contains mind games, manipulation, power play, bratty reader, dominant Kenjaku, fingering, oral, semi-public setting, curse-on-curse tension, Suguru Geto’s body involved, deep history, degradation, obsession, light praise
You aren’t human. Not even close.
A curse in human skin—an old one. Ancient. Dangerous. Beautiful, if you cared about such things.
But you’ve always cared more about him.
Kenjaku. Parasite. Genius. Monster.
The only thing that’s ever made eternity feel interesting.
You’ve known him since the first body he took. Back when he still laughed with his mouth open and made mistakes with blood on his sleeves. Back when his ambition was raw and feral and stupid. You were cruel to him back then. Flirted with him like a cat plays with prey. And he let you.
Because he liked it.
Because you were the only one who never feared him. Not even once.
But now…
Now everything’s changed.
This body—his new body—is different.
Suguru Geto. The sorcerer with the face of a fallen god. It suits him too well. Too handsome. Too tragic. Too much your type.
You lean against a shrine pillar when you feel him approaching, the thick hum of cursed energy unmistakable. When he steps into view, moonlight carving sharp lines across his cheekbones, you exhale slowly—deliberately.
“Damn,” you purr. “This is the best one yet.”
His eyes flick up lazily. “You always did like pretty things.”
“No,” you grin, slow and sharp. “I like useful things. It just so happens that this one’s useful and hot.”
Kenjaku doesn’t smile, not really—but he gives you that look. The one that used to mean “be careful.” The one that now means “you’ve already lost.”
You step closer, every movement loose with confidence, cursed energy crackling like a storm in your veins.
“What?” you tease. “Not used to being stared at like a snack in this body?”
“I’m used to being feared in any body,” he replies smoothly. “But I’ll admit…”
His eyes drag over your form, slow and heated. “You wear that skin like a sin.”
“Flatterer,” you coo. “But I didn’t come here for compliments.”
“I know,” he says. “You came to misbehave.”
His hand grabs your chin before you can retort. Strong fingers, sure grip. You arch an eyebrow.
“Don’t act like you’re in control,” you murmur.
“I don’t have to act,” he replies—and slams you back against the shrine wall.
Your laughter is breathless. Perfect.
“Is this what old friends do now?” you taunt, even as his body presses flush against yours. “Throw each other against holy places and fuck like curses in heat?”
He smirks. “You started it.”
And you did.
Because the moment you saw him in that body, with that voice and that power crackling just beneath skin that wasn’t his, you knew you needed it. Not love. Not even lust.
Just possession.
He kisses you—hard. Like he’s trying to erase all the centuries you spent not being his. Your hands tear at his robes, fingers greedy, nails scraping over scarred muscle and sacred ink.
“Fuck,” you breathe, licking down his chest. “I can taste the residue of the one before. Suguru was strong.”
“Jealous?” he rasps, dragging his mouth along your neck. “He didn’t even like you.”
“Too bad,” you grin, voice wicked. “I love fucking the dead.”
Kenjaku growls, shoving your clothes aside like they’re beneath him. His fingers slip between your legs, and he hisses through his teeth.
“So wet already,” he murmurs. “I’ve barely touched you.”
“You’re in his body,” you bite back. “I’d be more concerned if I wasn’t dripping.”
His fingers sink in—two, then three. Your head thuds back against the wall, cursed energy flaring out of you like a siren call. You moan, loud and unashamed.
He fucks you with his fingers like he’s claiming you. Curling them just right. Grinding his thumb against your clit like he’s memorizing your weak spots all over again.
“You’ll come just from this,” he murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw. “Like the needy little curse you are.”
“I’ll come when I want to,” you snap.
“So come now.”
You do. With a whimper and a curse and his name between your teeth.
You drop to your knees before the haze clears, yanking his cock free. It’s thick. Veined. Heavy against your tongue. You look up at him as you suck him down slowly, letting spit drip from your chin, throat swallowing around him until his fingers tremble against your hair.
“Still got that attitude,” he groans, hips stuttering. “But fuck—you’ve missed this.”
You hum around him, dragging your mouth up and off with a wet pop. “Maybe I missed breaking you.”
He grabs you again, pulls you up, spins you around and bends you over the altar. Your chest presses to the cold stone. His body cages yours from behind.
“You’re going to regret that,” he growls—and drives into you in one brutal thrust.
You gasp, cursed energy flashing bright white-hot. His pace is punishing. Deep. Rhythmic. Every drag of his cock inside you like war drums under your skin.
“Say my name,” he pants.
“Which one?“
His hand wraps around your throat. You laugh.
“You always wanted me obedient,” you rasp, grinning back over your shoulder. “But I’m not human, darling. I don’t break.”
He grunts—thrusts harder—and still, you smile.
Because you’ll let him fuck you raw in a dead man’s skin.
And you’ll still be the one haunting him.
The air still crackles with the weight of what you just did.
Your legs tremble slightly, but you refuse to sink. He pulls out slowly, a wet sound echoing in the silent shrine, and for a moment neither of you speaks.
Then Kenjaku steps closer, palm sliding up your back. Not roughly. Not to tease.
Just touching.
You flinch at first—out of instinct, not fear—and he hums like he noticed.
“Don’t act like you didn’t need that,” he murmurs, fingers tracing the curve of your spine. His tone isn’t mocking this time. Just… observant. “You’re always so loud, so bold. But you let me fuck you like I owned you.”
You scoff, but your voice comes out weaker than you mean it to. “You don’t.”
“No?” he muses, and now his hands are smoothing over your thighs, your hips, guiding you to turn. “Funny. You let me touch you like I do.”
You don’t stop him when he kneels, wiping you clean with the edge of his robe. Suguru’s robe. Soaked now. Tarnished by you.
His eyes trail up your body slowly, deliberately. “You look beautiful like this,” he murmurs, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “Wrecked. Shining. Mine.”
You roll your eyes. “You always say that.”
“No,” he says. “I don’t. I never meant it before.”
Your stomach coils at that. A dangerous kind of warmth spreading behind your ribs.
He rises, smooth as ever, hands cradling your jaw. And for one brief second, there’s something like reverence in his eyes.
“Don’t leave yet.”
You blink. “Why?”
Kenjaku shrugs. “I like the quiet when you’re here.”
The silence stretches.
And then he leans in—just once—kisses your forehead like it means nothing. Or everything.
You hate the way your chest clenches.
You should leave. You know that.
But you don’t.
You linger over the edge of the shrine, dressing slowly, watching him from the corner of your eye. He’s lighting incense like nothing happened, like he didn’t just bend you over sacred stone and fuck you stupid.
“What are you planning next?” you ask finally. “Another massacre? Another cute little plan for evolution?”
He glances at you. “You used to like my plans.”
“I liked when they were chaotic. Personal.” You step forward. “You’re boring now.”
“Boring?” he echoes. “Or frightening?”
You smile, but it’s sharp. “I’ve never been afraid of you.”
“No,” he agrees, voice lower. “But maybe you should be.”
You tilt your head. “Why?”
Kenjaku looks at you—long and slow—and says, “Because I want to keep you.”
The words hit you somewhere deep. Ancient. Feral.
“You don’t keep curses,” you reply, quietly now. “We ruin. We leave. We haunt.”
His smile is soft. Cold. “That’s why you’re perfect.”
Your breath catches.
And just like that, you know: He’s going to ruin the world.
And he wants you beside him when he does.
Not because he needs you.
But because he wants you ruined with him.
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ full already? didn’t think so. my masterlist’s right here.
Poly!141+Nikolai x cursed!ghost!reader 🪞call of duty 🪞MDNI🪞 5.9k words🪞18+, explicit
Last chapter 🪞AO3 🪞next chapter
Tags: alternative universe, Johnny lives, poly!141+ Nikolai, ghost!reader, supernatural elements, murder, mirror portals, supernatural kept vague, curses, mention of cult, short mention of suicide, torture, mental health, ptsd, hearing loss, loss of limbs, wounds, flashbacks, disability, forced retirement, polyamory, smut, love, enemies to lovers, redoing a house, slight age gap (reader is mid 20s, Nikolai is 42ish, a cursed ghost, badly explained lore, original characters, Beatrice is back for a short moment, falling in love, rough sex, orgy, oral sex, penetrative sex, lowkey shade upon inpolite ghost hunters, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, nightmares, stealing, spanking, crack elements, daddy kink, more will be added.
A/N:I would like u all to know that I spent time looking at saws, only to realise that it was, well, maybe not really important what kind was used. Sorry to all the saw enthusiasts out there, but I just went with a sabre saw. I don’t even know if that one is optimal in this situation. Feel free to explain what saw would have been more realistic to use. <33
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Sometimes the memories of your own murder got stuck in your mind; they played on repeat, as if you were back in the last hours before your death, truly returning to the horrors you had experienced. You could hear their voices, their prayers to whatever god they attempted to please with the sacrifice of your body.
You wondered what kind of god would want a veteran like you, who was on their way to become a proper hermit. Had the cult even checked out your background before killing you or had they just spotted you in your uncle’s old house and thought ‘that’ll do’? Did those kinds of gods not always want a good person or something? was it because you were a virgin? WHY YOU? Did anyone turn up for your funeral, and if yes, who?
You hadn’t awoken until a couple of days later, in the house — you had managed to find your grave a little while later. You wondered for a good while, if your body was somehow still inside. Not that you were going to check even if the curiosity was there.
Whether somebody still visited your grave or not, well, you had no idea. You had only been there once. It felt like enough. Like a confirmation that you had died, that people had done a ritual marking your passing, so they could also move on in their own life.
Your body itched. It was still daytime and so far it had been quite a day. They had kept being noisy, restoring what was supposed to be your home, renovating what you didn’t finish.
While they had seemed upset about your note, they had hung a picture over the hole in the wall. A landscape picture that Soap had apparently painted. It was nice, you had to admit so, but it still annoyed you.
One of them had even gone so far to investigate you - or well, what was left of you in the government's records. They didn’t look into much, but did conclude that you technically didn’t buy the house like you had written.
”So, it’s clearly not her,” Gaz had pointed out, showing it on the laptop screen to Soap and the others - and while the others accepted it without hesitation, the Scot just shook her head.
”I’m telling ye all, it was ‘er I saw!” He pointed to one of the last pictures taken of you from the military. You were smiling on it, next to some of your friends, all dirty after a mission. Your toes curled as you watched the photo, watched how everyone was smiling, everyone was happy, relieved, alive –
”It was dark,” Price argued softly, “It could have look li—”
”I’m nae insane!” There was a certain desperation in his voice and you cringed as you floated next to Soap, who was visibly upset. You almost wanted to comfort him. Almost.
”We’re not saying you are, sweetheart,” Nikolai was kissing his cheek then, followed by kisses all over his face, “we just wanna solve this.”
”I’m nae insane.”
”Yet,” Simon ever so creepily added as a dark joke, earning a hit at the back of the head from the Captain. You wondered if the big guy would be afraid if you came face to face - if he would remain calm or not.
“We will be on the look out,” Gaz promised, and when you looked over at him, his smile almost blinded you. How could he make your toes curl with merely a smile?
It was weird to be looked into. They didn’t look too much into your murder, possibly to stray from the idea of something supernatural going on. You touched the scar on your stomach, feeling the crystals that grew along it. In a way, it felt like watching a television show, where you had no influence. Yet. Floating a little from them, watching them breathe and touch each other.
You didn’t really like being jealous… if that was what this was. You just wanted to be alive. Or at the very least, to be left alone. Alas. Since it seemed that they weren’t going to leave before you gave them more proof, well. That was what you were going to do then.
Perhaps you should choose another victim, but it just seemed easiest to scare Soap.
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The moment you were able to, you had messed with the security cameras they put up. It had been a rather exhausting task, as you had to do it when in your ghost-form during the day — but you had succeeded.
Only for the men to notice when they checked their apps. You floated nearby, cursing them out as they would reattach the wires or put in new batteries.
It continued like that throughout the next couple of hours after they had put them up. Even worse than that, however, they kept talking about cutting a straight up hole through the ceiling to get up to your room. Or, well. The attic - but you lived up there, so technically it was your room. They already had the rest of the house, they could stay out of your part.
Talked about checking out the roof, making sure nothing weird was up there.
Like a squatter.
Assholes. If you had actually been a human squatter, then you were a fucking amazing one, since you could get enter and leave a room that had no door. If only. You needed to distract them from the idea of ruining your room and instead just accept that the house was fucked up.
Eventually, you had grown too tired and retreated to your bed in said attic, falling asleep, slightly floating above the mattress, with your duvet around you.
When the sun set, you would see if you could scare any of them again. You still had the creepy dress after all.
There were so many disadvantages of them moving in and not just being some YouTubers that decided to hang out for a day or two. You couldn’t hang out in the kitchen to make food and now, with their stupid cameras, you couldn’t even steal food from the fridge.
In truth, one of the biggest disadvantages of them moving in, was the fact that you had to go piss in the forest. It was humiliating, even if you knew they couldn’t see you. There were some quite well working toilets inside the house after all.
The sooner they left, the fucking better. Even if you would feel bad for Benny and Beatrice if they had to sell the house again.
You woke when your body reappeared, pressing your lips together to keep the sounds of slight pain from escaping. Even though the transformation was familiar, pain was still pain. You had hoped to live a pain free life in your retirement but no luck.
It wasn’t that late, so it wasn’t a surprise to you to hear the sounds of the men downstairs. It would be stranger if they had all gone to bed by now.
Your new “ghost appearance” had to be better than last time.
Since you didn’t feel like having five giant human mountains running after you, you knew you had to choose a moment to reappear, when they were divided.
When you put on the dress, you looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment , the fake, dried blood still rather dramatic.
Whatever was needed to give somebody a scare, you supposed. Sure, if one got close, you just looked like somebody who was wearing a dress with red paint on.
It wasn’t like you had planned to suddenly become a costume maker.
Voices from downstairs pulled you back into the present, two voices somewhat audible.
“We’ve been looking along all day through the cameras, mate,” Kyle comforted who you assumed to be Soap, in the hallway just beneath you, “There have been no one.”
There were some sounds which you assumed to be Scottish curse words, but who knew.
“We’re right here,” added Kyle lovingly to the other and ha, you felt even worse for your plan of scaring Soap again — but he was the most easy, already on edge — so you finished putting on your dress, adding a bit more of the powder to your face. The big amount looked a little ridiculous on your skin, but at a distance it gave an effect.
”I ken, I ken,” the other man grumbled, before declaring a somewhat grumpy, “I’m gonna feed the kitty.”
Perfect.
”Alright - just… let’s watch the movie with the others afterwards, yeah?”
”Other things we could do,” there was a sudden tone in his voice that sent a warmth of embarrassment through your body, yup it was definitely embarrassment, nothing else, “If ye ken what I mean.”
”Hah, they got the bloody hint downstairs,” Kyle crooned back, the same charming, alluring tone to his voice as Soap’s, “Go feed your bloody cat, we’ll have fun afterwards.”
You heard a muted slap afterwards, which you assumed to be one of them slapping the other’s ass.
Focus. You needed to scare him again, not get turned on by a bunch of -presumably- gay men.
As you heard them part, you carefully tiptoed towards your mirror in the other end of the attic. You had a mirror behind the shed for practical purposes, as it was a quick way to get outside when in human form, and now it was placed perfectly for the impromptu plan.
Sliding through the mirror came so naturally to you that you barely thought about it by now. With the back porch light on, you would be visible when you stepped out in the garden, but not fully illuminated, adding to some of the scary vibes.
It still felt a little silly to hide behind a shed.
For a moment you considered whether to sing ‘come little children’ once more, as Soap was wearing his hearing aids right now… then again, you didn’t want to be called ‘broody’ again by Nikolai. You were still slightly, if not completely offended over him calling you that.
You weren’t broody. Hell, you might still get your period once in a while, but you strongly doubted that you could get pregnant when in this… situation. Dead-but-not-really-dead situation.
Nope, they didn’t understand your vision when you had chosen the song.
It wasn’t that cold outside, the sun’s rays still keeping the earth a little hot. Still, you felt a shudder go through your body, starting at your bare feet, rushing along your legs to your ears. The cold curled around your spine to remind you that you were alive. In the moment.
Showtime, you supposed.
Hopefully this would make Soap freak out even more, so that the others might get upset too - which would preferably result in their departure from your house.
You heard the back door open, and you took a breath as you stayed behind the shed, listening to Soap going outside.
Back Porch Cat was the perfect unknowing accomplice, meowing loudly, clearly happy that somebody came to feed it. As if you hadn’t done that for years on end. Little traitor.
“-yes yes, calm down, ye wee demon,” the sound of the bowl being put on the porch, then the rustling of a bag with pellets in as if your cat didn’t deserve wet food, “it’s nae like ye’re bloody starvi—“
You stepped out from your hiding spot, keeping your distance, but standing close enough to the light of the porch so you were still visible, the white dress standing out even more. You just hoped Soap didn’t think too much about the fact that the blood was the exact same spot as last time.
For a mere second Soap was too busy with the cat, but that was fine for you, it gave you an extra second to get to a good spot.
“Ohhh Jooohnnyyy,” you called out sweetly, dragging the vowels of his name out, watching how the big man froze - then his head snapped towards you, eyes widening at the sight of you, standing there, just like he had in the hallway. Mouth slightly agape, clearly not believing his eyes.
”What the feck,” Soap blurted out loudly while you continued to smile lovingly, perhaps enjoying this moment a bit too much - but it had been a while since you had scared anyone like this. It was probably some ghost hunters last time.
Poor Johnny… but he had been the easiest victim so far.
You stayed on the spot, tipping your head to the side, trying to seem as creepy as possible, keeping your smile a tad too sweet perhaps like kids did in horror movies, hoping you looked somewhat scary and not just stupid. Off putting. Eerie, no ghoulish! Maybe you should have been a horror actor of some sort.
”Hellooo Soaaap,” you crooned loudly, two seconds barely having passed, using his nickname this time hoping it would freak him out even more; as you saw how he paled, mouth still open, completely frozen to the spot on the porch, you would say you were succeeding. The cat let out a meow at the sight of you.
You could hear rummaging throughout the house, one of them calling out his name and then–
You barely managed to move in time.
If anyone had asked, you would had liked to have bragged that you noticed it in time because you were an observant veteran - but in truth, it was only because Back Porch Cat looked up, which made you look up to one of the windows over the porch as well.
The sight of the barrel of a rifle made you bolt on instinct, just in bloody time, the shot ringing out as you felt the bullet barely miss your naked toes.
It had been a while since you had run as fast as you did, another bullet hitting the skirt of your dress, once again barely hitting, but you felt the fucking air of it, so incredibly close to your leg.
How had you not fucking noticed the giant skeleton man in the window?
You all but threw yourself through your mirror, hearing the Scot bolting towards you, probably hoping to catch you. A real ghost didn’t avoid bullets after all.
Holy shit you wanted to strangle that Simon fucking Riley bloke.
The sound of your body colliding with the floor of the attic was far from discrete, but with the amount of horror in you body and with the yelling and moving that roared through the house, you didn’t really care. This was everything that was supposed NOT to happen.
The fear made adrenaline rush through you so fast and hard that you almost became dizzy, crawling a little longer further away from the mirror. Everything began to melt together for a moment, anxiety violent like you hadn’t tried for years. Only scantily you managed to tip over onto your back so breathing was a little easier. You laid on the floor, staring up at the roof above you, as you panted, intensely trying to avoid going into a full blown panic attack.
You were almost fucking shot!
Sure, you probably would have lived with a gunshot to the leg, but you didn’t really want to see what happened. You should have stolen all their bullets earlier like you had considered.
They were yelling. It was so fucking loud, slamming with doors, hell you even heard more guns be loaded. It was like you were back at your old military base for a second.
You were so fucking screwed. Not even in a good way.
Out of pure fear, perhaps a bit of shock, you remained on the floor of the attic, completely still, barely able to hear the men over the sound of your own heart and breath.
Suddenly your mind twisted; you were back in the battlefield, in a foggy forest with your full uniform and gear on, people all around you, yet the people that surrounded you weren’t your teammates - but the cult members who had killed you, their eyes all white as they stared at you. Their crystals were spread beneath your bare toes, mixed with broken animal bones, which all dug into your feet. The cuts on your entire body bled and stained the stones and bones beneath your feet, candles growing up like mushrooms from the forest floor.
Blood dripped from their ceremonial knives in their hands.
”The attic,” one of the cult members snarled loudly, even if his voice sounded different than what you remembered, it sounded more like one of the men in your house right now, “I knew she was hiding in the fucking attic, I told you all!”
It was the noise of the house and some doors slamming, that pulled you back into reality. You had to focus on breathing before you could make your eyes focus fully again.
You weren’t being sacrificed. Nobody was forcing crystals into your wounds, while chanting for a demon you couldn’t remember the name of. It wasn’t the cult members that were in your house right now.
Despite the noise throughout the big house, you felt your pulse beginning to slow down.
For once, morning couldn’t come fast enough. Despite your love-hate relationship with this whole cursed part and usually wanting to become human again, you really really wanted your ghost body right now..
Poor Soap. Well, you didn’t feel that bad about it, not with how scared the big, bad special forces man had looked. Sweet boy. Fearing the supernatural but not reality. Perhaps that was for the best. You wished you could have gotten to see the others' reactions. Ideally they would be just as perfect and hilarious.
The floor seemed like your saviour right now. You could feel the wood beneath you. You had died on the floor downstairs, but not up here. It had been your safespace ever since you woke up after your death, the attic somewhere the cult members hadn’t been. When everything was weird, when there were unwanted people in your house, no matter what form you were in - you could always go to the attic.
Nobody but you had been here for years, you had made it your home, it was the only place –
A sudden, very intense mechanical noise ripped you from your thoughts; it was incredibly loud, as if it was just beneath you, almost like a machine of some sort had been turned on. You only managed to frown before the sound worsened and then–
The tip of a sabre saw appeared right next to your shoulder.
You couldn’t help the frightened sound that left you, close to a scream, as you gracelessly stumbled away, your leg accidentally hitting your mirror.
The mirror tipped over before you could do anything.
Chaos erupted as you hurried to the other end of the room; away from the many shards of the mirror and the saw that were currently cutting quite a big hole up to your safepace. Their voices were loud but you couldn’t hear them, the noises too loud and your mind too fizzy with fear.
“Fuck fuck shit bollocks fuck fuck cunt fuck –” you couldn’t control your mouth and to be fair, it wasn’t like you had a lot of options of escape right now, so you cursing out loud didn’t really make that big of a difference. Unless they decided not to look up in the attic that they were cutting a hole up to right now, you could have hidden away.
Nah, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen. This was your bloody home!
Solution - you had to find some kind of solution to this problem. There weren’t a lot of possibilities, not really… not realistic ones.
The tiny window with blacked out glass wasn’t really an optimal choice. You strongly doubted you could get your shoulders through that, no matter how you twisted. Not to mention your hips and arse. Nope, down voted.
Second option, well, wasn’t really that much of an option. Trying to kill them with any of the few knives you had up here? You hadn’t been a special kind of fancy soldier or anything, they were much bigger than you and they were five men. Special forces. You could maybe manage to stab one of them once or twice before you would be overtaken. Besides – in the unrealistic hypothesis that you did kill them, what if they got stuck to the house as cursed ghosts like you were? What a fucking mood killer that would be. So no, killing them wasn’t an option.
Third option was the second mirror - it wasn’t that big and you hadn’t really used it to travel through before. You had just used it like one normally would a mirror. It was a ‘maybe’ option then.
Then there was the option to just give up and admit everything to them.
Sure, there was no problem with that one – you find a weird woman in your closed up attic, who said she was a cursed ghost who was human at night and that she was supernaturally stuck to their newly bought house… who would doubt you?
In most, if not all, scenarios you were screwed - still not even in the good way - since you couldn't just leave the house even if they told you to. Whatever force or power that it was, would pull you back, push you into the house once more.
As the saw disappeared for a second, the big square they had cut was almost ready to be pulled away, you just moved on instinct.
You took one of the knives that you had used for cooking whenever the house was left on its own, your hand shaking with how hard your grip was - and you hurried to the corner of the attic furthest from the hole. The tip of the saw appeared again, like a monster ready to rip you from your safety.
You felt an overwhelming urge to cry. Perhaps it was from fear of being shot, from sadness of them ruining the floor in the attic and forcing themselves into your safespace, perhaps it was from how badly all of this had backfired – and maybe because you were genuinely horrified of having to face another human being properly.
Sure, you had a conversation here and there with a staff member in the shops, but it had never been more than absolutely possible. You had spoken to the sweet old lady that was a medium when she had come by, but she had known of your situation - and she had never returned.
The saw disappeared again.
A pair of black gloves appeared for a second, like a monster peeking out from beneath the bed, grabbed onto the edge of the square and ripped, the sight making you shake. You couldn’t look away. A loud smack almost echoed throughout the house as the piece of the ceiling he had cut from downstairs, was thrown to the ground. A few shards of mirror followed.
Light filled the attic from the room below, making your own small lights seem weak in return. Dust danced around the air, the many shards from your beloved mirror glinted, as it was a magical party in here, and not the end of your life.
What a different way to die from the first, you supposed. If you could die - again. But if they did kill you and you stayed dead, you could thank them for that. This was better than being sacrificed by a crazy cult again, you figured, as there was a great lack of cheap crystals and mystical symbols from some weird dark web book.
The sharp, bright glow from the flashlight hit your face, making you squint before you attempted to press yourself even further into the corner of the attic, wishing you could change your form on command.
“My, my,” the voice, which you knew by now, crooned darkly , “If it isn’t our little Ghoulie.”
Hi! I’m a big fan! Your writing is so goooood! Jjk ask: If you can would you mind having yuji, Sukuna, and gojo react to a reader who’s in a similar situation as Yuji is with harboring an ancient curse deep inside of them? To give some context yes there is another powerful curse within the reader but unlike Sukuna this curse seems rather friendly at first glance. The curse rather enjoys what humanity has to offer and takes it easy.
What is really shocking is that the relationship between this curse and the reader is quite good with the curse allowing reader to tap into their power if needed. In turn the reader will allow the curse to fully take over their body once in a while as a sort of deal they made.
Sukuna also KNOWS this curse. Back in the day this curse was just like him. Cruel, feared, and unsettlingly close to him on the power scale. Now he sees them being so unguarded and trusting a human of all things he doesn’t know if he should feel insulted or just laugh.
The reader is very happy go lucky with everything quite carefree and seeing the curse as family in their eyes. They aren’t a sorcerer but manages to find themselves in trouble. They are rather naive and blindly trusting of anyone but can defend themselves with their own skills. The curse’s personality is jovial very upbeat and coy. To some it feels like they have some type of ulterior motive but nah- this curse just likes to keep people on edge. But don’t think any less of them they can get serious and down right vicious almost feral especially if the reader is in danger. It’s when everything goes silent is when shit goes down.
─Itadori, Sukuna & Gojo x vessel!reader
─Summary: A ridiculously friendly curse lets you use their power whenever and however you want in exchange for living at your expense, sounds pretty cool.
─Warnings: none
Part Two
─ He loves not being the only one with a curse inside, although he is jealous of the relationship you have with your curse, Sukuna only causes problems and you seem so happy and carefree with yours.
─ They are not even looking for you to kill you like him! You are not part of the Jujutsu school because you did not like that world, you already had your idea of the future and what you wanted to work on, something much simpler than risking your life exorcising things.
─ Poor boy, you don't know how much he envies you.
─ He will ask you for advice to try to get along with Sukuna, but you don't know what to answer him, your curse liked you for the simple fact of being a normal person, since it appreciated what genuine humanity entails.
─ Although your curse can offer him some tricks to use Sukuna's energy without him noticing.
─ You meet more often to do trivial things, go to a cafe or play video games, in general something that can take Itadori out of the cursed world for a while and relax.
─ You don't usually like it very much, but you offered him that if he was really in trouble during a mission, you would be willing to help even if you are not too fond of fighting, luckily your curse took control of your body on those occasions.
─ Sukuna tries to put shit about your curse just because they knew each other before, your friend is so angry when that happens that they start a verbal fight between them from each other's cheeks respectively.
─ They don't really care much if someone insult them, but anything towards you will be an unforgivable offense, nobody can mess with their little and kind human.
─ He's so angry, he'd spent years with your curse, razing villages, killing sorcerers, it was a completely violent and shameless thing, and now… they're trapped inside a human with useless aspirations, able to control your body but not doing it out of "respect".
─ He really hates them, had it been your fault? Had you appeased his former companion? He was intimidating you for a while to get you to talk, but you decided to ignore him, the king of curses made you too nervous and was too stubborn for your liking.
─ You tried to avoid him as much as possible, but sometimes you just got stuck with him because of Itadori (he wasn't aware of it), when that happened your mind seemed to cloud over during that time.
─ Your curse and Sukuna argued like a married couple during that time, they must have fought more than once and left you and Itadori confused after coming back to your senses with the room in a mess.
─ The king of curses can't accept that they simply decided to have a peaceful life with you, he also didn't understand what kind of pact you two had, you seemed to have control over everything, powers whenever you wanted or your body if they wanted.
─ For him it was ridiculous that such an insignificant being, who tended to get into trouble here and there, was accompanied and protected by someone who could very well be of his caliber, that kind of power was to destroy humans, not to help them.
─ He will continue to think that you used some cursed technique to brainwash them, but you don't even know how to do those things, your curse is who guides you and does all the work, but whatever makes him sleep better.
─ If Sukuna ever saves your ass, rest assured it will be for your friend and not for you.
─ He's a little irritated, because your curse manages to get on his nerves, he always seems to be plotting something evil, and when he thinks he's going to uncover the evil plan, he only finds you laughing while you calmly converse with a mouth on your cheek.
─ This man has tried every possible way to persuade you to be a jujutsu student, but you completely refused, your life was fine as it was, but you offered to help on small missions if they were tight, since you had the gift of your curse, the least you could do was help a minimum.
─ You're completely fine with Gojo, but your curse doesn't seem to get along very well with him, when they take control of your body they always get into little verbal fights over any nonsense just to show superiority.
─ Don't be surprised if you find yourself completely in pain on a random day, if you went out and ran into trouble and Gojo was there to fix it, he and your curse would fight until they got tired just after complete the mission.
─ Without really hurting each other, it was a fight of attrition, since Gojo appreciated you as a person and since you liked him too, your curse respected your preferences avoiding hurting the man.
─ Gojo will end up accepting that, one, you wouldn't join his team and two, your curse isn't really something to worry about unless you yourself were in danger.
─He would prefer you to lead a peaceful and normal life after seeing the brutality of your curse after you were seriously injured when you tried to help, if you were subjected to this kind of situation, who knows if your curse could get out of control.
─ It's better for them to continue with their carefree personality by your side than their wild side without you, as much as it bothers him to accept it, Gojo wouldn't have another new student.
A blind seer is an extraordinary rarity — born with a cursed technique that unveils the glowing threads of fate, luminous strands woven through every soul. In the present day, a single prophecy is spoken, one that shakes the very foundation of the Jujutsu world and binds two threads — one of the Oracle and the other of the Strongest to a shared, inevitable end:
"The Honored One shall rise not as their savior, but as the blade that severs their reign. The Elders will fall, not by curse, but by the hand they once revered."
Lol, really the thought process for that first one-shot. 'What if they were cursed and put into an even worse position than the original game MC?'
Pierrot is going to fret over them like nobody's business, all while they are assuredly imprisoned. Harlequin is going to do everything in his power to be an absolute menace while you are at your most vulnerable within your flower form (even with Pierrot being an immovable guard the whole time).
Doctor will be a little too curious about the whole thing for your liking, and Jester is way too distrusting of you after hearing you may have potentially killed anyone even somewhat similar to them. They'll want to get rid of you the first chance they get. But, ya know, immortality and Pierrot. At least Ticket Taker is just...there. He's about the only one you don't have issues with, mostly cause he avoids you and just does his job.
Warnings: I don't think there are any but please correct me if I am wrong.
Word Count: 3,565
Previous Part: Rhapsody
Next Part: Rapture
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
A/N Okay I know that canonically Charlie is like 200 but we're gonna make her 25.
After everything with Alastor, Y/n tried to continued their life as it had been before he'd stepped into. It was challenging, they faltered and misstepped. They had been good at being on their own once but now that they had a taste of the alternative, it was difficult to fall back into their old ways. Eventually, they managed to fall into a new pattern of being.
They were a bit more careful now, they didn't dash out unannounced from behind corners or secret hiding places. Seeing Alastor was the last thing they wanted to do. Now, they had someone to avoid.
For seventeen years, they continued on like this. They struggled through their battles on their own, against the overlords and against their own personal situation. They searched high and low for a cure but the only things they ever seemed able to come up with were false promises and temporary fixes. Every day, the curse the overlords had placed on them to limit their powers was growing stronger. Every time they used their magic, played their music, it became more and more corrupted and so, they learned to fight with their hands. This was until they got the call from Lucifer, of course.
The pair were old friends of a sort. Y/n had met him by chance within their first few days in Hell when he'd pulled them out of a tight spot. They didn't spend time together ever or really see one another at all but, Y/n had a vague sort of trust for the man, a strong sense of a debt needing to be repaid. Y/n didn't like owing people things, not even back when they were alive. They didn't like depending on people in that way. When he asked them if they could keep an eye on his daughter, they couldn't refuse.
Charlie was a lot. At twelve years old, she was bright and over the top and constantly bursting out into song. At first, Y/n had been rather uncertain about the whole arrangement, even when she'd gone through her emo phase at fifteen.
Y/n tried to steer clear of them for the most part. Picking her up from school, dropping her off. Babysitting when her parents needed a night to themselves, the normal stuff. When the issues started between Lilith and Lucifer, Charlie was suddenly thrust into Y/n's life a lot more. She had no idea the real reason, both her parents wanting to keep the trouble from her due to their own care and protective natures, and Y/n tried their best to keep it that way. It didn't help that by sixteen, Charlie had practically moved in with the demon but they managed.
Charlie had always pushed for a connection, something more than Y/n making her dinner and getting her where she needed to go. Y/n resisted at all costs. They'd been hurt before by trust, by care. The idea of going through it all again was terrifying. That all changed the day Charlie found out about the curse.
Y/n hadn't meant for her to find out. One of their situation's many many downsides was that while the curse ate away at their magic, it also ate away at their physical form. If they weren't careful, if they didn't temper their emotions and make sure they were eating enough raw meat, the beast would take over.
The beast was a horrific thing in their eyes, blood hungry and devastating. It was sub-human, sub-demon even, writhing and scornful. A mass of twisting shells of prey, a mass of claws and sharp teeth.
Of course, Y/n couldn't keep it from Charlie forever and on one fateful evening, Y/n had transformed. They'd been overworked, stressed about the fact that the Vees were gaining more territory and power, that soon they would be practically untouchable. They had forgotten to take care of themselves in the rush of it all, prioritizing Charlie and their plans.
When they had come back to their senses, come back to themself, it had been to the sight of Charlie. With a damp rag held to their forehead by the demoness and a whole lot of bones from victims of their situation on the floor around them, they had opened their eyes. Y/n had expected Charlie to flinch, to run in fear, to tell Lucifer who knew nothing about the curse. Instead, she had smiled brightly and told Y/n she was glad they were okay. From that day forward, they were absolutely inseparable, completely attached at the hip.
With Charlie's help and cheerful influence, Y/n was beginning to learn how to exist. They loved the girl like she was their own and Charlie knew if she ever had an issue of any sort, she could go to Y/n about it. Even when Y/n had relayed the story of how they'd been cursed and why, there had been no issues, no qualms, nothing. Charlie promised her watcher that she would help them break the curse, no matter what it took.
It was watching Charlie come into herself as a young adult, watching her meet and fall in love with Vaggie that made the real difference. The princess of Hell was unapologetically herself and Vaggie took everything she had to offer with open arms. Slowly but surely, the search for a cure took a back seat as did Y/n's goal of taking down the overlords of Hell. Their life was different, but they were happy. They found themself wishing for the past, the one they had shared with Alastor, less and less, channeling their energy into the world around them. They didn't even notice when the reports started to come in that the Radio Demon of the overlords had seemingly vanished.
Things hadn't been without their challenges. Charlie's relationship with her dad was strained to say the least and when her mom had disappeared? She'd been absolutely inconsolable but with one another's help, they figured things out, made it through.
When Charlie pitched the idea of the Happy Hotel, Y/n had been doubtful. They knew a lot about Hell, the way it functioned, the way the demons within were. It came from decades running around back streets and surviving in the underworld of the underworld. It was Charlie's hope that did it, her earnest gaze. Y/n had caved and after months of hard work, the Hotel had finally opened.
Things were going well, too well even. Then there had been the interview with Katie Killjoy, the other shoe dropping. Y/n had watched it from the sidelines with Vaggie. As soon as Charlie had come down off the set, they had enveloped her in their arms and held them close. With Vaggie's help, they managed to get Charlie back to the hotel.
Once she had calmed down a little bit, Charlie stood from where she had been seated in the sitting room beside Y/n, Vaggie, and the hotel's one resident: Angel Dust. She mentioned something about calling her mom before disappearing into the lobby.
Y/n and Vaggie exchanged a look. They both knew the situation Charlie was in with regards to her mother and how she tended to get after one of her failed attempts to contact the woman. Neither thought this was the time or the place to step in however, and remained seated, chatting idly with Angel as they waited for Charlie's return.
When she finally did, it was with a nervous attitude and a strained expression.
"Hey Vaggie?"
"What?" Vaggie asked as she and Y/n twisted to look at Charlie who stood in the door way behind the couch.
"Can you come help me please?"
Vaggie got to her feet and exited the sitting room with her girlfriend. Y/n turned to Angel to continue their conversation but had barley gotten a word to the spider demon out when Vaggie stepped back in the room.
"Y/n?"
"Yeah?" Y/n replied calmly.
"Charlie actually needs our help with this one, I think."
"Alright then." Y/n got to their feet, shooting a glance back at Angel, "A true hotelier's work is never done." they lightly joked and Angel rolled his eyes.
"What's this about?" Y/n asked Vaggie as they followed her down the hall towards the hotel's main entrance.
"Just..." Vaggie sighed, "you'll see."
Noting the girl's odd behavior and stressed demeanor, Y/n steeled themselves. Not much put Vaggie on edge. She was strong, toughened, as far as Y/n knew, by a brutal upbringing in the streets of Hell. While each use of their powers made the curse grow stronger, they would not hesitate to protect Charlie or her dreams should the need arise. Besides, they'd become quite good at other means of self preservation over the years.
As they rounded the corner into the lobby space, Y/n was greeted by a flash of red as someone pushed past Charlie into the space from the street and a familiar voice.
"Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on the picture show and I just couldn't resist. What a performance! Why I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929. So many orphans."
Y/n let out a low growl, summoning their lute into their hands and Vaggie pointed her spear at the Radio Demon. It was pure instinct. If they knew anyone, they knew Alastor and redemption was not the Radio Demon's cup of tea. As Charlie shut the door, he turned to face them. Y/n walked a few steps forward, planting their feet a little ways away from Alastor and poising their fingers to play.
"Get out of here." They said through gritted teeth.
Alastor's eyes widened with recognition for the smallest moment. As quick as he had lost it, he regained his composure.
"My what a protective force this Hazbin Hotel has." Alastor mused.
"It's called the Happy Hotel actually?" Charlie hesitantly corrected and he laughed.
"Not anymore its not. I did you the favor of fixing your sign."
A little threat couldn't hurt, a little reminder of who he was dealing with. Alastor had no idea Y/n was any less capable than when he'd first met them. One little note couldn't hurt, wouldn't show any of the damage done. Y/n plucked a single string on their instrument and the room around them began to glow. Everyone's hair lifted around their faces, the loose edges of their clothes beginning to flutter.
"Get out of here now. I wont ask you again."
"Now, is that anyway to treat an old friend?" Alastor replied, smirking.
Everything suddenly clicked into place. There was something different about him. Y/n couldn't put their finger on exactly what it was, but they could tell he hadn't been lying. He'd been at the Hotel for at least five minutes by now, maybe more with all Charlie and Vaggie's running back and forth since his arrival. If he had had any truly negative intentions, they would have revealed themselves, especially to Y/n. Alastor was a good liar, but no one was that good, good enough to trick someone who had watched them become the person they are.
"Old friend?" Vaggie repeated, turning to Y/n in confusion.
Their grimace faltered, before falling completely. They released their instrument, letting it hang loosely in their hand by their side.
"Alastor! You're embarrassing me in front of my kid."
"Your kid?" Alastor asked after a moment.
This time the shocked expression that crept its way onto his face stayed there.
"You know him?" Charlie asked at the same moment as Alastor spoke.
Y/n let their instrument dissolve into the air and gestured to Charlie.
"My kid. And yes, Charlie. I know Alastor."
Alastor turned, looking Charlie up and down.
"You got with Lucifer?" Alastor asked in confusion as he looked back at Y/n.
They laughed lightly at the notion, unable to stop themselves. They shook their head.
"No. Oh my gosh, I would never. Seriously just... great guy and all but no thank you. I just take care of his kid for him. Well, used to. We sorta got attached."
Charlie walked up to Y/n as they spoke, pulling them into a side hug.
"Y/n practically raised me. They were kinda the only one who was always there for me."
Y/n looked down at Charlie with a fond smile. They ruffled her hair and Charlie quickly batted their hand away.
It was clear to Alastor that Y/n had changed. They were no longer the trouble making demon he had known, that he had loved. Still, there was that same spark in their eyes, that fervent desire, that want. From just the small interaction playing out before him, he could tell that Y/n had learned how to trust and protect rather than just fight. They had learned to live hand in hand with that creeping need woven so tightly around their bones, rather than despite it.
It made him happy to see, it made him happy for her. At the same time, it caused his heart to ache terribly. They had finally been able to let someone in, and it hadn't been him.
In the years since their separation, Alastor had never stopped thinking about Y/n. Their memory was tender to the touch, shot sparks of joy or anguish down him depending on the day. It was like an old wound that had never quite healed right. Seeing them now was unexpected. The wound reopened. He sheltered himself.
Y/n saw the way Vaggie still had her spear pointed at Alastor, aimed straight at his neck. Gently, they placed a hand on it, pushing it down. Vaggie looked at them, her eyebrows raised.
"If he wanted to hurt anyone here, he would have done so already."
Vaggie stared at Y/n for a moment. Seeing how serious the demon that had become a mentor to her was in this moment, she lowered her blade. Y/n's hand fell back to their side.
"Now," Y/n turned to look at Alastor once again, "why are you here?"
----
It was late. Vaggie had told Y/n that Charlie wanted to speak to them about something in their office and so, Y/n found themselves outside the familiar door. They knocked once on the dark red wood.
"Yeah?"
They opened the door and Charlie smiled.
"What'd you wanna talk to me about, Sunshine?" Y/n asked as they entered the room, taking a seat in the chair across the desk from their young charge.
"Just about Alastor."
They should have known. Not only was the hotel at a potential risk thanks to the decision to allow him to work with them but Charlie had always had a sharp sense of curiosity. Y/n sighed.
"Fire away, kiddo."
"Well, how do you two know one another? Can we trust him? Do you think he means what he says he does? I thought you hated overlords? I.. I..."
Y/n smiled softly, the change in their face easing Charlie's nervous temper.
"We will handle these one at a time, no prying. Deal?"
"Y/n, you realize how suspicious that makes you sound, right?"
"Fine. A little prying. Deal?"
"Deal."
Y/n leaned back in their chair, letting out a sigh of nostalgia. Their hands rested on their stomach as they kicked their feet up onto Charlie's desk.
"I... I met Alastor practically right after he arrived. We both thought the overlord system was dumb and so, we decided to team up."
There was a moment of silence, broken by Charlie. The young demoness had always loved Y/n's stories, begged to hear them. They had never once heard this one before.
"Is that all?"
Y/n shook their head.
"We dated."
"You dated!" Charlie exclaimed in shock, nearly jumping out of her seat, "You dated the Radio Demon. Were you in love?"
Of course she'd go on and ask that next. Not 'how'd that happen?' not 'when was this?' No, Charlie had to go for the hardest question first, like she always did.
"Yes." Y/n hesitantly replied, "I did."
"I... oh my god. This is actually crazy. You dated? You actually dated. Like for real, in love, dated."
"Alright." Y/n clapped their hands, taking their feet off the desk and righting themselves in their chair, "Next question."
"Bu-"
"I said some prying."
"Fine." Charlie sighed, crossing her arms, "But I am gonna get that story out of you eventually."
"I'm sure you will, sunshine." Y/n chuckled lightly, "Now. Can we trust him? I... I'm not sure."
All the excitement vanished from Charlie as she looked seriously over at Y/n.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?"
"Because, he's up to something but not with us. Or, if it is with us, it's not to hurt us. I... something happened to him, something is different. I am not sure what I just... he's not here to hurt us... I think..."
"You think?" Charlie repeated indignantly, "Can you be a little more sure of that maybe? Why only think?"
"It's been a long time since I've seen him, Charls. Maybe being an overlord is what changed him. I have no way of knowing but my gut tells me he's okay, at least for now."
"You knew him before he became an overlord?"
"You really think I would team up with one of those bitches? Come on. You know I hate them."
"I-"
"Next question." Y/n quickly interrupted, not wanting to think on the past anymore than was necessary, "I think he does mean what he says, as was implied in whether or not I trusted him but the same caveats that applied there apply here too. And I do hate overlords, I just..."
"You just love him." Charlie teased.
Y/n's cheeks grew hot. They looked away.
"I do not. I loved him. There is a difference."
"Uh-huh. Sure. Why did you guys break up?"
Y/n turned back to Charlie. They couldn't say no to those eyes.
"Well, he became an overlord. Also I maybe... never told him. About the curse. He could tell something was up and..." Y/n took a breath, "couldn't take it after a while I guess."
"So you guys still loved each other when you broke up."
"What are you scheming over there."
"Nothing! Nothing!" Charlie quickly replied as she not so discreetly scribbled something on a piece of paper, "How long were you together?"
Y/n placed their hands on the arms of the chair, pulling themselves to their feet.
"Alright, trouble maker, I think thats enough lore outta me tonight."
"But Y/n!"
"I'm gonna go to bed. Vaggie already headed upstairs for the night I think. Sweet dreams, princess."
"Good night Y/n." Charlie dejectedly replied as she realized she really wasn't going to be getting anything else out of her mentor that night.
"Good night."
Y/n was about half way through the Hotel back to their room when they felt a hand on their shoulder. Reacting purely out of instinct, they ducked out from under the person's grip, spinning around with their fists raised. Alastor smiled down at Y/n and they sighed.
"What is it?" they asked, straightening up.
He had expected Y/n to be angry, to have that familiar sharp edge behind their voice. Instead, they looked up at him. As if everything was normal, as if it hadn't been thirty years since they'd last seen one another, as if they had just been together yesterday, their eyes met his.
"I... it's good to see you."
"It's good to see you too." they replied after a moment's thought, "What are you doing up this late?"
"You know me, sleep is not my preferred way to pass time."
"I meant what are you doing in the hall, but sure. Yeah, I know you."
"That darling Charlie asked to see me."
Y/n scoffed, shaking their head with a tired smile.
"Of course she'd... yeah."
They stood in the hall facing one another. Just a few feet apart. The silence was thick.
"You seem happy."
"I am." Y/n nodded, "Charlie is a great kid. I was pissed when Lucifer first asked me to look after her, I'll admit it but, she has grown on me."
"I didn't know you were acquainted with the big man. I thought you despised all authority figures."
Y/n looked critically at Alastor, over his whole being. He felt they were looking into his very soul, the heart of all his intentions and desires. He felt absolutely naked in the worst way under their gaze.
"No, just overlords. Especially ones who make deals for the souls of others. It's a stupid and outdated system. Even the best of them like Rosie abuse their power to get what they want."
It was a well sharpened arrow, the remark. Perfectly aimed. Alastor had, after all, introduced the small group inhabiting the hotel to Husk and Nifty just that afternoon. Y/n turned their back to Alastor.
"She has big dreams and the passion to see them through. I believe in her. Don't... don't fuck this up for her, Alastor."
With the battle won and the fortress still standing, you and Maglor share a tender moment in the morning. You two then settle on a deal for the twins' future
Warnings: some fluff, some playful banter, and you adding a serious term to your deal.
Maglor groaned, feeling warm light hitting his face. Opening his eyes and blinking a few times to clear the blurriness, the first thing he saw was the stone ceiling of the healer’s wing. Fully awake, he looked around, seeing many of his people being treated for their injuries. The sounds of pained groans, footsteps, and the clicking of medicine bottles filled the atmosphere. However, there were no signs of orcs or indications that they had lost the battle, allowing him to release a sigh of relief.
His ears then picked up soft snoring, and he looked down to see the twins sleeping at the foot of his bed.
Elrond was curled up on the left side, holding his plush toy, while Elros was sprawled over on the right. Maglor softened at the sight and felt relieved to see them unharmed.
Maglor raised his hand to feel his shoulder, wincing from the sharp sting, but then feeling stitches over the bite mark and the line you used to drain the venom. His face and ears began to burn red when he recalled that moment, or the moment you pulled him into a deep kiss to transfer the antidote.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Your voice suddenly snapped him out of his thoughts.
Maglor looked up to see you standing at the foot of his bed, holding a cup. You were out of your protective gear, and there were shadows under your eyes. However, you were alive and wearing that smile of yours.
“How are you feeling?” you asked as you walked over to his bedside.
“Better… though my head hurts a little,” Maglor replied, rubbing the side of his forehead where the strange pain lingered.
“Yeah. I’m afraid that’s a side effect of the antidote, but you don’t need to worry. It will go away on its own,” you explained and then handed him the cup you were holding. “Here. Have some water. ”
Maglor thanked and took the cup. He stared at the clear water for a moment before taking a sip, the cold liquid banishing the dryness in his throat and making the pain in his head milder.
“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, looking at the stitches.
“It stings a bit, but it will be fine,” Maglor answered.
You nodded. “That’s good. Though I hope you don’t mind having a massive hickey for a while,” you chuckled, as Maglor tried to cover the dark area around the bite wound, his ears beaming red.
“You did… what you had to do. It’s a small cost for saving my life,” Maglor murmured, then turned toward the twin.
“Are they…” he motioned toward the twins.
“They’re okay. Thanks to you,” you said with a smile.
“I’m glad,” he nodded before looking at you. He frowned when he saw deep purple bruises covering the side of your face.
“You’re hurt…” he murmured.
“Hm?” You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“You have bruises on your face,” he clarified, raising his hand close to your face.
“It’s okay. It's nothing a cold pack and some healing salve won’t fix,” you assured, gently grabbing his hand.
“What happened?” Maglor asked.
“To get you the antidote…” You hesitated for a moment. “I… might have jumped off a wall,” you revealed, and his eyes widened.
“You… jumped off a wall?” Maglor asked, wearing an expression as though he couldn’t comprehend what he had just heard.
“Yeah. The vampire venom itself was part of the antidote. And the nearest vampire was about to leave, so… I jumped off a wall to catch it and might have crashed against a wall on the way down,” you explained.
“But it's okay! I didn’t break any bones, miraculously,” you added, then smiled. “Honestly, the vampire had it so much worse.”
“Also…” you said, and Maglor looked at you. “I might have used all your lamp oil to cause a big fire on the orcs at the gate and smashed all your lamps to burn orcs and their ladders to buy you some time to block the breach,” you continued.
“I noticed there was a fire at the gate. That was you?” he asked, curious.
“Yep,” you nodded.
Maglor stared at you quietly for a moment before bursting into a laugh. His laughter was low at first before becoming fuller, shaking out of him helplessly. It was warm, unrestrained, and something that made you smile.
He dragged a hand down his face, still laughing, before looking at you. “Oh, you crazy yet... remarkable woman!” he uttered between the laughs.
You shrugged with a smile of your own. “We courted for like seven years, and you’re just discovering that? I'm starting to worry if you ever knew me at all,” you remarked.
Maglor snorted, shaking his head.
You giggled.
Maglor looked at you, softness shining in his eyes. “Thank you, (Name).”
“You had every reason not to aid us—or even save my life—yet you still did,” he continued. “I am indebted to you.”
You shook your head lightly. “Hey, you risked your life to protect the twins. That’s more than enough to return the favor.”
“Still,” Maglor insisted. “You put your life on the line to stop the orcs from breaking through the gate. We might not have been so fortunate if it weren’t for you.”
“Honestly, it was a desperate attempt to buy time. It might not have worked at all, so let’s just be grateful the gate was made from something that didn’t burn easily…” you admitted.
Maglor regarded you with curiosity.
“Charred oak…” You uttered, earning a snort from him.
“Desperate or not,” he replied, “you still prevented the worst from happening, and saved my life. Something I didn’t even deserve.”
You shook your head at him. “Oh, you and your melodramatics. Even if you didn’t commit any of your crimes, I would have still done it,” you said. “And didn’t I tell you not to try to die on me before the battle?”
“Sorry, princess. But you’re not gonna die easily under my watch, whether you liked it or not,” you stated.
Maglor hummed with a soft smile before staring at the sheets of his bed with a thoughtful gaze.
“Would it…” Maglor began, then stopped, as though the words themselves weighed too much. He met your gaze again. “Would it be selfish of me to ask you to stay?”
You studied him for a moment before smiling. “No,” you said softly, then chuckled. “Not when you ask with such yearning in your eyes.”
“It’s just…” Maglor murmured. “Last time you left, you never came back. I didn’t know if I could bear the thought of you leaving again and learning that your life had been taken once more…”
You looked at him thoughtfully. You didn't really think he would see it that way. If you had been in his place, you probably wouldn't have wanted him to leave either.
“I…” you began, and Maglor met your gaze. “I told the twins about their parents—technically, I told them their parents went on a very long trip, and then asked if they would like to stay,” you explained.
“They said yes,” you added with a smile.
Maglor’s eyes softened with quiet relief and joy. “That… would also make it easier for me to repay you.”
You snorted into a laugh, shaking your head before tilting it at him. “Again with the… ‘I owe you my life and must repay it’ talk?” you asked.
Maglor returned a sheepish smile. “You should know how we Noldor are. We refuse to leave a debt unsettled,” he said. “Can I please do something to repay you?”
You stared at him. He met your gaze without backing down, making you shake your head. Damn Noldor and their stubbornness. He will not relent about his debt, no matter what you say.
You thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Fine,” you said.
“How about this?” you started, and he listened.
“To make up for this and what you did to them, “ you motioned toward the twins. “You will help me raise them and give the best childhood they can have, despite the state of the world right now.”
“You will be involved until they’re fully grown and they can make it on their own, and then we consider this debt settled,” you continued.
“And as additional terms, we must raise them with good values, keep them out of politics, and teach them to be kind,” you listed, Maglor nodding.
“And…” you thought about yourself and Maglor. “How about we do not allow each other to die?” you asked. “Just as we look out for the twins, we must look out for each other.”
“That sounds… good to me,” Maglor answered.
You then thought about his oath and the Silmarils. It made you imagine scenarios in which he might leave before the twins were fully grown. The Noldor are serious when it comes to settling their debts, but Maglor’s oath might pull him away from that—and from you. You knew well that you could not persuade him to abandon his oath, but what could you do to ensure he would not abandon his debt? Only one thing came to mind.
“And one more thing…” you said, making him look up at you. “If you walk away from this debt because of the oath and those damn Silmarils, your life will be mine.”
Maglor met your gaze as you continued.
“You once told me you would never commit kinslaying again, and then proceeded to break your word twice,” you explained. “I saved your life this time. So if you leave to fulfill your oath without settling this debt first, I will take it back,” you said firmly.
“Don’t take this as me trying to forbid you from fulfilling your oath. You can do that once the twins are fully grown and can take care of themselves,” you added. “I just want some assurance that you won’t walk out on us if one of those rocks happens to reappear.”
“So, what do you say? Do you accept this term?” you asked.
Maglor held your gaze, serious and unflinching. “I understand… That would only be fair,” he said at last. “Very well. I accept it fully.”
“It’s a deal then,” you said.
Standing up, you stretched your shoulders. “Okay. I’m gonna go stretch my legs and check on Donna. I hope last night didn’t traumatize her too much,” you said with a humored tone.
“Then, probably go take a long nap. I’ve been up all night, tending to you and the other wounded,” you said.
“Rest well,” Maglor said.
“You too. You definitely need it,” you said and left his bedside.
You walked out of the healers’ wing, stretching your shoulders and shaking your legs, which were ready to go to sleep. You took a deep breath of fresh air and looked around the front yard. Elves were already working on repairing the breach and the walls damaged by the boulders. The gate still stood, though its front was blackened with scorch marks, and the battering ram had been reduced to burned charcoal.
You watched as the yellow and red leaves from the front yard tree began to fall to the ground, while a soft, chilly breeze brushed against your face. You stared at the leaves, aware that winter was not too far behind.
Someone suddenly appeared beside you, casting a shadow over you. You lifted your head up to meet Maedhros’s gaze as he looked down at you. Though his gaze was still sharp, they no longer held the condescending flare like before. Still, you looked back without backing down, waiting for him to say something.
“I heard what you did at the gate,” he started. “Not only did you save Maglor’s life, but you also prevented the orcs from breaking through.”
“I… apologize for my behavior,” he continued.
“No problem,” you replied.
Maedhros turned his gaze away. “You and the children may stay in Amon Ereb if you wish,” he said, before walking past you and entering the healer’s wing — most likely to check on Maglor.
A smile dressed your face after he was gone. Perhaps things at Amon Ereb will not be so bad after all.
I haven't seen too many fics on the reader being an absolute little shit and I think it's a hilarious thought, so here we go
TW: Swear words are used, rape is mentioned briefly (just one word)
🔥 You used to be known as the gremlin child in your friend group. Slept all day, stayed up all night, blasted whatever music matched your vibe, and was known for being a downright degenerate
🔥 You'd often end up in the deep, dark corners of the web after your hours of surfing the internet, and, eventually, you stumbled across a blog about an estranged children's show called Welcome Home!
🔥 You thought it was cute, but grew especially fascinated with the show's main character, Wally Darling
🔥 He grew fascinated with you too. A lot
🔥 So he nabbed your ass and took you Home
🔥 When you woke up on his living room floor, you didn't freak out like you thought he would. In fact, you were eerily calm. You sat up and looked at him with a blank expression on your face that he couldn't possibly hope to match
🔥 "If you don't tell me where I am in the next three seconds, I'm running out the door and screaming rape." Wally didn't know what that was, but he knew his friends would be concerned if a stranger ran out of his house screaming anything, so he explained the situation
🔥 You just nodded along as he spoke until he was done. "So, like, I'm stuck here? With no hope of getting out?"
🔥 "Yes, but it's okay, Neighbor.. Your dear friend, Wally will help you settle in..." He cocked his head and smiled.
🔥 "... Yeah, no, fuck that mess. I'm gonna find someone that actually has an ounce of sanity." You tried to walk out but Home wouldn't let open the front door.
🔥 "Open the door before I break a window and get out that way." Home opened the door.
🔥 You met the neighbors and despite the fact that they probably deserved to know that Wally was actually fucking crazy, you wanted to preserve their innocence, so you just acted like you just moved in.
🔥 There was actually a new house on the block, completely suited to your personality, so it wasn't a lie.
🔥 You settled in quickly and made friends with your neighbors (except for Wally), often doing activities with them and hanging out.
🔥 Meanwhile, Wally was distraught! This wasn't going how he wanted at all! Every time he tries to talk to you and explain himself, or apologize, you act like he's a fly @:(
🔥 You found a boom box in your house and used that to annoy the shit out of him as payback. You tried different genres of music so find which he disliked the most, and then stood outside Home and blasted it at night.
🔥 Turns out, he strongly dislikes rap. He finds most of it distasteful. So, of course, that's what you always play. Your favorite was Short Dick Man by Gillette, you thought it suited him so well 😍🥰
🔥 Yeah, no, he fucking hated that song. He didn't quite understand the lyrics but he could take a guess that you were poking fun at him. He'd poke his head out the window with an uncharacteristic frown. "Would you please.. turn that off.. I can't sleep."
🔥 "Bruh, we both know you literally can't sleep, bffr." You'd turn it up louder.
🔥 Julie would sometimes join in on the fun too. She thought it was such a fun game! You'd just snicker and pass her the boom box.
🔥 Wally decided he'd had enough and marched up to you. "Neighbor, I'm very tired of your games.. You've been acting very unneighborly..."
🔥 "Ok boomer lol"
🔥 At this point, even if he did find a way to send you home, you'd refuse. It's become your life goal to harass him until the day you die. And you don't think you can die in this world, so you get to haunt him forever, isn't that fun? ❤️
