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apricityxoxo · 2 months

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Help and Care

✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

✧.* wc 5,786 (teheeheee)

✧.* summary: he definitely didn't need help, he doesn't need someone to care for him. no one has ever helped him before, and no one ever cared so why would they start now. he doesn't care, he definitely doesn't need help. so why does he keep ending up in the infirmary with the beautiful nurse? and why does he keep coming back to you?

✧.* contents: fluff, a bit of angst, and a sprinkle of suggestive dialogue

here's the whole story! it took me a while but I hope you all enjoy it, sorry I'm a perfectionist. I had a lot of fun writing this but let me know what you all think. i might write a pt 2 to this idk. Also pls excuse the medical and military inaccuracies

enjoy

Help. He hates help. He can’t stand it. When others look at him, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see himself as someone dependent on others. Why else would he enlist, he didn’t need help, he learned that the hard way. No one ever helped him and he adjusted, so why would he need help now? People are dependent on him; they rely on him. When someone is injured, scared, or dead it’s up to him to fix the situation, to solve the problems of others, to carry the fallen.

When Price told him to go to the nurse he was upset, actually, he was pissed. He was not a child who scraped his knee playing football at school. He was a soldier; he was more than a mere man. He knew how to endure, he knew how to carry his weight, and he knew that he didn’t need to see the nurse. He knew what was wrong with him, he just bruised his ribs. He didn’t need some old woman with a bad attitude to tell him what he already knew.

He endured and he resisted the pain for exactly two weeks, but the pain was only getting worse. He was confused and didn’t know what to do, he hoped that no one had noticed and he didn’t want people to start. He didn’t want questions or concerns, he wanted relief and nothing more.

He thought no one would notice and he was so wrong.

Training.

Simon hated training the new recruits, they were cocky and they didn’t know their place. They thought after joining and passing the initial physical exams, they were done.

They were most definitely not done. They needed to adjust, physically and mentally, to fit in. Many people think the initial physical and mental exams are where new recruits break, no they break here, during training…with him. He hated it but knew why Price asked him to do it.

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Price usually did rounds during training, he watched the recruits and the techniques of the other task forces. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood filled his system and that smell drew his attention to Ghost. Today he felt the need to check on Ghost and see how he was doing. Ghost was a good teacher even though he didn’t realize this, Price did though.

Ghost was mean, harsh, and disciplined, and the people he taught tended not to last long, however, the ones who did turn out to be great because the one thing that Ghost teaches best is endurance.

When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and confused. This was most definitely different from the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.

Usually after training, the rookies would be sore, and in pain, sometimes they might even need to be excused to nurse. However, these past few weeks the rookies have been surprisingly...fine. Maybe even better than fine and it's been making them cocky, it's boosted some of their egos.

It would probably boost his ego too, Price chuckled. If he were to beat the big, brutal, scary Ghost while still a rookie. However, they are starting to get obnoxious because they are taunting and boasting, which is certainly something that Price could not have. It was starting to piss him off. Price was going to tell Ghost that if he didn’t put these pricks in line, there were going to be consequences.

That was the plan, but then he took a closer look and that’s when he saw it.

He saw the way that Ghost taking more hits than normal, he was slow to react and he was even slower to respond. His stance was off as well, usually his form made him feel like a giant among men but now he looked like he was shrinking himself, like it was his first day of training. Ghost wasn’t pulling his punches, he wasn't holding back, he was weak.

Now he was pissed.

Price knew.

Price knew exactly why Ghost wasn’t as strong as he usually is, why his punches aren’t as powerful as they normally are. Ghost was a disobedient bastard and Price was pissed.

“STOP! That’s enough training for today, soldiers.”

“Ghost, come now!”

“Yes, Captain” Ghost replied in his thick Manchester accent.

“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”

“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”

“You’re just hurt, did you go to the nurse?” Price knew the answer.

“I didn’t feel the need to go to the medical facility Capt’n”

“You didn’t feel the need to go?” Price asked Simon and looked at him like he was crazy. Since when did his soldiers feel the need for an opinion?

“If you don’t get your ass to the medical facility right now, you’re going to be training these pricks for three months straight. You understand?”

“Yessir!”

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Unbelievable!

He doesn’t need to be here. As he walks to the nurse’s offices, he feels everyone's eyes on him. He’s rarely ever here and because of that it draws the eye, lots of them. He thanked his balaclava every day because without it, based on the face he was making, some might think he was actually nervous.

He doesn’t want some old hag telling him what to do and degrading him for not coming sooner. Some old nurse or doctor telling him everything he already knows just to insult him and show off their vast vocabulary just to try and make him feel small. that’s what they all do, that’s what his father did.

He approaches the front desk and the older woman tells him to go to office number 222. He makes his way over, navigating the hallways, and he finds the office. The sign is decorated with small pink flowers and a white cat with a red bow. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Before he goes and knocks on the door, he dries his palms on his pants, desperately hoping to get over this.

Knock-knock.

Some time passed but then he heard a soft voice say…

“Come on in”

He opened the door and he was surprised that the soft voice matched a beautifully soft face. A face with beautifully unique features that worked together in harmony to make the beautiful woman that sat before him.

God damn.

Those were the only words on his mind.

It wasn’t an old woman who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder and carried a deep grudge, nor someone who looked like they were going to insult him… no. definitely not.

It was a young woman.

A beautiful young woman.

A beautiful young woman with the most inviting features. Absolutely gorgeous, he’s never seen a woman this beautiful ever on this base. He feels like she doesn’t belong here, her face is an exact contrast to the environment he surrounds himself every day. He has a million questions he wants to ask her, and he feels the strong urge to get closer to her. He’s such a creep. He doesn’t even know her name.

He feels his mouth goes dry and his hands sweat. Gross. He hasn’t felt this way since Secondary School, he feels like a dork and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you!” Her voice was cheery and if he was a little bit more nervous, he wouldn’t notice the shock on her face and the tremble in her voice. He was used to that reaction; it was probably due to his appearance. her voice matched her face and he felt his heart beat faster, he finally was going to die.

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He was just staring at you, he was just looking. You’ve heard rumors of him, of his personality. The big bad Ghost, the professional killer who lacks mercy for anyone. He was just staring at you and it was freaking you out. What’s wrong with him, why is he here in the nurse's office? Did he hurt someone? Or worse…

He’s still staring.

“… excuse me, is everything alright?”

“Erm…yeah, sorry” he responded and if your mind weren’t running a mile a minute you would have heard the way he sounded nervous.

He clears his throat and then replies “Captain Price has recommended I take a visit down here.” God his voice was so deep. He was so smooth, he had a thick accent that wasn’t like any of the others you heard on base. His voice was not at all soft but the way he spoke made something bubble inside you.

Wait. ‘take a visit down here’

Oh. He needed help.

“Oh… okay sir, what seems to be the problem?” You try your best to put on your customer service voice and hide the fact that you're wondering what this man might need help with.

“Erm… last deployment I bruised my ribs real bad, don't know how…”

You try to listen, you have to pretend to do so. You're writing as he describes his symptoms. He has stomach pain, difficulty breathing, tenderness in his abdomen, and bruising. He describes his symptoms and you feel so bad for him and at the same time, you feel disgusted in yourself.

Disgusted because instead of being focused on how he describes his pain, you focused on his attractive ass voice. You can't help it, you're just a girl.

No, You need to remain a professional.

“Okay Lieutenant Riley, if it's all right with you, I’d like to examine your abdomen.”

“Yeah… that's fine” he sounds hesitant you feel bad… you feel like you need to reassure him.

“Don't worry lieutenant, I'm sure everything is going to be just fine.” you try to reassure him and when you do, you unconsciously give him a soft smile.

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Well, you have to ask him to take off his shirt. That was something that didn't occur to you. He doesn't have to comply, you could do the whole checkup with his shirt on. You hope he doesn't so you save yourself from embarrassment.

“Sir, if you do not mind, may I ask you to remove your um… t-shirt?” you ask, trying your hardest to remain professional. It's completely reasonable for a medical professional to ask a patient to remove their shirt when they had an abdomen injury.

“You don't necessarily have to I'm sure I can find a way to…”

“I don't mind” Lieutenant Riley cuts you off as he agrees.

He sits on the examination table and removes his shirt.

You think you just died. You are short of breath and you think you died because there's an angel right in front of you. If you were anywhere else you would admire his powerfully built body, but you were more concerned with the bruising on his stomach.

You feel and you touch his body, extremely concerned about his well-being. His stomach was black and blue, his stomach was sore, and he could barely bend over.

You were worried but also shocked because this man worked and trained in such a condition for about a week. You knew of Simon Riley and you knew of his reputation and this just supported the fact that he's an absolute abled-bodied unit… it was almost scary.

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“I believe you have a few broken ribs…sir.” You say almost scared of his reaction. He needed x-rays, actually he needed time off.

“I'll recommend you an off-base X-ray Tech to take pictures of your abdomen, I also recommended to your captain that you take time off to heal. After we get your x-rays, I recommend you visit me every two weeks so we can look over your progress ” You tell him, distracted as you look over all your notes.

“Oh ok, every two weeks, and how long will it take to heal…” Luitenent Riley asked, he sounded nervous and you started to feel bad for talking to him so nonchalantly about his condition.

“Um should take about two months to heal. Ribs tend to heal rather quickly, however, since they weren't treated earlier it might take a while longer. Don't worry I’m sure you'll feel better rather quickly.” You try to give him a little bit of comfort. You give Luitenent Riley instructions, stating how to take care of himself and treat his injuries.

He collects his stuff and is getting ready to leave before he turns around looks you up and meets your eye.

“Thank you so much luv, ‘preciate it.” He tells you, in a soft accented voice.

“It's not a problem Luitenent.” You tell him and you feel your heart pick up its pace.

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Week 2

He was supposed to visit today, you were expecting him today. You had all of his notes laid out and you were just waiting.

Waiting.

Other patients came and went but you were still looking forward to one specific client. The first time he visited you had no time to admire his large and confident stance when he walked into the room. He walked into the room with utter confidence as if he knew it would have an effect on you.

AND GAHHH LEEE

When he removed his shirt, you don't know how you controlled yourself. You knew he was a big man with a hefty build but you were not expecting what you saw. Your eyes were blessed with a solid, broad-shouldered, athletic man.

The literal definition of manly, if he wasn't in the military you were sure he would be off somewhere chopping wood or something. If you weren't at work you're sure you would be lying in bed kicking your feet.

When he spoke to you he had such a deep and low baritone voice that was heavily accented. You never had a thing for accents but he was something else completely. Low and intimidating, his language was professional but you could tell that he was trying not to curse and use slang. It's embarrassing to think about the things you'd do to hear him, swear or even say your name. In your head you know you’d sound like a rabid dog if he’d said it in that attractive ass voice-

Then you hear your name and think you might die. Actually, it was your last name and your medical title. But still—

It’s him.

He’s here.

Remain professional! you scream and shout at yourself.

You greet him and try to make small talk, asking him how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and what he’s been doing with his time off. It's hard, he's such a beefy and attractive man. You can't even see his face but based on just the way he walks, you know he's fine.

Admittedly, working on this base that’s far away from your home made you forget how to act around an attractive man…

“Been reading too, I'm trying to distract myself. If ya have any recommendations just let me know.” he interrupts your thoughts and you relate to him. It gets boring between deployment he tells.

“What do you usually do between deployments?” you ask, sincerely.

“Train, train myself then train with others.” He replies.

You don’t ask anything else, you know that he must miss training every day. The way he says it makes you feel bad. You know many of the soldiers find solitude when they work on themselves and train. It calms them and helps them recover, it's almost a form of therapy. Simon can't do that, not with his injury. You feel a pang in your chest.

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You go over his notes and x-rays. You give him a checkup and note that he’s healing rather quickly, based on the other scars you know that this isn’t his worst injury.

You catch his eyes when you are going over everything with him and explaining your notes to him. He’s looking at you with his golden green eyes, staring you up and down. You feel sort of embarrassed because you don't feel cute at this moment. You didn’t put makeup on in the morning, just gloss on your plumped lip and curled your eyelashes. Your wash day is coming up too so you wrapped your hair in a colorful scar today.

The way he looked at you was the way men would look when you would walk into a club. When you had a full face and your hair was freshly done. When you had a tight and short dress that would accentuate your beautiful curves. When you knew that you looked stunning that's the way he was looking at you, right now.

His visit was finished and you put the date for the next visit in your calendar. Before he leaves he thanks you.

“I don't like doctors but I appreciate all you've done for me, miss.”

“Thank you Luitenenent, if you ever need a book recommendation you can always come see me.”

“Thank you.” He tells you and even though you can't see his face, you feel a smile radiate off him.

You feel like he’s such a kind man.

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Week 4

Today, on his next visit, he’s not as kind.

You know why. You can tell that he's antsy, that he wants to get back to work. He’s rushing the process and wants to do everything you told him not to do. He wants to disregard all the instructions you gave him. You’re used to that, soldiers want to get back to their daily routine and they’re itching to do something strenuous during the healing process.

You would be fine with that if it were not for his shortness with you. He was annoyed and that was completely acceptable but there was no need to be curt and downright rude to you.

His answers were short. After each question, while trying to make small talk he replied with a ‘Mmhmm’. He didn't make eye contact with you and when you would suggest activities for him to try and distract him, he would roll his eyes and brush it off.

He didn't want to chat and you feel like this is not the same man, who came to visit last time.

Today’s visit was short, there was clearly no need for small talk on his end and no time for the flirting you wanted to do.

You did yourself up today too and now that you think back at it, it feels like a waste of time. You enjoyed the visit you had with him last time you were looking forward to today's visit. However, that feeling quickly dissipated, when Luitenenent Riley came in with a bad attitude and short tone. You had no time for this today, you think you even returned that same energy. So the visit was short and he left with a slammed door following behind him.

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Lunchtime came around and you were most definitely looking forward to it. After a long day, that wasn't even over, all you wanted to do was eat. You grab your book and sit in your designated corner to eat in the loud cafeteria.

You feel relaxed when you start eating and open up your book. The loud cafeteria with the chatter of men and women surrounds you. It's kind of calming when you think about it. The laughs, small talk, and clattering cutlery fade in the background around you. This is just what you need after such a long and tiresome day.

You try to focus on your book but then you are interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“Is this seat taken?” You glance up from your book, you find him standing there, his presence commanding attention even in the busy room. Lieutenant Riley is looking down at you with a food tray in his hands. He refers to the seat across from you and you shake your head no. You try to avoid eye contact when he sits down, still feeling annoyed from earlier.

He lifts his balaclava over his mouth and you both eat in silence. There’s a growing tension around you both.

You eat your food and busy yourself with your book, however you can feel him looking at you. He ate in silence, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before darting away.

It was irritating.

Earlier he was being rude and barely talking to you and now he was acting timid, the audacity. You started to pick up the pace and eat your lunch faster.

Then he interrupted his silence with his deep sultry voice.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was disrespectful to you when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry. I've honestly been sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing that I took out my anger on you and for that, I apologize.” It sounded like he practiced this. It makes you smile thinking about the Ghost practicing an apology in the mirror. You can just imagine him practicing and it warms your heart that he put this much energy into an apology.

“Thank you for your apology.” You reply in a soft voice.

There was silence for a while but it was interrupted by your voice.

“Um…I know it's hard, not being able to do the things you used to be able to do. I'm sure soon you will be able to get back to your routine and do everything that you want to do… and more. If You need to talk to someone, you can always come and see me. ” You tell him, a bit timidly. All you want to bring comfort to him and reassure him.

“Thank you,” he replies.

“No problem Luitenent” you respond.

“Call me, Simon.”

That was the end of the conversation. There was a soft smile on your face, and you both sat in a comfortable silence, taking quick glances at each other.

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Week 6

This next visit was much more casual than the previous two. Throughout the whole week before this upcoming visit, he’s been stopping by your office.

In the beginning, he would just stop and say hello and indulge you with some small talk. Nothing more than checking in on you and asking how your day was. However lately, he’s been getting comfortable here. He’s claimed the large decorative leather chair in the corner of your office, closest to your desk.

He would just sit there and talk to you about anything and everything. Conversations went from favorite foods to his most recent reads to how long you’ve been an RN.

The other nurses in the building have gotten used to his presence in your office. When they come to visit or drop something off, his presence doesn’t throw them off anymore. They’re used to the large man sitting comfortably in your office.

Today was no different, he stopped by in the morning and you both got to chatting. An hour went by when it felt like mere minutes. Time flew by so fast that you almost forgot about his checkup.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “I'm such an idiot, I almost forgot why you were here Simon.” you shoot up from your desk and walk over to the examination table, slapping it twice with a big grin on your face

“Alright Simon, let’s get this over with!” You sell him with a large smile on your face.

Simon slaps his knees and pushes himself off of the deep and comfortable chair. He makes his way across your office looking at all of the flowers around your office and the Sanrio Characters you have scattered around.

When he gets to the examination table, just as you're about to move out of the way, he grabs your waist and moves you to the side. He lets his hands linger and he makes eye contact with you as he sits on the chair.

You're certain he’s smiling under that stupid balaclava.

Cocky bastard.

You clear your throat and attempt to focus on your work. The checkup only lasts a few minutes, he’s getting so much better. You would be so excited to tell him that he can start getting back to his normal routine, but you're distracted.

Distracted because he’s so touchy. First, he touches your waist, he must know that it has some sort of effect on you because then he touches your clothes.

During the checkup when you need to do something basic and mindless, he grabs the corner of your coat and rubs yours between his fingers. When you speak to him he’s doing the same with your black scrubs.

“You can start getting back to your regular routine, like training and stuff. Don’t rush it or anything, just …baby steps'' you say, you move yourself to stand in between his legs.

“That right?” He asks but he’s not focused on what you say. He’s focused on your plump lips and you think it’s turning you on. His eyes slowly make their way back to your eyes.

“Mmmhhh! But nothing too rough.” You reply looking back at him. You feel his hands make their way up your waist.

“Not even a little rough?” He asks. You both start to lean closer and he takes one hand off of your waist and takes it toward his mask.

Oh god! What is he doing? Is he going to show his face? Kiss you! Or maybe—

Knock Knock

The loud knock draws your attention away from Simon and you pull yourself away from between his legs.

You clear your throat and attempt to fix yourself even though you two have done nothing.

“Come in!” You shout, voice cracking a bit.

One of the more intimidating on-field military nurses enters your office. Unlike you, this nurse is trained for the field and it shows. She is tall with broad muscular shoulders, and she confidently walks into the room with a skeptical look on her face.

She takes a look at both you and Simon before addressing you. Telling you that your presence is wanted somewhere else.

“Oh okay… I’ll be there in five ma’am.” You reply and she makes her way out of your office with a raised eyebrow at Simon.

“Okay, Simon! your next check is in two weeks and that’s your last one, congratulations.” You address Simon trying to make it seem like you don’t remember the moment you two had before you were interrupted. Simon stands and makes his way over to you, stops right in front of you, and towers over you. If he was anyone else you’d give them hell for popping your personal space bubble.

“Alright…Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at you.

“Are you injured?” You ask sarcastically.

“Got a paper cut. That’s what I get for reading” He shows you his thumb and starts to chuckle. You laugh right along with him. You look up at him and nod, you smile while biting your lip.

“See you tomorrow Si”

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Week 8

Two months.

He’s known you for two months and he still doesn’t know how to act around you. This past month he’s seen you almost every day constantly visiting you. He feels like every day he’s getting to know you better and better. You’re a genius, graduating high school and college early which explains why you're so young. You love this little Japanese cat thing that’s called Hello Kitty. Your favorite flowers are tulips, and that’s something that stuck out to him.

Tulips stuck out so much that he used his last day of time off to go out off base and buy you some. Today is his last official visit with you but he most definitely doesn’t want to make it his last time seeing you. He wants to see you more, a lot more. He wants to see you outside of work, he wants to see you outside your work clothes. He wants to see you in jeans, a dress, in his bed—

He shakes his head, trying to stop himself from thinking like that. It’s disrespectful to you, he hasn’t known you for longer than a couple of months, and he can’t think about you that way.

It’s hard not thinking like that. He thinks about his third visit with you, when you both were rudely interrupted. He thinks about what your waist feels like, what your face looks like. He thinks about it often, especially at night–

He cringes at himself, he feels like a teenage boy who’s never touched a woman.

He tries to distract himself by looking at the tulips he bought for you. They’re closed and pink with long green stems. They’re beautiful just like you. He doesn’t understand, how someone can be so effortlessly beautiful.

When you wear makeup or no makeup: beautiful. When you have your hair down and natural, sleek and bone straight, or up in braids, buns, or a scarf: beautiful. He can’t begin to comprehend it.

Not only are you beautiful on the outside you have the personality of a goddess. You’re kind and compassionate but not afraid to snap back when someone gets out of line. That’s what makes him nervous, the doubts start flooding his mind.

He’s still staring at the tulips when Soap enters his room. Unannounced.

Soap comes into his quarters and scatters around the room. He looks in draws and under furniture, he's scattering stuff around as if he lives here. He is tossing his stuff around and looking in places he shouldn't be. Ghost hasn't even looked up, hasn't even acknowledged his presence. Ghost rolls his eyes so far back into his head when he hears Johnny whining to himself.

“What’re ya lookin’ for Johnny?” He inquires in an irritated tone.

“Lookin’ for my char–” He cuts himself off as finally looks up at Simon. He sees Simon slouched over his bed looking at the pot with pretty pink tulips and a wide, knowing, mischievous grin appears on his face. He looks like the Cheshire cat.

“Look at you Simon, those for that bird you've become so fond of…”

“Watch it Johnny” Ghost finally looks up, he's not pleased. Johnny continues like a mindless, careless, idiot.

“I've heard the rumors, some field nurse says she saw you two in her office…alone. Good on you Riley. Yer getting old now, ya deserve something like that. Herd shes a beauty too. ” He laughs obnoxiously at his own jokes. He slaps Ghost on the hard on his back and continues searching around his room

Ghost sits in silence for a while, thinking about Johnny’s words, he knows that he is joking, he’s not serious.

‘“Whatdya mean by I deserve something like that?” He finally inquires, the question was practically running around his mind. Johnny continued searching around the room as he answered his question.

“Well you know, ya have had a hard life. Yer always helping people, always trying to be the best, and ya never really had that soft life. I know ya don't think it but yer a good man and you deserve a good woman. We don't live forever so think ya should take the risk and do what you have to do… Are you sure you don't have my charger? He asked after giving some of the most meaningful advice that he'd ever heard.

“Get out,” he replied annoyed by his short attention span.

“Maybe Gaz has it,” he says and leaves the room as if nothing happened.

Those words resonate with Simon and he thinks about them for a long time. The time of the appointment was getting closer and closer. He couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he was going to say to you. He wanted to make it meaningful, he wanted to ask you out on a date.

He wanted your friendship to continue and he wanted your relationship to grow and become more and more personal. He hasn't done this in a long time and he wanted it to mean something.

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15 minutes.

He had 15 minutes to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

As he made his way down the familiar hallway toward your office, every step seemed to quicken the pace of his heartbeat. The clock was counting down, each second would go by, getting closer to the moment. In his hands, he held a bouquet of vibrant tulips. He knows that he is catching the eyes of the people around him but each person he passed seemed to fade into the background.

It felt like when he visited you the first time, his hands were sweating and he was nervous. He says ‘hello’ to the woman at the front desk. Even though her attitude has always been rude and uptight however he thanks her every day for sending him to office number 222. The number that completely changed his life.

Now, standing just a few steps away from your door, his mind blanked, and his carefully rehearsed words were completely forgotten. Doubt starting to flood his veins. His hands are sweating again, and his heart is beating a mile a minute. He doesn't know if he can do this, he feels like it is a mistake but his feet won't stop.

They won't stop because even though his brain is telling him to stop, his heart won't let him.

It's been years since he's ever felt this nervous, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He finally arrives in front of your door and holds the flowers behind his back. He gets ready to knock and says a silent prayer to whoever or whatever higher being is listening.

He knocks.

He waits a beat and then he hears your beautiful voice say “Come on in.”

Right as you say that without thinking Simon impulsively rips off his balaclava off his face and opens the door. He watches as you slowly look up and he swears he sees a natural glow around you.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

He doesn't respond, instead, he slowly brings the tulips to his front and presents them to you with a soft smile. You look at the man and he watches as you raise an eyebrow, it's like he can see the clogs turning in your head. Then he sees the pieces being put together in your head and your face lights up.

“Simon?” You ask with a gorgeous smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆｡ ˚⋆

giggling and kicking my feet

#roma’s works ❀#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x black reader #ghost x reader #x fem!reader #x reader #simon riley x f!reader #call of duty #x black fem reader #reader insert #fanfiction #x black reader #fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare ghost #modern warfare two

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lxmelle · 1 month

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The man surrounded by the theme of love…

Geto.

Gege has made several writing choices to depict Geto as someone who was handsome and loved - arguably more than any other character in the series. Maybe Gege loves him the most - not complaining at all.

More under the cut - just a few visuals I’ve collected to demonstrate this. I’m certainly not alone in noticing it and there may be others who show this much better, lol. Tag me in if you want to share!!

My post does end with a not-so brief analysis which you can skip if you wish.

Geto, despite being cursed at birth with the technique to absorb the ills of the world, the very skill that led him to fight alongside Gojo as part of the Strongest Duo - by design, each others’ counterpart in so many ways - a twist of fate led them onto opposite paths, leading to complete imbalance, one that drove him into madness.

If Geto in some ways represented Love, it is truly the most twisted curse of all which played a part in his death.

Geto witnessed the most love confessions in the whole series - I found (and stole) it off twitter/now X:

The Japanese originals seem more compelling to me:

Riko says “daisuki” whereas Yuta uses a more traditional “Aishiteru” which, is quite embarrassing of a confession, and therefore almost hints at what could be Gojo’s last words to Geto, if it directly parallels Yuta & Rika’s relationship. And that expression Geto wears when he sees Riko and Kuroi struggle with separating?

That does not look like a person who cannot sympathise and empathise with people. Geto was a person who cared too much, and in search for a way to protect those he cared for, needed an outlet and something (in this case, lesser being, the humans) to blame. He descended into a mania and much like shinobu sensui from yu yu hakusho, seemed to develop some kind of mental disorder due to being unable to carry the conflicting ideals together. The dissonance the world presented to him was just too cruel, and he himself became a weapon to defend his ideals.

Before his defection, Geto was liked by his peers:

Haibara

Mei Mei

Loved by his family for and despite his ideals:

Mimiko and Nanako

Shibuya crew liked/loved him and carried his will/beliefs even after his death, in their own ways, as family:

Miguel and Larue in the most recent chapter to date:

Translations (rough):

Larue: You and me alike, we just wanted Suguru-chan to be King.

Miguel: Yea, I followed just because it was Geto. After shibuya, I trained Okkotsu and I don’t want anything to do with the country anymore. (Something along these lines; a little too complicated for my rudimentary Japanese)

Larue: You , me, Mimiko, Nanako, Manami, Toshihisa, everyone just really liked/loved Suguru-chan.

Canonically, he was known to be handsome and popular:

Takaba

Gege’s character book:

JJK popularity poll:

I do not have screengrabs of how Manami and Larue joined, but it was said to be due to how handsome they thought he was.

Maybe he was like Rika, who did realise how she came across in her life, and manipulated people, lol. But that’s a bit of a stretch to bring that parallel/similarity in. Geto was just quite a magnetic person, according to Gege.

And in the most roundabout way:

Gojo:

“my one and only”

“Love is the most twisted curse...” “curse me a little at the end.”

“I don’t need love to satisfy me” ... “if you were there I might’ve have been satisfied”

While love surrounds Geto, the theme that follows Gojo appears to be “the strongest” cursed; he was admired, revered, feared, and disliked by many. It truly breaks my heart, to think of what he had to give up to carry the weight of this for his whole life, until the very end.

This looks like the most dizzyingly lonely picture of Gojo. It was indeed ironic to have it all but to embody what it means to have an unlimited void by being totally different.

He suffered so much for his power and to have carried this strength. The sorcerer world was practically on his shoulders. The balance was up to him; everyone relied on him. Every time he tried to protect his love (geto) it seemed to fail. It worsened each time, ending with his own demise. But of course that’s just a dramatic interpretation - I don’t really mean/believe that, but it is one way to see the tragedy between Gojo and Geto. Strength at the expense of love; it plays out with the strongest this far as those identifying with this title are plagued by loneliness and do not know love.

They met before things got twisted within themselves, between them. Even after Geto left, Gojo seemed to be looking and waiting for him - to prove his trust for him almost as if he saw through his illusions and lies. Geto was the shadow (Yin) and Gojo was the light (Yang). Only the light can see through the dark. I’ll leave the gojo characterisation for another time / to other better writers.

For now, I’ll just say that I felt that he had planned for the possibility of losing to Sukuna (with the various things we see him do between scheduling the 24th and the actual day) and if he won, he’d just carry on the plan to cremate Geto on top of saving everyone and being a good example as the strongest. Worst case scenario, he would weaken Sukuna and I guess just die on the same day as Geto - idk, maybe as a form of redemption for one of his most painful experiences in life. Who knows?

I headcanon he was relieved to pass on, doing his part to defend the world that relied on him so much, with a big bang - a really fun fight.

And I’m glad they found each other at the end - the loved and the lost.

Back to Geto:

We don’t get much insight into what Geto wanted or felt aside from a world that was better for sorcerers, those he cared about. Even at the afterlife scene, or in subsequent chapters, we only hear from others rather than Geto.

Call me biased and delusional; I believe he didn’t kill the innocent despite saying he hated them all. He loved and hurt so strongly that he hated with almost equal force. He did want to force evolution and eventually extinguish all human kind, to him: the ignorant source of suffering, but I’m glad he didn’t manage to get Rika. I headcanon that he was aware he was losing himself by defying his own principles (to kill sorcerers) for his own gain. That, and Rika with a binding vow for a life, no less, was just too powerful.

In the official character book, Geto was described as someone who told himself that he hated humans a lot, like a reminder. He didn’t kill people indiscriminately. I’m sure he was well aware of how evil he had become but he had chosen, hadn’t he? He expressed to Yuta, that self-affirmation was incredibly important in his view. And the more he interacted with the students, I think the more his humanity fought back - I mean, he was standing there crying from being so moved by what he saw. He also let Yuta heal his friends. How villainous? Or how incredibly loving in spite of himself?

Geto has been shown to lie to others too: jjk 0: described having lied to the school about the conditions for obtaining a cursed spirit, and after defecting: upon taking stage for the first time, stating that the looking the part (wearing gojokesa) was important (ie lying). At his death’s door, he also prefaces with, no matter what anyone says - why would there be a need for that if he wasn’t telling a half-truth? He sought to avenge Riko (first person at the cult he killed after calling him onto the stage + cue mic throw) and the village represented a bunch of people who he slaughtered out of rage and ignorance. I’m definitely not defending him here - his actions are reprehensible. My headcanon view is that he didn’t know how to live with himself after snapping and that was the only path laid before him, which he ardently committed to.

I just think that he held onto a form of love/humanity still- Gojo and Geto both did. Without it, Geto would’ve become the Queen of curses due to Rika (uncaring about his family, or killing young sorcerors despite witnessing the students’ bond and yuta’s selfless power of love in jjk0) and Gojo may have focused on training at all cost without embracing Geto’s principles and becoming a teacher to change the jujutsu world - he could’ve become the next Sukuna and take the title of the King of curses instead - crowning them both King and Queen - instead of both the King and Queen contributing to their deaths. Anyway, I digress...

Geto appears very mother-coded in his protective and defensive relations to the girls, but also to Riko, Kuroi, and Gojo - especially after Toji had killed them. He was so fiercely trying to avenge and defend them, but failing that had a huge effect on him. Moreover, Haibara - innocent, glowingly positive - suffered an undeserved death. It weighed so heavily on Geto, that he didn’t defend Gojo when Nanami vented about leaving things to Gojo who seemed to take it all in his stride, almost insinuating that Geto, too, had little autonomy but to carry on that cycle of curse consumption he began to loathe.

Yuki also underlined the meaninglessness of the death / sacrifice / relationship rupture / suffering. And like the novel implies: Geto was too sincere for this world. He just loved too deeply and wounds cut him too painfully. At just 17... what inner resources were they forced to develop?

He was disillusioned by the system, but respected that Gojo had a place there. This is also SatoSugu indulgent: He never once attempted to talk Gojo into joining him, despite it being the most logical choice, but Geto was the emotional and loving kind - he prioritised Gojo over his ideals / himself. This man was willing to die trying to pursue his ideals, but didn’t want to try convincing his friend even if he know it might fail. What does that say about him? I think it says he loved Gojo. And Gojo loved him.

He masked like Gojo did : the infamous “yeah I’d win” and Geto’s “I’ve made my choice” and his face fell as he had his back turned, stating that he just needed to do it to the best of his ability. This may be headcanon but it does seem plausible to me. He was under no illusions about what he had done. To love was to turn away too. To love was to let the other go. Sigh.

Backtracking a bit: When Geto encountered the twin girls, who knows what entered his mind, but there was something that emerged from being horrified, enraged, and it gave birth to new meaning. He would take control and save them - from humans and the institution that made child sorcerors die. According to Gege, he became Papa Geto. (Kenjaku is also mum-coded but the antithesis of motherly love, with the womb protrusion domain and actually bearing children.)

This is of course not limited to feminine energy, as parents, both male and female, have protective instincts. But I’m not here to go into that discourse. Just stereotypically, and loosely speaking, Geto is very Yin energy. He is a big Mama Bear. With extreme maternal aggression. We see female counterparts do this in the wild more than males. And yes, of course both male and female are protective. Both geto and gojo were protective in their own unique ways. That’s for another post. Geto would rather die than have anyone come save him. In fact, the scripture behind him in the temple goes somewhere along the lines of “death to the weak”. If he had failed, he deserved to die. His family should live.

Gojo cares for others differently. And yes we know he died whilst defending others too. He is inherently more individualistic due to what he is with his gifts and noble heritage. He is less emotional and more cerebral, the only time we saw him lose his composure was due to Geto.

He allows his students to take risks and would allow them to fight in his stead, like in jjk 0 where Toge and panda were sent to be defeated by Geto. Tough love, as Gojo admits. This is also very Dad-like in the modern sense of the word.

In my subjective experiencing of the world, it’s almost like a husband who is only really emotionally vulnerable with his wife, and is otherwise the successful businessman, dad, and whatever else he is. Geto is much like a mum that he would walk away from her husband (lol, Gojo in this case) in order to protect them in a way she deems is best. Maybe I’m a little nuts, I don’t know. (Actually I am a little eccentric, but that’s by the by).

Now this is totally just satosugu indulgent: I headcanon that Gojo also “protected” / was possessive of Geto by making a deal with Miguel since the latter said he would curse Geto if he died, lol. Especially in light of the latest chapter where Miguel said he was spared by Gojo. (And i reckon Gojo was respectful of Miguel being Geto’s family, so he spared him for that reason too). I mean, Gojo had to kill his best friend, but this was his burden to bear, you know? It’s almost sickeningly intimate to allow someone to end your suffering, and be entrusted with that too. Ugh, ouch, my heart…..

Edit: I’m reminded of that scene where Shoko reflects on loving neither of them, like Gojo, Geto didn’t want anyone to be alone anymore either. Geto said he didn’t feel happy from the bottom of his heart. Gojo felt lonely (although he said it got better at the airport scene). They weren’t alone, but probably felt it… because of the absence of their true/first love? Larue stating in the panels above that Geto wouldn’t wish for them to fight seems like a nod to what Geto believed happened between him and Gojo. Gojo raised allies - be strong, don’t be left behind. Geto a family - get along, don’t fight. Just pointing out what my take is on the parallels I’ve observed.

That ends the brief analysis portion of what I wished to convey about what appears to surround Geto. He may not have been depicted much in the series, but his presence has been felt through the eyes of many. It made me wonder why did Gege do this?

This author deliberately wrote multiple people in the verse to love and follow him (and spare him a death sentence for 10 years) despite not agreeing to his ideals.

Perhaps it isn’t Gege’s focus, understandably, to give us a lot more insight from Geto’s pov, but there is certainly some kind of narrative he is pushing to depict how this man, cruel yet kind, is somehow one of the few he seems to portray in this way more than others within the sorcerer world at the very least. That his life was somehow a tragedy that he might not have really known the love at all? I wonder what Gojo’s last words were to incite such a heartfelt reaction - well done? Welcome home? You did well? I love you? My one and only best friend? Sigh, I guess it’s a secret between them.

There are others who have written metas on Gojo and maternal energy. If I find it I’ll link it! Otherwise, search through my reblogs! So many fantastic writers and thinkers out there!

Thanks for reading if you made it this far!

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spicybunni · 6 months

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Yandere Dark Wizard x Maid!Darling

Little Dark Wizard blurb ! I’ve had this idea for like all of October and had to get it out of my system, enjoy! 🌙

WARNINGS!! ⚠️ : NSFW IMPLICATIONS, YANDERE TENDENCIES, OBSESSIVE, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You swept the floors clean by 8AM this morning, and now it was time to start on dusting this horrid tower again. Even though you dusted a week ago there are somehow a buildup of cobwebs and thick layers of dust on almost everything! It’s almost as if he uses his magic to make the tower more dirty, keeping you busy with work while he is away. He is Faris, the dark Wizard. About a year and a half ago you came to him, as a castle maid looking to give assistance to either a Witch or Wizard in exchange for lessons in magic wielding. He told you off the bat that it would take time and patience since you didn’t have the gift of magic to begin with.

When you first met him, you certainly did not expect him to be so…handsome, to say the least. With the rumors you’ve heard around the kingdom and castle, you thought he would look scarier. But he did have an intense look on his face giving you his full attention. Long black curls piling in the hood of his cloak, his robes gray and colorless, and his eyes were sage green. No wonder the other maids gossiped about him constantly when he visited. But for your sake you pushed your attraction for him to the side, just trying to make a business deal to better your life.

Through the months it was harder and harder to push your feelings down. He was stern but never had an outburst or became violent like the royals you used to serve. The only thing damned about your position is that he never lets you leave the tower without him. Needing to buy food? He’ll escort you through a portal to the nearest Market place. Need new clothes? No need for travel when he special order them for you.

He’s so stingy whenever you ask him about the “business” he takes care of during the day. 4 days out of the week, he leaves the tower from morning until late evening doing heaven knows what. You had gathered a technique in finishing your chores early. Which he absolutely despised. It’s not that he hated you having free time. He just doesn’t want you roaming into certain quarters of the tower. He kept such dangerous artifacts in certain rooms that if you explored, you just might hurt yourself. Which was the last thing he wanted. But usually when you did finish early you kept busy with either cooking dinner or doing some crafty hobbies you liked in your chambers. If he didn’t spot you in the kitchen he would either teleport to your room to knock or just peak to see you if you're there from afar.

Over the past year, unbeknownst to you, Faris has actually depended on you being here at the tower. At first he labeled it as just being reliant on a maid or a housekeeper to keep the place in order. But something sparked within him when you had the courage to speak to him outside the Royal Palace. You were a mistreated maid there and wanted a better life, a magical one. Who was he to refuse a future apprentice? Unfortunately for him now, he see’s you as more than a beloved maid. You were his.

Teaching magic to non magical humans did take time, but it was easy. You start with the basics of elemental magic, then energy magic, and if you asked him, he would teach you dark magic to defend yourself.

But teaching you to become your own Witch meant you would leave eventually…And these feelings of loneliness have swelled over the years before you came into his life. Perhaps he can push it a few months, making more excuses that you weren’t ready, or that his work requires his full concentration. He found that getting in close proximity to you and simply saying “Not now, Y/N.” when you asked questions made you stop for a few days. He found it so endearing that you would blush madly for him and be so shy to be close to him when he did stuff like that.

But you on the other hand we’re ready to take your lessons into your own hands now. You’ve done your part of the bargain. You just won’t ask anymore. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission right? Putting your broom and other cleaning equipment in the kitchen, you head over to the library with many anxious thoughts in your head. ‘Maybe he’ll be impressed when you show him- No, no don’t show him! He’ll find me out sooner if I do that- Ughh’

Finally coming up on the massive door, you bring out the spare key you borrowed from Faris. You only took it because he kept it in the same office drawer of a desk you clean every week. You knew it was for the library because it shared the same symbol of a skull that the library doors adorned on the wood. Obviously he didn't think you were such a curious darling. Plus it’s still midday, you’ll have plenty of time to browse and put things back where they belong.

With a click, the door unlocks. You push the doors open, revealing a massive collection of books with towering shelves holding them. Right when the doors opened a spark flew from the torches at the entrance to light all candles in the library. You gasp in amazement, quickly putting the key into your apron’s pocket. You step in further, glancing at the book spines, reading their titles. Some were just regular story books while others were encyclopedias, dictionaries, How-To’s and much more. There was a particular book that caught your attention. It was a faded purple color that shined in certain lighting. You pull it out reading the title ‘LOVE SPELLS AND POTIONS’. The book obviously stayed untouched for years, the spine wasn’t worn and the pages were crisp. You can tell by the color and feel of the paper that it’s an old book though. You had no need for any spells or potions within this book, but taking a peak is almost harm right?

You opened and flipped to a random page. The potion was for fertility and love making. But before you could even read the details a black swirl of mist appeared in the middle of the library, making the shelves rumble. It opened up like a portal, making you tremble holding the book to your chest like a shield. You panic thinking it’s an entity of some sort coming into the tower but then you see Faris walking through, looking around until he spots you. His face looks both displeased and amused at the same time. He takes languid steps towards you. You gulp, not having expected any of this, to be caught so red handed by your Wizard most of all.

“I did not expect this, my darling maid. You actually had the gall to trespass into my library and get ahead of yourself.” He chuckles, removing his coat as he comes to you.

“And I see the thing you’ve decided to learn from first is?..” He raises his hand with his palm down, turning it up and flicks his wrist back, making an unseeable force take the book hiding within your arms. “W-Wait! Faris I-“ he pays no attention to your cries of embarrassment. As the book floats into his grasp he holds his other hand out in a stop motion, making the invisible force block ho. He marks the page you were at with a finger before looking at the front cover.

You can see his eyes read the title, creasing slightly by his grin as he looks back to you. “Really Y/N? Love Potions?” His magic releases its hold on you. You’re fidgeting with your hands with a face as red as rubies. You were about to speak your truth before you see he’s about to see the page you were on. Your mortified expression fuels him to carry on with his torment. You didn’t really think you were going to be unpunished for sneaking into a forbidden room of his tower?

He looks over the potion ingredients with the…expressive.. illustrations on the page. He chuckles at you begging to stop and trying to grab the book. “Oh dear, a fertility potion huh?” He looks back at you now, making you freeze in your actions.

“Listen Faris, I just thought the book looked pretty! Stop drawing it out like this! You know I didn’t-”

You were pulled to him by his magic, your front against his. A hand rests itself on your lower back. You look up at him, hands on his robes. You’ve never embraced him like this before. It was making you flush so warm against his body.

“If you’d like, my dear Y/N, your first magic lesson can be from this book…”

~~~~

Part 2??

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #darling reader #tw yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere wizard #yandere dark wizard #dark wizard x reader #maid!reader #maid!darling #yandere x maid!darling

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ozzgin · 8 months

Note

Hi! I love your works, especially the baki ones. Is it okay for me to request something, like a continuation from your last pickle fic, where the reader is baki's S/O. What if the cute stage then develops into a "potential mate" type?

I really feel like baki would instantly go full on Hanma on pickle tbh, can I get your take on it/headcannon regarding this?

-🍲 anon

I had been wondering if I should leave it as purely platonic or include some tension, so I can definitely do that! Thank you for the suggestion!

Baki Headcanons: Pickle meets Baki’s significant other (II)

Featuring Baki, his cute partner and a Pickle who’s starting to reconsider their playful friendship.

Pickle may be somewhat primitive compared to modern times, but on the social front at least he is very much aware of the nuances that come with a relationship. He’s had friends and mates and knows the difference between the two. Therefore, he’s not entirely ignorant of the current circumstances: you’re Baki’s mate and more of a playmate to himself.

This at least has been made clear to him, sure. But, and here comes the but, having a mate is not some arbitrary decision to be set in stone. It’s more a matter of competition and what one has to offer. And as much as he enjoys the little games you’ve devised and the overall bonding activities, he really can’t help the little tug that bothers his heart every time he looks at you. What is life about if not following one’s wishes and desires?

Even before he reaches this conclusion there’s plenty of hints that unfortunately go over your innocent obliviousness. The hugs that drag along more than usual. The focused gaze that disregards any other distraction. Pickle’s hair ruffles that linger a moment too long as his hand subconsciously wanders to your cheek instead. Baki has been doing his best to ignore the little flirting attempts to avoid you teasingly calling him jealous. He has nothing to worry about, in any case. Right?

Pickle sees his opportunity and does not hesitate to seize it: what better way to show you that he’s a superior choice than utterly defeating and humiliating your tiny boyfriend? When Baki approaches him with the challenge proposal, the large prehistoric man is nearly dizzy with excitement. After the speedy quarrel that leaves the young boy unconscious, Pickle hastily approaches you and does his best to imitate the strange lip contact he’s often observed you initiating with Baki. Your high pitched reaction of surprise is enough to have Baki awake and instantly back on his feet.

Needles to say that an angered Hanma is a scary opponent. You have to plead for the bloodied outcome to stop before Baki does anything regretful. Seeing your boyfriend’s wild, predatory expression quickly drains the blood from your face and reminds you the kind of family you’ve joined. Pickle doesn’t exactly share your fear. He’s certainly shocked about the sudden twist in strength, but more than anything he’s frustrated with himself for losing the bet that would’ve guaranteed your companionship.

Alas, the Jurassic man does not give up just like that. Perhaps being at the top of the food chain for so long has gotten him rusty, too comfortable with his skills. This was an embarrassing reminder that there’s room for improvement. Maybe he’ll even give it a try to these mysterious techniques the previous fighters displayed. He can take his time. But one thing is to be established and indisputable: you will be his mate sooner or later.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki x reader #baki headcanons #pickle baki #pickle x reader

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just-jordie-things · 9 months

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[part ten] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4.2k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part ten] : “Cursed Tool”

It was fair to say that (y/n) had severely abandoned her training. She still practiced here and there, but it was few and far between, and it certainly wasn’t on her list of priorities. She hadn’t really noticed this.

Her friends, the over-involved spies they were, were completely aware.

Satoru bothered her endlessly about practicing with her cursed technique more, once she seemed to be in a better headspace, anyways. He’d trail after her once classes were done, pester her to go out for a training session, he even playfully suggested a game of teleport tag. (y/n) had been blowing him off for weeks.

Shoko brought it up a few times, casually, unlike the white haired man who’d never known the meaning of the word. (y/n) brushed her off too, but she’d never seemed too bothered to be asked about it. Shoko was easier to distract with a cigarette and a coffee.

Even Suguru, who (y/n) noticed seemed to be around less and less, still found the time to scold her for not keeping up with her training. Just like the others, she let the comments slide.

(y/n) figured for some time now that she’d find the time to practice once things with Megumi settled down. She had too much work to do to properly focus on his cursed energy, and help him grow into it, that the prospect of developing her own was out of the question. Once Megumi understood his growing power and was able to protect himself with it, then she could help herself.

Foolishly, she hadn’t thought about the consequences of this choice, and (y/n) didn’t realize just how quickly her time was running out. That was until Yaga asked her to stay behind in class one Thursday afternoon.

Shoko gave her a wave with the promise of meeting up to study later. ‘Study’ of course meaning a smoke break where they could catch up and talk about anything but classes.

Satoru followed her out without a word, but his eyes hung on (y/n) for a moment too long. She furrowed her brows at him, as though to ask him ‘what?’.

He turns away and follows Shoko into the hall.

(y/n) approaches her teacher’s desk, a kind smile as she asks him what he needed her for.

“Let’s get straight to the point, shall we?” Yaga folds his hand over his desk, and (y/n) nods curtly. “Fact is, it’s been a while since you’ve taken an assignment, and I’ve been trying to select the right one to hand of to you, and now I’ve found one that I think would be perfect for your re-entry into the field”

For a second, (y/n’s) frozen, and she swears that her heart has stopped beating in her chest. Her face is expressionless, and her hands are still, curled around the edge of Yaga’s desk. Once his words really settle into her mind, her grip tightens on the stained wood.

“Sensei, with all due respect I don’t think I’m-”

“You’re perfectly ready,” Yaga tells her before she could finish. “These last few weeks have been hard on you. You’ve gone through more than anyone your age should. But it’s time,” He pauses, carefully choosing his next words, “I know you’ve been working on maintaining your routine, and it’s time to allow your work as a sorcerer to settle back to your roots”

(y/n’s) relaxed, expressionless face was starting to feel itchy. And hot. Her eye twitched as she stared down at her teacher, who seemed to be dead serious, even though her first instinct was to laugh in his face.

“I really don’t think it’s the right time,” She spoke slowly, so as to keep her voice as even as she could. “I still need time to process Yu- and- and I just have so much going on that I-”

“(y/n),” Yaga cut her off again. “While I appreciate you being honest with me, this is already final,”

(y/n) watches closely as he leans back, opening a drawer, and producing a folder. He tossed it onto the desk in front of her, nodding his head for her to take it.

(y/n) stared back at him, unmoving.

“It would be a quick assignment. Just the weekend. And you’d get to see Brazil” He adds that last part with a flashy smile, like she was supposed to be excited about travel.

“I don’t need to see Brazil,” Her tone drops. “I don’t want to see Brazil”

“Flight takes off Saturday morning,” Yaga states bluntly. “You’ll get picked up at six”

(y/n’s) eyes narrow to a glare.

“I’m not going”

“You’re going. It’s a Grade Two. You should be able to tidy that up in, what, a couple hours?” He raised his palm, pretending to think it through. “I let the elders know you’d need longer, since it’s your first time back on the field. The rest of the time I’ve allotted is for you to relax once it’s done”

“Am I supposed to thank you?”

“(y/n)-”

“No, really, is that what you’re looking for? Now that I’m supposedly done grieving over the death of my friend, I should just get back to normal life? Huh? I should be grateful that I get to have a little vacation time in Brazil?”

Her voice was rising with every word until she barely even realized she was leaning over the desk and yelling right in her teacher’s face. However Yaga barely looked fazed. He simply pushed the folder closer to (y/n), staring at her with a hard expression in his eyes.

“I don’t need you to be grateful. But if you still want to pursue a life in this field, then you need to be wise,” He tells her, his eyes never once moving from hers. “You haven’t taken a proper assignment in months, (y/n). I understand there are devastating circumstances, I understand what you’re going through. But I can’t stick my neck out for you forever, (y/n)”

Hesitantly, (y/n) stepped back, her knuckles sore from how tightly she’d been gripping the desk. Her hands relaxed at her sides. Carefully, her eyes moved from the unopened folder, to her teacher.

It dawns on her now that she hadn’t taken a proper assignment in almost eight months now. Maybe even longer if she took a second to think about it.

Had Yaga been covering for her this whole time? Her heart sinks at the thought. All this time she’d blown it off, assuming that Satoru and Suguru were being handed any and every assignment that came up.

Now she realizes she’s been in the wrong this whole time. She’d been avoiding her training, and she hadn’t thought much at all about taking on missions, not when Megumi and Tsumiki still needed her like they do.

But now, looking at it with a fresh set of eyes, she wasn’t sure she could get out of this one.

(y/n) sighs, reaching for the folder with reluctance.

“Saturday at six?” She mutters.

Yaga grins.

“That’s the spirit” He tells her.

Without another word, he stands from his desk and leaves the classroom. (y/n) glares down at the paper folder in her hands, before following him out.

She’s stopped before she can take off towards her dorm.

“An assignment, huh?”

“Satoru, you creep up on me so much, I’m almost used to it”

The white haired sorcerer beams, crossing his arms as he slid in front of her path before she could walk away. Despite her annoyance, (y/n) stays put in front of him.

“I’ll have to find something else to keep you interested in me, huh?” He chuckles.

(y/n) only blinks in response.

“So, Brazil,” Satoru changes the subject. “Sounds like a fun time”

“Do you always eavesdrop on conversations that don’t involve you?” (y/n) muses.

“Well how else will I get involved?” He replies easily. “You didn’t sound all too excited. What was that about?” He tilted his head to the side, but somehow, he was still peeking out over the top of his sunglasses.

“I don’t love picking up and leaving suddenly. Sue me,” (y/n) rolls her eyes.

It wasn’t a total lie, she did like more than a day’s notice for long-distance missions like this one. But the other factors in her distaste were a bit more pressing.

“Did you really listen in on the most boring conversation because of that?” She asks him, trying to brush past the subject. “What, are you jealous that they gave it to me and not you?”

Maybe deflecting could work, she decides.

(y/n) shoves the folder into his chest, and he doesn’t stumble at the harsh action, but she finds it curious that his infinity was down, and she was actually able to smack it against him.

“Well here,” She spits out, “You go if you want it so-”

“I don’t care about some lame-ass Second Grade Curse,” Satoru scoffs, throwing the folder back into her hands instantly. “So which is it? Do you want to retire? Walk out like Nanamin? Like you haven’t spent the last ten years of your life working towards assignments like this?”

(y/n) visibly bristles at the mention of their former underclassman. Satoru notices, and it fuels his own annoyance enough that he asks the question that was really on his mind.

“Or are you just so wrapped up in something else that you’re trying to get out of it?”

(y/n’s) brows are drawn low as she glares up at him now. The playful, meaningless attitude she’d given him before long gone, now replaced with the real thing.

“Kento didn’t just walk out,” She told him, her hands gripping the folder a little tighter than she needed to. “His partner, his friend, died, and he did what he had to in order to keep his head”

“(y/n), I didn’t mean it like-”

“And I’m not walking out,” She cut him off. “Just cause I don’t want to take on some stupid mission-!”

“Then what is it!?”

Satoru is yelling before he can calm himself down long enough not to, but (y/n) was raising her voice too and he knew if he couldn’t get her to listen he’d have to keep her attention somehow.

“What is it that you’re letting hold you back, huh?” He lowers his volume, but the bitterness in his voice is still present. “What could be so much more fucking important than some in-n-out mission that the old you could get done before day’s end, huh? What the hell is it, (y/n)?”

The frown on her lips is twitching, begging to turn into a scowl. What little patience is left inside of (y/n) is fighting for it’s life not to be cruel to the man in front of her.

But she could only keep her composure for so long.

“It’s none of your business, Gojo” She mutters.

The use of his surname was the final straw. Satoru was done with this game of tiptoeing and joking around. He was over the secrets and blatant lies. And most of all, he was over (y/n) pretending like she didn’t matter to him, like he shouldn’t even care about it at all.

“None of my business, huh?” He repeats with a scoff.

For a second, he looked away, shaking his head as he worked to ignore the way his throat felt hot. Just as quickly as he had, he was recollecting himself and hardening his expression to hide any sort of vulnerability.

“Sometimes it feels like you make it my business, (y/l/n),” He spits her last name out with the same poison he’d been hit with from her. “When you can’t take control of your own fucking cursed technique without my help,” He reminds her viciously. “Or you can’t even sleep at night unless I’m there, what about that, huh?”

Her hands are curled around her folder so tight, her knuckles are white, and she’s crinkling the papers of her assignment. She doesn’t care that her reports will look unprofessional now, because it’s the only thing keeping her from smacking Gojo Satoru across his smug, asshole face. If she were a cartoon character, smoke would be coming out of her ears.

“Then don’t,” Her voice was low, but it betrayed her with a slight crack of emotion. “I don’t need the Gojo Satoru protecting me like everyone else, I’m fine on my own. And I’ll handle my shit, on my own”

Gojo’s snarling expression falters, and he blinks as he leans back from her a bit, trying to backtrack in his mind to the moment when he’d pushed her too hard.

From the first second, probably, he thinks to himself. I fucked up instantly.

He sighs, and relaxes his tense muscles before he tries for an apology.

“Look, (y/n)-”

“No, just-”

(y/n) cuts him off, but quickly shakes her head, not knowing the right thing to say to keep him from pressing once and for all. She swallows thickly to clear her burning throat, trying to come to terms with what she was about to say. When her eyes land on his sunglasses again, she hopes they don’t betray her with their wetness.

“Just leave me alone, Satoru,” She tells him, and now his forename sounds evil coming from her, too. “Just fuck off wherever you go when you’re not bothering me. Anyone else will bend over backwards on a whim for whatever the fuck you need, so go bother them. Anyone else. Because I don’t need you,”

It’s harsh. It’s beyond harsh, it’s cruel. Probably one of the cruelest things she’s ever said to anyone, but she knows this is exactly what he needs to hear if she’s going to push him away and keep him away.

He’s still standing there, not a single muscle on his body moving. She can’t see his eyes from behind his shades, but she assumes they must be blank as he stares at her. She wishes he would just teleport away.

Her chest feels hollow. And her throat feels tight.

“I don’t need you to help me with my technique, I don’t need you to help me sleep, and I don’t need you to nitpick every little thing I do every second of the day,”

She’s losing breath, but she knows if she allows herself to collect the oxygen she needs, her chest will heave to steal it, and she’ll lose her false composure. Realizing this, she delivers her final blow.

“I. Don’t. Need. You”

(y/n) blinks strategically to make sure not a single drop of the wetness in her eyes could fall.

Her fingers begin to tremble.

Satoru’s silence lasts for a few seconds longer, as does his eerie stillness, but finally, his expression cracks, and he scoffs quietly.

“Fine,” His voice is quiet, but there’s a finality to it that lets her know she was successful in her heartbreaking scheme. “If that’s what you want, then fine,” He continues, before leaning over to meet her at eye level.

He doesn’t need his Six Eyes to know that she’s on the verge of tears, that whether she meant what she said or not, it was hurting her just as much as she was trying to hurt him. Nonetheless, this was her choice, and if that’s what she wanted, he’d give it to her.

Satoru had known for some time that he would do anything she asked of him. If she couldn’t sleep at night without him, then he’d lay in her bed with her, wide awake from dusk till dawn. If she needed a training partner, a friend to talk to, a book, lunch, money, his soul- Satoru would find a way. Of course, he knew what this implied- this desire of his to provide any little thing she wished- he knew that it meant his heart was no longer his to claim.

Knowing this, knowing he’d do anything she asked and now she was asking him to go away, hurt more than any nasty words she could throw at him. Seeing the gloss of tears in her eyes as he told her he’d follow this command made him feel like his body had been split in two. Every instinct told him to tell her no, tell her I’m staying, whether you need my help or not.

Or what’s worse to admit, I’m staying, because I’m the one who needs you.

There’s a child, deep inside of his subconscious, who’s crying. He’s wailing loud enough for Satoru to hear. He’s deeply lonely, and desperate to be loved, and he’s begging for him not to let his next words come out of his mouth.

Satoru doesn’t listen.

“But I’m done with this stupid game of yours, (y/n),” He tells her, and the low voice he speaks in sounds angrier than any holler, yell, or scream ever could. “So don’t come fucking crying to me about it later”

When she blinks, he can see a tear catch on her eyelash. His heart wilts like a sunflower under the clouds.

“Trust me. I won’t” She tells him with certainty.

A brief moment later and Satoru’s standing straight, and walking away from her. He has nowhere to be, and he’s not walking in any specific direction to go somewhere besides that wherever he’s headed, it’s away from her.

(y/n) stays put in the corridor for a few minutes longer, frozen, clutching her wrinkled folder of an assignment to her chest and staring at an insignificant spot on the floor for a period of time she couldn’t really keep track of.

She’s not sure how long it was since Gojo had left, but when she’s finally sure he’s far enough away, she breaks. ___

“I have something for you,”

Megumi’s eyes light up with a gleam that only a child receiving a gift could display.

“It’s not that exciting,” (y/n) tells him sheepishly, before reaching into the pocket of her jacket. “But it is important, and I need you to promise me that you’re going to hold onto it”

His brows are furrowed with uncertainty, but Megumi nods adamantly.

“Okay. Promise”

(y/n) produces the small token, a thin rope with a small stone on it. Megumi’s confusion only deepens at the odd gift.

“A necklace with a rock?” He asks as she carefully drops it in his hands. He studies it closely, as if there was some secret to why this was a special present that he now promised he would keep.

When he doesn’t find anything unique, he gives her a blank stare. (y/n) chuckles quietly.

“It is” She agrees with his blunt observation, and picks it back up from his hands, and holds it open so that she could slide it over his head. The little stone sits on his chest, and Megumi picks it up again to inspect once more.

“Why is this important?” He asks, narrowing his eyes in case there was a tiny detail he was missing.

“Because I laced it with cursed energy,” (y/n) explains. “My cursed energy,”

The young boy stares up at her, still lost.

“You know how I told you that students studying to become Jujutsu Sorcerers have to go on missions to take care of curses?” She reminds him. He nods. “Well… I’ve been asked to go on one of those missions”

“Oh,” Megumi mumbles, his gaze falling to the floor. “Do they take a long time?”

“Not a long time, no,” (y/n) shakes her head. “But I won’t be here this weekend. I leave on Saturday”

“Oh” Megumi says again, quieter.

“But,” (y/n) continues, craning her neck so that she could meet his gaze, “I will be here as soon as I’m finished, alright?”

He nods in a short, small motion.

“I’ve left your sister with a little extra spending money, so you guys can order pizza, or go to the bookstore, or rent a movie- whatever you want to do,” She tells him. “I hope you can understand”

“I understand,” Megumi says. “Curses are bad, you have to kill them”

“Exorcize,” (y/n) corrects with a small laugh at his choice of words. “But you’re right, I do have to. It’s my duty,” She says. “And someday it can be yours too, if you want”

Megumi nods, his stare falling to his hands, studying them. His bedroom is quiet for a bit as he thinks to himself, and (y/n) gives him the space to process everything she’d just told him. It’s not long before he speaks again.

“So what’s so important about this necklace?”

“You remember my cursed technique?” (y/n) asks.

“... Hexing Eye?” Megumi answers, a bit unsure, but she beams back at him.

“That’s right,” She praises. “Well, the downside of it is that it’s effects only last a day. So if I were to hex you,” She raises her fingers to her forehead as if to use her technique. “It would wear off by this time tomorrow”

“But you hexed the necklace?” Megumi asked, trying to fill in the blanks.

(y/n’s) smiling again, proud that he was able to catch onto jujutsu semantics so quickly, especially with only her minimal efforts as a teacher.

“Sure did,” She says. “Think of it more as… preserved… in the necklace, if that’s easier,” Megumi nods in understanding. “So when the stone is broken, the hex is released,” (y/n) makes a flashy gesture with her hands, mimicking an explosion. “And that will pretty much summon me. I’ll know to come to you, right away”

“Why can’t we just call you?” Megumi asks, that know-it-all tone in his voice that a parent would find annoying, but (y/n) found endearing.

“Of course you can call me,” She chuckles. “But this,” She pointed to the stone that sat against his chest. “This is for emergencies… dangerous emergencies, okay?”

She didn’t want to scare him, but she needed him to know just how important this cursed tool was, and exactly the situation he needed to use it in.

“Okay” Megumi repeats back to her, his azure eyes focused, and sure of what she meant.

“So… so if you find yourself… in a scary situation, or if either one of you are hurt…” (y/n) trails off, her eyes flickering between his to make sure she wasn’t being too grave. “All you have to do is break that little rock,” She pushes the stone against his body again. “And I’ll be there. Do you understand?” He nods back at her. “I’ll be there in a second. So if you promise to use it if you ever find yourself in an emergency, I promise to be there right away. Deal?”

Megumi gives her a small smile as he nods again, holding the stone protectively in his hand.

“Deal,” He agrees. “I won’t take it off”

(y/n) smiles back at him, feeling much more at ease about her weekend trip to Brazil now that she had a Plan B for the Fushiguro kids.

They won’t even need it, she tells herself. But now I know they’ll be safe no matter what.

“Alright kid, it’s very late, and little kids need a good night’s rest” She says, lifting the covers for him to climb under.

“I’m not a little kid” Megumi grumbles, already back to his usual pouty demeanor.

(y/n) chuckles as he slides under the blankets and lets her tuck him in anyways. Yeah, right, she thinks, but doesn’t say anything besides her usual goodnights and goodbyes.

Her walk home was bittersweet. She’d accomplished everything she’d needed to today, all at a great cost. Imbuing that necklace with her cursed energy had taken a toll on her strength, tiring her out for the rest of her day, enough that she was dragging her feet along the sidewalk.

Pushing away Satoru once and for all had taken a similar toll, as well. But it presented itself differently. It weighed on her shoulders, and clawed itself into her chest and settled there in a hollow, energy-draining feeling.

She recognized it as guilt, but there was something else there that had been nagging at her mind since their fight earlier that day. Something that made her feel like crying- even though she had already vented out all her tears before visiting the Fushiguro house.

She pondered on the sour, painful feeling on her late walk, even though giving it any attention made her chest hurt, and her eyes brim with tears.

Oh, it dawned on her once she’d finally reached her empty dorm. She collapsed into bed without having changed into more appropriate clothes to sleep in.

The sheets reeked of warm sugar and pine.

Tonight was the first night since Haibara Yu had died that (y/n) would spend alone in her bed.

It was heartbreak. ___

a/n: i just love writing things that make me cry and i hope it makes u cry too >:’)

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol @malinq-ashida @mor-pheus@bekahtaylorgriggs@pookiea@megumimind@thealchemical@pearlstiare@niallerhere@96jnie @purpleguk @peqch-pie@yukinemaroop@makis-girl@sadtoru @kamikokii @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @googlesheetshoe @vzleria

xoxo ~ jordie </3

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komorim · 1 year

Text

something more

-> naoya x f!reader (kamo!reader)

[ synopsis. ] naoya had a reputation for being misogynistic, and he certainly didn’t believe that he would ever fall in love with the disgusting creatures called women. the only one worthy of his attention was the strongest female sorcerer, a woman who was nearing in skill to gojo satoru himself. yet the attention doesn’t mean he would treat you any better. but he wished he did.

[ content warnings. ] manga spoilers. misogyny. kidnapping. heavy angst. character death. mentions of child abuse. mentions of suicide. mentions of murder. mentions of attempted murder. mentions of torture. mentions of inhumane experiments. mentions of disability. allusions to sex. miscarriage. description of gore. reader is underweight. reader is older than naoya. belated love epiphany. more pain, possibly more than the suna one :)

[ word count. ] 3.7k

[ author’s note. ] wow. this story went from the original 10+ chapter fanfic to a 3 chapter fanfic to a one shot. after so many trial and errors, i finally decided to make this a one shot, even if that means i’ll have to cut some major plot points. the reason being that this story was developed a bit over a year ago, and i’m honestly starting to lose interest in finishing this as a series. well, here it is!

[ previously named: a cracked shell ]

“i’m home,” naoya says as he slides open the door to your shared room. yet he doesn’t find you in there. he’s confused to say the least. even though you had a small fit with him the other day, it wasn’t nothing serious. you would always pretend as if nothing had happened. you were just like that. you didn’t like conflict, so in order to avoid it, you became somewhat of a pushover when it comes to most things.

your boundaries are set very low, and they continue to lower with every violation of them. it was one of the reasons you and naoya could coexist. he wished for an obedient little wife, and although you weren’t obedient per se, your character in its nature was close enough.

you never acted out of line as you were clear of the troublesome headache it would bring you. and naoya was okay with that.

it would be an understatement to say that his expectations for his wife also lowered. the original idea in his mind was that he would marry a docile, mindless woman who would do everything he asked of her without question. and you don’t fit that description. but he’s okay with you.

you, who is a sorcerer strong enough to rival geto and gojo.

it wasn’t a secret that naoya had always admired the strong. and even if it’s a woman, he’ll show some degree of respect to them as long as they’re stronger or on par with himself.

which is why he’s so lenient with you.

he remembers how miserable you looked when he first met you at the kamo estate when he was eight and you were nine.

the only reason he appeared at the kamo estate was that he heard of a secret kamo child that had been recently escorted back to the estate. though he wasn’t the type to come for solely this minor, insignificant purpose. no, he came since he heard the rumors of what you were.

not only had you inherited the kamo technique of blood manipulation, you also had an immense amount of cursed energy within you. though what made you the most special of all was the essence of your cursed energy.

a cursed energy with scent.

and not only did your cursed energy have a scent to it, the scent was odd. it had the ability to put people in a drunken state upon breathing in the fragrance too much. it was truly odd. something like this had never been seen. it was probably why the kamos were so hell-bent on bringing you back to the estate to recognize you as one of their own.

nine year old you was very similar to how you are like now. quiet, appearing to be uninterested in almost everything, and eerie. almost twenty years later of knowing you, he could never pinpoint exactly what it was, but you always seemed off. it was an eerie aspect that made others uncomfortable in your presence. maybe it was a dominating attribute that came with being that strong.

yet what he didn’t understand was why you always looked so miserable. you were so strong that you could destroy a city and possibly more if you wished. but you were never happy. eight year old naoya thought that if he was that gifted, he’d never have a bad day in his life. maybe it’s because you were born a girl that you are unable to be happy. after all, the elders always spoke of how unlucky it is to be a girl.

that was the first time he met you. only being able to get a glance of your face in a open room. the next time he saw you was at the goodwill event. you appeared to be the same as before. you didn’t speak much, you still looked miserable and unbothered, and you still had that eerie feeling about you.

around this time, naoya had been raised by the zenins’ misogynistic ideals for so long that he has also adopted them himself. and even if he knew that your current abilities can rival even the two most powerful jujutsu sorcerers, you were just a woman. you were born with the right, immense power, but the wrong gender. you were bound to one day become someone’s wife one day, confined to the chains of marriage and the duties of a woman.

your talent and power will succumb to nothing. it’ll all be useless.

maybe that’s when he first started hating you. he envied you for having the power he could not. his eyes grew red at the thought that a woman had received the main inherited jujutsu technique of the kamo clan when he himself only inherited a sub technique of the zenin. he feels frustrated that you have all this power and he’ll never be able to see its full potential since you’re a woman that’s destined to be in a house and nowhere else.

maybe that’s why he was desperate to hunt you down during the goodwill event. he was desperate to prove himself better. he couldn’t stand being weak compared to someone who’s power will become useless one day anyways.

but he lost. zenin naoya had lost. it was humiliating really; the way you barely looked at him as you successfully constrained him, proceeding to leave without a care in the world.

he had felt a new kind of sensation that day. a strong urge to see what kind of faces you can make other than that miserable, unbothered expression.

so when he found out from his father later on that you’ve been engaged to him, he found it perfect. he’ll have the rest of eternity to make you say something, feel something more than hopelessness. you could tell that his preference for said feeling would be suffering, but it’s not like he ever succeeded, so you didn’t pay his unwell intentions much thought anyways.

it was at this point when he finally found out why you always looked miserable. after all, the least he could do as your fiancé was get to know you, albeit you didn’t want him to.

when he heard about your life so far, he laughed a bit. you’re so strong and yet you couldn’t prevent any of the tragic events in your life. the elders were right. a woman like you was destined to live out an unlucky life. but maybe yours was a bit too unfair, even by naoya’s opinion.

secret child born to loving parents, you had been raised without the kamos’ knowledge. at the age of nine, shortly before naoya first met you, an escort had appeared at the peaceful apartment you lived at and supposedly murdered your father. your mother fell into hysteria and blamed your existence for the death of her only love. she looked at you with hatred, with the intent to kill her only child. and when she regained some sense of logic, she would hold you closely and cry. he bets that this on and off behavior you endured also dried you up emotionally. and apparently your mother too, for she committed suicide in her room less than a year later.

before doing so, she didn’t forget to smash a rock onto your head. either trying to take you with her or trying to enact some revenge for the love of her life he doesn’t know. but what he does know is that the damage caused absolutely destroyed your right ear.

irreparable loss of hearing.

however unlikely, it was probably the hearing of your tragic childhood that made naoya show you a bit of kindness after the marriage. he showed some form of respect for you, the one who survived such a past and also you, the one stronger than himself.

you had also noticed this. how he wasn’t exactly like how the rumors depicted him. but you paid no mind, as he still treated you as lesser than. it was to be expected. and although the younger you would scowl at the disrespect shown by someone younger than you, the current you couldn’t care less.

you were only a wife to naoya for one reason. to escape being assigned as the next clan leader.

you could never take that position. not when you saw how the kamo clan had crushed your family. not when you saw how noritoshi hated you for receiving the attention of the elders. you knew about the boy. his mother being a mistress made his standing in the clan awkward. and you knew how much he needed to be the next clan leader in order to reunite with his mother.

so you allowed him to take the position of heir. you declined as your uncle, the clan leader, tried several times to make you the heir. you knew why he treated the two of you so differently. one was the only child of his only little sister, the last blood relation to her on this world, and the other was simply a mistress’s son, albeit his own.

but you couldn’t destroy a family the way he destroyed yours. you didn’t want to watch as noritoshi falls into despair like you. so even when your uncle pressured you with the choice or either marriage or heir, you confidently chose to be married off.

and what a choice it was.

from day one of being zenin y/n, you already disliked the atmosphere of the zenin household. but alas, it was the place where you would be living for probably the rest of your life.

and when the year passed by and you still had no sign of child, the zenin naobito had attempted to have you divorced.

least to say naoya was furious when he heard. why? because he finally had the second strongest sorcerer chained to his side. how was he supposed to just willingly give you up? but he and yourself both know what the cause for your lack of child was.

the fact that naoya refused to touch you.

it’s not like you minded. you had no emotions for your husband; you couldn’t care less if he had someone pleasuring him outside. in fact, you’d probably be better off if he did.

but that wasn’t the reason naoya didn’t want to lay a finger on you. suprisingly, he had more than just one single reason.

one of which was that he still didn’t want to be so intimate with such a lowly creature, a woman. but he needed an heir and he knew this well. actually, it would be best to have his heir be birthed by you. the possibility of your child inheriting some of your incredibly unnecessary cursed energy, or better yet, inheriting your unique scent would be splendid.

but the most important reason was that your body most likely couldn’t handle it. not to mention the mental toll that your past and even the duration you were a sorcerer had on you, you had a more concerning issue. you turned sickly after overexerting yourself during the time at jujutsu high. and although he shouldn’t care so much for a mere woman’s life, he knew that you were different, and he couldn’t afford to lose such a valuable asset like yourself.

he’s seen how pregnancy does a woman over, and as much as no one would believe it, he doesn’t want that to happen to you. either for his own selfish reasons, or for the reason he dreads, the reality was that he was contempt with not having an heir in the mean time.

so divorcing you? absolutely out of the question.

if his father used not having any emotional attachment as an excuse to tear you away from him, he would create that emotional attachment. fake or not, he won’t have anyone thinking of making him divorce you.

so he pushed himself. he pushed himself to treat you as a decent human being, and pushed himself to buy gifts for you when he’s out, going out of his comfort zone to try and pleasure you.

he allowed you and gojo to continue writing letters to each other. although he’s still sick to the stomach knowing his wife is conversing with another man, he knows that ever since you had been more in touch with your childhood friend, your mood became better.

and finally, on your second year of being married to naoya, he was finally able to see a genuine smile grace upon your lips.

it was the wish he had when him and you were still engaged and not yet married. the wish that you could display an expression different than that of your normal, unbothered one.

and it was beautiful.

he knew you were a looker since the day he first met you. and maybe that’s a subconscious reason why he always wished you could show some more emotion. but seeing your actual smile was so much different. it’s almost as if he’s been blind all his life and finally saw light.

and as much as he wants to deny it, maybe he did have a growing place in his heart for you.

so why are you now missing when things were just starting to get better? it wasn’t long after when he first shared a kiss with you and the two of you started acting more like a married couple, and now you’re nowhere to be seen?

naoya first reached out to gojo within two hours of you not being home, and when the white haired man responded with he didn’t know where you were either, naoya almost lost his mind.

she’ll be okay, he thinks to himself. but another voice in his head reminds him of how you’re not in a state to fight. weirdly your physical state has deteriorated the past few days, and you turned into a even more sickly condition.

it isn’t until the next day when he confirms with hayashi, your personal servant, that you haven’t returned during the night does he really lose it.

weird too. hayashi was saved by you as a child, and follows you around ever since to repay you. he’d never leave your side, so why is he still in the estate and you’re not?

hayashi responds to the question with how you were invited out by a letter, and he wasn’t able to see the sender.

it was a dead end.

quite a few months pass by before naoya finally hears about you. by this time, naoya has thinned down quite a bit and also looked abnormally pale. probably from the lack of sleep or the lost of appetite. or both.

and what he heard from gojo made sick to the stomach, so much that he wished to throw up even though his stomach was empty.

you were found.

the bad news? you were found bloodied and very much dead. you were found rotting.

and although gojo was wearing sunglasses that covered his eyes, anyone could tell the way this affected him through the crack in his voice as he struggles to continue on. after all, he already lost a best friend, and now he had just lost his childhood friend; he lost the one that he swore to protect since your parents failed to do so.

not much information was exchanged after the initial news was delivered, for it pained gojo too much to describe the horrendous scene in which you were found in. but he did take naoya to the scene shortly after he delivered one last piece of news that was sure to shatter naoya.

you were pregnant.

naoya wasn’t all that surprised. in the last few months in which you were missing, he thought of you a lot. how you looked paler, sicklier than usual. how you were more sensitive than usual.

and because of his guess, he had treated you much better than before. he knew how you used to get suspended from jujutsu high for being overly cruel when some curse user would overstep your boundaries. and although your sharp edges dulled over the years, he was still afraid you’d have even a sliver of thought to abort it. and he couldn’t let that happen.

but you probably didn’t know yourself.

“we’re here,” gojo announces.

he bids naoya well before waiting outside the warehouse. he already saw it once, and he couldn’t bear to see it again.

naoya braces himself before slowly walking inside. the interior of the warehouse seemed very normal. it looked like a warehouse for scientific research. there were lab tables, and giant fluid cases. the only thing out of the ordinary he noticed was how dirty everything was. there were many blood stains, but he convinced himself that it was too rusty and old to be yours.

as he walks further, that was when he saw it. the small hidden door in the far back. the door was unnecessarily heavy, seeming to made out of hard iron.

even if it was his first time being here, even if he can’t see what’s beyond the door, he knows what’s about to appear before his eyes.

and he dreads it.

but he still pushes open the door that has already been forced open once. it was easy, seeing how the lock had been destroyed completely. but what wasn’t easy was the capacity to handle everything that he saw.

cruel tools that his imagination can help show him what their uses were. red colored stains on the floor and counters. pieces of meat each around the size of a finger littered around the damp and suffocating room.

syringes. tubes of medicine. medical equipment. chains and shackles. bandages, both used and new. disposed pieces of surgeon uniforms, all covered in blood and a weirdly colored substance.

it didn’t take a psychic to know what had happened here. it didn’t take an actor to imagine the performance that undergone here.

the performance of torture. the act of experimenting on a living human being.

naoya’s trembling although he doesn’t notice it. he comprehends the emotions inside him bubbling as anger that someone had dared to lay their hands on what was his. but the truth was that this unfamiliar feeling he had was despair. something his pitiful wife was familiar with, but something he had only now acquainted.

despair over the fact that all this equipment was used on you and despair over the fact that when you were in pain and suffering, he couldn’t do anything about it.

he slowly walks over to the small bed in the corner of the room. he noticed the blood stains on the sheets and the shackles on the headboard and footboard. most of all, he noticed he noticed the small shard piece covered in blood. he knew why it was covered in blood although no one told him.

it was probably what you had used to end your life.

he stares at it with a blank face, and he eventually reached out to grab it, grief and frustration causing him to clench the shard so hard he sees red. but it doesn’t hurt.

it’s nothing compared to the atrocities you endured.

you were missing for months. he had been informed that your death report showed that you had only died a few days ago. to imagine that you had to suffer from these cruelties for months; the only thing in his mind was how strong you were.

he turns around to walk back out. to see you again. he deemed that it was worthless to stay here any longer.

as he was leaving the room that housed your pain, he saw it. the thick notebook filled with notes and scribbles of the things done to you.

from cutting away pieces of you to examine your genetic makeup, to attempting to force the day of labor so they could research his child; every word written was horrendous.

the contents journaling the day it was discovered that you were pregnant were drastically different than before.

at first it was just terrifying experiments performed on you to determine why you had an intoxicating scent to your cursed energy, but then when they couldn’t find anything out, they wanted to try to copy the trait completely. through what? the child you were harboring.

as naoya flipped through more and more pages, he saw how they took their research further and further. and as things failed again and again, their methods only became more inhumane.

when he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he threw the notebook behind him harshly, hearing a violent thump shortly after. he met up with gojo outside the warehouse and notices how his eyes were somewhat red.

when he brought naoya to your body, that was when both men couldn’t take it anymore.

your originally sickly features looked even worse. you had grown paler and you looked like you had starved for every day you were missing. all that was left of you was skin and bones. there were bruises on your skin, littering almost everywhere the eye can see. the ones on your wrists and ankles naoya knew were from the shackles confining you, and the others on your body seemed to be wounds still unable to fully heal.

you, who hated becoming dirty, lay there with dried blood and dirt on your body. your skin had turned gray and you felt colder than ice. yet naoya still held your hand, trying to warm it up like he had done so before.

but he knew it was fruitless. you couldn’t possess body warmth anymore, and you had no need for it either.

but as he holds your hand with both of his own, what he doesn’t know—what haunts his mind—is the question of did you wish for him to come to your rescue when you had passed day by day and week by week in that tiny little room.

were you disappointed as days passed and he still hadn’t come?

or did you think he wouldn’t come? did you doubt his love for you and think he wouldn’t care if you were there by his side or not? did you think you were replaceable?

but the fact is that you weren’t. albeit how badly he showed it, he knew he couldn’t lose you.

he smiles bitterly as he pressed his lips to your cold forehead and thinks. maybe the possessiveness he held for you had a different meaning. he realizes that even if he denied to everyone that he didn’t love you, maybe he did.

but it’s too late now. he only knew now. he’s only now understood what it was that he felt when you left. you probably also never knew.

after all, you left without giving him a chance to tell you.

do not copy or repost my works. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

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anisespice · 8 months

Note

tall fem reader?

tall fem reader!!! thanks for the request, anon :)))

hq ver.

pairing: college!tr x tall!fem!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI, suggestive language, reader mentioned in chifuyu’s but not present, mild mild mild cat-call in hanma’s - just crack overall, honestly lol feel free to let me know if i missed anything!

notes: planned to make this a whole x whoever you want type beat, BUT figured just doing a headcanon broken into different heights would be more efficient lol plus MORE CONTENT - gonna make a pt. 2 with some hq men, but for now — t.rev! :))) hope you enjoy <3 !!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow

small — ♡

When it came down to a relationship, MIKEY wasn’t shallow enough to let physical appearances stop him from pursuing someone he wanted—He liked what he liked, fuck what anybody else had to say about it. The blonde never had issue with your drastic height difference, seeing it as more of a perk than anything else. His best friend was tall, so why not his girlfriend? It just meant whenever he walked down the street, he’d look like a total badass with his two attractive beanpoles at his side.

However, a lot of the buzz on campus mostly centered around Mikey’s height rather than yours. It never bothered him, but it certainly got you tight anytime someone tried to uplift you whilst putting him down in the process.

“A shrimp like him wouldn’t know how to handle all that leg of yours, mama. Lemme take you out tonight, show you a good time with someone who’s more on your level, whaddya say?”

Barf.

Mikey would merely give them a dead-stare; unbothered king. You, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to knock them down a size or two.

“First of all, your busted-looking ass could never be on the same level as me. Second of all, where my man lacks in height, he makes up for elsewhere, so he handles me very well, thank you. You’re probably the type to just shove it in without any sort of technique, thinking that’s enough to get a girl to finish. My man won’t bust once until I’ve came up to four times, the fuck can you offer me besides being six-foot? Hm? That’s right, not a damn thing. Remember that next time you talk shit, dirt-neck.”

Read him straight to filth. And God forbid Mikey had his gang with him anytime some scrub tried to spit game, best believe they’d dog the guy until he scurried away in humiliation. It always filled him with great adoration for you wherever you checked someone in his defense, your entire relationship giving off the same energy as that one meme with Kevin Hart’s character being protectively held by the lady. It’d been put in the groupchat a number of times just to tease the delinquent, but he’s unashamed at the fact you could easily pick his ass up. If anything, he was all for it, even requested piggy-back rides from you more often than his right-hand man—Draken’s back appreciates your sacrifice.

Now let someone try and spit game at him.

“Yeah, normally guys feel emasculated when their girlfriend’s taller than them, y’know? I’m surprised you don’t, though. No offense, [_____] just doesn’t seem like a good fit for you. I mean, must be tough to lay in the same bed, or even put her in your lap without feeling smothered or crushed. Wouldn’t it be much better to have someone a little smaller-”

“She could sit on me until my pelvis collapsed, and I would thank her. And, full offense, if I was single, still wouldn’t pick you even if you put a gun to my head. Keep my girl’s name out your mouth, you don’t deserve to breathe the same air let alone be on first name basis. Now, quit wasting my time—Do you have the notes from yesterday’s lecture or not?”

You don’t play about him. He don’t play about you. Period.

And as far as sharing a bed, cuddling or otherwise, Mikey was a sucker for being held like a damn squishmellow. Didn’t matter if you took up most of the leg space, dude would be wrapped around you like a python, so snug and warm you’d be lucky to even escape his grasp for food or the bathroom. Once he’s sleep, he’s SLEEP, and then you become the squishmellow.

“Mikey, I will be right back, turn me loose-”

“Zzzzzz…” out like a light. Drooling and everything, face smushed up against your boobs, just content. You’d think he’d been working the graveyard shift. And God forbid he ended up laying on top of you, sprawled out starfish style…you for sure weren’t going anywhere then.

Even if you expressed this dilemma after he woke up, the blonde merely yawned. “Just pick me up and carry me with you…”

“You’re smoking crack if you think I’m gonna haul your ass with me into the bathroom. I love you and all that, but we ain’t at the stage where I can comfortably use it with you in room.”

He shrugged. “Mm. Guess you don’t have to go that bad. G’night.”

“Mikey.”

“Shh, I’m sleeping…”

A gremlin. But, your gremlin. ♡

—

medium — ♡

CHIFUYU still can’t believe he bagged you, frfr.

There’d be moments where you’d catch him staring, as if he figured you’d disappear the second he took his eyes off you.

It’d get a little creepy sometimes, but it was endearing all the same. He wasn’t the shortest guy, though he wasn’t the tallest either, and standing next to you was a constant reminder of that. Not that he held any resentment toward you for it, he absolutely loved your height. However, there was always some form of insecurity that would resurface anytime someone called attention to it.

And today, his best friend and co-worker, Baji, would not only be the culprit, but an unlikely source of reassurance.

While they were stocking up inventory, the ravenette couldn’t help but notice the stool his friend was using to put a box in a particular high place. Wearing a mischievous grin, Baji pointed. “Oi. You should take that home with you. That way your girl won’t have to strain her neck when she kisses you.” He snorted, thinking he was the funniest man alive.

Normally, something that lame wouldn’t phase him, but guess today he was feeling a little more sensitive. With a grunt, the former blonde coolly spoke, “Maybe you should shut the hell up, and stock the damn shelves.”

“Whoa. What’s up your ass?” Baji furrowed his brows, walking over to lightly kick at the stool’s metal leg, making it jerk. Chifuyu sharply gasped, latching onto an empty shelf to steady himself. He exhaled, relieved, then shot a glare. But, Baji wasn’t perturbed.

Chifuyu sighed. “Nothing. I’m fine...”

“Fine my left nut. You don’t get short like that unless there’s something on your mind,” not the best way to phrase that, but at least he was genuine. Chifuyu rolled his eyes, coming down off the stool to brush past the ravenette.

“Not in the mood, alright?”

Baji was left standing there, dumbfounded.

The entire vibe had been thrown on its head, and he didn’t understand why. Awkwardly, he went back to assorting through the contents within the nearest box, bottom lip stuck out in thought as he briefly glanced at Chifuyu’s back mere feet away. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He knew not to pry, but curiosity always won gold in the end. Baji replayed the conversation in his head, using his impeccable deductive reasoning to draw his own conclusions.

And then suddenly, an epiphany.

Without a hint of warning, the ravenette quickly walked over and slapped his friend in the middle of his back. Chifuyu yelped, nearly dropping the box in his hands before whipping around to fix Baji with a wide, incredulous look. “T-The hell?!”

“So. She dumped ya, huh? [Sigh] Look man, don’t beat yourself up, a lot of guys fumble the bag from time to time. If ya need a shoulder to cry on…don’t use mine, but ‘tora might let you-”

“Hah?? What are you—[_____] didn’t dump me, dumbass!”

Baji blinked. “Oh. My bad, jus’ figured that’s why you’re in your feelings.”

“And you thought the best thing to do was to hit me, then tell me to cry on someone else?” Chifuyu squinted when the arsonist gave a shrug. He sighed again, carefully setting the box down. “It’s not about [______]. Well, technically. The other day we had lunch with a few of her friends. They apparently have been dying to meet me for some time. And things were going great until…”

Chifuyu trailed off, leaving Baji in suspense.

He grunted. “‘till what? Jus’ say it, bet it isn’t even that bad-”

“They were shocked to see her with someone who barely came up to her elbows.”

Silence filled the storage room. Chifuyu continued to keep his eyes trained elsewhere while his counterpart merely stared for what felt like hours, but only seconds. And then…

“Pfft.”

Chifuyu looked up and sneered, blushing furiously as he threw a chew toy from one of the boxes at the fiend. “Hey! Don’t laugh! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is??”

Baji, to his dismay, effortless caught the toy, even squeaking it a couple times just to annoy him more. Taking a moment to collect himself, the ravenette still wore his sharp grin as he spoke through airy giggles. “So? Who cares what they have to say?”

“I do! They’re [_____]’s friends, everyone knows their approval is just as crucial to the relationship as the parents…if not more.”

“Mm. Pretty sure you’re overthinking this.”

Chifuyu gave a sarcastic laugh, “Pretty sure I’m not.”

“Alright. Lemme school ya on how women operate when they get in their little cliques.” Baji dusted off his hands, missing the eye roll the former blonde gave once again. With his pointer held high, he declared, “If majority of the friend group is taken, they’re just being protective. No doubt they’ve been there for every heartbreak, every fight, ‘nd jus’ don’t think anyone’s good enough for [_____]. Jus’ gotta keep your head down, and don’t give ‘em any reason to be weary. Simple.”

With a slow, skeptical nod, Chifuyu pursed his lips at his fellow delinquent. It wasn’t unlikely, so at least he’s correct in that regard. However, the line between facts and feelings began to blur the further Baji continued.

“But, if majority of them are single, then you’re screwed either way —Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“Wow, that’s so helpful. You sure schooled me, Baji-san.”

“‘m serious. You gotta watch out for the single ones in the friend group. They’re all passive aggressive, try to get under your skin, push your buttons. Then, before you know it, they’re in your head, get you so worked up only for them to turn around and play victim, saying you can’t take a joke, and now you’re the fucking bad guy! Classic textbook emotional manipulation—Don’t fall for it. ‘cause they’ve got it down to a science, I’m telling ya.”

Chifuyu’s eyes widen at the sudden intensity that overtook the room, taking a small step back when Baji jabbed his finger at him, as if he were warning him of some conspiracy. “Uh…you good?”

Baji took a moment’s pause. Then, he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, got a little carried away. All’s I’m saying is, don’t sweat. Lotta chick’s pick on the best friend’s new fling, t’s like a war tactic—Poking at our fragile egos ‘nd all that. But, seems like you did fine, otherwise you’d be crying all over ‘tora right now.” Baji shrugged.

Chifuyu blinked, now his turn to be dumbfounded. “Huh.”

He frowned. “‘Huh’? I jus’ gave you some killer, black-pilled insight on cracking their code of conduct, and all I get is a dry-ass ‘huh’? Tsk. I’m charging you next time, goddamn freeloader.”

Chifuyu glared, but softened soon after. After taking his words into consideration, the former blonde couldn’t help but feel lighter. “It’s just... didn’t expect that to actually make me feel better.”

Baji scrunched his nose. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean? Oi, don’t ever doubt my knowledge. It may be selective, but I got it when it counts. Besides, thanks to me you won’t take that stool home after all.”

“I wasn’t planning to take it home in the first place.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, elbows.”

“Hey!”

—

large — ♡

“Hey, baby, those legs go all the way up?”

It was moments like this where you detested not being able to blend in with the average crowd. Attention always seemed to gravitate toward you no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, like being covered in honey while trying to walk in front of a herd of bears. And it didn’t help that you were currently wearing heels tonight, accentuating your legs even more in the little, black cocktail dress you sported. You were headed to a party a mutual friend of yours was throwing, and you wanted to surprise your man by wearing the new Jimmy Choos he bought you, knowing how much he loved how your legs with the extra height on them—Evidently, so did the prowling degenerate on the streets.

You had elected to ignore them. HANMA seemed to have other plans as he came to a complete stop in his tracks, slowly turning around to walk up on the moron who had the nerve to open his mouth. Low, golden eyes gazed down at the waste of space, face calm but a murderous aura oozed off him like pheromone, suffocating the slimy bastard into submission as he attempted to shrink away. But, he wasn’t about to let him get away so easily.

A wide, eerie grin spread across his face. “Could’ve sworn I just heard you cat-call my girl right in front of me. But, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. Right?”

The guy nervously looked back for reinforcements but his buddies were already long gone. Hanma’s grin immediately dissolved from his face, kissing his teeth before grabbing the guy by the front of his collar and twisting. “Fuckin’ hate repeating myself.”

Hanma wound his arm back, dead set on knocking the guy into an early grave until you intervened at the last second. By grabbing onto the balled up fist, you brought it to your lips to place a tender kiss on the inked skin. You felt his muscles relax, but he still held the offender by his shirt, only slightly playing attention to you cooing in his ear.

“Baby, you promised no fighting tonight, remember?”

“I know, doll, but this fucker,” he shook the guy around in his tight grasp, unhinged grin making its appearance once more at the sound of him blubbering, “deserves to have his shit rocked for even looking at you. I’m just gonna teach ‘em a little lesson about manners, that’s all. I’ll be quick.”

You scoffed, “You and I both know you don’t do quick.”

Hanma snickered. “First time for everything, right?”

“Shuji.”

Tugging on his arm, you were able to redirect all of his focus onto you, sinister eyes melting into sweet caramel as his pupils dilated the second they locked on yours. It always did something to him whenever you came up to eye-level. Sure, you were already pretty tall but the heels nearly had you towering him. It gave him a weird sensation, one that made him want to drop everything and worship you like the deity you were. Especially in situations like this.

Hanma felt like the smaller one for once. It drove him insane.

You fixed him a stern look. “Drop him.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he discarded the guy onto the pavement like an old can, wild eyes eagerly watching you and waiting for your next request. Taking his free hand into yours, interlacing your fingers, you led the rest of the way by pulling him from the nobody now cowering near a bush, no doubt rethinking his life choices while you kept onward to your destination. You didn’t get all spruced up to not be seen tonight, and you’ll be damned if any more time got wasted on some loser he’d put in a coma after one hit. After a short moment of silence, you expected Hanma to be mad at you for not letting him knock someone’s teeth loose. But when you glanced back at him, you should’ve known you’d be greeted with absolute smugness as you shook your head in mirth.

You elected to ignore the obvious tent in his pants…but he’d surely plan for you to do otherwise later on.

#🍁allspice #🍁wasabi #CALLING ALL THEE STALLIONS 🗣️#*posts and runs*#tokyorev #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev headcanons #tr x reader #manjiro sano #matsuno chifuyu #hanma shuji #mikey x reader #chifuyu x reader #hanma x reader

203 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 11 months

Note

salut j'espère que vous allez bien j'adore vos histoires de lecteur shinobu x et je voulais vous demander si vous pouviez faire une histoire de lecteur shinobu x fem où kanae n'est pas mort et shinobu a son vrai caractère et que pendant l'histoire, shinobu et le lecteur sa rivale pour voir qui est le meilleur tueur de démons ou juste le meilleur dans l'ensemble, qu'ils se taquinent constamment mais que shinobu a toujours une longueur d'avance sur le lecteur et que d'une manière ou d'une autre ils finissent en couple à la fin (merci donc beaucoup si vous acceptez ma demande et sachez que vous êtes mon écrivain shinobu préféré <3)

You’re My (Sparring) Partner

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: I don’t know any French so I hope Google Translate didn’t let us down too bad. Quick plot introduction: Kanae lived, Shinobu’s her good ol’ grouchy self, and she and reader are always competing to see who is better. Some bumps in the path before they finally end up together because Shinobu is stubborn. Thank you for the request. Espérons que vous apprécierez! Word Count: 4,340

“I killed two demons last night.” (Y/n) shared with a bit of pride over breakfast that morning, subtlety looking over the rim of her cup at Shinobu as she drank, before putting the cup back down with a quiet click. “I made very clean cuts too, that’s what you said, right? Kanae-sama?”

A quiet laugh left Kanae’s lips before she nodded, “Yes, you certainly are improving. I’m very proud.”

Shinobu rolled her eyes, her teeth lightly grinding together before she added, “Well my record in one night is four. Two isn’t that impressive.”

“Oh yeah, well—“

“Shinobu, (Y/n), please no bickering at the table. It’s a little early to be playing this game, don’t you think?” Kanae sighed.

“It’s not a game, Neesan.” Shinobu refuted, matching (Y/n)’s glare.

This rivalry had been going on for years. Ever since Shinobu finally accepted that she wasn’t fit for Flower Breathing and decided to cultivate her own breathing style and (Y/n) had wormed her way in to train under Kanae as a Tsuguko, the spot that should have been Shinobu’s by all accounts. It had left the girl bitter and looking for just about any excuse to show (Y/n) how much better she was than her. Even now as a Hashira herself, she still hadn’t been able to quite let go of that initial disappointment and start a new chapter.

Of course, (Y/n) didn’t take Shinobu’s challenges sitting down. She had earned her spot within the Butterfly Estate, but the only one who remained unconvinced was the one person she wanted to impress almost more than the Flower Hashira herself.

Ever since (Y/n) had met Shinobu, she hadn’t thought of her as anything short of brilliant. She took every curve ball life had thrown her way and found a way to hit a home run every time. Not able to decapitate demons, she made a special poison that could kill them anyway. Not suited for the more mainstream breathing techniques, she created her own. Not to mention her speed and mastery over Total Concentration Breathing Constant was nothing to sneeze at either.

To be acknowledged and accepted by Shinobu was all she really wanted and she was willing to do anything to prove her worth. She would compete with Shinobu until she earned her respect.

“Yes, it’s a very serious matter, Master.” (Y/n) agreed, smirking at Shinobu’s scowl.

“Well then take it outside. You are making poor Kanao nervous and I’m sure the other girls don’t appreciate the hostility brewing between you two either.” Kanae said, motioning to the group of girls around the table who did indeed just wanted to eat their breakfast in peace.

“Fine.” Shinobu’s hands slapped against the table as she got up. “I could go for a spar, how about you? Or are you still too sleepy from being up past your bedtime?”

“I recall you waiting up to greet me last night. So I’m sure we have the same advantage.”

“As if I was waiting for you. I had questions for my sister about our medicinal ingredient supply shipments.”

They bickered and taunted each other, even nudging and shoving each other as they made their way out the door. Kanae gave another tired sigh.

“Why can’t those two just get along?”

***

Shinobu flung a wooden sword at (Y/n) who was luckily paying enough attention to catch it before it smacked her in the face and quick enough to immediately retaliate.

“Readysetgo!” Thwack!

It was a dirty tactic to begin a spar without allowing enough time to at least get in a proper starting stance, but Shinobu had anticipated the swipe and blocked it easily.

“Can’t even catch me off guard properly.” Shinobu taunted.

“Who said I trying to?” (Y/n) asked with faux innocence, blocking Shinobu’s counter strike, “I gave you fair warning. Did you feel like I was trying to catch you off guard? In that case, maybe I did catch you a bit off guard after all. My apologies.”

Shinobu sneered, then jumped back. With the weight behind Shinobu’s block gone, (Y/n) was suddenly pushing back against nothing but air. She stumbled forward as Shinobu advanced, turning sharply behind her, wooden sword already swinging towards its intended target.

(Y/n) had been burned by that little maneuver once before and she wasn’t going to give Shinobu the satisfaction of a second. She continued to fall forward, kicking her legs up into the air when her hands came in contact with the ground. She could feel the displacement of air roll over her back, Shinobu had followed through with her strike and missed!

With all the force (Y/n) could muster, she torpedoed on her palms, attempting to catch Shinobu’s face with her foot, but Shinobu quickly cocked her head to the side and dropped her sword to the ground so she could brace her hands at (Y/n)’s ankle and knee. With a smirk, she twisted (Y/n)’s leg, and kicked out (Y/n)’s arms from under her, forcing her to the ground completely.

Before (Y/n) could attempt to scramble to her feet, Shinobu planted her foot firmly to the center of her back.

“That was an entertaining little display.” Shinobu cooed. “Where did you pick that up from? Weird boar boy?”

“Just get off of me already.” (Y/n) groused, she attempted to hit Shinobu’s ankle, but was not quite flexible enough to do more than brush against the offending foot.

“I didn’t hear you say you concede.” Shinobu knelt down, one knee in the dirt by (Y/n)’s side, foot still on the disgruntled Tsuguko’s back. She cupped a hand around her ear and got in real close, “Say it nice and loud so I can hear you, okay?”

So humiliating! (Y/n) stormed through the mansion after her devastating defeat to lick her wounds in peace. Shinobu always seemed to be one step ahead of her! Of course she was a Hashira, more skilled and practiced than (Y/n) was, but as a Tsuguko to the Flower Hashira, she should be able to last more than five minutes with Shinobu in a spar!

“Hey, everything okay in there?” Kanae had knocked on the door, “I see Shinobu is gloating again.”

(Y/n) opened the door to let Kanae in. Then she flooped back down on her bed and sighed.

“Master, please don’t take this the wrong way, but can’t you train me any harder? Or at least teach me all of your sister’s weaknesses?”

Kanae giggled, taking a seat on the edge of (Y/n)��s bed, “I don’t think that would be very fair. She would be angry with me for weeks, maybe longer. She can sure hold a grudge. As for training, I can only teach you so much… especially now that I have these Mount Natagumo spider slayers that are in need of a rigorous medication program in order to return to normal. I just don’t have the time to train you any more strenuously than I already do.”

“Oh…” though (Y/n) was already laying flat against the bed, she somehow seemed to sink further with her mounting disappointment.

“But there is something we could possibly do while Shinobu and I work on healing the spider slayers.”

(Y/n) perked up a bit, “What?”

“Mitsuri, the new Love Hashira. We got to become aquatinted at the last meeting. She’s a very sweet girl. It would probably do you both some good to train together. It would give Mitsuri a jumpstart on teaching experience and you would get tutelage from another Hashira. Seems like a win-win, doesn’t it?”

“Can you really set that up, Kanae-sama?” (Y/n) was sitting up now, much more excited.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll write her a letter an ask her if she’s busy. She can stay with us for a couple of days and over see your training until the spider slayers are more obviously on the mend.”

“Thank you, Kanae-sama!”

Things might just start looking up! She’d show Shinobu just how strong she could become!

***

Mitsuri was very sweet, almost too sweet. If (Y/n) wasn’t such a well-disciplined Tsuguko, they wouldn’t have gotten anything done. But for as green of a Hashira as Mitsuri was, she was incredibly strong! Maybe even more so than Kanae. Her actual teaching could use work, but (Y/n) felt like she was learning a lot and it was only the first day of three that Mitsuri would be available. She was going to really give Shinobu a run for her money the next time they decided to cross swords. Speaking of,

“Kanroji-san, what are you doing here?” Shinobu had happened by an open door and heard (Y/n) laughing, looking up from the stack of patient files she had in her arms, she had not expected to find her sparring with Mitsuri of all people.

“Oh, hi Shinobu!” Mitsuri loosened her hold on (Y/n) to wave at Shinobu, “Kanae asked me to help pick up on (Y/n)’s training while you guys are working hard with all of your new patients. I’d say things are going pretty well so far!”

“Surprise attack!” (Y/n) tried to pull Mitsuri to the ground. Mitsuri bent forward a little bit, but mostly stood her ground.

“Hey!” Mitsuri giggled, quickly switching the hold to put (Y/n) on the ropes instead, tickling (Y/n)’s sides to make her laugh and beg for mercy.

Shinobu wasn’t sure what it was, but she was not a fan of this new development. (Y/n) never laughed with her like that when they sparred… and why would she! Shinobu didn’t give a damn beyond adding another win to the score board. But they did look like they were having fun… getting along so quickly after only just meeting too… ARGH!

“Try not to go too hard on (Y/n), Kanroji-san. She’s fragile.”

(Y/n) gave Shinobu an annoyed look, “I am not. Kanroji-san can be as rough with me as she needs to be if I’m ever going to be a Hashira one day too.”

“That’ll be the day, won’t it?” Shinobu grumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll make a great Hashira one day (Y/n)! It would be so nice to get to see you more often.” Mitsuri beamed.

“That would be great!”

“That would be great.” Shinobu mocked under her breath as she walked away, the sound of the other girls laughter grating against her ears.

When she re-entered the infirmary and slammed the papers down on the table, Kanae looked up and observed her sister.

“What has you all broody?”

“I’m not broody.”

“If you say so…”

Kanae refocused her attention to the wiggly spider slayer in her arms. It was hard getting them to swallow their medication without giving them her full attention.

“Why didn’t you ask me to help (Y/n) with her training?” Shinobu suddenly spoke up after a few minutes.

“Hm? I figured you would rather do literally anything else. Besides, you’re helping me take care of all these new patients… Did you want to help (Y/n)?”

“No.” Shinobu answered hurriedly. “I just don’t think she and Mitsuri are taking the training seriously is all.”

Kanae looked at Shinobu from the corner of her eye and took note of her disgruntled expression. Such a cute, pouty frown. Kanae moved in to the next patient, a smile growing across her face as a sense of clarity came over her. She wondered just how long her stubborn little sister could hold out before her jealousy overtakes her pride.

Apparently the very same day.

“Kanroji-san, her stance is all wrong, see?” Shinobu had butted in between the two of them after Kanae had sent her off to eat lunch, but of course she could not simply walk past Mitsuri and (Y/n) when she had noticed (Y/n) stance was so blatantly off-balance.

“Oh! I guess you’re right Shinobu.” Mitsuri agreed.

“Stand with your feet further apart.” Shinobu mumbled, kicking (Y/n)’s foot further out, then twisting (Y/n)’s waist and adjusting the way she held her arms up and her grip around the practice sword.

Honestly, (Y/n)‘s stance was perfectly acceptable without Shinobu’s knit picking, but Shinobu had to find some excuse to put space between (Y/n) and Mitsuri. Why that was? She didn’t dwell on an answer.

“There, you feel that pull?” Shinobu asked and (Y/n) blinked back to life, having had gone somewhere else as Shinobu had gently pushed her body into place.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I feel it.”

“Good.”

Shinobu looked for every opportunity she could to step in. Only stopping when Kanae came looking for her and scolded her for letting Aoi’s lunch for her grow cold. She did end up eating with (Y/n) and Mitsuri though, which was good because… well, just because!

She squeezed between them at the table, getting gradually more annoyed as they talked over her head. She did manage to find one way to get (Y/n) to remember she was sitting right beside her.

“You have rice on your face.”

She reached out to brush her thumb over (Y/n)’s chin, coming away with a couple grains of rice.

(Y/n) blinked and subconsciously lifted her hand to her chin where her skin still tingled from Shinobu’s brief touch, “Oh… thanks.”

“You two are so cute!” Mitsuri sighed dreamily, “How long have you guys been together?”

Both (Y/n) and Shinobu’s heads snapped towards Mitsuri.

“We are not together!” They shouted in unison, startling Mitsuri.

“Ehh, really? I could have sworn… Just they way you two acted around each other today, I thought you might be a couple. I’m sorry if I made it awkward.”

“I’d rather cut off my own hands.” Shinobu scoffed, then she was startled by a heavy thump beside her as (Y/n)’s fists hit the table.

“Do you really have to go that far?” (Y/n) hissed, shooting up to her feet, “I’m so sorry the idea of being with me sounds so awful to you that you’d rather mutilate yourself. If you really hate me that much, then why don’t you leave me the fuck alone!”

“Well, you don’t exactly make it easy, do you?” Shinobu snapped back before she could think better of it, as was the risk being as hotheaded as she tended to be. She regretted it very soon after.

“All I ever wanted was for you to acknowledge me, to praise me just once instead of shooting me down. I thought competing with you was the only way to make you see me, but it only seemed to make things worse between us.”

She quickly rubbed beneath her eyes to catch any stupid tears that slipped over her resolve.

“Well, I know now that it will never happen so I’ll stay out of your way as long as you stay out of mine. And that means quit budging in on my training with Mitsuri!”

(Y/n) took Mitsuri by the arm and Mitsuri gave Shinobu an apologetic look, taking the rest of her plate with her as (Y/n) dragged her off.

“That probably couldn’t have gone worse if you tried.”

Shinobu snapped her attention to the other set of doors that lead outside. They slid open to reveal Kanae, who simply waltzed in as if she hadn’t been eavesdropping pretty much the whole time.

“What does it matter?” Shinobu spoke sharply, “I’ll finally have some peace around here.”

“You could have had a perfectly peaceful three days while Mitsuri was keeping her busy, but you couldn’t even last one without her.”

“Oh great, you thought we liked each other too, didn’t you?”

“If you would stop getting in your own way for a minute, you’d know it’s true. You two have always been trying to prove yourself to each other in some way, just not always the best way. Like it or not, you are each other’s drive to do better.”

Shinobu opened her mouth to argue, but Kanae have gave her a warning look before continuing on,

“I hope you two will realize your being silly and work this out before too long. If anyone here really needs peace from your overstayed rivalry, it’s me,” she teasingly ruffled Shinobu’s hair, “For now, I need your help back in the infirmary.”

With an annoyed grunt, Shinobu followed Kanae back to the infirmary. All the while she ranted within her mind. Everyone in this mansion was delusional. The only feelings she had for (Y/n) were ones of annoyance. But when she passed by the open door near the infirmary again and saw (Y/n) and Mitsuri cuddled up together in the grass, her heart betrayed her mind by pounding against her chest. Almost as if to burst right between her ribs and flop in the grass until it finally reached its destination. If Shinobu wouldn’t go to (Y/n), it would reach her on its own.

“Keep walking, Shinobu~” Kanae lightly warned, “If you want your peace, you must leave them be.”

Shinobu grit her teeth and continued off to the infirmary despite her heart’s protests. This is what she wanted, her heart would just have to deal with it.

***

The healing of the spider slayers was going much slower than anticipated. To Shinobu’s very much internal dismay, Kanae had asked Mitsuri if she could stay just a few days more, maybe a whole other week. For a moment, Shinobu thought things would finally go back to normal because Mitsuri simply couldn’t get anymore time away, but then Kanae suggested she take (Y/n) with her to keep training her until the spider slayers were closer to being cured.

To Shinobu’s dismay, both Mitsuri and (Y/n) found the idea favorable and the left together sometime that afternoon when Shinobu was busy making more stupid spider medicine.

“You seem to be grinding those herbs extra hard,” Kanae had noted, “I’m sorry, had I known you wanted to see them off, I would have come to get you, but you wouldn’t want to miss out on any peace and quiet, wouldn’t you?”

Damn her, Shinobu thought. It didn’t matter if she got to see (Y/n) off or not. She’d be back before she knew it, and in a way she was right, but not in the way she wanted to be.

Only two nights after (Y/n) had left with Mitsuri, she was being carried back in by the frantic Hashira that had taken her, bloody and unresponsive.

“I’m so sorry, Kanae!” Mitsuri cried, “I got distracted during the mission and didn’t notice right away that (Y/n) had been lured into an ambush pursuing a fleeing demon. She fought them off as long as she could before I could get to her, but… I feel awful! I didn’t know what to do, will she be okay?”

“Sit, Mitsuri,” Kanae soothed, “you got her here as fast as you could, that’s what matters. Let me take it from here—“

Shinobu pushed passed Kanae to (Y/n)’s cot, “This isn’t the time for talk, we need to get to work, now!” She demanded angrily.

“Shinobu,” Kanae warned, “if you want to help, you have to calm down. You won’t do her any good if you let your brashness cut corners.”

Shinobu continued to peer down at (Y/n)’s battered body and try as she might to quiet her boiling rage to a simmer, she could not. She was furious. Furious at the demons, even Kanae and Mitsuri to a lesser extent, but most of all she felt angry with herself. If she wasn’t so attached to her pride and stubbornness, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe her last words to (Y/n) wouldn’t have been so harsh. What if she died before Shinobu could apologize?

“Shinobu, leave.” Kanae made the difficult call upon seeing her sister’s wide-eyed distress, but Shinobu shook her head, refusing to let go of (Y/n)’s hand.

Kanae exhaled sharply, there was no time for this. She wasn’t going to lose her Tsuguko because of her sister’s guilty hovering.

“Shinobu,” the harsh tone made Shinobu flinch, “out. I promise to let you back in once I’ve administered proper care. Mitsuri, take her out with you please.”

Shinobu numbly allowed Mitsuri to lead her away, keeping her eyes on (Y/n) until a Kakushi closed the door behind them. Unwilling to stray any further, Shinobu slid to the ground opposite the infirmary, and waited. Straining her hearing for any hint of what was going on beyond the door.

“You care about her a lot,” Mitsuri spoke up softly after a few long minutes of silence, “why haven’t you told her?”

If that wasn’t the million dollar question… Shinobu kept silent.

“Well, don’t worry. Kanae is going to get her all fixed up and then you can tell her all the things you wanted to say, okay?”

What did Mitsuri know? Shinobu thought bitterly. Shinobu saw that gash on her forehead, that deep wound in her belly, no one could say with one hundred percent certainty that (Y/n) would recover from this.

“You should practice what you want to say.” Mitsuri said, hoping to distract Shinobu from her dark thoughts, “I’ll talk through it with you, if you want. I’m rooting for you guys.”

Part of Shinobu wanted to tell Mitsuri to mind her own business, but she really did need the help if she was going to go through with this properly. So she took a deep breath, and took a step in the right direction.

When Kanae came out of the infirmary hours later, Shinobu and Mitsuri rocketed up from the floor and before they could bombard Kanae with questions, she held up her hands and said,

“She’s going to be okay. You can go see for yourselves.”

And when Shinobu rushed to (Y/n)’s side, she definitely did look better already. Blood washed away, wounds expertly stitched, clean bandages and clothes. Shinobu hunkered down in the chair by her bedside, scooting it as close to the bed as she could before taking (Y/n)’s hand and holding between her own.

Kanae smiled and shook her head. It was a very rude awakening, but at the very least Shinobu was heading in the right direction now. She went to rest knowing (Y/n) would be well looked after.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, the harsh light burned her eyes so she quickly shut them as soon as she opened them. Her body felt heavy and stiff. She couldn’t even wiggle her fingers. Well, none on her left hand anyway. She couldn’t remember the demons doing anything that would warrant a cast over her hand, but there was too much going on to process every injury fully, she imagined. It was weird how warm and sweaty the cast had made her hand though. It was a little uncomfortable.

(Y/n) tried to flip to her side instead of laying flat on her back, but found she was too weak to do it and groaned quietly. The ‘cast’ around her hand constricted in a light squeeze and a soft voice hushed her. Kanae, she assumed. Kanae must be with her, holding her hand. That made sense. Oh, her poor Master. It must have been hard to see her like that.

She tried to open her eyes again, blinking several times before she could even hold a squint. Though her vision was still a bit blurry, it was clearly not Kanae by her bedside. No, it was… was it really Shinobu?

“(Y/n), you’re awake.” Shinobu sounded so relieved that (Y/n) wasn’t so sure she had actually woken up.

“You’re holding my hand.” She blurted. No filter with her head injury apparently.

“Do you want me to stop?” Shinobu asked awkwardly, no bite whatsoever, nor true embarrassment at getting caught. She just seemed… shy, maybe a little uncertain.

“No… it’s fine.” Though she would have liked to air out her hand a little, she didn’t want to risk Shinobu getting offended and breaking whatever spell had come over her.

“I, I have a lot I need to say to you. Will you hear me out?”

Though (Y/n) was nervous, she nodded, managing to free her fingers to wrap them over Shinobu’s hand that cradled her own beneath the other. Shinobu took in a shaky breath, than began as she and Mitsuri had practiced.

***

One Month Later

“You aren’t back to full strength yet, don’t be so discouraged.” Shinobu spoke softly to (Y/n) as she helped her up from the cushy training room floor.

“But still,” (Y/n) pouted, hugging Shinobu and looking for further comfort once she was on her feet again, “I wanna beat you just once, is that so much to ask for?”

“Put those puppy eyes away. We both know you wouldn’t be satisfied if I just let you win.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back.

“No, it would still be satisfying. The only real reason you won’t let me win is because you’re too proud of your flawless record of beating me to the ground.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“But it’s truuue.” (Y/n) nuzzled her nose into Shinobu’s neck, making her laugh, “kiss me and make me feel better?”

“I guess I can give you that much.”

Shinobu coaxed (Y/n)’s face out of her neck with her hands on either side of her face and brought her in for kiss. She had only meant for it to be a short one, but (Y/n) had made it difficult to want to pull away, not that Shinobu really minded all that much. Not until she found herself suddenly pinned to the ground at least.

“I win!” (Y/n) grinned.

“No you don’t,” Shinobu frowned, “this wasn’t a match.”

“I didn’t actually say I forfeited, remember? This match is still on, baby!”

“Then my position still stands, you haven’t won anything yet,” Shinobu struggled against (Y/n)’s hold until she was nearly red in the face, but still she didn’t budge, “don’t you know cheaters never prosper?”

“All is fair in love and war, my dearest Shinobu.” (Y/n) giggled. “Are you gonna forfeit yet?”

Shinobu snuck her hands up (Y/n)’s back, making her shiver, she chuckled darkly, the same competitive glint in her eyes as always as she pulled the her girlfriend down to her lips.

“You wish.”

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #shinobu x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #requests #tesseok

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weaselandfriends · 5 months

Text

Web Fiction, Recently Read

Hello! I'm still early into writing the Pokémon story I discussed in a previous post. I've been writing and rewriting certain parts to better grasp some of the characters, so while I do have some completed chapters, I still consider the story in the planning phase. At the same time, I've recently read a few webfics, and thought I'd share some thoughts here.

1. Floornight by Nostalgebraist

Floornight is short but dense, and in terms of its plot, themes, and focus shares many similarities with Almost Nowhere, a later work by the same author that I read and discussed in a previous post.

This work is the Problem Sleuth to Almost Nowhere's Homestuck. At least, reading the two works back-to-back, that was the impression I struggled to shake. I would often encounter an idea in Floornight that I remembered being expanded on in much more detail in Almost Nowhere, and as such it became difficult for me to appreciate Floornight in its own right.

It's a comparison that reminds me of a quote from Roberto Bolaño's 2666:

Without turning, the pharmacist answered that he liked books like The Metamorphosis, Bartleby, A Simple Heart, A Christmas Carol. And then he said that he was reading Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's. Leaving aside the fact that A Simple Heart and A Christmas Carol were stories, not books, there was something revelatory about the taste of this bookish young pharmacist, who ... clearly and inarguably preferred minor works to major ones. He chose The Metamorphosis over The Trial, he chose Bartleby over Moby Dick, he chose A Simple Heart over Bouvard and Pecouchet, and A Christmas Carol over A Tale of Two Cities or The Pickwick Papers. What a sad paradox, thought Amalfitano. Now even bookish pharmacists are afraid to take on the great, imperfect, torrential works, books that blaze a path into the unknown. They choose the perfect exercises of the great masters. Or what amounts to the same thing: they want to watch the great masters spar, but they have no interest in real combat, when the great masters struggle against that something, that something that terrifies us all, that something that cows us and spurs us on, amid blood and mortal wounds and stench.

An unfair comparison? Certainly. Especially since longer works are not always commensurately ambitious, but instead simply bloated.

Almost Nowhere is ambitious, however, and pushes ideas touched on in Floornight to their limits, which makes reading Floornight afterward a less impressive experience than it otherwise might be. (Nostalgebraist's other work, The Northern Caves, is fundamentally dissimilar from both and thus not victim to the same comparisons.)

That's not to say I disliked Floornight. I was especially fond of the character Hermes Cept, who might be my favorite character in Nostalgebraist's canon. I love characters to whom the reader is introduced from the perspective of another character, giving the reader a certain first impression that is completely decimated when the character is given their own perspective later on. (A lot of Modern Cannibals hinges on this technique.) In Cept's case, what first appears to be an egotistical and incompetent celebrity scientist turns out to have significantly more depth and nuance than the first impression provides. Love it!

Nostalgebraist also shows off some serious writing chops during a certain battle scene near the story's climax. Another reader's longform review of Almost Nowhere comments that the story lets all its major events occur off screen, only to be known to the reader via the reactions of the characters, and to an extent Floornight is similar: Despite a Neon Genesis Evangelion-esque premise of soldiers fighting aliens, there are essentially zero scenes where soldiers fight aliens on screen. The climax changes that, though, and really makes me wonder why Nostalgebraist is so content to let things happen off screen, since he's so good at writing action when it happens.

I've now read all three of Nost's major published works, and there isn't a more exciting web fiction author today, at least that I know of. Can't wait to see where he goes next.

2. Worth the Candle by Alexander Wales

Floornight is a lean 70,000 words. Worth the Candle, an isekai LitRPG, is 1.6 million words.

I started reading this one years ago, but only made it to the second arc before giving up under the sheer immensity of it. The start was slow, and while it was improving steadily, I couldn't see myself wading through something of its size. Compared to Nostalgebraist, Wales' prose is more "serviceable" than exciting, so the value in reading is almost entirely from the plot, characters, and themes rather than the actual line-by-line reading experience. After finishing my own isekai story, Cleveland Quixotic, I decided to take a second stab at it.

Upon the reread, I was more amenable to a story that is simply a fun fantasy romp, and WtC has a strong sense of forward progression despite its length, which avoids the trap most long stories fall into of spinning their wheels without accomplishing anything.

As I got further into it, however, a strong metafictional element increasingly came into play. The conceit of the story is that the protagonist, a tabletop RPG fanatic in his previous life on Earth, has been put into a world eerily similar to the ones he created as a dungeon master. His actions seem to be guided or obstructed by a mysterious, unseen dungeon master with godlike powers, and the story often becomes more about trying to understand and play to the narrative that the dungeon master wants rather than simply brute forcing through challenges one after another.

At the same time, the protagonist's dead friend from Earth seems to have been transported to the world much earlier. Their narrative was Campbellian in nature, Hero's Journey incarnate, while the protagonist's is much more postmodern and subversive. This leads to some fascinating meditations on the develop of narrative over history; one of my favorite scenes is when a story-obsessed villain believes they can kill the protagonist despite his Chosen One status because it's a postmodern story and the protagonist dying unceremoniously wouldn't be out of place.

My absolute favorite part, however, is the climax. Without spoiling too much, it involves a long delve into a seemingly endless dungeon, where characters and abilities fall away one-by-one until what is left is only a bare, emotional finale. I love climaxes that involve some kind of literal and emotional ascent; I did something similar in Modern Cannibals and Cleveland Quixotic.

In general, it's difficult to finish something so long in such a satisfactory way, which only makes the ending more impressive. I was worried this story would Muv-Luv me. A year ago, I read the famous visual novel Muv-Luv, a sprawling work that begins as a comedy slice of life and ends as a futuristic science fiction war epic. My problem with Muv-Luv wasn't that it was bad; it even had many elements I adored. But its ending, while not terrible, was merely okay, and I ultimately felt like what I got wasn't worth the time investment I put into it. Worth the Candle's ending avoided that entirely, so I can wholeheartedly recommend it despite its length.

3. Cowboy Grak 5: Yet Another Fistful of Obols by Remy (gazemaize)

Lastly, this one is a fanfic of Worth the Candle, posted coincidentally one day after I finished reading. It's by Remy, the author of Chili and the Chocolate Factory: Fudge Revelation, one of the funniest stories I've ever read. With this fanfic of a webfic, Remy cements themselves as the comedy master of the webfic sphere. I can only hope they start posting stories with more regularity...

I can't say too much about this story without spoiling almost all of Worth the Candle, so I'll keep this brief. If you've already read WtC, then you should read this 100%.

Web fiction is exciting. People are able to write all kinds of insane stuff that would never survive the streamlined mainstream publishing industry of today. I hope to read some more unique webfics and see people continually push the boundaries of what can be done with a story. (Hopefully they're not all 1.6 million words though...)

#nostalgebraist #floornight #worth the candle #alexander wales #cowboy grak 5 #remy #webfic #web fiction

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