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peach-the-owl · 3 months

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I make my grand return! But I also wanted to try something different from what I normally do and expand my horizons (so to speak), I hope you all enjoy 😁

Meeting Each Other

Hazbin Hotel & Child!Reader

WARNING: Themes of abuse are present in Angel Dust’s scenario, also swearing in his, I did my best to keep the characters in character but there may be some OOC moments, (if there’s any warnings I miss but should add please let me know)

(Set before the events of the show)

Hazbin Hotel:

Charlie and Vaggie

You peek out from the flaming wreckage you used as cover to hide, seeing the coast is clear you carefully step out of where you’re hiding and roam the corpse riddled streets. It reeked of death, not exactly an unfamiliar scent but not a pleasant one either. You hear something shuffle, or maybe someone? You quickly turn around but don’t see anything, now paranoia starts to creep in making you wonder if you may have exposed yourself too soon and any moment an exorcist will swoop down and finish you off. To your utter surprise that’s actually not the case when you see to woman conversing as they strolled down the street, it was so odd to you how casual they looked doing it or maybe you were just getting too used to all the violence that happened on the daily that it struck you as odd. Either way your curiosity gets the better of you and you try to sneak closer without being noticed to see what they were talking about.

“… idea… to work.” You just barely catch the one in the suit say. An idea? Wonder what it could be? You sneak closer.

“…I know… rlie, but try not... aren’t exactly going to…” You hear the one with the X over her eye say, less enthusiastic then the one in the suit. Who’s going to what? You needed to get just a little closer and… you slip and fall. The girl with the X over her eye immediately wipes around, pulling out an angelic spear, with the fire still burning around you she, for just a brief moment, looked like an exorcist ready to strike you. That was enough motivation for you to shuffle back fearfully, as you do her angered expression drops to one of guilt?

“Hello.” You jump a little at the voice, not noticing the lady in the suit had approached you. “Are you lost my little friend?” She asks. You don’t say anything, you’re not sure what to say so you just kinda stare her down. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m Charlie, it’s nice to meet you.” Charlie gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen as she holds her hand out to you. You weren’t sure you could trust this supposedly kind gesture of hers so instead you pick yourself up off the ground and give a small nod of acknowledgment, which she still seemed extremely happy about.

“Maybe we should go, you know before their parent? Parents? Whoever might be looking for them comes along. Besides, the kid doesn’t look like they’re much for conversation.” The X eyed one says rather bluntly.

“Or… this could be the perfect opportunity to find our first attendants!” Charlie bounces excitedly before turning back to you. “So you know me. And this amazing person is my girlfriend Vaggie.” She introduces, to which Vaggie gives a bit of an awkward wave.

“I don’t.” You finally find your voice to speak. Vaggie raises a slightly confused eyebrow while Charlie looked at you curiously.

“Don’t what?” She now kneels down to your level.

“She said something about a parent coming to look for me.” You point to Vaggie. “But I don’t have anyone looking after me, even when I was alive no one really did.” You say, crossing your arms uncomfortably. Charlie looked like she was about to cry after hearing that and the next thing you know you’re being scooped up in her arms, surprising you.

“Oh Vaggie! Can we keep them! Please?” She asks, giving big puppy dog eyes.

“Charlie…” Vaggie starts looking at your confused self. “I don’t know… maybe they should decide that for themselves.” She reasons. Charlie holds you out at arms length a less enthused and more gentle smile on her face this time.

“Well? What do you think?”

“Umm…” You stare a bit stunned by all this, not entirely sure how to process everything. You’ve been alone for so long, barely trusting people for your own safety and while part of you wanted to run here and now another was telling you to just give this a chance. “I… I wouldn’t mind… I guess.” You mumble out sheepishly. Charlie bounces around happily with you still in her arms, something you realize you’re probably going to have to get used to, while you catch a faint smile on Vaggie’s face.

“Alright. Well, if you’re staying with us, can we at least get your name kid?” She asks.

“Oh, ummm, the name’s (y/n).” You tell her, she gives you a nod and with some convincing to finally get Charlie to put you down the three of you head off to this hotel Charlie won’t stop talking about.

Angel Dust

“Get back here you little shit!!” You dash away from the Sinners chasing you, mentally slapping yourself for being a little too reckless. You couldn’t help it, the items they had looked so shiny. Having been able to manage some distance between them you quickly skid into a rather empty alleyway to hide. Taking a moment to catch your breath beside a dumpster when a side door slams open, you press yourself against said dumpster and blend in with the shadows around you. You watch as someone is literally thrown out the door another figure peering down at them.

“You think this is some fucking joke! Am I a fucking joke to you Anthony!?” The one peering out the doorway hisses.

“No, no I-I never… I would never-” The other figure sounded panicked, quickly being cut off again by the first.

“Enough! We’ll discuss this later, once we get this mess cleaned up.” With that they slam the door. You sneak a bit closer getting a good look at whoever had been left in the alley with you, their spidery features struck you as familiar, remembering some of those posters you’d see around the city promoting some adult film with a one Angel Dust. And if that’s the case and if he was so popular then he must have some cash on him, ripe for your sticky fingers to grab. This motivation in mind gets you shuffling closer staying as close to the shadows as possible to avoid detection, now all you had to do was reach over and…

“Who the fuck!!” You’re suddenly grabbed by the arm and flung to the ground, now staring up at the angry spider. “The hell? What’s a kid like you doing here?” He still looks mad just with some confusion added to the mix.

“You mean in hell, or just in general?” You question back shoving him back a bit so you could sit up.

“Don’t play cheeky with me kid, you was trying to steal from me, weren’t ya?” He narrows his eyes accusingly at you.

“Trying would imply I didn’t get anything.” You say slyly, holding up a bag of drugs. He immediately snatches it back from you.

“How the fuck did you do that!?” He seemed genuinely surprised you took something without his noticing. You shrug casually in response.

“Oi! Is someone there?!” You freeze when you realize your little stunt cost you time to get away from the Sinners you were running from. Without much time, or thought you scramble into the dumpster just hoping they didn’t see you. The footsteps thump closer and closer, halting right by your hiding spot.

“Well well, if it ain’t the beauty of the Angel Dust themselves.” Shit, you forgot Angel Dust was right there, stupid!

“It is, and what can I do for such strong capable folk like yourselves?” You’re gonna be ratted out for sure.

“Uhh- *ahem* Right, we’s looking for a kid, about yay big and kind of stupid. Like a real piece of shit.” Rude much, if anything they’re the stupid ones.

“Is that so? And what exactly are ya gonna do when you catch them?”

“Oh nothing really, we’s just gonna teach them a lesson, right boys.” A small cheer of “yeah’s” ring from the group. This was it, you were doomed and all because you just-

“I think I saw ‘em run that way and turned left.” You sit there stunned as the footsteps disappear into the distance, unsure if what just happened really just happened. “Coast is clear kid, you can come out of there, hehe cum.” He chuckles at his own unintentional joke. Slowly you peek out from the dumpster looking around to be extra sure that gang was gone before crawling out entirely.

“You… you didn’t rat me out?” You look at him genuinely puzzled, he just shrugs. “Why?” He’s quiet for a long moment before answering.

“Well… why don’t we just say you owe me now.” He says, crossing his arms and looking away from you.

“Oh, so you want my soul for something.” You huff.

“As nice as that would be, I was thinkin’ more a fair trade.”

“Like what?” You we’re getting very confused and curious as to what was on his mind.

“I use my ravishingly good looks and smooth talk to get you out of trouble, and you use those little skills of yours to snag me some of that good nose candy.” You think on this for a second, letting his words sink in and it wasn’t the worst situation to be in, all things considered.

“Alright! You got yourself a deal.” You shake each other’s hands, a thread like a spiders web wraps around your hand while a wispy one wraps around his, sealing your deal together. You both blink in surprise at this. “Did you that was gonna happen?” You ask him as you pull away.

“Nope… eh, I’m sure it’s fine.” He brushes off nonchalantly. His calm demeanour quickly shifts to to fear when the door open once more.

“Angel I’m so sorry for how I yelled at you earlier. I didn’t mean it, honest, it’s just been so stressful today. You understand, don’t you?” The pimp says in a sickly sweet voice.

“I uhh…” Angel takes a small look over his shoulder a second to see his own shadow give him a quick wink then disappear into the darkness of the alleyway. “Of course…” He shakes himself off and with a small second of hesitance, re-enters the studio.

Alastor

The streets were quiet and the sky was darker then normal as you kept a decent pace behind the odd man with the strange static noise coming off of him. He’d appeared not too long ago seemingly minding his own business, no one bothering to look twice at him but you found him interesting. After all he basically just got here and already he’s strolling around with the confidence like he owned the place. He turns and without thinking you follow, only to end up staring down the dead end street at nothing. The static sound fills your ears loudly, you quickly cover them and tilt your head up to see the looming figure grinning back at you.

“You seem lost my little friend! T̷͈̜̑o̶͈͊̌ ̸͔͂̎w̵̫̠̕ḣ̴̗̋a̵̐͜ţ̵̗̊́ ̴̣̯̈́d̷̛̪ȍ̷̘ ̷͉͚̍̓Ǐ̶̬ ̴̠̦̉̄o̸͉̍̔w̶̧̟̃é̸͎̻̆ ̸͉̎t̸͇̀̂ͅh̷̥͝ê̶͕̞ ̷̠̍̅p̴̢̓l̴̨̹̑͒ẻ̷̮̅a̷͔͛͊ş̸̾ȕ̷̩͍r̶̹̔e̸̮̬̓ ̵̱̼͌͗ó̴̧͉̈́f̷̡̬̓̓ ̷̰̝͒̀y̴͚̪͘͝o̵̙͋ǔ̵͙ ̶̙̇̂͜f̵̧̪̓ö̶͉́ͅl̶̢̮̅̌l̶̝͂͘ͅo̵̗̳͌̂ŵ̷͓͓̽i̷̧̛̼̾n̶̹̝̔̈g̷̡̡̿ ̴̤͝m̶̩̊̓è̷̹̭?̷̩̻͂͠” The grin never falters as his tone lowers leaving an uneasy feeling in your gut.

“Umm… c-curiosity?” You say shakily.

“Well why didn’t you just say so! If I’d known I already be paraded by fans I’d have given a better welcome!” He laughs jovially. “Though…” He leans down to get a closer look at you. “You don’t appear as someone who’s well versed in the art of radio.” He raises an amused eyebrow at you.

“Oh… umm… I…” You struggle to think of a good excuse, still new to the whole radio stuff. “I am aware of them.” He straightens himself up, still holding a look of amusement on you, then a look of realization crosses his ever smiling face.

“Oh ho! Where have my manners gone? The name’s Alastor, my fine little friend. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” He introduces himself.

“Uhhh, my name’s (y/n).” You greet back.

“Hmmm, so tell me. What really pulled you to follow me?” Alastor hums in thought, being slightly less threatening then earlier.

“You walk with a lot of confidence for someone who’s only been here for about a week. I was curious for why.” You confess.

“Is that all? Haha! Why it’s very simple my little friend. With confidence you hold the upper hand against your opponent no matter the situation.” He proclaims proudly. “Now then, I for one couldn’t help but notice you’re… unique attributes about you.” You look away from him nervously. “Now now, no need to feel shameful. In fact I believe you should embrace it! And I can help.”

“You can help me? How?” You knew exactly where he was going with this but played along.

“Isn’t it obvious? By giving you reason to put those skills of yours to use! And there’s no better person then I to help give you that reason.” He gleefully remarks.

“I mean… I guess.” You draw out the words as an idea forms in your head.

“So… ĭ̸̍̚͜t̴̝̫̆̊’̸̲̺̈́̚s̸̗̓͆͂͆̀̚ ̶̥̖͋͆̾̆̅̏̓ą̴̢̳̤̋̋̉̽̍͌͠ ̸͓̜̲̭̳̦̠̅͗̋̅d̶̙̾̉͗̒e̴̛̙̿͐a̴̟͗́̂̆̎ĺ̴̠̻̒ ̶̧̺̺̳̕t̵̢̰̍̿̍̈́̓͒͌h̵̢̼̰̠͕̀̔̽ę̵͖͚͕̲̓̋͠n̷̢̫̻̆͐͆ͅͅ?̵̲͗͗͒” Alastor holds out his hand to you a green aura around it as a small gust of wind whips around the two of you.

“Only if you promise me that I don’t get in trouble or harmed by anything or anyone.” You quickly say.

“Is that all?” He tilts his head curiously at you. You nod in response, he narrows his eyes at you a second or two before answering. “Cross my heart.” He says to which you then accept his handshake sealing the deal between the two of you.

There it was, a deal was made and the two of you left that dead end street. You weren’t sure what Alastor had planned but that didn’t really matter to you, all you wanted was protection and that’s exactly what you got.

As for Alastor, while not exactly looking to be someone’s “bodyguard” the pros of this deal heavily outweighed the cons so he let slide…

J̶̡̡̣͈͚͓̱̬̳͇̬̻̲̍̈́́͒̐͒u̵̟̞̞̜̲̖̹̳̇̍͊̀̽͂͜͠s̷̥͖̭̣̞͍̑̄̆̈́ţ̴͎̥̰̲͓̖̓̀͗̄̒̂̒̍̏̽͊̕͝ ̶͔̬̹͚̝̯͖̟̭̹̤̇͋͐͑̉͐t̴̡̜͕͕̠͖̗̺͓̣̫̔̓̑̍́̈̇̚͠͝ḧ̴̰͚̯̯̤͓͍̤͚͒̇̈́̆̌̉̑̚͝i̸̘̬̻̐̊̇̎̚ś̴͇̮͕̐̐̓͆̒̓̍̂͝ ̸̡̡̛̩̩̥̰͈̝͔͓̤̖́͒͛͑̆̎̓̈́̚͘͝ö̴̜̭́̀͑̾̑̕͘̕͝ṉ̸̲̥͌̀̽́̓͋̆̒͝c̷̨̨̘̱̲̰̝̟̠̏̍e̸͈̹̒̆̌̒̆…̵̡̭̙͉̱̣̄̐̈́̀̋̂. I

I hope you all enjoyed! Let me know if you want me to continue this or add any characters. (Side note: I have a separate WIP for Helluva Boss characters coming soon (hopefully))😁

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar #charlie x reader #vaggie #vaggie x reader #angel dust #angel dust x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #nothing romantic here

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itiswormtimebaby · 9 months

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Time

You're beginning to question why Bucky won't sleep with you, but you ask the wrong person

Pairing: Biker!Bucky and Bug (+Brother’s best friend Bucky, Plus sized fem reader) (Steve is reader’s adopted brother) CW: Friend’s calling each other “bitch”, references to sexual acts

“I don’t know if I should call you a stupid bitch, a dirty bitch, or a lucky bitch.” Cilla, the platonic love of your life, stares at you from the passenger seat of your car. “Straight out the gate and he’s already hitting it raw, I guess I’ll go with all three you stupid, dirty, lucky, beautiful” she tacks on the end to soften the blow, “Bitch.” Stupid was probably fair, dirty was a compliment, and lucky was factual so you let the comment ride without protest. There was one thing that was bothering you about her statement though, “I don’t think it’s fair to say he hi-”

“Bitch,” She cuts you off, “be so fucking for real.”

“He turned you into his own twinkie- cream filled.” The voice comes from the backseat where McKenna, the third member of your friendship trio is devouring a nerds filled grape slush. Cilla groans in disgust at the bad joke while you pull a face in the rearview mirror, refusing to break eye contact with the man until he cracks first, slowly lowering his plastic spoon back into the sticky purple treat; “I, uh, I really regret saying that.” “Good! That was fucking weird, and now we all have to live with it. Sit in your shame.” Despite your admonishing tone there’s no real upset behind you words as you carry on;

“But as I was SAYING, it was just the tip so I don’t- like it doesn’t feel like that counts. Don’t get me wrong, it was amazing, I just…” The silence sits heavy in your ears but you can’t find it in yourself to continue, suddenly embarrassed despite being in the presence of the two people you’ve trusted with damn near every dirty little secret you possess; why hadn’t it progressed past that?

“Fuck it! Who wants to lose their virginity on a Monday, anyway?” McKenna’s outburst breaks the silence and blessedly removes the spotlight from you, “Yeah,” you acquiescent with a half-hearted chuckle, “you’re probably right.” The conversation moves on quickly enough, though the thought is persistent in your mind- why hadn’t it progressed past that?

Hours later, McKenna returned home to his husband, sun dropped beyond the horizon, you pull to a stop outside of Cilla’s house, the dark-haired woman making no move to exit the vehicle; “How are you actually feeling about it?” There’s clearly only one situation she could be referencing but in truth you’re not sure how to answer. She was the first call you’d made after coming down from your chocolate-brownie-hell-high, after Bucky finally showed back up in the aftermath, after dates one through four, and especially after five, she’d heard details even McKenna hadn’t, every salacious little tidbit. But you hesitate now, a bond forged in college deadlines, all nighters, stress induced coffee comas, movie marathons and evening walks had blossomed into a beautiful friendship with two main tenets; you burn I burn, and no bullshit. You knew she would listen and take it all in without judgment, but part of you hesitated, worried that her honest take, because she would be incredibly honest, wasn’t something you were ready to hear.

“I’m confused,” You finally settle on. She doesn’t offer acknowledgement besides a small hum, no pushing, no rushing. “Everything has felt so good.” At that Cilla does let out a little snort, raising her eyebrows suggestively, though makes no other move to interrupt; “I wasn’t actually talking about that, though he does make me feel amazing. I just mean…Bucky’s been in my life since I was pre-pubescent, he may actually be what jump started puberty for me,” Cilla’s eyes roll at your joke as you pause again to gather your thoughts. “He was this larger-than-life presence, cocksure, the muscle to Steve’s mouth and I just- oh my god I was so in love with him. I’m sure there’s still notebooks floating around where I waxed poetic about his eyes, wrote Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes over and over again in the margins…”

You peter off before taking a steadying breath, suddenly thirteen again and trailing along behind Steve and Bucky, the latter of which was the epicenter of every girlish daydream you had. “He had this girlfriend when we were in High School, Dot? I was so fucking jealous of her, she had everything I wanted because she had him. I know Bucky cared about me, in some way, but it wasn’t the same as he cared about her and it broke my heart.” You can still picture her; pretty red curls, shy smile, hand wrapped in Bucky’s anytime he was within arms reach.

“Once he enlisted, once there was some space between us, I realized there was a lot of naivety I needed to tear through-” You hesitate, fearing the explanation will be muddy but push on anyway, “like, the love I felt was real- but I also built it up a lot in my head? In a way I think it was probably unfair to him, projections from a kid who was newly navigating the difference between romantic and platonic love, but everything just felt so big and all encompassing.”

“He was your first love.”

“He was,” You nod in agreement, picturing Bucky at fifteen, knuckles bloody, Steve behind him with a bruised eye and busted lip, the body of your latest would-be-bully crumpled on the floor, “but that’s not- that’s not how he felt about me.The romantic love, or infatuation, or whatever- it was one sided, very obviously so. I used to wish it was different, dream of a day where he’d drop Dot’s hand and reach for mine but then I realized-” You squeeze your eyes shut, thankful for Cilla allowing you to set the pace of the conversation as you ruminate over the relationship, “I realized after he’d left how shitty that was, just because he wasn’t in love with me didn’t mean he didn’t care, what we did have wasn’t a consolation prize.”

Your friend rests her hand gently on your forearm, nodding her understanding; “Life went on, he and Steve were deployed, I was in school, they came home, they joined the club, he dated other girls, I dated…But I never really got over that feeling of first love, it just- deepened?” You nodded your head at that, happy enough with the explanation, “It sprouted new roots, more substantial ones, I fell in love with him all over again, a different version of him in a way.”

You were getting to the part you didn’t want to say, the part that worried you most, “Like I said what we had wasn’t a consolation prize, Bucky’s always been one of the best people in my life, even when I probably annoyed the hell out of him. I’d made peace with knowing that how we felt about each other didn’t line up and then, well…”

“Then he showed up on your doorstep with flowers begging for a date?”

“He showed up with flowers after I accosted him with my feelings.”

“Don’t forget the FINALLY.” She prods you pointedly at that, having been driven half mad over your analytical obsession with the word, when I FINALLY fuck you, “he clearly had thought about it, and he even said that’s not all he wanted, don’t go where I think you’re about to go.”

“Where am I about to go?” You ask her.

“Questioning his intentions, whether he really likes you, wants to be with you…HE asked YOU out, that means something. Just because y'all aren’t having sex doesn’t take away from everything else.”

Everything else. Cilla was right of course, it’s not like Bucky was running around acting disinterested; he brought you flowers, took you on dates, kept you fed, ran errands with you just for some extra time together, gave you mind blowing orgasms, made you laugh. But then why…

“But then why won’t he sleep with me? He clearly cares about me, thinks about me, but why not- his body count is high, why not one more?” You deliver the last line like a joke, but no part of it feels funny. “I know he cares about me, truly I do. But I guess I just worry- like he’s cared about me since we were kids, so maybe he doesn’t want to sleep with me because he’s figuring out that romance isn’t what he really wants between us and that’d be harder to walk back having-”

“Don’t,” Cilla cuts you off, “do that.” You look at her a bit helplessly as she pushes on, “Has he actually given you any indication he doesn’t want to date you? Aside from not sticking it in?”

It was crude but she had a point, and you knew Bucky, knew he wasn’t one to string people along.

“No.”

“Exactly, it’s just dick, don’t let it ruin something special.”

“I just- I’m all in, so why is he holding back?”

“It’s still a new relationship-”

“I’ve known him forever-”

“But not like this. This is new. He may not be exactly where you’re at but clearly he has feelings for you. My advice would be to hop out of your head and just enjoy things as they progress.”

You nod once in acknowledgement, still not quite ready to move on from the topic; “Should I just ask him why?”

Cilla mulls it over for a minute, “I… wouldn’t, not yet. Give it some time.”

Time, right.

But you couldn't help the worry that persisted, what would Bucky be figuring out in that time?

All things Bucky and Bug found here: to be loved Main masterlist: here

#bucky and bug #biker!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #plus sized reader

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soapoet · 11 months

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Quick energy reading #0613

these energies would not let me chill so...

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: More than you know by Axwell & Ingrosso

You're not losing it, I promise. If someone's been on your mind a lot lately, you've been haunting them, too. And for the few of you where this is less about a specific person and moreso a goal or concern that just will not let you think straight and be present, rest assured that you can release your worries. Just let go. Attract, don't chase. What you want wants you. You really shouldn't be reading this either to be quite frank, because it seems as though you are running around aimless in the woods looking for signs that you're not going crazy. In which case do take this as your final sign that yes, what you feel in your heart to be true is correct. Those of you awake at night tossing and turning because you're awake running marathons in the dreams of another, know that they can barely focus because of you. It is as though half of what you feel when you quiet down is from them, and they can feel you in their energy, too. Your energies have a magnetic pull where you're both constantly in each other's peripheral, lurking like a predator watching its prey. It's not toxic, though, just a little obsessive. They want to see you and be with you, and the distance is making that gravitational pull so much stronger, leading to that addictive nightwatch. Good news and developments are on the horizon, and things will get moving very soon. The barricades put up by you or them or life circumstances are coming down, and quite abruptly at that. This is something that simply cannot be stopped and is inevitable. Sparks are already flying and it'll only get warmer from here, and this is a fire that will continue raging once it starts burning in earnest.

02.

Shufflemancy: Slump (English ver.) by Stray Kids

I don't know what you were told growing up, but if you have too much on your plate it's okay to leave the table and come back to it later. Don't judge yourself if you've bitten off more than you can chew either. Take things one step at a time, and go at exactly the pace you feel comfortable with right now. That pace is bound to change, and it'll change frequently, in fact. Your 100% looks different every day and that's okay. Don't measure your own progress with someone else's ruler. Silence the distractions and the noise and get away if you need solitude. Taking time for yourself does not make you selfish. Anyone who gets upset when you set boundaries would not have respected them anyway had they been there all along. Don't scrap your ideas, finetune them. Start over if you have to, but your previous efforts have not been in vain and can help direct your focus. Every time you tell a story, details change, but because you know the gist of it, things get better and more elaborate each time and gives you more fluidity. Use your ideas and previous attempts to better prepare for a new beginning. Stopping isn't giving up and square one isn't an enemy, but a teacher. In terms of love you may find yourself in separation of some kind. Perhaps you're not seeing eye to eye or there has been distance, or even radio silence, between you. I wouldn't worry too much about it, however. Your inward focus makes you more magnetic and what is for you will use that as a guiding light to come to you.

03.

Shufflemancy: You by Tornike Kipiani

Time for some spring cleaning? Alright. If there is something you need to discard that no longer serves you, do it now. You've been thinking about it for a reason. Life is not a game of chess, so stop overthinking things. Your need to perfect the outcome is leaving you at a stalemate when really you should be moving forward. Do what you want to do and say what you want to say. Don't put up with the status quo or let outside circumstances restrict you. Things will work out in your favour if you just stop white-knuckling the reins and follow your heart down the path of what you desire. The light at the end of the tunnel is not as far away as it seems. I'll have to tell you the same thing I told pile 1: what you want wants you. If you have set your sight on something, or someone, they very much have their eyes on you too. Circumstances may appear too difficult, or even inappropriate, to allow a pursuit, but between consenting adults, who's really to say what you can and cannot do? The same applies to goals, too. If something appears like a distant pipe dream, it's not the circumstances that need to change, but your mindset. And if you've been telling yourself what you do and do not deserve, remember that harsh criticism and narrow boxes that do not fit quite right hurt for a reason. If you're disappointed with what you have, try something else. Telling yourself you can't have it hurts because you know in your heart that you can but the wires between head and heart are faulty, disconnected perhaps, and you're only hearing the voice of the critic and the hater, not the hypeman and the lover.

#pac reading #pick a card #intuitive reading #energy reading #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot reading #so much for trying to enjoy my woodland getaway lmao #soapy.post

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selfindulgentpixies · 9 months

Text

And it's here! Part 4 of my Suguru x reader x Satoru fic. This chapter is once again extremely spoiler heavy and I recommend you're at least caught up on the anime (ep:28) before reading. I worked really hard on this part and have been super excited to share it. Content: Gn!reader (reader gets referred to as pretty/adorable at various points with they/them pronouns), reader's CT is important to the story, Canon typical violence, Toji is here and is his own warning label truly. Word count: 3514 Master list

Chapter 4: Realizations and losses

It’s late when things finally quiet down, the sun long since sinking below the horizon when you approach Satoru with a cup of overly sweet coffee and press it into his hands. He looks at you in surprise as you go to sit across from him with your own mug in hand. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

You hum and then wince when you burn your tongue slightly on your coffee. You let your tongue peek out from between your lips for a moment, unable to notice how Satoru’s eyes linger on it past his glasses. “I decided I wanted to stay up with you.”

“You really should sleep, only I need to stay up.”

“Yeah but I said I want to stay up with you. I want to keep you company. I can just sleep on the plane tomorrow morning.” You blow on your coffee. “ Unless you object to my company?” You glance at him over the rim of your mug, having no idea how cute you look at that moment.

“Of course I don’t.” He sips the coffee prepared to be disgusted by the bitter taste then gives you a surprised look. “You put in enough sugar the first try?”

“I couldn’t help but watch in horrified fascination yesterday when you were making your coffee. You’re worse than a little kid.” You tentatively sip your own coffee, now satisfied it won’t scald your mouth. The two of you sit in silence for a time. “You know… You’ve been really kind the last couple days.”

“I’m always kind,” he retorts almost reflexively.

You give him a wry look. “Uhuh… Well you’ve been especially kind to Riko-chan. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you be so considerate of another person before.” He looks like he’s about to protest but you continue, your cheeks heating up about what you’re going to say. “I like seeing this side of you. Like a lot. Making sure not only that Riko’s safe but also making sure she’s as happy as she can be. It makes me happy that the two of you decided to bring me along. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also have a lot of fun today too.”

Perhaps it’s just the lighting but when you look at Satoru you could swear he’s blushing. You wonder if you should take it as a chance to tease him to try and mitigate the fact that you’d just praised him and how that may come back to bite you in the form of being teased yourself. You don’t though. He’s done so much for everyone else on this mission at his own expense you think you can give him that at least. Despite how tired he looks he’s also so pretty and has a certain softness to him in the dim orange light. You wish you could see his eyes past the dark lenses of his glasses, you’re certain he’s looking at you and you wonder what you’d see without those small glass barriers between you. You clear your throat. “You’re never this quiet, it’s making me nervous. Did I say something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “No, nothing wrong.” He just couldn’t help but think the way you’re looking at him now is how you look at Suguru. He wants to burn this moment into his memory because even with how self assured he is he’s not sure if this will just be a passing thing. Having your full attention in this way. A yawn escapes you though and he glances toward the clock. It’s two sixteen in the morning. “You really should go to bed. I’ll be fine on my own.”

You rub some sleep from your eyes and shake your head. “No, I said I wanted to stay up with you so I will.” You give him a determined pout. “You shouldn’t have to sit up all by yourself watching over all of us.”

“I’m one of the strongest, I’m fine sitting up alone-”

“Strongest or not you’re still just a person… Even with Suguru being the strongest must get lonely…” The last part is said so quietly, almost as if you weren’t sure you wanted him to actually hear you. You down the rest of your coffee, stand and then look at Satoru again, he’s looking back, his glasses sitting lower on his nose and a look of surprise on his face. His glowing gaze is fixed on you and you want to fidget but instead take the two steps needed to be in front of him. Suddenly feeling as if you need to play it off you ask. “Ah.. do you need more coffee?” You hold out a hand for his mug. His fingers twitch against the porcelain before he passes the mug to you.

You swear you can feel his eyes following you when you go to get more coffee. You wonder if you said too much but you’d meant what you said. It applied to both of the upperclassmen. How they seem to stand at the top out of reach of everyone else. You felt a bit like you were stumbling and tripping after them the last couple of months. This mission made it feel like they’d actually stopped and waited for you though. Perhaps that’s just wistful think-

You weren’t paying enough attention as you were filling your own mug, causing it to overflow. “Shit!” You curse, covering your mouth hoping you weren't too loud.

“You alright?” Satoru asks.

You wince, a little embarrassed. “I’m fine, just spilled some coffee.” You give a half shrug and look around for something to wipe up your mess with. Then through the thin fabric of your shirt you feel the warmth of the older boy nearly pressed against your back.

“Here, let me get it.” He reaches forward with a washcloth in one hand, a pretty stark white thing with the hotel’s logo on it, while his other hand rests against the counter on your other side, effectively caging you between the counter and himself. Your heart beats wildly in against your ribs as he wipes up the mess and you don’t dare move since the slightest movement would press your back against his bare chest. Then the moment passes, he pulls back and tosses the soiled washcloth into the sink. “Is this one mine?” he points at the mug filled with milky coffee and with what you know is a sugary sludge at the bottom.

“Y-yeah that one's yours,” you stumble over your words and want to kick yourself over the knowing grin that takes over his lips. You turn away and carefully empty the excess coffee out of your own mug to make room for creamer and sugar. When you turn back around Satoru is leaning against the wall sipping his coffee, watching you. Looking at you like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to piece together.

He jerks his head indicating for you to follow him. “Come sit with me?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. You’d already been sitting with him? He turns and goes back to the sitting area, passes the cushioned chairs and opens the sliding glass doors to go sit in one of the balcony chairs. He leaves the door open for you to follow and you do. Taking a deep breath of ocean air and then letting it out slowly you sit next to him but then immediately stand back up, your coffee sloshing in your mug as you set it on the railing, causing him to give you a startled look.

“I almost forgot! I’ll be right back!” And you rush back inside, leaving him to blink after you in confusion. When you return several moments later it’s with your backpack and you’re mumbling to yourself. ”I hope it’s all still good…” You sit back down next to Gojo and begin to rummage through your bag.

“Hope that what’s still good?” You answer the question with a triumphant hum as you pull out the prettily wrapped box of mochi and hold it out to him.

“Remember on the first day of the mission you and Suguru sent me to go get snacks? Everything got so busy so quick that I completely forgot to give them to you.”

“I completely forgot about it,” He admits with a gleeful smile. He takes the box, pulling off the decorative ribbon so that he can open it. The pillowy soft sweet treats had managed to get through the last couple of days in your bag unscathed thanks to how you had carefully tucked them away. He picks up one of the light pink ones, already able to smell the sweet scent of strawberry before popping the whole thing into his mouth, one of his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk. The sight makes you giggle.

“I’m glad I remembered them. I would have felt bad if they’d gone ba-” You stop mid word as the powdery and plush surface of mochi touches your lips. You blush when you realize he’s trying to feed you and you turn face out of shyness, making a trail of rice flour coat your lips and onto your cheek. You hope that in the dim light he can’t tell how flustered you’d suddenly become.

He pouts, “Come on take it.. They’re really good.” He knows very well that you’ve turned your face away because he’s flustered you and relishes in how cute you look. You’re not even getting annoyed at him for his antics which encourages him, leading him to lightly bump the plush treat against your equally plush cheek teasingly.

“Stooop,” you’re a little surprised when he lets you take it with your hand instead of pulling it away and insisting you let him feed it to you. That felt like the sort of teasing he’d do anyway. You can’t quite bring yourself to meet his gaze as you take the mochi and bite into it. This one has a mellow sweetness to it, slightly earthy, if you had to guess the flavor you’d say it’s matcha.

He leans back in his chair putting his hands behind his head with the box of treats balanced on his lap. A small, and admittedly smug, smile curls his lips as he watches you pop the second half into your mouth. “Good yeah?”

You nod and shyly glance his way. He surprises you by not pushing his teasing further and the two of you spend the rest of the night talking. He occasionally passes you another mochi or even rips some in half to share if it’s one from the variety box where only one got put in. There’s a cream flavored one he does this with that both of you are particularly fond of. You realize at some point that he’s actually let you do most of the talking. Getting you talk about your favorite shows and hobbies, what sort of places you’d like to go. You’re so used to him normally dominating conversation that it makes you feel a little off balance once you realize it. You could try rationalizing it as him just being tired but It feels like once again on this mission you’re seeing another more thoughtful side to him.

Somewhere around four am you finally doze off in your chair. You’d have an hour and a half to rest before you’d need to get up and ready to go for the morning flight. Careful to not wake you, Satoru drapes his hoodie over you. He smiles as you curl up with it, snuggling into his warmth that still clings to the fabric. He’s about to go inside to get changed into his uniform when he pauses looking back at you. So cute all curled up with your cheek pressed into the red fabric, getting just a bit of rice flour on it. He takes out his phone and takes a quick picture. His heart stutters for a moment when after the flash goes off you grumble and bury your face deeper into the hoodie. When you don’t do anything else though he smiles to himself, looks at the picture and then goes inside to get changed.

You’re woken up by Riko later who’s giving you a sly look with a hint of blush to her cheeks. “So what did you do last night?” She pokes your cheek.

You blink at her in sleepy confusion, still even trying to remember where you are and what year it is, let alone what you did last night. Then she points to your chest where you’re wrapped up in and clinging to a red hoodie

The ensuing commotion on the balcony draws three curious stares to the two of you.

Suguru glances toward Satoru not even needing to voice his question.

“Just talked until they fell asleep. Didn’t want them to get cold,” he gives a half shrug, playing it off.

Suguru’s hum is as knowing as his smile.

___

How? How was this possible? Somehow the sight before you is even harder to understand than the blade through Gojo’s chest had been. You watch as Riko’s blood slips away, soaking into the stone floor at your feet. Your brain screams as you look at her unmoving form on the ground. One moment it was decided that she’d get to go on living and then in the next she was… How’d this even happen? Gojo was supposed to have.. Your mind screams at what this could mean, not wanting to comprehend it. Then the strange man from before speaks and like a puppet with its strings pulled your head jerks toward him. The only thing that cuts through the buzz in your brain is when he says he killed Satoru.

“Is that so? Then die!” Your eyes move to Suguru, his curses making your hair stand on end as they emerge on either side of you. “___, I’ll make an opening and then you go to Satoru, maybe it’s not too late.”

You’re torn, part of you wants to remain by Suguru’s side to help him fight, to maybe know he’s okay, but the other part of you desperately wants to get to Satoru like he’s telling you to. You swallow and nod. “Please be careful,” Your voice is tight, shaken, it makes you feel weak.

“Tch, I won��t stop them. They can go to him all they like, it won’t make a difference.”

You grit your teeth and clench your fists before dashing past the man.

“If you back down now the two of you can still walk away.” You hear the man say before the sounds of fighting break out. You push yourself to run harder.

When you see Kuroi’s body outside the elevator you have to stop. You feel sick and you can’t stop yourself from throwing up. You’re hunched over, arms on your knees, retching, desperately trying to grasp your composer. Taking several shaking steps to close the distance between you you check for a pulse and when you find none it truly hits you that the three of you failed. You couldn’t save Riko, you couldn’t even keep Kuroi safe. You stumble back a step before running into the elevator, willing it to move faster. You need to get to Satoru.

Reaching the surface and nearing where you remember the fight starting all you see is devastation. No, not just devastation, you also see a swarm of fly heads gathered around a still figure lying on a raised surface at the center of a crater. Rage and grief sear through your veins and without you fully willing it to one of your weapons form in your hands, a large axe with a serrated edge of teeth where a blade would normally be, a truly ugly and fleshy thing still pulsing with its own life. Your body moves and you cut through the fly heads, a slash of cursed energy going beyond the initial strike of the blade. The fly head’s disintegrate and Satoru’s hair ruffles in the wind.

God there’s so much blood, soo fucking much that you don’t even know where to start as you fall to your knees by his head. “S-senpai? Satoru-senpai, please, you have to be okay-” You choke on unbidden tears as you pull his head onto your lap. This was all too much. Riko, Kuroi and now.. “Satoru, this isn’t funny, you gotta get up.” Your tears fall on his face, mixing with his blood as they slide down. “You’re the strongest.. You gotta get up. Please Suguru is fighting that monster now, we need you, i can’t- i want-” You sob, hanging your head and curling around him, letting your forehead touch his, uncaring that his blood is getting on your face as well as your lap. His blue eyes once so full of life stare blankly at you, all the warmth of them from the previous night gone in a brutal wash of blood. “You can’t be gone, not yet..” you choke on tears feeling useless. There was no way you could even begin to staunch the bleeding of so many wounds in so many places. “Satoru.. Satoru please..” His name falls from your lips like a prayer.

You’re not sure how long you sit there frozen with him. Sickness twisting in your stomach at the grief. If you were thinking clearly you probably would have gone back to Suguru or even tried to call in some sort of medical help.

“You should have listened when I said it wouldn’t make a difference.”

You jerk your head up toward the voice, watching as he walks around the crater, not really paying attention to you. If he’s here then.. Then that means. Suguru too. Blood rushes in your ears and your axe rematerializes as you gently place Satoru’s head down and rise back to your feet.

The man stops and glances over his shoulder. “I’d rethink that if I were you.”

You don’t. You can’t. You’re moving, driven purely by rage and grief. Never have you hated someone so much in your life as you hate this man right now. Your axe screeches as you swing it, the initial slash cutting into the stonework where the man had once stood followed by the shockwave of cursed energy tearing a further path into it.

Too slow. You were too slow. You need a faster weapon. You watch the man land unharmed and you can feel him assessing you like it was the first time he was really looking at you since this all began. Your axe seems to absorb back into you while a lance of linked hands takes its place, the sharp end starts like two hands pressed together in prayer until the fingers fuse together into a sharp blade. Logically you knew that if Satoru and Suguru couldn’t kill him you had no chance. But there’s no logic to be had in grief, not in grief as raw as this.

“You know, I don’t plan on killing you. It could be just as troublesome as killing that boy down below would have been. You curse manipulators are a real pain.” He cracks his neck. “I don’t have an issue leaving you crippled though.”

You lunge, trying to impale the large man, and perhaps with a slower, less skilled opponent, they would have been a shredded up pin cushion by now. You hadn’t even managed to cause a scratch and one moment your weapon is in your hands and the next it’s gone, you don’t stop to think about it, instinct driving you to summon another.

“Tch those hands of yours are a real pain, you know that?”

He’s directly behind you.

Before you can do anything he’s grabbed your arms and pulled them back as far as they’ll naturally go. Time slows as you feel his knee plant in the middle of your back. There’s screaming and you realize it’s yours accompanied by several sickening pops and cracks. Your blade falls from your hand and you follow to the ground soon after.

Gasping, all your eyes can focus on is Satoru’s body just beyond the other side of the crater. That changes as suddenly your vision is taken up by the large man crouching in front of you. “I warned you, you know.” he tips his head to the side and scratches his neck, then reaches for your hair, yanking your head up to focus on him. “Really a waste of a pretty little thing like you.” The grin he aims at you is more like a baring of teeth than a smile. You grit your teeth and glare. “Ooh now that’s a scary look-” You spit in his face.

With his free hand he wipes away your spit then rises to his feet, still holding you by your hair. “Now why’d you have to go and do that?” You’re dangling like a helpless kitten, your arms hanging uselessly at your sides. Then the man’s fist crushes into your abdomen and the world goes dark.

Thank you all so much for reading! I've really been enjoying working on this series. It has couple more parts to it that I'm working on. Got some juicy scenes planned that will delve more into the actual love aspect of it but it was important to cover the events of hidden inventory first. Again so I'm so glad people are enjoying my self indulgent story. If part one hadn't gotten such a kind response it would have remained a drabble. Part 5 may take a bit more time to come out because i've been writing like a madman and I want to take a break to draw. Maybe I'll even draw art for this who knows. But def want to pace myself so I don't burn myself out on this story since I do love it.

Here's art for the first part of this chapter!

tag list (if you want to ask to be added to it you must have your age in your bio. I will not add ageless of underage blogs to my tag lists since my blog has Minor DNI policy) : @strawberrystepmom @nanamikentoseyebags @icy-spicy @gojoest @Porridesblog

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gn!reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto x gn!reader #gojo x geto x reader #gojo x gn!reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x gn!reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #rossi writes

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twistedwonderlandsimps · 2 years

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Little Misfortune!Yuu

I'm just here to mix-and-match different kinds of Yuus with different kinds of personalities to see what monstrosity I can make. That being said,,, Little Misfortune!Yuu brainrot!

Finally, the promised thing is here. I did say I was going to make this one day in one of my earlier asks. Well, here it is.

Yuu isn’t a child here. They’re all grown up but they still have the same morbid humor.

And who’s with them when they get transported into another world? Well, Mr. Voice, of course!

Mr. Voice is a limitedly omniscient being and probably lives in the 4th dimension or something. He’s just hanging around Yuu and acts as a father figure/narrator because he practically adopted Yuu and didn’t have the will to kill them when they were young and now here they are.

Or maybe he was successful and Yuu died but they were adopted by Mr. Voice soon after, whatever floats your boat.

Anyway, the only one who can hear Mr. Voice is Yuu.

Yuu also has that very distinct accent from the game because I say so. It’s cute and makes the morbid things that comes out of their mouth more horrifying.

Also, Mr. Voice probably sometimes lovingly refer to Yuu as ‘little misfortune’ as a nickname.

“Mr. Voice, I don’t like being trapped in here.” Yuu worriedly says once they woke up to find themselves trapped inside a coffin. “Can you help me get out?”

“Don’t worry, Yuu. I’m sure you’ll be out soon. Ah! Speaking of, here comes a cat. What might this little creature be doing to come here? Perhaps they’re going to help you get out of that coffin? It seems so! You might want to brace yourself, little misfortune.”

The moment the coffin opens up, Yuu faceplants on the ground with a loud ‘oomph!’.

“Are you okay, Yuu?”

“I’m okay, Mr. Voice.” Yuu says, pushing themselves off from the ground and dusting the dirt off from their clothes. They then looked around their surroundings and said in a voice full of awe, “Where are we?”

“We seem to be in a completely different place. Maybe even perhaps a different dimension?” Mr. Voice replies in his ever-so-calm manner.

“Woah! For reals? Are we going to have an adventure? I like adventures! Hehe.”

“Well, if you want to, then yes.”

The father-child moment gets broken by none other than Grim who butts in, “Who are you talking to, human?! Gah, nevermind that, give me your robe!”

Yuu manages to escape Grim safely with Mr. Voice’s guidance. That doesn’t last long because Grim finds them soon after.

Trust me when I say Mr. Voice was ready to throw hands at that moment.

Remember, Mr. Voice might not have a body but he can affect Yuu’s plane of existence.

Causing destruction or whatever, as long as the scene is within his ‘screen’ or in other words his point of view, is child’s play for him.

Luckily for Grim, Crowley arrived.

Guess no punting Grim to the horizon for today. Can’t say the same for the future overblot boys, though. May the Great Seven save their souls.

Anyway, they’ve arrived at the Mirror Chamber.

Yuu was hesitant to go in at first.

“There’s a lot of people inside. I don’t know how to feel about this, Mr. Voice.”

“It’s alright, Yuu. You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll always be with you.”

“For reals?”

“Yes, for real. Now go in and show all those people inside you’re not someone to be messed with!”

“Hehe, okay!”

Yuu is not threatening at all. Not one bit. They like to think they are and Mr. Voice likes to encourage them and make them believe they are but no.

Anyway the ceremony goes off without a hitch, aside from Grim almost burning it down that is, and Yuu’s brought to Ramshackle.

“Creepy and spooky!” Yuu exclaims with a small giggle but they don’t seem worried or scared.

“Now, now, Yuu. It might look rundown on the inside but I’m sure it’s better on the inside.”

[Cut to Crowley and Yuu standing inside Ramshackle where it’s obviously not much better than the outside.]

Mr. Voice: “Well, alright then.” *proceeds to trip Crowley as he was heading out, making the Headmaster stumble, fall, and break through the dilapidated floor and down through the basement*

Mr: Voice: “That should take care of him for now. What say we go upstairs and find a nice comfy bed you can sleep on?”

Anyway, imagine Yuu and witnessing overblotting.

Someone: *overblots*

Yuu: “Yikes forever.”

And when the overblot’s finished, Yuu just sprinkles the overblottee a fistful of glitter.

“I hope you feel better now. Glitters always make me feel better.”

“You eat glitter, my little misfortune. I don’t think eating glitter makes anyone feel better.”

“Hush now, Mr. Voice.”

Where does Yuu even keep their seemingly infinite source of glitter from? Even Mr. Voice, as omniscient as he is, doesn’t know.

Now that I think about it, they’re probably going to be constantly throwing glitter all over the campus since they sprinkle it everywhere that they believe needs happiness, and it cheers them up.

And NRC is a very gloomy place.

My god, can you imagine that part where Riddle insult Yuu, their parents, and their education?

The braincell group gets angry, Ace punches Riddle but then Yuu just casually pipes up with:

“Hey! That’s rude, you know. My mommy and daddy were always busy arguing with each other and drinking juice so sometimes they forgot about me.”

“As I said before, their behavior isn’t an excuse for them to neglect you, Yuu.” Mr. Voice says.

“Really? Damn.”

“Language.”

Mr. Voice was slightly conflicted since technically Riddle was mocking Yuu’s parents and was trying to mock Yuu’s upbringing through them. Of course it doesn’t really work that well since Yuu’s parents weren’t the best people so he was kind of right.

Also imagine Yuu approaching Riddle post-overblot and asking, “Do you have your own Mr. Voice, too?”

“Mr. Voice?”

“Yeah! He talks in my head and knows a lot of things. He takes care of me because my mommy and daddy can’t.”

“I don’t think I have this… Mr. Voice you speak of.”

“Oh… Ok! I’ll just share him with you then and he can take care of both of us.”

Also, I like to think that since Mr. Voice is in another plane of dimension that’s beyond Yuu’s is that he can see what the players can see.

That means that he can see the overblot boys’ flashbacks and tells Yuu all about it.

“I don’t like Riddle’s mommy. She sounds mean. Can’t you do anything about this, Mr. Voice?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t. The only one who can make a choice regarding this is Rosehearts himself. The only thing we can do is give him support and help him when he needs it.”

Also, I don’t know why but I ironically think Mr. Voice would have a favorable impression on Ace.

Not at first, of course, since they insulted Yuu and all but he was thoroughly impressed with the Heartslabyul student when he defended Yuu later on and even called Trey out for being a bad friend to Riddle.

Anyway, Yuu probably doesn’t hide that they can hear Mr. Voice and even talks to them but since no one else can hear Mr. Voice, they seem a wee bit weird talking to thin air and staring off into nothing.

Except for the braincell trio and maybe some other people. They, at some point, start to believe Mr. Voice exists.

Because really?

Cater: “Prefect, do you know anything about how Trey got injured?”

Yuu: *silently looks to wherever Mr. Voice is*

Mr. Voice: “I believe this problem has something to do with the… Savanaclaw Dorm, was it? Specifically, someone by the name of Ruggie Bucchi. The one that Grim traded his lunch with the other day ago, remember him? He’s the one who has been causing all these accidents.”

Yuu, turning to the others: “Mr. Voice says it’s because of Ruggie Bucchie from Savanaclaw. He said that he was the one causing all the accidents.”

Ace: “Alright, case closed. Now let’s get the pitchforks.”

Unfortunately since they had no evidence yet and can only rely on Mr. Voice’s (someone who the majority still believes is just a product of Yuu’s overactive imagination and is in no way real) word, they can’t do anything but they do keep a closer eye on the Savanaclaw Dorm.

Also, I like to think that Lilia would want to adopt this Yuu.

Like, hm? Your parents were crappy and neglected you your whole life? Sometimes even hurting you? Well, well, well, would you like to instantly get a parental figure and immediately be adopted?

Mr. Voice has a contender for the parent role and it’s not Crowley.

“Mr. Lilia, Mr. Voice told me to tell you that ‘You are not going to be taking my ward away from me you overgrown bat.’”

Speaking of Crowley, every time he’s within Yuu’s vicinity, and subsequently in Mr. Voice’s point of view, dead birds will fall from the sky no matter if he’s inside a building or outside.

Mr. Voice is just that petty.

Also, just thinking about when the braincell group visit Ramshackle, gets bored, and goes over through Yuu’s stuff and they see a bloodstained rock that had a sad face drawn on to it.

“Hey Yuu, what’s the deal with this rock? Why does it have blood on it?”

“I got that stone when daddy threw it at me once. I call him Stony because he’s a stone.” Yuu said and giggled, not noticing the silent horrified looks their friends gave them.

Wait, wait, I just thought of something…

What if the reason Yuu got their name was because their parents couldn’t be bothered to think of a name for them and just constantly called them ’you’.

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mako-neexu · 25 days

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"I still haven't forgiven you yet, you know?" His Master shakily tells him this while her face was buried against his shoulder.

And Monte Cristo closes his eyes and softly replies in affirmation, "....Hm."

...That was fine. It was expected, after all.

Slaughtering the makeshift family, creating those residents in the Pseudo-Tokyo, having each of her friends betray her and leave her to descend the staircase in her lonesome... was nothing more than a part of his plan for Ritsuka to move forward, to tear down that wall just so she could see the end of her journey.

Never stopping in her tracks as she walks further and further until her form is nothing but a speck in the horizon, leaving behind footprints for him and those vestiges to gaze upon.

─And yet.

He finds himself in her embrace.

Trembling arms wrapped around his chest as he was instantly frozen the moment she ran up to him before the pillar of light had even died from the summoning, her teeth grit in frustration and angry tears, her desperate hands seeking to capture him, to hold him- accompanied with-

No. He didn't want to- He does not want to speculate on what other emotion she must hold for him now that he had been summoned when it should no longer be possible.

Contempt and hatred... it was simply expected.

Yet knowing his- this Master...

Monte Cristo could not help but bite his lower lip, unable to remove himself from this embrace.

He sighed, clicked his tongue as his gaze turns away from the girl below him, barely stopping himself from returning the hug and instead hovered his hands around her arms, "I've told you before that you must leave our flames behind, didn't I? Yet you still reached out and hoped someone of the Avenger class would answer."

He's sensed the wishes still lingering in that Shield. Though it may not have been explicitly indicated for those Servants of retribution to be summoned, that deeply sincere wish of 'wanting to see someone again' once more was enough to pull someone of that impossible class out.

...And that connection alllowed him to materialize here.

A connection that should not have been conceivable and yet through that bond they shared─

Her reply was muffled. Shaky and weak... He couldn't help but clench his jaw tight, and close his eyes shut. He couldn't help but restrain himself from what he truly wants right at this moment.

Then, Ritsuka finally lets go- but just a little bit. She still held onto the edge of his belt as she rubbed at her puffy eyes, her breathing far unstable than he's ever seen. Her glare that reminded him of the anger he incited in her during that time... yet this was completely a different one.

An anger accompanied by something else he himself knew about far too well. Sorrow, pain, suffering, and─.....

...Hah.

In the end, resistance was completely futile, in the face of someone such as this girl in his arms.

He sighed, supposedly to try and sound more cruel yet simply ending up sounding more softly than anything else, "Then, I suppose there is no helping it. You may use these flames as you like - yet I shall remind you that this is nothing more than a temporary Spirit Origin that will disappear as quickly as you summon it."

With a finger, he gently, and slowly lifts her chin to face him, so he may wipe those tears with his other gloved hand, bearing a difficult expression as he himself feels an ache.

The Count of Monte Cristo - the murderer, a cold demon of vengeance from the Mythologie, burning all of his enemies with his flames of hatred - feels that same feeling once more whenever Ritsuka moved forward no matter how hellish her trials were, no matter how much force the universe puts on her shoulders, she still continued to to follow her heart.

Never succumbing to despair and bloodshed in this world that is merciless to those who were kind, those who were good, and those... that simply loved.

"So I advise you not to get too close to me," He whispered, low enough only for her to hear, as his thumb grazed against the corner of her left eye, a tender touch against her skin, acting as both relief and irritation at this moment, "Lest you be burned by the fires I create in this form."

He knew they were both being foolish.

Yet right at this moment, there was no helping himself despite his capacity for great restraint. What he should be doing, was to resist Chaldea's Master and maintain his distance so as not to sabotage all the efforts they went through to surpass the Avenger Ordeal Call.

Yet, he was here. A telltale sign enough to suggest what he desired as well.

Ritsuka cups the hand on her cheek, her grip on his own allowing him to see for himself how she would not let him go no matter how hard he tries for her sake.

And if he was being honest, neither does he.

But his wish, as he journeyed with her, was for her to be happy. And her happiness lies beyond those walls, where a normal life awaits her and no longer shall she be plagued with dangers.

For her to reach beyond the end, as that was her wish from the start. A wish he will fulfill for as long as she continues this descent- this pathway down to hell.

His accomplice's gaze softens, like sunset sinking beneath nostalgic waves, "You're seriously not asking me that, are you?"

He glances to the side as he himself feels scorched instead by eyes that burn brighter than flame, and more radiant than any star.

He simply could not respond to that, for that was a question this foolish girl already knew the answer to.

And he hears her sigh, "Count..."

Then he feels her arms once more around him, wrapping him in an embrace far warmer, far crueler than the pain he himself inflicted on her not too long ago.

"Please. Stay by my side this time."

Longer, her words say, far longer than the supposed goodbye from back then, for as far as she can walk with him. Just a little bit more as this journey is not over yet. (As far beyond even that tomorrow that yearns for─)

Ritsuka whispers this to him.

To him, who has been with her since the beginning, with a voice that he could barely hear, a voice of pain accompanied by her lips grazing at his nape and her hands clutching at the back of his vest.

Her hands that were still trembling, her body, her heart that still continued to love despite all that he has done...

And here, Edmond Dantès, Count of Monte Cristo, who was once summoned to extinguish an innocent soul, returns that embrace.

Holding her closer, closer, cupping the back of her head with one hand and the other snaking around her waist, burying his face in her hair, a scent and kind of warmth so deeply familiar to his body that it soothed his ache more than any flame of vengeance could burn, returning the gesture tenfold-

Laughter bubbles forth from his voice, a chuckle of amusement, of the realization of how far he was willing to do anything for this Master who has come so far, a reminder of how much Fujimaru Ritsuka means to him.

"Then, for as long as you wish it, for as long as it will aid you," He softly breathes out, cradling this radiant star in his hands, "The Count of Monte Cristo shall continue to fight and be by your side no matter where you go. I shall light your way with my flames so you may conquer that brilliant path."

Her answer was a smile, love and affection twinkling in her eyes, ever dazzling, ever bright and beautiful, a glimmer that cannot ever be extinguished as he sees himself so clearly reflected in her amber gaze.

Once again, he was reminded of a memory from long ago.

A dark night near an apartment entrance. In between the small patch of trees as two of her companions take on a stance for battle, while she gave him a fierce look of determination. So much like fire yet even more- holding a soul as bright and blue as the sky she saw years ago.

And there was no helping the breathless feeling in his chest remembering it, causing him to embrace Ritsuka tighter, her heartbeat pounding as loud as his.

...O' Star who is his destiny, his Master, his accomplice, his one good thing in this life since that fateful day─

#oh boy wrote this at 1 am #testing the waters kind-of-fic #btw side note: what he said in the last part you have to check out dantes' np its basically a marriage vow #ive written edguda back then but i never got to post it since that was around the time #i had fgo burn out bc of farming skjfndkjh #fgo #so this could be my first...? anyways i want to try it jskdfsdfkj #edguda #fate grand order #guda #fujimaru ritsuka

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softpascalito · 8 months

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javier peña x f!dea!reader - we got your back - chapter 3

Summary: You work as a new DEA agent alongside Peña and Murphy. A not-so-kind colleague reveals more about you than you would like. You also realize you can sleep better if you're not by yourself. You're not the only one with that realization.

Relationships: Javier Peña x FemReader

WC: 6700+

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow burn, mention of canon-typical violence, no beta we die like Colonel Carrillo, family Issues, they arent specified but reader is implied to be from a dysfunctional family, Steve is here too, literal sleeping together, one bed trope if you squint, tac vest javi

AO3 LINK // Chapter 1 (Tumblr) // Chapter 2 (Tumblr)

Notes:

helllooo! the new chapter is finally here. if youre enjoying this fic, please let me know, i cry happy tears about every comment <3

_______________________________

Chapter 3

The alarm doesn't wake you. Not fully. What does wake you is the body next to you contorting and almost falling off the couch as he tries to turn said alarm off, muttering curses under his breath. You blink a few times, opening your eyes just as the beeping finally comes to a halt and find Javis' face right in front of yours. He looks at you, the apology already visible on his face:”Sorry-”

You sit up slightly, mumbling:” ¿Que hora es?”

“Just past six,” Javier answers. His voice is still rough from sleep. Your tired brain doesn't quite realize how intimate this is, the two of you waking up together. Seeing him with his hair still messy, before he had breakfast or even coffee. Before he has talked to anyone.

It's still dark outside, except for a gentle purple at the very horizon, announcing the break of dawn.

Unlike yourself, Javi seems like he's immediately wide awake. You try not to think too hard about why that may be.

He's been in Colombia for years.

“Not a morning person?” Javier asks as he gets up and starts shoving the blanket back into whichever drawer he'd taken it from last night. It's still a little too dark to see properly but you can make out his movements, even in the dim light.

It's your turn to get up, already looking around for the only thing that you care about in your current state.

“Not unless we have coffee somewhere in this godforsaken office.” You mutter under your breath, already halfway through the door to find the small kitchen you'd been in the day before. Just as you finish pouring two cups, Javi joins you again. His hair is still messy but it's not as noticeable anymore and he seems to have freshened up in the bathroom. You allow yourself a slightly longer study of his face as you hand him his mug. Balancing it in one hand, he repeats the motion of the other day, reaching for the milk carton to pour some into the mug you're holding. He pours until you ask him to stop. He doesn't even tease you about it.

The light of the fridge illuminates his sharp features as he puts it back and you can't help but stare. For once, he doesn't notice, instead focused on finding a way to squeeze the carton of milk in between two bottles of juice. Just in time, you manage to draw your gaze off him and turn around to stand at the small window looking out over the embassy parking lot.

Javi takes a small sip of his coffee as he crosses the room in two large strides, stopping just behind you, close enough for you to feel his warmth.

A comfortable silence settles over the pair of you. You're not sure how long he stands behind you like that, both glancing out onto the dimly lit pavement that will be bustling with people in an hour. It's almost too calm like this and leaves you with an eerie feeling. Like something's not quite where it's supposed to be.

He's the one to break the spell.

“You want me to get some breakfast?” It's a good offer and you open your mouth to accept- when you suddenly snap it shut again. Breakfast sounds lovely. But spending a few more sole minutes with Javi sounds even better, in your opinion.

So you shake your head no. To not make it too obvious, you add:” I usually just go for some cereal.” Javi raises his brow, turning his head slightly towards you:” Didn't strike me as a cereal kind of gal.” You snort:” If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say that sounds like a compliment, Peña.”

He can't hide the small smirk that appears on his face as you go on:” It sucks though. Colombia doesnt know how to make proper cereal. They all taste the fucking same. I would die for some Cap'n Crunch.”

“Sounds like someones a little homesick.” Your face falls slightly. He's right in a way. There are things that you miss, days where you wish you'd never come to Bogotá. But there are also the things you've left behind. Or, tried to.

Javi seems to pick on up on the small mood shift, his face a little apologetic as he steps back, mumbling a small apology, without really knowing what he's apologizing for.

You get ready in silence and you try- you really try- not to take too much notice of his morning routine. A sip of coffee, impatiently shoving his belt through the loops in his pants, the small noise of annoyance when it gets caught on something. Tugging his shirt in, raising the collar to adjust his tie, downing the rest of his coffee in one go before turning his attention back to the tie.

You notice he hasn't undone it for the night, just slid the knot down far enough to take it off. After spending the night draped over some office cabinet, it looks rather messy.

There's a short moment of hesitation before you break the silence in the room:” You don't know how to tie a tie.” It's not a question but Javi pretends it is.

“I know perfectly well how to tie it,” he protests.

“Okay. Redo it then.” You say, half expecting him to ignore your request. He doesn't. With a small sigh that he somehow makes sound both annoyed and endearing, he slips the knot open and attempts to redo it. After a few moments of struggling with it under your watchful gaze, he manages to form some sort of knot that miraculously looks even worse than before.

You finally take pity and move towards him, reaching for the piece of clothing that's giving him such a struggle. His hand automatically reaches to stop you, but you gently bat it away:” Let me.” He does.

He looks down at you then, with a similar gaze to the one you had when you watched him get ready. And just like him before, you don't notice him watching, too focused on the task at hand. His gaze lingers on your slightly scrunched-up face, the way your tongue pokes out ever so slightly as you concentrate.

He's not sure why but he tries to memorize the beauty in it. It's not the beauty he usually sees in women- even though he can't deny your attractiveness. It is like the beauty of traffic lights reflected on wet pavement after a sudden rainfall, the one that you notice while you're stuck at a red light.

One that doesn't last, not even until the streets have dried. Only until the light turns green. Fleeting moment.

You pat his chest lightly once you're done, stepping back to approve your own work:” That's better.” He wants to agree. Say something to go back to the moment he'd just been in. He doesn't. Instead he hears himself say:” Let's get started on the rest of those files.”

You're already on your second evidence carton by the time Steve arrives. He gives both Javi and you a quick nod before he sits down at his desk and starts going through the messages that have been left for him. As he puts the last one down, he stifles a yawn:” God, I feel like shit.”

He turns his head into your direction:” How do you manage to look so well rested this fucking early?”

You almost spit out the coffee you had been drinking, choking on it slightly as your face turns a bright shade of red. You automatically glance towards Javi- only to find that the asshole is chuckling to himself.

Wiping the coffee off your lips, you shoot him a silent glance and he seems to take pity because a moment later he's diverted Steve's attention onto himself:” Probably because she is smart enough to not have a baby at home that cries every time it poops.”

“It's what infants do, Javi.” Steve defends his baby softly but it's clear that he is exhausted from his new parenting duties.

The two start bickering and you find yourself finally able to relax again, once more burying your nose in the files.

A few hours later, while you're eating lunch with Steve, he is still going on about the little one. Being a parent is exhausting but the truth is that with him and Connie being pretty much the only embassy personnel with a child, they never have trouble finding a loving colleague who will happily jump on the opportunity of babysitting for a night.

“...we just don't want her to be too spoiled. Of course people got her christmas presents- it being her first and all- but when Javi was over-” You raise your head so fast that Steve breaks off and stares at you.

You quickly try and swallow your food before the question slips off your tongue:” Javi was babysitting?” Steve chuckles a little at that:” Oh trust me, I was worried too. But she likes him. Probably because of his mustache. She loves to pull on it. He'll make a different face every time she does and..” He trails off, shaking his head:” Sorry, that's not exactly interesting.”

“Right.” You say as you bow your head again a little. Steve doesn't seem to notice that you barely listen to anything else he tells you during the remainder of your shared lunchtime.

When you had left to go to the cafeteria, Javi had stayed behind, mumbling something about wanting to check a file downstairs. It wasn't a lie technically, he tells himself as he reaches the file storage room he's looking for. He glances up and down the corridor and then quickly slips inside, not turning on the light to avoid drawing attention to himself.

“It's gotta be here..” He mutters to himself as he skips through some files in the dim cone of light that his flashlight provides. Finally, he finds the one he's been looking for. But as soon as he pulls it out, he notices how light it is. And when he looks inside, his suspicions are confirmed: The file is empty. There is a small note inside of it, which generally means average clearance isn't enough to access it. The files are sealed. As his brain is still trying to come up with a solution, he hears footsteps coming down the hallway.

Javi curses under his breath and more or less slams the file shut, shoving it back into the cabinet as he turns off his light and presses himself against a wall. Slowly, the footsteps fade away. He gives it another few seconds for good measure before he slips out of the door, his head turned into the direction the footsteps had disappeared into. There is no one to be seen and he breathes a small sigh of relief.

He closes the door behind himself and turns around- to find his partner leaning against the wall, an eyebrow raised expectantly. Javier's eyes widen for a moment before they narrow:” Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Murphy?”

The blonde man gives a small chuckle but shakes his head:” I have as much right to be down here as you do. However-” He points towards the door Javier had just slipped out of:” I do seem to remember some rule about having to request file access to these.”

Javi realizes he's watching him, calculating. When he doesn't reply, Steve pushes himself off the wall, stepping closer as his tone shifts:” What were you looking for, Peña?”

The other man raises his hands in defeat, letting out a small breath before he pinches his nose slightly:” If I tell you, will you help me?” He asks in a low voice. By the way Steve looks, Javi knows the other man is intrigued:” Maybe. If I consider it worth looking into.”

There is a small pause during which Steve turns, making sure they are still alone:” This about Escobar?”

“Actually, it's not.” Javi says quietly.

Steve raises a brow. Definitely intrigued now:” Then what? You lost the address of your favorite hooker or something?”

Javi makes a face, deciding to not give in to their bickering for once.

“It's about Y/N.” He mumbles after a moment:” The files Vázquez mentioned, the ones that have info on-”

”Oh, you can't be serious.” Steve groans, leaning against the concrete wall again.

“What?” Javi asks, maybe a little too defensive to be completely unsuspectful:'' They are sealed, Steve. Why would they be sealed?”

The other man takes a deep breath, studying Javis face:” It's not our job. Or our concern. If she doesn't tell you-”

”Vázquez knew. And I'm sure she didn't talk to her.” Steve seems to lose his patience at that.

“Javi, has your dumbass ever considered that the files are sealed because she wants them to be?”

That shuts him up real quick.

They both stay quiet, Javi fumbling with the pack of Malboros in his pocket that always seems to get roughed up, no matter how quickly he goes through it.

Steve is still watching him. He sighs: “Look, Javi, we have an actual job to do here. I'm sure she's fine. Let's get back to the files, yeah? Worry about what really matters.”

“Sure.”

Javi follows him down the corridor and back up the stairs. When they pass the small back door that leads to the parking lot, he gestures over to it:” I'll be right up. Just wanna grab a smoke.” If Steve notices his behavior, he doesn't say anything, only calling back to him as he's already climbing the next set of stairs:” Don't take too long.”

Javi steps outside, into the gentle breeze. He leans against the concrete wall, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The noises of the city have returned and past the iron gates he can see people bustling on the way to their appointments, to their lunch dates, to whatever it is they do.

He allows his mind to wander back to the early morning hours, how different everything looked then. It had felt like something had been out of place, missing. He had assumed it was the people. But now he isn't so sure. He can't shake that feeling. That lingering feeling of waiting at a traffic light. Of something passing by too quickly.

Something isn't right. It isn't his job to find out what.

He doesnt care and he can't shake that feeling and he already knows that he'll make it his job anyway.

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aheckinmess · 16 days

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Where There's a Will, There's a Wave (Dad Nanami)

(Part 1 of Season of Serendipity.) Read on AO3.

Tags: Dad Nanami, Kid Yuji, Dad Gojo, Kid Fushiguro, Beach Day, Nanami Needs a Vacation, So Beach Day It Is, Gojo is a Giant Man Child, But We Still Love Him

Word Count: 1,009 words

Summary: Nanami takes Yuji on a car ride and surprises him with a beach trip!

"Otouchan, where are we going?" Yuji chirped in the backseat as Nanami continued their journey to the beach. "Is Uncle Gojo going to be there?"

Nanami would never understand what Yuji found so fascinating about Satoru Gojo (the man was an idiot) but he allowed himself a small smile at the boy's excitement. Yuji's pink, fluffy hair twisted this way and that as he wiggled in his car seat in a desperate attempt to look out the window.

"You'll see, Yuji-kun." Nanami repeated for the fifteenth time. "We're almost there. And yes, Gojo-san will be there. So will Fushi-kun."

"Yaayyy!!" Yuji squealed, squeezing his stuffed panda bear tight.

The horizon cut in two as they drove closer and the tree line disappeared. A stark line between blue sky and white sand relaxed Nanami's muscles instantly. Gojo may be a giant child himself, but I can't deny needing a chance to rest from work.

He pulled them into the parking lot and quickly unbuckled Yuji, setting him down after putting on his backpack. Then, he grabbed the cooler and a large umbrella before locking the car.

He chuckled when Yuji stood immobile, staring with awe at the beach stretching before both of them.

"The beach!" Yuji shrieked. "Will we get to swim?!"

"Yes, Yuji-kun. All in good time. First, we have to go find where Gojo-san and Fushi-kun have set up." He started walking while keeping an eye behind him. "Keep up with me."

The little boy was insatiable. He trotted circles around Nanami, babbling the whole way. And when Gojo came into view? Not even a Special Grade would have been able to keep Yuji from speeding headlong towards him.

"UNCLE GOJO!" Yuji squawked, kicking sand up and losing a sandal in the process.

Nanami shook his head with the huff of a chuckle as he found the spot Gojo set up and started setting their things beside it. Fushiguro toddled right up to him.

"Do you need help, Uncle Nananmi?"

Whereas Yuji kept heaps of energy stored up and running constantly, Fushiguro was of a milder temperament. Gojo and Nanami often joked that they adopted the wrong child.

But Nanami wouldn't trade Yuji for anyone or anything.

"I've got it, Fushi-kun. But your offer is appreciated." He praised, before turning to Yuji and Gojo, who already had his son on his shoulders.

"Gojo-san! Bring Yuji over here so I can give him some sunscreen."

"Aaahhh, but we're having so much fun, Nanami!" Gojo laughed as he tromped under the umbrella to him.

"Thank you. Hold still, Yuji-kun."

After the addition of sunscreen and the subtraction of his shirt, Nanami finally stepped out with Yuji towards the ocean. Poor little Yuji had to waddle with all of his floaties, but even that didn't stop his happy squeals.

"Otouchan, swim with me?" Yuji's big brown eyes sparkled up at him.

"You didn't think I'd let you go alone, did you?" Nanami chuckled, wading with him into the salty brine. "Careful. You can't open your eyes underwater here like you can in our pool."

"Why?"

"Because it'll burn your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because there's salt in the water, and it'll burn."

"Why?"

"Because there's a higher saline content in ocean water than there is in your tears."

"But why?"

"That's just how it is, Yuji-kun." Nanami turned Yuji as a large wave crashed into them. Yuji toppled forward and scrambled to get back on his feet, eyes wide. "Whenever the big waves come towards you, turn your back to it. It'll make it easier to stay on your feet."

"Heeeyyy, Nanamiiii!" Gojo whooped to his left, running into the water and body surfing.

He turned and saw Fushiguro standing at the water's edge, dipping his toe into the water and then shaking his foot. His little lip trembled.

"Come on, Fushi-kun. We'll wait for you!" Nanami called out, keeping Yuji at his side while they waited.

Fushiguro hesitated for a moment before hopping into the water. He squeezed his eyes shut and then peeked out, before he smiled, his five-year-old mind starting to realize he wouldn't get sucked in.

When he made it to Nanami and Yuji, he looked for Gojo.

"Where's–"

"WOOOO!" Gojo popped up behind Nanami and whipped up a wave of water that splashed against his back.

Both Yuji and Fushiguro giggled as Nanami slowly turned to the white-haired man child.

"Are you frustrated with me?" Gojo asked with a smirk.

"Never." And Nanami wrapped an arm around Gojo's neck before slamming him into the ocean.

. . . . .

By the time the four boys stepped back towards their beach spot, everyone was hungry and ready for a break. Especially the two little ones.

"I've got watermelon." Nanami offered, pulling out a large container of cut melon.

"I've got kikufuku!" Gojo licked his lips and helped set up two small portions.

"Why am I not surprised?" Nanami shook his head before grabbing Yuji's plate and offering it to him. "And don't forget to stay hydrated." He reminded his son, handing over a small water bottle.

For a time the sound of gentle, lapping waves harmonized with the sound of little mouths munching. Nanami ate a few slices of watermelon and leaned back on his elbows, closing his eyes and letting the wind tousle his hair.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Gojo asked as the kids kept eating.

"A better day than I'd been expecting." Nanami answered, digging his fingers into the sand.

He only opened his eyes when he felt a paper plate nudge his pinky.

"Otouchan, can we build a sand castle?" Yuji asked, eyes round and pleading.

"You finished that quickly, didn't you?" He smiled and took Yuji's plate, stuffing it into a trash bag. Then he tickled his toddler's sides with a huff of a laugh. "Go get your toys and we'll set up over there."

"Okay!"

"Aww, look at youuuu being a good daaaddd!" Gojo taunted, earning him a hair full of sand from his blonde-haired peer. "Hey! That'll be stuck in my hair for days!"

"Serves you right."

#jjk fanfiction #kento nanami #satoru gojo #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #Parental Gojo #Parental Nanami #Cute Yuji Itadori #Nanami Needs a Vacation #So Beach Day It Is #Gojo is a Giant Man Child #But We Still Love Him #Yuji is a Little Ball of Sunshine #Fushiguro is a Sweet Bean Child

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starlit-hopes-and-dreams · 9 months

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Word Find Tag

Catch up p2 - Thanks for the tag in May 😶, @oh-no-another-idea! <3

My words: flinch, interrupt, idiot, name, and bottle

Your words: shift, soothe, secret, support, and suspicious

Gently tagging: @i-can-even-burn-salad, @outpost51, @winterandwords, and You, if you want. Here's an Open Tag :)

Moving on down the list, these words will be from Shattered Soul (welcome to unedited-ville lol)

Flinch & Name Kiala

Her eyes darted around the room. "Am I—" she cleared her throat, "am I a prisoner here?" Puzzled, Kiala placed a hand over hers, pretending not to notice her flinch. "Why in Reyanel's name would you be a prisoner?" Her auburn brows drew together, her eyes narrowing as if she thought Kiala was crazy, or slow. "Because apparently, I am a human in the fae lands. Even if nothing I've heard about the fae is true, I can't imagine I'd be welcome here." Okay… this was an interesting development. Kiala moved back to the chair, the tenseness in the female's body giving her all the clues she needed as to whether she welcomed tactile comfort right now. "Would you mind sharing your name? Referring to you as "the female" is getting a little tiresome." The female stared, an indecipherable look crossing through her jewel-toned eyes. Serafae, she had to be a serafae, with those eyes. Kiala saw absolutely no evidence of human ancestry anywhere she looked. "Alaia," the female finally croaked out. "Thank you, Alaia." Kiala gave her a gentle smile. "I'm not sure why you think you're human. Everything about you screams fae, except for your eyes, which leads me to believe you're a seraph and fae halfling."

Interrupt Darian

Are you guys going to have sex already? I've been waiting forever and I'm bored. Darian brought his head up to find Alaia's dragon, Fyel, hovering over their shoulders. His interruption cleared the haze of lust from his mind, and he stepped back, leaving Alaia flushed and panting against the wall. Gods, he had to get ahold of himself. They needed to get out of his rooms. Grasping at straws, he said the first thing that came to mind. "You mentioned wanting a haircut." Fyel swooped in to land on Alaia's shoulder. Eloquent, isn't he? She shook her head, amusement replacing the glazed look in her eyes.

Idiot Alaia

Alaia woke in her room at the Hall of Healing on the fourth day of Darian's absence, missing him so much her heart ached. She curled up in her bed and attempted to reason with the stupid organ, to tell it how ridiculous it was to miss someone this much when she'd barely spent any time with him. Her heart didn't listen, and she was trying to hold back reaching out to Aleix until a more decent hour when a knock sounded on her door. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Alaia pushed aside the books littering her bed and sat up. A glance out her window revealed a soft red glow lightening the navy of the night sky, but the sun hadn't even crested the horizon yet. Gods, she hoped she hadn't leaked her emotions. It was then she felt the bond thrumming inside her, pulling her gaze toward the door. It had been faint with the distance between them, but now… Alaia? It's me. I know it's early, but can I come in? She leapt out of bed at the sound of Darian's mindvoice and practically threw herself at the door. Her fingers fumbled on the lock, but she finally got it open, barely daring to breathe. And there he was. Darian was hardly visible in the shadowed hallway, with his black hair and black leathers and brown skin. His eyes were the only part of him that caught the faint light coming in through her window, and Alaia found herself standing there like an idiot, drowning in a sea of amber.

Bottle Serin

"Gods Serin, how bad was it to start with if it still looks like this after multiple Healers have been at you?" Lyre asked. He was starting to feel woozy, and he leaned harder into Bell's sturdy chest. "Filleted like a fish, one of the Healers said." Serin laugh-cried. Bell cursed under his breath. "Are they trying to kill you? I've never seen another mage delivered to the common room in your condition." Lyre's face was hard as she agreed, then she turned, speaking softly to the mage on her other side. From the gods only knew where, a roll of bandages and a cloth were delivered, along with a sealed bottle. She uncorked it with her teeth, and the pungent scent of straight alcohol assailed Serin's nose, making his eyes water. Or maybe the moisture streaking down his face was just him crying. Again.

#starlit plays tag games #word find tag #shattered soul #i spent entirely too much time searching for these words #not bc they were hard to find #but bc i kept getting sucked into the story #this book is dangerous for me lol i like it too much #should be interesting to try to edit when the time comes

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fandom-blackhole · 1 year

Text

Northern Attitude

AN: Hannah writing?? Hell honestly must have frozen over for this to have happened, which I can neither confirm nor deny. This was supposed to be done sooner but well you're all getting it now, a gift from me on my bday. I will not make any promises for the future, but I hope my writing stump has passed. I hope you enjoy this and are as excited as me for the HBO show! As always all REBLOGS and COMMENTS are super appreciated!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (no Y/N, no physical description, does have a nickname)

Rating: Mature 16+

Words: 11k

Summary: Joel has always been a pain in your side since he moved into Jackson. The two of you butt heads often and avoid each other the best you can, but what happens on a patrol during a snowstorm may lead to some realizations. Reader's backstory inspired by Northern Attitude by Noah Kahan

Warnings: reader is really snippy towards Joel, foul language, canon typical violence (can be disturbing for some readers so feel free to message me for more descriptive warning), reader has nightmares, descriptive headache pain, Joel and reader get snowed in for a bit, no sexual content rating purely for violence, reader has no described gender but does have mention of a past family (as always, I'm sure I missed something so feel free to tall me so I can add it)

Fear.

Panic.

Running.

Lungs burning.

Trembling.

Heart ache.

Adrenaline.

Panic.

Cold.

.--. .- -. .. -.-.

Gasping, you bolt upwards. Bed, you’re just in bed, it was only a dream. You stare at your ceiling for a few minutes, taking deep breaths to calm your still racing heart, before letting out a deep sigh. Closing your eyes once more as you rub your forehead feeling the aches of a headache coming on, sighing out to no one but yourself, “It’s going to storm today.”

You only allow yourself a few more seconds to sit there quietly before pulling away the thick covers, allowing the chill of the air to settle across your tired body despite the darkness still enveloping the outside world. You don’t linger in your bedroom long, just staying long enough to pull on your warmest clothes, making sure to put on multiple layers for what is to be a bitter and biting day, making sure to finish off with the thick knitted sweater you loved so much, the cream color of it long faded and stained brown for reasons you’d rather not think of at the moment, but the wornness always bringing you comfort.

Leaving your room, you find that the rest of your little home feels just as suffocating as your bedroom. Unable to take the suffocation, feeling the clawed hands of the need to scream grip your throat, you turn to your door making quick work of lacing up your boots and pulling on your coat before pulling your door open and leaving your home. You don’t think, just walk, allowing the cold to numb both your body and mind as you trekked your way through Jackson, watching as the sun slowly crept over the horizon, grazing the tips of the houses in gold.

Once it was light enough out you steer your feet towards Tommy’s office, or what he liked to call his office even though everyone in town knew it to be Maria’s, his wife’s office. You figured it’d be nice to get your patrol assignment early enough to be able to get through the path with you whoever your partner was in time to beat the storm that you could now see making its way towards the town, hoping to whatever cruel god out there that you weren’t up to do the Haywood patrol because it was certain that the poor bastards on that path, the longest of the patrols, were going to by caught in the storm.

When you finally made it to the building you weren’t at all surprised to find yourself to be the first one there, so you just sighed and let yourself lean against the cold brick of the wall beside the door. Closing your eyes, you take in a lung full of the cold air, feeling it burn your throat in a way that you have long since found comforting. What comforts you most though is the fact that your brain is too tired from your tossing and turning all night, so you don’t have to deal with the thoughts that you usually find rattling around, instead you find silence, of which allows you to enjoy listening to the birds slowly wake, enjoying their sweet songs.

You’re not sure how long you stand there for, but eventually you hear someone clear their throat. Opening your eyes slowly, you find Tommy standing beside you, opening the door with a smile on his face.

“You gotta stop showin’ up here before me, North. Maria’s gonna notice one of these days and give you my job,” he says as he lets you walk in first. You shake your head and roll your eyes, even though your back is to him, and he can’t see, before plopping down in the metal chair you’d long since dragged to the corner of the room.

“Maybe she should, bet it’d be good for you to be placed on patrols for a while, humble you up just a bit.”

You smirked as Tommy laughed and looked up from the desk he was now behind, sorting through papers, before picking one up, saying, “Hey now, I do patrols about once a month, usually with you. So, keep your voice down before the walls get any ideas.”

That makes you laugh, a smile forming on your lips. Tommy’s incessant jokes that Maria always seemed to hear things through the walls always got to you. You find yourself envious of their relationship sometimes as it reminded you of a simpler time. You looked back to Tommy after a second of looking around, asking, “Can I see the patrol list today? Woke up feeling a storm coming on and I’d rather get an early start.”

You watch Tommy’s eyes flicker over to you for just and second, his jaw clenching and a look of hesitation crossing his features just briefly enough for you to catch it before he cleared his throat, making his face neutral, faking a quirk of his lips before looking over to you fully as he sat down behind the desk. In his hands, the paper he was holding now folded over as if you could some how see behind him, as he met your eyes, making his tone light as he said, “That so? Well let’s hope that storm isn’t too bad, rather not have to go searchin’ for anyone once the storm clears.”

You make sure not to break eye contact feeling lightness in your attitude drop, knowing that Tommy caught your change in demeanor as your eyes harden against his gaze. He was avoiding your question, trying to hide something from you.

Leaning forward in your chair you patiently call his name, to which he only responded by breaking the eye contact, looking back down at the desk, and busying himself with the papers in front of him. You let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl while rubbing your forehead, this morning’s headache back to taunt you. You find your patience thin already.

“You might as well as rip the bandaid off because I’m too tired to be playing games right now, Tommy.”

You look back up as Tommy sighs and leans back in the chair, giving up on his attempt to seem busy. He doesn’t fully look at you as he finally says, “You’ve been assigned Haywood today. Last week’s patrol of the area reported sounds of infected, but they couldn’t pinpoint the location and you know that path well, I figured you’d be the best to track them down an’ flush ‘em out.”

Dragging your hand down your face, you sigh and nod. He unfortunately had a point, as much as you hated it.

“Ok, ok so I’ve got Haywood. There’s no way I’m doing that patrol on top of tracking down some infected and still be able to make it back before that storm gets here. Depending on where the infected are and how long it takes to get to them, I should be able to hole up in either the old mortuary or that college dorm check-in point on the trail.”

Tommy nodded, interlocking his fingers, resting them on his stomach. It’s quiet in the room as you start building up a plan, figuring what building or areas would need to be checked, making sure to plan a path that intersects all of the check-in points so you could sign the books, but you find yourself pausing brows still furrowed in thought as you ask, “Who’s the unlucky person I’m partnering with today?”

You find yourself met with silence once again, so you repeat yourself again, thinking you may have just mumbled the question before, to caught up in thought to notice, but as you focus on Tommy once more you find him avoiding your eyes once more.

“Tommy Nathaniel Miller, who. is. my. partner?”

“First, my middle name is not Nathaniel. Second…… Joel was assigned to be your partner,” you find yourself clenching your jaw, getting readying to say something, when Tommy jumps back in, his voice calm, “Maria and I decided that you’d both be the best for the job. We really need those infected taken care of before winter truly sets in.”

You shook your head the entire time he spoke, standing up, a scowl etched deep onto your face now. You start stomping over to the door, but Tommy calls out your name, rushing out, “Where ‘re you goin’, North?”

Whipping around, you take a deep breath, glaring at him, before saying, “To get my horse and guns. If I want to get this patrol done, I am leaving now. Without your brother.”

Tommy says your name again, more exasperation in his tone this time as he walks around the desk, “Listen, between the two of you, you’ll be able to get it done the quicke-“

“No, I refuse. We both know I could do this patrol with my eyes closed. So, either I leave now, by myself, or I won’t be doing the patrol at all. Fuck it, I’ll quit patrols and go work with Shelia. She’s always trying to recruit people to help with all the kids.”

Tommy lets out a frustrated sigh, opening his mouth to retort when the door opens behind you and you see him deflate just a second before a feminine voice asks, “You spill the beans too soon?”

Tommy responds by rubbing a hand down his face as he leans back against the desk. Maria walks out from behind you and over to Tommy before turning to you. Maria has always been one to call the shots, and you’ve always listened because she’s always respected your boundaries, but in that moment, you level her with the same hard look you’d been giving Tommy, trying to make it clear that you were not budging. To which Maria in turn crosses her arms with a sigh, leveling you with a hard look of her own.

“Listen, just for this one time we need the two of you to do this. Think of it as a favor.”

“No, not happening.”

Tommy gave you a pleading look, “Please, North.”

Resisting the urge to slam your head against something, you closed your eyes taking a few deep breathes, telling yourself it’s too early in the morning to start yelling. So instead, when you opened your eyes, your piercing look still sharp, you replied, “I’m not even sure why the two of you are even trying. We all know he won’t agree to this either.”

Your words sat there for a second, enough that you think that they may bend, but you didn’t notice Maria’s gaze flicker behind you until after a gruff voice spoke up, “I already agreed.”

Looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Joel’s stoic, hazel gaze. You just roll your eyes and scoff. Looking back to Tommy and Maria, you straightened your back making sure to look them both in the eye before turning around and walking to the door, not bothering to even look at the older Miller sibling. Tommy started to call your name again, but you just interrupted him, saying without turning around, gripping the door handle, voice colder than the air outside, “You better be at the gate and ready when I get there or I’m leaving your ass behind.”

With that you walked out the door.

-. --- .-. - ....

Much to your chagrin, Joel had been at the front gate when you arrived not fifteen minutes after storming out of the office, and just from giving him a once over you could see that he had everything he needed and more. You had just walked past him with your horse as the boys on the wall opened the gate, you not even sparing a glance at Joel as you walked past him. The second you were clear of the wall, you pull yourself up onto your horse, not waiting for Joel, not caring if he was following you, as you steer your horse to start towards Haywood.

Things continued in silence for a while, Joel steering his horse to follow behind your own keeping a decent amount of distance between the two of you. For some reason, the silence felt both perfect and deafening. You didn’t care to make small talk- or any talk, really- with the man trailing after you, but the silence always seemed to echo around your tired skull, causing a deep aching across your forehead. Then again that was only when you didn’t already have pain rattling around in your head much like you did now. Instead, at this moment as you made your way through the trees, it felt like hot nails were being hammered into your head, creating and invisible crown that only you could feel.

You rubbed at your eyes as the pain blurred them slightly, wishing now more than ever that being able to have the luxury of a pharmacy was still an option, or better yet the luxury of being able to spend the day in bed, sleeping the pain away. But luxuries no longer existed and those who did take part in them found themselves not lasting long in this new way of life.

As you exited the cluster of trees, nearing the first checkpoint, you paused and looked at the sky. They were easy to spot, the dark encroaching clouds heavy and rolling with moisture, ready to let it drop and cover the earth in a soft, blinding white blanket. You let yourself pause for only a second more, watching the clouds darken a corner of the bright sky, letting yourself feel the wind whip and bite at your face. Then you pulled your horse to follow the short path to the old watch tower turned checkpoint.

Gently you slid from your mount, patting her side as you tied her up, humming gently as she nudged you. Smiling you rubbed the side of her face, before turning to walk up the stairs to the small lookout. The room really wasn’t much, though you suspect it never really was, its purpose to serve not really for comfort. There was a small cot in the corner that would barely fit one person, piled with a few spare blankets. Next to it, there was a desk holding the check in book where you walked over placing your own initials and a small note of no infected having been encountered.

After signing in, you turned to find Joel in the opposite corner of the small room, crouched and running his fingers along the tattered books taking up the small bookcases that sat along the wall, most of them sun faded, and weather beaten. You watched him for a moment, taking in the soft way his rough, calloused finger trailed along the fragile spines. Though you found yourself sighing and crossing your arms, turning to look out the window behind you as his gruff voice finally broke the silence, “So am I goin’ to be made privy to whatever plan you’ve cooked up, or am I jus’ supposed to follow your lead?”

You close your eyes for a second, closing them off from watching the dark swirling clouds, as you raised your left hand to rub against your temple. Sighing again, you turn and find that Joel had silently made his way across the tiny space towards you. Watching his face for a second before you look away, wincing just slightly at a sharp pain against your temple, deciding that you truly weren’t in the mood for hostility today.

“How well are you acquainted with Haywood?”

“Well enough to know where the check in’s are situated.”

Nodding, deciding that was a good enough answer, before turning to look out the window again, crossing arms, letting your hands cup your elbows. “Well, I hope you’re looking forward to coming to know this area on more personal terms. Tommy said that the last patrol could hear infected somewhere but couldn’t track them down. So, our priority is to find them and dispose of them, meaning we are veering off path. I was thinking of a zigzag pattern throughout the area, make it so that no stone will be left unturned or unchecked. That also means that our patrol is going to take nearly three times as long to complete.”

Swallowing, you turn to face him once more, catching his hazel eyes with your own hard gaze. Joel gave you a nod, a sign of approval. You didn’t need nor want the approval, knowing you were going to go about this your way no matter what anyway, but the sign of neutrality, of no anger or arguing was a bit relieving at that moment.

“We also aren’t going to be able to make our way back to Jackson before that storm hits, so just….be ready to have to hunker down until it passes. I have a few good safe spots that will be good to ride out a storm in, but if we can I’d prefer to be in that college dorm, one of the checkpoints on the patrol, or the mortuary as they have the most room for us both and room to bring the horses in with us.”

The old watch tower gave a clear view of the surrounding area, so you made sure to point out the places you mentioned as you spoke and noticing Joel’s gaze following along and nod when you finished. You kept your gaze on the small dorm building, the last of what once was a small community college still standing as you continued.

“With luck, we’ll find and clear out the reported infected before the storm and not have to search for them after everything settles and this will only take us two days at most.”

Joel let out a gruff hum at your words, “And without luck?”

You turned to him, face deadpan and tired and replied, “Well if we don’t find the infected before the storm that’ll add at least another half a day, and that’s given the storm lets up through the night,” pausing you turn towards the dark, foreboding clouds once more and finished, “But by the look of those clouds there is a strong chance we’re going to be huddled up somewhere for anywhere from a half a day to possibly three, its looking to be bigger than I first anticipated.”

With that said, you turned to leave the small watch tower, not waiting for Joel to reply, not that you were expecting him too anyway.

... - --- .-. –

The two of you managed to hit the second of the four check-in points around midday. In all honesty, you were content with your progress so far, having managed to cover about a fourth of the area already while keeping ahead of the storm just slightly, the skies yet to fully darken, only sitting at a dreary grey so far. You couldn’t be too happy with your progress so far however, because you both have yet to hear or find any traces of the reported infect and with the longer it was taking to find them, the more the encroaching storm was pressing against forward and making the headache you woke up with pound, your thoughts turning sluggish and warbled together.

Sliding from your horse you rub at your face with both hands- your fingers numb and stiff from the cold- and sighed before turning to your companion, none too thrilled to find his eyes already on you. Reaching out, you grab his horse’s reigns from his hand and motioned to the old stone house with your head.

“Go sign us in, I’ll take the horse around back to the pond. Give them a chance to get a drink.” Joel watched you for a second, his eyes in the moment felt like he was seeing through every mask and wall you’ve built, seeing you for you as he all too often seemed to do, and you hated it. So, you levelled him with an annoyed, cold look and snipped, “We don’t have all day if you would so kindly remember,” before tugging both horses away as you heard an unimpressed grunt and footsteps fading into the building.

Once in the old stone cottage’s backyard, you lead the horse to the small garden pond. Both thankfully taking the opportunity to drink, which you gladly followed suit with your own canteen while scanning the area. Things have been quiet so far, as they usually were on Haywood as there was almost never any activity in the area. The quiet on this patrol usually comforted you, allowed you a sense of reconnecting with nature without having to be on edge the entire time, bringing you a small amount of peace in a world with none left in it. However, knowing that there was something lurking in the quiet this time made it unsettling, tense as opposed to the comfort you’d become familiar with.

Watching the horses drink, you fiddled with the lid of your canteen, screwing it, and unscrewing it as you dredged through your thoughts trying to make a list of the most possible places the infected could be hiding. There was the old corner store towards the back of town, covered in brush and secluded away in such a way that many who patrolled Haywood either forgot to check it or didn’t bother to. Or the sun-bleached Lutheran church, the building rotting and unstable as the rains have rotted the wood and heavy snows have collapsed most of the roof, leaving behind an unstable steeple and a basement that has been almost entirely collapsed upon. The small-town museum was also an option, the building a few stories tall and full of pioneer artifacts that may have once been interesting but have long since lost value with everyone’s need for survival becoming more important. There was also a number of houses that would need to be searched, a small log cabin, a two-story brick house, the 4 still standing cookie cutter houses, the old six-bedroom bed and breakfast, the house turned apartments behind the post office, and so many other places.

Your fingers found themselves rubbing at your eyes attempting to clear the blurriness from your vision before pressing against your temples, eyes closed you tried focusing on the sound of the wind, the horses at the edge of the water, the slight rustle of the tall dried dead grass. Allowing yourself to focus on the soft, calm for only a moment.

“We don’t have all day if you would so kindly remember,” you heard your own words echoed back to you, huffed through Joel’s thick southern accent.

Clenching your jaw you turn your head to glance over your shoulder, more upset that he was able to sneak up on you rather than the fact that your few seconds of peace had been interrupted. You made sure to shoot him a glare before walking over to lead your horse back around the house, mumbling to yourself, honestly not caring if Joel heard you or not.

“For someone with a fat ass ego you sure are a sneaky fucker.”

A huff behind you told you that he had heard your comment, and as you swung yourself onto your saddle, you caught his reply, “I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve managed to spit in my direction, North.”

“Yeah, don’t get used to it, South.”

-.-. .- .-.. –

The fucking daycare. Peeling, smiling and freckled yellow sun tormented you as your eyes stung, as your chest tightened, as red soaked the aged and mildew cover giant foam puzzle pieces, pooling around your boots as you just stared into the tacky sunglasses that fucking smiling sun was wearing. Your blood was rushing too loudly in your ears, adrenaline settling in your veins as you clenched and unclenched your jaw, your chest staggering with stunted breaths. Tracing the sun’s freckles you swallowed, willing moisture to return to your mouth and throat. Freckle, freckle, freckle, drip…... not freckles, there were no freckles only dark splatter. Blood splatter put there by your hands, hands that were still wet and slick, hands covered in thick blood yould feel, both present and long since washed away. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, it wasn’t fair, what had they done to deserve this?

You and Joel had been nearly to the third checkpoint, a small squatty building that’d been renovated into a diner, when the storm finally caught up to you. Large, fluffy snowflakes started falling, drifting softly on the wind, and finally, finally the thick pressure on your head started to lift, feeling almost clear headed for the first time that day. The sky had yet to fully darken, and the snow was floating to the ground almost lazily though, so the two of you continued to push ahead, intent on moving forward until forced to stop.

Ten minutes, ten short minutes from when it started snowing to when you first heard the first high pitched cry. It was still quiet enough that you pulled your horse to a stop, holding a hand up so that Joel would follow suit. The quiet echoed around you, birds already having taken shelter from the storm, the only sound was the wind and the horses’ breaths as white fluff collected on you both in your stillness. Just as you were about to shake it off as wind in the trees or some other bullshit you wouldn’t have fully believed, you heard it again. Turning to Joel to see if he heard it too, you found him pulling a revolver from his bag and leading his horse in the direction both cries had come from.

It took too long in your opinion to finally pinpoint where they were, the cries fading and quieting all too often, the sky continuously darkening and the temperature dropping each minute you continued this tiring and tense version of Marco Polo. Eventually you did figure out what building the sounds were coming from though. A sharp cry carried out the slightly ajar front door of the overgrown daycare as Joel and you turned the corner holding a crumbling building.

The two of you made quick work of jumping from your horses and tying them to trees sprouting from the broken concrete in front of the building. Cautiously you both in tandem approached the ajar door, crouching and listening carefully. Closing your eyes, you focus on your hearing, waiting with bated breath as you quietly heard one pair of feet shuffle then slowly another followed by a quieter shriek. Judging from the sound of the footsteps it seemed as if the infected, two or possibly three if one was holding still, were congregated in the back of the building together.

Opening your eyes, you looked to Joel and held up two fingers. In response he nodded, shuffling forward to press the door open wider to allow the two of you to creep in while still crouched. Luck was on your side for once as the door opened silently- a miracle considering the rusted state of the hinges- and the two of you split off after passing the front desk area, you taking the right as Joel took the left.

With the predicted amount of infected, you only pulled out your hunting knife, hoping to have the chance to do this quickly and quietly, both to conserve ammo and ever present need to stay quiet as possible and not draw any other possibly unwanted attention. You cleared two rooms quickly, both small and just full of old toys and colorful cubbies. Next was a kitchen and breakroom area which you paused in long enough to check the few drawers and cabinets, find a few rags and a pair of scissors which you stowed away in your bag. You paused once more to listen, still only managing to hear two pairs of quietly shuffling feet as well as Joel’s quieter sifting through rooms opposite to your own.

Quickly as you allowed, you moved on, watching as Joel slipped from one room to the next fluidly, gun raised in his hands as he ducked in. Two more rooms were left on your side, one large one left for Joel. Your next room looked a bit more aged up than the previous two rooms you’d been through. There was a bookshelf full of thin books, the walls had the alphabet and corresponding animals or items painted circling the room, one corner held play kitchen gear and an art easel, while the next held a stack of old cots, in the center of the room three longer tables sat pushed together in a U formation, and in the back of the room there was a door leading to an outside play ground so overgrown and fallen apart you weren’t sure you’d be able to tell the difference between what was once a slide or a see-saw. The room held nothing of value, so leaving you moved to the last and final room. The door to this room was in two parts, the top portion was open while the bottom was shut tight. As you approached you could hear that this is where the two infected had cornered themselves. They were quiet, feet shuffling lightly around the room. If you had to judge, you would guess that the two were in the latter half of the runner stage of being infected, the infection progressed into their dead rotting bodies so that they were slowed not as quick as freshly turned, but not having yet sat long enough for the cordyceps to take their sight and cause the ever-present clicking sound of the next stage of infection, clicker stage.

Not wanting to give away yourself as the two infected were both calm at that moment, you didn’t risk looking over the half door, simply turning the knob fully on the door, holding your breath as you heard both pairs of feet shuffle towards the back of the room, both sounding like they were headed to the same part of the room. Only then did you press the door open and made your way into the lion’s den. Right next to the door you found a wall of cubbies which you ducked behind, hoping that you could stay there long enough for one to wander your way and make it easier for you to sneak up on the second.

You got your wish after a few tense aching moments that felt like hours, clutching your knife tightly, ready to use it as the shuffle of feet came closer and closer to the door. Distinctly as you focused on the infected approaching your hiding spot, you hearded the other shuffle as well, but not close enough to stall your actions. Within seconds, the infected was within sight, acting quickly you lunged forward aiming for the twitching thing’s throat, realizing only as your knife sunk in and it dropped to the floor that it was small, too small. You didn’t get time to process though, as the sound of its fellow dead collapsing drew the attention of the second and last infected, its footsteps rushing towards you. Giving up you hiding spot, you jumped up, launching over the half wall of cubbies, meeting the second one have way as it turned to you, smaller than the first but teeth still bared in instinct and hate, leaving you to react much the same, driving your knife once more into its neck, effectively killing it as the tiny body dropped onto pieces of blue, yellow, and green foam.

You were frozen, eyes on the wall in front of you, watching a demeaning yellow fucking sun smile at you as all your eyes could really seen were small hate filled eyes, pig tails, a pink jacket with strawberry pockets, and blood, blood that you had spilt. Minutes or seconds, it had all only happened in the span of a few minutes or seconds, too quick, fight-or-flight and adrenaline took over your body trapping your slow to process brain behind a wall as survival instincts took over, watching your hands move of their own accord, not hesitating as your brain screamed to do too late and too muffled by the walls encasing it.

Minutes or seconds, maybe hours, you were too frozen to know, ears too full of ringing and the rush of blood to hear the footsteps, eyes too focused on the judging eyes hidden behind painted sunglasses to see the approaching figure. Only broken from your shock, thrust into the present like surfacing after jumping into deep waters, as a hand grasped your shoulder and turned you.

“-orth! North, come on, come back to the fucking present,” Joel’s voice muffled through the rushing, the static noise clearing when you met his eyes, and he said your name. You felt groggy, like you weren’t quite in your own skin just yet, both an observer and a participant. So, you found yourself fluttering your eyes, control slipping back to your own hands as your survival instincts faded away. Your chest still shuttering, you pulled away from Joel’s grip, not acknowledging his gaze or words, interrupting whatever he was saying, as your ears weren’t really hearing any of it anyway.

“We need to leave, storm’s getting worse,” walking away as you talked, your own voice sounding dead and hollow even to yourself, “We’ll skip the third checkpoint, we’re closer to the fourth one anyway, the..the college dorm is the best place to be during the storm anyway.”

You could hear Joel repeating your name, voice laced with emotion your brain too thick with shock at this point to be able to decipher, choosing instead to make your way to your horse and untie her even as Joel’s voice got louder. By the time you’d swung yourself up onto your horse Joel had given up, instead he climbed up onto his own horse with a clenched jaw, frustration rolling off of him just as thickly as the snow was now falling. You didn’t care though, just steered your horse in the direction of the dorm, moving her into a run as your brain circled one question, and one alone.

What had they done to deserve this?

.. -. ..-. . -.-. - . -..

The fire burned at your back, scorching after a day of nipping bitter cold. The horses were cozy downstairs in the lobby turned stable, hay and water and away from the raging storm happening outside. In your hands, you picked what was supposed to be your dinner, a cold roll and a handful of pieces of jerky. You couldn’t eat it though your mind too far away and unfocused. Your eyes stared out the window in front of you, trying to focus on watching the snowfall in thick droves, obscuring everything but what was visible a few feet in front of the glass, which was nothing at all. The lanterns lit around the room along with the small fire built in the small metal fire pit in the middle of the room cast glares of light against the window, the white backdrop making the window a near mirror. You could see the few couches drug into the room, circling the firepit, with old, weathered blankets draped along the backs for comfort in cases like these where groups got stuck on patrols during bitter nights. You could see the back of Joel’s head, leaning toward the fire, having chosen to sit on the couch facing away from your current lurking, giving you space and quiet after finding you quiet and unresponsive after settling in for the night, he hadn’t even said a word to you as he pressed your dinner into your now clean, but still heavy, hands. The worst part of the reflection though is attempting to avoid the empty, dead eyes and the tired and numb face that you were forced to realize were your own. No matter how hard you tried, your eyes always seemed to drift back to the unseeing reflection’s, you couldn’t pull yourself away from the person who watched you back wearing your own face.

You broke eventually, after who knows how long, letting the reflection win. The longer you had stared the less numb your eyes seemed to be, and the creeping sadness was not something you were yet ready to acknowledge, so you turned and walked quietly to the fire. As you passed Joel’s hunched figure, you emotionlessly pulled one of his hands from his face and shoved the roll that you’d nearly picked apart into it. He looked like he wanted to say something, the thoughts pressing against his tongue, but you turned away, grabbing a green and white checkered knitted blanket from the back of the couch you’d thrown your bag on top of hours earlier and reached for your rifle. Glancing through the scope to see if you needed, or wanted, to wipe it clean, as you said, “I’m taking first watch, sleep.”

“You really sure you’re up for that, North?”

You paused, back to Joel and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath quietly. You had hoped that Joel’s silence would continue, that the man would take the chance to sleep and let you leave to go downstairs with no fuss or argument, but unshockingly your hopes were dashed. So, you turned, throwing your rifle over your shoulder, gripping at the strap, and schooling your features into being numb and uncaring once more. “I won’t be sleeping for a while, South, so I might as well be fucking useful.”

Quiet surrounded you both for a few seconds, finding yourself once again locked in a staring contest, this time with eyes that were alive with frustration and were very much not your own. Joel gave in first, a tired sigh as he stood digging something from his bag’s side pocket. “I found this at the daycare…. figured you’d care to read it as well,” Joel levelled you with an unreadable look as he paused and handed the paper over to you. You looked over the folded, water stained and yellowing paper as you gave a small nod, turning to leave. You got a few steps away before his gruff accent had you pausing once more, “An’ North, wake me in a few hours for my watch.” Without turning, you just hummed acknowledging that you’d heard him, before leaving the room for good, scooping up the lantern by the door as you walked past.

The cold hit you immediately once again as you left the vicinity of the fire, and you welcomed it. The nip brought forth comfort almost, as it pushed away the unfeeling numbness for an aching cold instead. You breathed in and let the cold air burn at your throat as you descended the stairs and entered the old security office situated right next to where the horses both slept, the quiet allowing you to hear their quiet breaths.

Settling into the chair, you set the lantern on top of the desk and leaned your rifle next to you. It was going to be a quiet night, not much happened during these storms unless provoked, and with the added insurance that there was most likely nothing left lurking in Haywood, you allowed yourself to relax just a little, allowing the knowledge that you were now alone to let the emotions you’d been pushing back slowly wrap around you. The pain and disgust in yourself but also the world you lived in flowed through your body and down your cheeks. You bit your lip, forcing back the growing need to scream and muting the noises you were making. Wiping furiously at the burning trails down your face with the sleeve of your jacket, you curse every man and god responsible for making your world turn into this hellscape, for forcing your hands all in the name of survival, and for putting you through situations that have broken you time and time again, tiring you down and making it harder to keep getting back up everytime.

You cried your frustrations out, sitting there after a while just letting wetness flow as you glared forward, clenching and unclenching your jaw and hands until both hurt. You didn’t care how long you sat there, it could be an eternity and you still wouldn’t care, but eventually the tears stopped, and their tracks dried, and you could tell that you’d been there for a while as you finally took in the shaking of your hands and numbness of your feet from the cold creeping throughout your body.

Pulling the knitted blanket closer around your frame, you glanced down at the desk and your eyes caught the paper that Joel had handed you. Flexing your fingers to push away the stiffness of the cold, you reached forward and unfolded the thin sheet of notebook paper. What first caught your eye, past the shaky dark handwriting, was the drops of water that had smudged the words in places. Tears most likely. Then you noticed that it seemed as if whoever wrote the note had taken care and time, making sure no mistakes marred the page, folding it nicely and with love. The whole thing made your heart ache feeling the desperation and deep love of the writer’s words and actions. So, after taking a small breath for a bit of strength as you let your eyes trail over the carefully penned words:

I’m sorry, so so sorry.

I couldn’t do it, how could I? They are my babies, my children and I have let them down, failed them in the worst ways possible. I tried, so hard, I tried, but there was too many. I couldn’t take them all myself, not alone, not with what little ammo I had. It took everything, every instinct, every bit of strength, every act of survival just to get the three of us out and not let those things tear us apart. But at what cost? I gave everything to get us out, but it took everything from me in return. My little Lily only 7 and my brave Liam 12, my babies, my children, my last reasons left. Both were infected in the fight to escape, Liam got bit on his upper arm, the fear in his eyes when he noticed once we were to safety, and Lily, her mask broke is the panicked shuffle, forced to inhale toxins and let out wheezing coughs. I’m not sure if it was because they were younger, or what really, but they both managed to hold up for a few days, allowing us to get far away from that basement of hell, but it caught up to us, of course it did. Here though, surrounded by toys and memories of once happy childhoods they were content, Lily smiled, and I broke. I told myself that I would do it, that I would take the few bullets I had left, and I wouldn’t let them turn, that I’d go with them. But as they slept, and as I held the gun up, I couldn’t do it. They’re my children, how could I bring myself to do it? So, I am sorry. I know they won’t wake, not as themselves, come morning, so I just ask of whoever finds them, please grant them the mercy I couldn’t bring myself to give them, let them find me in whatever comes after. I am a coward, and I have failed my children, and I am sorry.

Tears once again dripped freely as you folded the paper and set it aside, wondering if this would be the last time you cried tonight as you knew it was going to be long and you weren’t planning on sleeping, nor planning to wake Joel until morning.

.-. . -- --- .-. ... .

Panic.

Blood.

Smoke.

Fire.

Screaming.

Fighting.

Death.

Blood.

Panic.

..-. . .- .-.

You jolt awake, gasping for air. The air that filled your lungs burned, the cold sending spikes of ice through your body after feeling like you’ve run a marathon. Your head was groggy and thoughts slow as you sat up from your slumped position in the office chair. Your back popped at the movement and your neck was stiff from the odd angle you’d fallen asleep in. You didn’t even remember falling asleep, you couldn’t have been asleep for long at all, you remember watching the skies darken throughout the night and then start to lighten as the sun rose, the snowstorm never letting up and falling continuously through the night. As you glanced outside now, it was obvious that there was a thick blanket of snow covering every surface and was continuing to grow thicker with each passing minute.

Sighing, you pushed yourself away from the desk and stood with a groan, joints aching from sitting in one position without moving for hours on end. You took a second to regain more feeling in your legs and feet, before scooping up the dimmed lantern and your rifle and making your way slowly up the stairs.

At the top, you could hear the crackle of a dying fire in the room you’d left hours earlier. Quietly you entered hoping to find your companion still asleep, not quite ready to deal with his frustrated and angry comments, knowing that Joel, the pain in the ass that he is, is going to rip into you for never waking him and staying awake all night instead of trading off for watch. It looked like some god was looking in your favor as when you walked over to the couches, the fire small, nearly burnt itself out and Joel was reclined on a couch, one hand pillowed beneath his head, his other covering his eyes.

You set your items down, making sure to double check the safety on your rifle before taking a second to hover your hands over the fire. Your hands and front warmed slowly after sitting chilled for so long, but once it felt like the ice that’d formed in your veins had melted, you gathered a couple of logs to add into the fire, careful not to suffocate what was left of the flames when you placed them in the firepit.

Stepping back, you sank onto a beaten couch, watching the flames lick over the wood, the embers slowly igniting the new wood. Sighing, you rubbed at your face, rubbing your eyes as bright spots danced in your vision from staring at the fire, hearing the faintest whisper of a voice long lost to time in the back of your head, don’t stare at the sun, you’ll ruin your eyes. An ache formed in your heart as you pushed the voice and its words back into the darkness of your mind, locking them away so they couldn’t hurt you.

Joel let out a deep breath in his sleep, drawing you to glance at him for a moment. He looked relaxed, something you’d never seen on his frame as he was always wound tight, tension so ingrained into his muscles that you’d thought it’d be impossible that he’d be able to relax anymore. But here he was, nearly melted into the couch lips slightly part and chest rising softly with each sleep induced breath. You were almost jealous of his ability to sleep so peacefully, but you didn’t dwell on it, everyone had nightmares nowadays, it could just be that Joel didn’t show his outwardly. Or he really could be the sociopath you’d thought he was when you first became acquainted, and what he’s seen, what he’s done, doesn’t bother him. Maybe the asshole was guilt free and not haunted by memories, unlike yourself.

Ripping your gaze away from him, you shook your head, your thoughts drifting too close to places you’d rather them not go having only a few hours ago managed to school your mask into place and patched the cracks that’d formed in your walls. It seemed the bricks and mortar were still too wet for your liking.

Grumbling, you dragged your fingers down your cheeks, mumbling to no one but yourself, “I’d amputate my left leg and pull out all my bottom teeth for a fucking cup of coffee right now.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be so tired if you’d woken me like you ‘re supposed to,” Joel’s voice grumbled, gruffer and his accent deeper from sleep. You didn’t even turn your head, just sunk back into the couch fully, huffing glaring at the man through the corner of your eye.

“Maybe I tried, and your grouch ass didn’t wake, South.”

“Bullshit, you never came back up those stairs, North.”

Grunting, you shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest, turning your gaze to the fire once more. Joel sat up and stared at you, his face blank but you could feel him taking in every discrepancy in your appearance, his eyes looking straight into the walls you’d just rebuilt, pushing against the cement, and frustrating you to no end. You ignored him, at least you tried to act like you were, but his gaze soured you, your face twisting in bitterness minutely but enough that you know his keen eyes picked up on expression.

“Still snowin’,” Joel grunted in question, and you just nodded. He hummed and dug in his bag and pulled out a can, tossing it to the cushion next to you. Picking up you saw it was just a can of creamed corn. Lifting your glaring gaze to his own hard gaze, Joel continued before you could say anything, “Good, eat that and sleep.”

He had tried to sound authoritative and tried to leave no room for arguments, but that tone always was like throwing gasoline on a fire. Scoffing, openly showing your disgust now, gripping the can so tight your fingers ached. Your gaze turned icy, and you bit out, “And why the fuck would I do that? Didn’t realize I gave you the authority to order me about, South.”

If Joel was a man to roll his eyes you imagined they would have gone to the back of his head with your retort. Instead, his face just went deadpan, and his gaze tinged with frustration.

“Goddammit, are you a fuckin’ teenager? Fuck, Ellie fights me less than you do,” he pauses just enough to let out a sigh, leaning forward before continuing, “You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, and I doubt you slept downstairs. I’m perfectly capable of takin’ care of things for a few hours while we wait for the storm. So, eat and go to goddamn sleep.”

Standing, you stomped over to Joel, leaning down until you were near nose to nose, leveling him with the most ‘go to hell’ look you could manage and slammed the can back into his hand. You glanced over his face before meeting his eyes, the hazel lit with burning emotions.

“I did sleep, South, just as well as I would have up here and just as fucking well as I do in my own bed back in Jackson,” something flashed in his eyes, a recognition, a knowing, but you ignored it in favor of continuing your tirade, “Some of us don’t fucking sleep, Joel, and I am not hungry, so keep that shit to yourself. I am not going to “eat and go to goddamn sleep.””

Just as quickly, you stood up straight again, anger coursing through your veins, and moved to turn away, to slink off back to your window from last night, maybe go back downstairs, wanting to be anywhere just as long as it was away from Joel who had you blood boiling. Joel’s reflexes were just as quick though, managing to snag your wrist and pull you to face his now standing stature, a growl in his throat as he said, “What is your problem? Is it what happened yesterday? Didn’t realize it only took two random infected to shake you, North.”

White, blinding white surrounded you, your actions taken away from your control, barely seeing as you felt your free arm swing up and slam against Joel’s cheek, his facial hair prickling your palm and the smack echoing around the quiet room. Joel stared at you, his barely contained anger written all over his face as your own wrinkled in disgust, ripping your wrist from his hand. Instead of walking away, you pushed into his space, driving the pointer finger of your now free hand into the center of his chest.

“Some random infected? You act like they weren’t fucking children. Children! I’m sorry if I am a little shaken after having to kill two children, infected or not doesn’t matter, not when they were the same age as my children were,” anger clouded your words, words that flowed with no filter as all walls came tumbling down. You weren’t seeing Joel, no you were flashing through memories. Viewing the smiling faces of your kids running around a play ground in a small military quarantine zone in Montana, seeing the foggy eyes of the infected little girl as you plunged a knife into her neck, watching as the quarantine zone fell around you trying to escape, reliving the moment that the anti-military group attacking your home set off a bomb causing a building to collapse and take everyone you loved from you, watching your hands bloody themselves digging through fallen bricks before being ripped away as you scream and fought.

When your gaze cleared, memories faded away, you found Joel’s eyes staring back into your own, his anger gone, replaced with a look of someone who understands your pain, who has lived through your pain. Your own anger simmering down, disappearing nearly completely, replaced with pain, and hurt so deep you wondered how you still stood upright. You could immediately feel tears cascading down your cheeks once more. You took a step back and shook your head, closing your eyes slowly as you whispered, “They weren’t just some random infected and you know that, South. You read that damned letter too.”

Stepping back again, you opened your eyes and turned away, making your way to the window. You paused when Joel’s voice echoed around the room, too loud but quiet all the same. “I was there, just outside the city, when the infected took over the first major city down in Texas,” he paused, and you glanced over your shoulder seeing his gaze staring blankly at the wall in front of him, you turned yourself to watch him better as he continued, “was with Tommy and my daughter…Sarah. We were trying to get out, away from the city, but to many fuckers had the same idea and near every path was blocked by other cars. A car crashed into our own and Sarah broke her leg. The three of us had to run, infected were everywhere running down people, killing ‘em. We did finally get away from them but walked into somewhere just as dangerous. There was a soldier, he shot at us. Tommy killed him, I was fine, but Sarah…she…she wasn’t, she died there and so did a big part of myself.”

Joel went quiet after that, still not looking at you, eyes fixed on the wall unmoving, unblinking. Your throat felt tight, tears still cascading down your cheeks. Casting your own gaze down, you picked at your nails. You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath.

“I was in college when that happened. I was married and we already had a son. We were far enough north that by the time the infected reached us the military had already herded us all into quarantine zones, QZs. We were shipped off to Montana and it was peaceful. I found myself with a second kid, a little girl this time with a smile that was infectious and devious to her very roots,” you paused, focusing on digging dirt from under your nails. Swallowing you continued, “An anti-military, anti-QZ, group showed up and started fighting with the soldiers. Each fight escalated until one day the group went too far. It was a warzone, gun fire, fires, explosions…. My husband was trying to get us all out, running through alleys to avoid getting hurt, trying to steer away from the fighting…. But then a bomb went off, or, or something, I’m not sure, but the building next to us collapsed. My husband had been carrying our youngest, holding our oldest’s hand so he didn’t lose him, and I was behind them. It….it was only because I was a few steps behind that I survived. They all went down with the building.”

Looking up, you found Joel watching you, his eyes tired and knowing. “The Fireflies?”

You huffed a watery laugh, swallowing as you quoted, “Look for the light… bunch of fake fuckers claiming to be fighting for the greater good while killing people they said they were trying to help.”

The two of you were quiet for a long time, not moving, both just standing there numb and worn from sharing such raw and painful memories that both of you had told few others. It was you that moved first, walking over to Joel, a tired smile on your lips, probably the first smile you’d actually shown Joel. A shaky breath filled your lungs when you stopped and stood in front of the man once more and whispered, “It was Tommy. He found me ripping my hands apart trying to dig through the rubble. He pulled me away as I kicked and screamed and he made sure I didn’t do anything rash, guided me away from what was once my home and together we found Jackson.”

The two of you looked at each other for a few more seconds, the shift in your dynamic nearly palpable. An understanding formed, a realization. The two of you were one in the same, each recognizing this now and realizing that is why you both shared so much hatred, each other’s trauma to raw and similar to the other’s that you couldn’t stand to come to close, knowing it would hurt, would bring things up the two of you would rather stay hidden.

Sharing a look, gazes meeting, a second realization formed. The two of you both found yourselves with a bond, now drawn together rather than repelled. Both of you content in knowing that there was another nearby that could understand them.

Joel’s gaze broke from yours, eyes looking behind you as he nodded behind you, “Storm’s breaking, should start to head back while we can.”

-... --- -. -..

The rest of your patrol passed in a blur. Both you and Joel finding nothing of interest, no more infected was heard or seen, houses and buildings cold and empty. You both took a turn signing into the last two checkpoints. It continued to snow, but only a slow fluttering, never falling faster, and the wind was near nonexistent. It was quiet between the two of you, peaceful now as you both worked as extensions of the other, whereas before it was quiet but the tension and frustration deafening.

By the time Jackson was in sight once more, it was night had fallen, the sun having set a few hours earlier. You both were ushered through the gate, and your horses were taken from you to be taken back to the stables and to be looked over and taken care of. You yawned deeply as you checked all your guns back in, signing off that they’d been returned and giving the girl working a quiet smile and a thank you. Joel followed you like a shadow, leaving behind his own weapons, before you both turned to move to the office to give your patrol report. Chances were Tommy had retired back home, or possibly out getting food or a drink, but Maria almost always worked late, and you’d rather give your report tonight than have to wait until tomorrow morning.

As the office came into view slowly, lights shining through the windows as you approached. Joel managed to grab the door first, opening it for you as you nodded a tired thanks as you entered, only pausing to knock your boots against the doorframe and kick off the snow sticking to them. Maria glanced up, setting her pen aside when she saw it was the two of you.

“Tommy was starting to place bets on if you’d both managed to kill each other and that was what was taking so long for you to return. I think he’ll be both glad and disappointed he was wrong.”

Shaking your head, a tired smile echoed your amusement. Joel stepped up beside you, grunting, “Did you smack him upside the head to bring ‘em some sense? He’s old enough now to know gambling ain’t any good.”

Maria chuckled and smiled, leveling the two of you with a curious look, “The two of you seem to be in good spirits. A bit surprised to see you both whole, though the looks of that bruise on Joel’s face says things didn’t go completely smoothly.”

You hummed and glanced at the mark left from your hand, turning back to Maria with a shrug. “He deserved it.”

Joel stayed quiet, neither arguing nor agreeing, and that seemed to intrigue Maria more. Instead of saying anything just yet though, she just looked back down at her desk and started shuffling through the papers. “So how did the patrol go? Did you find the infected?”

Your breath stuttered a bit, throat tightening. Thinking about the two was still a bit too much for you, but as you opened your mouth to speak, Joel beat you to it, “North found ‘em, perfect timin’ too, just before the storm really hit. North also took care of them by their self while I checked the rest of the building.”

Clearing your throat, you added, “There were only two. The rest of the area was clear.”

Maria eyed the tension in your stance, the pain in your face that you were just barely masking. She saw Joel shifting on his feet, his uncomfortableness nearly pouring off of him. Humming, she stayed quiet looking between the two of you for a few seconds, before sighing and standing, walking around her desk to stand in front of it.

“Well there is obviously things you aren’t mentioning, and I won’t push for all the details only because I trust the two of you when you say the area is clear and that’s really all I need to hear,” she paused and after a second gave the two of you a smile finishing with, “I can also see that the two of you have managed to squash whatever fight that’s been keeping you at each other’s throats. Good, I have a feeling that the two of you are going to be an invaluable team in the future. Now go on, go get food, get some rest.”

.-. . ... -

Jolting up in bed, you first noticed the light seeping in between your curtains of your room. Confused, as it wasn't a sight you'd seen often, the sunbeams nearly foreign. You weren't given a chance to really realize that you'd somehow managed to sleep in and to sleep through the night, before a series of sharp knocks echoed through your home, confusing you more.

Jumping from bed, you grabbed an oversized green flannel and quickly threw it on. Pulling your door open, you tried to look presentable and not like the person on your doorstep had managed to wake you.

Joel stood there on your doorstep as you opened the door cautiously, confusing you as he was obviously awkward and uncomfortable. In his hands he held a thermos and two mugs, only one visible to you and you only caught the edge of what seemed to be an owl print on the side. Looking back up at him, your eyebrows pinched together in confusion and curiosity, as Joel cleared his throat, holding up his hands. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Just knock the snow off your boots on the rug please," you mumbled, stepping aside.

Joel came in slowly, carefully getting the snow off his boots and wiping them dry, before you led him to your kitchen. The two of you were quiet, Joel setting his things on your small kitchen island, glancing at you before saying, "I didn't have to pay for this with any teeth or an amputated leg, but I did trade a lot more than I should have."

As he spoke, Joel unscrewed the thermos, letting out an aroma you'd not smelled in more than 20 years. Your eyes jumped to his, as he handed you a mug, the one you couldn't see earlier, this one decorated with an array of wildflowers. Carefully, you took the mug from Joel, smiling brightly as you wasted little time sipping the darkened liquid from the mug with a content sigh. Sipping from his own mug, Joel watched you, taking in the happiness that drifted off of you.

Meeting his gaze once more, you groaned after another sip and said, "South, I would kiss you right now but this coffee is a little more important to me right now."

Joel, coughed mid sip when you said that, his own coffee going down the wrong pipe in his surprise. Rounding the island, you left your mug in favor of smacking his back a few times, worried asking if he was okay. When the coughing finally subsided, you gently rubbed his back a couple of times, giving him a smile as he cleared his throat and took a breath.

Joel met your gaze as you smiled at him softly, hand moving to squeeze his bicep, letting yourself enjoy the muscle there for a second, sharing the touch itself was nice in of itself in all honesty. Then quickly your smile turned into a smirk as you moved away, grabbing your mug once more. "By the way, now that I know you have coffee, South, you should know I will be showing up at your house every morning bright and early."

Joel eyed you for a second, face unreadable before he got a soft grin looking down at his mug, glancing up at you again and replied, "I think I can live with that, North."

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#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #enemies to friends trope #section dividers are morse code!#hope you enjoyed!

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bluejadedragon · 4 months

Text

Release of the WIPs that I may or may not continue. (:

1. Angel From Manhattan

Sterling jolted awake in the middle of the night, something startling him awake. He looked around frantically, then to his window as a loud thunk echoed through his room. Across the room, Alexis stirred, muttering into her blankets.

Hurriedly, Sterling opened the window and looked out. Through the dark of night, he could just make out a figure standing on a patch of grass below his window. He climbed out, hurrying down the old brick wall, grateful for their apartment being only on the second floor. As soon as his feet hit the ground, a warm hand wrapped around his and pulled him around.

“Angel?”

The woman in front of him was staring into his eyes, her once blue eyes glowing a soft orange. Frowning, Sterling pulled his hand from hers.

“Hey!”

“Sorry.” Angel shook her head, then stepped back, walking toward the street. Confused by her lack of conversation, Sterling followed her, eyes darting.

Something was off.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel halted by a motorbike. It was beautiful, dark and sleek. Definitely not something she could afford.

“I’m getting out of the city.”

2. Big Hive, Small World

The sun was falling toward the horizon, shadows being cast below the hive. Workers flew around the city’s exterior, coming and going with frantic movements. Sterling just sat on top of the city’s domed roof, his wings flat behind him. A soft pattering of footsteps drew his attention to Alexis, who was climbing up to meet him.

She lifted her body over the final crest, pushing herself to sit next to Sterling. His gaze fell back to the horizon as she quietly sat beside him. Her wings buzzed softly, a release of pent up energy she probably didn’t even realise she was doing.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She opened cautiously. Sterling sighed, pulling his legs up to his chest.

“What’s there to talk about?” Alexis gave him that look.

“You and I both know.” He sighed again.

“Fine. Tomorrow, we're placed somewhere in the hive to complete our apprenticeships. Hopefully, I’ll end up somewhere in the smithing industry. You’ll become a guard.” “That’s not confirmed. And you know damn well that’s not what we need to talk about.” Sterling scrunched up his nose, then sighed in defeat as Alexis continued to watch him.

“I’m terrified, Lexi. Is that what you want to hear? Tomorrow is the last day of safety. Tomorrow is the last day I’m a part of a cohort, and from then on I won’t have you, or Matron Murdock, or any of our cohort to protect me. If anyone else finds out I’m a drone, at best I’ll be exiled, at worst executed. My very existence as a defective drone is classified as treason, because Queen forbid I ever pass my ‘faulty’ genes on.” He sighed into his hands.

“I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life trapped pretending to be someone I’m not. And I know you feel the same, because if anyone finds out you’re secretly a princess, we’re both dead. I mean, two criminals in one cohort? Our entire family would be executed for hiding us. So yeah, I’m terrified.”

Alexis listened quietly, letting him get his frustrations out.

“I love this colony, I love my family, but it doesn’t matter.” “It does though, Sterling!” Alexis finally spoke.

“Change starts small. If we’re here, there have to have been others- have to be others!” “Yeah…”

“I mean it. We’ll be okay.” Sterling smiled.

“You should be inspirational more often.” Alexis laughed.

“Shut up. Feeling better?” “Yeah, a little.” Sterling replied honestly, his gaze returning to the warm sunset that filled the sky with a burning glow.

“Good.” Alexis dropped her head onto his shoulder. “I love you, you idiot.”

“I love you too.”

3. Hide-and-Trauma

(CW for referenced alcoholism and child abuse)

It was just a stupid game.

A stupid game of hide-and-seek. Something they’d all played.

The thrill of scurrying through the halls of the House of Freedom, seeking out an adequate hiding space was something they’d done on so many free days. Laughing as they play, letting themselves be kids for a little while, their studies forgotten. It was simple and silly and all it took was one miscalculation.

Ana knew she was running low on time, but they were playing without abilities and so she was trying to find somewhere she wouldn’t immediately be found. But she was too slow and her heart pounded as she heard feet fast approaching.

Somewhere, beyond the rush of blood in her ears, she knew it was one of her friends- who was seeking this time? But her heartbeat was loud and strong and painful and suddenly she wasn’t just playing a game. Not just running from a friend who would just grin and help her out of her hiding space when they found her, who would wink and offer her one of their favourite snacks if she told them where the others were. Not just a friend who she’d laugh with and shrug off, not just a friend.

Instead the adrenaline shoved her back into her past, before she had any powers and only had her mind and small frame to avoid danger, and her mother had just gotten home and she was coming up the stairs and no, no no no tonight was a bad night she needed to run she needed to hide maybe if it was hard to find her she’d just give up-

Instincts took over and she was climbing up the stone pillars, forcing herself into the small gap between one of the turrets and the roof, shoving her hands over her mouth and nose to muffle all sounds she made and she tucked herself fully into the shadows, ducking her face into her chest to hide the pale sphere of her face and stars above please don’t look up don’t look up don’t look up!

#popcross studios #multiverse tales #fanfic #writers on tumblr #current wips #writing wips #sterling engeal #alexis jones #ana fenze #fluff #angst #bug AU

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juniormint1125 · 2 years

Text

A Beautiful Landscape - Lee Jihoon

THIS POST CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT!

Please read with that in mind.

A Beautiful Landscape

Lee Jihoon x Reader

The end of the semester was always hectic, but three things had made this last term chaotic. First, I had begun working on a research project that was proving to be the death of me. I had never imagined there would be so much controversy surrounding Neolithic pottery. Then, I had moved into my own apartment after living with the same circle of friends since undergrad. The peace and quiet I had dreamed of felt unexpectedly lonely. Lastly, I had met someone who had changed my life, quite literally running into him when I least expected it. A few weeks into the project, I had been at my wit’s end, searching for a physical copy of the book I was certain was the answer to the question my research team had been stumbling over for days. Even with everything I had access to as a professor, I had only been able to find snippets of the information I needed. Well over seven hours into a final effort to find my elusive source, the sun was creeping over the horizon, beginning to glare on my laptop screen. Just one more site, I told myself. If I can’t find it, then I’ll give up.

I clicked on a link for the online catalog of an obscure bookstore. Crossing my fingers, I reminded myself not to get excited. Nothing so far had managed to pan out. And I am not that lucky. Scrolling through page after page of books I had never heard of made my fingers were numb. I wiggled them to try and bring back some circulation. While stretching, I knocked my mouse off the desk. I reached down to pick it up, accidentally clicking the button. “Damn it!” I yelled, looking at the screen. How the hell had I managed to lose the results I had been sifting through? I decided to give searching a rest. Moving to close the window, something familiar caught my eye. Under the heading of “Special Collections” was the book I was looking for! I had to be dreaming. I frantically looked for to find how to find the book. At the bottom of the page was the store’s address. It sounded familiar. That street was only about a ten-minute walk from my apartment! I looked at the clock. If I hurried, I would have enough time to shower and grab something to eat before the store opened. I wanted to be there when the doors were unlocked. I wasn’t taking any chances. After a quick shower, I felt refreshed. I might be able to make it a few more hours before collapsing. I was now running on adrenaline from the excitement of finding the book. I was about to head out the door when my phone rang. It was the research team leader. I thought about rejecting the call, but I knew he would just call again until I picked up. I was short as he drug me through the same questions that I had answered a million times in the last few days. He asked if I had found the manuscript. “Actually,” I chirped, “I may have. I’m on my way now to check out a lead. So, I really need to go.” I looked at the time. I had already missed the opening, so I needed to hurry. I flew out the door and sped down the hall. I was certain my luck would run out and somehow, I would lose the priceless manuscript. I was distracted looking for an employee and didn’t see the stack of books by the entrance until I was falling. My embarrassing descent was slowed when I crashed into another of the bookstore’s customers.

I threw out my hands to catch myself, but it was too late. I landed on top of him, hovering inches from the bill of his navy-blue baseball cap. I scrambled to my feet, my entire body burning crimson. Standing upright, I apologized.

“It’s okay,” he said, dusting off his jeans. “Accidents happen.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” I babbled as I bent to pick up the sheet music scattered on the floor.

He chuckled as he knelt beside me. “It was definitely a little awkward.”

“God, I am so sorry,” I repeated, putting the music back in the bin. “Sometimes I’m a little…oblivious…to my surroundings.”

“It’s really okay,” he smiled.

An employee appeared from behind a nearby bookshelf. I apologized once more and excused myself. I needed to find the book. Once I had it in my hands, I was elated. I would finally be able to get a full night’s sleep!

In my state of delighted relief, I had forgotten about my earlier embarrassment. Then I found myself standing at the counter beside the same man I had pummeled. He was speaking with another employee, holding a sizeable stack of music. I studied his face as I shoved my change into my purse. He had been shockingly kind despite my clumsiness, and I hadn’t even bothered to look him in the eyes. I had been too embarrassed. I flinched as he turned in my direction. His deep brown eyes disappeared as he smiled, and tiny dimples appeared above his mouth.

“Uh…hello again,” I stuttered. “I really am so sorry about earlier.”

He laughed and told me again not to worry. As he turned to go, I blurted out, “Can I buy you a cup of coffee to make up for it?”

I scolded myself. What the hell was I doing? He had just been courteous. Now, he probably wanted to get as far away from me as possible.

To my surprise he agreed. I felt elated. Something about him was comfortable and calming.

As we saw more of each other, we easily fell into a routine. His good morning texts awaited me when I woke up and every evening, as I wished him good night, I reminded him not to stay up too late working. Friday nights were movie nights and Saturdays were for breakfast in bed.

Our routine was disturbed when he started preparing for the first comeback since we started dating. Face to face meetings were replaced by Facetime and movie nights turned into “I’m sorry, I can’t make it” texts. I had fallen in love with Jihoon’s passion for music, so I disguised my disappointment with homemade cookie deliveries to the practice room. Each time Jihoon would pull me aside and wrap me in his arms. He’d whisper his thanks, and each time, he’d be pulled from my arms by a member’s call back to practice.

It was lonely, but the quiet moments we spent in each other’s arms when he finally crawled into bed at dawn made everything worth it. To the outside world, he was blunt, unemotional, and unapproachable. But when he lay in my arms, with the rising sun streaming through the windows, he laid his heart out.

My sunrise Jihoon was soft and gentle. His words were caring and full of gratitude for my presence in his life. He never held back his feelings, telling me I was his safe space. He shared his worries, his frustrations, and his glee, always asking for and thoughtfully considering my opinions.

When he had cleared his mind and healed his heart, he would wrap his strong, steady arms around me and let his passion free. He was a gentle lover who took his time making sure I was always satisfied first. But, sometimes, when he returned from a particularly stressful day, undercurrents of a rougher, more dominant Jihoon would swirl to the surface. I was dying to test the waters and be utterly ruined.

Despite his openness during our sunrise cuddles, Jihoon was still shy when it came to our sex life. He was unrestricted in his interests, but hesitant to make the first move. When he did work up the courage to say something, he would blush and stutter. His flustered disposition was adorable to me, but he hated his embarrassment and inability to speak freely. So, I had learned, through close observation and slowly pushing limits, how to make him comfortable while giving him the utmost pleasure.

So, for a while, I had been testing him, doing little things that would be unobvious, to gauge his reaction. A webpage “accidentally” left open on our home computer. A magazine article I just happened to come across while he had been leaning over my shoulder. A new skirt, just shy of appropriate, hanging in the closet next to his favorite hoodie. A matching lingerie set in his favorite color that I somehow left lying on the bed after I put the laundry away. I dropped a thousand hints and waited for him to take the bait. He might be quiet and shy, but inside his mind, I knew the wheels always turned a thousand miles a minute.

The winter term was ending, and the culmination of my research project was close. I was absorbed with work, not always reachable. The “Did you eat?” and “How did you sleep?” texts started to come more frequently and the time he waited for my reply became increasingly smaller. It wasn’t like him to be clingy, but it seemed the less time I was available, the more passive aggressively he sulked.

Things started to slow down for both of us, and we finally managed to secure a few consecutive free hours that we could spend together. So, I laid all my cards on the table. I put on the matching lingerie in his favorite color that I hadn’t yet worn. I zipped up the less than appropriate skirt that had been hanging beside his hoodie. I refreshed the spicy amber perfume that drove him crazy and swiped on a glossy shade of crimson lipstick. If he doesn’t let go now, I thought, he never will.

I could feel his gaze burning through me as soon as he spotted me in the coffee shop. He was running late, so we decided to meet there. I had already ordered his favorite and it was delivered as he sat down beside me. His hand came to rest on my thigh, and he kissed my cheek to say hello. I noticed how firm his grip was as he asked me about my day.

“Will you go to the studio with me?” he asked as I finished my second cup of coffee.

“Ji!” I whined. “This is supposed to be a date night. No work.”

“Please?” he pouted. “There’s something I want you to hear. It’s not really work, I promise.” He ran his thumb across my knuckles, making me shudder.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

He helped me with my coat and as we exited into the cool night air, I shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked. I nodded. He took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck. “Maybe you should have worn something that covered a little more skin,” he grumbled as he took my hand.

I smirked. So, he had noticed. HIs studio was warm and inviting. He led me over to the desk, handing me the headphones. He sat down at the keyboard, and I stood beside him, my heart exploding to see him living his passion.

A slow beat began playing quietly in the headphones. It was beautiful. Every song Jihoon wrote was amazing, but this one was ethereal. The notes flowed from the headphones, washing over me like the voices of angels. I couldn’t believe how talented he was.

From behind, I felt the warmth of fingertips trailing the inside of my thighs. Powerful hands gripped my waist. A firm, easily recognizable pressure bore down on my back. I took off the earphones.

“What do you think?” His gruff voice echoed in my ear.

“It’s hard to say,” I teased. Nails dug into my skin. “Did you just start working on this?”

Roughly, he spun me to face him. He planted his hands on either side of me, and leaning in, forced me backwards with each inch of space he annexed. Devilry glinted in his umber-colored eyes.

“No, I didn’t,” he growled.

“Oh,” I replied, feigning ignorance. “It just sounds a little…raw.”

Jihoon inclined his body closer until I could feel the solidity of each muscle igniting the entire length of my torso. His voice was dark and laced with passion as he whispered in my ear.

“I’ll show you what raw sounds like.”

Internally, I was having a full-fledged victory celebration. My clever boo had taken every one of the puzzle pieces I had left him and fit them together to create a beautiful landscape neither one of us had visited, except in our dreams. I raised an eyebrow, challenging him to prove his declaration.

His lips crashed into mine as he forcefully lifted me onto his desk. Prying my legs apart, he pushed my barely there skirt over my thighs.

“Don’t ever let me catch you wearing this again,” he warned. His hands slid roughly inside my skirt, kneading the skin of my thighs. “This is mine and no one else gets to see any part of it.”

I gasped at the feral tone his voice had found. I was certain that he could feel the wetness soaking through my panties as he held his grip on me. I still had one more test for him.

“Okay,” I replied nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders. I looked away from him and waited to see how he’d respond.

He gripped my chin, pulling me back to face him. He slid my panties to the side and my dripping core allowed him to easily thrust two fingers inside. My back arched and I moaned loudly as he commanded.

“You answer with ‘sir’ only.”

A huge smile spread across my lips as I responded. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled shyly back at me and tucked my hair behind my ear, stepping out of character for a split second. I understood what his smile was telling me.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

His soft smile faded, replaced by a menacing grin. I was reminded that his fingers were still inside as they began to barrel in and out of me. His other hand firmly cradled my neck. Then he was back, whispering in my ear. His voice was raspy and sent chills down my spine.

“Every part of you belongs to me. And right now, I want to see what’s mine.” He tugged on the collar of my shirt. “Take these off. Slowly.”

Withdrawing his fingers, he took his place back in the chair. His eyes were dark with lust as he waited for his directions to be followed. Jumping down from the desk, I turned away from him. Reaching behind me, I unzipped my skirt, sliding it past my hips, so that it would fall to the floor. Bending over, I heard a hum of approval. Before I could stand back up, his hands grabbed my ass roughly.

“Next time you buy lingerie,” he growled, “I choose.”

“Yes, sir,” I cooed sweetly, standing upright, turning to face him. His satisfaction was clear, so I continued my show. Slowly, I began unbuttoning my blouse.

“My angel is so beautiful,” he praised me.

“Thank you, sir.” I smiled, coming to the last button. I reached to slide the shirt from my shoulders, but he stopped me.

“Let me,” he ordered. As his hands slid the fabric from my arms, his lips trailed kisses in its wake. His teeth nipped the inside of my arm. “Mine,” he declared.

Sitting back down in his chair, he motioned for me to continue. I reached behind to unfasten my bra, dragging out the process of sliding the straps form my shoulders. Looking him in the eye, I hooked my thumbs under the band of my panties. Inch by inch, I slid them down. Taking them in my hand, I tossed them in Jihoon’s direction. He snatched them from the air, putting them to his nose and inhaling the scent of my arousal. Eyes never leaving mine, he groaned, then rose from the chair to join me.

With one hand wrapped firmly around my waist, he used the other to spread my legs. I heard his hum of satisfaction as he slid one finger up the length of my folds. I could see my wetness, slick on his finger, as he put it to his mouth, sucking slowly.

“Delicious,” he moaned. He stood back, eying my nakedness, but making no further moves.

“Please Ji,” I whispered a minute later.

“Please, sir,” he corrected me.

“Please, sir,” I repeated.

“Please, sir, what?” He drew out his words, each one making my core throb.

“Please touch me, sir,” I begged.

“Where do you want me to touch you, angel?” He teased, running his fingertips down my naked side.

“I want you to touch my clit,” I whined. His fingers traced circles around my nipples, and I could barely concentrate to form my words. I was becoming an incoherent mess under his touch.

“Here?” he asked. His thumb landed on my clit, drawing small circles around the already hardening bud. My eyes closed and I nodded my head furiously.

“I can’t hear you, angel.” His tone was a warning as his thumb stilled.

“Yes, sir, there,” I mewled. I was falling apart under his authority. I had never come that fast in my life, but I was so close already to reaching my high. He could tell I was by the way my body tensed.

He leaned in and whispered. “I want to hear you when you come, angel. Don’t hold back.” I was dangling on the precipice of ecstasy and his next words pushed me over the edge. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“Jihoon,” I cried as my orgasm washed over me. He gradually slowed his movements as I rode out my high. I felt as if I would collapse in his arms, but his grip on my waist held me firmly upright.

“So beautiful,” he cooed as he kissed my forehead. His tenderness was over in a second as he spun me around. I heard rustling as he unfastened his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. He rubbed the tip of his cock against my wetness without hesitating.

“Now,” he roared, “I’m going to take what’s mine.” With his last word, he rammed his length into me, slamming my pelvis against the desk with each thrust. His nails were again digging into the flesh of my waist, the pain registering as pure pleasure.

As my moans grew louder, his pace increased. He grunted with each drive. He only did that when he was agonizingly turned on, needing to come for relief. So, I was surprised when he stopped abruptly, whipping me around again. His actions were savage, but his look was tender. He was still my Jihoonie, no matter what had been unlocked inside him.

“Look at me while I come inside you,” he ordered. He thrust back inside, continuing the pace he had set moments ago. I held his stare, never looking away as he reached his climax. It was the most intimate moment we had shared. He rode out his final throes of passion and sighed.

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes still locked on mine. I smirked and pulled him close, burying my face in his neck.

“I love you too, Jihoonie.” I could feel his smile against my hair as I whispered.

“Sir.”

#woozi #seventeen woozi #svt woozi #lee jihoon #seventeen lee jihoon #svt lee jihoon #smut #kpop smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi smut #seventeen woozi smut #svt woozi smut #lee jihoon smut #seventeen lee jihoon smut #svt lee jihoon smut #woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader

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