn’t even begin to cover it.” There’s a tired slump in his shoulders now. “He was playing around too much. Instead of exorcising the curse or letting me absorb it, he kept taunting it. The spirit threw me out a window trying to get to him, so I got pissed. I absorbed it and punched him in the face.” He pauses before lowly confessing, “I punched him a second time when I saw the sunglasses broke because I thought they were special to you. I was upset at myself for losing my temper and mad at him for not being careful with them even though it was my fault.”

You hum. “Is that guilt, Suguru?”

“Guilt for the sunglasses.”

“Right.” Again, you’re not pushing, but you doubt he doesn’t feel bad in some way. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be as melancholic as he is right now. “I’m going to let you sit on this, but…I think Satoru actually feels bad, so he might apologize. I didn’t tell him to, by the way. Just like I’m not telling you to forgive him. But I thought you should know.”

Suguru’s brow twitches. “You’re on first name basis with him now?”

“Yeah.”

“Ugh. He’s just doing it to piss me off.”

You’re the one to feel a flash of irritation now. “Doing what exactly? Being my friend? Are you saying that he can’t actually want to be my friend without some ulterior motive?”

Then, he rolls his eyes. Rolls his eyes! “Squid, you’re just reaching now. You know that’s not what I’m saying—”

“What are you saying, then? Has he said something bad that I don’t know about?”

The corners of his eyes are tight. Through gritted teeth, he answers, “No.”

“Okay. So, what’s the problem?”

“I just don’t trust him around you, okay?”

“You just said that he hasn’t done anything shady other than wanting to be my friend.” You yank your hands away from his, baring your teeth. “Am I not allowed to have those? Are you going to say that you don’t trust Shoko around me either?”

Then, he has the audacity to look hurt. “No! That’s not what I’m saying at all! You’re allowed to have friends!”

“Okay! Satoru and Shoko are my friends, too!” Are you overreacting? Tears prick at the corners of your eyes which makes you feel even more stupid. Why are you about to cry? Stupid, stupid, stupid brain. “I’m going back to my room. I’ve got blood under my nails and I fucking hate it.”

“Squid, I’m sorry—”

“Save it, Suguru.”

When you’re woken up by tapping against your window at one in the morning, you seriously debate shoving a pillow over your head and ignoring him. There’s a part of you that wants to let him stew in his guilt. You can’t keep forgiving him as soon as he comes running.

This seems like an insignificant thing to stay mad over, though…

After you take a deep breath, you roll out of bed, walk over to your window, and open it up for him to climb through.

Suguru genuinely does look miserable. More than punching Satoru or breaking your sunglasses made him. When he apologizes, you accept it. And when he shyly asks if he can sleepover, you let him. It’s been years since you guys have shared a bed, but your parents aren’t around to send him home.

Suguru said your hugs are the best hugs, but you have to disagree. You know you’ll wake up in the morning, skin slick with sweat, because he’s a furnace, but you’ve missed this. It’s always been so easy to let Suguru touch you. It got to the point where even the touch of your parents would make you wince, but not his. He asks, but you always say yes. You’re never overwhelmed by the way his big body curls around yours.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru apologizes one last time before you both fall asleep. “I’m scared to lose you,” he slurs sleepily.

“Never,” you mumble right back. “You’ll never lose me.”

***

Five months into the term, it’s time for the annual Goodwill Event.

This year wasn’t the best for Tokyo recruitment, so it’s only your class in the entire school. It’s not the same for Kyoto. They only have one person in their third year, Iori Utahime, but the rest of the years have more students. Normally, first years aren’t allowed to compete, and Tokyo would simply forfeit this year, but because of Suguru and Satoru’s strength, an exception is made.

Kyoto brings a total of eight students—three girls, five boys. Two judges come with them, too—their principal, Gakuganji, and a Grade 1 sorcerer, Mei-Mei.

It’s been about two months after the big Suguru-Satoru Blowout. As you predicted, they apologized to each other not long after the incident. Dare you say, they might be more than simple acquaintances now. Dare you say, they might actually be sort of friends. They’ve really bonded over being assholes, actually. They’re still stupidly competitive and bicker, but it’s no longer malicious. They can exist in the same space as you and there’s no more awkwardness. You spend time with them together and it’s so much fun.

The Goodwill Event reminds you of that deep-rooted fear of Suguru’s, though. A fear that you had before you left the village, you remember suddenly. It finally happens. Suguru is adored. Fawned over. Truly seen for the first time in your lives. The same is done to Satoru, too, but you banked on that happening. And, technically, it makes sense. Guys want their power and girls just want them period.

It was stupid to pretend that your school exists in a bubble. In the back of your mind, you’ve known that you’d eventually have to meet other sorcerers and that not everyone will like you. You’ve prepared yourself for that, haven’t you? It shouldn’t bother you that the Kyoto students barely even acknowledge your existence when you’re in the same space as Suguru and Satoru. You get it, right? They’re admirable. Shoko is awed at for her technique, too, and that’s great! It’s wonderful!

Just four days, you remind yourself as you’re sitting under a tree by yourself and shoving food in your mouth. Four days, and then the Kyoto students will be gone. It’s okay, you chant to yourself. No one noticed you leave, but you wanted some air, anyway. And, hey, you even made a friend! Sure, Shoko had to introduce you to her and break the ice between you two, but Iori has a sharp tongue and awesome sense of humor. A senpai to truly look up to. If you can get along with one new person then you can get along with the rest.

“Yo! Sketch!”

You pause right before you take a bite of your tamagoyaki. “Satoru?” Fruit sando and melon soda in hand, he easily flops down next to you at the base of the tree. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s exhausting dealing with all those brown nosers.” He takes an aggressive chunk out of his sandwich. “Ugh. I can’t believe we’re gonna have to share a dorm with these assholes for four days. I don’t need a bunch of strangers in my business.” His lip curls in disgust. “Suguru lecture you about playing nice?”

“Yes.” You take a grumpy bite out of your tamagoyaki. “I’m trying not to stress about it, but they were already talking about breakfast, and I can’t imagine the mess they’ll make.” It’s a struggle not to snap your chopsticks from the death grip that you’ve got on them. “Suguru says that I need to learn how to handle my routine being interrupted better.”

Satoru huffs. “Easy for him to say.”

Well, it makes you feel a lot better to know that someone else understands your pain. “All we can do is our best.”

“Or we can make their lives hell.”

You duck your head, trying to hide your smile. “It wouldn’t kill you to play nice with others, Satoru.”

“Naw, I think it actually would.”

“You’re nice to me.”

“Sketch is different.” Heat explodes in your cheeks. You outright turn your head away, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing how much he flustered you with that. Since he doesn’t tease you, he didn’t see. “We should stay in a hotel. We could do one of those capsule hotels, y’know?”

“And have my knees and elbows bumping against the sides? No way.” You stick your tongue out in disgust. After the third bump of a limb, you know it would drive you insane. Besides, “Would you even fit in one of those?” Ah. Wait. Were you supposed to take that seriously? “Were you joking?”

You look back over at him and he’s scratching the bridge of his nose. “Not really.”

“Ha. Okay, so, a couple of things—I think we’re too young to book a room, and a girl and boy in the same room? Scandalous.”

He gives an exaggerated sigh. “Fine.”

Sympathetic to his plight, you reach over to pat his knee. “Hang in there.”

These days, it’s a little easier for you to pick up on the kind of mood Satoru is in. It’s the second day now, early in the morning, and you’re dragged by Shoko to the designated gathering spot of Tokyo and Kyoto students. Just by the way that Satoru lashes out at people, purposely baiting them with taunts and cruel bluntness, you can tell that he’s in as bad a mood as you are. And you can’t blame him.

The other two girls on the Kyoto side are Ota Juri and Takata Tenka. They cleaned up after themselves, but they moved everything around in the kitchen and didn’t put it back in the original spot, so you got pissed off trying to find where something went. You could live with that, but they’re also…invasive. After they went looking for Suguru and Satoru yesterday and found the boys with you, their attitude toward you quickly changed. They think they’re slick, subtly probing about your friendship with Suguru and Satoru. They try to act familiar now, getting touchy, thinking that’ll warm you up to them faster.

To say that you’re on a wire’s edge today would be an understatement. You don’t know which one suggested it, but you want to deck whichever one of these girls suggested shopping as a way to build comradery between the sister schools and the people you may be working with in the future. They just want to experience the Tokyo scene like they probably couldn’t get permission to ride a train here on any other day.

At the mall, Ota and Takata take the lead. They have very domineering personalities, so their classmates allow the girls to drag them along. You try to sneak away, sometimes with Shoko and Iori behind you, but Ota and Takata hunt you down—probably trying to show off how caring they are to Suguru and Satoru or something. Eventually, you stop trying. You shut up and linger at the back of the group.

You try to do that, anyway.

Shoko, as equally over this trip, drags you into the beauty store because if she’s going down, you’re going with her.

“Aren’t you going to get anything?” Ota questions as you’re just passively glancing over products. You almost miss the question because you’re teetering on the edge of overstimulation. Why do beauty stores have to use so much fluorescent lighting? You forgot your fucking sunglasses.

“I’m not big into makeup. I don’t like how it feels on my face.”

Ota laughs obnoxiously. “You’re just using the wrong product, silly.”

You force a smile. “My mom already tested a bunch out with me. I just really don’t like any of it.”

Takata has been eavesdropping. She takes up Ota’s side, smiling as predatory as Ota is now. “Was it the foundation? I know the liquid can be heavy. Have you tried powder?” You lose control of your temper a little and roll your eyes. Don’t these girls know how to take no for an answer? “Don’t be like that,” Takata scolds. “Look, you could stand to use some makeup. We’re trying to help you.”

“Help how?”

If Satoru hadn’t spoken up ahead of time, you’d probably tip over when he practically drapes himself on your shoulder.

Ota and Takata perk up at his presence. You can almost see the hearts in their eyes. “Satoru!” Takata chirps.

“Oi, oi, oi, you’re getting awfully familiar there. Who gave you first name privilege, huh?”

Her syrupy sweet smiles falter. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought—”

“Don’t hurt yourself. Steam might start spewing from your ears. It’s obvious you don’t have a lot going on up there.”

Takata deflates at the insult. “Sa—Gojo—” her gaze flickers to you. Pleading for you to intervene. When she gets nothing from you, she scrambles. “I’m sorry if we offended you somehow—”

“Not me you should be apologizing to.” Your eyes widen. Is he doing this for you? “Y’know, Sketch, it’s good that someone has some sense around here. Make sure you don’t get attached to these idiots, okay? They’ll be so busy thinking about makeup that they’ll up as bloody smears on the wall pretty soon.”

You frown as you look up at him. “What if I do want makeup?”

He brightens. “Can I buy you something?”

Try to make the favoritism less obvious, you think with a twitch of the brow. “Find an art store and we’ll talk.”

“Eh? I already did,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world that he would go scouting for art supply stores. “Can we leave now? I’m bored,” he whines. You hope you’re not gawking when you nod. “Awesome! Let’s go! I found a shop that sells sweets, too!”

Suguru is hovering at the entrance of the store, brows furrowed in concern, but he steps out of the way for you and Satoru, who is practically dragging you out with a grip on your wrist. Suguru isn’t allowed confusion or shock because Satoru is snatching his hand on the way out.

“Satoru, you’re going to rip my arm off,” Suguru complains when the other students are out of sight.

Satoru stops dead in his tracks, so sudden that you and Suguru almost crash into him. He looks over his shoulder at you both. The angle you’re in allows you to see the wideness of his eyes. He still hasn’t let go of your wrist. Actually, his grip tightens, which makes Suguru get huffier.

“Satoru,” he calls out exasperatedly.

Oh.

You’re not sure if Suguru has realized it himself, but he’s using Satoru’s given name now. No wonder Satoru is stunned. It’s so odd. What changed between this morning and now? Because Suguru was definitely referring to him as his surname earlier. You won’t ask because Suguru might clam up and this peace may shatter.

“Oh. Uh. Sorry,” Satoru mutters as he finally releases his hold on you and Suguru.

On the fourth and final day of the Goodwill Event, something…weird happens during your individual match.

Tokyo easily won the team battle. The individual battles are where Kyoto can even the odds. The thing is that Satoru and Suguru are going to win their individual match. As much as you adore her, you expected that Shoko would lose hers, and she did. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but you think that she flirted with Iori more than fight, but Iori didn’t allow herself to get too flustered, and took the win.

You think that Kyoto expects you to lose your match because plans were already made about the tiebreaker. There would be a random draw for one last individual match to decide which school wins the day. There was no word on what would be done to break the tie if each school has their own point.

So, your win is an upset.

If you’re honest with yourself, you didn’t think that you’d win, either. It didn’t look good. It was your luck that you were pitted against the biggest guy on Kyoto’s side. Not as tall as Suguru and Satoru, sure, but the guy is built like a literal tank. During the team battle, if Suguru hadn’t summoned a cursed spirit in time to cushion the blow, this guy would’ve knocked him out with a single punch.

You didn’t stand a chance at winning, you’d told yourself as you were running through the forest, but after the whole mall fiasco, you wanted to try to last long enough to not be the laughingstock of this year.

As soon as the siren sounded, you went running. Your opponent supplemented his lack of technique with shikigami use, so you had time while he channeled energy into an intermediary to summon his shikigami. You’re trying to think of a plan on the fly, not sure what to do since your technique is useless against people.

This would be easier if there weren’t still so many fucking cursed spirits left in the forest. You’re pacifying them, obviously, but you still have to duck around them. Ugh, why can’t you control them like Suguru can? No, at this point…

I wish you would just die, please. Bloody and painfully would be preferred.

And, as soon as you have that thought, the big curse that you were dashing past moves. Your body freezes on instinct. The spirit shouldn’t be moving around you. Your technique is still active. At the most, this curse is Grade 3. It raises a clawed hand, and you throw your arms up, ready to protect yourself from a whole new problem.

There’s a sickening crunch and the curse screeches in pain. Purple blood splatters across the front of you. When you drop your arms, confused as to what attacked the spirit and saved you, you watch the gruesome scene of the curse slowly ripping limbs away from its body. It still has that dead-eyed look that spirits get when you’ve pacified them, but it moves with an urgency to tear itself apart.

Once the curse has only one arm left, it proceeds to push its arm through its own chest, grabbing its heart. That heart is thrown at your feet. Then, as its final act, it slowly twists its head around until it’s the opposite way, pulls its head off, and the curse finally crumbles to pieces.

What the fuck happened?

From your left, there’s more of those crunches and high-pitched screeching. A curse in the shape of a centipede is trying to crawl toward you between picking legs off with its pincers. At your feet, the curse keeps gnawing at itself, screeching in pain every now and then, until it, too, finally dies and crumbles.

If you didn’t hear the loud roar of your opponent’s shikigami, you’d still be standing there in shock. Your mind runs faster than your legs. That’s not normal behavior. Self-preservation is ingrained into a curse…unless it’s forced like with Suguru. You asked them to die. Moreso, you wanted it to be bloody and painful. The curses listened.

You purposely seek out another spirit now. Die, you mentally scream at the first spirit you see. Unlike with the others, this one doesn’t take time to mutilate itself. It tears its head clean off and that’s it. Blood splatters across your shoes briefly before it fades away with the cursed spirit.

A plan slowly takes shape.

Didn’t you and Shoko stumble across a pack of fly heads yesterday? You’d split up because you knew Kyoto would try to follow Satoru’s presence and get to the winning Grade 2 before you. The fly heads weren’t a bother and the bell had rung sounding your win, anyway.

Where were those? By the river, right? Yes!

You’re getting tired from running and burning cursed energy. You’re pretty sure that you only have one shot at this because you’ll either pass out from exhaustion or get your ass beat by a shikigami. So, yeah, you need to make this count.

The fly heads haven’t moved far.

Kyoto Guy and his shikigami aren’t far behind you.

Just as they’re running out of the tree line, you look at the pacified fly heads. Protect me, you plead them, but that’s too much to ask. It was a test. The fly heads don’t move, but you’re forced to when the shikigami lunges. That thing is sporting some nasty fangs that catch on your arm as you narrowly dodge it.

You play this game of cat and mouse, luring the shikigami away from the sorcerer. All you need is for Kyoto Guy to get close enough to the fly heads. He’s an asshole, laughing cruelly as he watches you scramble away from his shikigami, getting bloodier as you get sloppier from fatigue. Iori was gossiping with you and Shoko, and this guy has a crush on Takata. You figure he’s not happy about Satoru’s cruelty which was a result of him defending you.

Explode! You plead the fly heads when Kyoto Guy steps in their range. Explode, explode, explode!

They do.

The shikigami immediately drops the fight with you, thinking the fly heads are the more immediate threat. Like little paint bombs, the fly heads splatter their blood across Kyoto Guy when they force themselves to combust. There are so many of them that he’s continually being splattered.

While he’s blinded by the blood of cursed spirits, you pour cursed energy into your fist. Sprinting past the shikigami that’s snapping at fly heads, you give this asshole a ferocious kick to the balls to get him to hunch over.

You slam your fist square in the center of his face. There’s so much force in the punch that he goes flying back, landing in the shallow river with such a painful sounding thud, and he doesn’t get up. You’d think you killed him if it wasn’t for the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

The alarm sounds.

Tokyo wins.

Later, you’re walking out of the infirmary behind Shoko who proudly announces, “She gave him a concussion!”

Sensei gives you all a lecture on good sportsmanship after Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko break out into applause and cheers.

#my fic #jjk fanfic #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #jjk gojo #jjk geto #autistic gojo #autistic reader

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kisskiss-slashslash · 1 year

Note

Ooo ooo! I got a good one:D

Slashers finding and reacting to their s/o in the brink of death because of another slasher!

Angst to fluff pls:D

That really IS a good one.

Slashers finding their s/o close to death thanks to another slasher

Warnings: Blood

Jason Voorhees

He notices your sleep getting more and more restless lately. You complain about frequent nightmares, and often wake up with cuts and bruises that weren't there the night before. Jason tries so hard to dismiss it as coincidence. Hell, you are living in a forest; there are a myriad of ways to injure yourself here without noticing. Against his better judgement, he goes out to deal with the recently arrived campers.

When he returns, he immediately notices you thrashing around in your sleep, and the red stains spreading from your skin to your sleep clothes and finally to the bedsheets. Jason panicks, and tries to shake you awake. This isn't good, you're losing so much blood... No, he can't lose you. Not like this, not in any other way either. By the time you finally wake up, you are already dangerously weak from the blood loss. Jason patches you up with the first aid kits from the cabins, praying that it is enough. Then he gets ready to sleep.

Seems like that pesky old man didn't learn his lesson last time. But Jason gladly repeats it, hoping it will stick this time, and returns to your side. Your hand is warm in his, and your face is slowly gaining a bit more color. He sighs with relief.

You'll be okay.

Vincent Sinclair

You just wanted to take a walk in the sorrounding woods. Nothing to be worried about, right?

Well, wrong. You hear the chainsaw from far away, but you play it off as just a trick of your imagination, or maybe just some workers from the county. What you did not expect was the huge man in a leather mask breaking out of the woodwork and coming right for you. The saw digs into your side, but you somehow manage to get away.

Vincent is looking for you. You left on your walk an hour ago and have yet to return. You're never gone for that long. Everything within him freezes when he sees you stumbling out of the forest, clutching the gaping, bleeding wound.

He takes you into his arms and lets out loud gasps and whines, his unuseable vocal cords straining to form words he cannot speak. He drags you back home, where Bo and Lester are watching TV. Bo drops his can of beer when he sees you. "Shit!"

"That looks bad. Vinnie, we need to take them to the hospital..." Lester takes over carrying you. From far away, the whole family hears the chainsaw roar.

Vincent stares at Bo head on. And he signs. "Let me borrow your shotgun."

He did not end up killing your assailants, but a very pissed off Vincent coming after them with Bo's shotgun taught them not to bother the Sinclairs again. After they are dealt with, Vincent has Bo drive him to the hospital, where you are. You open your eyes and find yourself sorrounded by your family.

"Sorry I made you guys worry", you mutter.

Vincent squeezes your hand and shushes you. You need to focus on getting back on your feet.

Freddy Krueger

When you come stumbling into his dream realm, he immediately notices that something is wrong. You are *bleeding* and pale as a ghost, and can barely stand. You're not sleeping... *you've fainted*!

"Shit shit shit..." He props you up. "Hey, who did this?!"

"Hock...." You sputter. "Hockey mask..."

His eyes widen and he gnashes his teeth. "Jason? That fucking hockey puck?!"

You nod weakly. "I... I'm hiding... Don't know how long... Must have passed out..."

Freddy grabs your shoulders a bit tighter. "Listen to me. I need you to wake up, right now. I'll show that fucking mama's boy what happens when he fucks with you. So go on! Wake up! Wa-..."

He finds himself stuffed into a closet with you, and reminds himself to teach you better hiding spots once this is over. You pass out again almost immediately, and while Freddy hates to leave you like this, he has a disobedient *dog* he has to deal with, first.

Once Jason has been sent back to where he belongs, Freddy returns to the closet, where he finds you slowly coming to.

"Did you have a nice nap?", he asks cordially. He is glad to see you awake again. That means the injuries may not have been as bad as they seemed at first. But still... "You should probably get to a hospital..."

"Yeah... Probably..." You fumble your cellphone out of your pocket and dial 911.

Later, once you're sleeping peacefully in your hospital bed, Freddy pops back into your dreams.

"That'll teach that bastard not to show his ugly mug here again", Freddy sneers. "Are you okay now?"

"Couldn't be better", you reply with a smile.

Freddy is pretty rough around the edges. But during moments like this, he shows that he really cares.

Bubba Sawyer

Maybe Drayton was right when he said that nothing good would come out of this road trip. But you love wax museums and Bubba had heard about this really famous one in Ambrose... He would have never guessed that it would end like this.

You have been separated from the rest of the Sawyers, and now everyone is frantically looking for you. Most of all Bubba, who blames himself for not taking better care of you.

They track you to the Sinclair house, where Bubba hears a pained howl from the basement. And when he finally reaches the secret workshop, he sees the masked man dig his ornate carving knives into your flesh. The man himself has a pretty nasty bite wound on his hand; a display of you fighting back when he tried to inject you with the paralytic.

The chainsaw roars to life, and the man with the carving knives only barely manages to dodge it. He seems to know well enough that he and his little butter knives have little chance against the chainsaw, so he retreats, while Bubba cuts you lose from the operating table and carries you upstairs.

Bubba isn't the only one who would have loved to make these rotten brothers pay for hurting you, but your health was more important right now. He *somehow* managed to talk Drayton into taking you to the hospital, despite the eldest's protest about the cost.

Bubba hates that Drayton won't allow him to visit you, but when you come back, the first thing he does is hug you as tightly as a drowning man clinging to a lifesaver.

Don't ever scare him like that again, please.

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #freddy krueger x reader #bubba sawyer x reader

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try-set-me-on-fire · 1 year

Note

Ooh how abut number '11. toothpaste kisses' for soft prompts! Love your writing

Send me soft prompts! Ao3 collection post here!

Eddie is going to make everyone late.

Look: he really thinks most of it isn't his fault. He'd covered for somebody on B shift Tuesday, so he'd only had 24 hours off and he'd had to sleep through a good chunk of it, so laundry went a little by the wayside, leading to him tossing a frantic load into the washer at 5 am when he realized he had no clean work clothes. And, again, he’d covered that Tuesday shift after a 12 hour on Monday, so it’s reasonable that he forgot how dire the toothpaste situation was. The look Chris had given him when he said they needed to run to the store right now at bright and early 6 am would have withered a lesser soul, so at 6:04 Eddie, still in sweatpants and wearing ratty old slides is running down the block solo to grab whatever they have at the nearest corner store. He winces as he grabs the baking soda kind (Chris hates it) and books it back to the house, trying to breathe through the waves of oh god I’m a terrible father who left my kid alone and forgot about dental hygiene.

The house is considerably more crowded when he gets back to it. First, Chimney is lugging a dresser up the front stairs.

“What- hey- what-“ Eddie grabs the bottom of the thing, hastily shoving the toothpaste in his pocket. “What’s this?”

Chim tilts his head at him. “We were getting rid of it and you said you could use a new dresser, remember? I texted you I was coming to drop it off.”

Eddie’s phone is probably dinging away uselessly on his bedside table. “Right, yeah, sorry. There was a toothpaste emergency. Uh, thank you, we can just-“

Before he can come up with some way to finish that sentence, Carla opens the door. He hadn’t even seen her car, shit, he hopes there’s no calls right away when they get to work because he’s clearly not slept enough and should lay down again as soon as possible.

“Oh!” She says, surprised and cheerful. “Why don’t you bring that into the living room. I put your clothes in the dryer, Eddie, I figured if you were running the wash this early it was an emergency.”

Well thank god somebody has a plan and knows whats happening. He and Chim set the dresser next to a wall someplace as out of the way as they can get, and then Eddie points at Carla. “Thank you,” he says, trying to put as much sincerity into the words as possible, before pivoting to head down the hall to find Chris. Its not a long journey, the kid standing right around the corner. Eddie hands him the toothpaste. “There you go.”

Chris scrunches his nose. “Baking soda kind. Gross. And I don’t need it, Dad, Buck brought the good stuff.”

“Buck?”

“Hey.”

Eddie pivots again to look in the kitchen, where the man himself is leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee out of his current favorite mug, the one with the squiggly little drawing of a frog and a chicken dancing together. “Hi.” Eddie supposes he isn’t exactly surprised he’s here, Buck is a feature of their household as much as the mug he’s holding is, but he is a little concerned about the amount of people popping out of the woodwork without him noticing. “Anybody else here? Why’d you bring toothpaste?”

Buck grins. “I think you’ve seen everybody now. And you were running out when I was here last, you’ve been busy, figured it might be helpful.”

Eddie nods, a little… wordless, maybe, a little bowled over. “I’m gonna…” he gestures towards the bathroom and limply leaves the conversation. By the time he’s brushed his teeth (it is the good stuff, the pricier name brand arctic fresh, Eddie usually goes for generic spearmint) Chris and Carla are ready to head out the door. Eddie is glancing at the clock and nervously calculating exactly how wet the clothes he’s about to put on are going to be as he says goodbye, leaning to kiss Carla, Chris, and Chim’s cheeks. “Ok, thank you, have a great day at school, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It takes a few seconds of staring at Chimney’s trying not to laugh face, and listening to Chris’s not-trying-not-to-laugh-at-all guffaws before his brain catches up to his actions. “Oh my god.”

Chimney grins and Eddie shakes his head futilely against the oncoming barrage. "I always knew I was your favorite." He smacks a hand to his cheek and swoons, and Eddie rolls his eyes. "Everyone said it was Buck, but I knew the Han-Diaz love connection was just waiting to happen."

Buck is laughing somewhere behind him, and Eddie wants to see what look is on his face, but instead he rolls his eyes again, harder, and says "I'm going to check on the laundry," and shoos his son out the door before fleeing to the dryer.

Of course it's all still fucking damp. They're already pushing it on time though (maybe if all three of them are late they can unionize against Bobby?) so he shucks his sweats and shimmies his way into the unpleasant cool of his pants. When he emerges from his shirt, wincing, he finds Buck in the hallway with him.

“Chimney says we’re running late and if you don’t hurry up he’s leaving you for dead, no matter your new found love.”

“I know, I know, I just need to find my shoes-“

“I put ‘em by the door,” Buck smiles, and then the smile becomes a grin. “Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” Eddie says with the right amount of apprehension for the situation.

“No goodbye kiss for me?” He tilts his head, grin thoroughly classifiable as shit-eating.

“We’re going to the same place, Buck. I’m probably gonna ride in your car.” He’s absolutely going to ride in his car, they both know it.

“Ah, so is Chimney, he got one.”

And Eddie could defend himself with the reasonable explanation that he just happened to be standing in a row next to the people he’d meant to press his affection onto, or the less reasonable explanation that he only gives goodbye kisses to people whose names start with a C, but instead he says “You want a kiss, Buck?”

And he’s moving before he loses nerve, and Buck is also moving, laughing at him, so again Eddie feels like it’s not entirely his fault when his kiss lands sort of on his cheek but mostly- it’s mostly on his mouth, which is soft and exhaling a little surprised sound against Eddie. They both pull back but maybe not as far as they probably should, if they weren’t them, if Eddie hadn’t spent the last few weeks or maybe years wondering how he could ask Buck to live on the shelf with all the mugs he’s cycled through as favorites. Then Buck darts his head forward, pecking another little kiss to his mouth, and Eddie chases him for a third, and Buck’s hand tangles in his shirt and he says “Oh” into Eddie’s mouth because the fabric is wet under his touch.

“Buckley, Diaz, I’m getting in my car, and I’m not going to defend you to Cap!”

Even at Chimney’s words they don’t entirely jump apart, just slide back a little, stand more firmly facing each other as the front door distantly opens and shuts.

“We’re gonna be late,” Buck says, an awed little smile pulling at his face.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, a little breathless. Maybe he can blame that on the cold clothes. “We should probably get going.”

Buck nods, and barely finishes the motion before Eddie puts his hands on his face and pulls him in for another minty kiss, firm, a promise. Buck is grinning when he backs off and Eddie is sure his face is a mirror image as he ducks around him to go find his shoes.

They’re late. But as Buck settles next to him on the couch, all pressed along his side despite the still damp clothes, Eddie thinks it was worth the wait.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fox #my writing #911 abc

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stories-and-stars · 2 years

Text

Dreams of Chaos

Laxus x fem!reader

! warning episodes 75+ spoilers !

Reader is a powerful chaos mage, who leads a simple life for being one of the most powerful types of wizard. After asking a friend to lull them to sleep with magic, their life changes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bell to the shops front door chimed in the summer air that rushed in. The owner set her tea down and scampered to the front counter,

“ Hi, how can - Oh Hi, Mystogan” she playfully leaned on the desk. His eyes narrowed at her from under his mask. He placed a fanned staff on the wooden table she now stood upright at. Pieces of the wooden frame for the fanned magical webbing were broken off or in half.

“ I can repair this easily, I'll never know how you manage to break magic staffs so quickly. I'll just need a couple days” the short woman laughs at the cloaked mage in front of her. He simply nods.

“ you don't have to conceal who you are here, Jellal” she reassured him.

The wizard’s blue hair fluffed up from under the removed hood,

“ my apologies, I forget sometimes. This Earth’s Jellal is a infamous criminal. I have to be very careful.”

She nodded in understanding, taking the staff from the counter top to her woodworking bench. She began to pull out various items she’d need to repair the wood and imbue it with magic again. The two talked while she quietly began working. He recalled his latest job that explained how the staff accidentally broke and she stifled a laugh. They caught up about things since the last time he’d been in with another of his tools for repair. He has a lot of entertaining stories that she listened to with great interest. She had none however. Simply talked about a local farmer who asked for a chair leg to be repaired.

“ I am able to enchant entire forests at once if I so wish and I've become known as a simple woodworker for farmers chairs.” she laughed heartily.

“ you can always join Fai-” she didn't let him finish,

“ this is the life I wanted”. He’d attempted to get her to join many times in the past. Would recall the antics he’d hear about his guild. He was almost never there himself but she knew he still cared and was happy to call himself a member. Always tried to emphasize the fact that she’d meet so many new people, that she wouldn't be alone anymore.

She liked being alone.

The stares and comments never come from an empty home. She liked the trees that enjoyed her company. The rain that lulled her to sleep and the storms that calmed her senses. Lightning was always her muse for poetry and storms her escape from reality or the comfort she needed to sleep.

The blue haired wizard realized the mood had dropped, he replaced his hood and began to bid his old friend farewell.

“ before you go, please put me to sleep for a while. there's been no storms in the area recently. I haven't been able to sleep much.” she pleaded. He nodded and followed her upstairs to her bedroom. She got comfortable and reached for his hand. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and she closed her eyes to a much needed rest.

“ thank you” she mumbled as he took his leave.

She opened her eyes to a bright sky and beautiful pond nearby. Birds singing in the trees and a small stream running into the pond. The sound of the water lightly running into the body of water below it. She closed her eyes and laid in the cool grass under her. As gorgeous as this scene is, she was hoping for a storm to rest during. Maybe a cosy overhang to sit under and listen to the rain fall while the lightning lit up the sky with its dance and power.

“ for being my dream this isn't what I expected” she muttered to herself.

“ that would be because it’s mine “ a deep voice said from behind her.

she never shot up so fast, her heart racing in her chest. She stood in a defensive stance and her hands lit up purple and black. she scanned the nearby tall grass and forested area for the owner of the voice until a tall blonde man stepped out. His physique almost throwing her off guard, wearing only black jeans rolled up slightly. She felt her cheeks flush, only for a moment. She regained her composure and demanded,

“ who are you?”

He smirked and she nearly lost sense again. The hell y/n , she cursed internally.

“ I was gonna ask the same thing, this is my sleep spell after all” his voice low and warning. she blushed again.

“ your sleep spell? I was put under one. “ she questioned.

“ you can put the magic away, I'm not going to attack. I've never seen magic that looks like that before” He didn't answer her question. For some reason she relaxed and lowered her hands, magic flowing away from them.

“ I'm laxus, I had a guild mate place me under a spell so I could rest. This spell. it would seem you’re friend sent you to the wrong one” he proposed.

“ perhaps but he’s a skilled wizard, something else must have happened. Magic is a fickle thing. My name is y/n” the h/c haired mage stood in place. The blonde man walked towards her and sat down next to the spot she had been laying in. hanging his hands off his knees.

“ well hello, y/n. it seems we are here together until the spell wears off for a while.” His eyes looking towards the pond and enjoying the scene. He had a dark tattoo on the side of his toned abs with what seemed like a special mark in the middle. she couldn't quite make out. she took a seat next to him and leaned back on her hands.

“ what kind of magic do you use?’’ she inquired. he again ignored her question and asked his own.

“ what did you expect with your dream? what's wrong with mine?” he feigned hurt feelings. she laughed lightly and sat up a little more.

“ I wanted a lightning storm, there hasn't been any in my area and that's the only time I can sleep well.” she looked down at the pond to see brightly colored koi swimming freely in the clear water.

“ I love koi!” she accidentally blurted out. she cupped her face as her cheeks flushed red once again. she missed the small smile that graced the mans lips for only a moment at her outburst.

“ I think they look very peaceful in calm waters, this is the same dreamscape I like to go every time. I find it very peaceful” he leaned back on his arms now and took in the warm sun rays with his eyes closed. she couldn't help but take in the sight. the way the sun fell over his hard features and softened them only slightly. how smooth his skin looked and how muscular he was. she caught herself starring and quickly looked away. not that it mattered as that image was burned into her mind now. new feelings came washing over her by his presence but he also calmed her. she felt no harm would come from him.

“ do you want to walk by the water with me?” the words came courageously out of her mouth without her permission. his blue eyes opened softly and met her e/c ones.

“ sure” his smooth voice answered with a small smile. he stood up and extended his hands out. she lightly placed hers in his and noticed how large his were to her much smaller ones. they seemed to fit almost perfectly. he helped her to her feet like she weighed nothing. she noticed a small tint on his cheeks before he looked away quickly and let go of her hands. they walked down the small overlook they were sitting on to the ponds edge down below. the grass going all the way to the edge, cold and plush like, it felt nice under her toes. she dipped her right foot in and it was surprisingly warm to the touch. before she could get the words out about it’s temperature. she felt a firm shove and into the water she went, clothes and all. resurfacing, the blonde man was laughing so hard he supported himself with his hands on his thighs. the young woman raised her hands from the water while he wasn't looking and used her magic to knock him into the water with a firm shove to his ass , which also looked firm, while he was hunched over. she let a giggle come over her and waited for him to resurface. after what seemed a little too long she tried to look under the waters surface for him. she jolted from the unexpected arm around her waist from behind. Her back was pressed against his hard torso and his grip around her waist was strong. his other hand snaked up her side and took a hold of her wrist. she stifled a moan from the sensualness of it.

“ that wasn't very nice” his voice playful but deep and smooth. inviting she thought. her heart was racing from the proximity and his scent was intoxicating.

“ and who started it? “ she teased back in a confident voice. he let out a low chuckle and it sent chills down her spine.

“ that's fair” he released her and swam to the shore. pulling himself out of the water. his shoulder muscles rippling from the action. she followed behind and lifted herself out. her clothes stuck to every curve of her fit frame. He watched her walk over to the nearby low tree branches and begin removing said clothing. his face turned beet red and he turned away.

“ Hey! what are you doing?” he said with his back to her. she laughed and replied,

“ relax, I'm just taking my shirt and shorts off. you won't see anything. thanks to someone my clothes are soaked. hang your pants up too”. he realized she was right and stripped his jeans off to his black boxer shorts underneath. hanging them on the tree to dry. as she tried to wring her hair out slightly he took in her slim, strong features and how damn good her ass looked in the simple black set she had on.

“ you didn't happen to dream this place up with a hot spring?” she raised on eyebrow.

“umm... I think I actually did, up the hill a little ways” he pointed up. she waived her hand out for him to lead the way. he walked passed her and she followed behind. after a short walk around some trees they came up on what looked like the other side of the small waterfall to a bubbling hot spring. she gleefully giggled and sank her body into the warm waters. relaxing against the rocks in the water she let her muscles un-tense. she sat with her eyes closed for a while. hearing him sink into the water too, they just sat and enjoyed the feeling. enjoyed each other being there too. she could feel the water move beside her but she didn't open her eyes. she felt him move in the water until he was in front of her legs. he slid his hand from her ankle up to the outside of her thigh and let it settle on her hip. her breathing ragged and he knew it. she kept her eyes closed but her mouth was now parted open. he placed his other hand above her shoulder on the rock. his body was between her legs as he hovered his lips just over her collar bone, not touching. her hands reached up and found his waist. she held her hands there and felt his hard abs flex under her touch. he squeezed her hip where his hand still was and she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped. this caused him to let out a ragged breath against her skin.

“ meet me here again, I'm waking up” he pleaded before he vanished. his warmth left with him as she sat there red faced.

“ What was that!” she yelled, she grabbed her chest and felt her heart pounding. she calmed down slightly and felt herself beginning to wake up. soon she left the dreamscape too. she woke up in her bedroom. his strong hand still felt as if it was on her hip. she sat up and walked to her bathroom. she could see the pink tint to her own cheeks and threw cold water on her face.

“laxus, where have I heard that name before” she thought. she grabbed a small bag and headed into the nearby town. enjoying the long walk to try and clear her mind. she came up to the small magic shop in town. she remembered instantly why she never does this. the other shop goers shielded their children and quickly left the shop. she knew her magical energy could be felt, it was too powerful not to. everyone reacted the same way. cower, say something about it feeling dark or evil. then she realized that laxus never did. never once said anything. like It wasn't even there. the thought made her face heat up and she quickly made her way to the spell books. she found the tome she was looking for and brought it up to the counter. as she rifled to find her wallet the shop keeper stepped back from the desk.

“ fi-fifty thousand jewel” he stuttered. she sighed at his fear and placed the money on the counter. taking the book and leaving without another word. the interaction brought down her high mood but she quickly got back to her secluded cabin and sat down with her tome. a sleeping spell tome. if she put her mind to it, she was sure she could learn a couple new spells. one she found very entertaining.

#laxus #fairytail #laxus x reader #laxus dreyar #magic #dragon slayer

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skylerhyrule · 6 months

Note

ngl I've been sitting on a lot of this for a while and now that the brainrot has come to consume me once again, I have to inflict them upon you too because this is all your fault <3

woe, htbf winter headcanosn be upon ye

They don't take as many jobs in the winter because traveling in bad weather sucks which leaves more room for lazy days where none of them have any plans other than eating together and enjoying their company

the other 3 use the time to teach touya more skills or practice old ones like knitting/sewing, smaller woodworking projects that can be done indoors (not that touya or akito mind being outside in cold weather), or touya reads his favorite mystery books out loud to them and he lives how they speculate the ending or the twist all the while he knows exactly whats going to happen since he's read it before

Touya makes himself a sweater and it's awkwardly shaped and definitely has some missing stitches in some places but he made it with materials he bought with money earned and it's all his and he's proud of it

An and Kohane cried

All of the years touya spent his winters looked up in the castle, he thought he didn't mind the cold weather when really he was just overall unable to feel the warmth that he was missing, that even now, when he had literal ice magic and is physically cold all the time due to his naturally lower body temperature, he's never felt warmer

Sobs. Anyways

Touya has seen snow and walked in it before but he's never been allowed to play in the snow

After the first big snow that sticks to the ground, akianhane plan a massive attack on their training field, they pretend theyre going to train touya during prime ice season but SIKE they have a snow fight: a full battle field built up with pre-built walls and snowballs ready to attack

They prepared ahead of time because they thought touya might have a natural advantage but he was too nervous to actually use his magic with intent to fight his family so he gets his ass kicked

they have so much fun and anhane get so cold that they get sick after and the boys have to nurse them back to health. idiots

speaking of training, touya has been using the colder temps to experiment more with what he can create and how he can create things to use to his advantage

On clearer days he tries to practice making snow the same way he did at his failed execution (insert processing trauma here) but he hasnt been able to do it. most of the time he accidentally shoots a bunch of chunks of ice in the sky or makes hail but not snow-like crystals

Somehow someone suggests trying to get touyas adrenaline running because hes only been capable of big moves like that when tensions were high (escaping guards and escaping death)

They figure if they can elicit (a healthy amount of) fear from him, he can learn how to better act on instinct and not overthink it

Out in the training field, the other 3 take turns “fighting” touya with their magic to see if that can get something out of him (insert cool fights and banter here)

When that doesn't work, they take a break lying in the snow and talk about what scares them (insert emotional connection and vulnerabilities here)

They figure out touyas most “normal” fear is heights, so naturally Kohane lifts them all however high in the air so that they can see above the surrounding treetops. Touya is CLINGING to akito but not quite fearing for his life, just scared enough because he's not actually afraid of Kohane dropping them and his trust in An and Akito to intervene if something goes wrong is too strong

But theyre like NO you have to trust YOURSELF

Kohane says "I'm gonna drop us if you dont make it snow right now and itll be all your fault

yeah right, that's a bluff, Touya's confident

She shakes the platform a bit so the edges start crumbling to the ground and he feels that fight flight or freeze instinct come in (an and akito are also freaked out now) shes not kidding (but she probably is) (but what if she isnt)

she drops the platform barely a few centimeters and touya reaches an arm out and tries

Ummm he tries a bit too well and he sends a burst of magic up high and it shimmers down as snow. He did it!

Kohane brings them down slowly and once on the ground he tries to remember what it felt like and does it again but he didn't realize how low he felt due to the adrenaline and feels faint

the other 3 walk him home and keep telling him how proud they and what a good job he did

important to note that they never make him feel like he's burdening them with having to carry him home once he starts feeling sleepy or taking so much time to train him gradually even though touya thinks that he should be somewhat sorry for passing out on them again, if he apologized they would just yell at him

he falls asleep on Akito's back and wakes up under five blankets and the fireplace burning with dry clothes on and Akito sleeping on top of him

he has just enough strength to reach for the water on their bedside table and then he passes out again

next time he wakes up, its the next morning and he is absolutely dying of too many blankets, they went overboard with trying to warm him up and now he's too warm

he rolls out of bed without disturbing the others and carries on his morning with coffee and reading until the others wake :)

So these werent actually hcs. I think I just accidentally wrote a fic in bullet form HAHA APRIL FOOLs

I have some questions also if thats okay, if you find the time

is touya able to manipulate snow and/or any frozen water or is he just able to create it and to what extent is he able to precisely create his ice?

I also have questions about the mechanics of Kohane's magic because the argument can be made that ice is technically a mineral and therefore a part of the earth? I don't mean to be annoying but I am genuinely interested in the limitations of their magic abilities.

As far as like, winter holidays go, is there something like a celebration where they could exchange gifts?

Assuming the vsingers are gods, would their “birthdays” or anniversaries be considered holidays? Like is August 31st the most holy day of the year

Another unrelated question, what is the situation of Akitos runaway sister? because in my head, I have the rough idea of a plot where Mizuki and Touya become unlikely bestest best friends for life and accidentally find her and attempt to reunite her with akito which I think adds another interesting and unique family dynamic to this series full of interesting and unique family dynamics

Okay thats all for now I have more probably but I need to write them down first thank you for your time

Ngl i don't even want to answer this so it will be in my inbox forever actually. Anyway!

YOU’RE SOBBING???? I’M SOBBING!!!! Ana… my god. These are all canon now okay. Thanks.

Touya giving prizes (food/wooden hampter DHJAH) to whoever guesses the killer/motive first… Fighting to get Touya his next favourite book…

I am also going to cry. I want to write Touya making a sweater now… don’t make me do it. I already have too many wips and now you're gonna make me want to write MORE??? Fuck you.

SHUT UP OUGHH GH You don’t know how bad it is until it’s no longer normal. When the baseline is cold, of course you’re going to think it’s perfectly fine. Until you find a fire and realise you’ve been shivering the whole time.

Touya you’re the only snow angel I need ;)

Touya’s scared he’s gonna accidentally throw a chunk of ice and kill someone.

Touya “never been sick in his life” Tenma: Why are you dying?

Akito is relegated to heater so Touya has to make soup alone and he’s freaking out but then Anhane cry when eating it and he’s like IS IT THAT BAD?? But no they’re just like… Wrow… Touya’s homemade soup… I’m cured.

Touya freezing the grass so bad it just snaps in half when they walk on it lmao. Making spiral/snowflake patterns across the grass and river. And of course. The promised ice skating.

You’re just making me want to write this entire section you know. Was this your evil plan. Bc it’s working. So well.

Touya: “I’m afraid of heights…” Akito: Your bedroom was like 20m above the ground. Touya: Do NOT remind me.

An: Can you pelt Akito with hail?

Ice shields ice shields ice shie-

Haha freeze instinct.

Thank you for the touya fainting scenarios it’s what I think about like 50% of the time. And why I want to write this. I can be trusted with fictional characters.

Ough god they love each other and have to make sure they all freaking know it.

On the couch, straight up “sleeping under it” and by “it”, haha, well, let’s just say. Blankito be upon ye

Touya not in the bed that morning and they’re all freaking out thinking he melted or smth in the night.

The best April fools prank ever actually thank u can I write this (eventually)

There appears to be a lost Victorian child asking me questions in my inbox. Of course, Victorian child, I have time.

is touya able to manipulate snow and/or any frozen water or is he just able to create it and to what extent is he able to precisely create his ice?

Later on once he has way more control he can shatter natural ice, or fling it in a direction, but he couldn’t force it into a shape or make it float in the air. He can’t do anything to snow. I suppose technically he could bc snow IS ice, but the laws of nature are irrelevant to the laws of ME. If he concentrates hard enough he could make almost anything out of his own ice, but sharper edges are easier than curves.

She can’t pick and choose btwn minerals and the components of the earth that she moves. It’s sort of just an all or nothing grab at whatever area she chooses. She can manipulate chunks of rock like a cliff face, but not in large areas. She can’t use ice. And bold of u to assume I thought these through while writing.

As far as like, winter holidays go, is there something like a celebration where they could exchange gifts? + Assuming the vsingers are gods, would their “birthdays” or anniversaries be considered holidays? Like is August 31st the most holy day of the year

I was just gonna say “generic Christmas replacement.” (Len died for your sins) But yes I like that too much. I’ll say there’s a small gift swapping at the end of the year, but Miku’s birthday is more important/the bigger celebration. HM okay wait:

The Kagamine’s birthday is actually a great replacement for Christmas. So 27/12 they do a minor gift swap in their name. Kaito 17/2 can be Day of Devotion (did not steal that from FEH. (Valentines)). Meiko 5/11 is Thanksgiving?? Harvest day?? Luka 30/1 I want to put as some Astral celebration. Like. Guaranteed star showers or smth. They eat octopus to celebrate DSJAHDHAKJ.

Ena met Kanade and Mafuyua few years after she left and lives with them. I have not thought of it beyond that tbh. I mainly just mentioned her bc I wasn’t going to pretend Akito DIDN’T have a sister. Smth smth Mafuyu is a spirit trapped/connected to a snow globe from a curse she doesn’t remember. (she was human tho) Kanade had been trying to free her. Ena accidentally stumbles upon them and sticks around bc Kanade liked her art. She doesn’t have magic. Idk if I mentioned that in the fic. Kanade can write sheet music in the air and it will just. Play. Mizutouya besties yippee. Yes please. They go to a clothing store and Touya is like. Mizuki this woman looks like Akito’s sister. “No way! Akito’s way too ugly to be related to her!” Ena whips around like did someone say AKITO?? Ruh roh. Mizuki would eventually join Ena and n25, dragging them into the connected hmds group.

Anyway you've killed me dead are you happy i'm sobbing thank you so much

#nonchalanatatall #Ana my beloved oh my god #ask #save #how to be free #gif warning #long post

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havendance · 11 months

Text

to fail, to fall, to fly away

AO3

Fandom: Batman

Featured Characters/Relationships: Helena Bertinelli & Sasha Bordeaux

Wordcount: 936

Summary:

“One day,” Helena said, “you’re either going to fail him or else you’re going to have to live with the fact you didn’t. I made my choice.” Helena Bertinelli is on her way out of Gotham when she encounters a familiar face.

The trick or treating earlier a) reminded me that this fic existed and b) got the juices flowing for it. Anyway, welcome to the latest installment of niche fics from Havendance! This is a coda of sorts to Detective Comics #763 except in an au where Helena killed the joker. Enjoy!

Fic:

Helena wasn’t stupid: she knew when it was time to get the hell out of dodge. She had plans for this: her building was shut down into hibernation, the ghosts that inhabited it still shuffling about to deter intruders, but on a fraction of the power. Things she needed were arranged to be sent on; things she didn’t were locked down. She left the lamborghini tucked away in its hidden garage. Scicily was nice this time of year, and transporting the car there would be more trouble than it was worth. Maybe later, but not now. Not when she needed to fly away.

It was evening by the time she finished. Helena left her apartment with the clothes on her back and little else. She had the absolute necessities—her costume was tucked away in a hidden pocket of her bag, money and fake ids along with it. Everything else she’d take care of as it came.

As she walked down Gotham’s dark streets, she could tell she was being watched. Someone was following her.

Helena stopped in front of the mouth of an alley. “You can come out,” she said. “I know you’re there.”

A figure dropped down. It wasn’t Batman who stepped out of the shadows. Neither was it a man without a face, or Robin (she knew it wouldn’t be Robin, not after what she’d done). Instead, it was a woman dressed in black and purple—the newest member of Batman’s vigilante set.

“Ambush Bug,” Helena said, voice deceptively light. She’d never caught the woman’s name. Now wasn’t the time to ask it.

“Huntress,” was the cool reply. So they weren’t on friendly terms this time. That was fine. Helena expected that.

“He sent you, didn’t he?” she asked.

No reply.

“I’m leaving. You can tell him that I’m getting out of his city.”

“I will,” the woman said. She didn’t move.

Helena waited. The woman didn’t say anything else. “What do you want?” Helena demanded. Always the silent treatment. It drove her crazy when Batman did it too. “Say something if you’re going to, or just leave me alone.”

She was about to turn and leave when the woman spoke: “Batman said the Joker was in police custody when you killed him.”

“So?”

“It’s not the way we do things.”

“We?” Helena scoffed. “Like I’m one of you. He’s made it perfectly clear that I’m not.”

“It was over. You didn’t need to.”

“It wasn’t. It wasn’t over until I ended it,” Helena spat out. “You haven’t been doing this long, have you?”

The woman said nothing. She had a good poker face.

“Do this long enough and you’ll see,” she continued. “It’s never over. It never ends. You put them away and they come crawling out of the woodwork later to cause problems again. I’ve spent long enough playing it his way, so I ended it mine.”

“You killed him.” She was judging her, Helena could tell. She was just the same as all the rest.

“I did what needed to be done.”

The woman was still watching, still weighing Helena up. “I can see it, what Batman told me about you.”

“And that would be?”

“That you’re dangerous, reckless. You don’t understand.”

“Oh I understand plenty,” Helena said. “I understand that there needs to be justice. I understand that there needs to be a price.”

“That you deal out.”

“We all deal it out. You wear a mask. You’re a part of this.”

She reached up, as if only just remembering it was there. “My reasons are different,” she said.

“Then what are they?” Helena asked. “Why do you put on your costume and tag along with the bat?”

“To protect,” was the answer, spoken without hesitation.

“And what if, to protect someone, you needed to kill someone else?”

“That should always be the last resort.”

A different answer than what Helena had been expecting, but an interesting one. “Then you acknowledge it’s an option.”

Silence, which was as close to a yes as she was going to get.

“One day,” Helena said, “you’re either going to fail him or else you’re going to have to live with the fact you didn’t. I made my choice.” She turned.

“Wait!” The woman said before she could walk away. “You expect me to believe that’s why you did it? You killed an unarmed man in police custody because there wasn’t another choice?”

“No,” Helena said, staring out into Gotham’s streets, still empty. The danger was over, but people were slow to come out again. She knew that hadn’t been why. It hadn’t been that at all. It had been three bullets in her gut making a final stand and a week of running around as the world went to hell. It had been finding Robin’s uniform on a skeleton and knowing she had been too late. “But that’s what I am. I’m leaving. If you know who you are, you should too. We’re not like him.”

“We’re nothing alike.” Her voice was cold, angry. “I’m in Gotham to do a job and I’m going to do it.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Helena started walking away. “None of us escape in the end.”

She didn’t look back. Down the street to where she could catch a cab and off to the airport from there.

Goodbye Gotham. Goodbye and good riddance to it all. She didn’t know if the woman was still following her and she really didn’t care. Let other people deal with Batman. She’d stopped caring what he thought. She was leaving it all behind. Maybe this time, she wouldn’t come back.

#helena bertinelli #sasha bordeaux #my fic #havendance writes #the cooler gotham antihero #carthago delenda est #dc #bats + birds + affiliated

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erimeows · 1 year

Text

Ten Years

Since his promotion to Kazekage at fifteen years old, Gaara has received a letter with a gift on the anniversary of his promotion each following year. Just like every letter of adoration he’s received since becoming Kazekage, he keeps them, but these letters are… Special. In them are very ardent confessions of love from someone who clearly knows him, but since they’re not ever addressed with a name or a location, he can’t figure out who it is.

It’s weird, too. Most of the time, he only receives these sorts of things from his admirers on special holidays like his birthday. But this one person has been writing to him for ten years, sending him things he loves like new cacti starters and special herbal teas. Each letter is increasingly intimate, too, wishing him good fortune and telling him how well he’s done for himself. Part of him likes these letters. The other part of him is just confused by them- at least until today.

It’s about to be the eleventh anniversary of his promotion to Kazekage. Gaara, who’s about to go to Konohagakure for a meeting, goes to check up on the man that Kakashi- Konoha’s most recent Hokage- sent as his escort. In the back of his mind, he’s looking forward to whatever the eleventh letter and gift will be.

Rock Lee is staying in a guest bedroom in the Kazekage compound, just a few doors down from Gaara’s personal suite. Gaara is honestly more excited to see his old friend than he should be, but then again, he figures his feelings for Lee go far beyond ‘old friend’. Since their battle with Kimimaro, his feelings have only grown and evolved into something much more romantic. Why he hasn’t acted on it- well, being Kazekage is complicated and he doesn’t want to drag Lee into it, even if he does return the sentiment, which Gaara knows he has no reason to.

But then, he checks the knob to Lee’s room and opens the door when he notices it’s unlocked. He sees the ravenette sitting at a desk writing something on paper, to which he blinks. Lee’s hobbies include training, exercising, fighting, gardening (something he picked up because of Gaara), and woodwork- all very physical things that involve you standing, moving, and being outside to some degree.

Seeing Lee sitting at the desk of his guest room is odd. Aside from the little notepad that Lee carries around and refers to as his ‘ultra secret ninja tips’, Gaara isn’t sure he’s actually seen Lee write anything. Not mission reports, not songs or poems or stories, not letters, nothing.

Lee hasn’t noticed him, so with his interest piqued, Gaara quietly sneaks behind him and looks over his shoulder. He expects to see he draft of a mission report or maybe the ‘ultra secret ninja tips’ notepad. Instead, he’s faced with a familiar stationary that makes his face burn the same shade of red as his hair.

Gaara can’t see the words Lee is writing, he’s just not close enough, and he doesn’t have his reading glasses. He does, however, recognize the silly white stationary with multi-colored leaves around the border as well as the dark green pen ink and the green envelope that sits to Lee’s left. To Lee’s right is a gift wrapped with the exact wrapping paper that Lee has apparently been using for the past ten- now eleven- years.

Gaara wants to scream. He has a million things he thinks to say- proclamations of love, yells of frustration, demands of when and why and how. All that comes out is a choked-

“So it was you the entire time.”

Lee turns around, seemingly startled by Gaara’s presence, but he doesn’t look upset. His face doesn’t drop. He doesn’t appear distressed in the way that Gaara feels like he should be considering the circumstances.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Lee asks casually.

“The letters, and the gifts,” Gaara reiterates, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. His seafoam eyes are trained on the boring hardwood floors as if they’re the most interesting thing he’s seen in his entire life. “They’ve been from you?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t know?” And that’s when Gaara realizes that he may have sorta maybe probably messed up really badly here- or, for the past decade. With the letters having very specific details about his life and promotion, the author would’ve had to have been someone who knew him, and with the gifts always fitting his tastes, the author also would’ve had to be a good friend who Gaara would divulge his interests to. Plus, rather than the usual ‘you’re hot and I love you’ letters that Gaara has grown accustomed to from his admirers, all of the ones he’s received from Lee have been very wholesome and heartfelt. Finally, with the green wrapping paper, green pen, green envelope and leaf-themed stationary… He should’ve guessed that it was Lee years ago. Apparently, even Lee thinks he should’ve known. “My handwriting is very distinct! I assumed you’d recognize it.”

“Honestly, I should’ve guessed…” Gaara sighs, a little disappointed in his own lack of deductive reasoning skills. Lee just sits in the chair, unbothered and beaming up at him. “But are you seriously telling me you confessed your love to me through letter a decade ago and you thought I just ignored it? Why would you keep talking to me after that?”

“I dunno, I just thought you weren’t ready yet or something and that you’d come to me when you were!” Lee shrugs.

Gaara isn’t sure he gets the line of thought. If Lee assumed Gaara wasn’t interested at the time, why would he continue to send letters and gifts for years after the first one was supposedly ignored?

“So you… Kept sending them even after you thought I brushed off your love confession and just… Didn’t bother addressing it with you.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing- well, aside from the fact that we could’ve been dating ten years ago,” Gaara huffs. Sure, his position is complicated, and he knows the council will throw a hissy fit about him dating a man and not producing a biological heir at some point, but he would’ve been willing to deal with that back then and is still willing to do so now if it would mean being with Lee. He always thought that Lee wasn’t interested, though, which is why he didn’t bother in fear of ruining their friendship. “It’s just… A tad overwhelming, but in hindsight, it was obvious. You are quite persistent like that.”

“Wait, you love me back!?” Lee practically cheers and stands from his chair at the desk, his pen still in hand.

With the force of how fast Lee rises up to his feet, the chair clatters to the floor and makes an obnoxiously loud noise that Lee doesn’t even bat an eye at.

“How could you not know that by now?” Gaara groans and buries his face in his hands. “Lee, for the love of God, I’m the Kazekage and I do not need an escort but every time I have to travel out of town, I request you specifically. Why do you think that is?”

“Well, I thought it was because you wanted to catch up with your old pal Rock Lee, but I guess it was a little more complicated than that!” Lee laughs, blushes, and scratches the back of his neck. “Huh, what a relief!”

“At the very least, I’m glad you return my feelings…”

A pause, and then, Gaara is leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against Lee’s lips. It’s warm and sweet, even with Gaara being anxious that he didn’t do it quite right. Lee briefly kisses him back, then pulls away to ask-

“What now?”

“If you don’t mind, could I read the letter you were planning on sending this year?” Gaara requests and points to the stationary Lee was writing on before he interrupted. “That’s it on the desk, isn’t it?”

“Oh, uh, sure! Here!”

Lee hands the letter to Gaara. And so, the two men sit on the floor of Gaara’s guest room, reading the new letter Lee has written and laughing about the ten years they wasted.

#gaalee #gaara #kazekage gaara #naruto gaara #rock lee #post-canon #set between naruto shippuden and boruto #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #naruto shippuden fanfiction #boruto #boruto fanfiction #fluff #oneshot #oneshots #drabble #drabbles

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ask-agent-rapzutin-vodello · 1 year

Note

Hmm.... hey, interns? Did you have any secret talents you never found out, other than your psychic abilities?

[Norma] That sentence ...doesn't make sense. How can we know if we have any secret talents if we never found out about them? It's just-

[Lizzie] Norma, stop being a pill about semantics and answer the question.

(Inters chuckle)

[Norma] Ugh ...secret talents ...do I have any? (Frazie leans over and whispers a suggestion in her ear) (Gives Frazie a playful push) (hushed voice) I am not telling them that.

[Frazie] Oh, c'mon, it's cute!

[Lizzie] Okay, now I'm curious.

[Norma] And you're gonna keep being curious.

[Lizzie] Compromise! How about we all start and you get the last word?

[Norma] (Pause) (Blushes as Frazie nudges her) Okay, fine. Hey, where's Raz, by the way? I just noticed he's not here.

[Frazie] He's helping Milla and Mom making dinner for tonight. By the way, you're invited too.

[Norma] Thanks.

[Lizzie] Are we done being wholesome? Let's get on with it! Oh, and Raz's hidden talent is hair styling and fashion, just gonna call that out.

[Adam] (Chuckles) I'll start. Turns out that playing around with my yo-yo's all the time made me realize that I'm actually ambidextrous.

[Sam] (Jokingly) I thought you were straight?

(Everyone chuckles)

[Adam] Har-har. No, seriously though, I didn't realize it was happening at first. I was writing something down, dropped something, switched over my pen to my other hand, grabbed the thing that had fallen on the ground and while I was checking if it wasn't broken or something; I just kept writing.

[Gisu] That's cool. When I was home for the summer, I helped out in a neighbours workshop, who is a professional woodworker. I got curious, he showed me some techniques and it seems I got a knack for woodworking. I'm thinking of making my own boards.

[Sam] I know how to do Mongolian throat singing. (Clears throat)

[Morris] Sam! Window accident? Remember?

[Sam] Oh yeah! I forgotten about that. Nevermind then.

[Morris] I know how to make mixtapes. I started making my own since last Summer, when we were in Brazil, after Espen showed me how.

[Adam] How are they, by the way?

[Morris] They're doing fine. They are thinking of coming over to America to learn business management, since they want to open a Music Label after they graduated.

[Lizzie] You guys know needle felting? That art thing where you stab at felt a million times until it becomes something? Me and Millie started doing that and I am apparently a natural at it.

[Norma] (Scoffs) Right...

[Lizzie] You don't believe me? Who do you think made that Cthulhu plushy that's menacingly looming in the corner of my room?

[Gisu] For real?

[Lizzie] For real! Okay, that leaves Frazie and Norma. Spill the beans, you two.

[Norma] (Groans)

[Frazie] (Giggling) You want me to tell them? (giggles as Norma just nods with an expression of defeat) Me and Norma have taken up a new hobby in secret a couple of months ago.

[Gisu] Hang on, is this about why you two disappear for hours sometimes?

[Adam] We just figured you two got somewhere private and ...well, got funky with each other.

[Norma] Don't ...ever use 'getting funky with each other' ever again, Adam. And it's not that!

[Gisu] Stop dancing around the issue and just tell us.

[Frazie] (Laughs) You guessed it!

[Gisu] What?

[Frazie] Dancing! Me and Norma have taken up Swing Dancing a couple of months ago and she's a natural pro at it.

[Morris] No!?

[Lizzie] For real!? Norma's got two left feet!

[Sam] Seeing is believing!

[Adam] Yeah, now you gotta show us!

[Norma] (Groans and tries to burry her face in her knees) Please stop...

[Frazie] Oh, don't be like that. You're amazing at it and we have so much fun during lessons. Our teacher says that Norma learned so quickly, she thought that Norma lied about being a total amateur.

[Norma] And she asked Frazie - pleaded, more accurately - to keep the extreme flexibility and contortionistic moves to a minimum, because she really freaked out some of the other people.

[Sam] Oh, now I gotta see this.

[Morris] I'm getting the music! (Hovers off to his room) I'm sure I got something in my collection.

[Gisu] Adam, Sam, help me clear the room. And get the camera, Raz will surely wanna see this. (Uses TK to clear the couch and table)

[Norma] Guys ...

[Frazie] (Gently takes hold of Norma's hand, looking pleadingly into her eyes) Norma, will you please dance with me? It would mean so much to me... I'll make it worth your while.

[Norma] (Blushing) Okay, fine. (Grins) But if we're gonna do this ...let's do it properly. You ...gotta wear the dress.

[Frazie] Yes! As long as you wear the suit. Let's get changed! (Grabs Norma and Drags her towards her room.)

[Norma] Be right back, guys! You better get the music ready.

[Lizzie] (Laughs) Oh, she's excited now. (Pause) Hmmm, swing dancing ...didn't Millie say she wanted to try that? (Shrugs) Oh well, you only live once. I'll text Mills about that later. (Grins) Right now, we've got a show to prepare for.

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #razputin vodello au #razputin vodello #lizzie natividad #norma natividad #gisu nerumen #sam boole #adam joseph gette #morris martinez #frazie aquato

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suekreandtheidiots · 6 months

Text

The Joy of Parenting

Location // Characters: Aberdeen // Sofia and Craig

October 2004 - Sofia and Craig talk about their oldest son.

Status/Notes: finished / I love writing these two, and I love parent couples who are still very much in love with each other after years of being together!

___

October 2004

Strong but gentle arms wrapped around her body from behind, and Sofia closed her eyes, leaning into the very familiar touch with a content smile and breathing in her husband's scent. Sun and salt water in his long hair, his favourite cologne as well as a hint of fresh wood - it was an illustrious scent she could never get enough of, even after twenty years.

"Let's go and eat out tonight, Sof, hm?" Craig murmured into her ear. Sofia could practically see his wide smile, without turning around, right in front of her inner eye.

"What?" she laughed.

"I want to take you out to dinner, dear and hard-working wife of mine."

"Where does that come from now?"

"Well, I feel much better than I did last week, I made a secret wish on my birthday… that is now not so secret anymore, mind you, and it's been ages since the last time we went out. You're always so busy saving animals-"

"He says like it's a bad thing-"

"-and I miss going out with you!"

"Well, our budget's been a bit tight after all, with all the repair work in our bathrooms, Ali's new sets of sports gear and Lance's latest school trips? Besides, we are also still saving up to support him through university." Sofia said, snuggling a little deeper into Craig's embrace, savouring the moment.

"And we always managed to put food on the table, too." Craig said. "We've always been doing just fine, Sof. I have an eye on our finances, too. You just worry too much."

"Nooo, I just prefer to keep my head out of the clouds, unlike a certain gentleman whom I happen to be very much into… despite his tendency to gloss over certain situations." she mocked, knowing that Craig would not take it personally. He never did.

"Have I ever met that bloke? Sounds like an idiot."

There we go.

"Briefly, I think. He's quite adorable, actually." Sofia giggled and lightly patted Craig's arms.

The gentle pats were their own little signal to let go of each other, any time they didn't exactly want to part but had to, and Sofia sure would have loved to lean into her husband for a little while longer, but the ice cream that was sitting at the bottom of one of the grocery bags on the counter was probably about to melt right in front of her eyes within the next few minutes and that was not at all why she had bought it.

Once Craig let go of her, she started unpacking the bags, handing him some of the items so he could store them away.

"Nah, seriously, Sof… what do you say?" Craig tried again, putting a package of spaghetti into the cupboard above him. "Hm? Just us tonight. We can drop Ali off at Finn's and, as far as I know, Lancie has plans, too."

"He does?"

"Heard him say somethin' earlier and from what I understood, he won't be home before ten or so."

"I love how he's only sixteen and just assumes that curfews are no longer a thing for him."

"He's a good kid, Sof."

"I know, I know."

Craig put away the two new boxes of Weetabix and leaned against the counter. A wide smile spread across his face. "So, what do you say? I could get a table at Humphrey's at six o'clock?"

"Hm, go on?"

"Then we should be done with dinner around eight, at the latest, and that still leaves enough time for me to get you home real quick and show you some of my finest woodwork, if you catch my drift."

Sofia groaned. "Dear god, Abbott, that's it, I'm going to hide that book about puns."

"So that's a no to my well-crafted plans?"

Sofia pursed her lips and thought about Craig's idea.

She actually had made plans to declutter her office tonight, to go through all the documents she had not had enough time to sort into their appropriate folders in the past few weeks, and after that she had looked forward to wind down in front of the TV with one of her favourite movies, "Gone With The Wind" (hence the ice cream), and go to bed early, to enjoy a night of peaceful sleep.

A date with her husband, however, with the outlook of some… woodwork, as he apparently liked to put it now, was all too tempting.

Between them both working full time and managing everyday life with two very lively sons, making room for some actual romance could be a challenge, and it really had been a while at this point. Neither Sofia nor Craig had liked that a whole lot.

Sofia decided that her office could probably wait another day or two.

"It's a yes." she smiled. "Stop referring to sex as woodwork, though, and you will get lucky tonight."

"It's a charming code word, though?" Craig hopped on the counter and made himself comfortable, snatching one of the shiny bags next to him, opening it and devouring a handful of crisps within seconds. "Any time the boysh are around and we talk about woodwork, they'd remain entirely cluelesh."

"Really?" Sofia raised an eyebrow. "Have you met your own sons?!"

"Well… at least Ali would be clueless, and he might remain so for a long time, now that his cute little mind revolves all around football."

"Let's just hope so."

Sofia sighed at the very unsettling thought of her youngest eventually growing up, too, and she had just put away a can of baked beans when another thought crossed her mind. She turned to her husband.

"So what is Lancie up to later?" she asked. "I haven't seen him all day, and, well… he never really talks to me anyway."

She did her best to make the last part sound like a casual statement, and she knew that it had never been personal either, but the way Lance felt mostly drawn to Craig still had potential to nag at her sometimes.

"I don't know, really. Think I heard him mention 'Diana', though."

"Dear god, no." Sofia let out another groan, losing composure for a second, despite trying not to, and leaning on the counter in frustration.

Next to her, her husband chuckled and helped himself to another handful of crisps. "You really don't like the little lass, eh?"

"I want to, Pooky, I really do. It's more that... I don't know, I just don't like the way she makes Lancie run after her. That's just not like him at all."

"Sof, he's sixteen. A damn teenager."

"So? Doesn't mean he can't have any standards?"

"You're cute. Do you really need me to spell out for you what he's after?"

"Craig!" Sofia moaned. "You're not helping."

"What? Most of us go through that awful phase, and trust me, it pains us more than it does you."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because you lassies know you're sweet and gorgeous, and intriguing, and that we're all into you no matter what, and you know we know it, and you can do whatever you want with that. Don't tell me you weren't a scheming little goddess at sixteen."

"I wasn't?!"

"I don't believe you at all." Craig laughed. "What I wanted to say, though... we usually come out of that phase as better, wiser people."

Sofia glanced to the side to where Craig was still sitting happily on the counter, his long legs dangling and his blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he was looking at his bag of crisps like it was his own, personal revelation. He, too, resembled a damn teenager in this very moment and it was one of the things she had always loved about her husband - life, no matter the circumstances, had never hardened him and she hoped it never would.

Her lips curled up into a smile. "Better, sure. Wiser however-"

"Hey, I managed to woo you!"

"I was young and very easy to impress." Sofia laughed.

"You were never easy to impress, Miss Thomson, I am really just that great." Craig pointed at himself with two thumbs, grinning like the gorgeous, confident fool he was, before he joined in laughing.

A few moments later, he shrugged and added: "Honestly, Sof, don't even worry. Besides, it's not like there's a whole lot that Lancie could do wrong, so let him do his thing, he'll be fine."

Sofia cocked her head.

It's not like there's a whole lot that Lancie could do wrong.

What a strange and out-of-the-blue statement that was. It sure sparked her curiosity, so she decided to address it.

"What do you mean, he can't do wrong?"

"You know what I mean. Our oldest isn't exactly set up for failure, right?"

"I don't even know how to answer that."

"Just think about it - has Lance ever done anything truly stupid? Name one thing!" Craig dared her, putting his bag of crisps away, before he jumped off the counter, proceeding to put the last few groceries to their designated places.

Sofia smirked and raised an eyebrow. "So you're tryin' to tell me that you already conveniently forgot how he snuck out to a party he wasn't allowed to go to last year?"

Her husband turned around, making a face. "Oh, that-"

"And didn't even manage to sneak back in, like he had planned? Instead he passed out drunk at some stranger's house and we called him about three hundred times, worried sick, before he gave a sign of life - the next afternoon."

Craig pressed his lips into a thin line, and he blinked. "Just, uh… name one other thing he fucked up."

Sofia laughed and gently tugged at the hem of her husband's sweater jacket. "Pooky, what are you even on about?"

"That party incident was merely a glitch, don't you think? What I'm saying is that our son is a force of nature. I'm so proud of him. I mean, he's good at everything he tries, it almost scares me."

Ah. The age old tale of the Golden Boy. Sofia looked down and bit her lip.

She had always loved how Craig had proved to be a devoted father. In spite of what everyone else had to say about their young relationship back in the days, he had done simply amazing right from the start and while there had been many voices trying to talk her out of 'settling for that silly lad', Sofia had always… known. Sure, Craig had been young, but even back then, in his very early twenties, she had sensed that hint of security about him. It was never about money, status and possessions, she could've had that plenty of times. Craig Abbott had the heart and soul that she had always looked for, to even think about starting a family. Craig had always seen her for her, and he wholeheartedly believed in the people he loved.

Sofia had always known that and not much had changed about it, but the past was the past and the present was right here, always waiting to be faced in whatever way necessary. And believing in loved ones was one thing. Putting them on a pedestal, however, was another.

"Lance is good at everything he does, that's true." Sofia nodded reluctantly and she let a few more moments pass before she went on. "And I'm beginning to wonder whether that's actually a good thing."

Craig put his hands on each side of her neck and gently caressed it with his thumbs. "That doesn't make any sense, love. How can that not be a good thing?"

"Because I'm not sure if I like the person he's becoming... because of that."

"Come on, Sof. What is that even supposed to mean?"

"Haven't you noticed how... reckless he has become? Inconsiderate? I mean... sometimes?"

"He's neither reckless nor inconsiderate, he's confident."

"Confidence is a good thing, I'd never complain about that. I don't know, Craig, it's the way he talks to his friends sometimes. His tone, his manners. Happens with Cal, mostly. You might want to listen a little closer the next time the two are talking."

Craig sighed. "I don't know... aren't you reading a bit too much into all of this?"

Sofia knew that her husband was not exactly trying to brush off her concerns or to invalidate her perception on purpose but it still angered her a little that he did not even try to think about it for a while longer, pretty much proving her point right on the spot.

"Perhaps I am." she shrugged. "I can't help but notice a little change, though. You keep encouraging him in a way that... I don't know." She sighed. "I don't know, Craig. There's just something I don't quite like about this."

"So what? Lance has figured some things out sooner than others, what's the big deal? Makes things easier for us! It's what I'm talking about after all, he's a bright one, and I still don't know how that's a bad thing."

"Because teenage years are exactly the time to fuck up. It's how we truly learn and grow. We make mistakes. We learn. We grow. All the time, on repeat. We need to experience those mistakes, to really feel the weight of them. That way, we learn how to reflect ourselves. How is Lance supposed to do that if no one is around to humble him every once in a while?"

"You want us to wear our own kid down?!"

"God, Craig, no!" Sofia groaned. "Of course not. All I want to say is… you might want to grant him a little more room to make mistakes. Because he will. He already has. Question the things he says. Look a little closer, just every once in a while."

"Who says I'm not doing that?"

"I'm not saying that it happens on purpose, but you aren't exactly- I mean, sometimes-" Sofia struggled to find the right words. "The way you talk about him sometimes, like he's already a fully fledged grown up friend of yours… it concerns me."

Craig pulled his eyebrows together and made a tiny step back. "But… why? I love him and I admire him. Why can't my son be my friend, too? How is my support wrong all of a sudden?"

"It's not wrong but… I don't know, Craig. And you know what, sometimes I can't help but ask myself whether you remember that we have another son."

"Hey, no. Just no! That's not fair, Sof." Her husband now let go of her entirely. He took another step back, crossing his arms in obvious defense, and shooting her a glance of disapproval. "You know I love Ali just as much!"

"Well, I can sure assume that, but does Ali know?"

"Sofia, what the fuck is this about? How did we go from dinner plans to me being on family trial, what did I even do?"

Sofia looked down and shook her head. Damn. That was not at all how she had meant for her concerns to come out. She made a step forward and gently squeezed her husband's upper arms and she knew she was not exactly acting reasonable right now, but acting reasonable could be so hard when the subject of debate was her children. Her still-so-very-young sons.

She had to let Craig know that this was still an eye-to-eye discussion.

"Look, I'm sorry, Pooky." she said, stroking his arms. "You are definitely not on trial, and I am not trying to hurt you here, but… sometimes I can't shake off the feeling that you're..."

Doing more harm than good. No, way too harsh. And not quite true either. Sofia pondered her choice of words carefully.

"... that you're putting Lancie in a position he is not at all ready to be in. You may see a force of nature but he is still a boy, Craig."

"Are you… are you tryin' to tell me that I love my son too much?"

"No. No, Craig, that is absolutely not what I'm trying to tell you." Sofia shook her head. "I love the way you love him, alright? I'm just a wee bit worried you might be putting more pressure on him sometimes than what is good for him, without you even realising. You know how you get carried away at times-"

"I'm not putting any pressure on him!"

"Craig-"

"It's not like I expect him to do any of the things he does? I never expected him to master "Painkiller" on the drums at only fourteen, I never expected him to do that well in school and I sure don't expect him to go to med school. It is what he wants, Sof, it's all him! He is the driving force in his own life, he has always been."

"I know that!"

"So what are we even arguing about?!"

"We're not arguing!"

"No? Because it feels like that to me!"

"We're not! I just happen to know that Lance looks up to you. He looks up to you so much, and it might not appear like that to you but he wants your approval. He wants you to think high of him. I know my son, too. He might favour you and he might not even be aware of all the things I just said, but I can see it."

"If it was me he looks up to, he would strive to become a rockstar and hedonist."

"Craig." Sofia breathed out in mild exhaustion and she rested her forehead against her husband's chest.

"The doctor thing is cool, too, though." Craig said after a few moments, offering a tone so soft now that Sofia instantly knew that she had him back on her side, right where he belonged. Craig put his arms around her once more and gently rested his head on hers. This felt good. They stood like that for a while until Sofia felt ready to speak again.

"All I want to say is… try and look behind the facade at times. Be gentle with him." she murmured. "After all, this world won't always be. He might be more fragile than both of you think."

"I am gentle with him. He doesn't care for it all that much."

"I'm not telling you to coddle him. I just- I need to be sure you have his back, even when he messes up."

"Why would you even question that?" Craig asked, unusually timid, stroking her hair while he was still gently rocking her in his arms.

"I know you think he can't do anything wrong but... just play pretend for a moment." Sofia pulled out of his embrace, not much, but just far enough so she could look up into his face. "Assume that Lance does something really stupid... will you be there for him? Will he have your unconditional love and support, even when he's not the amazing self you admire so much? Even when he makes loving him very hard?"

"Sofia-"

"I just need to know, Craig. Please."

Her husband took a deep breath, and he also took his time before he answered.

"Sofia, I will always love him, no matter what he does. And I will always be there for him, too. Even when he messes up. Even when he messes up bad. It... it hurts that I have to spell it out like that."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm having a moment. It's been quite a week, I'm letting it all out on you and I'm so sorry."

"It's all good, love, but you need to tell me what this is really about."

Sofia pondered the question. "I don't know. Sometimes I hate seeing him grow up so fast. Love it, too. But mostly hate it these days. The world is scary, and I keep wondering whether we're giving our sons enough-"

"Shhh. Hey. Our sons have great parents, trust me. They will be fine."

"Why can't I be the funny and gorgeous, happy-go-lucky half of this relationship at times?"

"Because you're perfect the way you are, and no one wants you any other way. And I get that you're thinking about these things, Sof, I really do. I think about it, too. But our sons growing up is the way things are supposed to be, and we may not always like it but neither you nor I can change it. All we can do is watch them live in the moment."

"I know." Sofia sighed. "Wow, that was one hell of a speech, I just remembered again why I love you."

"I told you I'm just that great!" Craig smirked down at her, earning himself a light punch to his upper arm but it only made him laugh and pull her a little closer again. "It'll be alright, love, Lancie still has us. And just to assure you once more - I'll be around to catch him the second he falls. I promise."

Sofia nodded. "Alright, good. I'm sorry, Pooky... can't promise it won't happen again but I'm done being a crazy mother hen for now."

"As long as you always end up telling me what's on your mind, I'm fine with you acting a little crazy at times."

Sofia let out a little laugh and gave her husband another little squeeze.

"Are we good?" Craig asked, kissing the top of her head.

"We're always good." she assured him and stood up on her toes to kiss him. "I meant what I said earlier, though."

"Hm?"

"I know you love him. Of course you do, but please make some room for Ali, too. It won't hurt. He needs his father just as much, if not more. I mean, you have already established that Lance is a force of nature so I think you can let him run free sometimes."

"That coming from you, right after your crazy mother hen meltdown?"

"Arsehole."

Craig let out a hearty laugh. "I promise I'll make room for my little Ali. Of course I will. He'll be fed up with me soon enough."

"You don't need to suffocate him?!" Sofia scoffed. "Just... pay a little attention to him, he's really sweet and entertaining, actually."

"I know he is, and now that I think of it... the prospect of having an entire lifetime of pestering both my sons to pure and utter exhaustion ahead of me... it's pretty great!"

"Oh god." Sofia groaned and rolled her eyes, but she did it with an honest smile. It felt so good to let it all out every once in a while, and another thing she loved about her husband was that he always had a way of making her feel better.

"Honestly, I live for that!" Craig added, a mischievous little spark in his eyes. "For now, though... how about we both finally enjoy the prospect of going out to dinner later?"

"Sounds great to me!"

***

#idiot writing #craig abbott #sofia abbott #sofia x craig

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odysseygame · 1 year

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Loving the characters and dynamic. I'm curious to know what Fumihito and MC's relationship was like before cheating. Like was Fumihito getting bored of MC because they were basic in the relationship or was MC neglectful in a certain aspect of their relationship or is just a power move on Fumihito's part?

Hope you don't mind if I answer this with a short story to give you more info about MC's and Fumihito's past!

---

Word count 1.3k

Trigger warnings: Verbal abuse, obsessive tendencies, Manipulation

The Ex

Before you and Fumihito were even a couple, you were the best of friends. Meeting in kindergarten and growing up together, it would be expected that you knew everything about each other. Fumi wasn't always a raging sociopath, though. When you first met him, he was a shy boy who refused to leave your side because many of the kids in your class found him too gloomy to hang around. His perky persona was not the one he'd originally subscribed to.

It was only during your high school debut that he changed his tune.

You wanted to improve your image and become more social so that your last years of general education wouldn't feel like a total bust. Everything from your hair, clothing, and personality seemed to change over the span of a summer. And the results were astounding. Many people took notice of you, and in what seemed like a blink of an eye, your social life blossomed. New friends, extracurricular activities, and even potential love interests all seemed to come out of the woodwork.

That was something Fumihito couldn't handle. With your newfound lifestyle, it seemed as though it was a matter of time before you'd forget about your friendship. Fumi doesn't remember when he came to "love" you, but he recognized he was in love when you made this change.

I use the word love loosely here because Fumi mainly sees you as a thing to own. He's more like a bratty child whose favorite toy is being played with by others. He can't stand the fact that your time is being divided amongst people who aren't him. So, to keep up with your new lifestyle, he changed his own as well. His dark brown hair soon became bleached blonde. His clothing went from raggedy yet comfortable to chic and well-fitting. Even his once reserved tone of voice took on a cheeky yet comforting tone.

Thanks to his own change, he was able to work up the courage to go from best friends to lovers.

Before he became a scumbag boyfriend, he was one of the kindest men you'd had in your life. He'd wait for you after school let out and walk you to your next destination. He'd even have dates planned for every day that he could. In fact, the only reason he'd actually leave you alone was if you told him you had something private planned with your parents (and even then he'd find a way to join you).

Toward the end of high school, you were beginning to be fed up with the constant hounding. The only reason you hadn't broken up was because your friends were so intertwined with Fumi's. A breakup would just lead to unnecessary high school drama.

The first time Fumi purposefully and knowingly manipulated you was when you received a letter from your first-choice college giving you a rejection. When you read the letter, Fumi was in your room with you, watching intently as your face dropped and your eyes began to water.

As you cried into his arms, he couldn't help but feel some semblance of victory. For the first time in a while, he felt as though the two of you were in your own little world. With you relying heavily on him to make you feel better, he got to have your undivided attention through your own actions. For weeks you stayed by his side and talked less to the friends you'd made so far. Too overwhelmed and sad for extensive social interaction.

At this point, he'd gotten it into his head that the best way to keep you by his side was to destroy your self-worth. Even after you got out of your funk, Fumihito was there to break you back down again. Your college life was less than fun with him there to make you miserable at every turn.

"Your grades aren't looking too good. Are you sure you can handle those scholarship requirements?"

"Wow, she's pretty. Don't you wish you had that kind of face?"

"Have you seen your parents' social media posts? They look like they're having the time of their lives now that the nest is empty!"

"You're going to the party wearing that? Babe, I say this because I love you, but do you think that outfit is right for you?"

Your mental health took a turn as well as your social life. Only one of your friends really stuck around (she wasn't frightened off by Fumi), but that didn't do much to motivate you to leave Fumihito's side. You noticed early on that staying by his side resulted in less negging from his end.

At a certain point, it would be obvious that leaving the relationship would be your best bet. But the thought of leaving Fumi left your stomach in knots. Especially since you'd known him for so long. The kind shy boy you once knew was gone, but the hope that he'd revert to how he once was is too great. So you took his abuse. You dealt with walking on eggshells around him. You dealt with his incessant digs at you as a person. You dealt with the stranger who you once thought was the best person in the world.

Though you could keep sane with this lifestyle for only so long. When a friend of yours asked if you'd be down to meet up for a simple night in at their place, you all but jumped at the idea of interacting with someone other than your boyfriend. Your friend even placated some of your worries by explaining that this was just quality time. Fumihito shouldn't be annoyed with you doing this. After all, you'd been putting up with his demands and he should at least show you some leniency with this.

You expected the dozens of calls and messages that flooded your phone. Even going as far as to reassure him in the beginning that you'd be home right after.

"No, you need to be home when I get there. I swear to God, you do not want to test me. You have no clue what your friend could be doing. She's trying to separate us. She's been painting me like the bad guy since the beginning. Do you really want to be around someone who talks trash about your boyfriend?"

There's a chance one more push would have gotten you to get off the bus you were on. And there was one more push. Just in the opposite direction.

"You can't follow simple directions, can you? I'm trying to prevent you from doing stupid shit, and here you are doing the opposite of what's best for you. If you're not home by the time I get back, there will be consequences."

With that, you hung up.

Who was he to tell you who you could and could not hang out with? After all that he's done to you, you deserve a respite from him. After turning off your phone to block out his possessiveness, you made your way to your friend's apartment.

It was a nice night, too. Filled with venting your emotions, great snacks, and just getting to relax for the first time in a while. It was a great brain reset, allowing you to put up with Fumihito's behavior for just a little longer.

Well, you would have, had it not been for what you walked in on at your own apartment.

The days that passed after D-day were filled with nothing but rage and blocks of texts... both coming from Fumi's end.

"I warned you there'd be consequences."

"I needed you here and you weren't."

"You can't blame me for this."

"When are you coming home?"

"We need to talk."

"Baby, I'm sorry."

"Let's forgive each other and move on."

"Come home."

"She means nothing to me."

"You're my whole world."

"Come home."

"Stop ignoring me."

"Come home."

"Please stop acting like a bitch so we can talk."

"Come back."

"I swear things will be better."

"Get your ass back here."

➡️ [Game Start]

#yandere #male yandere #otome game #obsession's odyssey #wip #x reader #Fumihito #Lore #Stories

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drk-brain · 2 years

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Wait, if we're suggesting prompts (and if your still doing 'em) can I suggest either 12 or 29?

yayaya! Listen, I'm predictable and I like "gloomy" but I'm actually gonna choose 29 (apple cider) specifically because of that. Fluff time?

help, short is hard

-------------------

By the beginning of the sixth astral moon, the Shroud bathes in dim light of autumn. Dancing canopies quake to the tune of the wind and what trees are not evergreen have dyed their leaves the decisive colors of earth, one by one to let go of their grip on the branches and bury themselves in the soil.

This is nothing novel. It is only the change of the seasons, as regular and predictable as the tide. But there is still a magic to it, and waking late to the reddish glow of a lazy sunrise hours past its due to see the woods themselves celebrating their rest and the fresh, crisp air makes every day spent here feel a little more like it could be a home.

Anora pulls the thin cotton blanket up around her shoulders as she sits, preparing to walk out of the room bleary-eyed but silent, and offer what help she can to the woodworks today. Before she can, though, she hears a knock at the door.

"Can we come in?" a soft, singsong voice calls through the door. We. Both of them, then—people who, against all better judgment, care for her. She still isn't used to that.

"Yes," she answers softly, and the door swings open.

Amelia steps quietly inside and sweeps around the edge of the bed to sit down beside her, and Anora turns her head to see Ada leaning, arms crossed, in the doorway, a soft smile painted on her face despite the dust covering her clothing head to toe.

"I brought you something," Amelia whispers, holding out a steaming mug.

Anora takes it gently, hands wrapped in the blanket to cradle the cup without burning her fingers. "Thanks," she says. "Tea?" But the scent is unlike the teas she's grown accustomed to here, though even they took some getting used to in all their earthy bitterness.

"Try it," Amelia says. "I think you'll like it."

She blows on the cup a bit and tentatively takes the tiniest of sips. It is indeed unlike the teas she'd been used to sharing with Amelia at breakfast, and even more unlike the tea she'd grown up with, steeped in boiled milk and heavily spiced.

This is spiced, but it's... Different. A flavor she can't place. Sweet, a little sour, not so far from mulled wine but—

"Apple cider," Amelia says after a moment. "From the orchard just across the way."

Apples, then. By all evidence, a common fruit, and she'd seen it plenty, but she rarely left the house since early in her recovery, and it had taken much coaxing from Ada and gentle reassurance from Amelia to get her to try much in the way of new food to begin with. So she hadn't tried one. Not yet.

After a few more hesitant sips, though, the warmth of the drink sets in and she lets the blanket drop from around her, letting her guard down just that little bit more.

To their credit, neither of the women push her to speak or to move, but after a long moment of silence, Amelia places a soft hand on her knee and squeezes.

"I hope you like it," she says and stands.

On a normal day, Anora would likely have said nothing. But she finds herself warmed in more than just body by the cider, so before they can leave and shut the door, leaving her once again to her solitude, she cuts in a quick and quiet, "Thank you. It is lovely," and turns just in time to see Ada's soft and knowing smile before the door is pulled not quite all the way shut.

It hangs there partway open for some time, and for once, instead of like a vulnerability, it feels more like an invitation.

#ana snips #ana writing #anora #wolmoms #pre-arr #please look at them i adore them #ask #ask prompt

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mistress-alexandria · 1 year

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“What does she want, then? Her titles back? Money or the crown? Revenge?” Because no Maxson ever sought out the rest of their family because they simply wanted to belong — well, no one except her.

They were speaking of Violet, the newest Maxson to magically come crawling out of the woodwork.

Ryan: He sipped his water again, turning to Alexandria “ His siblings unfortunately passed in their old age, and the only one who survived are their granddaughters they have survived with no family, no inheritance. Freeze has decided to try to make amends and invited one back. One apparently has been here all along, Fatima invited her and she was a handmaiden to her. But Violet “ he lifted the letter “ Violet, he is asking be given a title, as head of the family. “ he rubbed his knuckles together, thinking over it. “ He has a higher rank, than I do. As long as he is presently roaming, he is still head of the family himself. I want, to continue to support you in that role, but I also know because of my failures of reaching out to you, and teaching our customs and knowledge, I know this might hurt you. So, my proposal will be to give the information to your brother, and allow, per custom for him to make the final decision, on who will be the head, and seeing if possible that role can be shared. “ It seems like she desires a purpose.. nothing else. But, as much as freeze is not a good man. He also is very careful..and has always had his reasons. So I think it’s best moving forward we keep away from Ashlynn until we know more information.”

Alex: Alex wanted very much to roll her eyes at the caution about Ashlynn given her meeting with Brennen just hours before. That ship had already sailed far away. But she wasn’t going to tell Ryan that. “I would think that this Violet would be just as unaware of traditions and customs as I am given she didn’t grow up here either, so my lack of historical experience doesn’t really matter here.” She pointed out, a dangerous bite in her tone. “And given we know nothing of her, immediately making her Head if this family is the stupidest course of action.” Ah, there the bluntness was again. “You asked me to take on that roll because I’m not like the rest of this family, and perhaps she is the same, but only time will tell, so this isn’t a decision that should be made quickly or without proper information gathered.” Which is exactly what Caspian would do. He’d make a decision instantly without discovering who this woman was and where her moral compass pointed. Or what agendas she might have. “I would consider sharing it, if she proves herself to be what this family needs. But if I’m stripped of the title completely and made to obey her, then I’m telling you right now, I will leave Snow Mystic of my own choosing.” She was deadly serious. “I’ve gone through hell. I’ve done the work. No one else is telling me how to live my life or how Fallon is going to live her’s.” She had dropped Maxson from her name before, and she’d do it again. She’d do anything to protect her daughter from danger — including her own family.

Ryan: “ Alexandria” he raised his hand “ breathe, your winding up again, I can feel all of your emotions through the wall. I am here to let you know the information, and I am perfectly aware no matter what situation unfolds exactly what you will do, as my dying wish I passed the role from myself to you, as I said because he is roaming around the role is stripped from both of us, it’s important that he, and I, return to what was once.” He was already stressed about the meeting with Morgan, Alexandria full emotions was not something he could handle. “ We have no idea the education she received, she might be clueless, she might know more than she leads. But, since you are going to be married and already have a child, than please allow me to inform you you would be except from being told what to do, that’s part of the rules. It’s important though, you understand as part of the family you would be required to attend family meetings. I think you and I, will go over the exact rules later “ His eyebrows raised up high “ and, if im understanding correctly that was one of the benefits Henry chose to live in The Blackwood isles, your child would be exempt, and the only person who would have command over Henry, is Luca. It’s his region, you will have to obey Luca rules. I have faith your brother will make the right decision. I know you are coming from a place of anger and frustration, but I am asking you to have faith, and if you feel you can not trust your brother word, perhaps you need to talk to Henry before the wedding. I will be gone some day.. all you have left here is your siblings and I can not express to you the important of Caspian, Teagan and Harper. It’s up to you, and it’s up to them how you live.”

Alex: Damn straight she was angry, and she had every right to be. Complete strangers seemed to get more respect and consideration than she did, and she was tired of it. Gathering Fallon up into her arms, she rose to her feet, looking down at where Ryan sat. “I’m sorry, but I lost faith in this family a long time ago. Too much is broken and needs to be changed before we can be an actual family instead of a group of individuals who happen to be related. Restoring my faith in this family will take time.” Years, probably. Teagan was the one she felt the closest with, and they had hated each other before. Teagan likely felt the same way she did because they wanted her to give up on her child and move on. Having her own child — being a mother, Alex knew that was the worst thing to ask a woman to do. “Caspian hasn’t yet earned my trust. He’s still learning how to be a brother while still being a king, but I don’t feel comfortable entrusting my daughter’s fate or my own to him right now.” Not after the entire mess that happened on the way here to Blackwood. Caspian still had a lot to learn. “Attending meetings I am well aware of. I had already planned to do so, which is another reason we chose Aura over living in Barley or Ithilian.” Moving away entirely had certainly been an option, and still was, apparently. “Not knowing anything about her is exactly why the decision shouldn’t be made immediately.” Exactly what she had just said, no? “Caspian is not known for being level headed or logical. You and I both know that.” Hence why she didn’t trust him with this at all. “Once the decision is put in his hands he’s make it without taking the time to get to know this cousin or what she really wants from us.” Because no one came here wanting nothing than to belong. That wasn’t how the Maxson’s worked. “But you are right about one thing. I am angry, and I am frustrated. I’m tired of being a part of a family that doesn’t value me. I have titles that mean absolutely nothing to these people. I speak and no one listens.” Because the same things continued to happen over and over again. The vicious cycle that no one could break. “The four of us, we need to learn how to live and work together. Earn one another’s trust. Until then we won’t be a family. Not like we should be.”

Ryan: The nurse moved to his side, seeing how overwhelmed he was getting, as he patted her hand “ She can say what she needs to say” he answered watching as she picked her child and let out years of her anger and frustration “ I should leave you.. you can keep my cottage” he moved to stand up. “ I am sorry .. I shouldn’t have come back.” With the help of the nurse, the door was pushed open for him, as he weakly pointed to the wooden box. The nurse opened it revealing a veil “ Henry explained to me he plans to cut it for other purposes. “ the nurse would close the box, carrying it out the door. “ I have faith, someday things will be okay for you. Im sorry I am not the father you wanted. I see that nothing I can do or say, can help this situation. Your mother should walk you down the aisle, not me. That’s the person who raised you, and stood by you. “ he was handled his cane, as he moved out the door, wobbling, as he stood outside breathing in the cold air. She, was still the hardest child to be around her bluntness, her truth was overbearing, and difficult to swallow. He was sad to see how much time had passed and how she still looked at him the exact same way. Giving her this important title was his way of making amends, but seeing her anger flash out at him, knowing it wouldn’t be long until he was back in the dirt again, broke his heart. He had individual relationship with each of his children and it saddens him how torn they were with each other. He wobbled to the bench outside, trying to catch his breathe.

Alex: Of course he would run away. He was just as bad as Caspian was. Like father like son. “No, you shouldn’t have come back expecting that everything would be okay. Expecting all of us to be one big, happy family. Because we were never shown what that was supposed to look like.” The Maxsons had never been that, it seemed it started from the very beginning. The family had always been broken, from generation to generation. And no one had figured out how to mend it yet. None of them had been raised to be capable of mending the rift that had begun long before they were even born. They could learn…but that took time, patience, and trust. Two of those things were always in short supply. The other they had plenty of, but probably wouldn’t use wisely. “And because of your choices there was a lot I never got to say to you. Plenty of anger that I’ve held onto for years. Hatred that you seemed to be more a king than a father. Never finding a good balance. That you gave up your life for Harper but you wouldn’t give up your pride for me.” Harper he died for, but he couldn’t have made a far less lethal decision where her banishment was concerned. He chose to do that. Just as he could have chosen not to. That distinction spoke volumes. His decisions helped to foster the breaks between his children. If only he could see that for what it was. “If you so choose, come to my wedding, but that is going to be your decision. Not mine.” Time to see if he would even try to do better with his extra time. Because it didn’t seem like it yet. Shifting Fallon on her hip, she strode away from the cottage to go find Henry and Melody.

Malina: Malina followed behind, pausing to eye him. “Running away won’t solve anyone’s problems, Ryan. Least of all your own. Your children have things they need to get off their chest. Things they didn’t get to say before, Alexandria most of all. She wasn’t here. She didn’t get the extra time the others did. You need to show them what a family is supposed to be. Be their Father equally and without bias. You don’t have a crown on your head anymore, so you’re free to do that, but it also means dealing with everything that being a father comes with. Emotions especially.” She flashed him a supportive smile, then followed after Alexandria back into the night.

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rindecision · 2 years

Text

Chapter 17: Examination - The Devil of Hawkins - Fanfiction

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |

This chapter is unrefined (May get further editing in the future)

“What’s this about?” Jonathan asked as he got into Nancy’s car.

“Did you bring your camera?” Nancy started the car and began backing out of the driveway to Hopper’s old trailer.

“Yeah,” he held up the camera bag.

“Good,” she said quickly as she turned the car in the direction of town, and began filling him in on the details of what she’d found.

“Wait, so you think Vecna is involved in this?”

“Could be, I’d rather not overlook it just in case.”

“What-” Jonathan shook his head in confusion, “what would he want with corpses?”

Nancy swallowed, trying to shake the memory of Barb’s corpse out of her mind. She took a deep breath, “I don’t know, but who else could be doing this?”

“This town is crazy right now, who knows what freaks are coming out of the woodwork.”

“Then we end up finding a criminal in the process, but I don’t think any of this is a coincidence.”

Jonathan knew she was right, but he hoped she wasn’t.

---

Hopper sighed as he opened the door for Joyce, Will, and Argyle. “Did you really have to come over?”

Joyce glanced at him as she passed. “I want to get Will looked at,” she said firmly.

Hopper placed his hand on his forehead and rubbed his temples, closing the door. “Fine, but why did you bring Argyle along”

“I’m not leaving him alone in my house again,” Joyce added sternly.

Hopper squinted, afraid to ask what happened. “Where’s Jonathan?”

“He’s with Nancy. You said there was something you wanted to show me?” Joyce tapped his chest as she walked into the kitchen.

“Less of a something and more of a someone, and ‘want’ is the wrong word.” Hopper sat at the dining table and watched Joyce get a can of soda out of the fridge. Will sat on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck and watching Argyle sprawl out on the recliner. Argyle looked at the blanket hanging from the large overhead shelf, he attempted to swat it, but his fingers were just shy of contact. Jim continued to rub his temples. “It may freak you guys out, but El says he’s fine.”

Joyce gave him a concerned glance as she sat across from him. “What’s going on, Jim?” she said with a firm caution.

“Where is El?” Will asked looking around.

Hopper sighed. “Last I knew, they were all out back.”

“All?” Joyce questioned.

“Yeah, Steve’s here too.”

“Steve?” Will nearly laughed.

“Yeah,” Hopper said quickly, “but the main thing is Ed.”

“Who?” Joyce squinted.

“You know that guy we had a funeral for a couple weeks back?” he explained.

Will contorted his face. “You mean Eddie?”

Hopper nodded. “Well, he’s alive.”

Joyce caught herself before she snorted her soda, “Like Will?”

Hopper shook his head.

Argyle’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward in the recliner. “Woah, did he raise from the dead like a zombie?”

Hopper raised an eyebrow, “closer.”

Joyce and Will looked at each other, worried.

“To be honest, we don’t understand why or how he’s alive, it’s the main reason I wanted to get in contact with Owens.”

Joyce nodded. “Is he dangerous?”

“Not that we’ve seen, he’s acting just like himself, but his appearance is... well.” Hopper didn’t know how to explain it. He clenched his jaw, spun around in his chair, and called out the boarded window behind him, “can you guys come in?”

“Coming,” El’s voice called in from outside.

“Try not to freak out when you see him,” Hopper said, “I ended up pulling my gun on the kid when I saw... you’ll see.”

Joyce looked at him horrified and jumped when the front door opened. El and Steve entered first, Steve greeted them and leaned against a nearby wall. Eddie took a deep breath as he revealed himself to three strangers. Will’s gut dropped when he saw the same veining Billy had on his skin.

“Holy...” Joyce exclaimed quietly. She gripped her soda can tight enough to slightly buckle the aluminum as she was faced with a reminder of extracting the Mind Flayer from Will.

“Hi,” Eddie said awkwardly as he closed the door behind him, he stood in front of it, unsure of what to do with himself.

“Dude!” Argyle leaned as far to the edge of his seat as he could. “You look rad!”

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, he could tell the other two didn’t have the same opinion. El sat next to Will on the couch.

“Ed,” Hopper called casually as he stood up. Eddie looked at him with wide eyes. “This is Joyce,” Jim gestured to her, and she gave a shaky nod. “That’s Argyle,” he nodded in Argyle’s direction.

“Yeah, man.” Argyle nodded, leaning back in the recliner. Eddie smiled briefly at Argyle, he reminded him of Rick.

Hopper walked up behind Will and placed his hands on his shoulders. “And this is Will.”

Eddie nodded meekly and sat in the nearby armchair, curling his knees into his chest. “I’m Eddie,” he breathed, “nice to meet you.”

Will swallowed, he’d felt strange since they got out of the car, nothing as strong as when Vecna was active, but it felt similar. Now that he was closer to Eddie, that feeling was slightly stronger. The sound of his mom’s voice snapped him out of staring at Eddie.

“And you’re sure he’s safe?” Joyce looked between Eddie and Hopper.

“We can’t say for sure, but El hasn’t felt anything from him.” Hopper let go of Will’s shoulders. “What about you?” he asked looking down at Will.

“I- I feel something,” Will ran a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s faint, I almost didn’t notice it.” He lowered his hand and rubbed his arms. “Do-” he sighed, not enjoying recalling the memories, “do you feel anything new?” he asked Eddie.

Eddie furrowed his brows at Will’s vague question. “What do you mean?” He rested his chin on his knees.

Hopper walked back to sitting at the small table with Joyce.

“Like.” Will groaned. “Do you feel like you just... know things you didn’t before, like you’re being fed information directly into your mind?”

Eddie leaned back, lowering his legs to the ground as he thought. He tried not to be distracted by realizing Steve had moved behind him and was leaning his hands on the back of his chair. The closest thing he could think of was the vine's sonar effect. “Not really, I mean,” he sat back up and looked at the weary Will. “When I touch the vines in the Upside Down I get a sensation like you mentioned, but it only tells me where I am, like a map.”

Joyce and Hopper shared a nervous glance.

Will nodded, “I know the feeling you’re talking about, but for me, it was constant, as if I was connected to something.”

Eddie shook his head, “no, I can’t say I feel that.”

“Have you felt like something is invading your mind like you can’t fully control yourself?” Will was almost excited to be able to talk to someone who could, at least somewhat, understand what he went through.

He leaned back to think, the only time that happened was the first night with Steve, and when Henry forced him to see things that weren't there. “Not really, I felt something similar once, shortly after I came to, but nothing since.”

“What about heat?”

Eddie looked up at Steve briefly before looking at Will. “It sucks.”

Will shivered at the memory of removing the Mind Flayer from him. Joyce looked at Will, to Eddie, then turned to Hopper. “Should we try it?” she asked tentatively.

“I want to ask Owens first,” Hopper said with a sigh. “Eddie actually died, so his situation may be different.”

Joyce nodded and looked back at Eddie, who nervously shifted in his chair, bringing his knees back to his chest as everyone stared at him. Usually, he liked being the center of attention, but this attention felt closer to being called to the principal's office.

---

“Ms. Wheeler, I’m assuming?” The morgue receptionist asked as Nancy and Jonathan approached the counter.

“Yes,” she smiled.

“Gary!” the receptionist called loudly, startling Jonathan and Nancy.

The door to the back opened after a couple of seconds, and a middle-aged man looked at them. “Ah, you got here faster than I expected, come on back.” He stepped aside letting them walk past him and guided them down the viewing hall. “Usually, I’d want to keep something like this under wraps, but with the police refusing to do anything, I feel like I have no other option. I just ask, that whatever you write, please keep the names of the people involved out of it, and be respectful.

“I understand,” Nancy said, glancing around the hallway. Jonathan’s chest tightened, and he got nauseous as they passed the viewing window where he’d seen Will’s fake corpse. He looked away and followed Nancy as they entered the mortuary. It was a large, sterile medical room.

“They’ve been going missing from here?” Nancy asked as she looked around.

“Yup,” Gary walked over to a fridge door and opened it, pulling out an empty rack. “Last night there was an elderly man here.” He shook his head. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to tell the families.”

Nancy gave him a sympathetic glance as she walked up to the empty rack and Jonathan took a picture of it. The pale sheet was skewed and draped over the edge of the rack. “How many others were there?” She pulled out a notebook and started taking notes.

Gary sighed and opened three other doors and pulled out their empty racks. “Two each night,” he said plainly. “The back door is always left wide open.” He pointed to the double doors they use to bring bodies in and out. “After the first night, we had to chain it shut, but whoever is doing it, has the tools to bust a thick chain and padlock.”

Nancy contemplated in worry. “Do you have cameras?” she asked.

He shook his head. “A small town morgue like us? No.”

Nancy sighed and continued to look around. “Are there any similarities between them? Like age or sex?”

“No,” Gary closed the fridges. “They’ve all been unrelated and completely different.”

“Am I able to see their files?” Nancy asked, already knowing the answer.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, I can’t release that information.”

“I figured,” she nodded. “Did they have any similar health issues?”

Gary thought for a minute and shook his head, “No, I can’t say they did.”

Jonathan continued to take pictures as Nancy talked with Gary. Something caught his eye on the hinge of one of the fridges, it was one that had just been closed. Jonathan got closer and took a picture of the pink slime coating the hinge. “Nancy?” Jonathan said, stepping back.

She hurried over and took a deep startled breath when she saw the familiar slime.

“What on earth is that?” Gary asked as he picked up a rag and wiped it off. “Probably something the cleaning crew overlooked, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Nancy said with shuddered breath as she and Jonathan shared a worried glance. “But the cleaning crew, don’t they work overnight?”

Gary shook his head. “They come in for a couple of hours after we close up, but it’s a small place, it doesn’t take too long to clean it.”

Nancy nodded. “Thank you for your time, Gary,” she said quickly. “If anything else happens, please give me a call at the Post, and ask for me specifically.”

“Of course. Thanks for giving me the time of day.”

Nancy shook his hand with a smile and hurried out of the building, Jonathan on her tail. “What else could that have been?” she said as they reached her car.

“I-”

“Come with me,” she cut him off as her eyes landed on the funeral home across the street.

“What?” Jonathan spun and caught up to her as they walked across the road.

Nancy pointed at a camera as a bell chimed from her opening the front doors. Jonathan was able to connect the dots.

“Welcome.” The same funeral director that helped Jonathan pick out Will’s coffin, walked up and spoke softly, “how can I help you two today?”

“Hi,” Nancy said sweetly. “I’m Nancy Wheeler with the Hawkins Post, I just got done talking to Gary at the morgue. They seem to be having some break-ins, and I was wondering if I could take a look at the security footage from your camera.”

The man looked at her and sighed. “Isn’t that a job for the police?”

She frowned at him softly. “Yes, but the police have been unable to come to check it out, and I figured I could lend a hand.”

He pursed his lips. “Oh, what’s the harm, come on.” He nodded to the side and walked them down a back hallway.

“Thank you.” She smiled at Jonathan happily and followed the man. Jonathan shook his head and walked behind her.

The director showed them into a small room with a TV and took down a small stack of tapes, “These are from the last few nights.” His head perked as the door chimed. “Make sure you don’t get them mixed up, I’ll check in on you shortly.”

“Of course, thank you,” Nancy said sincerely.

She gave Jonathan a triumphant smile as she picked out the tape from the previous night and put it in the VCR. She fast-forwarded until after the janitor left for the night and slowed it down to four times speed. Something unexpected moved in the corner of the screen. She paused it, rewound it, then played it at normal speed. “There,” she paused and pointed at a humanoid shadow in the woods beside the building.

“Shit,” Jonathan said softly, “are we sure it’s not a person?”

Nancy played it, the footage kept tearing, but they could see it rise to its full height before turning the corner. “Do you know anyone that’s taller than a doorway?” she sighed. “Get a picture of it.” Jonathan did as asked and took a few shots before Nancy hit rewind on the tape. They hurried out of the building while the director was distracted by a customer.

---

“Thanks for coming by,” Hopper said as he opened the door for Sam Owens.

Sam nodded as he entered. “Got a full house I see.” He smiled at the group, and his smile broadened when his eyes landed on El, who was standing up to greet him. “I’m glad to see you got reunited.”

El smiled and walked up to him, “I am glad you are alive.”

“Me too, kiddo,” he smiled with a light laugh, patting her on the shoulder as he continued to look around, he gave Joyce a friendly nod. She smiled back from the table with a cup of coffee in her hand. He saw Steve leaning on the kitchen counter and squinted. “You look familiar,” he said contemplatively.

“Yeah,” Steve answered casually, “I was there the night of the mall fire, your men patched up my face.”

“Right!” he exclaimed cheerfully, “now I remember, your face was all swollen back then,” he raised a hand to his own face and tapped his cheek. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you. Sorry about what happened.”

Steve shrugged. “Seems run of the mill at this point.”

Owens laughed and shook his head, “Unfortunately, you aren’t wrong.” He continued to look around and lit up when he saw Will sitting on the couch, “Ah, Will, how’ve you been feeling?” He set his large bag on the coffee table as he knelt in front of Will.

“Fine, I think,” Will answered tentatively. “It feels weird being back in Hawkins.”

Sam squinted. “Weird how?”

“Like, I can still feel him.” Will rubbed his arms.

“Feel who?” Owens pressed.

“Well, before, we thought it was the, y’know, the Mind Flayer, but now we know it’s One.”

Sam nodded. “And when you say you can feel him, what do you mean?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Will thought for a minute. “You know that feeling you get when you think someone is watching you?”

“Like a paranoia?”

Will nodded. “It’s like that, but stronger.”

Sam hummed as he thought. His eyes landed on Argyle.“Ah, you must be Edward.”

“Nah, man,” Argyle laughed, “name’s Argyle.”

“Thaaat’d be me,” Eddie sighed, sitting cross-legged on the loft above Argyle.

“Oh, my.” Sam stood, and looked up at Eddie, hardly believing his eyes.

Eddie took a deep breath and jumped down, startling Argyle.

“You really are something.” Owens walked up to Eddie and shook his hand, “I’m Dr. Sam Owens.”

“Eddie,” he nodded passively.

“Well, Eddie, you’re quite the celebrity right now, aren’t you?” Owens said as he looked down at the veining on Eddie’s hand and turned it around in his own.

“Not in the way I’d hoped.” Eddie sighed, apprehensively watching Owens look at his hand.

Owens ran his thumb over one of the larger veins on the back of Eddie’s hand, watching it react as any other vein would. “Got some big aspirations?”

“Just a dumb high school band.” Eddie looked away, trying not to think about how those dreams flew out the window in a big way.

“Unless Jim’s picked up a new hobby, I can assume that’s your guitar in the corner then?” He lightly clapped his hands around Eddie’s and looked up at his face with a soft smile.

Eddie looked at his guitar out of the corner of his eye, carefully propped up next to the cold fireplace. “Yeah,” he said with a faint smile.

“I certainly hope I can be of assistance in at least figuring out how you ended up like this.” He gently guided Eddie’s chin to the side, getting a better look at his complexion. “If not finding a way to get you back to... well, you.” Eddie stood in place awkwardly as his face was examined by the plump stranger. He was particularly fascinated by Eddie’s eyes.

“That’d be nice,” Eddie said flatly.

With a nod of agreement, he got into his bag and grabbed a small flashlight. Eddie winced when the light hit his eyes. “Interesting,” Owens said softly as he turned off the flashlight. Eddie blinked the spots out of his eyes. “Mind if I get your vitals?”

Eddie shrugged. “Why not.”

Owens gestured for Eddie to sit in the armchair. With a sigh, he did, and Sam set his bag on the ground next to it. He took out a thermometer and recorded Eddie’s temperature. “Joyce,” Owens said casually, “when Will was infected, did you see any other symptoms besides what we saw at the lab?” He looked at the temperature reading and nodded with a small hum.

“Yeah,” Joyce sighed, she glanced at Eddie’s skin and looked down at her coffee. “When we removed, whatever that was, from him, he...” She pursed her lips. “His strength increased, well beyond what a thirteen-year-old boy should be capable of.”

Will held his arms and looked away, ashamed. The memory of that night was foggy at best, but he still could remember strangling his mother.

Joyce swallowed and looked up at the boarded window. She was glad Jonathan didn’t come with them. He would have the hardest time hearing this. “Then, right before that thing left him, his face was covered in the same veins he has.” She vaguely waved in the direction of Eddie, unable to look at him.

Eddie watched Owens finish getting his pulse and take out a stethoscope. He felt bad that his mere appearance was a trigger for this family’s trauma. Owens slid the stethoscope under Eddie’s vest and placed it over his heart.

“Will was not the only one that was affected,” El added.

Owens looked over at her quizzically. He thought for a second, then realized what El was talking about. “Oh, you mean ‘the flayed’ as your friends called them.”

El and Will nodded.

“Did you see any similarities between them and Eddie here?”

Will and El shared a quick glance and nodded again. Will spoke, “the veins, they were the same on Billy, when One, or The Mind Flayer, or whatever was controlling him.”

Owens looked back at Eddie, he could see the veining on his chest through the thin white shirt. “Only when he was being controlled?” He stood and walked behind Eddie, placing the scope on his back, over the vest. He was surprised when he heard what sounded like movement, almost as if someone had a hand on the other side of the fabric.

“Yes,” El confirmed. “He looked normal the rest of the time.”

“And you’re positive Eddie isn’t being controlled right now?” Owens said, cautiously removing the stethoscope from his ears and standing up. He placed a hand on Eddie’s back and lightly palpated, noticing his strange muscle structure. A small, unexpected movement under his hands, made Owens jump.

“Not that either of us can tell,” Will said pointing between himself and El. “Honestly, One’s presence has felt oddly dormant today, but what I feel from Eddie is very different from what I felt from Billy.”

Owens hummed and looked down at Eddie. “Can you take your vest off for me?”

“I don’t mind, but I’m going to warn you, it ain’t pretty back there.” Eddie slid the vest off his shoulders, smirking at Steve watching him. Steve glanced away. He set the vest on the table.

Owens looked in awe at the torn shirt and the obviously warped skin underneath it. “Your shirt too if you don’t mind.”

Eddie glanced at Steve leaning on the counter and briefly caught eyes with Joyce, he was concerned about upsetting her further with his body. He looked away and nodded, pulling the shirt off. Steve found himself unable to look, it was the first time that watching a man take off his shirt felt embarrassing. Before Eddie was able to completely remove the shirt, the room was already gasping.

“Man, that’s gnarly,” Argyle said excitedly, Eddie looked at him with an amused grin.

Joyce covered her mouth. “Oh my god,” she whispered as she saw his body coated in veins and scars. Will gawked at him, equally horrified.

“Told you.” Eddie set the shirt on top of his vest, awkwardly glancing around the room.

Owens looked at Eddie’s back in both fear and awe. “What on earth caused that?”

Eddie smirked, knowing what was going to happen. “Those... are my wings.” His smile widened at the clamor of shock and questions that ensued. He was having a hard time controlling his inner show-off.

“How are those wings?” Owens asked, gently pressing a hand on Eddie’s back. “Oh,” he exclaimed, retracting his hand quickly when he felt movement under the skin.

“They fold in there.” He peeked a corner of one of the talon-tipped spines out, so Owens could see it.

“Holy, hell.” Owens stepped back in shock.

“They’re too big to take out in here,” Eddie stated plainly. “But, if we go out back, I can show them to you.”

“Please.” Owens nodded, packing his supplies back into his bag and picking it up.

The others joined out of curiosity as they walked around the back to the picnic table. Eddie’s attention whore took over as he smirked, spun to face them, and unfurled his wings dramatically. Everyone except Steve flinched. Argyle shouted and fell on his ass. Joyce shouted as she grabbed Will and pulled him to her protectively. “See.” Eddie smiled. “Wings.” He let them relax into a cape.

Owens walked up to him and started examining the wings, asking Eddie to move them in various directions. He asked him to explain how he came back to life and Eddie summed it up to the best of his ability, starting from their plan to kill Henry. He also mentioned Steve’s dream. Owens listened as he continued to examine as much of Eddie as he could. “This is fascinating, I wish I had a full lab in order to run the proper tests. You mentioned you can climb any surface, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you mind demonstrating?”

“Sure.” Eddie retracted his wings, getting an audible cringe from Owens as he watched it happen.

“Ahaha, sick,” Argyle exclaimed.

Eddie licked the corner of his mouth and chuckled at their reactions as he walked to the wall of the cabin. He placed a hand on the log wall and effortlessly pulled himself onto it. He crawled on all fours over the wall in every direction.

“Dude, you’re like Spider-Man,” Argyle shouted, sitting at the base of a tree. Will laughed in agreement. El tilted her head, unfamiliar with the reference.

Owens watched Eddie intently. “Can you stand on the surface, or do you have to remain on your hands and knees?”

Eddie thought for a second, “I’ve never tried standing.” He crawled closer to the ground and attempted to stand, he felt off balance but was able to manage. He laughed and turned, so he was facing the roof. Out of curiosity, he decided to try jumping. As he expected, he immediately fell to the ground. He laughed at himself, “apparently I can’t jump.”

Owens smiled in amusement as Eddie got to his feet. “You likely need to keep at least one part of you on the surface in order to keep your grip.”

Eddie nodded and tucked his hands in his pockets as he tried to walk up the wall hands-free. An amused smile set on his face as he took the first few steps up the wall cautiously, he could feel the gravity pulling at him, but he was able to resist it and maintain his posture. Carefully, he stepped over the ledge of the roof and walked on top of it. He turned to face the group and held his arms out to the side, laughing triumphantly. His eyes lingered on Steve, who was smiling and shaking his head up at him, his arms folded while leaning against a tree.

“Impressive, Mr. Munson,” Owens clapped. “While you’re up there, would you mind demonstrating your flight?”

“Gladly.” He opened his wings as he hurried to the back of the roof. With a deep breath, he ran full speed to the edge and launched himself into the air with a few heavy flaps of his wings. The exclamations from the crowd felt like they gave him life as he soared over the trees.

The whole thing made Hopper uncomfortable, worried about someone seeing him. Steve dropped his arms and watched in awe, he’d never seen Eddie fly properly before. Argyle, El, and Will watched with the same dumbfounded face. Joyce didn’t know what to think and swallowed nervously, keeping a hand on Will’s shoulder. Eddie glided toward the top of the pine Steve was leaning on and clung to it, making it sway with his weight. It startled Steve enough for him to run out from under the cascade of pine needles. With a kick, he launched himself back into the air, shaking the tree violently. Eddie parachuted his wings and glided down behind Steve, startling him. He wanted to slap Steve’s ass, but something about that felt too intimate, so at the last second he aimed for his lower back instead, retracting his wings. He caught his breath and walked up to Owens. “Very impressive.” Owens smiled. “You seem worn out.”

“Flying’s harder than it looks,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“Was I imagining it or did you move exceptionally fast when you ran off the roof.”

“Yeah, did you want to see that too?” he smirked, eager to show off.

Owens smiled at Eddie’s excitement. “If you don’t mind.”

Eddie nodded and took a deep breath before running around the cabin twice, stealing Argyle’s hat on the last lap.

“Hey, not cool, man,” Argyle called after him as his hair fluttered in front of his face.

He skidded to a stop beside Owens and tossed Argyle's hat back to him.

Argyle caught the hat, “boy’s like The Flash and Spider-Man.”

“And Falcon,” Will added.

“Oh, you’re right.” Argyle put his hat on, with a face worthy of an epiphany.

Eddie laughed, taking their words as praise. Steve raised an eyebrow at them, only understanding the Spider-Man reference. Owens turned to Eddie. “And you have no idea how you got these abilities?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Any other new attributes?” Owens asked as he pressed a stethoscope to Eddie’s chest.

Eddie thought, “yeah, I’m stronger, and I think my hearing is better”

“How much stronger?” He moved the stethoscope a few inches over on Eddie’s chest. “Deep breath.”

Eddie took a slow deep breath before answering the question. “I’m not sure.” He glanced over at Steve briefly. “But I can pick up a grown man like they’re nothing.” Steve subtly looked away.

Owens took off the stethoscope and glanced around the forest. “Can you try your hand at moving that boulder?”

“Yeah,” Eddie walked over to the boulder El was practicing on earlier, but before he placed his hands on it, Owens stopped him.

“Wait, Jim, would you mind trying to move it first?”

Hopper took a deep breath, not thrilled to be used as an example to be outshone. “Fine,” he huffed, rolling up his sleeves and walking to the boulder.

“Don’t hurt your back old man,” Eddie mocked as Hopper passed him.

Jim shot him a dirty look before facing the boulder. With a strained groan, he was able to loosen the dirt around it, but not fully lift it from the ground. He stepped back and gave it one more go, this time he was able to shift it slightly. He let go, and it soundlessly settled back into its spot. “There,” he said with annoyance. He walked to the cabin wall and leaned on it.

“Thank you.” Owens nodded at Hopper. “Go ahead, Eddie.” He waved.

Eddie nodded and stretched his arms, he crouched beside the boulder and gripped it as low to the ground as he could. He heaved and lifted with his legs, rolling the boulder out of its socket. “I don’t think I can fully lift it, but I can at least do that without too much strain.”

Owens nodded and walked up to Eddie “Hmm,” he looked into Eddie’s eyes, “and you said your eyes change back to normal at times?”

Eddie nodded. “Last time it was while I was playing my guitar.”

“And before that?”

“Uh,” Eddie froze, uncertain how to put it. He leaned and whispered into Sam’s ear.

“Oh,” Sam said shocked. “Well, any other times you can think of?”

Eddie shook his head. “The only time I notice is if I’m in front of a mirror or if someone tells me.”

“So you don’t feel anything when it happens?”

He shook his head again. “Nothing.”

“I’d like to see it if you’d be willing to play your guitar for me.”

Eddie smiled. “Of course.” He ran back into the house to grab his gear. Steve was tempted to follow him out of habit but caught himself before he did.

“So, what do you think, Doc?” Hopper asked, walking up to Owens.

“Well, all things considered, he’s in perfect health, his body temperature is low.” He gestured to Will. “Like we saw with Will, but his case is definitely different. Will didn’t get any of the boons that Edward has, and Will was much more affected by it, both physically and mentally.”

Hopper squinted at Owens. “So what does that mean?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll do what I can to find out. I’d like to get him to a lab at some point, but I don’t know how I’d manage that without alerting Sullivan.”

“Did you alert him by coming here?” Hopper’s tone was threatening.

“I did my best, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

Hopper pursed his lips.

“Got it!” Eddie called as he ran around the corner. He looked between Hopper and Owens, feeling the tension. “We good?” he asked, slowly walking past them and sitting on top of the table.

“Yeah, just keep it quiet,” Hopper said, glaring at Owens.

Owens nodded and turned his attention back to Eddie, while Hopper walked next to Joyce. Owens stood beside the table, watching Eddie get his mini amp set up to his guitar and clipped it to the lower portion of the strap. “Is it going to distract you if I shine my light in your eyes?”

“I don’t know.” Eddie shrugged. “But we can try.”

Owens smiled and nodded, pleased at Eddie’s compliance. Once Eddie was situated he put the strap over his head and did a few warm-up cords before he slid into playing Powerslave by Iron Maiden. It didn’t take long before he felt himself getting into the groove of the music. Playing heavy rock and metal just felt natural to him. He did his best to ignore Owens staring at him. To help his focus without closing his eyes he looked up at Steve, or down at his guitar. He preferred Steve, though. Steve didn’t know how to handle being stared at, so he just leaned against a nearby tree and forced himself not to smile like an idiot while avoiding Eddie’s eyes. He found it harder to maintain eye contact with Eddie’s normal eyes. Steve being bashful just helped Eddie keep a hold on his goal mindset.

Hopper leaned back against the wall of the cabin, unable to watch Eddie stare at Steve. A part of him wondered if Steve was actually okay with Eddie's affection, or if he just didn’t know how to say no. Steve had always been a bit of a doormat. Joyce noticed Jim acting odd and walked up to him, continuing to watch Eddie as she spoke. “That poor boy,” she said softly.

Jim furrowed his brow in confusion. “Steve?”

Joyce recoiled and shot him a baffled glance. “What? No, Eddie. Where the hell did you get Steve from?”

“Sorry,” Hopper coughed. “I meant to say, Ed.”

Joyce sighed and rolled her eyes.

Eddie winced momentarily when Owens shined the light in his eyes, he heard Owens give a small curious exclamation and continued examining his eyes with the flashlight. He prematurely swapped to the more melodic part of the song and tried to keep his eyes locked on Steve. He licked his lips and let himself fully feel the music. He gently swayed as his hands glided over the neck of the guitar, and the satisfying feeling of the pick plucking over the strings engrossed him. The melodic part wasn’t too long and eventually, the rhythm started to pick up. He turned his attention to nothing in particular as he stood and started to shred. Owens stood back and watched as Eddie lost himself in the moment. After the crescendo of the song passed, he stopped playing and looked at Owens. “Was that enough?” Eddie asked.

“Plenty.” He nodded. “Thank you. Also, your skill is no joke. Maybe you will go somewhere with that band of yours”

Eddie smirked as Owens walked up to him and shined the light in his eyes as they slowly flooded with black. “That is indeed fascinating,” he said as he turned off the light and tucked it in his shirt pocket. He pulled a small plastic case out of his bag. “I do want to run a few tests, do you mind if I draw some blood?”

“Go for it,” Eddie said casually, setting his guitar on the table and sitting on the seat beside it, blinking the spots out of his eyes.

Owens set the plastic container next to Eddie. “Any other changes to your body that you can think of?”

Eddie thought for a minute. “Not that I’ve found.”

Owens nodded as he prepped Eddie’s arm for a blood draw. Owens shook each tube of blood gently before he set them in the case. Eddie was shocked at how many vials he was filling. “You bleeding me dry?”

Owens laughed. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen so much blood at once.” He watched him pop the 13th vial on, the vacuum sucking his blood rapidly into the tube.

“I need to be thorough, and without having a proper lab.” He put the vial in the box and took out an empty one. “I need to take what I can now and bring it to a lab instead.” He popped the vial on and continued to speak. “Will?”

“Uh, yeah?” Will responded tentatively.

Owens smoothly swapped vials. “You said what you felt from Eddie was different from what you felt with Billy, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Will started, “with Billy, I could clearly feel his intent, like I was connected to him in a way. I could feel One’s presence coming off him. But with Eddie, it’s much fainter. I can’t feel his intent, and the presence I feel coming from him only seems to be a fragment of what I felt from Billy.”

“Interesting,” Owens said softly as he drew the 25th and last vial. He held it up, examining how dark the blood was, it was borderline black. He removed the needle from Eddie’s vein and put a bandage on it, telling him to hold pressure. Eddie did as asked, feeling a little weak. “On average it takes a couple of days to fully recover from that amount of blood loss, so take it easy. Keep an eye on how you feel, I want to know how it affects you.”

Eddie nodded. “I feel weaker, that’s for damn sure.” He blinked at the dizziness.

“That’s to be expected.” He packed up the case and tucked it in his bag. “I don’t think there’s much more I can do with you at the moment, I’d say go get some rest, maybe have a big dinner.”

Eddie nodded and tried to stand, he stumbled and braced himself on the table. Steve ran up to him. “I’ll get him inside.” Steve wrapped Eddie’s arm around his shoulder, picked up the guitar, and helped guide him to the cabin door. Eddie smiled happily at the assistance and leaned on him a little more than he needed.

Hopper averted a glare as the pair passed him.

“While I’m here.” Owens turned to look at El and Will. “Shall I check in on you two as well?”

Steve stumbled Eddie through the door to the cabin and set him on the couch. “How’re you feeling?” he asked sitting next to him and setting the guitar on the table.

Eddie smiled at Steve’s concerned face. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

Steve stammered at being called out, “I-” He sighed, giving in. “Yeah, okay, I’m worried.” He smiled softly wiping a few locks of Eddie’s hair out of his face.

Eddie turned his head and kissed Steve’s palm, startling him, and getting a faint blush as he retracted his hand. “I’m going to get you something to drink,” he said quickly, getting up and hurrying into the kitchen. Eddie gazed at him with a soft smile over the back of the couch. He still couldn’t believe that he could be affectionate with Steve Harrington, even if only in private. It was easier for him to accept that he’d become an undead demon. He leaned a little further over the back of the couch as Steve bent down to grab something out of the bottom of the fridge. Steve stood up with two cans of Coke and turned to see Eddie quickly sliding back into the couch. He squinted at him and returned to sitting on the couch beside him. Steve opened the can and handed it to Eddie.

“Aw, you even opened it for me, how sweet,” Eddie teased.

“I helped with blood donors at the shelter.” Steve sighed as he opened his own. Eddie took a long drink, the sugary liquid felt rejuvenating. He sighed with relief and closed his eyes as he leaned back. Steve looked over Eddie’s bare chest. Even though he liked the look of the scars, it made him sad to know what Eddie went through to get them. Eddie took a stuttered breath as he felt Steve’s hand ghost over his side. He looked over at Steve with wide startled eyes. “Sorry,” Steve said meekly.

Eddie smiled. “Never apologize for touching me.”

Steve clenched his jaw and jabbed Eddie in the side. “Even if I do that?”

“Ow,” Eddie flinched, trying not to spill his soda. He took a quick drink and set it on the table. “You asked for it, Harrington.” He lunged forward and pinched the scars on Steve’s sides.

Steve groaned at the pain and pulled at Eddie’s hair trying to pry him off, setting his own can on the table.

“That’s just going to turn me on,” Eddie said quietly, smirking at Steve.

“God, you really are a freak.” Steve released Eddie’s hair and tried to push him away. Eddie grinned and slid his hands under Steve’s shirt, tickling his sides. Steve curled up and flexed as his lungs forced laughter, “stop,” he breathed through hitches.

“What do you say, Harrington?” Eddie continued to relentlessly tickle Steve.

Steve hitched and stuttered before he managed to get out, “please.”

Eddie laughed and stopped tickling him, his smile fell as he looked down at a flushed and panting Steve. Shit. He bit his lip as he looked down at Steve’s slightly parted in a vague smile.

Steve closed his eyes and caught his breath, “you’re an asshole.” He opened his eyes and swallowed when he noticed their position. He watched as Eddie’s eyes gradually filled with black.

Eddie was frozen in place, transfixed on Steve, locked in a battle between desire and logic. “Sorry,” he said quickly as he came to his senses and sat up.

“It’s cool,” Steve said, sitting up and grabbing his soda off the table. Eddie picked up his as well, and they looked away from each other, awkwardly drinking in silence.

Eddie perked when he heard movement outside. He grabbed his vest off the table, stood, swung the vest on, and leaned against the wall behind the TV. Steve looked at him, perplexed as the door opened, and the others walked in. Owens was the last to enter, and he turned to Eddie, “how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Eddie responded simply.

Owens saw the soda in his hand. “How’s the dizziness?”

“Almost gone.”

“Already?” Owens squinted.

Eddie nodded.

“Have you noticed any wounds or other injuries healing quickly?”

Eddie thought for a minute. “Yeah, when I first came to, I was in massive amounts of pain, but after one night’s rest, I felt generally okay.”

“Hmm.” Owens looked over Eddie’s scars. “Were those open when you woke up?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, they looked the same as they do now.”

Owens had many tests he wanted to run on Eddie, more out of pure curiosity than anything else, but was unable to do most of them without a proper lab. He turned to look at Joyce and Hopper. “Next time I come by I may bring some different equipment to try a few other tests. I’m not going to lie, at this point in time I have no idea how he got like this or why his situation is different from Will and Billy’s.” He looked back over at Eddie. “My theory is that it has something to do with Eddie being dead prior to becoming infected. If I had the facility I’d request admitting him under my care just to be safe. But not only is that out of the question,” He glanced over at El with an apologetic smile. “I’d rather not detain anyone else against their will.”

Eddie furrowed his brow, he knew he was missing something there. “Tell that to Hopper,” Eddie teased flatly.

Hopper glared at him. “That was for your own good, and the good of the rest of us.”

“Isn’t it always though?” Owens smiled coldly at Jim. “In the end, who are we to say what’s in the best interest of someone else? That’s a hard lesson to learn from experience. Don’t make my same mistake Jim.”

Jim’s glare softened as he remembered his fights with El before she ran away. Eddie tried not to show his joy at Hopper getting a scolding, even if it was a mild one.

Owens continued, “Overall I don’t see any obvious threats from Eddie, other than purely what he is capable of. He’s shown acute control of his abilities, so I’d say just keep an eye on him. If he starts showing any personality changes like Will and Billy did or anything else that just seems off, let me know immediately.”

Eddie and the others nodded in agreement. Steve cautiously spoke up, “do you think there’s any way to get Eddie back to human?” Eddie smiled at Steve’s words, flattered that he would be the first to ask about it.

Owens thought, “I’d have to run more tests, but I do have some theories. We’ll see the results of the labs and try out a few things. With Will, the shadow, or Mind Flayer as you call it, entered him while he was alive, so there was an obvious separation, and it acted like a virus. But Edward died and was brought back to life with it. I can’t tell for sure but there is a chance that whatever brought him back is the only thing keeping him alive, and by removing it, we could kill him in the process.”

Steve looked at the ground in horror, he was afraid of something like that. Joyce looked at Eddie with a pitied expression. Eddie sighed, as his worries were confirmed.

“Oh.” Owens looked back at Eddie, who perked as he continued. “El told me it was your idea to have her explore new aspects of her powers.” He smiled with a sense of pride. “I like the direction you’re going with it, and I feel pretty comfortable letting you guide her for a while. Our methods have been...” He sighed. “Too clinical. My hope is that a more human approach will develop her in ways that we could never achieve. I look forward to seeing her improvement on my next visit.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh, pleased with the praise. “Thanks, but I really didn’t do much,” he said humbly. “She came up with the idea herself.”

El shook her head. “I would not have thought of it if you did not help me.”

Eddie smiled softly at her.

“Thanks again Dr. Owens,” Joyce said with a genuine smile as Owens gathered his equipment.

He nodded as he headed toward the door. “I’ll be in contact when I examine the labs, and we can set up another meeting.”

Hopper nodded. “Sounds good.” He opened the door for Owens and closed it behind him, locking it.