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teshadraws · 2 days ago

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 72]

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The dig for Yveltal continues, and the members of Team Scarlet learn about a village tradition.

The next day dawns much the same as the one before, save for a newly-healed Samir joining their crew. Fidel sees them off with a sleepy wave and a bid to be safe.

Junie, perched on Nia’s shoulder, snorts on their way out the door. “He shouldn’t worry so much. The scariest thing we’ll see today is Soren.”

“C’mon, I don’t think Soren’s that bad,” Nia says.

Junie gives her a dry look. “No offense, Nia, but you’d think an axe murderer was redeemable.”

Tobias and Samir huff a quiet laugh.

“H-Hey! I’m not that bad, either!”

“That’s the problem,” Junie says. “You’re too good. I’m sure you saw something in Soren's aura that makes him all sympathetic or whatever, but that doesn’t mean much to the rest of us.”

She…has a point. Good intentions don’t mean much without the behavior to match. Nia pouts but doesn’t argue, pulling the straps of their new backpack down around her shoulders.

“If I had to stop being such a jerk to people before they’d give me a shot, so does he,” Tobias says casually, stretching his arms as he leads them down the icy cobblestone oath to Nico’s restaurant. Eira had told them that they could swing by the delibird's place to pick up lunch for later.

“Who says you ever stopped being a jerk?” Junie teases, fluttering onto Tobias’ shoulder.

The charmander blows a ring of smoke into her face, making her shout about him proving her point before flying back to the safety of Samir’s back. Samir gives the rookidee an amused look.

The air is frigid as ever today, and clouds have covered the sky in a thin blanket of gray. Flurries of snow drift by as their group moves through the sleepy village.

When they reach the restaurant, Nia is surprised to see a small line formed outside, leading up to a serving window near the front door. A pretty white fox Pokemon with curly, icy-blue fur atop her head is leaning out of it, laughing with one of the townspeople. She uses a paw to push a small, woven sack lunch across the counter to them.

“Thanks, Rora!" The Pokemon says. "Say hi to your mama for me."

He grabs the meal and heads off with a wave.

Oh, neat! Carnelian had explained that the Matriarch was covering their meals while they stayed here, but he didn’t mention that they have a takeout situation set up. That’s perfect.

They join the back of the line, eyeing the menu as Nia and Junie talk about fast food in the human world—

“You didn’t have Döner?!” Junie exclaims.

“No, I lived in the U.S.! I was a Wendy’s fan.”

“Oh, that’s just criminal.”

—until it’s their turn.

The fox, Rora, perks up when she sees them, standing up on what must be a stool to lean over the counter with sparkling blue eyes. “Well hellooo there, strangers! I’ve been dying to meet you.”

Nia blinks. “You have?”

“Well, yeah! I’ve lived on this mountain my entire life, and a girl gets tired of snow, snow, and more snow, y’know? Like, everyone’s nice, but I want to see an actual city! Go to the ocean! And you’re Seekers, right? So you must’ve seen it all!”

“Rora! You’re working, remember?” A voice calls from within the restaurant.

Rora rolls her eyes, and Nia realizes suddenly that this must be a younger ‘mon. A teenager, most likely, probably only a year or two behind Nia and Tobias. Probably somewhere around Junie’s age.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rora sighs. But she smiles at them. “What can we get y’all?”

“O-Oh,” Nia says. “Um. I’ll take the, uh, bannock? With berries.” Anything topped with berries seems like a safe bet.

“Sure thing, sweetie,” Rora says, giving Nia a wink that makes her flush under her fur. The fox reaches to the side to scoop a small, purple marble out of a little bucket. “And you?”

“Veggie gratin, please!” Junie chirps.

Rora nods with a hum and adds a green marble to Nia’s purple. “And you two? Wow, you’re all cute, huh?”

Tobias, who had opened his mouth to order, goes bright red. “Uh.”

Samir isn’t much better, looking like a deer in headlights.

Wow, a super-effective hit on all of them. Rora’s dangerous.

The ice type laughs. “Sorry, sorry. Mama always says I’m too forward.”

Junie grins. “No, I like it!”

“‘S fine,” Tobias mutters, looking adorably flustered as he ducks his chin into his scarf. “Uh. We’ll take the roasted root salad and the pumkin curry."

Ooh, all of those sound good. Maybe they can share their meals so they get to try a bit of each!

Rora nods, sweeping brown and orange marbles to join the others before pushing all of them off the counter to drop into a little chute. Nia hears them roll away from the window.

“It’ll be just a few minutes,” Rora says, before looking at them again with wagging tails and bright eyes. “In the meantime, can you tell me about some of the cool places you’ve been? I’m making a list of where I should visit first when I finally save up enough to go traveling!”

Nia ignores the heart-wrenching thought that if they don’t succeed in saving the world, this girl will never get the chance. Instead, Nia just smiles and says, “Sure! We actually just came back from this really cool little place called Kaleido Bay…”

No one is behind them in line, so they chat with Rora while they wait for their food, telling the young Pokemon about all the places they’ve been: Kaleido Bay, the Haven, Ghatha, Fort Asra, Shivergleam, the fields they went to for the bug swarm’s migration…

Nia’s life has really been an adventure since she woke up as a Pokemon, hasn't it? She can’t blame Rora for wanting to see more of the world for herself.

When their food is ready, packed up in a tall basket that’s nearly too large to tuck into their bag, they wave goodbye to the cheery Rora and head to the tunnel to meet up with Carnelian and Nouf.

Nia is a little surprised to see Soren there as well. While they ended the day yesterday on much better terms than they started it, she would’ve thought the lucario would've convinced his father to let him stay back today. He seems like the type that needs to stay busy.

“Good morning!” Nia calls as they approach.

“G-Good morning,” Carnelian replies with a nervous smile.

Nouf grunts, and Soren gives them a nod. While the lucario doesn’t look excited by their arrival by any means, he at least feels much less hostile. Maybe they won him over a bit yesterday.

With everyone ready to go, Carnelian guides them once more into the tunnels and the heart of the mountain. They’re quickly enveloped by darkness and the rich scent of freshly-dug soil, with Tobias’ tail flame, Nouf’s lantern, and the faint red-purple glow of the crystals in the walls as their only sources of light.

It feels like no time at all before they’re back at the end of Carnelian and Nouf’s tunnel, a wall of crystal-laden rock in front of them. The sableye stretches, cracking his knuckles before getting to work, and Nouf wastes no time joining him.

And once more, the rest of them take a seat against the wall of the tunnel to wait and keep an eye on things. Nia sits close to Tobias’ side, leeching his warmth in the cold air, and Junie flutters into Nia’s lap to nest. Soren opts to stand against the wall across from them, arms crossed.

Samir is the only one left standing, looking a little lost.

“We weren’t joking when we said you didn’t miss much,” Tobias says, a wry note in his voice. “Just sit down and keep an ear out for any sign of cave-ins.”

Samir hesitates, but does eventually fold their legs beneath themself to settle on Tobias’ other side.

“Welcome to the thrilling world of cave guarding!” Junie says.

And thrilling it is. Nia is bored out of her mind in minutes, meaning she turns to her usual method of entertaining herself in these kinds of situations: her aura.

Although…

Nia checks her aura, and is happy to see it pretty much entirely back to normal after its previous state of exhaustion.

“Hey,” Nia says, catching the others’ attention. “Do you mind if I train my aura with yours while we’re down here?"

Tobias gives her an amused look. “You want to test some of the things Soren talked about yesterday, don’t you?”

Nia gives him a sheepish shrug.

“Sure!” Junie says.

“That’s fine,” Tobias agrees, reclining back against the cave wall and closing his eyes.

“I can avoid looking at yours, Samir,” Nia assures.

Samir looks at her for a long moment, then shakes their head. They whistle a quiet, Okay.

Nia’s brows raise. “You’re…okay with me reading your aura?”

Samir looks away, as if embarrassed, but nods.

Oh. That’s a level of trust Nia hadn’t thought they’d reached yet.

Nia smiles, touched. “Thank you. Don’t worry, I won’t pry.”

Samir shrugs, still not looking at her, so Nia gets to work and scooches away from Tobias a few feet, missing his warmth immediately. But it won’t be much of a practice with distance if she’s literally touching her targets.

Junie must understand that, because she flutters out of Nia’s lap without complaint and into Tobias’ instead, making herself cozy in his warmth with a happy sigh.

Across from them, Soren watches with an unreadable expression. He doesn’t offer his own aura as a test subject, but he doesn’t scorn her exercise, either. She’ll take that as a win.

Nia settles herself, taking a few breaths to relax and closing her eyes. She thinks about what Soren talked about yesterday, and all the uses her aura could have. She’s tried most of the techniques before, but she wants to try connecting to Pokemon at a farther distance.

Nia tries to replicate what she did at the Lexym Guild, sending a bit of her aura into the threads of the world around them. She was right yesterday when she said that the pathways here are…smaller. Dried up and barely visible. Her aura goes off track almost immediately, dissipating like a puff of steam on a hot playground slide.

Nia frowns.

This is definitely going to be harder than it was at the Lexym Guild. She supposes that makes sense, though—the Lexym Guild is literally built into a giant tree. Their surroundings were teeming with life energy there, the rivers of aura lush and their currents easy to float atop.

This mountain, as expected from somewhere so barren, is like…a dried-up creek, by comparison. The pathways are still there, and life isn’t choked out completely, but the water is shallow and the current is next to nonexistent. It takes a lot more effort for Nia to traverse it. In the guild, it was like sailing down a rapid river, whereas here she’s gonna have to painstakingly paddle her way upstream.

Oh well. That’ll make her practice more difficult, but she kind of welcomes the challenge. It’ll beef her skills up faster, after all, like punching above her weight class.

So, focusing herself and trying to tune out the sounds of Carnelian’s digging and Junie and Tobias’ quiet conversation, Nia tries again.

Slowly this time, she gathers a bit of her aura and sends it down the nearest branch, navigating towards where she knows Tobias is sitting. Sure enough, in a moment, she brushes against his familiar maroon aura. It recoils for a moment, surprised, before relaxing into her touch and reaching back.

Nia smiles, twining around him for a few seconds before finding Junie’s bright orange aura and tapping it, as if to say, Tag! You’re it.

Junie’s aura flares with excitement, then playfully chases back. The two of them tussle and roll for a few moments, before Nia moves away again.

Finally, Nia brushes by Samir, their aura lighting up behind her eyes. The skiddo is…silver. As strong as steel, scuffed up from heavy hits but still unbent. Reflective like a pool of water, calm and serene.

Nia doesn’t dig deeper than that for now, instead just trying to convey a sense of fond, safe, friend to reassure Samir since they aren’t used to this. She peeks open an eye to see Samir’s posture relax ever-so-slightly.

Nia cuts off her connection and takes a breath as her aura calms.

“You found them,” Soren says, surprising Nia.

She nods, proud.

“Now find the diggers.”

Nia blinks at him.

Soren stares back. His face is impassive, but his voice is neutral. He tilts his head in the direction of Carnelian and Nouf, already out of sight as they make a sharp turn in their tunneling.

While it’s phrased as a command, Nia gets the feeling Soren is trying to help, in his own blunt way. Or he's at least curious about how much she can do.

So Nia closes her eyes and tries to do as he suggested. Once more, she gathers her aura, then feeds it into the nearest thread, moving vaguely in Carnelian and Nouf’s direction.

Nia isn’t sure if it’s because they’re farther away, or because she can’t actually see them, but she has a much harder time of it. She takes a few too many wrong turns, then backtracks, until she feels her aura straining to maintain itself.

She lets it dissipate, huffing with frustration.

“Don't just mindlessly aim for the direction you think you should go,” Soren says. “That would get you nowhere during a search. Send out feelers first to pinpoint where your target is.”

“Um…feelers?”

Soren closes his eyes. For a moment Nia thinks he’s ignoring her, fed up with her questions already, until she feels his aura brush by hers to get her attention.

Soren’s deeper blue aura circles hers, then moves down one of the threads of the world around them. Nia closes her eyes and hesitantly follows, watching as Soren’s aura…splits. Razor-thin threads of his energy spread down a hundred different pathways, as thin as gossamer, barely there. Then, a moment later, they cut themselves off and vanish, save for one. Soren pours his energy into that one, and Nia trails at his proverbial heels, surprised when they suddenly skirt past two new auras, one a soft pink and the other a stalwart brick red.

…Carnelian and Nouf?

Nia opens her eyes with a gasp. “You found them so quickly! How did you do that?”

“Sending all of your energy in one direction without knowing where you’re going means you waste both time and aura if you are wrong. Instead, split your aura to cast a…net, of sorts. Once something catches your attention, you can follow it to its origin point.”

Huh. That reminds Nia of what she learned from Xander about tracking a scent with her nose. Breathing in deep until you catch a scent, finding its trail, and following it to its source.

“Doesn’t that tire you out, though?” Nia asks. “Spreading your aura so wide?”

“Less so than blindly searching and having to backtrack,” Soren says. He watches her expectantly.

Right. Her turn.

Nia takes a deep, grounding breath, then closes her eyes. She can sense Soren’s aura still hovering nearby, watching.

Nia tries to do as he showed her, not pouring all of her aura out in one big burst, but instead sending a trickle down multiple threads. Almost immediately, she loses track of which one is where, her confusion tangling the threads and making her lose concentration until her aura peters out.

Nia huffs.

“Don't think about it so much,” Soren says. Ugh, those words sound familiar. She had a problem with overthinking while battle training too, didn’t she? “You should not be directing your aura. You’re simply sending it down the pathways and covering ground until something catches your attention."

So it's kind of like…moving her hands through murky water. She shouldn’t be purposefully trying to seek out any objects hidden underneath with her eyes, but just…feeling, until she bumps into something. Like a spider feeling the vibrations of a struggling fly in its web and following those back to its catch.

“Okay,” Nia breathes.

She tries again, sending her aura out in thin threads. Some of them wash over Soren, Tobias, Junie, and Samir, but she ignores them this time around. She continues to cast her aura thin and wide, further and further, pushing her control to the limits until—

Faintly, she senses the unfamiliar auras from before. As if hearing a voice in the distance and knowing vaguely which direction it’s coming from.

With that in mind, Nia cuts off all the other threads, then sends a larger burst of aura down the pathway where she sensed the disturbance, homing in on it.

There! She brushes by Carnelian and Nouf, and their auras light up behind her eyes.

“I found them!” Nia says, triumphant, as she cuts off her aura and opens her eyes. She’s panting, and her heart is beating fast, but she did it!

Soren meets her excitement with a satisfied nod. “You did.”

“No idea what you did, but good job!” Junie says.

Nia laughs. “I’m learning to find people and connect to their aura from a distance!”

Tobias’ brows raise, visibly impressed. “How far can you go?”

Nia hesitates, then looks at Soren.

“Practice will increase your range over time,” Soren says. “Theoretically, there is no limit. You could connect with someone on the other side of the planet, though that would require much more aura than you or I will ever have.”

“Wow,” Nia breathes. “And that’s how you communicate with your pack, right? Across the village?”

Soren hesitates for only a moment, then nods. “If you are close with someone, or at least familiar with their aura, it is easier to connect to them, even from a distance. Familiarity creates a sort of…magnetism between souls.”

“So if you practiced enough and had enough energy, you could like…talk to Maggie from way up here?” Tobias asks, bewildered.

“Like a cell phone!” Junie chirps.

Nia hums. “I think it’d be less like a conversation on a phone and probably more like…exchanging feelings, right? When I last practiced with Val and Avery, it was more like I was hearing the intent and emotions in someone's aura rather than actual words. And I think it’d be even harder to be specific from a distance.”

Soren nods. “Psychic types tend to speak in words, but our aura is based in emotion. Intent.“

Intent. Right. It’s like how Nia decides whether to make her aura intangible or physical, and whether to make it into a club or shield. Aura is pure energy, and Nia is in charge of what it does.

“So if intent decides how aura forms,” Nia muses. “How would I transfer energy like you mentioned earlier?”

“A healing move would be helpful with how often you guys get beat up,” Junie teases.

Tobias and Samir snort in unison. They're really on the same wavelength today.

“Riolu cannot channel energy for healing,” Soren says.

“Like how I couldn’t do aura readings?” Nia asks, her voice light but challenging.

To Nia’s surprise, Soren doesn’t bristle in response, simply shaking his head. “Riolu cannot typically achieve an aura reading without years of training, but it is possible. Healing moves, however, are impossible until evolution. Your biology isn’t built to convert energy in such a way.”

Nia frowns, glancing at Tobias and Samir as if to verify the lucario’s words. Tobias shrugs in response. “But…why wouldn’t I be able to do it now if I should be able to do it after evolving?”

“Perhaps as a defensive measure. When evolution was still possible, riolu typically evolved during childhood, since our evolution depends on an affection bond rather than battle experience or exposure to a particular item. However, getting carried away with healing as a child can deplete such a small Pokémon’s limited energy reserves. Sometimes to a dangerous degree.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that before,” Tobias says thoughtfully. “Maggie mentioned it happening to one of her patients once. I think it was a cleffa that kept healing her friends while they were battling, and she pushed herself too much and fainted. Her parents were pretty worried, but she just needed to rest to recover.”

Soren nods. “Aura exhaustion. Common for young healers.”

Nia frowns, looking down at her paw. “Healing powers would be awfully convenient, though. Are you sure I can’t do it?”

For a long moment, Soren looks at her. “You can try, but don’t be disappointed when it does not work.”

“I bet you ten poké Nia somehow pulls it off,” Junie whispers to Samir.

Soren pointedly ignores her. “Use my aura as your test subject. I don’t want to risk you harming anyone else.”

Nia snaps her head up to look at the lucario, alarmed. “W-What?! Harm?”

“You are trying to inject aura directly into another Pokémon’s life force,” Soren says drily. “While intent to heal should keep you from causing any harm, surely you can see why I am being cautious.”

Nia’s face isn’t sure whether it wants to heat with embarrassment or pale with unease. When he puts it like that…

Soren sighs. “You will not hurt me because I will not allow you to do so. I can see you will insist on exploring this avenue if you do not explore it now, so go on.”

Junie snorts and whispers, “Okay, he got you there.”

Nia feels much less certain about the exercise now, but she also knows Soren is right and her curiosity will make her want to try eventually. So she closes her eyes and conjures her aura, tentatively approaching Soren’s soul.

“What do I do to heal?” Nia whispers.

Soren doesn’t respond, but his aura reaches out to brush over hers. She feels him leave energy behind to soak into her own, adding to her aura in a way that feels strange. Like…eating an oran berry and feeling her energy replenish. Or maybe like a burst of caffeine entering her system after chugging some coffee. Nia hasn’t been injured today, to her knowledge, but maybe even the regular wear and tear of just living can be mended by healing moves.

Okay, Nia, focus. Healing time.

Nia tries to do the same thing Soren did, sending a bit of her energy at his with the intent to add it to his own. Hers, however, just sort of…slides off before dissipating. Like oil and water trying to mix. Nia frowns and tries again, to no avail.

“In using a healing move, you are converting your energy to a more…universal state that can be accepted by anyone,” Soren says. “Riolu bodies are not accustomed to such a task.”

Nia wants to argue and say that she can do it if she just tries, but after giving the process a few more goes, she has to stop, releasing her aura to find herself panting hard, her heart pounding in her chest.

She couldn’t do it. She feels a bit embarrassed by Tobias, Samir, and Junie’s eyes on her.

Soren, however, just grunts. “There is no reason to be ashamed. All Pokemon are built differently. Charmander can breathe flames. Skiddo can use the vines and leaves that grow on their bodies. Rookidee are built small and light to achieve agile flight. Riolu are simply not built for healing. It's just how you are made.”

Oh. That brings up another question, though, one that has haunted Nia since she first showed up in this world. She didn’t think about it until now, but she has the perfect Pokemon to ask right in front of her.

Even if it is sort of embarrassing to bring up right after failing something else.

“Okay, I get why I can’t do healing moves,” Nia says, making herself look up at Soren, “Sort of. But, uh. Do you have any idea why I wouldn’t be able to use other types of move energy?”

There’s a long stretch of silence as everyone’s eyes go to the lucario. Soren stares back at Nia, his brow slowly furrowing.

“…You cannot use other types of move energy?”

Nia cringes. “Um. No?”

“Only normal type moves,” Tobias clarifies. “I’ve never seen her use a fighting type move. Val couldn’t figure it out, either.”

Soren continues looking at Nia like she is a particularly strange insect that has crawled into his home. She fidgets under his gaze.

“So...no guesses?” Nia asks.

Soren sighs. “As far as I can tell, you are physically a normal riolu, despite your abnormal aura control. You should possess the ability to use fighting type moves at the very least, so it likely comes back around to intent.”

Intent? But how can that be the case if Nia's intent is to use a fighting type move?

“Didn’t you say something about not wanting to be a fighting type ‘mon when you first showed up in this world?” Tobias asks, squinting at Nia. “Because you ‘don’t like fighting’ or something?”

Nia blinks. “Did I? But surely that didn’t like…change my biology or something.”

“No, but it likely explains what is happening,” Soren says, catching their attention again. “You are holding yourself back.”

Nia stares. “What?”

“If you see fighting type energy as particularly…dangerous, or violent, then you could be restraining yourself from accessing that type energy, even subconsciously.”

“I dunno if she’s restraining herself from violence,” Junie says, humor in her voice. “I’ve seen her punch a seviper in the face.”

Samir nods sagely.

Soren tilts his head. "In self-defense?”

Nia frowns. “Pretty much all of my fighting is because I’m either sparring or defending myself or someone else. I never just…attack someone because I want to or anything.”

“Then it is likely a mental block,” Soren confirms. “Some part of you sees fighting type energy as too dangerous to use on someone else, so you withhold it.”

“Even when I don’t want to?” Nia whines.

Soren shrugs, as if to say, You tell me. “I cannot unlock the chains you have placed onto yourself, Riolu."

Helpful. But at least Nia has an idea of why she can’t use other kinds of move energy now, even if the answer feels kind of silly since she’s apparently the one to blame.

Nia sighs. “So I still can’t use fighting type energy and I can’t use healing moves. I guess it’s not all that useful for me to learn how to transfer energy then, huh?”

Soren tilts his head. “l…wouldn’t say that. While you likely cannot use an energy transfer move that you see as violent, such as drain punch, you still need to practice your aura control to be able to navigate pathways and make connections from a distance, if you do desire such a skill.”

Nia perks up. Having the equivalent of an emotional cell phone to connect to the aura of others sounds pretty useful, even if Soren says that she won’t be able to go too far with her own small pool of life energy.

“I do!”

“Then I see no reason why you should not continue to practice.”

So Nia does. Over the next few hours, while Carnelian and Nouf continue to dig and Tobias and Junie talk, Nia pours her time and energy into following Soren’s intermittent coaching. She sends her aura out in webs to find Nouf and Carnelian, over and over, and eventually even gets up to go back the way they came so she can find her own team’s auras from a distance. She brushes by them with a gentle touch before rounding back and doing it again. Like laps, or repetitions in a workout.

Nia is exhausted by the end of the day and has to stumble her way out of the mountain leaning on a worried Tobias, but she feels accomplished, too.

—————————————————————————————

Fidel is nearly back to full health by the next morning, but between Eira’s cautious attitude and Nia and the others assuring the zoroark that he’s really not missing much down in the tunnels, Fidel reluctantly allows himself one more day of rest at the guest lodgings, leaving digger guard duty to Team Scarlet once again.

They stop by Nico's restaurant again on the way out to grab lunch, joining the small line that has formed there. Ahead of them, a large blue seal Pokemon with long white whiskers is comfortably settled into the snow. Atop her head, a gorgeous, giant white moth with crystalline wings is perched. The two women are talking happily with each other, and the energy in the seal's voice catches Nia’s attention.

“Eirwen said she’s finally ready to perform that new song she’s been working on!”

The moth Pokemon hums, sounding pleased. “It has been a while since we’ve had a new melody to dance to. I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

“Mhm. The festivals wouldn’t be the same without her spicing them up every now and then!”

“A festival?” Nia can’t help asking.

The two ‘mon look behind them, surprised, and for a moment Nia is worried they’ll snub her question since she's an outsider. An eavesdropping outsider at that. But to her delight, the seal Pokémon’s face lights up.

“Oh, you’re the travelers!” The seal says, her whiskers twitching. “We heard that you helped out Lumi with her sled yesterday. Thank you. Her boy’s had a cold for a few days now, and we’re always saying that she needs to ask for help when she’s on her own but she’s so stubborn for someone so shy and—"

The moth Pokemon taps the seal’s head with a tiny foot that was previously hidden in her fluff.

“Oh, sorry!” The seal laughs. “Anyways, thank you. I know we aren’t always the most welcoming bunch to strangers, but Rora talked about how sweet all of you are.”

Nia blinks, her ears burning as she glances past the two Pokemon to where Rora is finishing up the order of the Pokemon in front of them: a penguin with an…ice cube for a head?

“O-Oh. Um, it’s no problem!” Nia says, smiling. “We’re happy to help.”

“What were you saying about a festival?” Junie asks.

“It’s not exactly a festival, per se,” the moth Pokemon says, her voice as delicate as her gossamer wings. Still, her tone is friendly enough. “More of a…small gathering for the village.”

“Yup!” The seal Pokemon says. “We do celebrate the usual holidays—winter births and all that—but this is just our monthly celebration."

“A celebration for what?” Tobias asks, brow furrowed.

“The Matriarch started the tradition a few years ago,” the moth Pokemon says, looking thoughtfully towards the head of the village. “I believe it’s to keep morale high during these troubled times. It gives us all something to look forward to, and a chance to bond and forget our problems for a night.”

“I think the Matriarch just wanted an excuse to throw a party every month,” the seal says jovially, giving them a wink. “But it’s all the same to me, as long as I get to dance.”

“So there’s music?” Nia asks.

“Yes!” The seal Pokemon says, doing an excited little flop that jostles the moth atop her head. “A few ‘mon perform for the village. We all dance around the bonfire and chat and enjoy a big meal together. You should come!”

Nia exchanges a surprised look with Tobias and Samir.

“We’re invited?” Tobias asks doubtfully.

The seal Pokemon laughs. “I think Rora would throw a fit if you weren’t there, and you’ve been nothing but polite since you’ve been here. Why not? I’m sure Eira and Carnelian would want you to come, too.”

“When is this shindig?” Junie asks eagerly.

“Tonight,” the moth Pokemon says.

“So don’t wear yourselves out too much today, all right?” The seal says playfully.

Before Nia or the others can respond, the muted thump of a little paw smacking on wood catches their attention.

“C’mon, ladies, I don’t have all day!” Rora calls playfully.

The seal barks a laugh and scoots up to the counter. “I know for a fact that you do, little flurry!”

While the two ‘mon in front of them order, Junie leans forward from her place on Nia’s shoulder to catch her attention. “So we’re totally going to that party tonight, yeah?”

“You mean the ‘small gathering,’” Tobias drawls.

Junie waves him off. “Psh. A party’s a party, and I wanna check it out! C’mon, we’ve been invited, so why not?”

Tobias and Samir exchange a reluctant look. Nia isn’t always a person who enjoys big parties herself, but she thinks they could use a bit of fun and festivity to balance out all the doom and gloom they’ve had to deal with recently. And Junie’s excitement is bringing to mind something from her human life: vague memories of her best friend Toni dragging her out to socialize. It makes Nia feel oddly nostalgic—and Nia did usually have fun once she went...

Mind made up, Nia turns to Tobias and Samir with puppy dog eyes to match Junie’s own.

“You two can go,” Tobias says. “Just don’t stay out too late so you’re ready to go tomorrow morning.”

Nia’s ears droop, disappointment hitting her harder than she expects. “You aren’t gonna come?”

“Yeah, c’mon! You need to loosen up more than anyone!” Junie crows.

“I’m not exactly a party Pokemon,” Tobias snarks, crossing his arms. At his side, Samir nods in agreement.

“They said there would be music, right?” Nia says hopefully. “Aren’t you curious to see how the music here is different from what you’re used to?”

Nia sees Tobias’ interest pique at that, though he’s clearly not sold.

“Could you just come for a little while?” Nia presses. “You can go back to the lodge as soon as you’re tired of it, and Junie and I won’t stop you.”

Tobias sighs. “Why does it matter so much if I’m there or not? You’ll have each other, right?"

“Yeah, but…” Nia trails off.

She pictures herself at the celebration with Junie and the villagers, dancing and having fun. She loves Junie, but the thought of being there without Tobias still makes her feel a little…lonely. She’s just happier when Tobias is with her, experiencing the world at her side. Even if it’s just for a little while.

“It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Nia says. Then, her face heats and she hurries to add to Samir, “Both of you. It’s more fun when we’re all together, right?”

Tobias and Samir look at each other again, their resolve faltering.

Finally, Tobias sighs. “Fine. I’ll come for a little while.”

Nia’s tail wags as Junie gives a little cheer. As one, they look at Samir.

The skiddo leans away, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. But after a long moment, they sigh and tilt their head at Tobias, as if to say, Same.

Nia joins Junie’s cheer this time, thrilled that she’ll have all of her friends with her tonight to experience the festivities.

“Ooh, what’s got you all so excited?”

Nia grins as she turns to Rora. They’ve reached the front of the line, and the vulpix is nearly hanging out the window, ears pricked and tails wagging.

“We’re excited about the party tonight!”

Rora’s blue eyes shine. “You’re going?! Oh, awesome! I’ll show you all of the best dances.”

The lightness in Nia’s chest buoys her all the way to the cave entrance, where they meet up again with Soren, Nouf, and Carnelian. She’s practically skipping across the snow, and she has to explain why she and Junie are so hyped when Soren gives them an irritated look, probably annoyed by the excitable energy their auras are putting off.

Carnelian, however, seems just as pleased as Rora that they’d been invited to join the festivities. Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable extending an invitation himself since he’s only been here for a few weeks? Eira, too, likely didn’t want to vouch for a whole group of strangers right after bringing Carnelian in.

Nia and Junie finally calm down by time they make it back to the dig site.

With this now being their third day down in the tunnels with little to do, Tobias has apparently reached the end of his rope with just sitting in the dark. It only takes a few minutes for him to get up and declare that he’s going to train too since he might as well do something down here, and Samir quickly joins him.

The two of them jog up and down the length of the tunnel, doing push-ups and other exercises between each lap. Eventually, the two ‘mon even start sparring, keeping their attacks to regular hits so they don’t cause damage to the tunnel structure with any moves.

Soren, notably, moves to watch them, trying look uninterested despite the way he physically has to relocate to get a closer look.

Guess even he gets bored eventually.

Nia follows their lead and continues to use her aura to navigate the pathways around them. She’s getting better at connecting to others from afar, locating Tobias and Samir farther down the tunnel and watching with interest as their auras flare and dim with bursts of exertion.

Junie sits on Nia’s lap and occasionally calls out to heckle Tobias and Samir when they pass by during their laps, teasing them about their speed or telling them to pick up their feet like a cranky gym teacher. When Tobias calls her out for criticizing them when she’s doing absolutely nothing, Junie hops down half the length of the tunnel on her tiny legs before giving up and returning to collapse into Nia’s lap.

Nia, who needed a break of her own anyways, releases her aura and smiles down at the little bird. “You good?”

“No,” Junie groans. She rolls over onto her back, splaying her wings wide. “I feel like such a wimp compared to all of you.”

Nia pokes her adorable little bird foot. “Well, you do literally have chicken legs.”

It’s the funny phrase that makes Nia remember.

“Oh!” she straightens up. “Junie, can you try something with me real quick?”

“As long as I don’t have to move,” Junie mumbles.

“You don’t. You remember when we first met the Matriarch, and she and Soren started talking in another language? You couldn’t understand them either, right?”

Junie rolls her head to look up at Nia. “No, I couldn’t. Why?”

“That made me think about what we realized in Ghatha! That we were speaking two different languages—well, three counting Ordirune—but still understanding each other just fine. Right?”

Junie frowns, but nods. “Yeah? I’m speaking German, but you said you’re speaking English, right?”

Nia nods. “Mhm! Tobias said that we’re both speaking Ordirune, though, so he thinks that Mew changed our brains so that we sort of…automatically translate our own languages into Ordirune when we speak, and hear others in our language even though they're speaking Ordirune. But not being able to understand Soren and the Matriarch made me wonder if we can still speak our own languages, too.”

“Huh.” Junie blinks. “You mean…avoiding that automatic translation thing so that other Pokemon would hear a foreign language?”

Nia nods. “Right! Want to try it with me?”

“I mean…sure? But I’ve been speaking German, and it still comes out Ordirune. So how do we fix that?”

Good question. Although, if it’s anything like aura…

“Maybe it’s a matter of…intent,” Nia says slowly. “Like, rather than just thinking, ‘I'm hungry,’ and saying it, you really focus on forming the words themselves.”

“Huh. Well, go on. Give it a go.”

Nia nods, opening and closing her mouth a few times as she tries to figure out where to start.

Nia had taken some Spanish classes in high school, and this sort of feels like how it felt to learn another language then. Consciously thinking of the correct words and sentence structure and molding her mouth to the syllables as she works through them.

Slowly, she tries it. “I…am hungry.”

Junie’s eyes light up. “Okay, my English is a bit shaky, but that was definitely different than Ordirune. Let me try.”

The little bird sits up, her face scrunching with concentration. Then slowly, stumbling, she says, “Ich...habe Hunger.”

Nia beams. “I didn’t understand a word you just said!”

“Klasse!” Junie laughs, hopping up.

“Success!” Nia cheers in the same tone, pumping her fists. “So that must mean it’s not really an automatic translator, then. More like...the knowledge of Ordirune was so strongly implanted into our minds that it feels more natural to default to that language than to our own native tongues. That is fascinating.”

“Okay, nerd.”

“What? You can’t say this isn’t interesting!”

“It’s kinda cool.”

“It’s very cool!”

“What’s cool?” Tobias asks, coming over to them.

He’s breathing hard after his latest spar with Samir, and immediately crouches to rummage through their pack. Probably looking for some hydration berries to refresh.

“We can still speak in our human languages!” Nia says excitedly. “It just takes a bit more focus than before.”

“Huh.” To Nia’s surprise, Tobias pulls out their water flask. Though she understands when he pulls out a bowl and pours some water into it, setting it down next to Samir.

Samir settles heavily on the cold ground, hesitating briefly before bending their head to lap at the water. Nia tries to look natural as she averts her eyes. Samir always seems weirdly embarrassed to drink in front of them. Maybe they used to use their vines to hold a flask like Nia and Tobias? It would feel weirdly humiliating to have to drink from a bowl after drinking with her hands her whole life.

Junie, on the other hand, has no shame despite her human roots. She hops to the skiddo’s side and dunks her beak to grab quick mouthfuls of water, like a songbird at a bird bath. She splashes Samir in the process, and the skiddo gives her an annoyed look.

Tobias sits too, handing the flask over to Nia to take a sip as he pops a hydration berry into his own mouth. “Say something in, uh…in your language, then.”

“Oh!” Junie pulls her wet face away from the bowl. “Hey, Tobias, you know what you are? Eine liebestolle echse.”

Tobias frowns, looking at Nia. “What did she say?”

Nia laughs and shrugs. “I have no idea. I don’t speak German. But I’m sure it wasn’t flattering.”

Junie smirks before going back to her water.

“You didn’t even do that much,” Tobias grumbles. “Stop drinking so much water.”

“Hey, that’s a long way to run for such little legs,” Nia says in English, her words still awkward and slow.

Junie laughs. “You’ve got that right!”

Tobias blinks at Nia. “Whoa. That is kind of cool.”

“Isn’t it?!”

This routine continues for hours, with their training interrupted only by lunch, short breaks to catch their breath, and moments every half hour or so where they have to get up and move forward to keep up with Carnelian and Nouf’s digging.

Nia asks Soren about the festivities planned for tonight during one of her breaks, and to her surprise the lucario doesn’t immediately brush her off. Instead, he confirms that many of his pack members will likely attend.

“Wait, you’re saying you guys actually have fun sometimes?” Junie says, only half-teasing.

Soren pinches at the skin between his eyes. “My pack does have friends in the village they like to spend time with, Rookidee. And it’s…good. For them to relax every once in a while.”

“Including you?” Nia asks, genuinely curious.

To her surprise, Soren almost seems…embarrassed. He looks away. “...The music is composed well. And the food is excellent.”

Junie whistles. “Wow, so you do know how to enjoy things!”

Nia gently clamps the little bird’s beak shut with her fingers. Soren’s being vulnerable here—she doesn’t want to immediately push him back into his shell!

“I’m excited to check it out!” Nia says brightly. “I know Tobias is excited about the music, too. What kind of instruments do they—"

Nia is interrupted as the sound of digging further down the tunnel suddenly grows loud, rocks clattering as something in the cave collapses.

Nia’s heart drops, her head whipping around as if she could see what just happened around the corner. What was that? A cave-in?

Soren is already pushing off the wall and running towards the diggers, and Nia hurries to follow, Junie fluttering to her shoulder while Nia gets her stiff legs under her.

“Tobias! Samir!” Nia yells over her shoulder. “Get down here!”

She runs for the end of the tunnel, expecting to see a pile of rubble and Soren rushing to dig Carnelian and Nouf out.

Instead, she staggers to a stop once she rounds the bend, surprised but relieved to see the sableye and piloswine are safe and sound. Soren is already at their side, his shoulders tense.

Behind them, the cave wall where Carnelian and Nouf had been digging hasn’t caved in, but instead opened up into a pre-existing tunnel. Through the narrow opening, the previously faint purple-red glow of the crystals intensifies, glowing as if lit by neon lights. It’s almost enough to hurt Nia’s eyes after the previous dimness of the tunnels.

However, Nia doesn’t think that’s why Soren is staring at the entrance like a maw full of teeth as the fur prickles on her arms and neck. No, there's something deeply wrong in the air suddenly. In the aura around them. Whereas the pathways of the world had been narrow and dried up before, the tunnel ahead feels…completely empty. Like a void.

“What’s wrong?” Tobias pants as he and Samir come running up behind Nia. The two of them stop as they too catch sight of the opening, glowing like a warning sign.

“Is that..?” Tobias whispers.

Nia nods. It has to be.

“Yveltal’s resting place,” Soren confirms, his voice hushed.

Nouf is silent as usual, but Carnelian looks unnerved by the tension in the air, wringing his claws and looking between all of them.

“W-What now?” The sableye asks.

“We have to confirm that Yveltal is inside,” Soren says. He moves to take the lead. “I can check. Stay here.”

“You are not going in there on your own,” Nia says, still staring at the gap. It feels like if she looks away, it’ll lunge and swallow her whole. “We came down here as a group for a reason.”

Soren glares at her. “I cannot guarantee your safety if you follow me.”

Tobias steps up to Nia’s side. “Duh. We’re Seekers. We signed up for danger.”

Soren makes an unhappy sound in his throat, but doesn’t argue further. Instead, he turns to Carnelian and Nouf next.

“You stay here. We’ll confirm.”

Nouf snuffles what Nia assumes to be an affirmative.

Carnelian, however, hesitates before shaking his head. “I-I…I want to see it. Him.”

That’s a surprise. Nia wonders if the little ghost actually wants to see Yveltal, or just the crystal runoff surrounding him.

Soren’s mouth twists, but he doesn’t bother arguing with Carnelian, either. The lucario’s eyes keep flicking back to the tunnel, as if he feels just as uncomfortable with the black hole of aura as Nia does.

“Stay close,” is all Soren says, before squeezing through the gap and into the glowing tunnel.

Nia exchanges a tense look with the others, then gestures Carnelian in next. She doesn’t know exactly what lies ahead, but if they were in a dungeon they’d take a formation like this. It’s important to keep their escort safely sandwiched between capable fighters.

The sableye slips in after Soren, followed by Nia and Junie, then Samir, then Tobias.

Inside, Nia blinks to adjust to the purple-red glow surrounding them. The crystals completely cover the walls here, and Nia has to step over some clusters on the ground as they start to venture forward. It would be beautiful if the air didn’t feel so…wrong.

Junie tucks herself closer to Nia’s neck, and the group moves forward in tense silence. The ceiling of the tunnel is just high enough for Soren to walk without crouching, but Nia can’t tell if it’s the cramped nature of the tunnel or just the sheer lack of aura that makes her heart pound and fear brush at the back of her neck. Normally, Nia doesn’t consciously notice the aura around her unless she’s looking for it, but the sudden lack of it is…unsettling. Like walking through the forest and realizing that there isn’t a single sound—no trees rustling, no birdsong or bugs.

Lifeless.

The feeling only grows as they move forward, and the roaring of Nia’s pulse in her ears is only accompanied by the quiet footsteps of the others.

“O-Okay, is anyone else super freaked out right now?” Junie whispers in a rush, her voice shaking. Oh, wait, all of her is shaking.

“I am,” Nia murmurs, reaching up to cup her hand over her friend and stroke her thumb over the feathers on her back. “There’s no aura here.”

Like it’s been drained away, sucked into the nothingness ahead of them.

No one else responds, and Nia doesn’t blame them. They’re likely feeling the same way. Even whispering feels like she’s breaking some rule, like talking in church when she shouldn’t, waiting to be shushed by an adult.

It feels endless, their trek forward. Especially when Nia feels like she’s being hunted every step of the way. She keeps her eyes on Carnelian in front of her, and the awe in his gemstone eyes as he looks around at the glowing crystals is a small comfort. Ahead of them, they’re lead by Soren’s steady, unflinching form.

Finally, they round a bend in the tunnel, and the air around them opens up.

A soft purple-red glow fills the room, crystals outlining an absolutely massive, cavernous space. The ceiling has to be at least a mile up, the glow of crystals there like distant stars.

But Nia’s eyes are drawn to the one dark spot amidst the light: a massive gray…stone? It sits amidst a burst of crystals in the center of the room, like an egg in a nest. It looks almost like a meteor, the size of it larger than a bus.

However, it’s the thing’s aura that makes Nia’s breath catch as she realizes what she’s looking at. Nia thought that since their surroundings were lacking life energy, Yveltal somehow would be, too. However, this is…something else entirely.

Yveltal’s aura is immense. Dense, like carbon pressed so tightly it has become a diamond. A galaxy packed within a single star.

Will and Fidel said that Yveltal consumes life energy when he wakes, right? And that when he sleeps, he goes somewhere barren to siphon that energy off into the environment. Since it's so lifeless here, maybe that means that energy disperses far away, draining outward to nourish more fruitful areas?

Either way, if this is Yveltal after sleeping for who knows how long...then this isn’t even Yveltal at his strongest. And yet the sheer amount of energy present makes Nia tremble.

The others stand around Nia with the same air of awestruck fear, gazing silently upon Yveltal’s cocoon.

“Well,” Tobias finally breathes. “He’s here.”

“That he is,” Soren says, quiet. Nia can’t tell how he feels about the statement. “We shouldn’t linger. If he is roused early, he may go on a rampage. And with the border as weak as it is and without Xerneas to calm him, we would simply be hurrying along the end of the world ourselves.”

Nia shivers, glancing up at Soren. “I-Is it that easy to wake him up?”

Soren frowns. “I don’t believe we would wake him with our mere presence, no. It would likely take a purposeful attack or disturbance. Still, I want to be cautious.”

Understandable. “Time to report to the Matriarch, then?”

Soren nods.

The lucario leads them back to the tunnel they entered from, ushering them through first. Tobias takes the lead this time, followed closely by Samir.

Nia glances back once more at the cocoon before she follows. It’s terrifying, of course, feeling that power and imagining what sort of destruction it could wreak if awoken, but it’s also sort of—

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Carnelian whispers. Nia jumps, but turns to meet the sableye’s glittering eyes. He grins at her, clearly more delighted than fearful. Nia supposes his love of crystals overrides the sheer intimidating presence of Yveltal. Plus, aren’t sableye dark types? Maybe this is like…meeting his own personal god.

“Scary,” Nia laughs under her breath. “But…yes. Beautiful too.”

Carnelian snickers. “Agreed!”

Junie, on Nia’s shoulder, is still silent. Nia strokes her back again as they walk. “You okay, Junie?”

“Y-Yeah,” Junie breathes. “Just…a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

Nia hums her agreement. She can’t stop thinking about the sheer amount of aura she’d felt in that cocoon. Is that the power of a legendary in this world?

Does that mean Giratina is that strong, too? No, Nia supposes he isn't, considering he can’t even bring them to his realm anymore. Maybe when he was at full power?

Although…if Yveltal is still that powerful even after draining some of his energy, does that mean Giratina’s speculation was right? That he and Xerneas have managed to avoid the weakening and dormancy that the other legends have fallen to?

Hope balloons in Nia’s chest. She’d been so awestruck she hadn’t even realized what Yveltal’s presence means for their plan to save the world. Now that they’ve confirmed his location, then that means Xerneas must be sleeping nearby, right? Will and Fidel said that they usually sleep within sight of one another, so that when one wakes, then the other is ready to balance them out.

Which means they have a shot. If they can just find Xerneas, wake her, and convince her to strengthen the border, maybe they really can save this world!

And after that, Nia can finally go home, too.

The thought is bittersweet, but surely if the border is stabilized and everything is all right again, Will and Giratina can focus on figuring out how to send them back.

"But souls do not simply wander."

Nia frowns as Soren’s words from yesterday echo in her head. Sure, he might be right, but that doesn’t mean anything, really. Maybe this world…called out to the human one for help, and certain people fit the bill for whatever reason.

Nia tries not to think about it too much because it makes her uncomfortable, but her body must be sleeping in the human world. Like…in a coma or something. Or maybe there are some time shenanigans going on and she’ll wake up there as if no time has passed, like this was all just a crazy dream. She wishes she could remember what she was doing in the human world before she woke up here, but her memory is still spotty.

Nia takes a deep breath and shakes her head, as if to slough off her anxious thoughts and mixed emotions. She tries not to think about her family too often nowadays, since she has enough worries to deal with in this world, and her friends are usually a great distraction from that.

But when she does think of her family in the human world, she feels that old ache reopen in her chest, fresh as the day she woke up here.

She misses baking together with her mom and hearing her laughter when Nia inevitably gets flour in her hair somehow. She misses her brother, dousing her with a water gun under the hot summer sun and dragging her with a shriek into the lake. She misses her best friend Toni, and late nights spent driving around their little hometown with the windows rolled down and music blaring. She misses the excitement of preparing for college, the nervous anticipation of going away from home for the first time and seeing the world, of finding who and what she wanted to be.

But…

Nia swallows hard as her gaze flicks down to her shoulder, where Junie is a puddle of blue and black feathers under her hand. Then she looks ahead to Samir, the skiddo’s head held high and their ears pricked, alert as always. Then further, to Tobias.

Her partner. Her best friend in this world.

Grief stabs Nia in the heart, harder than she expects and nearly taking her breath away. She wants to go home, she does, but…some part of her wants to stay here, too. Wants to continue going on adventures with Tobias, and learning more about him, and strengthening their teamwork with Samir, and laughing and teasing with Junie.

Nia thinks about waking up in the human world and knowing that she’ll never see Tobias’ little smirks or soft blue eyes again. Never feel Samir’s reassuring presence, or hear Junie’s loud laughter.

Tears prick hot at her eyes. Nia swallows hard against the lump in her throat. No more Maggie, or Fen, or Xander and his team, or even Andyn, despite how poor their relationship is right now. No Fliss, or Will, or Fidel, or…

Nia sniffs, bringing up her other hand to swipe at her eyes.

Junie, of course, notices, and pushes Nia off with a wing to look up at her with wide, panicked eyes. “Whoa! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

That, unfortunately, catches everyone else’s attention too, and their procession through the tunnel stops as Tobias and Samir turn around immediately.

“Nia?” Tobias asks, looking ready to push past Samir to reach her side. His gaze flickers past her and Carnelian to focus on Soren for a moment before returning. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Nia laughs, embarrassed and a little watery. “Sorry. Was just...thinking about some stuff. I’m okay.”

Tobias seems uncertain. He glances at the others, as if wishing the two of them were alone so he could press for answers. “You sure?”

Nia gives him a smile, warmed by his concern. “I'm sure. Sorry. You can keep going.”

Tobias doesn’t look convinced, but after another moment of hesitation he turns around and starts leading them forward again, casting a worried look over his shoulder after a few seconds. Samir does the same before following.

“You sure you’re okay?” Junie murmurs.

“Yeah,” Nia says with a smile, shoving thoughts of her family out of her head like she does most days. “I'm fine.”

—————————————————————————————

They make it back to Nouf and then out of the mountain entirely without any further incident, and head right away to the Matriarch’s residence to inform her of their findings. Nouf peels off at some point to go about her business, and Nia can’t help feeling amused by that. The piloswine really did show up to do her job, found a god, and then clocked out as soon as she wasn’t needed. What a power move.

Finally, they find the Matriarch back in the same cozy little room they’d first met her. The weavile is sitting in her chair again, ice cane laid across her lap and a clawed paw at her chin. She doesn’t seem surprised by their findings.

“So Yveltal does indeed sleep beneath our mountain.” The Matriarch looks up at them. “Not that that changes much for us, but that is the news you were hoping for, yes?”

Nia nods. Recovered from her earlier near-breakdown, she’s feeling hopeful again. “Right. Since Yveltal is here, that means Xerneas should be somewhere close by. Within eyesight of the mountains, hopefully.”

“Somewhere lush,” Tobias adds, crossing his arms with a frown. “Though that could describe a lot of different places.”

“If we can only narrow it down to ‘places that aren’t totally dead,’ we’re gonna be searching for a while,” Junie says. She flutters over to land on Samir’s horns. “There are all kinds of places like that surrounding these mountains, right?”

Samir huffs and whistles a Yes, their brow furrowed as they try to glare up at the rookidee using them as a perch.

Soren speaks up. “Much like how Yveltal’s surroundings are entirely void of aura, Xerneas’ resting place would be overflowing with it. Nature as a result would likely not only be thriving, but would show abnormal levels of growth.”

Abnormal levels of growth? That immediately brings one place to mind for Nia. After all, they live in an abnormally large tree.

...Surely that can’t be it.

Still, the idea won’t leave her. The Lexym Tree is the tallest tree in the forest, after all, many times over. Nia had wondered at its size before, but never really questioned how it grew to such a massive state. And while she hasn’t been to all of the places within eyesight of the mountains, the Lexym Guild is the only location she can remember really standing out from their various flights.

But surely that couldn’t be Xerneas’ resting place, right? Someone would have to know about it if that was the case. Know that a literal god has been sleeping under their feet the whole time. August, at the very least, but he sent them on this mission to find Xerneas. Plus, they literally have tunnels under the guild, and those only go out to the forest, so—

Wait. A past conversation is tickling at Nia’s brain, from their mission digging out the cave-in under the guild with Abana and Conifer.

“There are more tunnels, deeper down, but they are not easily reached, wrapped in the Tree’s roots as they are. They’re surrounded by a wall too thick to dig through without risk of damaging the Tree itself.”

“I asked one of the older diggers about it once, and he said they used to be storage bunkers before they became too inconvenient to access. They haven’t been used in decades, at least.”

Nia screws up her face, trying to talk herself out of the thought. It just sounds so unbelievable, that they could’ve been sitting right on top of something so important for so long, but…

“Nia?”

Nia jumps at Tobias’ voice, looking up. Everyone is watching her expectantly, and her ears heat.

“Y-Yeah?”

“You’ve been awful quiet over there,” Junie says, tilting her head. “Whatcha thinking?”

Nia swallows, glancing nervously between all of their expectant gazes. “Well…it’s probably a silly thought.” Especially if no one else has thought of it yet.

“Sometimes ‘silly’ is correct,” The Matriarch says. “Speak your mind, girl.”

“I was just thinking of places that stand out as having abnormal growth, and, uh…what about the guild?”

For a long moment, everyone stares at Nia, and she fights off a cringe. Guess that was a stupid idea after all.

Soren is the first to speak, his brow furrowed. “The Lexym Tree is exceptionally large.”

“But there are tunnels under the guild, right?” Junie asks. “Wouldn’t they know if there was a giant Pokemon sleeping down there by now?”

“No,” Tobias says, his eyes widening with realization. He locks eyes with Nia. “Abana and Conifer said something about storage deeper down, didn’t they? That there were roots blocking the space so no one had been down there for decades.”

“If not longer,” Nia agrees. “And there are crystals down in the tunnels.”

“Carnelian, when you were at the guild, did you go down into the tunnels at all?” Tobias asks, turning to the sableye.

Carnelian jumps. “N-No, I didn’t. I stayed the night in the guest quarters, and then hurried here the next morning.”

The Matriarch laughs and slaps her knee with a paw, startling them. “Oh, that’s rich. She’s been sleeping right under our noses this whole time! I knew the gods had a sense of humor.”

Nia blinks at her. “You think we’re right? Xerneas could really be sleeping under the guild?”

The weavile is grinning. “I’ve lived in these mountains for decades, and I can’t think of anywhere else that better matches what you’re lookin’ for ‘round here.”

Nia looks back at her team. “What do you think? Do we propose the idea to August?”

“Might as well,” Junie says with a shrug.

Samir gives Nia a nod.

“I think it’s worth checking out, at the very least,” Tobias says, giving Nia a smile. “Good thinking.”

Nia smiles back, tail wagging at the praise.

“I’m guessing you’ll be wanting to leave sooner rather than later, then?” The Matriarch asks. “If so, I’ll arrange a sleigh to take you all down the mountainside tomorrow morning. There’s a flight station near the base that can take you back to the guild.”

“That would be great,” Tobias sighs.

“Thank you,” Nia adds.

“And since we’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, that means we can still go to the party tonight!” Junie says happily.

The Matriarch laughs. “I was more hoping to give you time to rest and time for us to prepare to travel, but you’re more than welcome to join the festivities tonight.“ She winks. “Just don’t stay out too late.”

Nia laughs at Tobias and Samir’s expressions. “I don’t think that'll be a problem.”

The rest of their meeting with the Matriarch wraps up quickly. The only other business to attend to is Soren telling the weavile that he plans to station sentries from the pack at Yveltal’s resting place starting tomorrow morning. When Nia and the others give him a startled look, he assures them it’s just a precautionary measure to make sure no one disturbs the legendary. Which she supposes is fair—the path there is pretty accessible if you know where to look.

Soon enough, they’re back in their lodgings, resting up for the festivities later that night.

Fidel’s eyes are round as he listens intently to their description of Yveltal’s cocoon, and Nia is reminded that the zoroark had known the most about the legendary back at the settlement due to being a dark type himself. Maybe he also worships Yveltal, to some extent.

“It sounds incredible,” Fidel says when they finish. He seems entirely healed up from his injuries, well enough to walk around on his own and agree to Junie’s request that he too join the party tonight. “I wish I could’ve seen it for myself!”

“Well, it’s not too hard to find,” Nia says idly from where she’s lying on their blankets, kicking her feet with a book open on the ground in front of her. “And Soren isn’t posting sentries until tomorrow, so you could probably still check it out tonight if you’re feeling all right.”

“Is that a good idea?” Tobias asks doubtfully.

“We’ve been going back and forth down the same path for days,” Junie says. “With his nose, I don’t think he’d get lost.”

Tobias rolls his eyes. “I meant that we don’t want to accidentally wake an angry god and break the world.”

“Fidel’s light on his feet,” Nia says, turning a page. “I doubt he would accidentally wake Yveltal. Still, one of us can go with you if you want to check it out, Fidel!”

“As long as it’s before the party,” Junie adds.

Tobias sighs. “I still don’t get why you two are so excited about this thing.”

At his side, Samir nods their agreement. They’re only half paying attention, skimming through their own book.

“You’re not looking forward to it?” Fidel asks Tobias, amused.

“I’m only going ‘cause these two will be insufferable if I don’t.”

“Dang right I will be!” Junie says.

Nia laughs, her heart light despite the enormity of their discovery today. They have a location to look for Xerneas, a promised ride down the mountainside tomorrow morning, and a party to look forward to tonight.

She can’t wait.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #alolan vulpix #pmd seekers of soul #riolu #charmander #skiddo #rookidee #tesha writes #tesha draws

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thenexusofsouls · 10 hours ago

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"Alright, well... all the more reason to step into my office," Stephen said, though he definitely noticed how Tyson appeared to be his usual cheerful and gregarious self and Wanda... well, Wanda looked like she'd just swallowed a bug. A big one. Probably one that stung, too. He knew better than to start discussing potentially sensitive matters out on the open street, though, so for now, he didn't ask too many questions.

"Yeah, that... that happens a lot," Stephen said, his lips pressing together at the sight of the gawking passersby. "I'm fairly used to it by now. Though, I think there are a lot of Doctor Who watchers in the city, because I do get the occasional, 'Where's my tardis?' inquiry," he said with an amused smirk. He turned to teh crowd in case any of them overheard. "Left it at home, today," he said, shrugging and comically patting his clothing, as if an entire telephone-booth-sized device could somehow fit inside his jacket pocket. "After you," he then gestured to Wanda and Tyson.

Once they were all through the portal and Strange closed it up, he did a quick flourish to change his outfit back to some decidedly more... sorcerer-y attire. "Welcome!" he said cheerfully, his voice echoing a bit in the large hallway they were in. "My office is just this way. Tea, anyone?" he asked as he led them to a rather nice office with ornate furniture and bookshelves with every possible inch packed full of tomes. There were even a few piled on his desk.

Although Tyson may not have sensed much technology, Wanda was immediately overwhelmed by the magical energy she felt inside the Sanctum. It was coming from all sides, many different types and strengths, and she was pretty sure even things as simple as the lights in the hallway were enchanted to some degree. Maybe never to burn out? It was a lot of noise in her head, a lot of vibrations in her body, and the Darkhold, having followed Wanda through the portal, was very interested in this new place it found itself. For now, it was keeping itself invisible, but Wanda knew it was there. How could she not when it wouldn't stop whispering to her?

Strange gestured to a couple of chairs in front of the desk while he sat in a chair behind it that... didn't much fit with the rest of the aesthetic in the room. It appeared to be a chair for... orthopedic back support. "So... What seems to be the problem?" he asked as he created a teapot and cups out of thin air and began pouring himself a cup.

Wanda politely accepted the tea too, thought her stomach was doing backflips right now. Maybe the tea would help settle it. "Um..." she said, but found herself looking to Tyson to explain the technical parts of what they had tried so far.

What Have I Become? || closed with glitchexmachina

{ @glitchexmachina, continued from here. }

In her frantic state, Wanda thought of the first person she thought would understand, the first one she thought might be able to comfort her and make her feel safe. That person was Tyson. Responding to her thoughts of him, her magic sent her straight to his front door, and after banging on it for a short while, Wanda was so glad to see him finally open it.

"Tyson!" she yelled, practically flinging herself at him and wrapping her arms tightly around him as if clinging to a rock in a storm-tossed sea. "Help me! It's gotten out of... of control and I... can't stop it!" she sobbed. "It whispers to me! It... tells me to harm people... and... I'm starting to... to want to... and I..." She shook her head, closing her eyes tightly. "I don't want that... but... I'm afraid... I won't resist it much longer..."

She really felt badly for just showing up like this, especially since things had been weird after she'd been killed in the Blip and then gone off the deep end in Westview. Would Tyson even want to help her? Would he tell her to leave? If he did, Wanda didn't know who else she would go to, since everyone she might have felt comfortable with was either dead or dealing with their own issues. She just prayed that Tyson wouldn't turn her away...

#glitchexmachina #muse: stephen strange #guest muse: wanda maximoff

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tothepointofinsanity · 2 years ago

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Greener Grass Awaits Lore "Masterpost"

[This post contains major spoilers for the game, so please be careful while interacting.]

[I would call this a fancy piece, but really it's just me incoherently blabbering about something I like not being talked about enough again. Read it with a kilogram of salt and view it as a discussion piece instead of what it tries to be. Be warned that this is a very long post, and it is encouraged to play the game before scrolling this.]

The Fundamentals: Greener Grass Awaits is advertised as a sport and horror game. In the former, your main objective is to finish all 12 holes on the golf course. In the latter, your character is stalked by undead entities under the moonlight that distract you from your said casual golfing spree. Before all else, we should start by considering the environments presented to us within the game itself, as it contains history and lore relevant to the bigger picture.

The Setting: You break into a prestigious golfing course known as the Green Canyon Golf Club, a club that has appeared on a magazine issue before which crowns it as one of 'the most inconvenient' courses in the world, likely due to the fact that it was built on an island, also featuring courses that loop around bodies of water. A bit of history given to us was that the course was initially meant to be left as open space before it underwent renovations accordingly in 1982. Today, you will find a large bridge that looms in the skyline between hole 9 to 11 which serves as one of the alternate entry ways to the island, as well as long walkways that cut between winding grasslands and forests.

The Golf Course: The lush and verdant environments of Green Canyon's courses boast the transplant of distinctly non-native, European trees to sport its current iconic look, and this impressive landscape is maintained by an outsource lawn-care company known as Greener Grass, a team that specialises in 'large, remote areas' and is known for its apparently weird advertisements. It is also implied from the bizarre ad and posters that plays at the end of the game that Greener Grass Co. has capabilities in helping to 'revive' dead or dried up lawns, and use a special brand of either soil or fertilising materials that assist in this process. The latter is implied from what you find around the caddy shack.

The further you pick and go with your ball, however, the more oppressive the atmosphere becomes. At some places you will see the illusion shedding its scales - bald, exposed trees on yellowed patches of ground despite being surrounded by other lush trees.

The Caddyshack: At the end of the twelfth hole lies a building you were warned to stay away from because "it's bad", according to an actual Green Canyon club member you met previously. All the doors in the building are locked except for the employee's only room, which will reveal a bloody scene. Presumably, the person you encountered previously who gave you the warning was dead on a chair, while a charred body lies on the office table in the middle of the room. Strewn about are cans of gasoline and Greener Grass Awaits co. bags, possibly containing the fertiliser or soil speculated before. The caddyshack is an important place as it functions as the gateway between the human world and the realm of the residing deity.

More of this will be explained later on.

The Forest: Entering the darkness of the room in the caddyshack will magically transport you to a different space of existence. Here, temples are separated by deep forests, with sacrificial alters occasionally in between them. The forests are dark, and staying in the light is necessary for survival. There are two objectives in this section of the game: pop The Blister and then Kill the Tree. You will need to repeat this objective twice as you march further into the home of the eldritch deity. The Blisters are pulsing gobs of flesh, like a heart, that are stuck onto the orifice of a tree in the forests. However, the game developer interestingly refers to them not as blisters, but as wounds. More on this later. Popping the blisters with your ball will open up the temples' entrance to access the Trees in question, hence the latter objective. You Kill the Trees by swinging your ball into the hole beneath its trunk. There are two Trees (so two Blisters altogether) to kill. When both trees are killed, your action provokes the deity living in this space of existence so much that a boss fight is instigated.

With that being said, it's important to now discuss the enemies we encounter in question.

The Antagonists: Sneaking in for some midnight golfing has its consequences the longer you overstay your welcome on the field and continuously stare down the face of evil. Interestingly, this game presents a surprisingly thought-out mechanism and line-up of enemies as they do not operate on a singular basis, but rather as a triangular feedback between a cult, a forest of angels, and a God out of this world.

The Cult: Under the guise of a landscape company skillful in maintaining the surrounding flora, it is heavily speculated that the Greener Grass co. are an elusive cult that has been offering human sacrifices to a foreign deity that promises everlasting scenery (satisfaction, contentment) in exchange. It is implied from some sign boards that the Greener Grass cult have been spreading the deity's influence outside of its realm and into the human world through the transplant of the aforementioned 'saplings from Europe'. The flora of this game are symbolic of the presence of this God, and potentially serves as an anchor for it to assist in the maintenance of the landscape. Some clues eluding to us that it is indeed a cult were the bloodied altars in the forest sections, as well as a weird book lying on one of the chairs in the Caddyshack. The inscription on the front cover is hard to make out.

The three enemies that stalk you through the game are Greener Grass employees, and are the poster children for both the cult and company given they are one and the same. The 'bizarre ad' that plays at the end also features the same trio, and the song played in it has lyrics hinting towards the company's true intentions. Some of these notable lyrics are: "my life is not what I imagined", "what if you could find that green, and all you had to do was come with me?", "it's the answer to your problems if you come with me". Definitely ominous, and the cult's whole ordeal with 'greener grass awaits you' is a play on the proverb of "the grass is greener on the other side".

Essentially, it is a cult that capitalises off people's insecure dissatisfaction with their own lives (which is pretty much in character for most cults in the real world anyways), takes advantage of sentiments of envy stemmed similarly, all with the lure that you will be happy if you join them. However, the cult does not just follow the stereotypical 'what if happiness was evil' trope, but because their motif is directly tied to the deity they serve under.

The 'Angels': The forests between the temples and altars are occupied with a crowd of stone statues that have that trademark grin the employees had. The angels operate in a very unique mechanism. Unlike the trio employees that stalk closer when your back is turned on them, the statues littering the forest grounds follow another modified system of the weeping angel formula - the second you stay with them in the dark without a light source, it will prompt flashing visages of their faces to psychicly overwhelm your vision. They do not directly attack you, instead choosing to paralyse you in with their surrounding numbers if you're left to wander in the darkness. I call them 'angels' as they seem to be closer to the original weeping angel family in terms of how they work, but also due to the fact that they look much more friendly in the light. They are also enthusiastic statues who rotate between striking an unnecessarily cute abundance of poses. All these poses involve them expressing their joy, almost in ecstasy. Praising, worshipping...something. The ironic liveliness of their poses grants them an impression that they are dancing behind your back.

I also like the detail that when a light source is on them, their expressions are always shut-eyed, but with the visages that flash repeatedly in dark areas, even if you can't see them well, the game shows you that their eyes are open, and thus the impression their expressions give off is that they're mocking you.

On their own, the angels are not a difficult enemy given their psychic esque attacks are ceased with keeping the light close to you. But this game is sadistic, so it eventually throws in the Greener Grass employees into the forests as well. What occurs then is that you're forced to move away constantly - so you either get killed by the employee for trying to keep the light with you, or you're killed by the angels once the employee drives you out of the light's radius. Extremely evil. Once again, it is to enforce the idea that everything that wants to kill you in the game are in cahoots with each other. Another minor detail I noticed was that the trio employees from the Greener Grass commercial also broke into dances over something viewed as trivial as growing lawn grass, which is likely a parallel to the Angels' poses. The expression of 'dancing' and a carved, permanent grin, I think, is done to honour their God.

A God: The overseer of the Greener Grass cult, a deity not from our familiar world who is connected to trees, nature, and most importantly, joy. The final enemy of this game is Exuberance, an eldritch divinity who has nefarious intentions of fully crossing over to 'our' world once the Last Sacrifice is Broke Open. A face with a grin stretched wide by tree branches.

Exuberance is an interesting name as it is generally defined by 'the quality of being full of energy, excitement, and cheerfulness; ebullience.' It's not simply the emotion of happiness, but rather, referring to a state of high spirits, of ecstatic liveliness being. Furthermore, and perhaps this is merely a clever coincidence, but 'exuberance' can also be used to describe, 'the quality of growing profusely; luxuriance' particularly with plants, which would circle back to how it is related to trees and the Greener Grass cult. The entities associated with Exuberance are then constantly in a state of 'bliss' and carve their own faces to resemble their deity. After all, since when was the last time you felt so happy the only method of expressing it is through a dance? It's a primal trait, undoubtedly.

It is thus speculated that this God is quite ancient given the appearance of its realm, the forest, contains archaic architecture of temples. Yet, the bodies we find on the sacrificial altars are fresh, the blood more red than rust. Exuberance had been collecting human sacrifices through its cult, as evident by the large amount of bodies/souls that are released whenever the deity takes damage. It has that same air of confidence and arrogance towards humans that most eldritch Gods carry themselves with. Likes to speak a lot. Here are all of its lines:

Abandon this endeavor. You can't kill a God! You will join me eventually, everyone does!

Now I realise who I'm talking to! No matter. Your suit of flesh is fragile. I will break it open, and you will pour out. That body will be the last sacrifice I need.

You cannot keep that world! I will take your dinner from you.

Upon your first playthrough, though, Exuberance's dialogue sounds like complete gibberish or madness when the context is not made clear yet. This whole journey thus far has not made much sense on how it transitions from casual golfing to killing a God, how Green Canyon Golf Club has to do with a cult; but it will hopefully become clearer with the next introduction: The Protagonist.

The Protagonist: Our local golfer may not just be as local as we thought.

We've discussed the setting and the enemies. Now we must talk about the main character: yourself. In the game, you have no reflection to view your character's appearance, but if it helps in any way, you seem to be slightly shorter than the majority of the enemies and NPCs you encounter. This isn't important information, I just think it's funny. Your character is generally regarded as a weirdo, even speculated to be mentally unstable or inebriated by some people discussing this game. The signs seem to be there: vaulting fences into a premium golf course after dark to play golf in the dark, having a tendency to stare at other characters straight in the eyes, unsettling even the security guard, and appears to be obsessed with the sport of golf. Your character is played up to be an infatuated madman with the latter, with mental barriers scribbled about how they wouldn't miss golf for the world, and the leading theory as a result was that the entire game was a hallucination birthed from their obsession with golf, or rather, too bloody drunk and passed out with strange dreams near the canyon. This would have been the case until you consider two things: Firstly, despite claiming to be a hardcore golfer, your character carries around a beginner's guide on the sport, and has only a simple putter and driver in their sling bag. When you kill Exuberance and wake up in front of the club's front door, you also do not recall where you were, only recognising your car was parked, and that you should leave. Not recognising Green Canyon Golf Club indicates to us that something is off, given as discussed prior, it is an infamous place for golfing, and had the character really been a die-hard for the sport, they would have realised it without problem. Secondly, the character you play from the start to the end of the boss fight compared to when you wake up seem to have differing personalities. The character you have been stuck with seems to know what they're doing at all times, and gives instructions on their next move. They're stiff, rigid, and are not easily excitable even in the face of the stalking employees or a dead body. They don't seem to care much about anything at all except for an odd aversion to water, as well as wanting to kill Exuberance. What is even stranger is that the font for the character's monologue is completely different after the boss fight ends.

During the game:

After the game/ending:

The former is more messy, like it's written by hand. The latter is a plain font. This implies that something about your character has changed — the truth was that you were possessed all along, most likely by another eldritch God whom is not Exuberance, and came to the golf course to slay it. There are some allusions to you being a separate eldritch entity: Exuberance recognises you. Not the character you were playing as, but whatever that was occupying the human vessel temporarily. An eldritch God has no reason to remember or know a mere human, after all, hence explaining the second and third line of dialogue by it in the temples, as well as why when the original owner of the body wakes up, they have no recollection of what occured whatsoever, and, effectively as other players have thought - it's all chalked up to both the ordinary you and the players as 'just a dream'.

Your character also refers to themselves as "this body" whenever you enter the water as the vessel you are possessing has no swimming skills. At the very start of the game, you even get to 'choose body'. You're choosing a vessel suitable to your liking to possess. What is more evident as well is the ominous answers that you can use to respond to whatever the NPCs are saying, as well as frightening them due to the possibility even they knew you felt off. You would often hear screams drone louder and louder in the background whenever you got near to these NPCs, as they are actually dead. We 'hear' the truth from what is not directly told to us by these spirits that were trying to advise against proceeding deeper into the course.

Yet, we proceed. The enemies would have directly charged at you from the get-go instead of waiting for you to look away since the way you look at something (eyes are the windows to the soul, and I wonder what kind of thing they would see in the place of one when others look at you) since you clearly hold a certain influence over them by presence and stare alone. The undead should have nothing to fear, and yet even they practice caution against something that reminds them of their patron God. Another reason I believe you're being possessed is because the font you have always used in the game feels handwritten, the same way Exuberance's font is more cursive and messy. Clearly, you are a deity by some means, just a different kind with different intentions; some intentions that are left unanswered even after finishing the game.

Just what exactly does all of this writing amount to?

The Final Story: An expansive golf course known as the Green Canyon Golf Club opens up in 1982 after being renovated from its previously barren state. It was founded on a large island, featuring a diverse, challenging number of holes for people to enjoy while they traverse the canyon's scenery. In order to maintain the green and natural state of the course, Green Canyon managers hired a company known as Greener Grass to assist them. Greener Grass co. appeared to be a rather new company, having only few reviews, but an eye catching advertisement and specialises in the lawn keeping for large, remote areas, which seemed to fit the canyon's liking and geographic description. The hired company set to work, transplanting in gorgeous trees supposedly from Europe, as well as using their own brand of soil to allow the environment of the course to prosper. The environment was clearly well tended to, with the course even forbidding golf carts due to how sensitive and delicate the fields were, as well as advising golfers to not hit their balls into the trees as native birds nested there. Despite these rules, the course was fairly prestigious, its popularity captured in several sports magazines.

What was unknown to the club, however, was that this lawnscape company they hired was actually a cult, and the permission to freely introduce foreign flora to the land had been with the company's intention to bring in anchors tied to the God they made contact with, Exuberance. Through the golf course and perhaps other places not mentioned, Exuberance had been steadily increasing its influence over the human world as it received more and more sacrifices thanks to its formidable cult. The cult worked in a caddyshack on the golf course, and would lure in members of the golfing club with normal statements of refreshments available, only to offer them up as sacrifices to the altars of the temple. The sacrificed bodies were then burned and made into the materials the Greener Grass front used to maintain the lush landscapes. Countless rinse and repeat sessions of bloodshed later, Exuberance required just one more body still to cross over to the human world and, from there, become unstoppable with the fact that its associating flora were planted everywhere by the cult by then.

But the violent rituals of the Greener Grass cult had resulted in innocent souls trapped on the grounds of the course and realm in-between worlds. The souls screamed in their fate of immortalised anguish, and eventually this unbearable abundance of noise roused the deity of the human world from its previous state of inaction. Exuberance is a source of insolence, believing it could attempt to compete with Us for the world we looked after. Something must come out of this. The problem was that Exuberance's realm was closed off, difficult to penetrate without proper mobility. A plan was thus hatched: possess a suitable vessel to appear human in order to get closer to the home of the enemy. It risked vulnerability as the human body was fragile and had a mind occupying it already, but that doesn't matter when casting a heavy filter of obsession with the sport would properly motivate them to do the bidding. This different deity knows that Green Canyon Golf Club had been discreetly converted to a massive ritual ground at this point, and playing by the rules of the world of golf, even if tedious, was necessary to reaching the gateway and destroy the anchors tied to Exuberance.

You play the role of a victim as the undead start to stalk from behind, but something was off about this sacrifice, and the employees take turns reporting back to their God of this issue. Exuberance believed the disguise of a human, not being aware of what laid hidden under the layers of blood and bones. You finish the 12th hole, enter the caddyshack, and find yourself where you wanted to be: on the turf of the enemy's temples. Staying in the light was vital to survival here, and as fresh blood collects in the basin of the altar from a previous sacrifice, the innocence of a stolen life had purified to form a glowing orb. An orb that lights up like a star in the dreary landscape, taking the filth of flesh as it goes. By the time Exuberance had realised the scheme of a trojan horse, you had already successfully killed the trees, and all that was left was to kill Exuberance itself. With each swing, you take out pieces of the God, releasing the souls into the surroundings.

The fight ends with a clear victor, and you wake up outside of the golf club with no recollection of any of this. The deity possessing your vessel had relinquished control, allowing you to continue your life as normal. What occurs after then is unclear, as the advertisement sings its jingle, and we get to see the spine of a book inscribed with strange symbols on the right as the game ends with the sound of a closing door.

TLDR; Local grass cult goes overboard with human sacrifice rituals, acidentally summons worse eldritch being to kill their patron deity just so it would shut up. Happy golfing!

#Grass Archives #Greener Grass Awaits #Greener Grass Awaits game #today on: explaining things to the thin air #i really like the game's lore since it's written like a proper cosmic horror/lvcraft esque #but even outside of ignoring the lore it's an effective horror game #and by that i mean it takes advantage of paranoid people (me)#sound design and songs for this game rock too #Yatoimtop Archives

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corkinavoid · 9 months ago

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DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman

[A loose continuation to this post]

Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.

And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.

"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.

It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.

"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.

The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.

Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."

Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."

At least that makes the man move.

When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.

The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.

"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.

"This is not necessary, Mother."

"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.

"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.

"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."

She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.

Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"

"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.

Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.

"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.

Damian doesn't answer.

The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-

A few things happen at once.

Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.

But Talia's blade doesn't strike.

A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.

Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.

But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.

"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.

"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.

"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.

But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.

"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.

Hold the fuck up, brother?

"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.

"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.

"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.

"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."

There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.

Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.

"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.

"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.

"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."

"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."

Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.

"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."

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oaksgrove · 6 months ago

Text

Welcome Gift

Pairing: König x Reader

Synopsis: After moving to Austria to live with König, you find yourself overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of a new country. From navigating the bustling streets to adjusting to the rhythm of life in a different culture, your nerves are stretched thin. But König, ever thoughtful and patient, is determined to make you feel loved and at home in every way possible.

Warnings: none?

word count: 985

Salzburg streets bustled with a quiet charm, the winter air crisp as you and König walked hand in hand. Snow dusted the cobblestones, and warm lights glowed from shop windows, painting the city in hues of gold and white. It was picturesque, but your nerves were a jumble. Moving to Austria to live with König had been a leap of faith, and while you loved him deeply, adjusting to life here was proving to be a challenge.

You found yourself clutching König’s hand a little tighter than usual as you walked. Everything felt so new—unfamiliar faces, different languages, even the way people carried themselves. There was a rhythm to the city, it wasn’t unfriendly, just one you hadn’t quite learned yet, and while it was beautiful, it also left you feeling adrift in an ocean of the unknown.

“You’re quiet,” König said softly, glancing down at you. His Austrian accent, once a novelty when you first met, had become a comforting melody in your life.

“Just… taking it all in,” you murmured, giving him a small smile.

König slowed to a stop, turning to face you fully. His height meant he had to dip his head to meet your gaze, and his piercing blue eyes held a wealth of affection. “If it’s too much, we can take it slow,” he said, his large hand brushing softly against yours. “You’ve already done so much by coming here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but his warm smile and the steady reassurance in his gaze stopped you. He leaned down slightly, his forehead almost brushing yours. “Let me spoil you today, ja?”

Before you could respond, König guided you toward a shop nestled between two taller buildings. Its display window glittered with jewelry—delicate chains, rings, and gemstones arranged with care. You blinked up at him, your brow furrowing.

“What are we doing here?”

“I told you,” he said, holding the door open for you. “A proper welcoming gift. Something beautiful to match you.”

You blinked, cheeks flushed at his words, your mouth opening and closing as you searched for a response. A welcoming gift? You’d thought the flowers he brought home every day were already more than enough, but König clearly had other ideas.

The interior of the shop was even more charming than the display outside—polished wood counters, velvet-lined cases, and a faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. A kindly older woman greeted König, her tone familiar and warm as she spoke in German. He responded easily, his voice dipping into the fluid rhythms of his native tongue.

You caught most of the exchange—your German was decent, though far from fluent—but nuances still slipped through your grasp. König noticed your tentative expression and gave you a soft smile. “This shop,” he explained, switching back to English, “is special. My mother, my sisters, even my grandmother—they’ve all come here over the years. It’s where my family buys things for… important moments.”

Your heart skipped at the significance of that statement. “König, that’s—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Now, let’s find something for you.”

He took his time examining the displays, occasionally asking the shopkeeper questions. Eventually, his gaze landed on a pair of earrings— a delicate silver design, teardrop-shaped with a subtle shimmer that wasn’t too flashy. Beside them was a matching necklace, simple yet elegant, with a single pendant that mirrored the earrings’ design.

Turning to you, he gestured to them. “These. Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful,” you murmured, your cheeks flushing. “But König, I can’t—”

“You can,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I want you to have something from here. So that when you wear it, you’ll remember how much it means to me that you’re here.”

The sincerity in his words left you speechless, and before you knew it, you were leaving the shop with a small, carefully wrapped box in your hands, almost too much to bear. You turned to König, your voice tentative. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You already have,” he said simply, taking your hand in his as he led you back into the bustling streets.

Later that day, the scent of fresh coffee and pastries filled the apartment as König emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate. On it was your favorite pastry, carefully chosen from a bakery he’d insisted on visiting earlier. He set it down in front of you along with a cup of coffee and a small stack of German vocabulary cards, each one handwritten with neat, blocky letters.

“I know your German is good,” he said, almost shyly, his towering form seeming a little smaller in the soft light of the kitchen. “But I thought these might help with the little things.”

You picked up one of the cards, your eyes skimming over his careful handwriting. “You made these?”

He nodded. “I want you to feel comfortable. To feel… like this is home.”

Your chest tightened at the depth of his thoughtfulness. “König,” you said softly, setting the card down to reach for his hand. “You’re spoiling me.”

He chuckled, crouching beside you so that you were eye level, his large hands cradling yours gently. “Maybe,” he admitted, his smile warm. “But I don’t mind. I want you to know how much you mean to me. You’ve made my life so much better just by being in it. Now that you’re here, I want to make sure you feel loved and safe every day.”

Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, unable to find the words to express how much his actions meant to you. Instead, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was a quiet reassurance that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

König smiled against your lips, his hands tightening around yours. “Welcome home, meine Liebe,” he murmured.

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

Note

did u delete a fic? i swear i saw a tio!miguel fic earlier today

a/n: hi angel! thank you for asking, in fact there was an age restriction and I decided to delete it, I'll take advantage of your comment and repost it. ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

"TIO" MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER

𝐓𝐖: dark plot, toxic relationship, power play, non con, dub con, manipulation, age gap, step!incest (non-blood uncle), invasion of privacy, stalking, threat, dead dove, dark smut, latino ftm reader, femboy reader, jealousy, aggressive sex, recorded sex, dom!miguel, v!sex, blowjob, spanish nicknames, send nudes, degradation, objectification, AU, male x male, porn plot, long fic, brain rot, creampie, blackmail.

Family parties were normal for your family, getting together some close relatives and celebrating on any weekend, always with plenty of music and laughter filling your ears, was annoying at times, but you couldn't say 'no' to a tradition.

You felt the cold of the night breeze enter your skin, each hair left its place accompanied by a strange chill ── you were being watched, and you knew very well who it was... Tio Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara was a friend of your father, a mysterious and serious man, even though your family welcomed him as if he shared the same blood, he still had the same look of rigidity and seriousness ── no one knew much about his past, if he had some relationship or family before moving to your city years ago, but it was only said that he worked as a caretaker on some local farms ── which made him earn too much money for a simple caretaker, but that matter was not touched by no one in your family.

You obeyed the strict rule of calling him "Uncle" or "Tio", since when he arrived, when his eyes met yours, it was as if something awakened in his core ── a flame lost for years, now burning in his soul, and you it was the kerosene that made this fire worse.

Your attention returned to reality, seeing the tanned man go to the place where you were, sitting next to you; muscular legs crammed into the black jeans he always wore, with a weather-beaten dress shirt that had previously been white, now appeared to be a light vanilla shade, hugging the girth of his robust muscles. He had a cold, fresh can of beer in his right hand, while his left went towards his hair, arranging some loose strands that insisted on falling on his forehead, his lips formed a thin line, the corners turned down in disapproval ── The sight of you hiding from the celebration hurt him, a pang of possessiveness invaded his chest, soon remembering the things he had seen, however, before touching on the topic of rupture the words came out softly from his throat.

"What is wrong, carinõ?"

He asked softly, hand reaching out to take yours gently. His grip was firm but not unnecessarily tight, calloused skin warm against your own.

"You should be out there, dancing and laughing with your family... You seem thoughtful mi principito"

You sighed in response, quickly explaining that you weren't in a party mood, your hands went back to the cell phone that was previously in your pocket, making the Mexican's eyes narrow in response to such an act. O'Hara took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, then crushing the drink can in his hand and turning to you, he knew exactly what he wanted to know and he wanted the truth.

"Who was that boy, mi vida?”

He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame as the music swelled around you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, you felt the burn of heat on his body, the smell of expensive men's perfume and cheap alcoholic drink.

"You were speaking so intimately with him..."

His voice was a low purr, tinged with warning.

"This is our moment, just us... I dropped that phone." That was a threat, making you make a quick excuse ── after all, you knew exactly what he was talking about, you were going out with "Hobbie Brown", a friend from your college, but you didn't expect your uncle to have seen the two of you together (but it wasn't very difficult, you and the boy always clung to each other even if you didn't have anything officially. )

You moved away from Miguel's heat, before the sensation was still tolerable, but now it seemed like a violent flame and about to explode like a time bomb. Your mouth opened, speaking sweet lies, trying to mask the fact that you were going out with Hobbie ── you knew that the best way was to lie, even if it didn't do anything, you had already seen how your non-sanguine uncle acted like a crazy man when you were around people other than him. Miguel's eyebrows arched in disbelief, dark brows furrowing deeply. "Tell me, corazón, is there something you wish to confess to me?"

He asked, tilting his head curiously. His gauze lingered on your lips, as if he could taste the lie on them. "I see what happens around me, my heart."

He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

"And I do not like it... Do not lie to me, mi angel, because the next lie I hear from your sweet lips, you'll regret it." The sound of his voice was a low rumble, like thunder on the horizon. He pulled you close again, his lips brushing your ear softly.

"You play with fire... Mi pequeño."

His voice was a whisper now, his breath warm against your skin.

"And one day, that fire will burn you."

He released you then, stepping back with a harsh exhale. His eyes were stormy, his features set in a hard line. Miguel stared at you for a moment, as if he could read your thoughts, as if he could feel your fear ── Finally, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If I ever hear of another man touching you like that again... I will end him." He muttered, downing a large gulp of his drink before setting the bottle down on the table. You watched him leave, the loud footsteps on the raw cement floor were enough to tell you that he was angry. The rest of the party was strange, you felt tio Miguel's eyes on you, even though the atmosphere was pleasant for the other participants in your family, everything had gotten worse after the confrontation you had with the man ── you thought about telling about your uncle's strange behavior towards your father, but you knew it wouldn't help, they would just defend Miguel and say that you were exaggerating... But you felt like you weren't.

You went to your room, while you saw the tall man's shadow in the hallway, bumping into the walls because he was too drunk to think or stand on his feet ── you saw him leaning on your door frame, while you asked calmly if he needed some help. Miguel's eyes met his, his vision slightly blurred from the alcohol he had consumed. He licked his lips, his gaze roaming your body hungrily, but he didn't act, only a sob and a sad laugh left his lips, while he showed his white canines.

"You are mi ninõ. You always have been and always will be... There is no escaping your destiny."

He babbled, his words filled with drink, but he was serious, like he had never spoken before, you could see a mix of dark emotions that burned in his brown orbits, each word, no matter how slurred it was, carried a clear truth that could not be said aloud by several taboos.

His hands reached out, gripping your arms tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving small red marks.

"Don't forget this... You would never lie to your Uncle right? I will protect you... Incluso si es de ti mismo."

He leaned closer, his breathing heavy and laced with the smell of whiskey.

"But I will also punish you if you disobey me."

He let go of you then, frowning as he looked at the marks he had left on your arms.

"Go to bed now."

He mumbled, turning away from you and stumbling towards the door.

"Sleep well, my precious boy."

His voice was filled with alcohol, spite and a twisted desire ── the latter making his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, as he staggered out, ignoring everything and everyone around him, you tried to ignore the burning in your stomach, a mixture of fear and a bittersweet heat near your stomach, you were maybe just very tired... Right? You pushed away the thoughts that consumed your mind, trying to grab the fog of sleep that you tried to achieve, you hoped for a good day... But little did you know what fateful destiny had planned.

You woke up to your parents cleaning the house, it was a hot and irritating Sunday, you woke up sweaty and to the loud sounds of rooms being dragged from one place to another ── you really didn't want to be there, so your father told you to go to your uncle Miguel's house, even though you insisted on saying the opposite, that you could handle the chaos at home and help them, but your parent just repeated the phrase and sent you to keep O'Hara company at his house.

Everything would be better than facing him again.

You wore your most comfortable and cool dress for that sultry summer day ── your breasts bounced and you felt the coolness of the wind blowing beneath your legs, reaching your thighs and panties, an adorable boy, on the way to the wolf's house.

Walking under the sun until you saw Miguel's house in a rural area and away from the common neighborhood, you called his name, soon seeing the man come completely sweaty and shirtless, still wearing the same pants from yesterday, while drying his sweat of his brow, letting you into his comfort.

"Fine."

He grumbled, he turned around, taking you home without saying another word. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

As you entered the house, you noticed a slight disorder. Miguel's usually immaculate house really needed some cleaning. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.

"Your father said you were coming..." He sighed with a hand on his hips as he looked at you steadily. "That's good, now we can continue our conversation from yesterday, okay? I want the truth my boy, give me your cell phone, unlocked... After all, you have nothing to hide from me right... You and Hobbie are just good friends... Right?" His voice carried that threatening and authoritarian tone again, you stuttered but when you saw your uncle's look you swallowed hard and accepted your fate, obviously you had spicy messages on your cell phone, but what could you do? Running unfortunately wasn't an option, neither was screaming, you were trapped in a spider's web, and in the possessive man's judgmental gaze.

"Now. Give it to me. Or else you know what I'm capable of."

He repeated as you handed him the electronic device ─ and it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for... Miguel's eyes narrowed as he flipped through the messages on his phone. His grip tightened around the device, his knuckles turning white. A mixture of anger, jealousy and hurt crossed his face as he read the explicit messages and saw the intimate photos, you were really with that boy... You were doing everything behind his back.

"How dare you show your body to that piece of shit!"

His voice was laced with bitterness and disappointment. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking on impact.

"Do you think you can send nudes to some random boy and get away with it?"

He took a step towards you, his expression darkening.

"Did he make you wet? Did he make you excited?" His words came out like venom, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. Miguel's grip on his chin tightened, his fingers digging into his flesh. His angry eyes fixed on his, his expression filled with a mixture of possessiveness and pain.

"I expected everything... Except that, I'm tired, tired of just being seen as your fucking uncle... I can give you so much more than that boy ever could. I can make you scream, make you beg for more. But you need to understand that you are mine."

His voice was filled with a desperate need, a desire that was both warm and terrifying. He pressed his body against his, his erection evident through his jeans. You tried to protest again, in vain, you just felt O'Hara's thick lips on yours, it was strong, his tongue dominating his as he held you tightly. His hand guided your trembling hand to his hard, throbbing erection, pressing it against the fabric of his pants. He let out a low growl of pleasure, the sound vibrating against your lips.

"You always make me hard on boy... So fucking hard." He continued kissing you fiercely, your free hand moving to grip his waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pressed your body against his again, now the bulge of his pants rubbing against your thigh. The intensity of his touch and the raw desire in his eyes made your own body respond, despite the fear and confusion, it was so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.

"Do you think you can show yourself like that to anyone? Do you think there will be no consequences?"

He pushed you back, guiding you towards the couch again ─ his hands exploring your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

"Strip for me, baby boy. Show me that body you dared to share with someone else. Show me what only I should see."

His voice was commanding, his eyes burning of lust and anger. He watched as you hesitantly complied, removing your clothes piece by piece, revealing your naked form to him ── your dress was discarded somewhere in the room, your breasts bounced while your nipples became hard from contact with the air, your pussy was already wet, a simple kiss had done that to you.

He looks at you with admiration... All of that was for him, a banquet of the gods, he wasn't going to leave you in punishment, no matter how angelic you were, he was going to reduce you to a dumb and beautiful mess, totally broken for him.

"Look at you... So eager to please, so desperate for my touch. Did just one kiss from does your uncle get you this wet?"

A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took hold of his cell phone, opening the camera app with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Well, since you were so willing to show yourself to that boy, I think it's only fair that I capture this moment. Don't you agree, my precious angelito?"

He positioned himself in front of you, his cock springing free from his pants. The sight of his naked arousal feels a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. He pulled you down to your knees, his grip firm on the back of your head.

"Suck it," he commanded "Let the world see what a slut you've become."

You hesitated for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But the thought of defying him only fueled his anger further. With a mixture of trepidation and submission, you wrapped your lips around his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around his head. He groaned, his grip tightening in his hair as he began recording your submissive act.

"You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Such a good boy, taking it all in."

He continued to record, capturing each salacious moment as you eagerly pleasured him. The taste of his cock and the sound of his moans filled your senses, heightening your own pleasure. Your body responded, the tingling warmth between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

"No one else gets to taste you like this. You're my slutty boy, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

He spoke as the fat and hot tip of his member hit your throat repeatedly, making you choke and connect your nose with his groin, the lack of air making you momentarily see stars as he let you breathe again.

As Miguel reached his climax, he grunted and released a hot jet of cum into your mouth. He groaned with satisfaction, feeling the pulsing sensation as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste of his essence filled your senses, mixed with the bitter-sweet humiliation of the situation. Once he had finished, he withdrew his dick from your mouth, his grip firm on your face. He forced you to open your mouth wide, showing your dirty tongue, coated with his cum, to the camera. The sadistic glint in his eyes only intensified as he instructed you to swallow it all.

You obediently complied, gulping down his cum, heavy tears ran down your body, while his thumb pulled your cheek to show him even more of your oral cavity.

"Look at the camera....You look like a damn porn star... A filthy, little porn star."

You barely had time to react, then the man trapped you beneath him again ─ his thighs separated yours, while he looked at your cunt milking the air with so much excitement, making him laugh mockingly and dominantly ─ without prior warning, his thick cock entered your wet pussy, stretching you to your limits and causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through your body. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts.

As he thrust into you, Miguel focused the camera on your tear-streaked face, capturing every moment of your vulnerability and submission.

You were a mess of conflicting emotions, a beautiful sight to him as he reveled in his dominance over you, The desire makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong ── soon you find yourself thrusting your hips onto his cock, whimpering pathetically as you moan his name.

"Mmm, you're such a buen chico para mí.. such a good and beautiful pussy... You hid it from me for so long... But you showed it so easily to that bastard... You disappoint your uncle sometimes, boy."

His hand left the camera momentarily, his fingers finding your clit, caressing it in a way that made your moans intensify, he watched your reactions closely, moaning with lips parted, as he looked directly into your teary eyes.

"See, I knew you'd love this, aren't you? Oh, sí... Mierda- Eres tan apretado chico".

Then, with the peaks of moans and pounding of flesh on flesh, his grunts grew louder and more primal as he climaxed. With one final thrust, he released his hot sperm deep inside your pulsating pussy, filling you with his essence. When he pulled out, the camera captured the evidence of your intimate connection, showing the mixture of his cum and your own juices. Your pussy clenched and milked the air, aching for more even after he finished.

"You've taken all of my cum... Un buen chico para tu tio."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a tinge of shame as you watched your body respond to his touch.

He smiles at the video on his cell phone, while looking at you with a dangerous glare.

"Now you're going to be a good putito... After all, you don't want this to leak out to our family, do you?"

You had no choice, and maybe you didn't even want to... Miguel had broken you, as he always wanted, you were his now, only his.

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ponderingmoonlight · 10 months ago

Text

Meeting your ex jjk boyfriend again after your breakup

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,1 k

Warnings: cheating in gojo's part, overwhelming emotions in every part lol

Well that escalated quickly. If you want a part two with Geto, Sukuna, Chose and/or someone else let me know 🤍

Gojo Satoru

You hate to be here. Just the thought of seeing his face again makes your guts turn. When was the last time you encountered each other?

When he was with her.

“Don’t panic, I’m here with you. Remember?”, Utahime mutters into your ear while walking up those cursed steps towards jujutsu high.

“I thought I’d never have to see that jerk’s face again…”

“Well, not when you’re the second strongest. Don’t let that idiot ruin your mood.”

You sign to yourself, gaze drifting over your beloved students.

When you found out your long-term boyfriend Gojo Satoru cheated on you with none other than Mei Mei, you dropped out of Tokyo Jujutsu High immediately. It was Utahime who took you under her wing and made you the teacher you are today – at Kyoto High.

Those past two years, you really managed to stay away from him. After changing your phone number countless times, after searching day and night for a place to live that he won’t find so easily, you finally lived in peace. Far away from the pain he caused, well distracted from your still messed-up feelings.

But now you’re back. And you will be forced to meet that prick.

“There they come”, Nobara mutters while her gaze drifts over every person that comes into frame.

“Hey, who’s that woman over there?”

“That’s (y/n), a former student here at Jujutsu High. She attended the same class as Gojo-sensei. Right now, she’s working as a teacher at Kyoto High”, Megumi explains briefly.

“Former? Why isn’t she here anymore? I’d love to borrow those boots from here. Damn, that outfit really rocks…”

“There have been some…incidents with Gojo-sensei…”

Nobara’s eyes widen in pure curiosity, her eyes scanning you up and down.

“Her, with that white-haired idiot?”

“What are my lovely students talking about?”

Megumi rolls his eyes out of instinct when the tall man comes to a stand behind them.

“Oh look, the students from Kyoto High arrives with their tea-“

His breath gets stuck in your throat when your eyes make contact with his. How long has it been since he last saw you?

You look…flawless. Your hair a little longer than in his imagination, your body well-built by the countless training hours you might have spent over there at Kyoto High.

But your cold gaze is still the same as on that fateful day that still repeats itself over and over inside his head.

Fuck.

“Look who’s there”, he jeers from afar.

You feel like vomiting all over the floor. Were you really dumb enough to think your feelings just disappeared into thin air? You force your eyes away from him and to stare at his students instead. You just need to get those few days over with. Only those couple hours and you’ll get away with not seeing him for another 2 years.

“Shut up, Gojo”, Utahime warns him next to you.

“It’s nice to see you’re still as weak as before, Utahime! I wonder if you’re still crying all the time-“

"Funny, Gojo. It's nice to see your arrogance is still compensating for your insecurities. Some things never change."

The air around you freezes when those words leave your mouth, everyone around you going silent in an instant. It’s only you and him. Him with that suddenly so hardened expression, you with eyes that spit venom his way.

“Why don’t you save your breath for someone who cares and just leave us alone until the competition starts?”

"Touché. But if you're going to psychoanalyze me, how about we do it somewhere private? We have some catching up to do."

There it is again. That cheeky smile you know painfully well, the way he tilts his head to the side oh so playfully. Your heart wrenches, bleeds out like it did on that day you saw him.

In Mei Mei’s bedroom.

While she was naked.

“I’d rather die, asshole.”

Without gifting him another look you storm away. Towards the main building, as far away as possible without anyone being able to follow you.

Fuck, you swore to yourself you are over this shit. You shouldn’t care about him, shouldn’t even feel bothered by looking at him anymore. Only one glance at him and you’re completely losing it? You thought you were better than this, stronger than you were two years ago. But apparently, nothing changed. You’re still crying over someone who betrayed you in the nastiest way possible.

A gentle grasp on your wrist rips you out of your nightmares and catapults you in an even worse one.

“Let go of me”, you hiss through gritted teeth when his bright blue eyes meet yours.

"I definitely won’t make that mistake again. You can run all you want, but you know we need to talk. You can’t keep avoiding this... or me.”

You yank your wrist away with full force when something inside you snaps.

"Talk? About what, Gojo? How you always think you can just waltz back into my life whenever it suits you? I’m done with your games."

„Stop calling me Gojo like we’re strangers. Just hear me out-“

"Strangers? That’s what we are now, Gojo. Whatever we had, it’s over. You don’t get to decide when I listen to you."

Fuck, you hate the way tears start to burn in your eyes, how his sheer presence shakes you right to your core. Truth is, you never stopped loving him. Not even when he abused your trust like he did, not even when you caught him with Mei Mei that day. Until now, your stupid heart didn’t get the message, still clings onto him for dear life.

And it hurts like hell.

Gojo takes a deep breath in and takes a step towards you.

"Please, just listen. That night - it wasn’t what you think. I was trying to protect you, but I messed up by keeping you in the dark. I would never betray you like that. You have to believe me."

"Protect me? I saw you in Mei Mei’s room. If that wasn’t what it looked like, then explain why you were there. Don’t expect me to just forget what I saw and the way it made me feel. As if your fucking words mean everything!"

You lose it completely, your composure, those rough years of keeping you together. In that second, you lose yourself.

“That night she called me because she told me about a special grade curse that was hunting after you. I entered her room just seconds before you stumbled in. If I had known this, that she only tries to entertain herself with spreading that fucking misunderstanding between us, I would have never-“

“Have you any idea how I felt that day? You…You were my life, Satoru! I would have died for you! And you didn’t even care enough to follow me!”, you now cry out seething with emotion

“I thought I was doing the right thing!”, he shouts so roughly that you flinch.

“I thought you needed space, that we’ll talk things out when you didn’t respond countless times. I never thought…that you’d actually believe I was cheating on you! You meant everything to me too, and the thought of losing you, of not even knowing where you were, has been killing me. I’m so sorry for not chasing after you. Until this day, there’s nothing I regret more than giving you space in that fucking moment, I should have fought harder to make things right. Fuck, I missed you every single day since you were gone and it kills me, it fucking kills me I can’t call you mine anymore!”

Are those…tears glistening in his eyes. Is that really Gojo Satoru, standing in front of you, crying?

“Seeing you like this… I don’t know if it makes things better or just harder. Maybe you’re genuinely sorry, but the pain you caused me is real. It’s not something that can be fixed with words or tears alone…”

“Just one kiss.”

He draws closer, the heat of his body paired with his signature perfume now so close that you feel like fainting for a second.

“Give me one kiss and I’ll leave you alone.”

“A kiss?”, you breathe out.

His lips haunted you in your dreams frequently, how they felt pressed against yours and comforted you through everything. You hated how your mind always remembered you of what you’ve lost.

Those kissable lips, that mouth that never failed to make you smile.

But now…a kiss?

"Just one kiss, to remember what we had, to see if there’s still something between us. If it doesn’t change anything, I’ll walk away and give you all the space you need. But if there’s even a spark left… I need to know."

Your mind races as you consider his request with a wave of feelings rushing over you like a tsunami. Memories of your shared moments flood back, the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his touch, and the sweetness of his kisses that used to light up your whole fucking world. But what if he hurts you again? What if all those words are nothing but a filthy little lie to play with you all over?

Your heart pounds while you close your eyes briefly, trying to push through the pain and the intensity of the situation. The idea of that one kiss, despite everything, pulls at your heartstrings. That moment of vulnerability and a chance to confront what’s been haunting her dreams, close enough to touch and feel...

Finally, you open your eyes and nod slowly, your voice barely a whisper.

"One kiss."

Gojo’s eyes soften with a mix of relief and hope as he leans in, his breath warm against your oversensitive and touch-starved skin. His lips meet yours with a gentle, hesitant touch. A bittersweet mixture of longing, regret, and a lingering affection that speaks of all both of you once shared, the feelings that still rise from the ashes between both of you – feelings that never really disappeared. Truth is, you never really stopped loving Gojo Satoru. Even if he shattered your heart into thousands of pieces, even if your heart still aches, you can’t escape his gravity.

Out of instinct, you wrap your longing arms around his neck like you always did, press your body even closer against his. Only that one touch, that one kiss in order to feel that he lied.

But instead, the taste his falling tears on your tongue, feel his desperate hands on your waist. Did…Gojo Satoru miss you as well?

As your lips part, a tear slips down both of your cheeks while heavy breathing fills the cramped room between you.

"From the moment you left, I’ve been lost without you. I thought I could move on, but every day without you has been unbearable. I missed you more than I ever thought possible. I’ve been living in a world where everything reminds me of what we had and what I threw away by not following you that night. I never stopped loving you, not for a single fucking day.

I know I’ve made mistakes and I’ve hurt you in ways I can never fully make up for. But standing here now, feeling your arms around me and knowing that you still care... it’s more than I deserve. I love you, and I’ve always loved you. If there’s any chance for us to rebuild what we had, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I need you to know that my feelings for you have never faded, and they never will.”

You look at him with a mix of longing and hope, your eyes silently asking for what you’re yearning for.

"One more kiss," you whisper,

"just to see if it’s real.”

Toji Fushiguro

Your eyes are focus on the glittery liquid that swirls around in your glass, too focused on the play of color to even listen to that jerk opposite of you.

“(y/n), are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, go on”, you mutter through your hand without even looking up.

To be honest, your dating life has been a mess since that one guy. Dates each and every night, nameless men who cling onto your rock bottom for dear life. Getting showered by meaningless compliment that are supposed to drag you into their beds, the bitter taste of gammahydroxybutyricacid on a regular basis.

Just like now. Liquid ecstasy.

You raise your eyebrows, allow yourself a glimpse at that muscular guy with a face that looks like out of every plastic surgeons dream and that fake rolex around his wrist. As if you’d be dumb enough to actually swallow that shit. But on the other hand, you might as well wait until he spent all his money for you in that way too expensive restaurant before leaving him standing in the rain.

“You have to be the prettiest woman I’ve even seen”, he jeers while grabbing your hand.

You force down that wave of puke that threatens to take you over and put on the sweetest smile you have to offer.

What a loser, honestly. Not even able to read a woman properly.

But none of the men you’ve met since him were.

“Aren’t you thirsty? Don’t you like your drink?”

Yeah, like you’re dumb enough to drink that shit.

“I’d actually like to eat something before drinking. Otherwise, I’m drunk immediately”, you give back oh so innocently.

He lets out a disgusting laughter, his hungry eyes almost pilling you out of your skintight dress. Well, that’s what you get for going on a date with someone who calls himself selfmade CEO of something that has to be another lousy pyramid scheme.

Let’s get this over with.

Your eyes dart around the room aimlessly in order to find a way to escape later on. Unfortunately, the toilets don’t provide a window and as it seems, you won’t be able to escape that main hall. Screw those fancy restaurants and their high alert.

It’s a feeling that crawls up your spine so suddenly that your head yanks to the right out of instinct.

Cold eyes. That scar on the corner of his mouth that flinches when he catches you staring at him.

So familiar cold eyes that you feel like fainting for a second.

It can’t be him, it’s impossible that it’s him-

“Toji?”, you breathe out.

You haven’t seen him since that day.

Since the two of you broke up.

You swore to yourself to never see that man again, moved to Tokyo on order to get lost in the crowd, went on countless dates to fuck his face out of your mind.

But as soon as your eyes land on him, your guts twist just like they did before, a wave of fright washing over your usual so broad back.

“I need to go”, you mutter, not even caring about that douchebag on the other side of the table anymore.

You need to get out of here, need to hide in some lonely corner, need to move to another city. Or another country? It seems like he’ll always find you, no matter where you go.

The cold air of the night hits your face like a wall as you stumble out of the restaurant. Where are you supposed to go? Aimlessly, you haste through the next alley, eyes darting behind you as if you’re haunted.

That toxic fucker, that crazy man who apparently didn’t accept your breakup at all. Toji is no one to be messed with, a maniac when it comes to his toys.

And you are one of those toys. Well, you hope you were.

“Think you can escape me like that?”

The next second, you find yourself pinned against a wall with no way out.

“Let go of me, you freak”, you press out, not even daring to look up at him.

Fuck, you’re absolutely screwed. There’s no way you’ll get out of here like you did last time.

“Is that how you greet the love of your life, huh?”

He grabs your cheek firmly and forces your head towards his.

There they are, those dangerous eyes. Up close, in their full glory.

You feel like puking.

“I don’t love you anymore. You treated me like shit.”

That’s what you told yourself over and over again, literally tattooed on your heart. You can’t love a guy like him, he’ll never give you what you need and want.

“So you’re telling me that guy who wanted to fuck after your blackout is better? Can’t tell me you didn’t notice that loser put something in your drink.”

“It’s none of your business”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Everything that has to do with you is my business, babe. You did a good job hiding from me for a few months. But you can’t escape me”, he mutters against your ear.

His hot breath against your naked and oversensitive skin almost sends you over the edge, forces that knot inside your stomach to start pulsating all over again.

That fucker who knows your body so well. That asshole who plays with your feeling all over again.

“We’ve broke up”, you remind him with unsteady gaze.

“So you have no feelings for me? Hate me? Just because I killed that guy-“

“You killed so many people that I lost count. I can’t do this!”, you blurt out.

“But do you love me?”

Your heart almost pounds out of your chest, sweat now covering your forehead only by looking at him. So many nights, you’ve drank enough to forget your own name.

But you never forgot his.

“Doesn’t matter…”

“So you do.”

Before you’re even able to protest, he lifts you up and cages you against the wall. And your lousy traitor of a body? Wraps your legs around his waist as if none of this ever happened.

“I’ll make it up to you, princess”, he mumbles into the crook of your neck, now placing gentle kisses on your bare skin.

You want to tell him to stop, want to yank your body out of his demanding grasp.

But instead, you let your head fall back and close your eyes.

Fuck, you missed this. You missed him.

“And don’t ya dare to run away from me again. You’re mine.”

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theshiftingwitch · 23 days ago

Text

"I don't want to shift to another reality. I want to manifest my desires here!"

You shift realities everyday.

Realistically speaking, every decision you make has you quantum leaping to a parallel reality. No one questioned this before, until we started calling it shifting and people started associating it with Hogwarts and Magic and Draco Malfoy. (We'll discuss the underlying misogyny that comes with mocking Hogwarts shifters in another post, because it's undeniable at this point. Not to mention the fact that Hogwarts is a cool ass reality and most anti-shifters/ "cool, not like other girls" shifters who hate on it do so simply because it's popular among teenage girls.)

But the truth is, shifting isn't only about grand, drastic changes in reality. It's not only magic and unicorns and dragons, it's also the small jumps we take everyday.

You have probably heard of the "red shirt/blue shirt" explanation, as it's one of the easiest and most popular ways to explain small shifts in reality. But if you haven't, allow me to explain:

Say you're standing in front of your closet, deciding on what to wear today. You reach for your red shirt, put it on, and go on about your day. In another reality, you reached for the blue instead. Another, the black or the yellow or the green. In another, you opted for a dress. See, all of those realities are exactly the same. You're still you, you have the same name, the same face, the same age. Your friends are all the same, your family is the same, your school is the same. The only thing that changed is your shirt. Or taking the bus instead of a cab. Or ordering a mocha latte instead of a frappucino or a matcha drink... Your reality appears to be the same, yet you are shifting constantly with every decision you make.

So what are you so afraid of?

Saying you want to manifest all of your desires "here" without shifting to another reality is an oxymoron. Because you don't know what "here" actually is. You haven't for a long time. You haven't been in the same place or time since the moment you became conscious. Things change around you on a second by second basis, but since the changes are usually so small, you hardly ever notice. Some changes are bigger (the Mandela effect) and so they are noticed by many.

By manifesting your desires, you are simply becoming aware of a reality in which you have what you want. You're not pulling anything to you, you're not creating anything from thin air, you are just becoming aware.

There is nothing to fear when it comes to shifting because it's a skill you have developed since infancy. It's just that now, it has a name and a meaning.

So if the terms and definitions confuse you, drop them. Focus on your awareness and leave everything else behind.

Happy Shifting ❤️

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colouredbyd · 2 months ago

Text

Finding Rest

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: You wake heavy with ache, but no one asks you to explain. They hold you through the silence, through the storm inside you, until the weight begins to lift.

warnings: emotional vulnerability, quiet hurt/comfort, exhaustion, soft intimacy, and themes of safety and healing

wc: 2.1k

a/n: idk why i wrote this tbh. ignore any grammar errors pls english isnt my native language

masterlist

The rain had started before dawn, slow and quiet. A whisper against the windowpanes, soft as breath. Then it deepened, grew fuller, until the sound wrapped itself around the house like a lullaby meant for tired hearts. It was the kind of rain that silences the world without asking, that makes the hours stretch, slow and forgiving. As if the sky itself had grown weary and let its sorrow fall in steady rhythms.

No one wanted to leave the bed. Not today. Not when the world outside felt so far away.

The room stayed dim, quiet in that way that makes you whisper without meaning to. The curtains were only half-drawn, letting in a thin silver light that bled across the floor in soft streaks. It was a kind light, pale and hushed, the kind that touched your skin like a secret rather than setting it aflame. You lay curled at the center of the bed, your body loosely tucked beneath warm sheets, surrounded on all sides by the ones who loved you.

James had dropped his magazine sometime after midnight, the pages fluttering to the floor where it now lay forgotten, a corner bent like a folded wing. Sirius hadn’t moved much since then. He sat by the window still, barefoot and cross-legged in a sweater that probably used to be Remus’s, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He had not said much all morning. He just watched, the rain blurring against the glass, the quiet way you breathed, the little movements that passed between you all like soft tides. The twitch of fingers. The sigh of cotton. The warmth of skin finding skin again.

Behind you, Remus pressed in close, chest to your back, solid and warm and breathing slow. His hand had been stroking your spine in slow, careful circles that never faltered, each one tender and grounding, as if reminding you he was there without needing to be asked. There was no rush in his touch. No question in it. Just presence.

In front of you, James curled on his side, his fingers tangled loosely with yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles like a lullaby all its own. His eyes, soft and half-lidded, never left your face. He looked at you like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be. Like stillness was enough.

A quiet passed. Comfortable. Familiar. Then Sirius spoke.

"You haven’t said much," he murmured from the window. His voice was just above the sound of the rain, like he didn’t want to disturb the air too much. "What’s in your head?"

You blinked, slowly, as if waking up inside a dream. You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you turned your face slightly toward James, who squeezed your hand without needing to speak. Remus’s fingers paused at the base of your spine, not gone, just waiting.

"Nothing," you whispered, after a long breath. "And everything."

The words hung in the room like mist, not heavy, just there.

Sirius tilted his head. "That sounds like something I’d say."

"Maybe you’re rubbing off on me," you replied, your voice softer than before, almost shy.

A beat passed. Then Remus let out a quiet chuckle, the sound rumbling against your back like thunder in the distance.

"Poor thing," he said gently, mouth near your ear. "Imagine being haunted by Sirius Black’s inner monologue."

Sirius huffed. "I am poetry and lightning, thank you very much."

"You are chaos and coffee stains," James said, lips curving against your knuckles.

"And you," Sirius said, pointing lazily toward him, "are clingier than my favorite jumper."

"I wear that jumper," Remus murmured, eyes closed.

"I know. And it looks better on you."

You smiled, faint but real, and the rain kept falling.

You shifted beneath the blankets, the weight of the silence stretching softly around you. You weren’t sure how to answer. There wasn’t a name for what you felt, not really. It wasn’t sadness, not entirely. It was something quieter, more elusive. A tiredness that settled into your bones and made a home there. The kind of tired that curled into the spaces between your ribs and pressed against your lungs when you tried to breathe too deep. The kind that made your throat ache, not from crying, but from holding everything in for too long.

You didn’t feel broken. Just full. Overfull. Of thoughts. Of noise. Of quiet things that hurt in ways words could not quite reach.

Your heart felt too heavy for your chest, even with their arms around you, even with the way they held you like you were something weightless. A drifting thing they refused to let go.

James raised your joined hands and brought them to his mouth, brushing a kiss across your knuckles so gently it felt like a promise. His voice was low when he spoke, almost reverent.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he said. “We’re good at silence, too.”

That was the thing. They always knew. Always. You never had to explain the ache. You never had to force your hurt into sentences. They didn’t ask for reasons or resolutions. They simply made space. Soft, patient, sacred space.

Behind you, Remus shifted. His arm slipped more securely around your waist, pulling you back into his chest, anchoring you. His breath was warm against your shoulder when he spoke.

“You’ve been running on empty,” he murmured, quiet and steady. “We see it. You don’t have to keep pretending to be alright. Not here. Not with us.”

Something inside your chest cracked, quiet and sharp, like a brittle seam splitting open. Not enough to break. Just enough to let a little of the weight spill out. Just enough to breathe through.

“I don’t know how to rest anymore,” you whispered. The words trembled out, rough-edged and unsteady. “I’ve forgotten how to stop.”

It came out broken, fragile in its honesty. But they didn’t flinch. None of them did.

Sirius was still at the window, but his eyes found yours, soft and serious. He moved, rising slowly, and crossed the room without a sound. The bed dipped as he joined, slipping in beside James, beside you. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, fingertips lingering as if trying to smooth the worry from your skin.

“Then we’ll teach you,” he said simply. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

“We’ll show you how to be still,” Remus added, his lips pressing to the back of your neck.

“And how to breathe again,” James whispered, as if each word was a key.

They didn’t try to fix you. They just stayed. Wrapped around you like warmth. Like quiet. Like home.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the ache inside you began to loosen.

Sirius was by the bed now, kneeling beside you, brushing hair away from your face like you were something precious. His eyes were tired too, but they were soft. Steady. His thumb traced the edge of your jaw and he gave you a look that said you didn’t have to try so hard.

“You don’t have to know,” he said softly, his voice low and steady, like a promise. “We’ll remind you.”

James tugged your joined hands against his chest, the beat of his heart a steady rhythm beneath your palm. It grounded you. The soft pressure of his fingers holding yours, the warmth of his skin, it was a quiet reassurance that you didn’t have to carry anything alone. Not now. Not ever.

Behind you, Remus nestled closer, burying his face in the back of your neck. His breath was warm, slow, like he was drawing calm from the simple act of holding you. His arms tightened, pulling you deeper into the curve of his chest. It felt like he was trying to merge with you, to give you all the peace that he could.

“I just want to feel safe,” you whispered, the vulnerability raw in your voice, the weight of your confession settling heavily in the space between you. “I want to stop bracing for everything to fall apart.”

James didn’t hesitate. There was no pause, no uncertainty in his voice when he spoke, just the unwavering conviction you always found in him. “Then let it fall,” he said softly. “We’ll catch you.”

The words hung there, soft and unspoken, yet louder than anything else in the world. It was a promise, not just from James, but from all of them. A promise that no matter how much the world might crumble around you, they would be there. They would be the soft place to land. The arms that would hold you when you were too tired to hold yourself.

You could have cried. You could have let the weight of everything finally break free. But right then, all you could do was sink. Sink into the softness of the bed, into the embrace of them. Sink into the way their bodies curved around yours like protection, like a shelter from everything that had been too much for so long.

Time seemed to stretch. No one moved. The room was quiet except for the soft, rhythmic patter of rain against the windows, its soothing sound a lullaby to the stillness of the moment. The air smelled like rain, fresh and grounding, and the cotton of the blankets wrapped around you all felt like a gentle cocoon.

Sirius, who had been watching from his quiet corner by the window, finally shifted. He pulled the blankets higher over all of you, making sure you were all tucked in, all safe. Then, he slipped into the space behind Remus, his body folding in beside yours. His hand found yours over Remus’s hip, fingers interlacing with yours in a silent gesture, a reassurance that he was there too.

You were cradled now, surrounded. Protected on all sides, enveloped by the warmth of their bodies, the steady rhythm of their breaths. Worn, yes, but in a way that felt tender. Like all the weight you carried, all the things you couldn’t say, could be let go here. In this moment. With them.

And for once, there was no need to fight it. No need to brace yourself for the inevitable. In the quiet embrace of the rain and the steady presence of them, you were simply allowed to be. Just as you were. And that was enough.

“I love you,” Remus murmured, his voice barely louder than a whisper. It was a promise, but also something deeper—something that had always been true, even in the quietest moments. His breath was warm against your skin, and the words settled into the spaces between you all, as if he were saying something you had known forever, but hearing it again still made your heart flutter.

You felt it again, a soft pressure against your fingers, and James’s voice, gentle and unwavering. “I love you.”

And then, Sirius. His voice was a breath against your hair, the sound of it curling around you like an embrace. “More than I ever thought I could.”

You didn’t need to speak, not in this moment. There were no words left to say, nothing more to explain. You didn’t say it back—because you didn’t have to. Instead, you reached out, your hand moving across the warmth of Remus’s arm to James, and then to Sirius, until your fingers were threaded through all of theirs. One by one, your hands tangled together, and in that quiet, simple act, you found something far more powerful than any words could express.

You were anchored. Not by promises or declarations, but by the warmth of their touch. By the way their presence surrounded you, not asking anything from you but simply being. Just being there.

Outside, the rain continued its steady fall, each drop a soft patter against the roof, a quiet rhythm that blended into the silence of the room. You had been bracing for the storm, for the crash of it all. But now, you didn’t need to. You didn’t have to fear the rain, or the world outside, because in this little space, you were held.

You let the rain wash over the roof and the windows, a lullaby in grey. Its song was soft, gentle, and you let it carry you deeper into the moment, into the peace you had forgotten existed. The outside world could be as loud as it wanted, as harsh as it could be, but you were safe here. In their arms. In the quiet embrace of love that needed no explanation.

And slowly, finally, you allowed yourself to rest. Completely. Without the weight of expectation, without the pressure of what was next. Just in the here, and the now, where you could feel safe. Held. And, for once, simply… enough.

#poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders x reader fluff #james potter angst #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x reader #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #james potter x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders x reader #marauders

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solxamber · 9 months ago

Note

Hiiii so I really liked your unhinged reader x Leona fic and I just saw your post about mal and vil

If you have the time, could you do the same thing for mal and/or vil?

Vil and Malleus with an Unhinged reader

thanks for the request <3 it's always fun writing for mal and vil!

Vil Schoenheit

Vil Schoenheit prided himself on his poise. He prided himself on his grace, his refinement, his ability to maintain control in any situation.

And then there was you.

A walking, talking whirlwind of chaos with absolutely no regard for personal safety or the consequences of your actions. You had this thing—this habit—of showing up wherever Vil was, just appearing out of thin air like a feral cat who found a way into the palace.

“Vil!” you called, striding confidently into the Pomefiore lounge one afternoon, without a care for the looks you were getting from the perfectly groomed students. “Guess what I did today?”

Vil didn’t look up from his tea. “Do I even want to know?”

You, with the biggest grin on your face, flopped into the chair across from him like it was a casual meeting and not the sanctum of beauty and refinement. “Okay, so. Hear me out.”

“No.”

Ignoring him completely, you launched into your story. “So I was in the botanical gardens, right? And I saw this big, fancy plant, and I thought, ‘What if I just… take it?’ You know, for science or something.”

Vil lowered his tea slowly, eyeing you like you’d just declared you were going to break into a highly secured vault for fun. “You what?”

“I took it! It’s in my bag!” You looked so proud of yourself as you patted your bag. “I was thinking it’d look great in your room.”

Vil blinked at you, mouth slightly open, as his brain struggled to process the sheer absurdity of the situation. “You stole a plant? From the botanical gardens? For me?”

“Yup! Because you like pretty things, right?”

A strangled sound came from Rook, who had been quietly observing the conversation. Vil shot him a glare to silence him before returning his attention to you. “Let me get this straight,” Vil said slowly, carefully, as though speaking too quickly would cause his head to explode. “You, with absolutely no regard for rules or consequences, took a rare and likely highly poisonous plant, stuffed it into your bag, and brought it to me?”

You blinked innocently. “It’s poisonous? Huh. Well, that explains the rash.”

Vil’s hands went to his temples as he let out a long, pained sigh. “You have a death wish, don’t you?”

“Pfft, nah. I just get bored.”

There it was. The sentence that encapsulated everything about you—no self-preservation, questionable morals, and an insatiable hunger for something, anything, to entertain you.

Vil leaned back in his chair, staring at you as though trying to comprehend how someone like you even existed. “Do you realize how dangerous that is? How reckless? How utterly insane?”

You shrugged. “Danger is subjective, really. And anyway, you’ve faced worse in your overblot, right? At least I didn’t curse anyone.”

“That’s not the point!” Vil snapped, standing abruptly and fixing you with a glare so intense it could wilt your newly acquired plant. “You’re acting like an absolute menace!”

“And yet,” you said, leaning forward with a grin that could only be described as unhinged, “you still keep letting me hang around.”

Vil opened his mouth to retort but stopped. He couldn’t deny it. No matter how infuriating you were, no matter how many ridiculous situations you threw yourself into, he never really tried to distance himself. Sure, he scolded you, lectured you about proper behavior and responsibility, but at the end of the day, you were still there, waltzing into his life like you owned it.

“And,” you added, leaning even closer, “you can’t deny that you like it. Admit it. You’d be bored without me.”

Vil scoffed, turning his nose up. “As if. I have plenty of things to occupy my time.”

You tilted your head, that same manic gleam in your eye. “Oh really? Then why haven’t you kicked me out yet?”

Vil’s eye twitched. You had him there. He could list a dozen reasons why you were the worst—your lack of decorum, your disregard for rules, your baffling ability to be where you weren’t supposed to be—but at the same time, you were… fun. Infuriating, yes, but you always kept him on his toes. You were different from the people who usually fawned over him, who tried to impress him. You didn’t care about any of that. You just did whatever you wanted.

He took a deep breath and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Fine. I’ll admit it. You’re… amusing, in a way.”

You grinned wider. “See? I knew you liked me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Vil said quickly, trying to maintain his composure. “You’re a menace to society and a walking disaster waiting to happen. But…” His voice dropped to a soft murmur, “you’re not entirely unbearable.”

“Wow, that’s practically a love confession coming from you,” you teased, still beaming like you’d won some sort of grand prize.

Vil turned away to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Don’t get any ideas. I simply tolerate your existence.”

“Tolerate it all you want,” you said with a wink. “But I’m still going to hang around and cause chaos.”

Vil rubbed his temples again, as though trying to stave off the headache you were undoubtedly giving him. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Liar,” you sing-songed.

He glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it. “One day, you’re going to get yourself killed. Or worse—ruin my skincare routine.”

You laughed, pulling the now-wilting plant out of your bag. “Wanna help me plant this in the dorm garden?”

Vil stared at you in disbelief. “No. Absolutely not.”

“You say that now, but I’ll grow on you. Just like this plant.”

“I am going to bury you and that plant together.”

You winked. “As long as I’m with you, Vil.”

Vil groaned, but he didn’t kick you out, didn’t storm off in disgust. And somehow, that was all the confirmation you needed.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus Draconia, prince of Briar Valley, feared and revered by many, could handle just about anything. He’d faced fierce enemies, commanded respect with just a glance, and maintained an air of elegance befitting his royal status.

And then there was you.

You, with your complete and utter lack of self-preservation. You, who seemed to treat life like an ongoing game of “how can I make the Grim Reaper quit?” You, who treated Malleus Draconia like just another guy in your chaotic orbit.

“Tsunotarou!” You barreled toward him one evening, skidding to a halt at the last second, as if barely remembering that you shouldn’t throw yourself headfirst into the chest of a centuries-old fae prince. “You’ll never guess what I did!”

Malleus blinked, tilting his head in curiosity. “What have you done this time, Child of Man?”

You grinned like a cat who’d eaten the canary. “I may or may not have… accidentally started a small fire in the potionology lab.”

Malleus’s eyes widened slightly, though he remained composed. “A fire? Are you unharmed?”

“Oh yeah, I’m totally fine! But Crewel’s coat definitely wasn’t. That thing went up in flames like it was soaked in gasoline.” You waved your hand dismissively, like setting your teacher’s coat on fire was a normal Monday activity.

Malleus stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he let out a soft chuckle. “You are truly fearless, aren’t you?”

“I like to think of it as ‘enthusiastically living life without regrets,’” you replied, crossing your arms proudly. “Besides, if something goes wrong, I have you to bail me out.”

“Do you intend to make a habit of relying on me to prevent your untimely demise?” Malleus asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You shrugged. “I mean, if the shoe fits. You’re like my own personal dragon-shaped safety net.”

Malleus blinked. “I am not a net, Child of Man.”

“No, no,” you waved off his literal interpretation. “You’re like the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card. Like, if I almost die doing something dumb, you’ll just bring me back, right?”

Malleus paused, tilting his head again, as if genuinely pondering your question. “I could… but do you not fear death?”

“Nah. It’s not that big of a deal.” You grinned, clearly thrilled by the look of confusion that passed over his normally composed face. “Besides, it’s boring to worry about things like that.”

Malleus stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if trying to comprehend how you could be so nonchalant about life-threatening situations. He was used to dealing with those who were cautious around him, who feared his power or treated him with excessive reverence. And then there was you—just casually asking him if he could resurrect you after you threw yourself into danger like it was a sport.

“What am I to do with you?” Malleus mused, more to himself than to you.

You perked up. “Take me on a super dangerous adventure?”

Malleus blinked. “I was thinking more along the lines of keeping you out of danger.”

“But that’s boring!” You leaned forward, poking his chest with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, big guy, don’t you ever just wanna go wild? Let loose? Maybe blow up a tower or two for funsies?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “Blow up a tower?”

“Yeah! Like a good ol’ fashioned castle demolition!” You threw your hands up in the air like you were some kind of crazed architect.

Malleus let out a soft sigh, but there was an undeniable hint of fondness in his gaze. “I believe we have different definitions of fun.”

“And that’s exactly why you need me,” you said with a grin. “You need some excitement in your life! Can’t just sit around being all broody and regal all the time.”

Malleus looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his emerald eyes. “You are… quite unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

You beamed. “That’s because I’m awesome.”

“That is certainly one word for it,” Malleus said, suppressing a smile.

“And you like that about me,” you teased, leaning even closer with zero respect for the concept of personal space. “Admit it. You enjoy the chaos I bring into your life.”

Malleus chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “It is… refreshing.”

“Ha! I knew it!” You jabbed a finger at him. “You love my reckless, devil-may-care attitude!”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it love…” Malleus started, but you were already on a roll.

“Face it, Tsunotarou! You’re absolutely smitten with my chaotic energy.”

Malleus watched you with that same fond amusement, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “You are certainly… something,” he said, his voice soft, yet filled with warmth.

“And don’t you forget it!” You twirled dramatically, like you’d just won some invisible competition. “Now, let’s go scare some people in the hallways. We’ll use your glowing eyes and spooky fae vibes to freak everyone out.”

Malleus sighed again but stood up, towering over you with a resigned yet playful expression. “If I agree to this madness, will you at least promise not to throw yourself into any more dangerous situations today?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. No promises, but I’ll try.”

“That is the best I can hope for, it seems,” Malleus murmured, shaking his head with an affectionate smile.

As you grabbed his hand and began to drag him toward your latest scheme, Malleus couldn’t help but think that, for all your recklessness and lack of self-preservation, you brought a kind of chaos into his life that he hadn’t realized he was missing.

And strangely enough, he didn’t mind it.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus #malleus draconia #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x you #vil #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #malleus x you

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arc-misadventures · 5 months ago

Text

What Are You Doing Here?

A thin. twig of a man was walking the streets of, Mantle. A grey hood covered his head as he tried to remain unseen. He was here on a mission, a very important mission. One that if he was caught would cause untold amount of suffering, and damage. But, he would be willing to fight to complete his mission. And, nothing was going to stop him!

Except for a six foot six, blond hair specialist grabbing him by the back of his hoodie holding him aloft as he hopelessly kicked his feet in the air.

: GRAHH?! Let go of me go!

: Only if you explain what you're doing here?

: I-It doesn't concern you, Jaune!

Jaune Arc, on another one of his patrols in, Mantle after the ballot boxes were delivered to another community halls for the upcoming vote. But, his patrol was brought to an abrupt detour when he stumbled upon a most unexpected sight.

The sole male heir of the, Schnee family. Whitely Schnee out on a leisurely stroll.

Jaune: Doesn't concern me?! Oh yeah, Winter's gonna love the fact I told her: 'Hey, Winter I saw your little brother down in, Mantle! I don't know what he was doing, I just left him alone!'

Jaune: Do you have any idea what she would do to me if I told her that, Whit?!

Whitely: Then don't tell her!

Jaune: Are you trying to get me killed?!

Whitely: This doesn't concern you! Let me go!

Jaune: Whitely... Tell me what's happening, or I'll tell, Willow you're down here...

Whitely stopped struggling in, Jaune's grasp, his whole body going limp as he comprehended his threat.

Whitely: Okay... Okay, I'll tell you why I'm here. But, please... don't tell my mom...

Jaune: Smart lad.

Jaune dropped, Whitely who straightened out his clothes before turning to face, Jaune keeping his hoodie over his head to hid his identity, and his highly recognizable heir from any passers by.

Whitely: I'm here, because I am going to a rally that's being held today.

Jaune: A rally? One of the political rallies?

Whitely: Y-Yeah...

Jaune: Who's rally? The election is in a two days, there's five rally's happening right now. Who are you making your way to, Whit?

Whitely: ...

Whitely: I'm... I'm heading to, Robyn Hill's rally...

Jaune: Robyn Hill?! Why the hell are you going there?

Whitely: I-I have my reasons...

Jaune: You better tell me, because seriously, Whit... I can think of many reasons for why you wouldn't go there, but I can't think of a single reason why you would want to go there.

Whitely: Oh yeah?! What reasons could you think of!

Jaune: You're, Jacques Schnee's son, you're the heir to the Schnee Dust Company, and it's fortune. You're part of the uppermost class of the, Atlasian Elite, so why are you of all people, even associating with the 'lower class.'

Whitely: You know I'm nothing like my father! And, while the others are true... B-But, I don't think I'm better than everyone else!

Jaune: Just richer than them?

Whitely: Okay... t-that's... that's a fact. You can't use that against me!

Jaune: Yes, I can, and will.

Whitely: Okay, I know it may seem that I don't care for the 'common folk,' but Mom, and I are trying to make things better for people. Higher wages, better medical, dental, family, and a slew of other benefits! We're becoming less of a monopoly! We're doing so many things that is helping all of, Atlas, and Mantle!

Jaune: Yes, you told me that when I was over for dinner with you, and Willow the other day. And, that's all well, and good, but why are you going to one of, Robyn's Hill's rally?

Whitely: I'm not going to tell you anything!

Whitely stared defiantly at, Jaune. His stance solid, and defiant to the world, and the threat a seasoned, Specialist could offer to an auraless civilian. But, Jaune would teach him the futility of his defiance.

Jaune pulled out his scroll, and hit a few buttons, and hold it in front of, Whitely, his finger hovering over a button.

Jaune: You tell me why you're going to a rally for, Robyn Hill right now, or I swear I'll call your sister here right now.

Whitely: You think I'm scared of, Weiss?!

Jaune: Who said I was going to call, Weiss?

Whitely: ...?!

Whitely: Y-You wouldn't... You wouldn't dare...?

Jaune: Whit... the question you should be asking isn't whether, or not I'll do it. But, how fast, Winter will get down here to pick you up.

Whitely's eyes bugged out as he dry swallowed as he took in the essence of, Jaune's threat.

Whitely: ...

Whitely: I-I... I'm... I'm going to...

Jaune: Going to what?

Whitely: I'mgoingto,RobynHill'srallytoseemycrush!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Beg pardon?

Whitely: I'm going to, Robyn Hill's rally to see my crush...

Jaune: You're crush... You have a crush...?

Jaune: It better not be, Robyn Hill, because she's claimed me...

Whitely: What, no It's not her...? Wait, I thought, Winter claimed you?

Jaune: I'm stuck between a love triangle that the two of them will fight tooth, and nail over who gets to have me.

Whitely: Okay...?

Jaune: If it's not, Robyn then who is it?

Whitely: I-I'll tell you who it is... but, only if you take me there to see her!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Okay... but we're going to get you a took first. You look like a hoodlum looking like that.

Whitely: I'm not a hoodlum!

Jaune: That's a shame, you'd have more personality if you were...

Whitely: Hey!

~~~

Now the pair were at, Robyn Hill's rally the last one being held before the election. Whitely now had a nice burnt red took on his head, hiding his easily identifiable snow white hair.

Jaune was keeping his eye's on, Whitely, waiting for him to react to anything, or more importantly who was the one, Whitely had a crush on. And, the way he watched, Whitely's body stiffen, and his breath left him, and the way his cheeks became red. He knew who ever they were had appeared. And, he was most surprised for who it was,

Jaune: Wait... Fiona... Fiona Thyme?! That's your secret crush?!

Whitely: SHHHH! Don't say that out loud!

Jaune: Okay... I have so many questions... But, first off... she's twenty four, Fiona's at lease a decade older than you.

Whitely: What? I'm not fourteen, I'm seventeen years old, Jaune!

Jaune: ...

Jaune's eyes blink in bewilderment as he looked at, Whitely. Jaune proceed to grab, Whitely by the scuff of, Whitely's hoodie, and lifted him up into the air with one hand. Jaune held out his arm straight, and shook, Whitely in the air, watching his feet dangle effortlessly in the air before setting him down.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Okay... We're changing your diet: More meats, and more protein, as well as getting you on a exercise regime. We need to put more meat on you, cause otherwise people will think you're a legal shouta.

Whitely: ...

Whitely: Okay...

Whitely: But, what about you! Winter's twenty five years old! And, you're...

Jaune: Nineteen.

Whitely: Nineteen! That's a six year difference!

Jaune: Compared to a seven year difference... No... Okay, look... It's not that bad, but it's not that good either. I just thought you were younger then you actually are. Seriously, we need to put some meat on your chicken legs.

Whitely: Shut up...

Jaune: But, why do you like her? I mean... You like, Fiona? I thought you didn't like faunas, she's a sheep faunas.

Whitely: I didn't... N-Not anymore... That was just my father's influence, I'm not like that anymore. I just saw her from a distance, and... I just fell for her... I think she's beautiful.

Jaune: Love at first sight...?

Whitely: Y-Yeah... you could say that...

Jaune: Oh gods...

Jaune: Have you talked to her?

Whitely: N-No... She's a, Huntress, a Happy Huntress, and a faunas. And, I'm...

Jaune: Whitely Schnee... son of the enemy of all faunas... Jacques Schnee...?

Whitely: Yeah...

Jaune: Damn... The decks already stacked against you, and you're not even at the table...

Whitely: She'd probably spit in my face just walking over to her.

Jaune: Give her some credit, Whit. Fiona's not like that, if you were an ass she'd punch you in the face. She's too classy to spit in your face.

Whitely: H-How do you know that... H-Have you talked to her?!

Jaune: A few times.

Whitely: Can you introduce me to her?!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Haaa...

Jaune: Please don't make me regret doing this, Whit...

Whitely: Yes! Thank you big bro!

Jaune: Don't you call me that!

Whitely: Sorry...

~~~

Robyn: Hello, Specialist Arc... What brings you here this day, General Ironwood send you to complain about my running for election again.

Jaune: Drop the act, Robyn. Whit knows that I'm the prize in your competition thingy against, Winter.

Robyn: Oh... wait, who is that, Whit fellow?

Jaune: Just a friend I'm wingmanning for...

Robyn: Okay...? And, this, Whit fellow... has a thing for, Fiona...?

Jaune: Yeah, it's a love of first sight, kind of thing...

Robyn: Seriously...?

Jaune: It's also the first crush for the kid... teenager...Give him some slack, okay?

Robyn: Why are you doing this?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I'm a romantic?

Robyn: You don't sound so sure about that...

Jaune: I've somehow managed to snagged three extremely hot badass warrior babes by being myself; I'm not sure about a lot of things!

Robyn: Three... Is there another woman I should be worried about?

Jaune: No. She's dead...

Robyn: Oh... I-I'm sorry, Jaune. I didn't mean...

Jaune: Stop, I would prefer not to talk about it. Let's just watch, Whit, and see how he'll do.

Robyn: O-Okay...

~~~

Walking up to, Fiona Thyme, Whitely was having a panic attack in his head. He was a seventeen year old kid, talking with his first crush, who happened to by a, Happy Huntress, and a faunas. He was the enemy of everything she no doubt stood for, because of his fathering was, Jacques Schnee.

But, like, Jaune told him: "You'll regret not telling her more than you will be for putting your foot in your mouth."

He just hopped he wouldn't put his foot so deep in his mouth.

~~~

Whitely: H-Hi!

Fiona stopped to looked at the kid standing before her, an inch smaller than her. He wore a a grey hoodie, and grey blue jeans, black sneakers, and a burnt red took. Fiona thought this... civilian looked nice, her certainly had nice icy blue eyes, but why is he talking to her, Robyn was right there after all?

Fiona: Hello...?

Whitely: Hi! Uhhh...? M-My name is...

Whitely's eyes darted around nervously, if he introduced himself as who he pretending to be, Whit, she'd probably ignore him. But, if he suddenly popped it on her that he was actually, Whitely Schnee, like he was embarrassed to be seen with her, because who he was. Fiona would probably, rightfully so, deck him in the face.

Whitely: My name is, Whitely... Whitely Schnee...

Whitely pulled off his burnt red took, showing off his snow white hair. He gave, Fiona a nervous smile, meanwhile, Fiona was staring at him wild eyed. Fiona's voice escaped her as her mind struggled to comprehend what it was standing before her.

Robyn: Wait, hold on...?! That's, Whitely Schnee?!

Jaune: Yes, and quiet!

Fiona: Whitely Schnee... Son of, Jacques Schnee...?

Whitely: Y-Yeah... That's me...

Fiona: Okay... W-What are you doing down here...?

Whitely: Down here in, Mantle? Did you not expect someone like me to be here?

Fiona: Uhh... yeah... For several reasons that.

Whitely: W-What reasons?

Fiona: You're, Whitely Schnee, son of, Jacques Schnee...

Whitely: That I am......

Fiona: What's a rich boy doing down her in the slums?

Whitely: This...? There are no slums in, Mantle?

Fiona: And, why are you an, faunas racist talking to a faunas?

Whitely: ...

Jaune: Oh shit...

Robyn: Wait... you said, wingmanning... Does, Whitely...?!

Whitely: I... I may have had such opinions... But, they weren't solely baseless, and my idea...

Fiona: Baseless? What do you mean by that?

Whitely: My father was the enemy of all faunas... And, he made faunas his enemy, blamed them for a lot of his problems, and he even forced a lot of these problems he caused on them. So, I can understand their hate for me, and my father. And, I can understand why they all think that I'm a carbon copy of my father. But, I'm not my father!

Fiona: And, why do you say that?

Whitely: I did agree with my father, and his opinions of faunas. Not all faunas, just those of the, White Fang...

Fiona: The White Fang?

Whitely: You probably heard how they were 'freedom fighters,' fighting for faunas rights... You tell me to believe that is the truth when your mother's shielding your eyes so you don't see the dismembered body of your cousin. You didn't see your father absolutely loose it when one of the dust shipments got attacked by the, White Fang, and he took out his anger on your mother...

Whitely: I don't hate the faunas, Fiona. I hate the, White Fang, because of what they did to me, and my family... My father... Jacques would hate you for being a faunas. Me...? I'm... I'm not my father. Like he would ever have a crush on a cute sheep faunas anyway...

Fiona looked at, Whitely. She was feeling down, she was judging him based on his linage, often something others did to her because she was a faunas. He couldn't control being, Jacques Schnee's son, but he did control who he choose to become. Besides, it's like he said: It's not like, Jacques Schnee would ever have a crush on a cute sheep...?!

Fiona: W-W-Wait?! 'A crush on a cute sheep faunas?!' Do you have a crush on me?!

Whitely: AHH?! Oh shit... I didn't mean to tell you that?!

Robyn: Holy shit?!

May: The, Schnee kid has a crush on, Fiona?!

Joanna: And, is, Fiona blushing?!

Jaune: Well this isn't how you'd want things to go... but, I did worse, so...?

Fiona: YOU DO?!

Whitely: I snuck into one of, Robyn Hill's political rallies, and saw you! And, I fell for you the moment I laid my eyes upon you!

Fiona: Love at first sight?!

Jaune: Going for broke eh, Whit?

Robyn: Somebody please tell me you're recording this?!

Joanna: From the moment I came here!

May: I've been taking photos!

Whitely: S-So, Fiona Thyme! Will you please go out with me?!

Fiona: O-O-Oh... W-Well... I'm too old for you... I mean, a thirteen year old going out with a twenty three year old... That's...?

Whitely: Seventeen!

Fiona: W-What?

Whitely: I'm seventeen years old... Jaune's going to put me on an excursive regium, and a new diet to bulk up so I stop looking like... like a kid... S-So, it's just a six year difference... So, c-could we...?

Fiona: ...

Fiona: D-Do you want to go on a date now...? Cause... I'm going to be busy the next few days... election stuff... So, I don't know if I'll be able to...

Whitely: Yes!

Fiona: Eep?!

Whitely: Sorry, I meant to say, yes.

Fiona: That's great!

Whitely: But, uhh... I don't know any of the restaurants around here... How about you take us to a nice one, where we can chat, and get to know one another better. My treat.

Fiona: I'd like that. Come on, Whitely.

Whitely: J-Just call me, Whit. Otherwise people might...

Fiona: Okay, Whit.

Fiona waited by the door as, Whitely put on his took, and ran up to, Fiona. the pair had matching smiles, and small blushes on their faces as they left on their date.

From the distance the group of, Huntresses, and the Specialist all cooed from the corner as they watched them leave together.

Robyn: Wow... out of all the things I expected today... Whitely Schnee asking, Fiona on a date, and her accepting it is the last thing I'd ever expected.

May: But, they look so cute together! Especially with, Fiona being just one inch taller than him!

Jaune: May, I'm going to need those photos, and that video, Joanna. Evidence for... for things...

Joanna: You got it!

Jaune: Hahaha! Willow's gonna love this!

Robyn: Hey, Jaune? How come you've never taken me out on a date before?

Jaune: Because, I'm too busy to go on a date with any of you! Winter's too busy going on a date with, because she's busy being a, Specialist. You're too busy being a politician to go on a date, Robyn. And, I'm too busy being playing both sides to get you elected, and manipulating, General Ironwood to get what needs to be done! Which is dragging everyone away from his stupid project, that if he finds out what I've done, he'll probably shoot me for treason!

May: Y-Your kidding, right...?

Jaune: No. No I am not.

Robyn, and her, Happy Huntresses all looked at, Jaune, and took in the dead seriousness in his eyes. Robyn placed her hand on him, activating her semblance showing it off in a vibrant green hue.

Joanna: Holy shit, he's telling the truth...

Jaune: Oi?!

(Slap!)

Robyn: Ow!

Jaune: None of that!

Robyn: How mean... How could you do that to such a delicate maiden~?

Jaune: If you used your semblances on yourself it would be as red as blood for saying that.

Robyn: Hey!

Jaune: Alright, I need to go back, my shift is almost over, and I need to file in a report. I'll see you later ladies.

May: Bye, Jaune.

Joanna: See you later, Jaune.

Jaune: Oh, before I go... Robyn?

Robyn: Yea... MPHH?!

Jaune grabbed, Robyn's chin, and pulled her in for a kiss. He pushed his lips upon her, causing, Robyn to moan deeply within her throat, causing her to gasp for air as he broke their kiss.

Jaune: Consider that an IOU for a real date.

Robyn: O-Okay...

Jaune: Well then, till later then, my Lady.

Jaune turned, and left the, Happy Huntresses 'secret' base. Leaving a panting, and blush stricken, Robyn with a hand upon her chest as she watched her, Knight leave.

Robyn: Oh gods~!

May: Oh shit... she's got it bad...

Joanna: She's got it really bad!

May: It's fucking adorable.

Joanna: So adorable.

~~~

One of the back doors to the, Schnee manor slowly opened, and closed as a skinny twig snuck it's way inside. It stealthily made it's way to a room in the house. As it reached the door to the room, it quietly opened the door, before slowly shutting it behind him. A tired sigh with a hint of joy escaped his lips. He turned on the lights to the room, turned around, and screamed.

: AHHHHHH?!?!

: Hello, Whitely...

Whitely: M-Mom?! What are you doing in my room?!

Willow: The better question is; Why are you home so late?

Whitely: Wha... I'm not late...

Willow: It's, 3:32 am...

Whitely: T-That's not so late...

Willow: Whitely you've complained that it's too late, and you need to head to bed at 9 pm. You have never once stay out so late before. So, where were you?

Whitely: I-I-I was out... w-with friends...

Willow: You don't have any friends.

Whitely: I just recently met them...

Willow: And, you were hanging out with these friends of yours... so late because...?

Whitely: W-We were just having so much fun we lost track of time...

Willow: And, did you have 'fun' with this friend?

Whitely: We just talked, we didn't do anything... uncouth...

Willow: But, would you have if you could?

Whitely: It was a first date, you don't do anything like that until the third...

Willow: So it was a date~?

Whitely: Grkk?!

Willow: So tell me, who was it that you were on this date with?

Whitely: I-I don't have to tell you anything!

Willow: Whitely... I am your mother, you will tell me about this sheep girl you were seeing...

Whitely: Wha... how did you know she was a sheep faunas?!

Willow: Because, Jaune told me.

Whitely: That traitor! Why did he tell you?!

Willow: Because you took so long, and for the record, Jaune didn't actually tell me.

Whitely: He didn't, then who did?

: I did.

Whitely: AHHHH?!

The chair to, Whitely's desk turned around to show a very irate Winter Schnee staring back at him.

Whitely: W-W-Winter?! When did you get here?!

Winter: Oh, a while after mother told me you weren't home. And, a few minutes after I interrogated, Jaune about who you were with. So, tell me, Whitely... Why were you on a date with, Fiona Thyme. A member of the, Happy Huntresses?

Whitely: I-I-I...?! I can explain!

Willow: I always knew you liked lamb, but to like it in such a manner~?

Whitely: I-I don't like it in that manner... Well, Fiona is...I don't mean!

Winter: Start talking, Whitely...

Willow: Yes, mother want's to hear everything about your little date~!

Whitely: Ohhhhh...!

Whitely: Shit...

#rwby #jaune arc #winter schnee #willow schnee #whitely schnee #james ironwood #robyn hiil #joanna greenleaf #fiona thyme #may marigold #jaune x robyn #robyn x jaune #rwby sherwood knight #weiss schnee

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.)

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section.

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true.

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom.

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight.

You look tired, too.

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess.

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas.

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky.

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops.

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one.

“Hey,” he says.

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak.

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.”

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?”

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight.

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment.

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.”

“It's getting better.”

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–”

“I'm really okay–”

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–”

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.”

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.”

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket.

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still.

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.”

“And he hit you?”

“Yeah.”

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask.

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice.

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue.

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?”

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.”

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…”

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly.

“I’m not stupid.”

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.”

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.”

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now.

“Can I buy you something to eat?”

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside.

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.”

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it.

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?”

“No.”

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.”

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly.

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that.

#spencer and stripper!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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leiascully · 3 months ago

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Fic prompt: Scully tells Mulder that he's her best friend. Bonus points if it's Season 5 or earlier.

Good news: it's season 2.

When Mulder wakes up, Scully is sitting beside his bed. She smiles and it’s like the sun has come out in his windowless hospital room. She balances an issue of JAMA on her knee and rests her pen on it.

“Hi,” he rasps.

“Hi,” she says, passing him a plastic cup of water. It’s room temperature and vaguely redolent of chlorine, but he drains it dry. The cup makes a hollow noise as he sets it back on his bedside table, his movements a little clumsy. The simple act of drinking has exhausted him. He sags back into the thin pillows. The mattress is stiff and uncomfortable underneath him. But he’ll be all right. Scully’s here.

For a moment, he just basks in the glow of her smile. He doesn’t know what time it is, but Scully has brought the golden hour with her. He would swear he can feel the warmth of her fond regard on his chilly skin. He turns toward her like a sunflower, his head heavy on his neck.

“You need to rest,” she chides gently, but she hasn’t picked up her pen again. That’s the sign of a serious Scully who’s no longer willing to entertain her convalescent patient. He knows her hospital-based tells rather better than he’d like. A specific crook to her brows means he isn’t out of the woods yet; a particular twist to her lips means she’s sick of his shit. But today he’s getting this smile like sunshine. Radiant.

She turns her head to look at something. Abruptly, he feels the weary cold striking out of his bones. The blanket covering his bed is pilled and worn, and the sheet is a little scratchy. He longs for the thick blanket he keeps on his couch. His toes are so chilled that they ache. He wants a duvet to wrap around himself and a hot water bottle for his feet, like the ones he had at Oxford, and he wants to sit in front of a roaring fire and drink a hot toddy while Scully explains the latest developments in medical whatsits and theraputic thingamabobs. Her voice is as warming as whiskey.

“Remind me where I am?” he says, just to hear her talk.

“At the military hospital at Eisenhower Field,” she tells him. “You were airlifted here after your shenanigans on that submarine.”

“Shenanigans?” He snorts. “That’s a weird way to say ‘crucial mission of international or possibly intergalactic import’.”

“Shenanigans,” she says in a firm dry tone. “I blame it on your antic disposition.”

“I can tell a hawk from a handsaw however the wind blows,” he says.

“Hmm.” She studies him. Heat blooms across his skin where her eyes touch him. “That’s not what your performance reviews say.”

“Those are confidential, Scully.” He pretends to glare at her.

“That’s why they put the ‘I’ in ‘FBI’,” she quips, and he can’t help grinning at her. His dry lips pull, the skin flaking a little. She pours him more water from a pitcher and passes him the cup. When he’s finished drinking, she pulls a tub of Blistex out of her bag and offers it to him. He dips a finger into the hollow her fingertip has made and smears the paste over his mouth. His lips tingle. It’s the medicated formula, with its whiff of camphor. He hands the little pot back over and she caps it and drops it back into her bag.

It strikes him, like a sliver of light has lodged in his heart, how precious she is to him. How glad he is that she’s here in this strange cold hospital room. It’s been so long since he’s known someone well enough to share lip balm with them. It was probably Samantha, a twist-up cherry Chapstick jammed in his pocket for when they were chapped by the sea air. But Scully shares her things, her thoughts, as easy as breathing.

“What did I miss?” he says.

She looks at him with mournful eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell you, but….” For a moment he tenses, uncertain, but the hint of a smile in her eyes tips him off to the joke. “Mulder, you missed the Super Bowl.”

He relaxes back into his insufficient bed. “That’s fine. I’ll just borrow your highlights tape.”

She laughs softly. “Missy was so mad about that. She didn’t understand at all.”

“I don’t think she likes me.”

“She likes you,” Scully objects, but she’s too honest to leave it unqualified. “Mostly.”

“I should have brought bonbons, huh,” he says.

“A nice amethyst crystal would have been more up her alley,” she tells him. “Maybe one of those singing bowls.” She shakes her head ruefully. “She gets protective. You’re not easy to explain.”

He tries to pretend nonchalance. “What did you tell her about me? Least favorite rental car chauffeur? Most dramatic slide show reveal?”

She ducks her head and shakes it from side to side. “I’ve had worse chauffeurs. I tried telling her you were my partner, but I don’t think she understood. It didn’t make sense to her, the things you did while I was in the hospital. The way you sat with me. Colleague didn’t seem to cover it. Not even partner.”

“So what did you say?” His mouth is dry again.

“I told her you were my best friend,” Scully says in a quiet voice. There’s some depth he can’t plumb in the way she says it, but she’s smiling like she’s holding something close.

“Good,” he says. He reaches out and taps the edge of her journal with one fingertip. “When you spring me from the joint, we can go down to the boardwalk and get those puzzle piece necklaces. And some salt water taffy.”

“Now that’s a worthy welcome-back gift,” she teases. “A little out of season, unfortunately. I don’t think it’s boardwalk weather today. Not in this hemisphere, anyway.”

“Remind me in the summer,” he tells her. “I owe you.”

They chat for a while. She makes him sip more water and sees him helped to the bathroom. She checks his temperature with the backs of her fingers and prescribes him another blanket, promising to return in the morning. He senses the potential for contraband rations: an Egg McMuffin concealed inside an innocent handbag, maybe even a hashbrown if she feels sorry enough for him in his refrigerated state.

He catches at her hand as she turns to go. “Scully. You didn’t tell me who won.” It’s a flimsy excuse, but it’s all his muddled brain can manufacture.

“The 49ers beat the Chargers.” She rubs her thumb absently over his knuckles. Probably some kind of diagnostic, like when she pushes her fingers through his hair. He wonders what secrets his body reveals to her. “Good night, Mulder. Get some rest.”

He slides quickly into sleep once she’s gone. His mouth still tingles like the kiss of a salt breeze. The creak of the bed reminds him of gulls calling in the distance, and he follows them down into a dream of summer sun glinting off Scully’s hair and making her eyes crinkle. Her fair skin is the color of the sand; her eyes are the sea and the sky, an endless blue horizon that calls him out of his body and into some blissful eternity. In his dream, her lips taste like taffy, and they are both healed.

#my fic #leiascully fic #poangpals #xfiles fanfic #msr fanfic #i stg i'm working on the other prompts in my inbox #but i haven't had any brain power #because of The Horrors #but here's this

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bvrnesher · 4 months ago

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hello may i have a percy jackson x mortal reader (fluff because there too much angst with this trope) when the reader discover that he is a demigod, freak out but after annoy the heck of him asking him question about his power his family. established relationship :) please

۶ৎ — Fish Out of Water !

tap here for chb masterlists ! here for reqs info

Warnings: short as f ! humor, fluff, mild panic, percy struggling with too many questions, reader being way too curious about his powers.

ㅤ୨ৎ —˳ percy jackson ! mortal reader

Summary: percy never planned to spend his afternoon explaining his demigod status to you—especially not after you witnessed him slay a monster. Cue panic, existential crisis, and way too many questions.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗖𝗬 𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗔 lot of things from today. Maybe a pop quiz. Maybe some monster-related disaster. Maybe even a surprise date with you if he was lucky.

What he had not expected was you finding out he was a demigod in the worst way possible.

"Percy," you said, voice a little too calm, a little too thin, "why is that thing exploding into dust?"

He turned, saw the remains of the monster he’d just stabbed fading into nothing, and winced. "Uh."

"And why," you continued, eyes wild, "did it try to eat me?"

Percy shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, so. Funny story—"

"Funny? Funny?" You threw your hands in the air. "Percy, that was a monster! A real, actual monster! That tried to kill me! And you just—" You made an exaggerated stabbing motion. "—like it was normal!?"

He winced. "I mean… it kind of is?"

You blinked. "I'm sorry. What."

So, yeah. Explaining that your very normal, very human boyfriend was actually not normal or human at all? Not how Percy had planned to spend his afternoon.

The initial freak-out was… intense. There was yelling. Pacing. Wild gestures. At one point, you threatened to "check him for gills" just to make sure he wasn’t secretly a fish.

But then—because of course—you started asking questions.

Too many questions.

"Wait, so when you say Poseidon is your dad, do you mean, like, biologically? Or is it more of a ‘divine vibes’ situation?"

"It’s weird."

You squinted. "So, if we have kids, they’ll be, what? Quarter-gods?"

Percy choked. "We are not—" He waved wildly. "—having this conversation right now."

"Okay, fine, whatever," you said, waving him off. "But, like. Can you breathe underwater?"

"Yeah."

"Can you talk to dolphins?"

"Yes."

"Can you control dolphins? Because that would be so cool—"

"No, I cannot summon an army of dolphins."

You looked vaguely disappointed. "Okay, but what if—"

Percy groaned, tipping his head back. "You are never letting this go, are you?"

"Absolutely not," you said cheerfully. "So. Do you glow when you're wet, or—"

"Oh my gods, shut up," he whined, taking you by the chin to silence you with a kiss. His lips met yours with that softness and carefree manner characteristic of Percy, while he placed his free hand on your lower back with the sole purpose of bringing you closer to him.

You let yourself melt in the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck just before a smile formed on your lips. In the middle of the kiss, you managed to mumble, "A fish is kissing me?"

The words came out with the pure purpose of annoying Percy, and he growled into the kiss. "I hate you."

It was going to be a long day.

──﹙xoxo, s﹚

#bvrnesher #‧₊˚✧ s. posting !#pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #riordanverse #riordanverse x reader #pjo x reader #pjo series #percy series #percy pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #camp half blood #pjo fluff #fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fluff

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rin-art-fanfic-universe · 4 months ago

Text

Gojo Satoru X OC

Summary: You and your boyfriend Gojo Satoru go on an impossible mission 10 years into the past to protect your younger selves from a dangerous curse. While Gojo is more than excited to meet a 19 year old version of his cute girlfriend, you can't imagine how much more immature and troublesome an 18 year old Gojo would be.

Warnings: age gap, slow burn, nsfw, yandere tendencies; all characters are adults

~• Intro •~

The green digital text on the screen displayed the numbers 05, indicating that the next train would arrive in another five minutes. (y/n) reached for her little flip phone and sent a voice note to her best friend.

"(bff/n), the train will be here in five minutes. I'll meet you at the cafe."

She gently tapped on the little icon on her phone to send the voice note and swung her bag back and forth while waiting. As the noise of the speeding train approached closer, she headed towards the edge of the platform, ready to board. It happened in less than a second. Even though the station was fairly empty and she hadn't seen anyone behind or beside her, it felt like somebody shoved her aggressively.

She didn't even have the time to process what happened before she felt like she was pushed on the train tracks. She closed her eyes and images of her mama, papa, and her best friend flashed before her eyes.

She was so sure her feet had left the ground, but when her eyes opened, she saw a man with platinum blonde hair wearing a blindfold. Just before the train could collide against her body to crush her like a watermelon, warm hands had wrapped around her waist and pulled her back.

She stared at the stranger, who now had a wide grin on his face. "I made it in time, thank god." He said, his hands still wrapped around her protectively. "Wow, you really are (y/n). I can't believe this. You really look 19 years old, how cute!"

She stumbled a step back in confusion. Words wouldn't even form on her lips as she absorbed all the events around her. What could she even say to him? "Who are you? How do you know my name? Did you really appear in thin air and save me?" So many questions, yet all she managed was, "Eh?"

"It's me, Gojo Satoru. Your boyfriend from ten years in the future."

~• Chapter 1 •~

The previous night

"Yaga-sensei, tell him to not interfere in my missions. This is really unfair, that was my curse to kill!" She whined, making her way into the office.

"You would literally die if I hadn't appeared to save your ass. You Grade 1, loser sorcerer-" Gojo Satoru started, immediately earning a punch on his shoulder.

"You're a loser sorcerer. I was so close to defeating him, but you always step in and ruin things." She retorted. "If I defeated that curse today, I'd easily be promoted to Special Grade-"

"No." Gojo Satoru's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

(y/n) grabbed a fist full of his hair and pulled it back. "No? You dare restrict me from something?" She asked, pulling his head down to her level. "You, as a boyfriend, will control the missions I take up? Gojo Satoru, know your place in this relationship." She warned.

It was interesting how Gojo never used his Limitless cursed technique against (y/n). It would be such a waste to do that. The feeling of her soft fingers in his hair was too precious, even it was currently causing him pain. "You can't take up Special Grade missions for the rest of your loser life. I'll never let you." He groaned, still in pain.

"That's enough! You're both adults! I'd prefer if you acted your age." Yaga-sensei scolded. "We have actually discovered some really concerning information for the two of you." Principal Yaga's tone caused the both of them to straighten up. "The Special Grade curse you both fought today is an ancient deity that went over to the dark side 600 years ago." He explained.

"Wow, something like that happened?" She asked curiously.

"I mean, deities were born from human needs and wishes. When they prayed for more and more, their reverse cursed energy condensed to form a being that could help those wishes come true." Gojo Satoru interjected. "Its only natural that the deity could eventually gain a conscious of its own and it may choose to go over to the evil side if it wants to."

"So we defeated something that high and mighty today?" She asked in surprise.

"No, you both didn't defeat it. That deity is one that can travel through time. It doesn't have any violent or flashy cursed techniques, but its abilities are the most dangerous of all. It can travel back in time to erase the future of its targets." He announced, causing (y/n) to clench her fingers into a fist. "If his cursed energy touched you even once, he can go ten years into your past and kill you. That will erase your present and future."

She was slightly stressed while Gojo had a bored expression on his face. "Mr. Ijichi reported that you shook hands with the curse as a joke. How can you be so careless, Satoru?!" His voice thundered in the office and (y/n) immediately took the opportunity to throw oil into the fire.

"When I was struggling during the fight, Satoru was showing off how he could shake hands with the curse and make a fool out of it." She complained.

"Thanks to your recklessness, the curse has access to both of your lives when you were 18 and 19 years old." He informed. "But thankfully, the curse travels really slow in time, so we have a chance to save you. Both of you will have to go on a mission to prevent the worst from occurring. Principal Gakuganji will arrive today evening from Kyoto. Apparently, his sorcerer acquaintance knows a way to temporarily travel into the past. If you can exorcise the curse in time travel, it will disappear from the past. You can then try to seal it. Unfortunately, there's no way to exorcise it." He explained while (y/n) and Satoru exchanged glances.

---

A couple of hours later, (y/n) had given up on being frustrated with Gojo Satoru's antics. All her aggression melted away when he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her close and begged her to forgive him.

(y/n) now sat comfortably on his lap, in his bed, as he peppered her neck with kisses. Her eyes were closed, fingers clutching his shirt. "Satoru, are we really going to go into the past? Isn't that dangerous?" She asked innocently.

"Hm, it is." Gojo replied as his hands guided her by her waist so she could turn around to straddle him. He reached to undo the first few buttons of her shirt and ran his fingers on the smooth skin over her collarbones. "Apparently, we have to go back and protect each other from the curse."

(y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed. "Each other-?" A sweet little sound escaped her lips mid sentence as his fingers traced the shape of her clothed breasts through her shirt.

"Yeah, we can't meet our own past self because that would be like meeting an apparition of ourself. One of us could then disappear from the world." He explained.

"What? I don't get it." She looked at him blankly. Gojo Satoru raised his hand to softly run his thumb against her cheek.

"Doppelganger, you dumb bitch."

She smacked him for the second time that day. "I'm leaving-" She started getting out of his hold, but Gojo pulled her right back towards him.

"Okay I'm sorry, I won't be mean." He said as he tightened his grip around her waist. "Yaga-sensei said that since the curse used to be a deity in the past, it may still have divine powers. It may have adapted to my current cursed techniques. I hadn't mastered Hollow Purple or Reverse Cursed Technique back when I was still 18, so killing him becomes a possibility. If he dies, I might also dis-" Gojo Satoru didn't get to complete his sentence. In a matter of seconds, (y/n) had captured his lips with her own. Her eyes were closed, hands pulling him by the collar of his white shirt.

"That's not going to happen!" She exclaimed. "Even if you think I'm a loser and even if you think my cursed technique doesn't compare to your own, I'm a Grade 1 sorcerer. I'll never let something like that happen!" Her strong resolve paired with her cute voice made Gojo Satoru chuckle in response.

"I was a Special Grade sorcerer at 18-"

"Doesn't fucking matter." She replied. "I'll protect you Satoru, do you not trust me?!"

"Not really-"

"I'll exorcise that curse or deity or whatever and I'll bring its head back." Gojo couldn't help but kiss her face affectionately. "You're not taking me seriously, are you?" She asked him, clearly offended.

"Of course I am." The undone buttons of her shirt made it easier for him to slide it downward. He gently placed a kiss on her exposed shoulder. "Its just one day, but somehow, I don't feel like leaving. It feels like I might not see you for a long time." Gojo Satoru said, almost like he felt lonely. His fingers swiftly got the shirt out of his way, leaving (y/n) in just her bra. Oh, how he wanted to get that nuisance of a bra out of his way so he could worship her pretty pair of breasts. "I love you so much." He whispered. You're my sweet and my perfect little sl-"

But then, (y/n) had something absolutely different on her mind as she held his wrist to stop him. "We should strategize, Satoru. If we can defeat the curse early, we'll be back within a day or two." She said and got out of Gojo Satoru's hold, causing him to pout like a little kid. She headed over to his desk and grabbed a notebook to trace out her plan.

Almost immediately, a mischievous smile appeared on Gojo Satoru's lips. "Wait, I'll get to meet you from when you were 19 years old." He started.

"Eh? So?"

"I've only known you for the past two years from when you were 27, I can't imagine what you were like back then. Were you the same, bitchy and loud, like you are now?" He asked, causing her to throw a pencil on him, which he easily stopped using Limitless. "Or were you like, cute and innocent back then? At what age did you have your first kiss?" He asked.

"Satoru, you're not allowed to do anything funny. I'll annihilate you when you come back." She warned.

"Use your hands to kill me instead, its sexier. I don't wanna die by your loser cursed technique," Gojo Satoru immediately earned three more smacks on his head. He retaliated and as usual, they began to scuffle, (y/n) still wearing only her bra. Gojo Satoru loved doing things to get a reaction out of her and he loved how she fell for it every time.

~• Chapter 2 ~•

Gojo Satoru

"Thank you so much for saving me earlier." 19 year old (y/n) bowed down in gratitude, but when her head raised up, she gave the man a stern look. "However, please stop following me. I will report you to the police." She warned politely. The man wearing the blindfold didn't respond.

As soon as Gojo Satoru had arrived in the past, he sought all the information about (y/n)'s family and her current whereabouts. He was extremely lucky to have found her just in time to save her when the curse pushed her in front of the train. If needed, Gojo Satoru was willing to crush the entire train using his Limitless cursed technique to save (y/n).

The thing was, Gojo Satoru didn't know when the curse would appear and try to attack her. He had to be with her at all times, but doing that discreetly was no fun. He had a chance to meet (y/n) from a time before he knew her. A version of his cute girlfriend that he had never seen. How could he spend all that time in hiding?

"I'm a Special Grade sorcerer." He bragged.

"I'm not interested in becoming a sorcerer like my parents, so leave me alone. I don't want to get involved in your world." (y/n) replied, worry evident on her face. There was a sense of urgency in the way she said it, almost like she wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

Gojo Satoru felt slightly offended. Am I repulsive? He watched as she turned her back on him and walked away. He felt a little disappointed. The (y/n) he knew was loud and irritable, she laughed a lot and cried just as easily, she cared too much about what's fair and what isn't, she hugged him tightly and always responded to jokes with violence. She had always been so warm and lovable. That's why when she treated him like he was a stranger, Gojo Satoru couldn't help but feel hurt.

He wasn't going to leave (y/n) alone, since the curse could use any opportunity to kill her and consequently, the 29 year old (y/n) would disappear. Gojo Satoru called the Kyoto Jujutsu High office and requested them to arrange a meeting with Principal Gakuganji that evening. He then approached (y/n) while she was currently on the phone with her best friend.

"I'm so sorry, (bff/n). I know you've been waiting for long, I'll be there in-" Gojo Satoru abruptly took the phone from her hand and placed it beside his ear.

"(y/n) can't make it, she's so sorry, she'll be leaving for Kyoto today." Gojo Satoru said in the most cheerful tone and disconnected the call.

"What the hell-" She protested and stood on her toes to reach for her phone, but Gojo Satoru was built like a tree. He raised his hand to keep the phone out of her reach and placed two fingers on her forehead.

(y/n) didn't remember much of what happened after. She blacked out.

______________

(y/n) woke up to the sound of someone typing away on the keyboard. Sitting up on the bed, she saw the same man sitting before a study table in the corner. Despite having his strange blindfold on, she wondered how he was seeing anything on the monitor he faced.

Then she recalled his words from this afternoon. I'm your boyfriend from ten years in the future. Was he really? That sounded so ridiculous to even think about.

(y/n) soundlessly got out of bed and tiptoed towards the door until-

"(y/n) apart from basic necessities like your clothes and toothbrush and stuff, is there anything else you want?" He suddenly asked.

"Huh?" Everything he said was so confusing.

"I'm just ordering some essentials. I don't know how long we might have to stay at Kyoto Jujutsu High to keep you protected." He informed.

"Did you just say Kyoto?" She asked in horror. "Is this another lowly attempt of my parents to make me a Jujutsu Sorcerer?" Her fingers clenched into a fist and she headed towards the door.

"No, although I informed your family about this, I'm not here for something silly like that. You're in danger and I'm here to protect you." He started. "A curse from 2017 came all the way to the current timeline so he can kill you. Do you understand that? We don't know when he'll arrive or how he'll attack, that's why I brought you here to Kyoto. The barrier will keep you safe inside the Jujutsu High School." Gojo Satoru's explanation only made half sense to her, but for the moment, it was sufficient to make (y/n) shut up. It was a lot to process.

"So, you're here from the future to exorcise a curse?" She asked innocently.

"Yeah, mainly to protect you." He smiled. "Like a bodyguard?" He looked at her in a way that caused (y/n) to avert her gaze. Almost like he paid too much attention to her.

"What did you mean earlier when you said you're... my boyfriend?" (y/n) asked as she avoided eye contact with him and fidgeted with the fabric of the sheets.

"Are you curious?" Gojo Satoru grinned. "We met in 2015 when you transferred to Tokyo Jujutsu High and we started dating the next year. You're actually one year older than me."

(y/n) narrowed her eyes at him. "Just because you're from Jujutsu High, I'm not going to believe everything you say. You could totally be lying about this." Pulling herself out of the bed, (y/n) went outside to confirm the information Gojo Satoru gave her. Talking to the assistants at the Kyoto Jujutsu High, she realised that this man wasn't lying about protecting her from a curse.

"Did you have lunch yet, (y/n)?" Gojo Satoru's concerned voice sounded strangely irritating to her. However, the truth was that (y/n) was going to meet her friend for lunch. Her stomach was rumbling due to lack of food.

"Not yet." She meekly replied and looked away. Gojo Satoru smiled and led her to the dining area of the Kyoto Jujutsu High.

As food was served, she couldn't help but wonder how important this Gojo Satoru guy could've been. Why was he receiving special treatment in the lair of someone as scheming and annoying as principal Gakuganji. She knew about the power hierarchy in the Jujutsu world from her parents. It was a major reason why (y/n) wanted to stay out of the system and never become a sorcerer.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Gojo Satoru asked. (y/n) was sitting across him in the dining area, warm food placed in front of her. Her fingers toyed with the spoon as she observed him.

"I would never date a shady man that wears a creepy-ass blindfold." (y/n) said, causing Gojo to choke on the soup. He was caught off-guard and started coughing.

When he composed himself a bit, he realised how it was only (y/n) who could surprise him like this with her words. He could read people so easily and (y/n) was no exception. He knew what she was thinking and feeling, yet her words and actions were so unpredictable. Despite being a Grade 1 sorcerer, she always had an attitude that even rivaled Special Grades. That's what made her so different and interesting to him.

Gojo Satoru looked at the 19-year-old (y/n) in front of him. He was definitely going to win her over in this timeline too. "This blindfold is to cover my six eyes. Otherwise, my eyes take in too much unnecessary information, it's annoying." He said before bringing another spoonful of rice to his mouth.

"Six eyes?" She asked curiously. "So you're that Gojo kid." As a child, (y/n) often heard close relatives discuss about the prodigy child of the Gojo clan. The one who had inherited the six eyes and Limitless cursed technique. It was difficult to believe he would become her boyfriend in the future. "Isn't there a Gojo Satoru in my world as well? He would be around my age. Are you going to meet him too?" (y/n) asked, causing Gojo Satoru to pause and wonder.

"Hm, it might create a doppelganger type effect and he might think I'm a threat and try to attack me, I don't know." Gojo Satoru replied. "The current Gojo Satoru is one year younger than you so he'd be around 18. I can't interfere too much with the past so I'm going to avoid meeting him." Gojo smiled, but (y/n) could only look at the table, still trying to process everything this man told her.

"Did I stress you out too much by telling you these things?" Gojo Satoru asked.

(y/n) shook her head. "I'm not stressed. I'm just trying to make sense of everything you told me. How long will I have to stay here?" She asked.

"Until I defeat and seal the curse. It shouldn't take more than a day or two. Finding it is more of a problem than sealing it." He said.

After the meal, Gojo Satoru headed out with another sorcerer to discuss how they can locate the curse. (y/n) was left alone as there were only two other students in Kyoto Jujutsu Tech; Utahime and Mei Mei, both of who had been out on a mission for more than a week. There really was nobody to talk to and nothing else to do.

Before leaving, Gojo Satoru had placed both his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "The barrier in the Kyoto Jujutsu Tech campus will prevent any curse from getting in. I want you to stay here and not leave until I get back, okay?" He had said. (y/n) only nodded in response, left with no alternative choice.

She didn't realise when she had fallen asleep that afternoon. (y/n) woke up to her phone ringing repeatedly late in the evening. There were 15 missed calls from her best friend's mom. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she called her back.

"(y/n)," Her best friend's mom sobbed when she picked up the phone. "(bff/n) went out to meet you, but she never got home. When I tried calling her, a nurse picked up her phone. She got into an accident and is currently in the hospital." She sounded really distressed and had probably been crying for a really long time.

"W-What hospital? I'll leave immediately." (y/n) said, her voice shaky. It was too sudden. She had only talked to her friend over the phone this afternoon. How did this happen in such a short span of time?

At that time, the thought of contacting Gojo Satoru didn't even cross her mind. (y/n) just grabbed her jacket and her wallet before dashing outside to the train station. She had to get to the hospital as fast as possible to see her best friend's current condition.

It was around 8:30 pm. (y/n) walked as quickly as possible in the cold to reach the train station. It hadn't even been a few minutes since she had left and halfway through, a black smoke emerged from a gap in the walls. It looked really suspicious, so she stopped and took a few steps back. Before she could decide what to do next, the smoke wrapped around her ankle and exerted force to pull her towards the building. As she fell to the ground, it dragged her against the asphalt, scraping her legs in the process. (y/n) screamed and held on to a car parked nearby to prevent being dragged along any further. After a few seconds of resilience, the car started getting dragged along with (y/n). The curse was powerful enough to move a car along with it.

(y/n) shut her eyes tightly, holding on for dear life. "Gojo!" She screamed. There was no trace of anyone that could help her in that situation. "Let go!" She shouted at the curse, tears forming in her eyes. If the smoke was so powerful, it could just slam her against the wall and her skull would split open. She would have to do something to save herself.

(y/n)'s parents had forced her to go through Jujutsu training as a kid, but she had rebelled and quit sorcery four years ago. However, she hadn't completely let go of her cursed technique yet. Before (y/n) could do anything the smoke disappeared leaving her injured on the ground, still holding on to the car.

"Fucking coward." She heard Gojo Satoru's voice behind her. So that's why the curse fled immediately. "Can you stand up?" He asked and extended his hand. Her fingers were shaky as she reached for his hand. In that sense, Gojo Satoru was very perceptive. He didn't waste another minute and slipped an arm under her knees and the other around her shoulder to lift her off the ground. (y/n) was still disoriented due to the sudden attack, so without protesting, she just closed her eyes tightly as the surroundings started warping into different colours. He hadn't even walked one step, yet (y/n) was now in her room at the Kyoto Jujutsu School. Was that teleportation?

Gojo Satoru gently put her down on the bed and went outside the room. When he came back, there was a first-aid kit in his hands. She looked at her legs that were scraped like she had just gotten into a road accident. Gojo Satoru poured rubbing alcohol on cotton and used it to clean the wound that was covered in a mix of dirt and blood. He didn't look at her face even once, his eyes were only focused on cleaning up the wounds.

"Is he angry...?" She wondered. "Gojo, I was-"

"Why did you leave the barrier?" He asked without looking up. "I specifically asked you not to. Why were you so reckless?" Gojo Satoru's voice was so calm, it actually scared her a little bit.

"I got a phone call. My best friend got into an accident and her mom called me around 15 times. I wanted to go to the hospital and see her." (y/n) explained, reaching for her phone and fiddling with the screen to show him the missed calls. However, they weren't there. She didn't have any missed calls from anyone. "Eh? It was right here, I swear." She checked it repeatedly, but the call log was empty.

Gojo Satoru patted her head. " I know you're not lying." He said kindly. "The curse must've pulled a stunt, they're notorious for doing things like this. So, I believe you (y/n)-chan." When he said that, she looked at him, worry still etched on her face.

"Y-You're not mad I left?" She asked.

"I definitely am. If I didn't arrive in time, the curse would've killed you instantly. I don't want to go back to a future without (y/n), so I need you to be more careful. If you received a call like that, you should've called me instead of leaving the barrier." He said, making her look down at the ground. Everything he said made her heart flutter a bit. Was such a sweet and loving person really her boyfriend in the future? It sounded so unreal.

Gojo Satoru ran his fingers through her hair to fix it a bit. She looked down, refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry." She said quietly. He chuckled in response. The (y/n) he knew would rather die than timidly apologize to him for something that wasn't really her fault. Gojo Satoru ran his thumb against (y/n)'s cheek and smiled warmly.

"You're so sweet, I almost don't want to forgive you."

~• Chapter 3•~

(y/n)

When 29 year old (y/n) time travelled to go back from 2017 to 2007, she had made sure to prepare herself ahead of time. Refusing her boyfriend Gojo Satoru's offer to make out in his bed was sad enough, but hopefully, it would pay off when (y/n) would defeat the curse and go back to him relieved of all worries.

Yaga Masamichi had instructed both of them to report to the Principal at Kyoto Jujutsu School as he was the one coordinating this mission along with the sorcerer skilled in time travel. So, (y/n) decided to start with reaching out to them first.

(y/n) hadn't slept a wink since the previous night. When she heard of how the curse may be able to outsmart a younger Gojo Satoru and adapt to his Limitless Cursed Technique, (y/n) couldn't sit still. She spent all night buried in books, trying to understand the best way to outsmart a Special Grade curse. Being a Grade 1 sorcerer herself, (y/n) was not really qualified to fight a Special Grade curse. Yaga Masamichi and Gojo Satoru had only agreed to send her so she could warn the younger Gojo Satoru ahead of time and help him and the other sorcerers exorcise the curse.

(y/n)'s cursed technique was really average in comparison to that of her colleagues. Even getting as far as a Grade 1 rank was difficult enough for her and had only been possible because of her intelligence and hardworking nature. While Gojo Satoru figured out his opponent during the fight, (y/n)'s battle against the curse began well in advance. She always gathered as much information as possible and developed a strategy before entering a battle. This method worked well for her during missions, but surprise attacks by a curse was always a nightmare for (y/n).

She explained the situation to the principal of Kyoto Jujutsu High who surprisingly, seemed to be aware of it already. His acquaintance, the sorcerer who had the ability to time travel, already received information about her arrival in advance.

"I already told Yaga to send his students, so you can discuss this with them." He told, causing her to sigh in relief.

Unlike Gojo, (y/n) was not particularly excited about this mission. She sat on a bench in the garden of the school and opened the notebook she brought along. Special Grade curses already made her anxious enough and this one was an ancient deity with a cursed technique that far outranked her own. (y/n) flipped through her notes.

"Locating the curse is going to be such a dreary task..." She said to herself and leaned back in the bench. "We can start by detecting trace particles of cursed energy..." The bench was so uncomfortable and (y/n)'s head wanted a place to rest. Her room in the Kyoto Jujutsu High felt too far away, so (y/n) just placed the notebook on her face and fell asleep on the bench outside.

"Is that her? Should we wake her up?"

"No, let's come back later."

"Just wake her up, we'll ask her about the mission."

"You do it."

(y/n)'s eyes fluttered open as she heard two familiar voices. One of them definitely belonged to Gojo and the other was strangely familiar too. She slowly sat up, causing the two boys to exchange glances.

"Gojo Satoru and..." (y/n) was surprised at what she saw. "Geto Suguru?" She hadn't been warned about this. Only last year she had fought alongside the other sorcerers against an ex-Jujutsu High student. That was Geto Suguru. The fight was inconclusive and they made a truce of mutual non-aggression with him. She couldn't believe she had to work with him to defeat this curse.

"Are you sure she's not just dumb?" That was Gojo Satoru. (y/n) had just realised that her boyfriend at the age of 28 was twenty-five times less meaner than his 18 year old self.

"Satoru!" Geto smacked his head and gave an apologetic smile to (y/n). "I'm sorry, we were flown in to Kyoto at such short notice for a mission they didn't really explain to us. He's just really annoyed." He politely explained and (y/n) nodded in understanding.

"I specifically called in for Gojo Satoru and a skilled Special Grade sorcerer to accompany him." (y/n) started as she sat up.

"Suguru isn't here to accompany me." Satoru said, irritation colouring his voice.

"Yes, he's here to make sure you don't die fighting with your current methods." (y/n) retorted, causing Gojo Satoru's eyebrows to knit in confusion. "I'm a Grade 1 sorcerer from 2017 and I've been sent to help you guys defeat a curse that time-travelled all the way here to kill Gojo Satoru." (y/n) explained. Without giving them a chance to continue, she went on. "...and before you tell me about how strong you are and how amazing your cursed technique is, let me tell you, the curse already fought you once and has probably now adopted itself to your Limitless cursed technique. That means it can get through your Limitless barrier and it's attacks can actually reach you. Do you understand, Satoru? You need to stop being so reckless. We're in this situation because you acted cocky in a fight against this curse." (y/n) said in frustration while the two boys just looked at her stunned.

"Satoru, looks like you created a mess in the future." Geto Suguru whispered.

"Eh? How is this my fault?" Gojo Satoru whined before his eyebrows perked up. "One second, did you just call me Satoru?" He asked (y/n) suspiciously.

"Uh, what, no, we're not that close. I said Gojo Satoru." (y/n) said, in an attempt to cover up what she had done. Before arriving in 2007, (y/n) had promised herself to not reveal the nature of their relationship to Gojo Satoru. She didn't want to complicate things and also just found it a bit inappropriate considering their age gap.

"Satoru, let it go." Geto managed to control his friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "There's a meeting room inside. Would you like to go in and discuss this mission?" He kindly offered and (y/n) accepted before heading inside with them.

As (y/n) sat down across Gojo Satoru, she couldn't help but notice how the school uniform looked so different on him. He looked younger and his glasses made him look stupider than the blindfold he usually wore. His words and actions were also way more annoying and childish than what she was normally used to.

"So, our first goal should be locating this curse. I was told that finding it is going to be more difficult than anything else." She started as she opened her notes for reference. "Also, the curse is notorious for surprise attacks. We need to be really careful-"

Gojo Satoru grinned. "Are those notes? She's like a middle school girl, it's so funny." He earned another smack from Geto Suguru as he said that. (y/n) recalled how Gojo had made fun of her for exactly the same thing when they were first assigned to a mission together two years ago. She was supposed to assist him and learn from his methods, but the truth was that Gojo Satoru wasn't accustomed to prior planning. He didn't have the need to do that. He just entered the battle on a whim and defeated the curse effortlessly. She remembered bickering with him about the same thing and how he had made jokes about her use of notes and reference books to navigate a fight.

"Do you have a problem with me?" She asked the 18 year old Gojo Satoru sitting in front of her.

"No, Gojo is a bitch to every cute girl he meets." A laidback voice emerged from the doorway, causing (y/n) to smile and turn around.

"Shoko!" She said and only smiled wider upon seeing her. "...and you have short hair. It looks so cute on you." (y/n) said, causing Shoko to exchange confused glances with her classmates.

"You know me?" Shoko asked as she took a seat beside (y/n).

"She's from 2017 and apparently she knows all of us." Geto explained causing Shoko's surprise to turn into amusement.

"Then can you tell us about the future? Do I get a hot boyfriend by then? " Shoko asked and (y/n) only replied with a strained smile.

"I've been asked to not share any information about the future with you all. Plus, you'll anyway forget everything once I leave." (y/n) started. "Once the curse is defeated, it'll almost be like none of this ever happened. You'll forget me and that I ever came here. We'll only meet in 2015 then, how we originally met." She smiled.

"So are you our friend in the future?" Geto Suguru asked. Now, (y/n) didn't want to lie to him, but she also didn't have the heart to tell him that he defected from Jujutsu High at some point and had become their opponent by the time she met him in the future. So, she only smiled and smiled in response.

After charting out a plan to locate the curse, they decided to look for it by detecting trace particles of it's cursed energy. They divided themselves into pairs, with one Special Grade sorcerer in each pair. (y/n) was paired with Gojo, both of who groaned upon hearing that.

"I'm the older one. I must act mature." (y/n) told herself as she walked alongside Gojo Satoru, stealing glances of him occassionally. He was the exact same person 10 years into the past as well. It hadn't even been a day, but looking at the 18 year old Gojo made her miss her boyfriend so much. "I hope he's safe." (y/n) thought to herself.

"The curse didn't come here, there are no trace particles of cursed energy at any of the places we visited." Gojo Satoru said as he leaned against the wall. "Does this curse even exist?" He took a sip of the orange juice he had just bought from a vending machine nearby.

"Yes, it does." (y/n) looked at her notes. "I read in the archives and battle records that deity-turned-curses love to prey on anxiety. They create stressful and frightening situations before devouring their victims." She explained.

"It doesn't matter. Suguru and I are the strongest. Bring any curse and we'll devour it instead." Gojo Satoru said with a smug expression, followed by (y/n) rolling her eyes in response.

"I've heard that line a thousand times, please shut up and focus on the mission at hand. Everyone knows you're strong. I wouldn't be sent here if you could handle this on your own." (y/n) tried to hammer some practical thinking into Gojo Satoru's head. "You needed a heads-up for this."

"Hm, I'm just wondering what kind of an attack-" As Gojo Satoru took another sip of his orange juice, (y/n) suddenly pounced on him, making both of them fall to the ground as a beam of hot lava slammed against the wall. The paint and concrete on the wall melted and disappeared, giving a clear view of the half-destroyed bricks inside the wall.

"That was close." (y/n) let out a sigh of relief and turned to look at the curse. Some of the lava had splashed on to Gojo Satoru's shirt, leaving burn marks on it. "Look, Satoru, the cursed energy got through Infinity." She said, still on top of Gojo Satoru, trapping him with both her arms on the ground.

"You worry too much." Gojo Satoru said as he sat up and effortlessly lifted (y/n) off him by her waist. It reminded her of Satoru, her boyfriend, and how his rough hands had gripped her waist last night. It was the same person, yet the Gojo Satoru in front of her had eyes that held no recognition of her. The hands that knew exactly how (y/n) liked to be held felt so different.

When Geto's Rainbow Dragon arrived to assist them in battle, the curse decided to flee and wait for the next opportunity to strike. "Ah, running away is the only thing it's good for." (y/n) commented as she collapsed on the ground. When she looked up, Gojo was looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"Are we late?" Geto asked as he arrived with Shoko tagging along. As soon as he saw Gojo standing and shooting looks of suspicion towards (y/n) on the ground, he scratched his head a bit. "Is everything okay...?" He asked.

(y/n)'s wounds were given first aid and all the four sorcerers had assembled at the cafeteria. Gojo Satoru still didn't stop his suspicious glances towards her.

"What?" (y/n) asked, frustrated.

"You did it again." Gojo accused, causing Geto to look up from his strawberry milk carton. "You called me Satoru during the battle." He said.

"Bro seriously, let it go now." Geto commented as Shoko also looked at them curiously.

"I will let it go when she tells me everything." Gojo Satoru said, causing (y/n) to avoid meeting his gaze. "There's more to this curse isn't it? You didn't just come here to give us a heads up, did you?" He asked.

I came here to protect you because you're my boyfriend, just wasn't an easy thing for (y/n) to say to him. It was embarrassing and just felt too uncomfortable to say. So she just remained quiet and took a bite of her snack bar. Geto and Shoko had also lost interest in the matter while Gojo was just restless with nothing else to say.

"(y/n) try this chocolate cookie, it's delicious." Shoko offered extending the cookie towards (y/n)'s mouth.

"Thank you, Shoko!" (y/n) beamed and leaned forward. As she took a bite of the treat, a little pendant with the letter 'S' on a small heart slipped out of her shirt.

"Cute pendant." Shoko commented.

It was an expensive Platinum pendant that (y/n) received as a gift from Gojo on her 28th birthday. She was quite fond of it. Unconsciously, (y/n) held on to it and grinned. She was so used to showing it off to everyone that on instinct, the words slipped out. "Thanks, my boyfriend gave it to me." She said.

The trio became very curious as they exchanged hesitant glances. "I hate to say anything, but..." Shoko started.

"The lesser you tell us, the wilder our conclusions will get.. you know.." Geto said, causing (y/n) to freeze. Funnily enough, Satoru, Suguru and Shoko all names started with an 'S', yet the word boyfriend had narrowed things down a bit.

"H-His name is Sebastian!" (y/n) blurted out the first name that came to her mind and that happened to be her favourite anime character.

"Eh? You have a foreigner boyfriend?" Shoko asked, causing (y/n) to nod desperately.

"Yeah, I met him when I went to America two years ago." (y/n) lied. The truth was that she had never even travelled to a foreign country before.

"You both got excited for no reason." Shoko chuckled, causing Geto to turn away in embarassment.

"I call bullshit. She probably doesn't even speak English. (we're just going to pretend they're speaking in Japanese yay)" Gojo Satoru said, causing (y/n) to glare at him.

"Of course I do." (y/n) was building a tower of lies that would bury her deeply in the rubble if it collapsed anytime soon.

~• Chapter 4 •~

Gojo Satoru

"You're so sweet, I almost don't want to forgive you." Gojo smiled, causing (y/n) to look at him in confusion. She was making expressions he rarely got to see in his girlfriend.

Back in 2015, when Gojo met (y/n) for the first time, he was just disappointed in the new sorcerer that was going to join his team. He didn't share his opinion with anyone, but he thought that at least a Special Grade sorcerer could help him train those students who had potential to become Special Grades in the future. However, he had to make do with a Grade 1 for now.

(y/n) was assigned to several missions with him and her methods were so tiring. (y/n)'s cursed technique was not very special either, it was on the same level as Mai and she was poor at close combat. A few weeks before their first mission together, he saw (y/n) head to the archives library of their school. It was an old building and the last he had stepped inside was almost 10 years ago with Suguru. He would see her go there everyday with a notebook in her hand and to Gojo Satoru, that was honestly just pitiful. It was like donkey work to somehow make up for her lack of competence. However, Gojo Satoru was not mean to others, openly atleast, so he remained quiet.

On their first joint mission, Gojo Satoru did most of the work while (y/n)'s attacks felt more unique and less effective. With a snap of his finger, the battle was over.

"Hey I'm sorry to say this, but we're gonna have to replace you. The students need a Special Grade teacher more than anything. The Grade of battles keep going higher and you just don't cut it." Gojo Satoru said, yet (y/n) didn't even have a hint of shame or guilt on her face. He couldn't believe someone so incompetent and weak carried that much pride in themself.

"And I'm sorry to say this, but I can't be assigned to missions with you. There's no way I'm getting any promotions if you're gonna shadow all my work like that." (y/n) said, causing Gojo Satoru to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh really? You couldn't use your impressive skills because I defeated the curse too early? Well, there's another curse just 15 km away. Would you like to-" Gojo Satoru was interrupted by (y/n) who shook her head.

"No, I need time. Give me three more days and I'll defeat the next curse by myself." She said, causing Gojo to roll his eyes.

"It's a Special Grade."

"I've defeated them before. It won't be an issue. See you later." (y/n) said and started heading towards the train station.

"Ijichi will be here to pick us up, where are you going?"

"I need to get some work done, you go ahead."

After (y/n) left Gojo Satoru felt a little guilty, but that only lasted like 10 seconds. "We can't have a incapable sorcerer teaching students to fight curses in a city. It won't help them improve at all." Then he wondered how Yaga-sensei even employed someone like that without testing their abilities first.

In the three days that (y/n) had asked of Gojo, he saw her spend most of her day in that dusty archives library. Mei Mei had visited the Tokyo Jujutsu school on official business and he even noticed how (y/n) had a meeting with her and preferred her advice over his own. Clearly, Mei Mei wasn't a Special Grade either so it made sense for them to discuss battle strategies.

When the day of the battle arrived, (y/n) was full of confidence in her eyes. The battle that Gojo Satoru could've ended in five minutes, (y/n) took around half an hour. (y/n)'s key strength was her knowledge of the curse, it's weaknesses, what type of attacks were likely to cause the most damage, she knew the curse inside out. All that knowledge made up for her lack of a fancy cursed technique.

Bloodied and battered (y/n) dealt a finishing blow to the Special Grade and collapsed on her knees. She didn't look back at Gojo Satoru once, (y/n) stood up with shaky legs and reached for her phone in her pocket. "Ah, it's broken, should've left it in the car."

"Uh.." Gojo Satoru started, causing (y/n) to turn around. "I.. take back what I said that day. You.. You're approved to teach at Tokyo Jujutsu school." He said, but (y/n) just blinked, then went back to looking at her broken phone.

"Isn't that obvious? I was approved the day I was employed here. I just don't understand why they would assign us a mission together. You're so disgustingly strong, you should clearly be given solo missions." She said and Gojo took a few seconds to process whether she was insulting him or complimenting him. "Are you hungry?" She asked him and Gojo could only follow her like a puppy.

(y/n) was so confident in herself and never yielded to anything. The whole reason why she was transferred from the Kyoto Jujutsu school was because she constantly raised her voice against the underhanded methods used by principal Gakuganji and the corrupt school administration. At this point, even the students had started to ignore her, but Gojo Satoru was satisfied to know that there were others who felt the same way as him about the higher authorities controlling Jujutsu society.

That is why when 19 year old (y/n) just apologised straight away, Gojo Satoru couldn't help but laugh. "Eh? Why are you laughing?" She asked innocently, causing him to gently brush her hair away from her face.

"I'm kind of thankful to this curse." Gojo Satoru said and (y/n) looked at him in confusion. She pointed at her injured legs and he laughed and shook his head. "Not for that. I just don't think I would've had a chance to know you like this if I hadn't come back." He said and (y/n) tilted her head to the side.

"I don't understand a lot of things you say. I still don't believe you're... my.. boyfriend." She looked away.

"Why? Are you disappointed? Am I not what you imagined your ideal boyfriend to be like? I'm not hot enough?" Gojo Satoru asked, just to get a reaction out of her.

"It's not like that... You're actually very h-" (y/n) said, then realised what Gojo was trying to get her to say and she immediately stopped herself. Gojo Satoru only chuckled in response.

"Do you feel better now?" Gojo asked, causing (y/n) to nod. "Were you scared earlier?" He asked and memories of being helplessly dragged away by the curse came back to (y/n).

"Yeah, I really thought I was... gonna die." She said softly and looked down. So honest. Gojo Satoru had never known (y/n) to be so open and vulnerable without him having to persist.

"Then come here." He said and pulled (y/n) on his lap. She looked back at him in surprise and embarrassment. "I'll protect you." Gojo Satoru wrapped his arms around (y/n) who didn't protest even a little. It felt so warm and safe to be held by Gojo and (y/n) just wanted to believe everything he told her, even if it all sounded like lies. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

When Gojo pulled back to look at her face, he realised how bad he wanted to kiss her. Memories of his first kiss with (y/n) came back in a flash. The night Gojo had just returned from a wedding of his distant relative. He was out all day and extremely tired as he stepped inside the campus. He took off his coat, loosened his tie and just sat on a bench in the garden. He used his arm to cover his face and rested his head against the back rest. Gojo didn't wear his blindfold to formal events like weddings, yet his eyes were still covered by his hands.

He felt her cursed energy before he heard her footsteps head towards him with a purpose. "Gojo! Why does this say you've taken back my application to become a Special Grade sorcerer?!" (y/n) asked pulling his tie to wake him up.

"Hmm?" Gojo lazily opened his eyes to find (y/n) in a yellow skirt and a white summer tank top. She looked so cute with her hair tied up into a bun and as always, she had something sharp to say to him.

She showed him the withdrawal document and placed one hand on her hip. "How dare you?" She started. "How can you withdraw my application without asking me?"

"You aren't qualified to be a Special Grade sorcerer." He said, then went back to placing his arm over his eyes.

"You don't get to decide that!" (y/n) yelled, earning no response from him. "And you have the audacity to sleep?" She shook his head. "Wake up, Gojo!" She shook him harshly, causing Gojo to open his eyes. He pulled her towards him on the bench.

"Special Grade sorcerers are always given the worst missions and I've lost countless friends to a stupid title like that. Stop chasing it, please." He said and (y/n) just had nothing to say to him. "Do you know why Mei-san is still a Grade 1 sorcerer? With her current abilities, she could easily pass for a Special Grade, yet she just stopped trying. It's because she's selfish. Can't you be like that too?"

"Gojo..." (y/n) looked at him, her anger now replaced with worry and sadness. "That's still not your decision to make..."

"Satoru."

"Huh?"

"Don't call me Gojo, you should call me Satoru."

"You act like a kid." (y/n) sighed. "Being a Special Grade sorcerer will help me become stronger in the future. The tougher battles I face, the stronger I'll get over time."

"You want a strong opponent? Fight me all you like. I won't go easy on you. I'm the strongest you'll ever encounter." He said desperately and pulled her to sit on his lap. (y/n) and Gojo were interested in each other from a long time, but it was only that day Gojo had put aside all his inhibitions and acted on his desire.

Looking at the 19 year old (y/n) he remembered how soft her lips were and how gently she kissed him, slow and sensual. "A-Are we going to kiss?" (y/n) whispered causing him to snap out of his thoughts.

He held her tighter and shook his head. "No we're not." He said and thought of how naive (y/n) was ten years ago. She was wiser and a lot more careful when he met her for the first time. He just stayed like that as (y/n) rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Further chapters will be updated soon. Comment if you want to be tagged.

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