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#she's back so why are others still sad? do they wish she had stayed dead? she isnt a ghost anymore!! it was hard for her too!!
b1ird · 5 months
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tfw you come back to your home after being framed for a murder and faking your death to escape to a different country, keeping truth about you away from your family and friends, including your partner who's a bad liar, but now that you're back things can go back to normal...right?
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punkshort · 1 month
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i know who you are | 6. the fight
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Word of Joel's indiscretion spreads quickly through town, leading to a vicious fight. When Joel begins to worry you may never forgive him, he sets into motion a plan to win you back.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, previous infidelity mentioned, violence (fist fight), blood, bruises, jealousy/possessiveness
WC: 8K
Series Masterlist
The thought of leaving your bed was excruciating.
For nearly three days, you could hardly do much more than use the bathroom and drink some water. When you heard Joel leave for patrol, his footsteps always pausing hesitantly on the other side of your door before begrudgingly going down the steps, you would eventually drag yourself downstairs and force yourself to eat something. Anything. It didn't really matter. You didn't crave anything. Didn't look forward to a single thing except the sweet embrace of sleep. But by the fourth day, you knew you would have to go back to work or else Nick would make a house call to check on you.
You had lied and said you hurt your back so you could get out of working for a few days, but enough time had passed, enough tears were shed, enough pity was wasted when you finally forced yourself to get up one morning and take a shower.
It helped more than you thought it would. The steam billowing around you in the confined space, the warm water pummeling your shoulders, working out the kinks in your muscles from too many hours hunched over in agony. If you had any self-awareness, you might have asked yourself why you had such a powerful reaction to Joel kissing someone else. If you had a clear enough mind, you might have remembered you didn't even react this badly when you woke from your accident only to discover your whole family was dead and the world went to hell.
No, you only seemed to fall into a deep depression over Joel finding comfort from another woman.
And not just any woman. Angie.
It still made your blood boil as you slipped on clean clothes for work. You should have known she was a shark, smelling blood in the water that very first night when she cornered you in the bathroom.
And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to accuse you of not caring. Not giving a shit about him, to be exact.
That fucking asshole.
When you came down the stairs and spotted the coffee maker still on with your favorite mug next to the carafe, you scoffed and kept walking to grab your coat. As much as you wanted some coffee, you were too stubborn to accept Joel's shitty gesture.
The winter sun was blinding against the snow. Or maybe your eyes were just too swollen and dry, too accustomed to staying in the darkness of your bedroom for days on end, but whatever it was caused you to wince and rub your face.
"Hey! You're alive!" you heard Ellie's voice call out from the driveway. She was walking up the path at the exact same time as you with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her winter jacket unzipped.
"Yeah, barely," you replied, wishing you had some of the coffee Joel had left behind. You took the porch steps carefully and met her out on the sidewalk, your pupils finally adjusting to the brightness. "How's it going, kid?"
She opened her mouth to reply but paused, giving you a funny look.
"What's wrong?" you asked, unable to read her expression.
"Nothing, just that nickname... took me by surprise," she laughed with a shake of her head, "you used to call me that before. Haven't heard it in a long time, I guess." You shielded your eyes and shrugged.
"Common nickname, I suppose," you reasoned, and she nodded in agreement.
"How's the back?" she asked with a point, and you almost had to ask her what she was talking about before you remembered your lie.
"Oh! Much better, thanks. Must've pulled a muscle or something, who knows."
"Well, that's good. Listen, I gotta get to school, but do you wanna get dinner later with me and Dina? Seth's making mac and cheese, and it's like, the fucking best, dude," she said excitedly, and you didn't have the heart to say no.
"Yeah, sounds great," you smiled, then gave her a quick wave before heading in the opposite direction towards the infirmary.
It was only a short ten minute walk to work, but the fresh air combined with stretching your muscles for the first time in days really did something to improve your mood. By the time you pushed open the door to the infirmary, you were actually looking forward to working again.
And so was Nick, apparently, because his eyes lit up and his body sagged with relief when he saw you.
"I was a few hours away from sneaking you the good pills and begging you to come back," he joked, then his face turned serious. "Everything alright? What happened?"
"Oh, I'm fine," you said, waving off his concern, "I slipped on some ice and pulled a muscle, it's all good now."
"Well, be careful out there, alright? You're the best aide I have."
"I'm the only aide you have," you corrected him before hanging up your jacket. "What do you need me to do?"
The morning went by fast. Nick had told you in the few days you were out, the clinic wasn't terribly busy, but he unfortunately did fall behind on housekeeping. So you busied yourself running loads of sheets and blankets to the laundry, then sanitizing equipment until Mr. Phillips came in after lunch with a laceration on his arm from working in the stables. It wasn't a bad injury, but it required some cleaning and a few stitches, which you were secretly eager to observe. You wanted to get more exposure to stitching in the hopes of being able to take care of non-emergency injuries by yourself one day.
It felt good to feel useful again. Staying busy forced your mind off Joel and the whole mess waiting for you at home, and you were grateful for the distraction. So much so that you decided to stay a little longer than usual and fold the linens that came back from the laundry. You were killing two birds with one stone: staying busy and avoiding going home in between work and dinner. By now, you knew he'd be back and likely waiting for you, and you still had no idea what you would say.
As the sun began to set and the world outside the infirmary grew darker, you slid your coat back on and locked the door behind you before heading for the dining hall.
Shoving your hands deep into your pockets, you tucked your chin against your chest, feet carrying you swiftly through the streets, eyes cast down and avoiding others as best you could. When you arrived at the dining hall, it was packed, per usual, but you did manage to spot Ellie and Dina holding a small table in the back of the room. As you weaved your way through the crowd, you noticed they were sharing some bread and butter and you felt your stomach rumble. For the first time in days, you felt excited to eat.
"Hey," you said in greeting as you dropped your coat over the back of an empty chair before giving them each a half hug. "Freezing out there."
"Give it a second. It's hotter than hell in here," Dina joked before pushing the basket of bread in your direction. You plopped down into your chair and moaned when you felt the bread was still warm, then tore off little pieces and popped them into your mouth.
"Hungry?" Ellie asked, only partially joking as you nodded vigorously.
"Did you order the mac and cheese yet?"
"Yeah, didn't want him to run out," she replied as she eased back into her chair and turned her head toward Dina. "Do you see Chris and Holly over there? What are they thinking? They know that shit'll get back to Claire. What a bunch of assholes."
"Who?" you asked, your voice muffled around the bread.
"Couple of kids in our class," Dina explained, nodding towards the other side of the hall. You twisted around, your eyes scanning the crowd until you saw a younger couple sitting together, the girl sitting on the guy's lap and toying with his hair. "That's Chris, and he's been dating this girl, Claire, for like, what? Six months or so? And look at him. Letting that hussy crawl all over him. Men are pigs."
You choked on your laughter and took a swig of water. If only they knew.
Ellie's eyes lit up as she looked at something behind you, and you turned around to follow her gaze, spotting Seth as he made his way through the crowd with three plates of mac and cheese. However, just over his left shoulder you happened to notice Joel for the first time since you arrived, but by the looks of it, it was not the first time he noticed you.
He was sitting at his usual table with Tommy and another guy from patrol you vaguely recognized, the other two men engrossed in conversation while Joel pinned you with his stare. You quickly turned away, your cheeks feeling flush, and tried to focus on your dinner.
"Shit, this looks amazing," you said, distracted by the cheesy, piping hot dish set in front of you.
"I'm telling you, man, it's the fucking best," Ellie told you before digging in. You had to stifle a moan when the food hit your tongue for the first time, eternally grateful for the impeccable timing because all you could think about in that moment was how good it tasted, Joel temporarily forgotten for the first time in days.
"Didn't you eat today?" Dina asked, her lips twitching into a grin, and you shook your head.
"Not really. Haven't had much of an appetite this week," you told her, and Ellie tilted her head to the side.
"Your pain was that bad?"
"Huh?" you asked, then it dawned on you once again. The Lie. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I ate a little, I just wanted to sleep, I guess."
"Joel didn't make sure you ate?" she pressed, her eyes flicking over your shoulder. You dropped your fork, scrambling to come up with yet another lie when her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, making you twist around to see what made her demeanor change so suddenly.
As you expected, she was looking in Joel's direction, but he was no longer looking at your table. It was impossible considering Angie was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view with her body, her hand resting on the back of his chair.
"What is she up to now?" Dina murmured to Ellie, but you could hardly register her words. The way your anger ignited deep within your chest and licked up your throat, it was a miracle you even remembered to breathe. Joel's legs shifted, knees turned away from her, but that was all you could see. You couldn't see the look on his face or hear what was said. You couldn't see where his hands were. But you could see Angie flick her long, straight hair over her shoulder with a flirty laugh that was clearly meant to pull attention onto her.
If you didn't have tunnel vision, you would have noticed she was successful. A few heads turned, men's eyes lingering on her backside while women's eyes darted in your direction, but you were incapable of processing any of it. Ellie was saying your name, but you couldn't hear her over the ringing in your ears.
It was less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops, and she walked away from him with a sickly grin plastered across her face, her two friends returning her mischievous smile before flanking her side, making their way towards the exit like a swarm of bees.
Without even thinking, you stood up.
"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, but you ignored her. Instead, you pushed your way through the crowd in a trance, shouldering people out of your way without so much as an apology, too laser focused on your target to care.
"Joel!" Ellie called out to him. He was rubbing his face angrily, trying to avoid his brother's eyes glaring at him in disbelief over what he just overheard Angie say when he heard Ellie. Great, she knows, too, he initially thought, but when he looked up and saw Ellie and Dina, panic-stricken, making their way towards the exit, he realized something was happening. He didn't see you until you emerged from the crowd and reached for the door, swinging it open and allowing a cool blast of air into the room before disappearing outside.
"Oh, shit," Joel mumbled, snatching his coat and forcing his way through all the people as quickly as he could. Tommy followed, confused at first, until he realized you were no longer at your table and then it clicked.
By the time you made it outside, you nearly missed where they went, but luck was on your side because her high-pitched giggle danced through the bitter cold air and you twisted your head to the left, just in time to see the three women in the shadow of night round a corner and head down a residential street.
You were nearly running to catch up with them, but you couldn't feel your feet hit the ground or hear the gravel crunching under your boots. And neither did they, because when you found yourself less than ten feet away, they were still giggling and talking animatedly amongst themselves, completely oblivious to your presence.
Skidding to a stop, you shouted, "Hey!"
All three women swirled around in surprise, their eyes wide and their smiles slipping from their faces when they sensed the rage radiating from your body. But even still, Angie tried to play dumb.
"Can we help you?" she asked sarcastically with a dry laugh, but when you took a step forward, she went quiet.
"Yeah," you sneered, fists clenching at your sides, "I had a question for you, actually."
Angie looked perplexed, not expecting that, so she held her hands out to her side, urging you to continue while Ellie and Dina caught up, standing a few paces back.
"Did you run out of dick to suck in this town or are you just that fucking bored you thought you'd give home wrecking a try?"
Dina snickered behind you and Ellie gasped.
"Home wrecking?" she replied, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Is that what you'd call your man following me into the ladies room at the bar so he could shove his tongue down my throat?"
Your nostrils flared and your ears began to make that buzzing noise again, so you dug your nails into your palms, desperately trying to ground yourself.
"Can I even call him your man?" she taunted, feeling like she got the upper hand. "Are you even together anymore? You clearly don't fuck him if he was looking for it from-"
You couldn't even remember moving. Your feet had a mind of their own as you closed the distance between you with two long strides and swung your arm back with as much force as you could muster, backhanding Angie right across the mouth.
Her hands flew up to her face and her two friends stumbled backwards in surprise, but all you saw was red. Before she could recover, you grabbed her by the coat and threw her down onto the muddy street, knocking the wind out of her with a sharp gasp. Quickly, before she could get up, you straddled her midsection. With your left hand pressing down on her chest and your right balled into a fist near your head, you landed a punch right on her perfect little nose with a sickening crunch, causing a trail of blood to trickle out of her nostrils seconds later. But that didn't stop you. You kept going, your knuckles, now bloody, marring her flesh over and over again, but when you made contact with her jawbone, you flinched, a jolt of pain shooting down your middle finger making you pause.
That was when Angie saw her opportunity.
She vaulted you off her with her hips and she rolled to her side, pinning you to the ground with blood dripping down her face. She scratched desperately at your eyes and mouth, your hands coming up to protect yourself with a yelp, before she began landing weak punches against your cheek and mouth. And even though they weren't as forceful as your hits, her weight pinning you down kept you from reclaiming the upper hand.
Ellie and Dina were shouting your name, but you tuned them out. All you could focus on was Angie, blocking her punches as best you could while you waited for your opportunity to take her down.
Then, Angie's hand wrapped around your throat, her fingers pressing into your windpipe. Your hands grabbed her wrist as you fought for air and violently thrashed underneath her.
"Face it," she hissed, leaning down and putting more pressure against your throat, "If it was that easy, I was doing you a favor. He never really loved you, you were just an easy fuck before your brain got all scrambled."
Her words were exactly what you needed to get your second wind.
With an angry roar, you punched her right in the throat, and although you couldn't get much force behind it, it was enough to make her loosen her grip in surprise. And just as Tommy and Joel were running up the street, you tossed Angie to the side and scrambled back on top of her. But this time, you didn't stop.
You were merciless, your hands were a blur. Fists rained down blows upon her face while she desperately tried to shield herself, but it was no use.
"Stop!" she sobbed, begging, but the fear in her voice just egged you on.
Blood began to stain her yellow hair, her perfect skin began to turn red and purple while your fists never stopped, each blow creating a new mark or cut. You couldn't stop if you tried. Something snapped and you unlocked a part of yourself you didn't know, or didn't remember, existed. Some part of you that was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor. And it wasn't until Joel hooked his arms underneath yours and hauled you back that you finally stopped, your chest heaving and your eyes wild.
"Y-you crazy b-bitch!" Angie sputtered, blood trickling from her nose and mouth as Tommy knelt in front of her.
"You haven't seen crazy!" you screamed as you kicked and struggled to get out of Joel's grip. Tommy reached down to help Angie up and he motioned for her friends to come forward. "Stay the fuck away from us or I'll fucking kill you!" you shouted, "You hear me, you fucking whore? I will fucking kill you!"
"Calm down!" Joel yelled from behind, but your blood boiled as you focused your rage on him.
"Get your fucking hands off me," you snarled, wrenching your arms out of his grasp. "This is your fault!" you continued, pointing your finger in his face and backing away, ignoring the tortured look he gave you. A sick part of you was pleased to see the sting of your words land.
"I think she needs to see Nick," Tommy said as both of Angie's friends struggled to help her up.
"She's lucky she's alive," you snapped as you wiped the back of your hand over your bloody face.
"Holy shit, dude," Ellie murmured as you turned around, her eyes all wide with shock.
"I'm going home," you grumbled, wiping more blood from your cheek as you began the journey back to your house on shaky legs, wondering how on earth you were expected to share a space with Joel after tonight. Dina and Ellie exchanged some quick words as you left before Ellie quickly caught up with you.
"I'll clean you up."
"You don't-"
"I know. But I want to," she said, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, and it took everything in you not to lean into her and let her drag you home.
You were exhausted. Mentally and physically. And you just wanted to go to bed. But you were grateful for Ellie. Someone who cared, someone who saw you were hurting and needed help without having to ask for it. So you let her clean you up in your bathroom when you arrived back home, her nimble fingers delicately pressing against your wounds, cleansing them as best she could before pressing band aids and butterfly bandages against your cuts and then making you an ice pack to help with the swelling.
She tucked you into bed and made you drink some water before sitting down on the edge of your mattress with a sigh.
"I had no idea," she began, and you quickly waved her off.
"I know. It's... I know," you said, at a loss for words.
"You didn't really hurt your back, did you?" she asked, and you slowly shook your head. "That motherfucker," she seethed, "I can't believe him, I'm going to kill him, I swear-"
"Just leave him alone," you told her, "Let me handle it."
The two of you sat quietly for a moment, each of you lost in your own thoughts before she spoke again.
"It wasn't like that before," she began, and at first you weren't following, but then you realized: she was talking about before your accident. "You were crazy about each other. Angie was never an issue. Neither of you paid her any attention. She just saw an opportunity and took advantage," Ellie said as her fingers tangled in her lap. "I shouldn't even be saying this, it feels like I'm defending him, but I swear. I was with you guys all the time. You were in love, man."
"Things changed, I guess," you said sadly, but she shook her head.
"You guys are what inspired me and Dina to go for it," she said softly, avoiding your gaze. "We were scared, but I saw how you two were together and how you made it work and, I don't know," she said, picking at her fingernail, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I look up to you guys. And it's kind of fucking with my head right now that all this is happening."
"Ellie, no," you said, shifting a bit in bed and reaching out to her. "Don't say that. Don't question what you and Dina have because of me and Joel."
She swallowed and looked at you, her eyes soft and worried.
"Why did he do it?" she asked quietly, and you could hear the pain in her voice. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged.
"It's complicated."
She nodded and looked away. "Will you do me a favor?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Would you give him a chance? Just hear him out and let him explain?" she begged, and you immediately bristled. "You don't have to forgive him. Just... don't give up yet. Please. He loves you, I know it, and... and I think you love him, too."
You scoffed then cleared your throat, your fingers coming up to press gently on your tender neck. "I don't love him," you croaked, but she shook her head.
"If you don't love him then why do you care so much?" she countered, and you fell silent, unable to give her an answer, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room. "Why did you almost kill Angie for sleeping with him if you didn't love him?"
"Sleeping with - no, Ellie. They didn't have sex. He kissed her," you quickly explained, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You rearranged her face because he kissed her?" she asked in disbelief, then laughed softly and stood up. "I'm not saying he didn't fuck up, but dude. Come on. You gotta see it, now, right?"
You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes.
"Alright. For you, I'll... talk to him, or whatever," you grumbled half-heartedly.
"Thank you," she said, her voice sounding more like herself once again before turning to leave and allowing you to rest. If you had any inkling she was trying to manipulate you into forgiving Joel, it was quickly expunged because you awoke an hour later to her arguing with him in the living room when he arrived home, the conversation ending with her storming out of the house and then his weary footsteps slowly climbing up the stairs.
Once again, you watched as he paused outside your room, two narrow shadows cast by his legs breaking up the thin beam of light under your door until he thought better of it and kept walking, his own bedroom door closing softly with a click.
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The pain was worse the next morning, but you refused to admit it. The cuts burned and the bruises throbbed, but you were too stubborn to let any weakness show, although one look at your bruised neck would tell anyone the truth. You forced yourself out of bed, feeling too guilty to bail on Nick after already taking so many days off to wallow in your own misery, and washed up before heading downstairs. Much to your surprise, Joel was sitting at the kitchen table, his big hand cupping a mug of coffee while he stared blankly at the wall, lost in his own thoughts. When you first saw his face, the bags under his eyes evident, even from across the room, it was clear he hardly got any sleep.
Good, you thought. Then you remembered your promise to Ellie and bit back whatever nasty remark you were getting ready to toss his way. Instead, you dragged yourself to the coffee maker, ignoring the mug Joel left out for you and choosing your own, unable to resist the urge to be just a little bit spiteful.
He cleared his throat as you poured your coffee, a warning he was about to speak, and your shoulders tensed.
"How're you feelin'?"
"About as good as I look," you muttered, bringing the coffee to your lips and taking a tiny sip before turning around. He looked up at you, for the first time seeing the extent of your injuries and he jolted forward in his chair, fighting back the instinct to stand up and inspect your wounds. He blinked rapidly, gaze skirting over your face and neck, worry etching his features until you sighed.
"It's not really that bad," you admitted, looking down at your feet.
"Tell Nick t'give you somethin' when you get to work," he said, voice strained. You nodded and took another sip of your coffee. He swallowed nervously before inching forward in his chair and clasping his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry," he said, the words laced with guilt and shame. "I'm so sorry, I fucked up. But you gotta believe me, I didn't go out that night lookin' for her or anyone else. I just wanted to drink and be alone for a little while." He rubbed his palms over his face while you still stared down at the floor, listening.
"I believe you," you finally said after a tense stretch of silence. He dropped his hands and looked up.
"You do?"
"Doesn't mean I forgive you, but I believe you didn't run out of here looking to shove your tongue down someone else's throat."
He grimaced and dropped his chin to his chest.
"D'you think-" he cut himself off and took a deep breath before forcing himself to look at you again. "D'you think you could ever forgive me?"
You closed your eyes and pressed your lips into a thin line.
"I don't know," you said quietly. Your head was pounding, so you rubbed your forehead, his eyes trained on you anxiously from across the room, knee bouncing slightly as he waited to hear you say anything that would give him a glimmer of hope. "You really fucking hurt me, Joel," you said, trying to hide your lower lip as it trembled, but he heard the pain in your voice and it broke his heart.
"I know, I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you. I never did. Not after what happened at the hospital and definitely not now," he said, standing up and taking a few hesitant steps in your direction, stopping when he reached the kitchen island. "But I'll do whatever it takes. I'll wait as long as I need to, I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you, prove to you that-"
"I don't want to lead you on, Joel," you said solemnly, eyes watering. "I can't promise I'll ever move past it. I'm not sure we're strong enough to get through this."
"Yes, we are," he told you adamantly, "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You ain't leadin' me on because I don't wanna go anywhere else. I don't care what that looks like in the future, I'll take whatever you give me, that's all I want."
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the wobble in his voice, and looked into the living room, the framed photo of your house that Ellie drew for you several Christmases ago, the same one you read about in your journal, catching your eye, and you felt yourself tear up.
I just want to go home, you thought, but home no longer existed. This was your home, like it or not.
You turned away, looking out the window over the sink blinking back tears, but Joel had already followed your gaze to the photo.
"I should get going," you said, voice thick. You chugged whatever coffee you could and dumped the rest in the sink.
"I'm gonna make it up to you," he said, following you to the door, "I'm gonna make this right." You scoffed.
"Yeah, okay," you mumbled sarcastically, shoving on your boots and coat before swinging open the door and heading out into the frigid winter morning, big flakes of snow slowly swirling and falling from the sky as Joel watched you trudge down the street, hunched over and curled in on yourself. A shell of the person he knew you to be.
He did that. He caused you pain. And it made him sick.
But at least he finally thought of a way he could prove how much you meant to him.
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Sweat covered your forehead by the time you made it to the infirmary, your wool knit cap to blame for the excessive heat pouring from your head while your face was ice cold. You yanked it off your head and shed your coat before making your way to the back, your hair sticking to your forehead. Nick was nowhere to be found, but one of the exam room doors was closed and you heard voices murmuring on the other side. Assuming he had an early patient, you pulled your hair back and got to work. It was supposed to be a quiet day. Nick wanted you to work on an updated inventory list after getting a big batch of supplies two weeks prior from an unexplored hole-in-the-wall pharmacy.
The exam room door swung open, the voices clearer now, and your shoulders stiffened when you recognized the patient. You should have assumed Angie would be there that day, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to you.
Your anger had diffused a bit since the night before, that raw, exposed nerve quelled by time, but that didn't stop you from glaring at her as she passed by the inventory closet. Her swollen eyes widened with fear when she saw you and for the first time, you got a good look at the damage you inflicted. Her nose was clearly broken, she was missing a tooth and both eyes were black and blue, but the cuts on her cheeks and lips were superficial, at best.
She kept walking, not daring to say a word in your direction as your eyes followed her out the door. When she left, Nick turned around with a sigh and crossed his arms.
"How're you feeling?"
You shrugged and turned back to your clipboard. "I'm alright."
"You look like shit," he said, sidling up next to you and plucking the ibuprofen from the shelf. He tapped out two pills and dropped them into your palm before closing the bottle, putting it back where it belonged. "Did you eat?"
With just a shake of your head you popped the pills, swallowing them dry before turning back to your task.
"You gotta eat something with those, it'll tear up your stomach," he said, disappearing down the hallway and coming back a few minutes later with an apple. You grimaced but took it anyway, unable to stop your mind from replaying the memory of peeling apples with Joel just a week prior. Before everything went to hell.
Nick watched you quietly for a moment as you chewed your apple slowly and read down the list of medications on your clipboard.
"Do you, uh," he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "do you need someone to talk to?" You glanced up at him in surprise and he dropped his hand back to his side. "We don't have to talk about it. But I know you still feel like you're a stranger in this town, and that's gotta be tough." He scratched his greying chin as he glanced around the room and you had to fight back the laugh that bubbled up your throat. You couldn't help it.
He noticed the amused look on your face at his discomfort and pretended to be annoyed when he muttered, "just come find me if you wanna talk or whatever," but you knew it was just an act. Nick was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and hardly ever spoke to his patients, let alone you, his employee, about personal matters. The fact he was trying now must mean he really thought you needed it.
The older man disappeared down the hall to his office and you smiled to yourself, then focused back on work, grateful for something that took your mind off your misery, even if it was just for a moment.
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"What the hell do you want?" Tommy scowled when he flung open his door to find his older brother waiting on the other side, hands shoved deep in his pockets, weight shifting foot to foot in an effort to keep warm.
"C'mon, Tommy, I'm gettin' it from all angles, here."
"I don't give a shit," he spat, turning on his heel to retreat back into the house, but left the front door open. Joel took a step inside and quietly shut the door behind him, glancing around the entryway and peering into the living room as he took off his outerwear.
"Maria home?"
"No, she's down at the stables with Violet. Showin' her the horses, gettin' her outta the house," he grumbled, angrily putting away dishes as he spoke. Joel sighed and flattened his palms against the counter.
"I gotta ask for a favor."
Tommy scoffed and shook his head. "You're a piece of work, y'know that?"
"Yeah, I fuckin' know. Jesus Christ, Tommy, I made one goddamn mistake!" Joel yelled, slapping his hand against the cool countertop. Tommy twisted around, brow furrowed, and crossed his arms.
"Don't take an attitude with me," Tommy said through clenched teeth, "I don't give a shit if everyone's gangin' up on you. You deserve it! I thought she was the one you wanted to spend your life with? The one you'd do anythin' for?"
"She is!" Joel exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair. Tommy's eyes softened while he watched his brother struggle, the enormity of what he did clearly taking its toll.
"Then what the fuck were you thinkin'?" he asked after a few moments, tone pleading. "Everythin' was goin' so well. You guys were havin' a nice time at the party, laughin' and smilin', we all saw it. Then you take 'er home and step out like that?"
"It's not- I was drunk and misread some things," Joel replied, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "I tried to kiss her, she shot me down and I didn't take it all that well, alright?" Joel dropped his hand, exasperated, and looked at Tommy once again, taking a deep breath. "Went to the bar to drink and Angie sunk her claws into me. I got the hell outta there and confessed the second I got home but... didn't matter," he said, hanging his head between his shoulders.
"Angie said you followed her into the bathroom, Joel. Don't bullshit me, I was sittin' right there."
"I know, Jesus, it's my fault. I was drinkin' and upset and she was just... there. Pesterin' me and pushin' my buttons. It was only a second, Tommy. Nothin' else happened, y'hear me?" Joel's eyes were wide and desperate as he stared at his little brother across the kitchen.
"It's no excuse, Joel," Tommy said sadly. Joel pushed off the counter with a huff and yanked angrily at his disheveled hair again.
"I know that. I'm just tellin' you how it went down. But I gotta make it up to her. I gotta make it right."
"How the hell do you plan on doin' that? 'Cause from where I'm sittin', only way she could move past it is if I take her back out into the woods so she can hit her head again and forget," Tommy said.
Joel rolled his eyes and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.
"I got an idea. Don't know if it'll work, but it's all I can think of to prove what she means to me," he said softly, staring down at his fingers twisting together in his lap.
Tommy sized his brother up and down before taking a few steps closer, his hands coming to grip the back of a chair as he leaned forward.
"Let's hear it."
Joel sighed and tilted his chin up. "I need a week off from patrol. I gotta leave Jackson. And I need a horse."
"What?" Tommy asked incredulously. "In the middle of winter? Absolutely not. You'll die out there."
"I survived out there before I came to Jackson, I'll be fine."
"Been a long fuckin' time and you weren't alone when you did it," Tommy argued.
"You offerin' to help?" Joel asked, and Tommy laughed dryly. But Joel continued to stare at him.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"'Course I am," Joel replied, "she ain't ever gonna forgive me but I gotta do somethin', Tommy. I can't lose her, and right now, it really feels like I'm gonna lose her." Joel's voice cracked and he turned away, looking out the window so Tommy couldn't see the emotion behind his eyes.
Tommy groaned and yanked a chair out to sit down.
"What'dya need me to do?"
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It was a long day on your feet and your face hurt more than you cared to admit, so by the time you arrived home, you decided to make yourself a sandwich and go to bed early, skipping an appearance at the dining hall where you knew half the town would be gawking at you and your wounds, anyway.
Fortunately, Joel was up in his room with the door closed when you quietly snuck upstairs with your sandwich. You were still emotionally exhausted from your brief conversation that morning and you were grateful he wasn't looking to have another one.
Nick had sent you home with one of the good pills, as he called it, so you took it with your meal and within the hour, you were out cold. Maybe if you hadn't taken the pill, you would have been awake to hear Joel's bedroom door squeak open, the rustling of fabric and the tinkling of metal cutting through the quiet hallway as he gripped his sleeping bag in one hand and his backpack stuffed with supplies in the other.
Like he usually did, he paused outside your room, his eyes lingering on the doorknob, ears straining for any sign that you were awake, that maybe you had a change of heart and he could call the whole trip off, but he was only met with silence.
He swallowed and turned towards the stairs, quietly tiptoeing down and packed another bag with food from the pantry before setting all three items by the door. At the last minute, he decided to leave a note, not even certain you would notice or care he was gone, but he knew Tommy would be furious when he found out he lied to him earlier and he really didn't want his brother to waste manpower trying to hunt him down in the wilderness. So he grabbed a pen from a drawer and an old envelope. The tip of his pen hovered over the paper as he struggled with what to say, then finally decided to keep it brief before scribbling his note, leaving it by the coffee maker where he knew you would see it.
Lastly, he strode into the living room and grabbed one more thing, shoving it into his backpack before piling on his layers and heading out the front door, giving the house one last forlorn glance before slipping quietly into the night.
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It was your day off, so naturally you allowed yourself to sleep in a little, hoping that the extra rest would help your bruises to heal. At the very least, you were pleased to discover the pain around your throat was significantly better than the day before.
You didn't hear Joel when you got up, but that was typical. He usually had early morning patrol shifts and was back by the afternoon, but when you came downstairs and saw the coffee wasn't made like it normally was, you froze. Your eyes drifted around, noticing his coat and boots were missing.
Maybe he was running behind and just didn't have time to make coffee.
As unusual as that might be, it was the only logical conclusion until you walked over to the coffee maker and saw an aged envelope sticking out of your favorite mug. You frowned and picked it up, eyes quickly scanning the words once, then three more times before the panic set in, your stomach churning worse and worse each time.
Tell Tommy I'll be back in a week.
He knows why.
No matter what, just know I love you with my whole heart, in this world or the next.
Joel
Boots unlaced and coat unzipped, you raced down the street towards Tommy's house, the envelope gripped tightly in your fist.
What the hell did that mean? Where did he go? What is he doing? And why did he sneak out without telling Tommy?
You banged on the door, the wood rattling violently under your clenched fist, only afterwards realizing you could have been waking their daughter but fortunately when the door opened, you saw Violet and Maria playing in the living room over Tommy's shoulder.
"What's goin' on, sugar? You okay?" he asked, voice filled with concern when he saw the look on your face.
"Joel's gone," you said hurriedly before pushing past him and entering the house, yanking off your hat and exchanging glances with Maria from across the room.
"Gone? What'dya mean, gone?"
"I mean I woke up today and he was gone, Tommy!" you exclaimed, handing him the note. "Where did he go?!"
You were aware your voice was panicky, that your eyes were wide with fear and your breath was fast and shallow, but you didn't care how it looked to them in that moment.
Tommy scanned the note and sighed, rubbing his forehead before urging you to join him in the living room, where he collapsed onto the sofa.
"That idiot," he murmured under his breath, handing you back the envelope.
"Where is he, Tommy?" you tried again, hoping to sound less frantic this time.
He glanced at Maria before meeting your gaze.
"He was here yesterday afternoon. Told me he needed a favor. Said he needed a week off from patrol and a horse."
"To do what?" you pressed, sinking down into an armchair next to the couch.
"He said-" he cut himself off and looked down at the note in your hand, ticking his jaw to the side as if he was contemplating how much to tell you.
"Spit it out," you demanded, and his eyes snapped back up to you.
"Said he had a plan to make things up to you. For, y'know," he waved his hand in the air, not wanting to say it. You shook your head.
"What was his plan?"
"He wouldn't tell me everything but I offered to help," Tommy admitted, glancing guiltily at Maria who shot him a surprised glare. "Said he needed to go to California, that he wanted to bring a piece of you back. I'm guessin' you're from out that way?" Tommy asked, and you nodded slowly. "He said he would wait 'til I talked to Maria and worked out the schedule but I guess he decided to fuck off-"
"Tommy!" Maria scolded sharply, covering Violet's ears, and Tommy cringed.
"Sorry," he said softly before turning back to you. "Guess he decided to lone-wolf it."
Your eyes drifted back to the note in your hand, swallowing the lump in your throat while your mind raced to catch up.
"What if he doesn't make it?" you asked, eyes still glued to the envelope, "what if he dies out there and it's all my fault?"
They heard your voice waver and exchanged sympathetic looks.
"He made a choice, he knew the risks," Maria said, "but he's a capable guy. If there were anybody who could make it out there alone, it's Joel."
"Listen, I'd send a couple guys out there lookin' for him but there's a storm brewin'," Tommy said, rubbing his chin and glancing out the window. "Been watchin' those clouds build up over the mountains all week. Told Joel as much and he agreed to wait but reckon he changed his mind and wanted to get in front of it."
"Or it was his plan all along to leave alone and he just made sure no one would come after him," Maria said, making the three of you fall quiet.
"God, what do I do?" you murmured, burying your face in your hands.
Tommy glanced at Maria and she subtly nodded towards the kitchen. He stood and cleared his throat before reaching his arms out towards his daughter.
"C'mere, let's get you somethin' to eat before naptime," he said, lifting Violet and taking her into the kitchen to give you both some privacy.
"What's going on?" Maria asked softly as she sat down in Tommy's place on the couch. You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap.
"I don't know," you said truthfully, "I'm so fucking angry at him, but..."
Maria pursed her lips knowingly. "But you still care."
You groaned and leaned back into the chair. "Yes."
"It's not like you're telling me or anyone else something we didn't already know," she said, "not after what happened with you and Angie in the middle of the street. I mean, look at you," she pointed to your bruised neck. "No one fights like that for someone they don't love."
"I don't love him," you said sternly, eyes flashing angrily in her direction. "You sound like Ellie."
"Okay, so if two people are telling you-"
"I don't want to talk about it right now," you abruptly stood up, brushing your palms on your jeans. "Sorry to barge in like this. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm actually looking forward to a week of quiet," you tried to say confidently despite how tight your throat felt as you headed towards the door.
Maria called your name as she trailed after you, urging you to stay and talk, but you just pressed your lips together and shook your head.
"Seriously, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile across your face. "I have some stuff to do so I'll see you guys at dinner or something."
Before she or Tommy could say anything else, you slipped out the door and rushed down the street, back towards home.
It wasn't until later that afternoon, after you had scrubbed clean the kitchen and bathrooms, doing anything and everything you could to stay busy, that you noticed the missing picture from the wall in the living room.
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retroellie · 5 months
Note
Daryl x reader but at first she gets on his nerves? Almost enemies to lovers
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Summary: Daryl hated you, completely despised you. His hatred for you turned into something more after just one night with you.
A/N: This is probably the filthiest and longest thing I've ever written :). So enjoy asf!!! This was literally hell to write because i have writer's block right now so my mind is somewhere else right now
Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Slapping/spanking, Daryl just being mean asf. Kind of a toxic relationship?!?
Word count: 8K
Daryl was at peace in this moment, complete and utter peace. The river slowly rushing against the earth, the soft wind blowing against his skin, the bright light of the sun bursting the stress from his face. Ever since he had gotten away from Alexandria he felt he was where he belonged, nature. Ever since he was a kid, rivers and forests were his safe haven. The only living thing to be seen was the animals and even then they were fearful of humans.
That's how Daryl felt in a way, fearful of humans and what they can do, that's why he resided with animals. They had their packs and stayed with them, never getting too close to other packs. It was just him and his home, of course with the dog too. But despite the healing of the river or the wind whispering into his ear, this wound could never be healed for Daryl. He was out here for a reason and this time it wasn't trying to run away from his dad.
It was for Rick, his friend, his family.... his brother. This was a deeper wound than any he'd ever had, mental or physical. He was angry, hurt, and guilty for what he had done, especially with the silence that came with nature. He looked for days on end, and those days turned to months, and months turned to years. He felt like he was going crazy, but he knew Rick was still alive and if he wasn't... he just needed to give the people that confirmation.
He took the knife and gutted it into the fish, cleaning it out until it was just the meat on its bones. It was a chilly day, enough to have the dog cuddled up on Daryl's leg as he gutted the fish. Daryl didn't mind the cold, he actually liked it better than the heat and it kept the dead away better. He continued his work, frying the fish on the fire as he poked at it softly, mesmerized by the crackles of the fire.
Suddenly a branch snapped behind Daryl, he didn't hesitate in pulling his crossbow from next to him and pointing it at the sound, ready to fire at any minute. He almost squeezed the trigger, almost letting the arrow go right into the head of his attacker. But suddenly his eyes made out who it was and realized it was you. His body feels relaxed but only to be filled with annoyance.
"It's just me!" You put your hands up in surrender, dropping what you had been holding in your hands.
Daryl watched as you shook, fearing that Daryl might actually shoot you at that moment. Daryl sighed, putting down his crossbow and rolling his eyes.
"Damn it, girl! I coulda killed you!" Daryl yelled. Of course, the first time he talks in days is to scold you for something.
Daryl sat back down in his spot, throwing down his crossbow in anger as he went back to cooking his fish. He suddenly wished he would've pulled the trigger, maybe then he could tell everyone it was an accident.... as if anyone could miss you. If Daryl said he hated you, it was an understatement. He despised you, he wondered how you survived this long without a bullet to your head.
"I know... I'm sorry.." You tried to defend yourself. "Carol asked me to drop some stuff off... I didn't mean to scare you.."
You bent down to gather what you had in your hands, the bag you had broken when you dropped it. You shoved everything in the bag and stood up, standing still as you watched Daryl cook his fish. You never knew why Daryl couldn't stand you, it made you a bit sad at first because you envied him. You thought he was the coolest person ever, with his crossbow and his motorcycle. Part of you thought it was because you genuinely thought he was a cool person but the other half knew it was because of what he did to your underwear.
"Carol told me to bring you more arrows and some extra clothes... I threw some food...." You went to finish but Daryl was annoyed by your voice already, wanting you to shut up and leave already.
"Why couldn't she do it?" He interrupted
You forgot how much of an asshole he was and at that moment, you were kind of glad he was staying out here instead of in Alexandria. The only reason you liked him staying at Alexandria is how his arms looked when he was working on his bike... but that's all it was to you, just a silly little crush or not even that, you'd be more than okay if he fucked you and dipped. You cleared your throat, collected your words, and shifted uncomfortably.
"Oh well... Henry is sick, he has some kind of stomach bug and well I was at the kingdom so she asked if I could bring it to you on the w..." Once again you can't even get your words out without Daryl being a complete dick to you.
"I didn't ask for a story." He said sternly, not even looking at you but you knew his face had that ugly, yet strangely arousing, annoyed look written all over it.
You sharply inhaled, slightly hurt at his words. You just stood there though, not sure what to do next. You could just throw his shit down or not and leave, but unfortunately, you were too tired to go on. You had been walking all day and here to Alexandria would be at least another 3 hours. You just thought maybe some rest would be nice, maybe a bit of that fish he was cooking but you knew Daryl.
Daryl hadn't liked you ever since you two had met, he was always such a dick to you and you had no idea why literally no idea. You were always respectful to him, saying please and thank you, sometimes shooting him a soft smile when you would catch each other in the same room. He always put you down so fast, sometimes just his facial expression when he would look at you was enough for you to go home crying.
"You can leave now, you did your job." He pulled you out of your thoughts.
His eyes still didn't reveal themselves to you, but you knew the stank eye he'd be giving you right now. The thought of it just made your stomach do turns, but the thing you were about to ask made it drop completely.
"That's the thing... you know it's getting late, by the time I get back on the main roads it'll be pitch black, and well I've been walking all..." You don't even know why you keep trying to explain anything to him at this point.
"Get to the point.." He said, annoyance dripping from his mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, standing up straight so you could at least look like you were not about to cry or throw a tantrum.
"I was wondering if I could stay here for the night... I'll be out of your hair by dawn tomorrow." You pleaded almost, which made you cringe a bit.
Daryl stayed silent for a minute, just poking at the fire softly as he rubbed the dog's head. Daryl almost gagged at the thought of you staying with him, even just for a night. It reminded him of when you guys were on the road together with everyone else, you always ended up sleeping next to him and he hated it. You would take up such a little room but Daryl felt like that was more than you needed, he would huff and puff. Not to mention how tight his pants would get when we saw you in only a tank top, how your breasts would push themselves together as you snored softly. How your pretty lips would part themselves, almost as if you were teasing him even in your sleep.
Daryl thought for a minute, he really didn't want you here. Your presence would just be so irritating to Daryl, he would know you were only 2 feet away from him at all times and that frustrated Daryl. You would be prancing around his safe space, breast sticking out, voice laced with sugar as you spoke, and presenting your ass to Daryl while you picked something up. The thought made Daryl go cold and he wanted to kick you out then and there. Call Daryl old-fashioned but he was against kicking out a young girl for safety just because of one's annoyance.
"Ya, you will be..." Daryl stated, standing up and making his way over to you, snatching the bag from your hand. "You can stay for the night... but you're gonna have to give me your weapons for the night and you owe me half of your food."
Fucking asshole... is all you could think of. You hated him, so fucking much it hurt. You have no idea what you had done to this man to make him hate you so much, it doesn't make sense to you but you needed some rest. You handed him your bag and watched him sit back down in the same spot, digging into the bag Carol had packed.
"Thank you, Daryl. I ap..." You decided at this moment to stop trying to speak.
"And no talking... I don't want to hear anything you gotta say, ya hear me?" He scolded, containing his digging into the bag.
"yes sir..." You bit back, trying your best not to start yelling at him about how childish he was being.
You brushed past Daryl to get some water from the river so you could get away from Daryl. Daryl's dick twitched at your use of "sir", he couldn't help the goosebumps that rose from his skin. He watched you walk your way down to the river, watching your tits bounce as you stormed off. He hated you with a burning passion but he couldn't deny that you had beautiful tits.
-
-
You couldn't sleep, you were so tired before you went to this shit show of a camp but now you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned, the tent walls feeling like they were going to close on you. You could hear Daryl poking at the fire outside, trying to keep it burning as he kept an eye out. Daryl made you take the tent, he said he'd sleep outside with the dog, and that bothered you a bit.
Daryl was always so mean to you, literally telling you he wished you would fall off a cliff yet he gives you the tent? Maybe you were reading too deep into it, trying everything to believe your lie that he had an ounce of care for you in him. But that was odd behavior for someone like Daryl, especially towards you. That's why you think you can't sleep, not only did Daryl make you want to bawl your eyes out with how mean he was but also you were so confused about your own feelings.
You wanted to hate Daryl, you said you did but really you didn't. Every mean thing he said to you should've been enough for anyone to hate another person, but you simply couldn't. You wanted him to like you, you craved it. Every time you tried to be nice or help him with something, you felt like a teenage girl trying to get the attention of a boy. It was exhausting, but so frustrating. This behavior of his only created a fire in your belly, leaking out of your core.
The frustration of the day could only be dulled in one way, the warmth of your two fingers. It was a nightly ritual at this point, I mean at least Daryl's behavior is beneficial in one way right? But you couldn't do it in this tent that felt so suffocating, with Daryl's scent everywhere and his soft blanket against your bare thighs. No, you couldn't. It was gross, almost disgusting to do such a thing, especially for you.
You finally gave up on sleep, pulling your shorts back on and heading out of the tent. The wind hit you first, then the smoke of the fire, and then the eyes of Daryl. He looked already so annoyed, like just your presence was enough for him to be in a shitty mood. You smiled at him, pulling your jacket closer to your body as you sat down on the log in front of him.
"Couldn't sleep..." You whispered, sighing as you looked deep into other fires.
Daryl didn't make an expression towards that, only the same annoyed expression. Daryl couldn't help but watch your thighs out of the corner of his eye, watching them glow in the fire, making them look completely delicious. He tried to focus on keeping the fire alive but the hardening in his pants was almost impossible to ignore. He's never really had alone time with you, not one on one before, there was always another person so this was new to him. Honestly even more annoying like this because he could only imagine fucking you into the dirty ground, not able to escape these thoughts by annoying someone else.
"And why's that my problem?" He snapped back, his voice thick with tiredness and frustration.
You scoffed, looking at him with disbelief as your heart broke a little more. You were now at peak frustration and extremely exhausted, so you weren't going to just sit there and let it happen... not this time. You shook with anger, the wind doing nothing to cool you down. You just wanted to have a nice conversation with him, social interaction that you desperately needed from a day of being consumed by your own thoughts.
"You are such a dick you know that?" You spit out, your arms throwing themselves up as you let your anger out finally. "Jesus! I can't have one fucking conversation without you being such an asshole."
Daryl's blood goes cold, looking over at you as your eyes start tearing up due to your anger. He's never seen you so angry, he's never known that you cry when you get mad, he finds it... attractive. It makes his mind wander to what else makes you cry. Is there any emotion you feel too much? Do you cry? Or is this situation just that distressing to you? Daryl just stayed silent, finding it almost humorous how you actually cared what he thought and how worked up you were getting over it. You waited for a snarky reply or a cold comment about how annoying you were, but you were met with his cold blue eyes boring into your skin. That was it, that was enough to make you decide to pack up your stuff and get the hell out of there.
"Oh my fucking god... fuck you, Daryl, I mean seriously." You shot up from where you had been sitting and stood above him, the fire illuminating your furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes. "I mean are you fucking kidding me?!? why do you hate me? did I do something or are you just that fucking mean?"
Daryl stared up at you, watching you shiver as the wind hit your bare legs. Daryl asked himself that a lot too, why did he hate you? You really did do nothing to him, you were honestly extremely helpful and probably the kindest person he'd ever met. But that made him so upset. The innocence that radiated off of you, the pureness in your eyes, almost as if the world hadn't gotten to you yet. He found it unfair, how you were who you were in this world, it wasn't fair. The annoying sweetness that coated your voice was enough for him to go insane, he hated it.
That was only part of the hatred he felt for you, he wanted to completely defile you. He wanted to take that innocent little act of yours and fuck it out of you, he wanted to shut your silky soft voice up by fucking your voice box so hard it leave you speechless, wanted to crave scars into your skin as you begged him for more. He found these thoughts truly disgusting to even think, his own mind scolding him for letting the thoughts linger. He hated you for making him this crazy, making him so hard at night he couldn't be satisfied with his own hand he had to have you... so now he sat there looking up at you, watching as tears filled your eyes and your bare thighs were exposed.
Daryl grinned at your reaction, slowly standing up so he was towering over you. You looked scared, eyes filled with worry now as he made his way over to you. He was face to face with you now, you could feel his breath on his face and his eyes full of something... it wasn't anger, wasn't sadness, something in between yet not anywhere near.
"Ya' know, I do hate you Y/N" He says simply, making your bottom lip tremble as your tears finally escape your eyes. You knew it but it still hurt. "Ya' wanna know why or are you going to cry like the little bitch you are?"
His words took you back, this was a new all-time low for Daryl but for some reason, his words flew straight to your core and you had to press your legs together to ignore it. You stayed silent, not really knowing if you wanted to know or not but you had a feeling you had no choice. Daryl was going to tell you and all you could do was listen. You're breath hitched, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you watch him go to speak.
"I think yer stupid, and annoying, and a fucking worthless bitch who shouldn't have made it this far." His words shot bullet holes in your heart. "We shoulda left you where we found you. Ya bring no good into this group, you only hold us back."
You let out a sob, your heart quite literally being torn apart but you were still so needy all at once. You were used to mean, you were used to hurt but this felt nowhere close to what you've experienced before. You had gotten more frustrated simply because you still liked Daryl, you honestly would give anything for him to kiss you and it made your lips burn with need. It felt like your head was going to explode, being degraded and loving every second of it was something you never thought you would be thinking at this moment.
"Ya wanna know something else..." Daryl whispered, taking his hand and pushing your hair back out of your face as tears streamed down your face. He then lifted your chin to force you to look at him. "It's annoying how you act all innocent... prancing around in short shorts with your tits hanging out, acting like you aren't just trying to get fucked."
You look into his blue eyes, trembling as you feel his hand placed on your chin. You didn't realize how close you had gotten to him, how your body was almost pressed against his as he degraded you. You let a couple of soft whimpers out, feeling as Daryl wiped a tear away from your eye as he bites his lip.
"Ain't that right hm? All ya ever really wanted was to get fucked, just wanted to be used?" He spit out, you let out a soft moan as he continued to rest his hand on your chin, his heat filling your body. "want me to fuck ya?"
Your eyes widened, feeling like you were in a dream and you would wake up at any moment. You looked between his eyes and mouth as he spoke, his lips feeling like the only thing that could dull this heat inside of you. You nodded softly, biting your lip as you watched his mouth grow into a smirk. You expected him to place a soft kiss on your lips as he bent down to connect your lips, but you were met with a sharp pain in your left cheek. You gasped, not knowing what happened but then realized Daryl had smacked you. He didn't smack you too hard but it was enough to leave you in shock.
"wh..." You went to say but Daryl grabbed your throat roughly, it was a firm grip but not enough to hurt you.
"Use yer words... or are you too dumb for that?" He spits out, his words making your legs wobble slightly.
You felt lightheaded, you felt dizzy, you felt completely content in where you were right now. It was a crazy feeling, a feeling that was so intense it made you want to cry. You sniffled, clearing your throat so you could respond but the words were stuck in your throat. Daryl's eyes looked down on you with impatience, his teeth softly clenched as he waited for your words, the words he knew were hard for you to say.
"I...umm" You stuttered, lips quivering. "I want you.. to fuck me" You stated
Sex was new to you still, especially now since sex was the last thing on your mind half the time. This kind of sex, however, rough and mean sex was completely new to you. You weren't sure what to do or how to do it, do you mean back or do you just let it happen and enjoy the ride? You trusted Daryl though, no matter how mean he was to you, you still knew he wouldn't hurt you. Daryl smirked down at you, his rough hand still grasping onto your soft neck.
Daryl only knew hard sex, he'd never been in love or wanted to be in love so he was going to fuck you the only way he knew. He bent down to your lips, softly lingering above yours. You tried to reach up and touch his lips to yours but his hand on your neck kept you in place. Instead, he placed his lips on your nose, then your forehead then everywhere on your face but your lips. You were melting, just one kiss and you would be happy... you begged for just one kiss.
"How 'bout ya get in the tent hm?" He finally said after teasing you with his lips. "I'll be in, in a minute."
Daryl smirked down at you, letting go of your neck which was the only thing supporting your body right now. You looked surprised but also irritated as he teased you and not made you get into the tent. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stomped into the tent. Daryl chuckled as you pouted, watching you stomp your feet to the tent. Daryl turned around and finished his fire poking, keeping it heated, making you wait.
You were pouting in the tent, arms crossed as you waited for him to come in. You couldn't sit still, you pressed your thighs together and tried to touch yourself through your jeans but nothing helped the ache. You were suddenly so hot, feeling like your skin was melting off in the small tent so you decided to take your shirt off and let the cool air consume it. You slowly started to tear each of your clothes off until you were only in your underwear and bra, you were about to take your bra off but Daryl had ripped through the tent and saw you. He was taken aback as he saw your bare body, not expecting it and it made him crazy.
You sat there like a deer in headlights as he stared down at you, hands suddenly laying at your thighs as you were just on your knees. Daryl's hand shook, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you already but he wanted to wait... he needed to wait. He got down on your level, the tent too small for him to stand in. He reached his hand out to your shoulder, placing his hand on it and slowly pulling down your bra strap. His touch made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin as he slowly undressed you or undressed what you had on still.
"You might be dumb..." He stated, bring his lips to your neck. "But you sure are fucking sexy..."
He then attacked your neck, giving you sloppy kisses on your skin as you softly moaned at his action. His other hand placed on your older shoulder and ripped your other bra strap down, attacking that side of your neck next. Your hands wandered his body, trying to pull him closer to you as you wanted him to touch you further. His soft lips sucked on your sensitive skin, making you squirm underneath his grasp.
"mm.. fuck.." You moaned out, causing Daryl to go crazy. He couldn't hold back himself anymore, he couldn't tease you or degrade you anymore. He needed you.
"Fuck it..." Daryl said, stopping his movements and lying down on his back.
You watched him wide as, watching as he pulled his pants down to his ankles and how his cock sprang out freely. Your mouth watered almost, wanting nothing more than to such him off and watch him unravel on your tongue. Daryl rubbed himself a bit, trying to have some friction while he waited for you. You forgot what you were doing at first, you're mind completely going blank as you watched him touch himself.
You were slightly worried, Daryl was big... a lot bigger than you thought he would be. You felt a bit nervous about how’d he fit, you were quite small, well at least a lot smaller than Daryl. Daryl continued rubbing himself up and down, watching you shiver at the thought of him being inside you. He could see how nervous you had gotten, how shy you had suddenly become as your thighs squeezed together.
"You okay?" He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to his blue eyes. "We can stop, pretend this didn't happen." He reassures, placing a hand on your arm comfortably.
You gave him a small smile, moving your body on top of his. You replaced his hand with your own as you slowly jerked him off, watching his mouth part open in surprise as you did so. Your sudden confidence was a huge turn-on for Daryl, causing him to become unbelievably hard under your grasp. This is what Daryl wanted from you, he wanted you to stop acting innocent and take what you wanted. You were meek and shy, you simply doing this was so out of character.
"You want me to stop?" You ask, watching Daryl grow harder as you stroked his cock up and down.
Daryl shot you a soft smile, pulling you down to connect your lips to his. It was hard, rough, and filled with passion. The feeling of your hand on his cock, the taste of your lips, and the feeling of your weight on top of him. He needed you, needed to see you bouncing on top of him as he ripped you open. He wanted to see the pain and pleasure wash over you until you went as crazy as he is at this moment, he would give the world just to see it.
"Fuck no... god..." He moaned out, as your hand's pace picked up. "Ride my cock sweet girl... wanna see how dirty you can get." He teased me.
You giggled at his words, but they went all to your core at once. A wave of slick escaped your cunt, dripping over Daryl's thighs. You gave into his needs, but you did it ever so carefully. You moved your waist to hover over his throbbing cock, his tip ever so slightly rubbing between your slit. You teased him slightly, almost putting his tip inside you but slipping it out once again. You could tell he was growing frustrated, you can see him hold back his urge to push you down on his cock. You could get off on this, his head softly massaging your cunt and his thrust up when it had reached your clit. You continued this movement, teasing him softly but in reality, it felt too good for you.
"Gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep it up..." He moaned out, moving his hands to your hips. His hands helped you move your body back and forth, the head of his cock nuzzling between your slits.
"feels so good..." You whisper, biting your lip softly. "The least you can do for being an a..." You forgot who you were with, the person who never lets you finish your sentence.
You were cut off by Daryl taking your hips, pushing them down until his cock was damn near bottomed out inside you. You let out a gasp, hunching over so your nails were dug into his chest. It hurt, it felt like you were being ripped open... but it sent a strange pain throughout your body. Inside of rejecting his cock, your body welcomed it, almost as if it's what you needed this entire time. You shook slightly, the head of his cock already hitting your g spot as you stayed still. Your body was still getting used to it, but every bone of your body craved you to move your hips. Daryl chuckled softly as your eyes prickled with tears and your string of curses filled the tent.
"Told ya... dumb slut never listens" Daryl spit out, sitting up so your hands could balance on his shoulders.
He didn't give you time to say anything else, he took it upon himself to help you get used to him. He thrusted his hips up, creating more pain/pleasure that coursed through your body. It was a delicious stink, creating screams like moans that flowed off your tongue. His hips started off slow, obviously not that much of an asshole to completely overwhelm your senses. He placed one hand on our waist, going between hard thrusts and rolling his hips to try to ease the sting.
After a few thrusts though, you get used to his cock stuffing your cunt and you feel yourself getting eager. You start to move your hips a little with his, your hips going against his own hips because you were so cock hungry you couldn't help yourself. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving moon-shaped cuts along them. Your head threw itself back, letting Daryl fuck you harshly as you just enjoyed the ride. You would be surprised if your moans didn't attract walkers or raiders... they were almost screams at this point.
"Gonna fuck the dumb slut out of you... huh?" He started, moving his hand up to your hair and pulling it down to look at him. "Ain't that right... gonna fuck this pussy until that stupid little brain of yours start working.."
His hand in your hair forced you to look at him, his eyes blown out as he fucked your cunt so harshly, you couldn't help but drool. You shook slightly, something inside you snapped as you watched him huff and puff. Your hips suddenly had a mind of their own, they start rolling against his roughly, your eyes on his the entire time as you fuck yourself on his cock. You couldn't help it, your stomach burned and your cunt ached as you so badly wanted to get off. Your thrusts were rough, overpowering daryls at this point.
Daryl was taken back by this action, his hips starting to slow down as you created your own pace and your own way of fucking him. Daryl's hands rested on your hips though, helping you set a pace that felt good for the both of you but also let you take complete control. He never knew how pretty you could be, I mean of course he thought you were hot as fuck but he would never describe you as pretty... until now. The way you took him deep inside of you, the way your cunt clenched around him... maybe those were factors of why his view of you changed but maybe it went further than that.
Your thighs burned, your cunt ached, and your frustration grew. You so desperately wanted to get off, so your thrust was all over the place. You would start harder and deeper then your stamina would weaken, your thrusts turning slow and drawn out. It felt like it was happening on a loop, your frustration getting the best of you. Daryl's hands do a decent job setting your pace, but not enough to actually do anything. Daryl enjoyed this though, watching your frustration grow as you greedily tried to get off.
"Fuck... Daryl..." You groaned out, you couldn't even form words at this point. His cock hitting so deep inside you, it affects your speech. "please... I can't..."
Daryl grinned, hearing your pleas but basking in them. He brushed your hair from your face, loving the sight of your tears flowing down your face due to frustration and pleasure. He watched as you glistened in the moonlight, your skin beet red and your body soaked with sweat. Your hips slowed, still rocking back and forth but the pain in your hips felt unbearable now. You gave Daryl a pleading look, hoping he'd just be nice to you and give you what you wanted.
Daryl wasn't nice though, you knew this when you came into this. Daryl had disgusting things in mind for you, things that would leave you bruised and bloody. Daryl didn't know what nice was, especially when it came to fucking a "dumb slut". You fluttered your eyes at Daryl, your eyes telling him everything you wanted from him.
"What?" He asked, acting completely oblivious to what you wanted. "Can the dumb slut not get herself off? hmm..." He teased me.
You gulped down a comeback, afraid if you do he won't give you what you want. Daryl grinned, taking the hand in your hair and slowly moving it to your throat until it was wrapped around it. He gripped it hard, bringing your face down to meet him as he applied pressure to it.
"You are really that fucking stupid huh... Jesus christ." He spit out, watching you squirm above him, his cock still nestled deep inside you. "Fucking useless.."
You loved every second of his torment, of his degradation, of his anger. In one swift moment, Daryl threw you down onto the rough tent floor. You moaned softly, his cock being yanked out of your mouth and leaving you empty. Daryl wasn't done, he grabbed you roughly and set you on your hands and knees.
"I gotta do everything for you... too fucking stupid to do anything for yourself." He said, pushing your back down as he held your ass up. "Can't even ride a fucking cock right..."
Daryl rubbed your ass gently, watching you grip the blanket that was laid down for a makeshift bed. He dragged his fingers down your slit, feeling your throbbing cunt but dragging them back up to your ass. He could get off right now, cumming all over your back and drenching you with cum, seeing you like this just did that to him. He laid his hand flat down on your ass, putting it back high and then slamming it down on your bare ass.
You gasped, being shot forward as he spanked you. You weren't expecting it, the pain of the smack shooting through your veins and suddenly you wanted him to do it again. Never in your sexual life have you ever been spanked or slapped or degraded, it was something you could get used to. Daryl placed his hand on the red print on your ass, rubbing it softly as he watched your reaction to it. He knew it was foreign to you and he wanted to make sure you didn't have any objections to what he was doing. He leaned down slowly, kissing behind your ear and whispering into your ear.
"Are ya' still okay? We can stop now..." He wanted to hurt you but in the most pleasant and consensual way.
You took a minute to get a response, not because you had any second thoughts about what was happening. No, the silence was because you knew this would change you forever. This wouldn't just be a crush anymore, it would be more real. Even if Daryl just wanted a quick fuck, you would look at him differently whether you wanted to or not. If he did just want a quick fuck, you would feel as though you have been led on... because you did like him, and if that's all he wanted then it would break your heart. You look up at Daryl, watching as he gives you soft kisses on your back and neck. Fuck it...
"Again...." You whispered out, his eyes surprised you even said anything. He thought he was being too much, that he was going too far. He had no idea you were enjoying this as much as he did...
You felt too good right now for him to stop now, your stomach completely tensed up and your cunt fluttered around nothing. You needed him in the most disgusting way possible Daryl didn't see a single twinkle of doubt in your eyes, you knew what you wanted and you wanted him to give it to you. Daryl smiled at you, not a shit-eating grin or that stupid smirk... an actual smile.
Daryl raised the hand on your ass again, bringing it down roughly on your ass. You shot forward again, feeling your cunt tighten around nothing once more. Daryl waited once again for you to come back to him before he did it once more. The smacks got faster and harder, each one sending more amounts of pleasure through your body and bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans only fueled the fire in the diary, wanting nothing more than to completely destroy you.
After a couple more smacks, Daryl lined himself up behind you. This time he would be a bit nicer, slowly inching himself in and letting your tight cunt adjust to him. He watched your mouth open slightly, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping onto anything they could find. Daryl rubbed your back with his free hand, slowly pushing himself into you until he was completely inside of you. Each inch you took made your eyes roll into your eyes and your toes curl.
Daryl started his thrusts slowly, watched you come undone on his cock already and he was just getting started. He watched as the coil in your stomach snapped and felt it when your walls fluttered around him, your liquid coating his cock. He fucked you through your first orgasm, picking up his pace when you couldn't feel your cunt flutter around his cock anymore. Daryl was Edgar to cum but also to make you cum over and over until you couldn't say anything else but his name.
"Fuck... such a tight fucking pussy..." He moaned out, grabbing your hips and shoving them down on his cock. "Could fuck this thing all day.... use you like my own fucktoy."
You could feel another wave of pleasure hit you, the coil in your stomach tightening once again. Daryl was rough with his thrust now, shoving himself into you before pulling all the way back and then slamming back in. It felt so good, making your entire body feel like it was on fire in the most pleasant way. Suddenly, not even 2 minutes after your first orgasm... You felt the coil snap once again, soaking Daryl's cock for a second time.
Daryl didn't slow down, just went harder as you screamed out as you came... hard. He gripped your hips roughly, leaving bruises on them most likely. You went completely limp, allowing him to use you exactly in the way he wanted to. You were exhausted, after two orgasms only minutes away from each other and working on your third one...You were completely worn out and wanting nothing more than another orgasm. Daryl watched you go limp, your ass having to be held up by him now.
"Come on baby...." He moaned, grabbing your arms and pulling you flush against him. "Gonna make me cum... gonna cum all over that fucking pretty ass of yours..."
His words only make your cunt tighten around his cock. You were standing on your knees in front of him, your knees digging into the tent floor as your head leaned back on his shoulder. You looked up at him with tired eyes, face bright red and your eyes leaking tears. You watched his face contort every time he thrusted, his lip being brought between his teeth and his eyes fluttering closed. He was beautiful, every muscle of his stomach placed on your back, his cock deep inside you, and his face looked to be sculpted by gods themselves.
Daryl's moans got louder, his cock twitched slightly and you could feel he was close just by the way he gripped onto your arms. You tried your best to fuck yourself back onto him as his thrusts became sloppy, wanting to fuck him through his own orgasm. Daryl was so close, his bruising grip on your arms as he pulled you closer and closer to him. You were right there next to him, your third orgasm already coursing through your stomach as you so desperately tried to help get you both off.
"daryl..." was the only thing you could get out, the other dirty words you had in mind getting lost in your throat as a particularly harsh thrust caused the coil in your stomach to burst open.
You shook violently as you came once again on his cock but you could only enjoy it for only seconds before Daryl let go of your arms, causing you to fall harshly onto the tent floor. You groaned, your orgasm still coursing through your body as you felt the ache of being dropped on the floor. You looked back to see why Daryl had done what he did, seeing that he was stroking his cock roughly. You watched as he came on your ass and back, his O face looking like something from your dreams.
You couldn't be mad now, not that you were able to see him in his high. When he finished covering you in his cum, he collapsed next to you. He breathed heavily as if he had just run a marathon and all you could do was watch him in awe. You would touch yourself to the thought of him, but nothing could've prepared you for how pretty he looked while doing it. He was on another planet at this moment, not even in this world as he recovered from his orgasm.
"fuck..." He said, his voice raspy and thick with exhaustion. "You're gonna be a problem..."
Daryl knew he shouldn't have done this, he should've just let you leave.... he should've just told you to leave in the first place. He knew once he had you vulnerable, ass up and ready for him to fuck you... he wouldn't be able to resist. He knew you'd become like a drug to him, he wanted to continue to hate you and live both of your lives separately, away from each other. There was just something about you, something about you that not only made his cock twitch but his heart. He always had a soft spot for you, he hated it.
You were still on your knees, back covered in his cum and the top half of you smushed against the ground. You just watched him come down from his high, not responding to him as he slowly came to his senses. Daryl looks back over at you, seeing you in a very uncomfortable position and sticky...
"Here..." He said, sitting up and finding a discarded rag that was always in his tent.
You slowly sat up on your knees, taking the rag he had handed to you. You smiled, nodding softly as to thank him simply because your voice box was damn near broken from screaming. You reached behind you, taking the rag and wiping him off of you. Daryl started getting some blankets together to make a bed for the both of you, hoping that wasn't crossing a line for you... as if he didn't just fuck the shit out of you. You struggled to get the entirety of your back, Daryl noticed this as he was setting down blankets.
Without saying a word, Daryl took the rag from you and gently wiped your back off. You hummed softly as he did so, the warmth of his hands making you feel giddy once again. You wanted to say something, anything just to get him talking again. His voice always makes you feel right at home, even if most of the time he was a dickhead to you.
"You know.." You said, voice coming out as a whisper. "I've never done something like this before..."
You looked back at him, his eyes focused on your back as he tried to make sure you were cleaned all the way off. Daryl knew, he knew you were the innocent type, that's why he was so intrigued with you. He smirked softly up at you, seeing how messy your hair was and how your tears were now stained on your face created a deep lust inside of him.
"I know..." He responded, going back to cleaning your back.
"You know?" You asked, knowing you looked innocent but how could he tell you haven't been railed like this before?
Daryl chuckled softly, throwing the rag somewhere in the room when he was done and then smacking your thigh softly to tell you to move yourself. You did what he wanted, sitting on your butt as you watched what he wanted you to do next. Daryl bit his lip, tossing you one of his shirts that was going to be big on you. You assumed he wanted it for you.
"You never do what you're told... Lay down." He started, watching you lay down like he told you to do. He smirked softly before continuing. "and you have only been with skinny 20-year-olds who probably went to some college for rich assholes.."
Daryl pulls his own clothes on before lying down next to you. He wrapped a blanket around the two of you, letting you lay on his chest as he did so. What Daryl was saying was very true, you had never been with a man his age or really any man that acted like him. You weren't the adventurous type, you were okay with vanilla sex and scheduled quickies. It was easy that way, easier to explain the age gap, and easier to digest the PDA. You didn't know if you could go back to that now, after 3 mind-blowing orgasms and the delicious size of Daryl... you could see yourself chasing this for the rest of your life.
"Maybe... I'd like to... uh..." You started, sighing softly. "I'd like to do this again though... I think I want to do it with you many times."
Your words felt jumbled, not making any sense. Daryl knew though, he knew what you were saying even if your words felt confusing. Daryl rubbed your arm softly with his thumb, thinking about what a life with you would be like. Waking up every day to a naked young woman in his bed, soft skin, and doe eyes for the rest of his existence with you... Even if he could only have you in the bedroom, he would move the sun and stars just for it. He nodded softly, looking back down at you as you lulled yourself to sleep on his chest.
"Yeah... think I'd like that too," he whispered. 
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semisolidmind · 2 months
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What happens when they outlive angel? Since poppy was first created in the 50’s it seems like being preserved as toys has granted them longer lifespans if not technical immortality, so angel aging is going to become a problem sooner or later, and I’m kinda wondering what happens when the inevitable comes. I made myself sad thinking about this and now all of you will be too, suffer with me
(i was thinking about this as well, uuuugghhhh)
it's so so sad. what will the toys do without their one advocate, the one person who truly understands them and what they represent? when the one good home they've ever had is gone, they've got nowhere else to go.
so, they stay.
when y/n dies, the toys have a quiet burial for them in their backyard, under a big shady tree. they make a simple marker from rocks, and pick wildflowers nearby to lay on the grave. none of them speak. it was hard enough digging the grave, and unbearably difficult to lay their savior to rest.
the house is horribly quiet afterwards.
poppy is likely the strong one throughout all this. she's had the most experience saying goodbye to people she cares about (thanks to her longevity), and she attempts to maintain a sense of optimism about it all. they'll all be ok, she's sure of it. they'll find their way through this, like always. it's what y/n would have wanted. kissy withdraws into herself further, following poppy's lead and trying not to cry.
dogday is devastated. devastated beyond all measure. he was the one to discover y/n when they passed. they were so pale, he could feel their warmth leaving them. their face looked so peaceful, they looked like they had just fallen asleep. he knew it was coming, they were getting older, but—but it's still not fair. it doesn't feel real. it can't be, his angel can't be dead, nothing has ever kept them down before, they always get back up, why couldn't they get back up—
...he tries to stay calm.
he took on the duty of grave digging. he took on the heavy burden of laying his beloved angel into the makeshift coffin they were able to cobble together. he could barely keep it together when he did. he managed, but not without crying.
that night, he waits until the girls have gone to bed before he closes himself off in y/n's bedroom. in the privacy of the once-shared space, dogday allows the truly desperate, heaving sobs he's been keeping in to finally leave his chest. tears mat down the fur on his face as he cries. he shakily grasps y/n's jacket to himself, wishing that there was some way, any way, that they could come back to him. he knows humans aren't meant to live forever. but that doesn't stop him from wishing that y/n could achieve the tentative immortality that the toys have, if only so that they could stay with him.
dogday becomes somber after his angel dies. they were his source of hope, his reason for living. they saved his life in ways beyond just physical. they were the only reason he was alive at all. without them, he's...he's not sure if he wants to keep going.
but he must. he knows he has to. y/n would want him to take care of the others, they'd want him to protect and provide for them. so, without any other purpose...that's what he does.
the toys live in their savior's house for as long as they're able. it's just their luck that the house is never put up for sale, that it's just sort of...forgotten about. it becomes a "haunted house in the woods," feared and avoided. they're more than happy to become the vague, cryptic monsters in local legends if it means that they're left alone.
nobody will come by to check on y/n for a while, and the toys will have power and food (their water comes from a well hooked up to the house) for at least a little while longer. and after that, they'll manage on what they can find in the woods.
they live as peacefully as they can for as long as they can.
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mixelation · 1 month
Text
(a)synchronicity - probably the very beginning
Tori was currently tied by the wrist to two other people, part of a chain of five civilians and one shinobi. They stood out in the rain, in a muddy field outside of Ame. Hanzo stalked back and forth in front of them. 
Needless to say, Tori’s day wasn’t going the way she had planned. 
“You are the absolute scum of the earth,” Hanzo wheezed out through the filter over his mouth. “You are traitors and usurpers. Did you really think we would let you get away?”
The Ame Tori knew– the one twenty or so years in the future– would have let civilians move out, if they could prove they needed to. She could have written herself a very compelling letter about having no familial or professional ties and no job prospects, laid out a plan for how she'd be so good at a job somewhere else in the country, and she would have gotten exit papers. 
Apparently in mid-Civil War Ame, even civilians were under suspicion of joining the rebels. Despite being homeless for the last month, despite not having a single thing to her name because she was not even from this time, despite not doing a single thing for Ame or its wars, Tori was meant to stay in Ame even if she starved. That was giving your life to a village, according to Hanzo’s ongoing mental breakdown. 
“I’d rather die here than live another day serving you,” the shinobi that was supposed to be guiding them out snarled. Then she spat into the mud. 
Why, Tori thought. There was no talking her way out of this, not with that attitude. 
“As you wish,” Hanzo answered. His hands rose towards his face. There was a shuffling around them as the Ame-nin holding their sad little group at sword-point pulled gas masks over their mouths and noses. 
Why would sewing a piece of salamander into yourself do that? Tori wondered as she watched purple fumes pour from Hanzo’s mouth. 
She didn’t have it in her to feel fear. She’d done nothing but squat in abandoned, cold buildings and beg for food for the past month. She probably hadn’t gotten properly dry the entire time. She didn’t even have the energy to feel angry. She was just annoyed and tired. 
The poison made all her neurons misfire. Pain shot through random parts of her body, and her legs convulsed and knocked her over. She dragged down both the people she was tied to– or maybe they dragged her down? It was hard to tell. They were one twitching mass of limbs and shrieks of pain at Hanzo’s feet. 
“Tell your filth friends when you see them,” Hanzo said, voice no longer distorted by the mask, “that I will not stop even when Hell is full.”
Tori knew she was properly dead by then, because the gnawing hunger of the Shinigami spread inside her, becoming a part of her, driving out her own feelings. If Hanzo was going to fill her stomach, why wasn’t he? Why was he wasting her time with this measly meal?
It almost felt good to be one with the Shinigami, who did not feel cold or tired, just hungry, always hungry. Except, today she also felt… 
What are you? The Shinigami wondered. But gods did not have to experience time strictly linearly like humans, and it puzzled it together quickly. Disgusting, Tori thought of her own soul, and then suddenly had the very human instinct to vomit. 
She could feel the souls of the five other people in her stomach. She could also feel arms cutting her hands free and then dragging her through the thick mud of the field. Her nerves twitched. This was probably just what corpses killed by Hanzo did, because the person dragging her didn’t react. 
This is a vile feeling, the Shinigami thought. Or perhaps it was what Tori thought. How dare a human touch me?
Tori had to fight to stay limp as repulsion filled her. Then she was being dumped down a hill along with the other bodies. 
Ah, the Shinigami-in-her-head thought. The carcasses after a meal. And yet I’m still hungry…
Tori had been dumped into a mass grave, on top of a pit of rotting human bodies half-submerged in mud. Bile rose in her mouth, but she fought it back down, flailing for the edge of the pit. She refused to look down or think too hard as the Shinigami faded from her brain. 
It took a long time and many failed attempts to crawl her way up the muddy slope. 
Tori allowed herself to splay out in the mud for a few minutes. The Ame-nin were long gone. She hated dying, but it was a convenient little trick. 
The poison still had lingering effects, and she stumbled over her own feet several times as she headed to the forest at the edge of the field. Her vision was spotted. But she was alive, and she was getting the hell out of Rain Country. 
xXx
Tori was still in Rain Country. Travel was… challenging. Rain Country was at war with itself and its neighboring countries. Ninja occupied towns and roads and would randomly show up and kill you for no reason, or perhaps confiscate your supplies if you were lucky. The ninja came from every country, having made Ame the stage for their stupid Third War. 
She had money now, though, at least. Ninja here weren’t any better at not getting tricked than they were in her timeline. 
“What do you mean, kill them?” the farmer’s wife said. “They’re ninja!”
“They’re not even conscious,” Tori countered. She pressed the knife at the woman again. “They’ll die like anyone.”
The farmer’s wife seemed doubtful, her eyes nervously flickering over to her dining room where three young men sat slumped over their seats. 
“Fine, I’ll show you,” Tori said, turning on her heel and marching back into the room. 
It was nice of the farmer’s wife to let her stay with them, curled up in the dry hay of her barn. The ninja had been here since Tori had, because she’d stalked them here. 
The farmer’s wife had old medications prescribed to her husband, from before the supply shortages and before her husband had died resisting a ninja raid. It had taken very little convincing from Tori to get the woman to crush up pills into the food she served the ninja. And then it had worked, because ninja had a hard time believing non-ninja weren’t idiots. They hadn’t expected a young civilian like Tori asking a bunch of stupid questions to be a distraction for another civilian doing something dangerous. 
Of course, there was a period between being drugged and passing out where the ninja had realized something was wrong. There were several kunai in the walls and a huge scorch across the wooden dining table from them freaking out. This was probably why the farmer’s wife had refused to enter the room, despite being gungho about the plan just an hour ago. 
The drugs worked just as well as the warning label had promised, though. There were all out like alight, breath and limbs heavy
Tori hovered over the biggest of the three ninja with the knife. A Konoha headband glinted back up at her. It was funny. She’d always just assumed Konoha-nin would be kinder than everyone else, but they weren’t. They would barge into some lady’s house, scare the shit out of her kids, and demand free room and board, just like any other ninja. The farmer’s wife had no idea what village had killed her husband, and it didn’t matter. All ninja were ninja to someone like her. 
Tori fiddled with the knife. She wasn’t… she didn’t… well. She didn’t mind the idea of killing someone with a knife, but she had no idea how to do it cleanly. 
She ended up turning the knife on herself and making a little incision into the fatty part of her forearm for blood. It would take some extra time and finagling, but fuuinjutsu was almost always what she was most comfortable with. She patted the ninja down for a spare fuuinjutsu brush– a lot of them had them, even if all they knew how to do was re-ink storage scrolls– and set about making a seal that would disrupt the ninja’s chakra just long enough to kill them. 
It took long enough that the farmer’s wife regained the courage to creep into the kitchen.
“You’re one of them,” she gasped at the seal Tori had drawn in blood across the table. 
“Um,” Tori said, settling the third ninja’s hand into place on the seal. “No I’m not?”
She smeared the last character into place with her finger, to activate the seal. She’d drawn the seal imperfectly, as it was on a random table in blood rather than traditional methods, and a lot of very dramatic smoke escaped. 
The farmer’s wife made a lot of dramatic, outraged spitting noises. She didn’t even seem relieved when Tori confirmed all three men were dead now. 
She kicked Tori out, although she did nothing but stand around and accuse Tori of being a lying bitch while Tori patted down the corpses for useful things. Like more pocket change. Or travel supplies. Or– gasp!– sealing ink and a bunch of blank tags!
“Which village sent you?” the farmer’s wife demanded, waving around another knife she’d picked up at some point. “Don’t you dare send any more of your freak friends out here!”
“I suggest burning the bodies,” Tori told her and she packed up her new goodies to leave and wiped the table clean of evidence. She didn’t need any shinobi getting wind of her fuuinjutsu. “Or anything else to hide their identities.”
Of all the villages, Konoha was most likely to send people to investigate random disappearances. They liked tracking where their bloodline limits ended up. Or, at least, that’s what the Iwa-nin that Tori had failed to convince to go engage a Konoha team had said as his excuse.  
The temperature was dropping as she hiked away from the farm. Maybe there was a way to use fuuinjutsu to temperature-regulate her tent… no, that seemed like it needed a lot of testing to make sure she didn’t set it on fire in the night…
Tori’s hands balled into fists as she walked. Why was even finding a warm bed impossible? Or someone to just be nice to her, without suspicion and threats?
****
TORI KILL COUNT: 3
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royalsunshinehotel · 1 month
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Little Star (Monkey Man, 2024)
Author’s Note: I watched Monkey Man twice this past weekend! Here’s a scene between the woman in the Green Dress, and the dog. This fic is dark and sad, but has a hopeful twist. Tara is pronounced Taara here, and it’s the hindi word for Star. Stay tuned for information about my patreon (soon)!
Blood. Blood everywhere, and it was a beautiful thing, and the thought made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. How far had she fallen from the girl she was, to look at all this destruction in what was left of the kitchen, and see only beauty? 
Sita instinctively picked up the hem of her silky green dress, so it wouldn’t drag on the red tile of the kitchen, as if it mattered now, as if Queenie’s blood hadn’t spattered all over her face when she’d caved her skull in. 
She shuffled forward, slowly, steadily, so as not to slip on her stupid shoes. She’d never minded high heels, she liked the idea of being tall enough to look someone in the eyes, but not now. Not anymore. 
He’d really done it, hadn’t he? A month ago, when he’d taken his first shot at Rana Singh, she knew by the look in his eyes it was only a matter of time. And it was. 
Bobby. 
Another shaky step brought her further to the fucking exit of this cursed place, and she laughed to herself thinking of how she would never come back here. 
She giggled thinking about how hard Queenie had hid the ground, and the dull crunch that her hand made when he’d stolen her thumb. 
It wasn’t funny. Nothing about it would ever be funny, but it sent her forward. There was no other way to go. 
There was a split second, stepping over all of the blood and death, where Sita almost slipped. A moment, where her breath caught and she thought a moment ahead, to when she would have hit the ground. Knowing herself the way she did, she likely would have stayed there. 
But she didn’t. She didn’t. She caught herself, as she always did, and almost winced at the loud clack of her heels on the fatigued pavement. 
The night air was cool, descending like a blanket. When was the last time she’d been outside? She wondered. 
Diwali was in full swing, she could hear it from blocks away. There was a chance she could run into the night and never be seen again. It wasn’t as if her jailers were able to come find her from the afterlife. It wasn’t as if she had any money that could be stolen from her. Anyone who had cared for her was in the wind, or dead, including the man on the top floor with a finger in his pocket. 
Last time she stood in this alley, Sita told him not to keep feeding the dog. That she’d only keep coming back, with hope. Hope breeds misery, and she wouldn’t wish that on such a sweet creature. 
He’d known her tattoo was a koyal, and he’d seen right through the rest of her too. She couldn’t do the same, and she’d hated him for it. 
How could someone wear their softness so openly, and be completely opaque at the same time. She had to hate him, and he’d let her, with complete understanding. But she couldn’t now, could she. . . Why not?
Who was left to tell her she wasn’t ladylike enough, or enough for that matter? In the many evenings from that one night, she’d heard him whistle. Sita copied the tone.
She had been kind once, maybe with everyone dead or gone, she could be again. 
Several heartbeats passed, and she found herself wondering if the dog was alright. She thought the worst, as that’s what the truth probably was. 
The little dog had been trampled to death, maybe some drunk men had decided to torture and kill the poor thing, maybe the sweet creature was in heaven now…Her large eyes began to well, and she tried whatever she could to shove it down. 
Perhaps after all this time, Sita was still a fool. 
And then, tap tap tap tap of little paws on the pavement. 
In the alley, Sita turned slowly, met by a pair of bright, brown eyes, and a warmth spread in her chest, like a paintbrush in water. The dog looked alright, more robust than the last time she’d seen her, and sat perfectly still, waiting. 
She couldn’t help but coo at the good girl. 
“Come here, my little star,” The puppy inched closer, body wiggling in the way babies do, “we can’t stop to eat now, but we will.” 
The dog - Tara, she decided - tapped her cold, wet nose against Sita’s hand, and the woman reached down to pick her up. She was mostly bone, with more muscle and fat than other dogs she’d seen - Bobby would take the credit for that, in her mind. 
By the size of the dog's feet, Tara would be large, and with Sita at her side, she would, in fact, grow up. 
“What have you got?” She asked the puppy,  meeting her big brown eyes, Sita took the burlap scrap, to reveal a gun. A very, very old, heavy gun - loaded. With a note, in bold, curved, letters: 
TIME TO REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE
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ashtheketchum · 2 months
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A new family Part 4
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A/N: Before we start the new chapter, I wanted to thank you again! I never expected so much feedback, but it makes me incredibly happy. :D <3333 (Picture from Pinterest!)
(H/C) = Your hair colour
Warnings: Mention of death, typical twd content
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
Taglist: @in-this-minute @alialiclouds
Masterlist!
__________________________________
PoV (Y/N):
Rick, Glenn, Tdog and Daryl headed back to Atlanta to look for Merle. I didn't really like the idea, but once Daryl had made up his mind about something, you couldn't just talk him out of it. So we let him do that.
"Do you think they'll find Merle, Mom?" (D/N) asked quietly, visibly nervous. Sighing, I shook my head and I looked at her. A sad smile adorns my face. "I don't know…" I then told her. (D/N) had a depressing look on her face. I stroked her head lightly before looking at Daryl, who was packing everything and getting his crossbow ready. I had to suppress a smile for a moment when I saw him quickly put on (D/N)'s necklace.
"Why don't you go and wish Daryl good luck?" I then asked (D/N) as my eyes went back to her. (D/N) looked at me uncertainly for a moment, but then nodded and ran towards Daryl. They spoke briefly before (D/N) just nodded slightly and walked away again. I looked at it briefly, (D/N) didn't seem sad, but not happy either. However, I didn't want to ask Daryl about it because he was already on his way.
<Time Skip>
Lori, Carl, Shane, Dale and the others were all sitting around the campfire together. They talked, ate together and laughed together. However, (D/N) was sitting in our tent and she was staring at the ground. Was she really that worried about Daryl? Because I didn't want to leave her alone, I also stayed in the tent, but I had gotten us food beforehand. "Honey, is everything okay?" I asked her as I took a small bite of my food. (D/N) mumbled under her breath for a moment before shaking her head.
Sighing, I put my plate down and I looked at her worriedly. ,, What's the matter? I can see it.” (D/N) tensed her hands before shaking her head. "I'm a bad person, Mom…" she then said. Her words surprised me for a moment and at first I thought I had misheard. But this was not the case. My daughter actually said that she was supposedly a bad person. “What makes you think that, honey?” My voice was a little louder than before. "I… I don't want Merle to come back… he's just not good for us…" She then admitted quietly.
Her confession made me sigh. But at the same time, a certain fear was building up inside me. Sure, when children grow up in a world like this, they quickly get used to it, but I still couldn't accept it. My daughter would probably wish Merle dead, whether she wanted to or not.
"But you know he's Daryl's brother…" I then said quietly. (D/N) nodded immediately and picked up her water bottle to take a drink from it. "I know… but I still don't like Merle…" Her words made me smile briefly. "And then what do you want to happen to Merle?" Hopefully I didn't ask this question so obviously that (D/N) would think I trusted her to want someone dead. Actually, I didn't believe that either, but I had to have confirmation. "That maybe he was found by other people and left with them… or he ran away…" (D/N) then murmured quietly.
Her words immediately made me relax and my shoulders slumped. "Oh, honey…" I sighed softly again. I gently pulled her towards me and I hugged her tightly. I ran my hands through her (H/C) hair. "You're not a bad person for hoping that Merle is somewhere else… you just want to feel safe…" I assured her quietly. (D/N) nodded briefly before smiling at me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. ,, Thank you Mom…!"
Before I could answer her, we suddenly heard a loud scream. I immediately pushed (D/N) into the tent and I put the blanket over her. ,, Stay calm! And don’t move away…!” I whispered to her before going out and closing the tent again. I immediately watched as some of our people were eaten by the walkers. They had made it to the quarry and were attacking us. It had caught Amy and many others.
I quickly grabbed my knife, which I had gotten from Shane, before running over to help them. I stabbed the walkers in the head and pushed a few away so they would leave our people alone. However, out of the corner of my eye I saw a walker at my tent and I immediately heard (D/N) calling for me. She probably thought it was me, but her words only drew the walker closer to the tent. "(D/N)!" I immediately shouted loudly. I ran as fast as I could to my tent to help her, but the walker was already scratching at the tent. (D/N) screamed loudly and cried loudly as I got closer and closer to the walker. On the way I stabbed a few walkers in the head before I was behind the walker.
Before I reached him, however, an arrow was fired and it hit the walker square in the head. Breathing heavily, I looked around as the walker now lay still on the tent. Before I could even find the rescuer, I pulled the walker away and I tore open my tent. "Mom!" (D/N) immediately whimpered loudly and hugged me tightly. She cried into my shoulder as I rubbed her back. "Everything is fine…! I’m with you now…!” I assured her. "Wha´ the hell is goin´ on!?" I heard someone calling.
I turned to the voice and saw Daryl running towards us. He pulled the arrow out of the walker's skull and then looked at me and (D/N). (D/N) was still breathing quickly and clutching my clothes. Daryl understood immediately and grabbed my arm to pull me up. I picked up (D/N) and looked at him confused. “Stay behind me!” He ordered us and started walking.
I followed Daryl as he walked closer and closer to Dale's RV. Sometimes he would check on us to make sure we were okay. (D/N) could now walk on her own, but she still held on to me tightly.
Tdog, Dale, Glenn, Shane, Daryl and Rick looked after the walkers all night long. In the morning everything was destroyed and we took care of these undead. Just a few people got bitten. Glenn and the others agreed that our people should be buried, even if Daryl wasn't happy about it. He wanted to argue again, but I gave him a sharp look and he remained silent. "Stupid idea…" He just mumbled, but more to himself. With a pickaxe, Daryl stabbed the walkers' heads to make sure they really wouldn't get up again. I made (D/N) look away and stay with Carl.
Meanwhile I went to Daryl. Somehow I was nervous, but also very tired, last night was just too much. When I was a few meters away from Daryl, he looked up at me. Sweat ran down his forehead and he looked at me with slightly narrowed eyes. "Wha´?" he asked. His tone actually gave me the reason to leave again. He sounded pissed, but he was probably tired too. And then he had to swing that heavy pickaxe around. "I… wanted to thank you… for saving (D/N) yesterday…" I then murmured quietly.
I looked down uncertainly, but then raised my gaze again because all the walkers were below me. Daryl hummed quietly before continuing to swing his pickaxe. "No prob´…" is all he said. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but I didn't want to force him to tell me. "If you need help, you can ask me…" That's all I said before I walked away.
I could still feel the redneck's gaze on my back, but I ignored it.
PoV Daryl:
Seeing (D/N) and (Y/N) almost die took me a bit by surprise. Even though they were both very annoying, they were mother and child. I sighed quietly before I went back to my work. "The lil´ one and ya r´safe with me…" I then muttered to myself.
Next Chapter ->
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damn-stark · 2 months
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Chapter 32 Our last goodbye
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Chapter 32 of Sugar
A/N- Fun fact i had planned that Choso and y/n were barely going to hold hands in this chapter, when Satoru went to fight Sukuna 😂 good thing that didn’t happen lmao
Warning- Swearing, ANGST, talks of pregnancy, fluff, cigarettes, SPOILERS!! long chapter! Don't listen to this song while reading the goodbye scene at the beginning, it’ll make it sadder….
Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader
Episode and or chapters- chapters 222-225 of the manga
(Let me know if you want to be tagged)
————
*A DAY BEFORE THE 24th*
Being outside your house wishing your daughter goodbye is reminiscent of last year when the twins were here, your family was strongly bonded, and Suguru was alive.
Now a year later, Suguru is dead, the twins are gone too, and the family you built with Suguru is distant. Now you’re talking to your brother, hoping once again that you all make it back alive.
“You’re not feeling sick today are you?” You tease your daughter.
Albeit she looks at you lost, going completely unaware that you’re recalling last year when she pretended to be sick so you and Suguru could stay behind.
“No,” she deadpans and shoots you a weird look. “Now why can’t you come with me?”
You sigh and crouch down to be at her level. “Because I have to stay here and fight because I’m strong and I can do something to help.”
Satori looks down with a pout so you quickly grab her hands and tilt your head down. “But you know what? I’ll see you before you know it.”
Satori gently kicks away some dirt and mumbles, “that’s what daddy said and I never saw him again.”
Shit, shit.
“I know honey, I know this is hard, and it’s okay to feel sad, tomorrow is a year since we lost your dad. But I will make it back okay? We will see each other again, I promise.” You try to assure her, but she keeps her eyes down, causing you to feel a pang of anguish in your heart but for an idea also pop into your head. “I have something I want to give you.”
Satori’s eyes flicker up and you let her hands go to pull something cold out of your pocket.
“I wanted to give you this later on,” you let her know and grab her hand again. “But I think right now is more fitting.”
You open her palm and place a necklace with three rings hanging from it. “This,” you continue while a smile finally breaks onto her features. “Is the rings your dad and I used to wear. This,” you point to your engagement ring. “Is the ring your dad gave me when he asked me to marry him, next to it is the ring he put on me when we got married, and that one,” you point to a thicker gold ring. “That one is your dad's wedding ring. You get to keep that now. So when you get older you get to size it so it fits you or turn it into something else. The same goes for my rings.”
Satori picks up the rings and holds them up to take a better look at them.
“But what about you?” She asks and tries to slide on your old engagement ring, but her fingers are still too small. “Won’t you miss it?”
You laugh breathlessly. “No, I have one, don’t worry about me.”
Satori hangs the necklace around her head and tucks the rings in her shirt before offering you a smile. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome, now come here, so I can give you a big kiss…” you trail off the moment you capture her in an embrace and press kisses on her cheeks.
Satori giggles and squirms in your embrace. “No, no!”
You pull back and cup her cheeks. “Listen to me Satori, if you are ever in danger you can use your cursed technique okay? You can use any sword you make, okay?”
A flash of fear passes through her eyes, but you’re quick to push that fear away. “No, it’s okay; it doesn’t mean anything will happen, your uncles will be with you the entire time, and the community will too, so don’t worry I’m just letting you know.”
Satori lets out a deep breath and you caress her cheeks before giving her a sweet and assuring smile. “I love you,” you tell her from the bottom of your heart. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“I love you too,” she redirects and grabs your cheeks too.
“I’ll call you before bed.”
You nod in agreement and then glance at Satoru in the distance before you lean in and whisper in your daughter's ear. “Go say goodbye to your uncle, and Choso.”
Satori nods eagerly before she breaks away from you and runs over to Satoru. “Uncle Satoru!” She exclaims. And like expected Satoru crouches to be closer to her level and waits with open arms.
When Satori gets close to him she jumps over to him, knowing for certain that she’ll be caught and not lose balance.
“You know what?” She interjects as Satoru stands up to his given height with her secured in his hold. “I know a secret.”
“Hm?” Satoru probes with a curious smile.
You watch them from a distance and Choso approaches you from behind to wrap his arm around your shoulders.
“You will win,” Satori lets Satoru know. “With your fight against Sukuna, you’ll win and bring Fushiguro home.”
Satoru blinks and his face slowly loses that teasing look that had been playing on his features, and a soft look slowly takes over.
“Oh? You think so?” He asks.
Satori nods. “Yes, because you’re strong. My Mommy and my Daddy always said you were the strongest sorcerer. And I believe you are strong too. That’s why I know you’ll win.”
Instead of smiling Satoru sighs and frowns before he brings up a genuine question. “And if I lose? Sukuna is strong too, what if I lose?”
Satori hums and averts her gaze for a moment before she grabs his cheeks and assures him. “Then you can all try again.”
Satoru’s lips pull to a smile and Satori whispers loudly. “But either way I will still think you’re strong, and I will still love you.”
Satoru’s eyes water and all he can do is nod in comprehension.
“I’ll miss you when I’m away,” Satori admits. “Don’t tell my friends but I think you’re my greatest friend.”
Satoru chuckles. “Your secret is safe with me.” He assures her and caresses the side of her head. “And you know what? When you miss me just look at the sky and remember that me and your mother are under the same sky, we see the same moon and the same sun.”
Satori lifts her head to look at the white clouds covering the blue sky with a smile she then shows off to her uncle. “Cool. Will you call me when the fight is over?” She asks.
Satoru sighs and doesn’t let her see his worry. “I'll try,” he assures her before he presses her against him to hug her tightly. “I love you Satori.”
Your daughter giggles and doesn’t hesitate to say it back. “I love you too, Uncle Satoru. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Bye, Sugar.” He says sweetly before he puts her down, letting her walk to Choso, and letting you exhale deeply and then turn to face your family waiting for Satori to say her goodbyes to leave.
“We’ll take care of her,” Larue says as you approach him and the others.
“Okay,” you mumble and look at him, Miguel, Manami, and Toshihisa with a look you can’t keep hardened, no matter how unresolved your feelings are towards your family. “But call if something happens,” you tell them. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“You don’t have to worry,” Larue interjects. “You focus on winning this fight…I know we may not be close right now but we are still family,” he clarifies to you and the rest gathered behind them. “We will always be family no matter what.”
You can’t say you disagree with that. No matter how upset you still are you can’t forsake them.
“I would like to say I wish you could all stay,” you finally drift the subject away from formalities. “But I’m glad you’re all leaving. That way everyone is safe.”
“Careful or I'll think you’re caring about us,” Toshihisa blurts, making you scoff.
“We’re family above all else, idiot.” You snap back. “I care. But…I can’t forgive just yet. However, there’s no one else I trust to take care of Satori than all of you…” you pause and offer them a genuine smile. “So please keep her safe.”
Miguel grabs your shoulder and assures you. “They will. They’ll keep everyone safe.”
You let out a deep sigh and nod softly. “You’ll come back right?” You ask him after some plans changed.
Miguel nods. “I’ll just accompany them to where they’ll layover and come back right away.”
You wish he’d stay with them too, but this is how things have to be with strong sorcerers like him. “All right,” you mumble and glance at the others. “I'll call when the fight is over to say if we won or lost. If I don’t call in a week then…please always remind Satori why I had to stay back and fight.”
Larue frowns and wants to contradict you so you don’t worry, but you’ll fight harder to get your point across so he agrees.
“Goodbye everyone, and be careful, and don’t let Satori watch the broadcast, okay?”
Miguel and Larue offer you an assuring nod, and Manami and Toshihisa give you a small wave. You turn to face Satori and meet her gaze right away.
“Goodbye, Choso, goodbye Uncle Satoru!” She throws out over her shoulder as she comes running over to you followed by her Tiger cursed spirit companion.
When she reaches you you give her one more hug. “Listen to your uncle okay? And pick up the phone when I call. I love you, my chipmunk.”
Satori squeezes you back. “I love you too Mommy.”
You keep her in your arms for a moment longer and when you feel her start to squirm you pull back and grab her cheeks to stare at her for a lingering moment before you let her go.
“Bye, Satori.” Your voice quivers, but she doesn’t catch it.
“Bye Mommy,” she says back over her shoulder when she turns to head to the car. “Bye, Uncle Satoru! Bye, Choso!”
“Bye Satori!” Satoru shouts whilst Choso returns the goodbye in a quieter tone.
“Bye Satori.”
You watch with tear-filled eyes and a weight laying heavier on your heart as Satori loads up in the car with the rest of your family. When she’s no longer seen and the car starts to roll away you can't handle the anguish or hold that weight, your heart sinks, and tears stream down your eyes, revealing your anguish upon seeing your daughter having to leave once again because of the dangers happening in your world.
Once again your daughter has to leave with the fear of not knowing if she'll see you again. She doesn’t express it, but you know it’s something that creeps inside her, and it became a much more terrifying fear after she lost Suguru.
And once again you have to live apart and say goodbye without knowing how long you’ll go without seeing your daughter, you have to live with heightened self-loathing for having to send her away once again. However, once again Choso is here with you. The last time you said goodbye to your daughter it was through the phone, and Choso and you were simple allies. Now he’s your husband, and now he’s holding you against him as you watch the cars' view get blocked by buses carrying the rest of the people from your community.
The moment the last bus leaves the grounds and the gates close more streams of tears fall down your cheeks. Choso can’t see your face, but he knows you well, before he can even hear you sniffle or before you can say a single word he turns you around to face him.
“She’ll be safe,” he tries to assure you. “She’ll be far away, but she’ll be safe.”
You meet his gaze and only cry harder at the feeling of his comfort. Choso then wastes no time to press his hand over your heart and tilt his head down to meet your gaze.
“My love,” he whispers. “You’ll see each other again.”
You slowly raise your hand and gently cup the back of his hand.
“I don’t want her to hate me,” you share a deep fear. “If I somehow lose I don’t want her to think I left her on purpose.”
Choso shakes his head. “You won’t lose,” he sets the record straight—or really he manifests that you won’t die tomorrow if Satoru somehow loses.
“…and she won’t hate you. You’ll reunite,” he says softly. “She’ll only hear how brave her mother was.”
You share a breathless laugh and then let out a deep breath that helps you relax your shoulders.
“Come here,” he whispers and pulls gently on your arm to wrap you in an embrace.
——
*LATER*
“I didn’t want to send her away, I hope you know that,” you whisper to the hibiscus plant to indirectly talk to Suguru without being heard or seen from those inside the house.
You’re not embarrassed, you’d just prefer to talk to your dead…husband? Ex-husband? What would he be now that you’re married?
Hm.
Nevertheless, you’d prefer to talk to him without anyone listening in.
“…But I also can’t risk letting anything happen to her,” you continue and feed the plant more water. “I hope that doesn’t upset you. I know we told ourselves we wouldn’t let Satori spend too much time without us. That’s not the parents we’d be, but…” you pause and sigh deeply. “It’s hard now with all this mess going on. I’m sorry.” You drop your head and hopelessly wait for a response. You knew you wouldn’t get one, but in the back of your head, you still leave silence to wait.
When the silence prolongs you lift your head and stare at the hibernating plant with longing to see Suguru in front of you instead of a mere plant so he can talk to you. So he can tell you that you’re stressing yourself out too much. Choso tells you, he gives you comfort and you appreciate it and him, but he’s not Satori’s father, he agrees with every choice you make about her. He doesn’t have the same wisdom, he won’t argue against you about the choices you make about sending your daughter away, he’s…not Suguru.
“…I’ll leave you be now,” you whisper. “Wish me luck.”
You get off the floor with the equipment you were using. When you reach the corner of the greenhouse you put away the equipment and take your gloves off to put them away before you wash your hands. You had brought your horse out so she could roam while you were outside; so you look out the window in search of her. And much to your surprise she’s not far, but you catch Kashimo watching her from up close.
So if Kashimo is here that means Hakari, Kirara, and Shoko are here too, and they didn’t bother to come looking for you.
Whatever!
You walk out after you change back into your riding boots, and immediately catch Kashimo’s attention.
“Oh wow,” he interjects nonchalantly. “Did he bore you already?”
You shoot him a pointed look and roll your eyes before you snap back. “Well, considering what we’re going to do tomorrow there’s no time for an actual honeymoon.”
Kashimo scoffs and shocks you by smirking at you. “You know I like—no,” he says. “I bask in all of the doubt you all have on Gojo.”
You lift a brow and tease him. “Which Gojo?”
He shoots you a dirty look before remarking. “You know who. Anyway, I’m glad you all doubt your brother's inability to win it means I will get to—”
“Kill yourself fighting your true love,” you mock him and touch your chest to feign swooning. “How romantic. You know I wish someone would let a lunatic bring them back after 400 years just to see me.”
Kashimo exhales through his nose out of frustration, so you chuckle whilst you walk past him to take your horse's lead and walk her back to the barn.
“Coming to fight the King of Curses is not a joke, I have reserved my cursed technique to use on the only opponent worthy of it.”
You peer at him over your shoulder and notice that he’s following you so you scoff at him and shake your head before you don’t hold back from sharing what you’re thinking. “Wasting your whole life chasing after death is pretty stupid. Did you even live your life?”
“I died an old man,” he grumbles.
You shrug and shake your head once again in disapproval. “And I admire you for it, I want to die old and wrinkly too, but what did you do throughout it? You spent your life unsatisfied because no one measured up to that monster…that sounds pretty pathetic…” you trail off in a whisper and let go of your horse's lead to pet her mane while she follows at your side.
“Oh please,” he retorts. “You sound just…” he trails off and you of course get curious over what he didn't say, but you’ve gotten to know him and he won’t budge and say anything even if you plead, so you just leave it be.
Even if not knowing will probably bother you.
“I had a life,” he throws out to try and prove you wrong. “I had a wife…she was dull though.”
You glare at him over your shoulder and shake your head. “How typical of you to say that,” you mutter between gritted teeth.
Kashimo shrugs with nonchalance. “What?” He retorts. “It was an arranged marriage. She was dull. Don’t tell me that you wouldn't say that about someone. I bet you’ve met some pretty dull woman in your line of work.”
You scrunch your nose and counter immediately. “No! All the women I’ve met in my line of work are hard-working, you don’t know what they have to go through to run down those runaways or pose for those photoshoots. They don’t all have the privilege of having money like me. Asshole.”
Kashimo doesn’t flinch at the insult and just crosses his arms over his chest and frowns deeper. “Okay then…” he trails off and mumbles something under his breath you don’t catch or get to question before he’s interjecting. “You're a Gojo, I’m sure you were arranged to someone.”
A smile tugs on your lips and you slow down to fall by his side and share about the man that almost was your husband. “Actually yes, Naoya Zen’in. He was misogynistic, and he liked to belittle me.”
Kashimo huffs and looks at you with pride. “Exactly so you can’t say shit.”
You smirk at him and hesitate showing off. “I actually beat him up with the help of Choso. We jumped him, and I shut him up.” You say proudly and bounce your shoulders. “And, I’m proud to say this, I sent a picture of him to his brothers looking all pathetic on the ground.”
A smirk flickers on the corner of his lips but he doesn’t show it for more than a second. “Why didn’t you just kill him?” He remarks.
You sigh dramatically. “It would be too much work. It was after Shibuya, I was hiding and going through different emotions so I didn’t want to deal with Zen’in’s seeking revenge.”
“You’re special grade though,” he points out. “You think they would’ve given you trouble?”
You meet his gaze and shake your head. “No. But again, I was going through stuff, and we were dealing with a hundred other things, so, it would’ve just been an inconvenience.”
Kashimo hums and you add on. “Naoya is dead so it doesn’t matter anymore either way.”
You reach the barn so you slide the lead off the horse and watch her walk into her stall before you reunite with Kashimo outside by the fence.
“I’m not doubting my brother by the way,” you make yourself clear since you couldn’t defend yourself before. “I just know tomorrow will be hard. I don’t want to build some illusion and only get hurt more if something bad were to happen, so I’m just preparing myself, everyone is.”
Kashimo keeps his eyes on the other horses grazing on the large field, but you both then glance at your beautiful black and white horse walking out of her stall to join the others.
“But it also doesn’t mean we’re not hoping you won’t fight,” you add and let your lips pull on a smile for him. “If you want to live out your dream and show off your technique then I’m excited to see what you’re hiding. So if you tag in for Satoru to let him take a break then that will be pretty cool.”
Kashimo turns his head, and when you see his gaze on you from the corner of your eyes you lean forward to fold your arms over the wooden fence before you slowly turn your head to look at him.
“I’m still hoping you’ll win though so I don’t have to fight him,” you continue in his silence. “But please if the fight does fall on you, kill Sukuna after we have killed Kenjaku, okay? That way we catch him by surprise like we want to.”
Kashimo sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “If you’re not fast then I don’t know what to tell you,” he says bluntly, making you groan and push yourself off the fence to turn and face him.
“You know what? I hope my brother wins and you're left salivating over a what-if scenario with Sukuna,” you quip and shoot him a feigned sweet smile before you turn on your heels and start to walk back inside.
Kashimo doesn’t want to be left alone since your community is deserted now and slowly tows behind you.
“Don’t get disappointed when Sukuna rejects you,” you tease Kashimo, making him kick a small rock at your back.
Instead of being bugged by the action you laugh mockingly for too long before you join his silence.
Eventually when you get inside you walk to the parlor room where everyone seems to be. You can hear laughs and conversations, however, before you can turn toward the room you spot Shoko and Satoru outside. And the decision is clear, you join them on the back porch whilst Kashimo joins the others.
“Where have you been?” Satoru asks the moment you step outside. “Did you make my dinner yet?”
You raise a brow and scoff before you sit down by Shoko on the bench. “What are you doing outside?” You ask.
Shoko shrugs. “Just letting the students be and reminiscing about our youthful past.”
You laugh softly and pull your boots off before you tuck your feet under her thighs to keep them warm.
“It’s good when you’re around,” Shoko adds while she kills her cigarette. “It keeps me from smoking.”
You yawn and lay back on the cushions under you. “It’s good I’m pregnant that way I can stop smoking.”
“I have a name for one of your babies,” Satoru interjects. “Satoru the Second.”
You loll your head to the side and shoot him a pointed look. “I am not naming my child Satoru the Second. Satori was only given her name because Suguru liked it so much. I was going to name her Fumiko, which means hibiscus and beautiful child.”
Satoru puts his thumbs down and you ignore him to add another comment. “I’m actually not naming my children after anyone. I already told Choso that. We have too many people to choose from and I don’t want anyone to feel left out, so we’re not honoring anyone.”
“Well,” Satoru adds lazily as he lays back on the hammock. “Half of those people are dead so no one will know.”
“I’ll know,” you quickly rebuttal. “So if you have any name suggestions besides Satoru the Second, I will Iove to hear them. Choso and I will take it under consideration.” You smile sweetly at the ceiling.
“Is it okay if I name my cat Satoru the Second?” Shoko interjects “I want to get a cat after all this, someone to keep me company while I work. And I think cats with funny names are the cutest.”
You snort and Satoru remarks. “Hey!”
“The barn cat just had a litter of kittens,” you mention and wrap your arms over your chest to hug yourself as you feel a chill go down your spine and spread little goosebumps everywhere. “Take one when they’re big enough.”
Shoko pats your leg as a thank you before she says it. “Oh really thanks, that saves me a thousand bucks.”
“What?” Satoru teases. “You were going to get a thousand-dollar cat?”
“Yes,” she agrees right away. “I wanted one of those hairless cats to go with the funny name.”
You chortle and point at Satoru.
Your brother notices and swings the hammock towards you to slam the side of your thigh with his foot.
“You're so gross,” you snap back. “Your foot stinks.
“Untrue!” He quickly rebuttals. “I take good care of my feet.”
“Do you guys remember that game we used to play before you all went on big missions,” Shoko cuts in before Satoru and you can start going on and on just arguing. “The one where we told the worst thing that could happen and something we want to do after?”
You think for a moment to recall back to your high school days.
However, just as the memory hits you before you can say a thing Satoru blurts. “Yes, I remember! You made it up even though you hardly went on missions.”
“Hm, I know, but it was cool for you guys, no?” She asks.
You nod and hug yourself tighter before you take your phone out as you respond. “Yes, it was, so let’s play it now. You go first.”
You then text Choso since you don’t want to suffer through this bitterness any longer.
You to Choso: Could you bring me a blanket? I’m out on the back porch.
“Okay, well, the worst thing that could happen to me,” Shoko muses and lays back to tilt her head over the headrest. “Maybe lose my sense of taste.”
You laugh and check your phone as a message comes in.
Choso: Of course. Do you want a specific one?
You: no, any, please and thank you xoxo
“Sense of taste now how could you—”
“Eh!” Shoko cuts him off sharply. “No you don’t get to judge, remember?! Now I will answer your question.” She says and lets out a small breath before sharing her reasoning. “I would hate to lose my sense of taste because how am I supposed to drink? Tasting is a huge reason why anyone drinks, I mean if I can’t taste it I’d just get drunk on nothing-tasting liquid. It wouldn’t be fun.”
You chuckle and can’t help but agree. “That’s true I mean, especially when it comes to tropical drinks. I love those.”
“Exactly!”
Without saying anything Satoru just groans in a very specific judgy way.
“And you already know what I want to do after so Satoru go on,” Shoko encourages him. And without a moment to think about his response he blurts.
“I'd hate to lose my ability to speak, I have so much on my mind, and how could I bless people with my voice if I don't have it?! Oh and karaoke?”
You roll your eyes and snicker before you quip. “I would for one wouldn’t mind a mute brother. No more nagging voice.”
“Yeah,” Shoko agrees thoughtfully. “Silence at work would be wonderful.”
“Whatever, whatever,” Satoru doesn’t let either of you bother him. “Now what do I want to do after?” He trails off humming, and the door then opens.
You sit up and when you look back you see none other than Choso with a blanket.
“Here,” he says and walks over to hand you the blanket.
“Thank you,” you tell him with a sweet smile.
Choso nods and just as he’s about to turn to walk back inside you grab his wrist and pull him back to you. “Stay,” you suggest—or demand more like. “Leave the kids to…do whatever amongst themselves.”
Choso glances at Shoko and then at Satoru before letting his eyes fall back on you to express clear distress. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” he says, making you flash him a grin.
“Yes, I'm sure, we’re just hanging out,” you assure him.
Choso still seems unsure, and as Shoko sees that, she interjects to ease his concern. “You’re family now Choso, you don’t have to worry about intruding anything, plus this is your house now too, so you’re more than welcome.”
Choso still glances back at your brother with hesitation.
“He’s working out his mind by thinking of a response, you have to give him a minute,” you let Choso know. “But he won’t mind, now sit.”
Choso meets your gaze and holds it for a moment as he debates with himself before he decides to turn and sit down beside you, letting you lay down to rest your head on his lap while you cover your legs and Shoko’s lap with the blanket.
“Okay, Cho, we’re playing a game,” you let him know. “It’s something we’d play back in high school, just before we’d go on missions. You have to say the worst thing that can happen to you in that mission, but it can’t be anything depressing. And then you have to share something you want to do after, again nothing too depressing. It's just for fun.”
“Okay,” Choso rolls out as he thinks about the concept of the game.
“Shoko said that the worst thing for her would be to lose her sense of taste, and she wants to get a cat after this ordeal is over,” you share so he can understand better and have no questions. “And Satoru said something stupid like losing his ability to speak, he’s thinking of the next response, which!” You direct at Satoru loudly now. “He needs to hurry up and do!”
“No,” Satoru finally says. “Come back to me. I can’t make up my mind. You put me on the spot. You go next.”
You sigh and roll your eyes back to look at Choso. “You go,” you drift the attention to him. “I’ll go after. Remember, you don’t have to think too hard.”
Choso holds your gaze and lets out a deep breath before he spares a short glance at the others. “Well, I suppose the worst thing would be losing my sight. I wouldn’t be able to see the ones I love.”
You grin and nod. “Sweet,” you compliment him.
“A lot more humble than Satoru over there,” Shoko teases.
“Mhm-mm.”
“It's true, I can’t lie,” Satoru simply says.
“Whatever,” you interject and look back at your husband. “Now the next question.”
Choso nods softly and drops his head to hide the blush furiously growing on his cheeks. “Well this will be sappy, but I would like to make it to the twin's appointment scheduled in January. I want to hear their heartbeats, and I want to see if they’re growing okay.”
You flash him a toothy grin and can’t help but grab his arm to extend it out over you so you can nuzzle against it. “I love that response.” You coo, making him look at you and smile.
“Now you,” Shoko nudges your legs.
You smirk at the ceiling and immediately respond to the first question. “The worst thing that could happen is losing my hair. I love my white hair,” you share. “And I enjoy maintaining it.”
“Now how—”
“Shut up,” you cut your brother off before he can say some judgy remark. “Now, something I want to do, easy, ice skate!” You exclaim. “The lake freezes to the point you can ice skate on it in the winter, so that’s something I hope I can do.”
“If only you had the ability to do that,” Satoru mutters.
You sigh and nod. “If only. I’m a good Ice skater.”
Who are you kidding? Suguru would always need to hold your hand. But you like to pretend you can ice skate like those figure ice skaters on TV!
“Choso,” Satoru calls out, causing said man to stiffen and snap his eyes across from him—“I have an idea for a baby name. If there’s a boy, name him Satoru the Second!”
You pass Choso an amused look and just smile to wait for his response.
“Well,” Choso lets out slowly. “Y/N and I already decided that we aren’t going to name the twins after anyone we know.”
“And he doesn’t like it,” you interject for him.
Satoru looks over with a pointed gaze and Choso nods. “And I don’t like it,” he admits, making you laugh.
Satoru stays quiet so you nudge Shoko with your toe to remind him of who will take that name. “Plus Shoko’s cat will be named that.”
In Satoru’s silence, he chooses to take off his sock and throw it over at you. And since he doesn’t miss, the sock hits your face.
“What the—”
When you realize what hit you you start gagging dramatically, causing Satoru to burst out laughing. Which does trigger you, so you swiftly climb off the bench.
“Here we go,” Shoko mutters and watches you get ahold of Satoru’s hair and arm to drag him off the hammock so you can start hitting him.
Rather than trying to defend himself, Satoru starts laughing maniacally.
“Don’t worry,” Shoko tells Choso as he watches you and your brother with concern over the way you both act—“he usually doesn’t fight back. When he does it’s just playful.”
“Hm.”
“I told you I hate when you do that, why do you have to be such a boy!” You remark as you start shaking him.
The back door opens without you realizing and Yuji, Hakari, Kirara, and Kashimo walk out to see what’s going on.
“My money is on y/n,” you catch someone say. And when you look over your shoulder you see that it was Hakari.
“There’s nothing to bet on,” you say and let Satoru go to step back. “I’m done.” You huff and straighten out your sweater before you turn on your heels. “Now why don’t we go start dinner? And maybe watch something in the meanwhile.”
You walk off and Yuji mumbles, “that’s why I’m glad I don’t have a sister.”
Satoru chuckles. “She’s just easy to piss off.”
How is it easy to avoid thinking about the bad things that are going to happen? Is it because you’re already anticipating it and you know there’s no way around it?
Is that why it was so easy to enjoy the rest of the evening as if the next day you aren’t going to watch Satoru fight the strongest Sorcerer in history, or even participate in fighting that enemy yourself too?
Because it was easy, forgetting, making good memories with Kirara and Hakari, bonding with Choso and Yuji, and mending your relationship with Shoko and Satoru—oh, and forming a new friendship with Kashimo.
It was great, sweet, and for a minute, for a while, for a sweet moment you started to believe that nothing was going to happen, but then when the silence intervened while you were in bed it all came rushing back.
However, you keep trying to avoid it. “What will we tell the twins, or any of our other potential children when they ask how we met?” You can’t help but ask Choso while you get your gaze lost on the ceiling, and he closes his eyes.
“Oh yeah we met in Shibuya,” you pretend to quote lightheartedly. “Your father tried to kill me?”
“You were in my way,” he deadpans, making you pick your head off the pillow to turn it and look at him with an amused smile.
“Oh really? How romantic,” you coo. “But we can also say it this way; I saw your father when he was facing your uncle Satoru, he looked back at me and I said wow what a handsome man. It was love at first sight.”
Choso scoffs and peels one eye open to look at you with a slight smile.
You shrug and lean towards him to rest your hand on his chest and start caressing his skin under the blanket. “What?” You probe. “It was either you or volcano head. But he had anger issues, so maybe your father.”
Choso now peels both eyes open and shoots you a faint pointed look.
You laugh and go on messing with him. “Albeit considering his last choice in a romantic partner I think I wouldn't be his type—Ah!” You snap your fingers. “My brother could’ve been his type, he could’ve lived out his gay fantasy with Suguru’s body.”
Choso snorts.
“Should we send your father a card that says “congratulations you’re going to be a grandfather?” You ask Choso as a joke.
However, he can’t see it so lightheartedly. “No,” he mutters. “I won’t tell him anything. I won’t tell our kids about him either unless they ask. He deserves no recognition from me or my family.”
Your smile turns faint and you slither your hand up to cup his cheek and tilt his head your way. “After tomorrow he hopefully won’t be a problem anymore. I’ll bring you his brain so you can burn it or squish it, I don’t know. But tomorrow all he’ll be is a bad memory. I swear.”
The corner of Choso’s lips tug to a smile and he grabs your hand and plants a kiss on the heel of your hand before he whispers. “I know you’ll take care of it.”
He didn’t say it but you knew his father still being alive stresses him out because of the babies you’re expecting. Neither of you know what to expect from Kenjaku, especially if he were to find out his eldest son was expecting twins, and Choso fears that his father would somehow hurt you and in turn hurt your twins just to hurt him.
“Now,” you smoothly change the subject. “What will we tell our kids?”
Choso smiles softly. “The truth about how we met. I am not ashamed to say that I lost against you.”
You giggle and lean in closer to talk against his lips. “I told you I did not want to kill you, and good thing I didn't. Look at us.”
“Hm,” he coos softly. “Albeit Shibuya isn’t when we met for the first time. We met last year when you picked up my capsule.”
You hold his gaze and feel your smile soften as you grow enamored. “That’s right,” you whisper.
“But I suppose we can keep that story to ourselves,” he says and presses his forehead against yours.
“Choso,” you murmur as you’re lost in the intimacy of the moment. “I'm scared for tomorrow. I…don’t want to lose my brother, or you, or anyone else. I don’t want to go into tomorrow because it means we’ll have to face that unavoidable battle.”
Choso sighs and keeps you pressed against him. “I’m sorry I can’t reassure you that everyone will live because I don’t know tomorrow, but…doesn’t it make you feel better to know that everyone, especially your brother, will fight bravely to bring some form of peace?”
“I don’t want to be used to losing people,” you admit with a stinging throbbing in your throat. “I don’t want to be alone.”
You pull back and face him with your eyes gleaming with tears and your lips formed into a soft frown. If he could explain this expression he’d say it was a beautiful sadness, one poets would write sonnets about, a beautiful sadness artists would paint on their canvas.
“You won’t be alone,” he whispers to try and assure you.
“Do you swear?” You make a stupid promise out of fear. And he hesitates knowing he should let you down and not feed into your illusion, but he can’t help it when you look at him with those eyes full of tears.
“I swear.”
Choso wipes away the tears that slip down your cheeks and leans in to press a gentle kiss on your lips.
You kiss him back slowly to cherish that sweet taste of his lips before you try to sleep.
Will it come easy though?
Considering your current state you do feel that sometimes you get more exhausted a lot sooner so it lets you fall asleep fast, but what about this night?
You can feel your mind racing. It’s loud and annoying, and it makes you toss and turn, so you try and find the best position.
But you can’t!
So after a while, you open your eyes. However, instead of waking up in your room and looking at the ceiling, you wake somewhere else, but not somewhere strange….
You’re looking out some windows watching the rain fall, and hearing its gentle melody as it hits the earth outside the cozy and warm room you’re in. You don’t hear Choso’s gentle snores or the silence of the night outside your bedroom windows.
So where are you exactly?
You’re almost too afraid to look around, but you can’t stay in the dark forever so you slowly start turning your head, but you come to a quick stop when you see your long-dead best friend Haibara.
“This rain ruins our plans, but staying here and just hanging out is a good alternative,” he interjects and startles you. “Good thinking, y/n.”
You part your lips to respond but only a small gasp of air comes out.
“Staying indoors drove her insane,” Nanami, yes, that’s Nanami, he quips. And when you snap your head in the direction where his voice comes from you see him too, young in appearance just like Haibara, and wearing only part of his school uniform. He’s lounging indoors so his coat is off.
“Nanamin,” you mutter in disbelief.
Said man shoots you a pointed look and snaps back. “I told you to stop calling me that.”
You share a breathless laugh and stare at him for a lingering moment before someone else steals all your attention.
Suguru. He’s young Just like the other two. His hair is short and in a bun, he also isn’t as muscular. He’s his high school self. They all are.
“Suguru,” you whisper happily
Said man’s dark eyes fall on you and he looks at you perplexed before he raises the mugs in his hands. “Don’t worry It’s how you like it. I didn't forget. Now come on, sit with me before Satoru takes your spot.”
“Please refrain from fighting tonight,” Nanami already pleads in annoyance.
“Okay,” you go along with this…dream? Your surroundings aren’t clear, but they’re not too blurry either so that’s what makes it hard to tell. All you know is that this isn’t real. But you want it to be.
“…and I said that sounds stupid,” the voice of your brother begins to travel out the hall, so you stand up and quickly take a seat next to Suguru and let him hand you your cup of tea.
“What?” He asks as he doesn't need to ask you what you’re feeling. He sees your confusion and the anguish on your face.
“Where am I?” You have to ask.
However, Suguru laughs softly. “Here,” he retorts.
“Hm.”
Well, that wasn’t helpful whatsoever.
“…then please share any ideas you have,” you hear Shoko exclaim out of frustration before she and your brother walk into the room.
“Well,” Satoru stammers. “I will get back to you on that, but that beginning is stupid.”
Wait…you remember this now—or parts of this. This is some kind of memory. Only it’s a dream and memory hybrid, your mind is playing tricks on you while you sleep.
“Make some room!” Satoru exclaims and rushes over towards Suguru and you, but Suguru wraps his arm around you and pulls you towards him to close the gap between the two of you before Satoru can squeeze in between.
“No, sit by Shoko or Nanami—”
“No,” Nanami cuts him off before he can finish. “You move too much Satoru, sit somewhere else.”
You watch them all in awe, without saying a single word. You’re just too amazed by the power your mind holds as you try to avoid even thinking about what’s to come. It’s like it’s building you an escape.
“Y/N,” Satoru calls out and sits up with a smirk on his face. “Do you want to hear the start of our partner presentation?”
You make no remark like you did in that real day, years ago, this time you smile and nod. Even if your brother is alive, you still look at him and answer with starstruck wonder. “Yes, go ahead.”
Satoru parts his lips and draws in a breath to speak, but he then shuts his mouth and lowers his shades to narrow his gaze on you.
“No remarks?” He points out. “What's wrong with you?”
Your smile falls and that anguish is clear as day on your face for everyone to see.
“Is this about tomorrow?” Haibara asks the right question.
“Choso is right,” Suguru catches you by surprise by interjecting. “Isn’t it enough to know everyone will fight bravely for peace?”
You instinctively look down at your hand and see your engagement ring and your wedding band on your finger and think about the man you love beyond the tether of this dream. You think about forcing yourself to wake up to cuddle against him and find comfort in his presence, his warmth, and the sound of his heart beating, but as you take a look at all your friends, your brother, and Suguru, your sorrow heightens and you find a stronger need to stay.
But, you can’t hold in the truth hiding inside you a moment longer as you do stay in your fantasy dream. “I’m just…tired,” you confess and drop your head. “I’m tired of fighting, and I’m tired of grieving. I…don’t want to lose any more people I love. I don’t want to fight. I’m tired. Can’t I just stay here?”
“No,” Shoko immediately says back. “Not when people are relying on you.”
“And not when those relying on you are the same people you said you were fighting a future for,” Suguru interjects and steals your breath as you remember that truth.
Fighting for the future of the next generation was always present, but through your fear of losing the ones you love and ending up alone, your goals were clouded. Now though, it’s like getting splashed by cold water, but…you don’t want to let go of Suguru, Nanami, or Haibara now.
“But if I go I won’t see either of you again,” you share in a quivering voice and lift your head to look back at your friends, but as you do, you gasp when you see the top half of Nanami’s body is gone, like when you found him that night. And just like then it’s terrifying now. So you snap your head away, but then you come across Haibara gushing blood out of his giant gash on his torso, causing memories of his death to violently flash through your mind.
Memories that you don’t want to live through again so shut your eyes and turn your head away.
“Y/N?” Suguru asks and grabs your shoulder.
Albeit you don’t respond, you know better. You can’t look and relive the worst day of your life.
“Look at me, darling,” he tries to persuade you to open your eyes. “It’s okay.”
You just need to wake up.
Just wake up.
“Look,” Suguru calls out again and slides his hand up to cup your cheek. “It’s okay.”
It’s the softness of his voice, a voice you miss that makes you slowly open your eyes.
Alas just like before you’re struck with horror when you see Suguru’s arm missing and his wound bleeding, and half of his face covered in blood with one eye unable to open.
“This is fake!” You shout and shut your eyes. “This is a dream!”
It’s all fake, you keep repeating to yourself. It’s a dream.
You just need to open your eyes.
Open your eyes, open your eyes!
“Y/N?” A different voice calls, rougher than the rest, clearer too, so you slowly open your eyes and the first thing you see is Choso, and then you notice you’re in the dark in your shared room.
“Choso,” you say breathlessly.
A few beams of light from outside casts in so you’re able to see the deep concern on his face. “Are you okay? You were crying and jumping.” He says.
You process that you’re safe and no longer in your dream so you take a deep breath first before you nod and assure Choso. “Yeah, it’s just a bad dream. The anxiety of tomorrow got to me, sorry.”
Choso shakes his head softly. “It’s okay, just go back to sleep, okay? I’m here.”
You offer him a gentle smile and pull the blanket up to your chin. “Goodnight, Cho,” you whisper.
He smiles tiredly at you and redirects your comment. “Goodnight.”
You keep a distance since you know it’ll take a while to fall back asleep after your nightmare and you don’t want to disturb him. Which is annoying for you because you hate having a hard time sleeping. It just makes the night terribly long, and the shadows like to mess with you when you can’t fall asleep fast.
Albeit this time you don’t mind because you watch Choso sleeping on his side, and realize perhaps you were too quick to pick your dream over reality. The reality of your husband's soft and small lashes resting on his purple-tinted under eyes, his dark brown hair falling over his face, and his relaxed lips is better than any dream.
You honestly could stay up all night just watching him sleep, he looks beautiful just peaceful resting, but you can’t help anyone if you don’t get some shut-eye and dream anxiety-riddled dreams, so as your eyes get heavy you drag yourself towards Choso and slide your arms around him to nuzzle yourself against the warmth of his body.
He seems to feel you against him (perhaps because he’s a light sleeper) and slings his arm over your neck to cup the back of your head and press it against his chest to the point you can find comfort in the rhythm of his heartbeats, and fall asleep fast.
——
*THE NEXT DAY*
“Here,” you help your brother try and put his last robe on, but he turns back slightly and snatches it from your hand.
“Don't pamper me, I'm not a child,” he snaps and slides on a white robe that completes his outfit for the fight against Sukuna.
You raise your hands in your defense and step back whilst you mutter, “I’m sorry.”
Satoru sighs and turns to face you with a reassuring look. “Are you really doubting me that much?” He says.
You scoff and shake your head. “No!” You defend yourself. “I'm just worried that’s all. Can’t I?”
Satoru shakes his head and smirks as he rests his hand on his hip. “No, I’m strong. I’m the strongest, I will win.”
You hold his gaze and can’t get rid of the worry, it’s too deeply tangled in your heart. But his overconfidence does make you smile with some ease.
“Besides I plan to witness all nine months of your pregnancy, who knows, maybe me and Choso will become good friends,” he says lightheartedly. “And I do want to meet my nieces or nephews, or whatever comes out of you.”
You laugh softly at his comment, but you can’t stay comfortably reassured for long, your face falls and expresses your fear for his life. Satoru notices and no matter how hard he tries to ignore your anguish that made his heart hurt, he can’t when you look so fearful and worried. It’s the brother in him that can’t keep ignoring it.
“Look,” he whispers and closes the gap between you to grab your cheeks. “I’ll fight hard. I’ll give him all I got and make it back. I’ll win.”
“I have faith you will,” you make yourself known. “But…I get scared thinking of living my life without my brother.”
Satoru swallows thickly knowing he can’t genuinely promise he will live. And he most of all can’t make the same promise he made to you when you were little kids.
“I will fight hard to win,” he says because that's all he can offer you.
“You swear?” You ask in a shaky voice.
Satoru nods. “I swear.”
You muster a wobbly smile and then quickly throw your arms around him to hold him in an embrace. “I love you,” you remind him.
Satoru hugs you back and squeezes you gently as he whispers back. “I love you too.”
You hug him tighter hoping that by some miracle you won’t have to let go.
But you do, and when you pull away you do so slowly.
“Kill that bastard,” you say with more confidence.
Satoru smirks and nods. “I will.”
You draw out a deep breath as you hold his gaze as if trying to memorize every detail of his bright blue eyes, and his face for just in case.
“Y/N,” he mumbles with a soft smile. “Promise you’ll be happy. Live your life and don’t stop living it because of me. Be what our parents couldn't be to you, to your kids, and just be happy. That’s all I want for you.”
You draw in a shaky breath but you stop yourself from shedding tears and instead smile at him and nod.
“Now come on,” he adds teasingly. “I don’t want to be late.”
You huff and shoot him a judgy look before you walk out of the room, not realizing he had lingered behind with Utathime and old man Gakuganji until you reach the top of the stairs and realize that no one is behind you.
The room below you though doesn’t seem to care that you aren’t Satoru, they all fall silent and tense as they know they’re moments away from seeing the man who could defeat a great evil or be destroyed by him.
And knowing you have everyone’s attention, you don’t show your ever-so-growing anxiety and instead show your students below a serious confidence that only adds more tension to the already tense room.
Which is why the silence isn’t broken when you descend the stairs. Besides, your students and the others seem to be brainstorming hard about something. They almost look mischievous.
“What are they up to?” You ask Choso when you reach him.
Choso follows your line of gaze and shrugs. “I don’t know, they've been discussing something for a while now.”
“Maybe they’re planning their escape,” Shoko adds lightheartedly. “I wouldn’t blame them—Now how was it? Your face is not pampered in tears.”
“As much I did want to cry, I’m holding strong,” you tell her. “Oh, and my father called Satoru. He didn’t say I love you but he said he wished him the best which is pretty much the same thing in his terms.”
“Why isn’t your family here? Shouldn’t they be here to help?” Choso asks.
You scoff in amusement. “This is above the big families, you’ll hear from them when the winner emerges.”
“Gojo!” Yuji calls out and quickly turns your attention to him only to see your brother walking down with a serious mug on his face that is almost intimidating.
“Your cursed technique is in the way!” Yuji adds, making the corner of your brother's lips fall to a partial frown for a lingering minute before he laughs and grins.
“Give it your best shot!” He exclaims happily and points to his back.
Yuji runs up to Satoru and grins as he pats his back. The other students ease up and smile now that Satoru loses his serious mug and smiles with glee. They actually proceed to pat his back and encourage him to do his best now too, which only seems to make your brother happier. And it’s something you can’t help but smile at too.
And you keep a hold of that smile as your brother gets closer to leaving. As much as your anguish wants to display on your face, you don’t let it, you encourage Satoru one last time with your bright smile
“Win Gojo!” Someone yells out from the crowd of sorcerers which is then followed by more words of encouragement.
“If it gets too rough I’ll tag you out!”
“Salmon!”
“Prove to us that you’re more than just a pretty face!”
“Go get him stupid blindfold!”
Satoru grins brightly and responds to the crowd, “Roger that.”
A shaky breath escapes you, but you hook your arm around Choso’s and keep smiling, noticing that Choso even offers your brother a genuine encouraging smile
“We’ll be watching,” you take your time to chime in too. “So do your best to kill that bastard. We believe in you Satoru!”
Said man’s gaze drifts to you and he holds your gaze for a moment before he offers you a much more softer smile and then leaves.
Now it’s a matter of time before Mei-Mei’s ravens display him on the multitude of screens in the center of the room. And every second leading up to that moment the more you feel your chest tighten.
“He’ll win,” Choso tries to comfort you. “He’s strong.”
You swallow thickly and nod softly in acknowledgment.
“Y/N,” Shoko calls out and makes her way to you through the crowd gathering around the screens.
“Hm?”
When your friend reaches you you notice a travel cup in her hand. “This is for you,” she says and hands you the cup.
“Me?” You ask and tilt the cups top your way. “Is it alcohol? I could use some.” you snicker, making Choso side-eye you.
“I'm joking,” you tell him with a teasing smile before you look at your friend in confusion. “But really what is this?”
“Lemon balm tea. For the stress. You’re so early on in your pregnancy and stress will make your blood pressure spike which affects the babies, so I thought this could help relax just some nerves.”
“Oh,” you gasp softly and share a happy look with Choso before you can’t help but smile at Shoko.
“Thank you,” you tell her in return. “This is actually a great idea.”
Shoko returns a softer smile and then goes serious when her eyes fall on Choso beside you. “Choso, if anything happens and she’s distraught, being with her and helping her breathe will help, okay? I’ll be around anyway, but I wouldn’t want you to feel helpless at the moment.”
Your breath catches in your throat at the mention, but you can’t contradict her because it can happen. Besides, Choso seems to be relieved to have been given advice.
“Thank you, Ieiri. I appreciate it,” Choso tells her with a half smile.
“Of course.”
Now to sit around the screens. You feel like not watching all together, but you can’t avoid it so you sit in between Choso and Yuji in front of the bunch of screens and wait for the moment your brother appears.
Yet waiting is agonizing. The screens aren’t black, Mei-Mei has her birds flying around the abandoned city streets waiting for Satoru to make his first attack, but that does nothing to calm down your nerves. You actually don’t realize you have your jaw clenched and your fists tightened until a warm hand gently covers your fist. When you look over, Choso passes you a comforting look.
“I’m here,” he says softly and with so much endearment. “I’ll hold your hand for the entirety of the fight.”
Your heart swoons at his kind words, and your body quickly eases at the comfort of his touch, letting him intertwine his fingers with yours and pull your hands toward his lap.
“I’m glad you’re here,” you tell him from the bottom of your heart, making Choso smile before he interjects.
“If you start feeling bad, just let me know, we can go get some fresh air.”
You nod and then look over at Yuji beside you, noticing that he looks just as tense as you had been moments ago.
Now you won’t hold his hand like Choso is holding yours, but you try to be comforting. “One way or another Sukuna is going to die today and we will save your friend.”
Yuji’s eyes flicker to you and you now realize how similar his brown eyes are to Choso’s.
“I know, I believe that. Like I also believe today won’t be Gojo’s end,” Yuji rebuttals confidently.
“I like your thinking,” you compliment and then see his eyebrows knit with a flicker of concern.
“You’ll be okay, right? Watching this won't stress you out, or you know the twins?”
You smile wider with appreciation and honestly shrug. “I hope not, but Choso and I are taking precautions either way. Thank you for worrying.”
He flashes you a warm smile and before you can add anything else finally your brother starts to appear on majority of the screens.
“Nine points,” you hear him say with his eyes laser-focused, and his legs bent as he chants to use his technique. “Polarized light. Crow and Shomyo chant. The gap between and without.”
You swallow back nervously and tighten your hold on Choso’s hand.
A couple of fast seconds feel like an eternity as you wait for him to complete his chant.
“Hollow technique: purple,” Satoru finishes and puts one arm out to flick out his bright and powerful purple technique that blinds each and every screen, and deafens every sound with the immense power of his technique.
Minutes later when Mei-mei’s birds finally recuperate their sight all you see is dust and rubble cascading down, creating a mess on the street that Satoru walks down on to finally meet up with Sukuna.
Finally, the strongest sorcerer of the new era and the strongest sorcerer in history face each other and you don’t fail to notice that Sukuna is already healing his hands that had been destroyed by Satoru’s first attack. And seeing that makes you smirk.
“Seems you have the wrong idea here,” Satoru breaks the tense silence between the two sorcerers. “So let me just set things straight. You’re the challenger here.”
Sukuna’s gaze narrows before he spats. “Damned brat. I’m the challenger? You seem pretty pleased with yourself for only landing a surprise attack.”
Shouldn’t he be pleased that he caught the great Sukuna off guard and landed the first strike?
“You are but a fish atop my chopping board Satoru Gojo,” Sukuna continues and seems to just sound like a sore loser. “A bit fresher than others but still just a nameless fish. Let’s start off by peeling off those scales,” he says and imbues his hands with his cursed energy as he shifts one foot out to stand in his fighting stance.
“Let me ask you, why are you still wearing that face?” Satoru says back as he starts peeling off his scarf and his robe which leads you to mentally question yourself why he even bothered to dress so fancy if he was just going to take it off?
“You thought I’d hold back if you looked like that? Unfortunately for you, I’ve been doing some special training,” Satoru says and cracks his knuckles. “And since it’s Megumi, I know I can go all out,” he adds before his cursed energy explodes out and imbues his fists. “You’ve managed to survive death once already while you were in Yuji. So I’ve been thinkin’ I’ll worry about Megumi after I kill you.”
Your face flashes on a small smile before you frown as you catch Sukuna lunge at Satoru with a kick. However, Satoru blocks his first strike and counters with a swing.
Sukuna mirrors his action, but Satoru falls on his back to flick his hand out and send a strong hit that sends Sukuna through a wall.
The ravens broadcasting the fight don’t falter and catch Sukuna crashing through multiple walls until finally, he manages to land on a couple of stairs. But since your brother is fast he catches Sukuna off guard by appearing in front of him and kicking him back onto a bridge. Albeit since it wasn’t such a strong hit, Sukuna finds his footing quickly.
Satoru, though, doesn’t let him catch his breath, your brother jumps in the air and breaks off the piece of the bridge Sukuna is on with his technique before he sends it over to crash against a nearby building.
However, you catch Sukuna using his raw strength to push himself off the surface of the bridge and bounce onto the roof of a different building before zooming off and facing Satoru.
“Dismantle,” Sukuna announces and points his finger at your brother.
But, instead of his attack hitting your brother, the strike hits a building behind him and slices off half of it. Your brother gets surprised and looks back at what missed him and is now sending down half of a tower. Sukuna tries to catch Satoru off guard and pushes himself towards your brother when he’s looking back, but Satoru blocks his swing. Actually Sukuna’s fist doesn’t even hit him thanks to Satoru's technique, his fist only makes contact when Satoru grabs his fist and sends him through the falling building.
You then watch your brother follow after him, and the birds catch when Satoru grabs a floating door and hurls it at Sukuna to block the sight of him. You then wait for the next attack, but dust clouds the sight of every bird, and the sound of the building crashing booms out through every speaker, losing sight and sound of the fighters for a moment until you see Satoru and Sukuna walking out of the cloud of dust ever so casually, like if they aren’t trying to kill one another.
How odd.
“I’m gonna go ahead and pin this on you,” you hear your brother say as they watch the mess they’re already making.
“Who are you to say anything,” Sukuna mutters.
As if remembering that you’re all watching his battle, Satoru catches sight of one of Mei-Mei’s birds and looks surprised.
“Gojo’s limitless allows him to be completely untouchable,” Choso breaks the tense silence that filled the room, breaking your attention away from the screens to watch him as he spoke. “Sukuna is using domain amplification to neutralize his cursed technique. Domain amplification,” he repeats that last bit with what sounds to be surprise.
“I saw something similar in Mechamaru’s footage,” Okkotsu follows by saying. “That special grade cursed spirit used the same method in Shibuya to counter limitless.”
“It does seem that Gojo’s domain has been neutralized,” Hakari agrees before he follows up with a question. “But how?”
“It’s a more refined version of a simple domain,” Kusakabe answers. “By sheathing yourself in a domain without imbuing your own cursed technique, you allow your opponent's technique to flow into that empty space, thereby neutralizing it.”
“Can you do that Kusakabe?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, ‘course I can’t,” he spats back.
“The main drawback to domain amplification is that you can’t simultaneously use your own innate technique,” Angel interjects, making Panda cut in with a question.
“Wait doesn’t that mean Sukuna is fighting Satoru without a cursed technique?”
“Yes,” Angel responds. “Even Sukuna is no exception to this rule. So in other words, if Sukuna has some way to deal with limitless other than domain amplification Gojo will lose.”
You sigh and avert your gaze.
“If that’s the case,” Miwa shares her own thoughts. “Why isn’t Sukuna using Domain expansion?”
“It’s easy to say that,” you tell her and pull your eyes off the ground to look over at her. “But depending on the outcome of that domain battle, the fight would be over.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” She asks and briefly meets your gaze before you look over at Kirara as they cut in with worry.
“That’s true! Why isn’t he doin’ that?!”
“Doesn’t the domain's sure hit effect negate Satoru’s technique in the first place?” Kirara follows up by saying, making Yuji respond.
“He told me that himself when we were in a cursed spirits domain.”
“Could it be that Sukuna doesn’t think he can win against Satoru Gojo in a domain battle?” Ui-Ui, Mei-Mei’s brother asks the crowd.
“No.” You shake your head, and Shoko bounces in to continue for you.
“If that were the case, Gojo would already be using domain expansion. I’d find it hard to believe that Gojo wouldn't be able to see that, with the six eyes and his shitty personality.”
You crack a soft smile whilst Choso crosses his arms over his chest and tucks your hand between his arms to keep your hand connected with his.
“What if their domains don’t actually clash?” Choso questions. “Based on what Inumaki and Yuji have said, I don’t think Sukuna’s domain expansion actually closes off a barrier.”
“Huh?!” Kusakabe gasps. “Bullishit.”
“I can't believe that,” Kashimo mutters.
“That’s insane,” Hakari says, and Okkotsu cuts in too.
“That’s absurd right?”
“Oh!” Miwa exclaims. “Is it that crazy?”
“Miwa toss me that water,” you hear Kusakabe order the girl around, and when she does toss him a bottle he stops her and complains.
Does he want the water in a cup with an umbrella on it or what?
It’s a good thing Miwa throws the water on his face, why is he being so picky about it?
“Expanding a domain without closing a barrier is just like that,” Mei-Mei uses what just happened as an example. “With no container, can water accumulate? Can you paint on empty air without a canvas? With no stem, roots, or leaves, can a flower bloom from a seed? It’s like using software without any hardware. At any rate, it’s completely impossible!”
“Megumi’s incomplete domain wasn’t enclosed within a barrier though,” Maki points out.
“I heard about that before the grade promotion assessment,” Kusakabe says. “Still, to do that he needed buildings or existing barriers to enclose his domain. That’s small potatoes compared to what’s going on now.”
“But Noritoshi Kamo—Kenjaku,” Choso corrects himself as he interjects to explain something. “…Managed to pull it off.”
You nod and chime in too. “We had planned for Yuki to counter his domain expansion with a simple domain while Tengen dismantled it from the outside.”
“However,” Choso bounces in. “The simple domain was torn apart in the blink of an eye, but if she had expanded her own domain.”
“It wouldn't have been a true domain battle,” you argue. “Though perhaps if she had expanded her own domain. There may have been a battle for Yuki’s sure-hit effect.”
“But what exactly would clash?” Choso asks.
You shrug. “Who knows.”
“Isn’t it literally against the sure-hit effect?” Miwa asks curiously.
“Given that the Sure-hit effect is imbued within the barrier itself,” you answer her. “It can only clash with another barrier.”
“You guys’re talking about their domains as if it’s a given, but that stuff devours an insane amount of cursed energy doesn’t it?” Ino breaks his silence to ask. “So shouldn’t they avoid usin’ it up thoughtlessly?”
“Fish flakes,” Inumaki says, and somehow Okkotsu understands him enough to bounce off his comment.
“It’s just as Inumaki says there’s no limit to Gojo’s cursed energy.”
“But that’s only because of how freakin’ efficient he is,” Ino continues to say. “His cursed energy consumption ends up being less than what he naturally replenishes overtime. But isn’t that working under the assumption he’s using it like normal? If he starts using domain expansion over ‘n over again consecutively, it’ll be a different story. And Sukuna?”
“He’s unreal,” Kashimo sneers. “The sharpness of his techniques activation, the way he can turn on a dime from using amplification to his innate technique…if Satoru Gojo didn’t have the six eyes, Sukuna would likely be winning in terms of efficiency in utilizing cursed energy.”
You sigh in frustration at all that’s being said, and Okkotsu interjects. “What's more, his total cursed energy is even more than mine. Going purely off intuition, I’d say by more than double. In other words, when it comes to these two, cursed energy is not the limiting factor for why they aren’t expanding their domains.”
“Maybe it’s just that nobody, not even the two of them, knows exactly how this is gonna play out,” Nishimiya says. “If Satoru Gojo and Sukuna Ryomen’s domains were to clash, who knows what would happen.”
“Hey,” Higuruma calls for everyone’s attention. “Here it comes.”
You look back at the screen after hearing the discussion and catch both Sukuna and Satoru doing a domain expansion at the exact same time, cutting off all sight of them as a large domain traps them both inside.
“They’re evenly matched,” you point out and stand up as if that would help you catch sight of your brother from within the domain. “Within the barrier, they are evenly matched.”
Nevertheless, parts of Sukuna’s domain literally starts branching out of Satoru’s domain.
“The barrier of a domain is weak against attacks from the outside!” Yuji yells out and moments later the domain explodes and all you see is Sukuna’s domain, and your brother facing him from the ground with shock.
“Come on,” you plead quietly and hold your hands together.
From one moment to the next a slash hits Satoru on his throat, right on his jugular! And you know most of all that any hit there can be deadly.
“Satoru!” You yell out with panic and fear for your dear brother's life.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N- Don’t worry we’ll have flashbacks and other stuff so it’s not just watching the fight lmao!
Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina
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nerdyjournals · 3 months
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Flowers have sad meanings too
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Florist!Y/N
Many believe that working in a flower shop is all gumdrops and rainbows, but it's not. It's stories of heartbreak and sadness. I wish I could remember their names, but I can't grieve every one of them. No matter how hard I try.
Author's Note: 3/8 of these mini tales are based on encounters I have had while working in my field. They are INSPIRED and not exact.
DISCLAIMER: ANY SIMILARITIES THESE ENTRIES HAVE TO A PERSON, PLACE, EVENT, OR SITUATION IS COINCIDENTAL AND NOT INTENDED TO MIMIC ANYONE.
WARNING: THIS PIECE TOUCHES ON DEATH AND ITS AFFECTS, SUBJECTS OF DEPRESSION, AND ASSUMED SU1C1D3. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SUBJECTS LIKE THESE, PLEASE SKIP THIS POST.
Boy #1
He was a boy with his whole life ahead of him. His mother said that he was very protective of his siblings, so protective that it's what took him.
She said it was a break in, one that happened in the dead of night. She never heard it. All she heard was the sound of her daughter screaming for help as her husband tackled the man to the floor. She didn't even hear the gun go off.
He was on his way to college in the fall, full ride. He was very talented. They hope to release his works down the road, but for now, some things stay locked away. Not because they're bad or sad, but because the grief was too fresh.
Boy #2
He was an interesting story. A quiet kid that everyone thought was mean, but was a very sweet guy and an only child. He loved animals.
His flowers were ordered by his friends because his parents were too shattered by the news. One of them couldn't keep it together, ended up telling about him. He was off volunteering to help build houses when one of them collapsed on top of him and a few others. They came out with minor injuries, but he wasn't so lucky. They spew out so many things about his kind heart but stone-like demeanor. It hurt to see that it was also his undoing.
Other families came and ordered, many of them being young kids in the dance classes he taught. Many of the kids still not understanding why their favorite teacher wasn't coming back. His parents finally arrived to order, but my heart was too fragile to be there.
Boy #3
His sister wouldn't stop talking about how he had wanted to do a lot with his life. She said that he was going to the gym everyday to get stronger. He was a gentle soul, a loving gentleman. Sickness took him far too soon.
It started off with a bad cough and a fever, she said. Then it just kept getting worse. By the time he was eighteen, he was fully living in his hospital room. It broke her heart to see how he dwindled away until he was almost nothing but skin and bones. She was thankful that he went in his sleep, going painlessly.
She couldn't stop repeating that she felt like a bad sister, that she should've done more to help him recover. It broke me a little more on the inside when I couldn't tell her that it wasn't up to her to fix him. I could only stay silent.
Boy #4
Only one person ordered him flowers, but it was a lot of flowers. Other than his parents, this boy received flowers from dozens of people. Friends, teachers, acquaintances - you name it. They all ordered through one person as they were the only one in town.
The pieces were extravagant, ranging from small vases to large sprays. They said that they wanted to reflect him; an artist surrounded by colors. No one knows what took him; whether self or sickness. They just found him in his studio one cold winter morning, slumped over an unfinished painting.
They said he'll have a gallery set up after the service, show off the wonders he created. I might go. If not just to see a fellow tortured soul. One day, his name will be known alongside the greats. For now, he'll be known to me.
Boy #5
His flowers were ordered over the phone by his mother, said something about it becoming too final if she stepped into the store.
I heard about this boy on the news. They found him in his car, just off the highway. He was so young, but the demons got to him before anyone else could.
I could only sit silent as she cried in my ear, blaming herself for not helping him. Little does she know the demons live in everyone. Including mine.
Boy #6
This boy was proof that the brightest smiles hide the darkest demons. His sisters couldn't hold themselves together as I flipped through the binder. The older one said that she blamed herself, saying that she should've seen the signs.
He went as he slept, passing in silence. She said that he had been bullied for years, but since he stopped talking about it, they assumed it stopped. They found him gone in the morning. I can never understand how some people find it acceptable to be so harsh to another.
They showed me his photo. He had a bright smile, one that was even wider with his family. It almost breaks my very soul that he suffered alone.
Boy #7
This was my first family order. The poor family was lost due to a faulty monoxide detector. The remaining members were in the middle of suing the landlord on top of mourning the family.
They didn't know until the son failed to show up for school for three days, unlike him they said. Same for the parents.
The boy was said to start high school next year. They were all excited since he would be attending the private school near the edge of town, one that was hard to get into without good grades. Now, the world could never see what he would amount to.
Boy #8
He was a child.
No mother should ever be allowed to outlive her baby. He was innocent, a victim of medical circumstance. They never said what he had, but they ordered him a beautiful urn display.
His younger brother, one still so small, would almost never know about the brother who left too early. His older brother was deployed, but is in an emergency flight back over to give his good byes.
A child...goodness.
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dominicsorel · 2 years
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Not really one to articulate what I’m thinking the best but I did want to discuss this at base level at the very least because it’s a feeling I’m quite familiar with. I didn’t think as much into it when I was a kid myself. Probably because I felt it was only natural to want the things Sora and Riku did. I wasn’t happy, after all.
Sora and Riku going to the play island to “get away” from their home as far as they can go is REALLY sad...and Riku saying the adults won’t let them go alone until their older hints to me more than just “wishing for independence”. It makes me wonder just WHY they want to be independent at such a young age- not to say it’s uncommon for kids to think this way in general but bare with me and remember what I said at the start.
Like not to say this to me is a red flag that something happened to Sora and Riku that made Riku want to get Sora and him out of there and is part of why Sora is interested in leaving as well but...yeah, it’s exactly that. Why is it that Sora and Riku want to leave their hometown (world, whatever) this badly? Because we know why Kairi wants to stay, why Kairi feels the way she does. Trauma, grief, a need for connection, something to hold onto, something to go back to when things get too scary or hard to deal with. Makes perfect sense!
But what started to seed the desire to leave for the other two of the Destiny Island kids and what made it their very goal at the start of KH1 and what makes them keep choosing to leave it despite any of the nostalgia surrounding it and an idealized wish for simpler and peaceful times?
We see Riku in flashbacks telling Sora that one day they’ll get away from all this and go on real adventures and stop being treated like kids which...strangely now sounds more reassuring rather than some “macho” talk from a little kid. It really sounds like he’s reassuring Sora he’ll get them out of there and then you realize...this is right after the meteor shower promise where he vowed to protect Sora, externally. What do I mean by “externally”?
The thing is we already see Riku in BBS knowing he wants to protect Sora and that he knows he can’t do it best by them both staying there so...what caused things to sprout this way? Why would Riku be so dead set on protecting Sora if there wasn’t something that could actually hurt him? It’s not just loving someone that makes you think stuff like that at such an age, it’s seeing the people you love being hurt. And how else would it make you feel as a child to be utterly incapable of doing a thing about it? Seems like your self-esteem would take a hit, over and over again. Same if you were being hurt or were hurt and couldn’t protect yourself or had to rely on someone else to do it for you. You’d probably try to overcompensate for what you think you’re missing.
Why would Kingdom Hearts spend time establishing healthy (albeit not perfect but practical) connections between these two and adult characters in their life that they only met once they leave the island? Why is Riku’s main adult support Mickey and Minnie rather...rather than his parents? Why is Sora’s main adult support Donald and Goofy rather than his parents? Why do Sora and Riku learn so much more from the adults they meet on their journeys than the ones at “home”. Terra and Aqua gave them hope that they could leave one day and a reached out hand to help make it happen. You can go on about how you think Kingdom Hearts is bad at writing relationships or whatever but it certainly has intention, even if the intention evolves as a series is going- such is the very nature of writing. Things evolve before your very eyes and older things seem different under new lenses.
And be it trauma, abuse, and/or neglect...even if by the end of the series, this isn’t brushed upon as obviously as I put it in favor of focusing on the traumas we’ve gotten to seen happen, I still believe it remains an important part of the overarching narrative and adds another layer to why Sora and Riku wanted to leave in the first place. And it’s part of why I don’t think they’ll live on the Destiny Islands in the end. They own phones now, after all. They can call their parents any time, if they wanted. But I hope they don’t.
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jennay · 6 months
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Come Back Home
Jolly x reader
An: Random idea I had that I got stuck on and required way too much help from @a-villain-vying-for-attention then decided to make her a character since she basically came up with the ideas and I wrote it. Lol thanks for being my shadow writer for times when my brain decides it's done thinking.
Words 2200
Jolly Master List
This is chunked into four sections bear with me. I hate transitional writing 😂
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"Please don't tell them. They'll just worry, and next thing you know, they'll be at my door, and it's just not the right timing for me to come back. I need to finish my work here, and it's not completely horrible. I think I just miss everyone, and I feel isolated." You admit over Facetime to your best friend, Kayla. "It just wasn't supposed to be like this. “Moving away from you guys was literally one of the worst decisions I've made."
Kayla sighs, "I don't mean to say I told you so, but I did." She laughs, "But the worst part is, Noah told you, Jolly told you, and you still just said bye bitches. Do you know how sad it is not to have you here? I have to deal with them all the time, by MYSELF."
You peel yourself off the couch, dragging your feet through the dining room and to the back door.
You brace yourself for the inevitable assault of the sun, but it still hurts like hell when you open the door and get blasted by its rays. "Fuck." You groan. "It's bright." You squint your eyes and cover them with your hand as you stumble to the camping chair you set up on your porch for such occasions. You hated the daylight. You wished you could be a nocturnal creature, but sadly, you had to pretend to be a responsible adult, even if you sucked at it.
"Wow, look at you, Dracula." She mocks you from the other side of the video call. "You look like you're about to die over there, paler than a ghost and skinnier than a twig. Do I need to come over and feed you some blood? I know it's only been six months, but I will literally come over and mother you to death. I'll bring Noah too, and we'll play house. God knows we need some practice." She flashes a big smile. "You know, for the future and all that jazz."
You laugh, shaking your head, "This is new for you!"
"Yeah, well, now I'm just working on convincing Noah that it's a good idea." She tucks her hair behind her ears. "So I need you to come back because I'm not raising these imaginary kids without their badass aunt."
You roll your eyes at her, "These kids don't even exist yet, so I think we have some time, and besides, I don't know if I'll feel any better moving back. If I have to watch HIM date other people and it not be me…well, I'd rather stay here and suffer in silence."
"Well, he's miserable without you, and why are we not using his name?" She laughs again. "Mopping and shit, constantly.”
You shrug, "I think he's probably fine. I basically threw myself at him and got no reaction. I literally slept in his bed the night before I left." You pause, growing frustrated. "Maybe we're just supposed to be friends; maybe he only sees me as a friend. That's OK. I can't be mad about that, but it always felt like there was something more, you know?"
Kayla groans loudly, "You both suck. If you would've just let me meddle, I could've set you two up."
"I don't want you to set me up! I wanted something natural." You say with all seriousness. "I wanted him to say it."
From behind Kayla, Noah pokes his head into the view, "He's dumb...guys are dumb." He gives you a face that says, duh.
"Well, now I'm here, and I can just say fuck it. I'll find someone here."
Noah's laughter rings through the speaker, "And then break up because all you're gonna do is fucking compare the two and be a whiny baby about how he's not Jolly, so you had to break up? Fuck off, y/n." He chuckles again. "Just come home."
You shake your head, "No. You will have to come to drag my dead body home before I willingly come back."
Noah grabs the phone from Kayla's hand, and you meet with wide eyes. And in a serious tone, Noah says, "Dead or not, at least you'll be home where you belong."
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Kayla, Noah, and Jolly were lounging on the couch, munching on some greasy take-out that Noah had ordered from the nearest pizza place. While Jolly was engrossed in the latest episode of Bob's Burgers, Kayla was shooting daggers at him with her eyes.
She couldn't stand the sight of him, acting like nothing was wrong, like he wasn't the reason her best friend wasn't living with them anymore.
Noah noticed his girlfriend's glare and chuckled softly, nudging her elbow with his. "Chill," he whispered in her ear.
"NO!" Kayla shouted, startling both Noah and Jolly. She slammed her food on the coffee table and turned to face Jolly with a furious expression. "I'm sick and tired of pretending like everything is fine. I want my friend back, and if this is what it takes to make you use your brain, then so be it!" She pointed an accusing finger at Jolly, who looked confused and scared. "You need to go get y/n back right now or get on the next flight to Sweden because I can't stand having you around. You make me so mad, both of you, pretending you don't care about each other. She's depressed as shit living there with her fuckin awful family, but she'd rather stay there than come home because of you!" She roughly gets off the couch and storms out of the room, heading for the stairs. "You're such an idiot," she yelled over her shoulder at Jolly.
Noah raised his eyebrows and bit his lip to stop laughing as he saw Jolly's dumbfounded face. Jolly put down his food and looked at Noah with a puzzled expression. "What did I do?" he asked innocently.
Noah shrugs and says, "I think it's more of what you didn't do…"
Kayla comes back down the stairs, holding her food in her hands. She glared at Jolly one more time and flipped him off, then walked out of the room. "Buy the damn ticket!" she screamed from the hallway.
Noah heard the door slam and shook his head. "Well," he said, standing up and grabbing his food. "There's your answer. Bring y/n home."
"How am I supposed to do that?" He loudly asks.
"I don't know but you need to figure it out, Kayla might actually kill you in your sleep."
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You grab your coat and head for the door, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for the day ahead. You were going hiking with your sister and her husband, and you couldn't wait to explore the great outdoors with them. As you glance at the clock, you groan in annoyance, realizing you're running late again. You can't help but wonder why you're always so disorganized and frazzled.
You pull the door open, taking a deep breath of fresh air as you step outside. Suddenly, you're nearly choking on air as you see a familiar face staring back at you. Jolly stands there with a backpack over his shoulder, his long hair draped over his shoulders, and a black backward hat covering the top of his head. He's dressed in black skin jeans and a deep red plaided flannel, looking effortlessly stylish and cool.
Your shock disappears as quickly as it came, replaced by annoyance at the sight of Jolly. You can't help but feel irritated that he's here, disrupting your plans for the day. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel a little bitter still.
"Hi." He quietly says, looking from you to the ground, feeling awkward. He hadn't planned what he was going to tell you.
"Can I come in?" he quietly asks.
You nod your head, stepping aside. "I was leaving, but I guess this kind of changes my plans," you say, rolling your eyes. "What are you even doing here?" You say as you follow him to the living room. "I've tried so hard not to think about you; I moved states, Jolly, and now you're at my house. Are you trying to make my life hard?" You don't sit down knowing you're too heated to stay in one place.
Jolly doesn't sit on the couch either. Instead, he sits on the armrest, staring at you with confusion and annoyance; he folds his hands in his lap and allows you to continue. Why was everyone so irritated with him? He didn't know what he did in the first place. "What did I do?" He questions.
You're eyes dart back to him. "You treated me like I was special, OK? I thought I was special to you…then, you go and date other people." You say, running out of breath. "Then I dated other people because I thought you didn't want me and I was right, you didn't care at all, but then I dumped them because all I could think about was you!" You dramatically cover your face with your hands, pacing back and forth. You enter your kitchen and stare out the sliding glass door. Your back facing Jolly as he observes you. "I stayed in your bed the night before I left, and you still let me go."
"I thought you were leaving for a job! I didn't want to be the reason you didn't go!" He whines. "You told me you were leaving for a job."
You still don't turn around to look at him, knowing he was right, "I just thought you'd ask me to stay if you really wanted me."
He stands straight, walking toward you; you feel his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him. His dark eyes scan your face, wishing he wasn't the reason you were upset.
He leans in close, his breath warm on your face. "You were always special to me," he whispers, his voice low and sincere. "I never meant to hurt you. I was just confused and scared. I didn't know how to handle my feelings for you. I was afraid of losing you, so I pushed you away. I never stopped thinking about you. I came here to tell you that. To tell you that I'm sorry. To tell you I need you."
Jolly pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness. He gently cups your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. He smiles softly, his eyes shining with hope. "Can you give me another chance?" he asks, his voice pleading.
You feel a surge of emotion, a mix of anger, pain, and love. You want to scream at him, to push him away. But you also want to hug him, to kiss him, to hold him close. You're torn between your head and your heart. You look into his eyes, and you see the sincerity and the regret.
You see the man you fell in love with, the man who made you laugh, the man who made you feel alive. You feel your resolve weakening, your walls crumbling. You lean in and press your lips to his, answering his question with a kiss.
"So I'm bringing you home." He smiles against your lips. Pulling back, his brown eyes search yours, "This long distance thing isn't how I want to start this." he gently kisses your forehead.
You nod knowingly, "I guess we should start packing."
Jolly smiles, running his hand through your hair, "I'm pretty sure Kayla has a timer set."
You giggle. "She is absolutely crazy." You lean up, kissing Jolly again. "But it's why we love her."
He nods in agreement, "Plus she's Noah's problem."
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With a cautious glance, you gently push the front door open, hoping no one will notice your arrival and ambush you as soon as you enter the house.
You sneak into the living room on your tiptoes, holding Jolly's hand.
Noah and Kayla are so engrossed in the TV show that they don't even look at you.
You pretend to be nonchalant and sit down on the recliner next to them, giving them a hard stare.
Her eyes widen as she realizes who you are, and she jumps off the couch and runs toward you. You're home! This is fucking amazing!" She screams in your ear. "I was expecting you guys to take more time, to be honest…you both suck at directions. I don't know how you managed to drive all the way back here." She laughs as she releases you from her hug and embraces Jolly instead, "Look at you. I can finally be in the same room as you without being pissed off. I'm so proud of you." She jokes with him. "Wow," She scans the room and sees the three of you together. "So, is it official now? Can we all just admit how stupid the two of you were? I mean, come on, you could have just moved down the street instead of moving two states away." She snuggles up to Noah on the couch. "I'm not going through this again. You guys have to sort things out by yourselves from now on." She says and acts like she's dismissing you.
Jolly chuckles, sitting in the recliner; he grabs you and makes you sit on his lap, catching you off guard.
You shake your head light laughter falling from your lips, "Well, I missed you too, dick."
You lean into Jolly's chest and wrap your arms around him, feeling his warmth and heartbeat. You sigh in contentment and happiness, glad to be home with the people who loved you the most.
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sapphic-woes · 10 months
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Kingmaker - Female Eivor x Reader
A/N: I wrote this for no reason in like two hours sorry. Minors DNI
Word count: 1.2k. AO3 LINK
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"They say the Queen had someone by her side when she first took Wessex back. Someone sworn to her flesh and bone."
You look up as you sweep the palace floor. The girls loved to chatter, but you couldn't blame them. There wasn't much else maids could do to pass the time. You weren't above joining in, but this was a topic you'd never heard before.
The queen was a person of reverence. She ruled righteously and was loved by all. However, she had sworn to never marry another. No matter what man or king came to win her heart, your queen stood firm…
"...because her heart already belongs to another. Her kingmaker." One girl whispers, dusting the walls.
"Are they dead?" Another asks empathetically, frowning at the thought of the queen mourning her dead lover.
"Apparently, the witan were against their love. My father said a plot was formed against them." The girl sweeping with you mutters. You perk up at that.
"A ploy?" Your question makes the girl dusting the walls (Was it Alfwood?) turn to look at you. 
"It was! My mother was in the crowd when it happened. She said the kingmaker always wore a hood, and their voice was hoarse. There, surrounded by the crowd, the witan raised their voices against a single person…
"How can you dare say you've stood with us, heathen? You are the enemy!" The head of the witan snarls, voice booming across the town square. It makes my mother jump, but the hooded figure in the midst of it all remains calm.
"Am I, Lord? The knights of Wessex know I have. I was with them from the Somerset marshes, to Edington, to all the battles that followed. Does that stand for nothing?" The hooded figure was right. My mother and everyone else knew Wessex would have fallen long ago if not for this person. So why were the witan against our savior staying?
"Yet you have tried to convert our Queen and make her worship your idols. I have seen it with my own eyes!" Another member of the witan cries, and the hooded figure pauses, as if stumped. 
The crowd fills with gasps. If the Queen turned away from God, surely Wessex would fall. My mother swallows nervously, glancing at the queen.
"She's heartbroken." Is what my mother said she thought the moment she did. She said the  young queen looked devastated.
The witan–
"Wait, devastated?" You interrupt much to everyone's annoyance. "Sorry, the queen is so stoic, and intimidating…I can't imagine her openly being sad…" Alfwood scoffs.
"Well of course, this was long before we were born. The queen now knows how to hide her emotions, but back then it was different. Anyways…"
The witan spewed insult after insult, and the crowd began to turn on the hooded figure–yet no one was interested in what the queen thought. Newly appointed, she had little power like she does now.
Her twisted expression of grief was clear as day. Surely, she did not want this. However, no one seemed to care, no one except…
"It's alright. We are bonded. You and I." Except for the hooded figure, who looked straight at the queen rather than anyone else.
"I do not apologize for following the faith of my lands. The gods have always guided me, and they shall continue to do so." Her words addressed to the witan cause a stir, yet somehow she remains focused on the queen, and her voice carries over all the other noise.
"You are the woman I could never be. Nor do I wish to be. But you are the only person who can lead this land. That is why I helped put you on the throne…because you are strong enough to stay, even when I'm gone." The queen's eyes shine, yet she doesn't cry.
"I have loved you. Despised you. Fought with and against you so many times over…" A light chuckle comes from the hooded figure. Their head twists up towards the queen, but my mother still can't see the entirety of the figure's face. She only catches vibrant blue eyes that gleam under the sun.
"But it was never less than an honor to serve you, my queen."
"…Then what happened? Did they die?" Alfwood shakes her head. 
"No, my mother said they were exiled from Wessex and never came back…but there are rumors." All the servant girls pause, including you, and Alfwood basks in the attention as she whispers.
"Like forbidden lovers, the kingmaker sneaks into the palace at night! Once a month, under the beautiful moon, with only heaven as their witness–"
"Girls! What did I say about slacking off on the job?" The head maid yells at the top of her lungs, and your little group immediately scatters. You scurry off to sweep another hall, thinking about the story you just heard.
"How romantic…" you whisper, focusing once again on your duties.
You arch your back with a soft groan. The head maid was so cruel, giving you extra work as punishment for gossiping on the job. Now you were off to put away the cleaning supplies, too lazy to light a candle as you walk the shadowy halls of the palace.
"...Please….the girls are already gossiping about it…getting caught will only add fuel to the fire–ah, Eivor!"  Your queen's voice makes you jump. What was going on? Why did she sound like that? Who was…oh.
You peek around the corner of the hallway, hands over your mouth. Your queen is pressed against her chamber's door, flushed and moaning as a hooded figure tenderly kisses her neck. Your eyes widen, blushing as you witness such intimacy…and in public nonetheless!
"Do they? Well then, why don't we give them some new material, hm?" A rough voice teasingly murmurs, and you queen laughs breathlessly. Your queen that you admired for her cool demeanor and poised manner was…smiling. She looked free, happy…and in love.
Could it be? 
The broom slips from your hand. The moment it hits the ground, blue eyes snap at you. You squeak, turning away quickly to dart down the way you came.
Blue eyes…a hoarse voice…a hooded figure…!!
— 
Eivor still stares at the end of the hallway, though you know she's just avoiding your gaze.
"...You're a greedy idiot." The Dane nods.
"I'm an opportunistic idiot. The child had no light with her, and she was as quiet as a mouse…" Her piercing gaze shifts back to you.
"...and I was focused on more important things." You can't help but smirk, wrapping your arms around Eivor's neck.
"That child will tell half the entire palace what she saw by tomorrow afternoon, and by night there will be about a hundred more rumors that follow." Eivor hums, lips tickling your jaw.
"My deepest apologies. How can I make it up to my queen?" You giggle as she peppers kisses across your body. Clumsily, you open the door of your chambers behind you, and the both of you stumble onto the bed.
"Then serve me, Eivor." You whisper as Eivor gently undresses you, gazing at the wetness between your legs. Her breaths are rugged, as are yours, and you reach up to caress the exile's face.
"Show me again why you're my kingmaker."
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atlasscrumpit · 7 months
Text
Scientist Miguel x Reader
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You felt so afraid and alone, the darkened room was cold and suffocating.
The door opened and you shielded your eyes from the bright light.
You whined softly and shook your head.
"Y/N, it's okay. It's just me." You heard a voice sat as you glanced to the doorway to see Miguel, one of the head scientists at the lab. 
"Did you have a bad night?" He asked as you looked away from him.
"I don't wanna go out there." You muttered as Miguel knelt beside you and ran his hand through your hair.
"Don't you want breakfast, baby? You've been such a good girl lately. Why don't you stay here and I bring you some special breakfast only the staff get? Would that cheer you up, darling?" He asked as you looked at him and nodded a little.
He smiled and kissed the side of your head.
"Good girl, I'll be right back." Miguel said before he left the room and locked the door.
You curled up in the corner of the room as the walls around went clear like usual around morning time.
Different scientists walked past and looked in as you continued to shy away.
After a freak accident as a lab assistant you were left with some...odd abilities.
For one you had fangs and your blood seemed to heal faster than a regular humans, but as soon as it happened the scientists had found you.
They weren't going to let you go, every day they took samples, blood, skin, sometimes even teeth.
In just the span of a few days you'd gone from a normal girl with a normal job to a lab rat... That was a year ago now.
Miguel was different than the other doctors and scientists, he treated you like an animal but at least it was in a kind way, unlike the others.
"Are you stealing food for her again? Seriously?" Miguel heard someone say as he grabbed some fruit and croissants.
"She trusts me, I know you see her as a business opportunity but I still see her as a person. I may not have known her before all of this but she's still a person with a life." Miguel grumbled as the other man rolled his eyes and walked away.
Miguel returned to your cell and brought in some breakfast, he pressed some buttons and make the walls dark again so you could have some privacy.
He knelt placed the plate on the small table in your room and came over to help you stand up.
"I want you to take a nap later, okay? It looks like you haven't rested." He said as you sat on the crappy chair and started eating.
"I miss my apartment... What happened to it?" You muttered making Miguel feel sad, he sat across from you.
"I don't know, darling. Maybe they sold it." He said as you nodded a little.
"I just want to go home." You whispered as tears formed in your eyes.
"Oh, Y/N." Miguel whispered as he stood up and knelt beside your chair.
"It's going to be okay, I'm here all week. I'll take good care of you, make sure you're fed well and get some good rest. Maybe I could even get you some more blankets and pillows. Please don't cry, sweetheart." He whispered as you tried to control your tears.
"It's not fair." You replied looking at him, he reached up and gently wiped away your tears.
"I know... I've been trying to justify it myself, but I don't think I can. What we do here is inhumane, especially to you." He continued as he held your cheek in his hand.
"Can't you get me out of here?" You asked making Miguel sigh softly.
"I wish it was that simple, Y/N. Did you have any family?" He asked, trying to divert your question.
"Just a father in prison... Other than that I had no one, I had a fish... Oh god, my fish is probably dead." You whispered starting to cry again. Miguel stood up and you wrapped your arms around his waist, crying into his abdomen.
He ran his hand through your hair while he let you cry.
--
You played on a table with your limbs restrained as you tried to distract your mind.
You wished it was Miguel taking your blood but he had been called away on to another job for the day.
You hated when it wasn't him, because everyone else gave you no dignity or privacy.
"Pretty thing you are, you're going to do a lot of good things, dear." The man said as you glared at him, if there wasn't a muzzle over your mouth you wouldn't called him vulgar names.
You felt him run his hand up your thigh as you tried to squirm away from him.
"Easy, sweetheart. Don't be afraid." He whispered massaging the skin in your thighs as you cried and squirmed.
When his hand went up further, nearing your crotch you broke out of the restraints and hit the doctor across the face.
You grabbed a small knife you found, pushed him to the ground and began stabbing at his eyes over and over.
Suddenly you were grabbed off him and you screamed through the muzzle.
"It's me! It's me!" You heard a familiar voice say as you stopped fighting.
You turned around to see Miguel looking at you in shock.
He took the muzzle off as you lunged forward and hugged him.
"He wouldn't stop touching me!" You screamed as Miguel hugged you back and looked at the suffering man on the ground.
"We have to get you out of here..." He muttered, holding onto you tighter.
"Stay quiet, do what I say and don't talk to anyone, okay? Can you do that?" He asked, brushing your hair out of your face as you cried and nodded.
"Good girl, I'm gonna get you out of here."
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lorcandidlucienwill · 23 days
Text
Coriolanus kills Dr. Gaul: post-TBOSAS
Coriolanus wasn’t sure why he had named his son Sejanus, really.
Actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he had named him that. As a punishment. A reminder of his worst mistake- not just the betrayal, but the lies. He had lost both Sejanus and L-
Do not say her name. Not even in your mind.
Coriolanus clenched and unclenched his fists. After all this time, it still haunted him so. It’s dangerous for an obsessive man to fall in love. She may be alive, or she may be dead, but either way she’d certainly live on in his memories.
In his dreams.
The guilt was unbearable. Much as Ma Plinth annoyed him, she was the closest thing to a mother he had had after his own died. She looked at him like he was her son, and it was like a knife to the gut every time. He had to do something to alleviate it- this pain.
Well, truly, not all the blame could fall on him. He had expected Sejanus to be taken back to the Capitol, maybe his father paid some people off, and that was it. Instead, a few days later, he was standing vigil at his execution. Dr. Gaul, the sadist. He had never forgotten the delightful glee she exuded as Clemensia had been bitten by those snakes. She did not value human life in any capacity; more than being the harbinger of violence, she relished it. Gloried in it. Had been ready to sacrifice his life for the sake of her twisted games.
She had to die. Coriolanus had long desired to end her life, and now, when all others would be preoccupied with the Hunger Games celebrations, would be the perfect time to carry out his plan.
He almost laughed at the position he found himself in. While several sweet maids prepared him for the ball tonight, his mind was plotting murder. He wondered how little they knew about the man they served; he wondered how little they knew about human nature itself.
He admired himself in the mirror. He wore a cobalt trenchcoat over a pale gold button-up and pants. His hair was beginning to curl at the ends again, and Coriolanus made a note to get them fixed later. Those curls were a sign of his youth; they brought back memories he’d rather not revisit anymore than he had to. Torturous sad and wet dreams in the night were bad enough.
He smoothed down a small crease on his shirt and gave a practiced smile. “You’ve outdone yourself ladies,” he said smoothly, and all three ladies preened. He didn’t mention their comical feathers and outlandish makeup that made them look like clowns. Best to keep those close to you on your side.
The first party hosted for the victors. All part of the show; it disgusted him really, that the people were so immune to it. He would never be immune to the deaths of others. He counted every life that had been lost in that arena, and though he deemed it a necessary evil to prevent more deaths, he’d begun counting their lost lives as part of his kill count.
Hundreds of deaths had come at his hands. And there would be hundreds more.
Innocent children. But at least he would be doing some good. At least he would be freeing Panem from Dr. Gaul’s brand of torment. What a terrible waste this ceremony was. Coriolanus couldn’t stop it, couldn’t repress that desperate part of him that still lived in the post-war times when there was nothing to eat but cabbage stew. To see the way the Capitol citizens flaunted their wealth…he wished to give them all a good punch straight to the teeth.
Coriolanus gave his ridiculous speech, being sure to use the words “honor” and “celebration” and “delight” and “victory” a thousand times to get it to sink in. He met the victor, a big burly male who reminded him of Reaper, which reminded him of the tenth hunger games, which reminded him of its victor-
For fuck’s sake. Coriolanus flexed his hands again. Just a little while longer he had to stay here before he could retreat to his chambers. Just another hour or so of entertaining these sycophantic fools who saw him as their social climbing ladder or worse, a pretty object to lay with. He drank one glass of wine, willing his face to go expressionless as women pawed at him, unbuttoning his shirt. He said calmly, “I’m not interested, ladies. I’m still mourning my wife, I’m afraid.” Lies. He had murdered his wife in cold blood four years ago. He had despised that bitch. The only good thing she had given him was his lovely son, who was currently being looked after by nannies. He didn’t want to overwhelm him with huge crowds yet. The woman murmured in disappointment, but they were only replaced by more. He hated how raunchy these parties got, hated that they expected him to join in the festivities. No, he would never touch them. There was only one person he’d willingly partake in such actions with, and she had scattered to the trees. Unable to bear it, Coriolanus left the party a lot earlier than he’d intended. He walked away from the main hall, seeking the men’s bathroom. He heaved into the sink, the memories flooding him. Lucy Gray’s smile, Lucy Gray’s laugh, Lucy Gray playing the guitar, Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray Lucy Gray-
“Coryo,” a soft voice called. Coryo whipped his head around wildly. He could’ve sworn he heard Lucy Gray’s voice. But…no. He must have been going crazy.
He walked back to his room, feeling like there was a heavy weight on his body. The tears fell down his face, and Coryo didn’t bother to stop them. Most days he could get by without thinking of her, but on the days that it hit hard, he became absolutely miserable, and he could not focus for the rest of the day. He had to do something. Nothing like bloody murder to get your lost love out of your mind.
This one would be for her. His Lucy Gray, who Dr. Gaul had taken from him.
Were it not for Dr. Gaul, Sejanus wouldn’t be dead. If he hadn’t died, Coryo wouldn’t have lied to Lucy Gray. If Coryo hadn’t lied to Lucy Gray, she wouldn’t have run into the forest.
Flex. Unflex. Coryo took a deep breath, trying not to think of her earthy smell and warm smile, but he could sense it so clearly in his mind it was like she was there.
What method would he use to kill Dr. Gaul? How poetic would it be if he killed her with her own mutts? But he was sure she had gone to great lengths to ensure that they wouldn’t harm her.
But how sure could she be, really? They were animals, right? Once you took them out of their controlled setting, all bets were off. So, Coriolanus armed himself with his old Peacekeeper rifle. He sometimes kept it on him, for nostalgic purposes. Part of him believed nostalgia was only fit for a fool, but it didn’t hurt that the gun still worked.
He walked down to the labs located in the basement of this very building. Found Dr. Gaul tinkering with something, even this late at night. Twisted psychopath. “Ah, Coriolanus! Don’t you have a lovely party to be at?”
Coriolanus gestured down at himself, his hair mussed up, the top of his chest peaking out, the belt of his pants loosened. “Doesn’t it appear as if I have partied enough?”
Dr. Gaul let out a chuckle. “All those ladies jumping on you as soon as they get a chance, You must power through, and remember all this is part of the…” Coryo smirked. “Dance. All part of the dance.” A dance that would end tonight. Dr. Gaul clapped her hands delightedly. “Come, look at these lovely new mutts I am working with.”
Coriolanus looked over at them, pretending to be interested. In reality, they looked quite foul, with their mottled green skin and a forked tongue resembling that of a snake’s, only much longer. “Are those…chameleons?” Coriolanus asked with forced calm. In reality, the mere thought of these animals made him sick. This was the Capitol; such wild creatures shouldn’t exist in a civilized place.
“Partially,” Dr. Gaul said. That manic smile was on her face again. “Part chameleon, part snake, part my artwork. I call them chamelonakes.” Dumb name, Coriolanus internally scoffed. “They are venomous, can camouflage themselves, and their leaping capacity is much improved. They trust me, of course, but all others, they are trained to kill.” Coriolanus swallowed. “How do you? You know. Get them to trust you.” Dr. Gaul looked at him incredulously. “Why, the same way you’d get any human to trust you. By getting to know them.”
Hmph. Well, he didn’t have time for that. What if he went for a different strategy? He always kept a vial of poison on him ever since he’d killed Livia Cardew. You never knew when you would need to poison someone. While Dr. Gaul was busy cooing over some creatures, Coriolanus slipped poison into the food labeled for them. “Really? It’s that simple? They look very…dangerous.” Dr. Gaul simply laughed. “I thought you would’ve learned by now, Coriolanus, that animals are easily baited by food and basic necessities. Allow me to demonstrate.” She grabbed the food and stuck her hand into the cage with her bare hands. Coriolanus wondered if the creatures would even sense the poison, or if the poison he had used would even be poisonous to them.
He got his answer moments later as no less than three chamelonakes crunched down onto Dr. Gaul’s arm. Coriolanus wasn’t a vicious person, but he had to admit, some savage part of him reveled in Dr. Gaul’s scream, even as he backed several paces away.
“How does it feel?” Coriolanus asked. “To be bit by a venomous snake.” Dr. Gaul blinked. “What did you do?”
Coriolanus shrugged. “Nothing anyone will ever figure out. Just like they never figured out what happened to Clemensia.” He sneered at her. “You thought you were untouchable, indestructible, did you? So unbelievably arrogant; that was your demise.” The chamelonakes continued to crowd around the scientist, inspecting her suspiciously.
“I made you,” Dr. Gaul hissed. “Without me, you would be nothing.”
Coriolanus laughed mirthlessly. “No, you almost got me killed multiple times. You lost me my best friend and my girlfriend. You’re out of control; you relish violence, you sadistic witch. What Panem needs is control, not war. But you would be perfectly happy with another war, wouldn’t you, Dr. Gaul? More bloodshed for you, more dummies to experiment with. No longer. I always had it in me to be President; don’t fancy yourself some great guardian, Dr. Gaul. I will ensure your name is erased from history.”
“Without me, you’d still be rotting in District 12,” she spat.
Coriolanus only smiled. “You’re just angry because I’m better than you are now. Goodbye, heathen. No one will miss you. I’ve won.”
And just as he did after Livia had died before him, he said quietly, “Snow lands on top. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”
Dr. Gaul’s eyes widened before the light left them.
Coriolanus left her there. Some guards would find her in a few minutes, dead. They’d assume her mutts had killed her at last, and they’d be correct. No one would ever realize the role he had played in making it happen.
Snow lands on top.
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ryloriee678999 · 2 years
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I Don't Care If She’s dangerous
Summary: You never thought you’d be slapped by the woman you love the most. AU where it was you and Natasha at Vormir instead of Clint. (800 words)
Relationship: (Wanda Maximoff x Reader) (Previous Wandanat x Reader)
Warnings: Wanda Slaps you, yelling, arguing, angst, toxic relationship.
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Everything changed once Natasha died. Wanda got cold and distant from you while you grieved. You figured this was just her way of dealing with things and that her behavior wouldn't last, but you were wrong. For months you watched her sadness turn to anger and her anger turned to violence. 
First it was just raising her voice and getting irritated at everything you did. Things got worse when every word she said to you was yelled. It never went further, Wanda would never hurt you physically you thought. You thought she would never lay a hand on you until today.
You hated how scared you felt as she screamed at you. Relationships aren't supposed to include fear, you aren't supposed to be scared of your partner, Wanda agrees with that statement; Or at least agreed.
“I’m fine,” she said as she tried moving past you towards the kitchen. As you expected, she brushed you off. Normally you would stop asking and walk away, you knew it would only lead to her being irritated. This time, for some reason, you persisted. 
“Wanda, why aren't you being honest with me? I know you’re angry, or sad or something, but you’re definitely not fine.”
In an instant, It seemed like something changed in her, almost like she was a different person. She went from brushing you off to backing you up into a corner. You knew what was happening next, the same chain reaction that happened every time you spoke to her. Really you should have known better but it never stopped you. 
This time things seemed different, you genuinely felt scared. You didn't know if it was because of the way she was looking at you, or because of the tiny red glint in her eyes. 
“You want me to be honest with you? Alright,” Wanda started, her voice calm but you could tell it wasn't going to stay that way. In no way could you have prepared for what you were about to hear next. “I’m not fine, because every day I have to deal with you. I’m being honest,” she mocked. 
“What?” You question as if you didn't just hear what she just said. 
Wanda sighed, “you never stop, do you? God, I wish it was you instead.” The last part came out as a mumble but you still heard it. You already knew, but it hurt to see it be confirmed.  
It broke your heart but you agreed with her. At least she finally told you the truth instead of hiding it. “Believe me,” you scoff, “I wish it was me instead. I wish she was with you here to make you happy because clearly, I don't.”
“That’s not what I’m saying-'' Wanda started but you continued. You shake your head, your own honest words leaving your mouth. “I know you prefer her, I’ve known since you included me in the relationship.”
You think back to all the times you weren't included in things. You thought it was because they worked together and saw each other 24/7 but even at home, you were the one left out. Sure there were amazing moments that you held on to, but in reality, it was like you were watching them and you were there in the background. 
You could tell Wanda wanted to say something but you were way ahead of her. “Don't you dare tell me how it was my fault, If you had fought harder this wouldn’t have happened, so maybe it’s your fault Nat’s dead!”
“Don't say that!” She yells. Abruptly, you feel the back of Wanda’s hand hit the side of your face. No regret or remorse was shown after her skin made contact with your cheek. “I don't know why I still love you,” Wanda said harshly. 
Her slap stung but all you could focus on was what she said. She still loved you and that's all you could think about. You didn't care how dangerously angry she looked at you right now because she told you that she loved you. The words that once made you feel safe made you feel sick. 
“Natasha would be so disappointed in you,” Wanda said. She said it as if it was nothing as if it didn’t affect you. In reality, it was the worst thing you could hear right now. Her words stabbed right through you, everything felt heavy.
You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Instead, you stared at her, waiting for her to keep going. Along with the heaviness, shame filled your body at Natasha's name. The amount of guilt you felt surrounding her was almost unbearable and Wanda knew that.
Wanda said nothing next. She looked away and bit her lip as if she finally realized what she said. You could tell by the way she looked down at her hand that she regretted hurting you. 
“Fuck,” is all she could mutter.
You would be crying right now if it wasn't for the fear Wanda put in you. ‘It’s not your fault, you shouldn't cry,’ you managed to remind yourself through clouded thoughts.
“I shouldn't have said that I'm sorry, I’ll go,” Wanda apologized, then turned around. You grabbed onto her arm but she shook you off, almost causing you to trip. Nothing good would come out of her leaving and you knew that. You wanted to chase after her but you stayed frozen. 
She picked up her coat and opened the door. You watched as she left, not sure what to do except stand there in the middle of the room. Finally, you let yourself cry now that she was gone. Tears fell, knowing you and Wanda wouldn't recover from this. 
 In the end, you couldn't accept that you’re still here and both of them are not.
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A/N: Yeah I know this is like the ‘I’m to blame’ fic I posted but I really wanted to write more about the same topic. 
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discordantwords · 5 months
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20 questions for fic writers
I was tagged by @khorazir and @raina-at. Thanks so much for tagging me!
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 47 (how is it that many?!) 29 for BBC Sherlock 18 for The X-Files
2. What's your total A03 word count? 897,533
3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently only BBC Sherlock
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea
White Knight
Incidents with Dogs, Curious and Otherwise
Another Auld Lang Syne
The Dead Detective
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to! I'm not always the best at keeping up, especially lately as my schedule has been erratic and I can only steal a few minutes here and there for fandom activities. But even when I don't have a chance to reply, I do read and treasure each and every comment.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I guess maybe The Pillar upon which England Rests has the saddest ending of anything that I've ever written, but I don't really consider it a sad story. It's set immediately post Reichenbach, told mostly through flashbacks as Mrs Hudson shares the story of how she met Sherlock with John. Sherlock is still "dead" when the story comes to a close, and John and Mrs Hudson are both grieving, though we as the reader know their loss is temporary.
I have a few shorter fics with ambiguous endings that lean in the angsty direction:
Nothing Happened in Belarus deals with accidental time travel, with grief-stricken S4 Sherlock finding himself briefly in the care of S1 John. Alas, the reprieve is a short one, as neither Sherlock nor John become aware of what is happening in time to take advantage of the opportunity.
At the end of Leaves Sherlock and John have either triumphed over the hallucinogenic vines that have invaded 221B… or they haven't. (I have my own theory, but you are free to interpret the ending however you choose.)
In EXECUTE John inadvertently deletes Mary from existence. He gets his happy ending, but has to live with the uncomfortable knowledge of the choices he's made.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics have happy or at least hopeful endings. I like leaving the boys in a good place. I guess it depends on the flavor of happy you're looking for. But I'd say that these are probably the happiest:
(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea
Inscrutable to the Last
White Knight
Another Auld Lang Syne
Whirlwind
8. Do you get hate on fics? Thankfully, no. A few weird comments here and there, but nothing too bad. The vast majority of my interaction with others in the fandom has been absolutely wonderful.
9. Do you write smut? Most of my sex scenes stay in R rated territory. But I tend to roll with whatever the plot demands of me.
10. Do you write crossovers? I've done quite a few fusion fics, but not crossovers. Crossovers aren't usually my cup of tea.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Once, sort of, but I don't believe it was done maliciously and I don't wish to call attention to it.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! I'm always flattered by requests to translate my writing.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? A friend and I used to write together quite a bit in high school, but nothing that has made it out into the world.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Sherlock & John and Mulder & Scully.
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Crime Writer is a Sherlock/Knight Rider fusion that ran out of steam a while back (although it was intended to be episodic and IMO doesn't feel too horribly unresolved where it ends, so don't let the unfinished nature of it put you off if you're inclined to read it).
I'm still optimistic about most of the WIPs in my WIP folder, heh. I guess we'll see what next year brings.
16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think I'm good at writing complicated people with complicated feelings that don't always resolve neatly.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? I don't think my smut is particularly inspired. And I have a very hard time writing fluff or domestic situations without having some angst to drive the plot.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I personally wouldn't attempt it. I'm not fluent in any other languages and there's far too much nuance to leave in the hands of Google Translate. :)
19. First fandom you wrote for? X-Files! (Unless you count unrefined and unposted scribblings from my younger years, I definitely went through a phase where I was trying to fix the Terminator time loop in a way that allowed Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese to live happily ever after.)
20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Oh, this is always such a hard question to answer. The Pillar upon Which England Rests is the first fic I wrote for the Sherlock fandom, so it has a special place in my heart. I'm really proud of the cases and complex plot in Out There. (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea is the one that seems to resonate with the most people. And White Knight is the fic I'd most like to see turned into an episode of the show. :D
I'll tag @thetimemoves @insistentbass @lololollywrites @arwamachine @naefelldaurk @clueless-mp4 @totallysilvergirl and anyone else who would like to play along!
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