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#how many times can I say tragedy in the tags

fermented-writers-block · 1 year

Text

Not gonna lie, with the Spot’s upcoming time mucking shenanigans as suggested by the flashes of the future in Miles’ vision, I would not be surprised if the dimensional collapsing theorized by Miguel to come from averting too many “Canon Events” will turn out to be a side effect of something the Spot will either do himself or set up to screw with Miles.

Particularly, with how much his origin monologue to Miles and Jeff centered around the idea that he made Spider-Man and vice versa, note how incredibly well that mentality would dovetail with Miguel and the Spider Society’s belief that the “Canon Events” are what made them Spider-Man.

@kindaorangey has a good post pointing out how the Spot’s mindset of “filling the hole with more holes” is a pretty apt metaphor for the way Miles, Gwen, and likely the other spider people diving into the identity of Spider-Man as a crutch for dealing with the isolation caused by said identity, but suffice to say, OP and @sir-adamus had these tags which I'd like to use as a jumping pad:

For this, we can analyze Miguel and Spot as two sides of the same coin, where Miguel’s side is about allowing canon events to play out through inaction, and Spot's side could potentially lead up to (as a side effect of his grudge against Miles) actively ensuring that only those canon events happen, with any deviations that don't fit into their views being cast aside.

The former position projects personal traumas as absolutely necessary and destined to happen onto others, the latter position rejects any possibility that things could go differently in a quite literal manner. But in the end, both ultimately are about "filling in the hole with more holes" and dictating what Miles "should" be like.

Miguel doesn’t think Miles is a real Spider-Man and that him becoming Spider-Man was a mistake that never should have happened, all from his obsessive mentality surrounding Canon Events. He and by extension the other Spider-Men stuck in their hole of guilt and fatalism, surrounding themselves with other Spider-Men stuck in their holes of trauma and grief to where they have formed an echo chamber that tells them Miles cannot save his father's life and that they cannot do anything to save people anymore.

And in the Spot's case, the metaphor already came from him, but it's all about obsessively centering his new, lonely existence around being not just A, but THE nemesis to Miles' Spider-Man. He lost everything and has nothing except his connection to Spider-Man. To fill that hole, he's not only only making himself a villain that Miles will actually respect. He's going to try his damnedest to make sure that Miles reaches his full potential as Spider-Man just like he talked about in Mumbattan, and fill the hole with more holes in Miles' life until Miles is devoid of everything except the Spot.

Given the flashes of future events in Miles’ vision, if and when the Spot inevitably hears about Miguel's theory of Canon Events, it would only be fitting if the Spot retroactively becomes responsible for all the previous dimensional destruction the Spider-Society dealt with. And thus, Miguel's theory obsession would be its own recursive creator.

A vicious cycle of telling themselves that things have to happen a certain way, of blaming uncontrollable circumstances on something they think they can and should control, and of refusing to let go of the spiral they've fallen into.

After all, Miles already had an Uncle Ben-type event and the Spot is trying to set up a Captain Stacy-type event. Since the logical conclusion to the themes of Miles choosing what kind of Spider-Man he wants to be and not allowing preventable tragedies to happen would be that Jeff lives, well…

It would only be narratively fitting for the Spot to try to set up a Gwen Stacy event later down the line.

Because if Miles being bit and the Spot getting caught up in the collider wasn't destiny, if the intersection of their lives was simply due to circumstances they had no control over, if the dimensional collapses weren't because preventing Canon Events is inherently destabilizing to reality in of itself, then Miguel and the Spot would have to look inwards and actually try to figure out how to fill the holes in their lives.

So Miguel tells himself that what he does has to be done, that only he is strong enough to do it, and that everyone should follow his lead and stop caring.

As for the Spot?

If he fails to kill Jeff and Gwen, and when it's proven to everyone else that Canon Events are not required lynchpins of reality like Gwen found, he might just decide to try to make them actual lynchpins across time and space.

Or at least, making it so that the only realities that can exist are ones where those events happen.

Aka trying to forcibly changing the multiverse so suffering huge tragedy becomes an inherently integral part of Spider-Man the concept, rather than a mere possibility. So many Spider-Men and their dimensions getting hurt in the crossfire, and all in the process of targeting Miles Morales specifically.

Truly, it would be quite resonant if and when the Spider-Society let and help Miles get to save his Captain and Gwen Stacy. Beating the Spot would no longer be about the concept of stopping a threat to the multiverse and their canon events, but about metaphorically ending the cycle of suffering and finding a way to move forwards beyond the guilt. They probably can’t actually change the past, but with this, they can fight to prevent it from happening to others.

#across the spiderverse #across the Spiderverse spoilers #atsv spoilers #spiderverse theory #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #gwen stacy #miles morales #the spot #spiderverse meta

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tai0miemi · 10 days

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For you, my favorite moralists♡

Caution! The topic of dark content, transophobia (as it seems to some), double standards and hypocrisy

English is not my native language, I express myself as best I can, OK?

This post is dedicated to all the freaking moralists who, because of fake characters, bully real writers and people who read what they like.

Are you worried that a child/teenager will see inc*st/r*pe topics, but for some reason you think it's okay not to put tags in works where there are trans people?

The authors of dark content set an age limit in bold text, write a bunch of tags and warnings so that your delicate brain does not deteriorate, at the same time as the authors writing about trans!reader × character or trance!character does not put anything at all most often.

I'm tired of you. I don't want to read the work and in the middle realize that a female reader has a d*ck. I don't want to read a work where a biologically male character turns out to have a vag*na. PUT IT DOWN. FUCKING. TAGS. So that people can just block you and not read it.

I'm not opposed to your writing, I just don't like it and that's okay. We're all different people and we like different things. However, I am fed up with moralists that in every tag that they do not like they make a tragedy of universal scale and then humiliate the authors who write it while they do not care about such a topic with trances. Seriously? Do you think that if a child sees these works, then it's ok? If you're against it, then you're fucking hypocrites. Leave the authors of dark content alone.

And here's another thing. I really "like" when they write "mention of female anatomy" in job warnings. Hmm, I wonder who it is? I don't even know if this creature is called a WOMAN. And leave your comments about the sex change, an artificial hole between the legs is not a biological vag*na, OK?

Do not write comments, do not like or reblog. This post was made with the sole purpose of attracting attention and adding kirosine to the fire♡

UPD: Thank you all for promoting the discussion, thanks to you, as many people as possible will see the post!

UPD2: You can call me transophobic all you want, but your brain missed the point of this post. No matter what you say, you have no right to poison other people just because you personally don't like something. Trans people is a specially chosen topic so that you can look at yourself from the outside, how stupid you sound from the outside. Congratulations you got caught :P

UPD3: For fans of protecting trans people: Do you think that no one has an injury related to this? Maybe a person made a sex change and regretted it, maybe someone was raped by a trans person and for them this is content that they want to avoid. However, you protect some, and wish death to others.

You are shifting responsibility for the crimes to the authors. Much more innocent things can encourage a person to commit crimes.

I sincerely believe that no matter what dirt a person writes, if it does not go beyond fan fiction, then everything is fine. The harassment of authors is much worse than any violence in literature!!

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peachenle · 1 year

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down the hatch

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: college!au | fratboy!au | fluff, established relationship | some suggestive content at the end

word count: 5k

warnings: lots of drinking, profanity, sexual themes, fake frats, more semi-unhumorous banter, sunghoon biceps

༄࿔˚✧ synopsis: “a collection of moments with sunghoon, shared over meals, snacks, and drinks. a riff off of timestamps. not in chronological order. a continuation/epilogue of captain’s log.”

tagging: @dearhee @ozymandia-s @judeduartewannabe @pokemonpartyworld @thejjrl @end-hyphen

jungle juice

There wasn’t a lot you could do when it came to football game weekends. You knew the drill. Your roommate Yunjin would be pestering you to “Can you please show at least a little school pride?” as she posed you for pictures, dressed in your university’s sanctioned colors. Sunghoon would be off doing god knows what to prepare for the HYB tailgate. However, today’s game was much later in the day, and you were saved from the tragedy of drinking at 8am like last time.

Sunghoon had warned you that he’d be busy that morning, buying groceries for the pre-game, the tailgates, and the afterparty. You decided you’d return to the library, cramming a couple assignments (like usual) before the chaos of the upcoming afternoon.

Not even an hour into your studies, and uncharacteristically, Sunghoon began sending you a string of messages.

sunghoon: is this a good juice brand *photo attached*

you: its orange juice i dont think you can go wrong but yes

sunghoon: is 1kg of strawberries enough

you: why did they let you buy groceries by yourself this time

sunghoon: *photo attached* I’m with riki

you: …

you: remind me to not consume whatever you guys are trying to make

*Sunghoon disliked a message you sent.*

The festivities of the day included a pregame at the HYB house, carpools to the main stadium parking lot for the tailgate, and cheering alongside everyone else at the actual game. Naturally, the night would end at HYB.

You were still shy about letting yourself inside the house, even though you knew they never locked the doors on days like this. Sunghoon once insisted on giving you a key, to make it easier for you when you came over. And though the other guys that lived at the house gave him permission to do so, you - maturely - explained that you had to respect their spaces as a guest. Sunghoon met you with a pout and a reluctant nod of understanding.

I’m outside, you texted your boyfriend, stepping up the stairs to the front doors. You heard yelling and music, and you were surprised the fun had already begun.

You stepped back as the door swung open, meeting your boyfriend’s sheepish smile and Jay’s bright one. Sunghoon grabbed your hand, brushing a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, Y/N, so we fucked up the jungle juice,” Jay stared at you expectantly, his face fully flushed already.

You made a face, “How is that possible?”

Sunghoon laughed, “Just wait.”

Next to the two large tubs of their creation, the kitchen’s island was littered with empty juice cartons and several empty liquor bottles.. and many beer bottles?

One of the other HYB brothers followed your gaze, “We put beer in it to make it bubbly.”

Sunghoon passed you a cup. You stared at the little strawberry floating within an unnervingly bubbling red-orange concoction. Safe to say the beer was not a good choice, the ratio was definitely off - how can something so fruity taste so bitter? “Yeah, it does taste like shit.”

“Okay, but who drinks jungle juice for enjoyment?,” Riki suggested, shuffling through the songs playing from his phone to the speakers.

Jay, sarcastic, stated. “Jungle juice should be treated as a delicacy.”

Sunghoon, amused, replied, “Then why did you defile it by adding cheap beer?”

“I saw it on TikTok, leave me alone.”

Some other guys arrived later and called for help to set up, so you and Sunghoon were left to figure out what to do with the drinks.

Your guys’ solution was to just add more orange juice, which didn’t exactly mask the beer taste, but it made it more tolerable.

The pregame wasn’t eventful, mostly HYB guys and their significant others taking shots before packing everything (and everyone) into a few cars to take to the university stadium.

The parking lot was crowded, different Greek groups mingling with each other. You and Sunghoon sat in the back bed of a friend’s pickup truck, next to the tubs of jungle juice, watching the chaos unfold.

People were grilling meat, passing lettuce wrapped morsels amongst each other. Everyone was decked out in school colors, some holding signs cursing out the other team.

Sunghoon laid a drunken head on your shoulder, taking a hand into his. You felt him shake with laughter as some of the boys wrestled over a football. Other guys were funneling shots and you thought of your boyfriend, certainly the least chaotic (in terms of drinking) out of all of them.

“Hoon, I wish you’d just own up to your true frat potential.”

“The way you tease my friends for being alcoholic fuckboys really holds me back from that.”

You paused, “You’re the exception to the rule. It’s not anyone’s fault Jay has a new flame each week - he’s just embracing who he is - a HYB brother.”

"I think it's time I hang up the frat paddle and just be a wholesome student."

“Dude, you just picked up a Little, what are you talking about?" Riki interjected (the Little in question).

Sunghoon sighed dramatically, “And I regret it everyday.”

Your school’s team won, and everyone traveled back to celebrate appropriately at the HYB house. The daytime festivities (and drinks) left you tired, and you pulled Sunghoon away from the action to selfishly have him help you to sleep.

It was only 9 pm and you knew there were still drinks to be drunk, but it was getting difficult for you to keep your eyes open.

Sunghoon led you to his bed, climbing in shortly after. You two were silent as he took you into his arms, the warmth of his chest lulling you into darkness.

You woke, the wisps of your hair clinging to your forehead with sweat. You were surprised to find Sunghoon’s limbs still intertwined with yours, considering the bass of the party’s music downstairs still vibrated his bed frame. He definitely did not mean to fall asleep. You brushed the loose hairs out of your face, staring at your boyfriend’s features in the glow of his LED lights.

Sunghoon’s sleeping face was so peaceful, and you often took pictures to relish at the image if you missed him. You were so content. You burrowed your face back into the heat of his neck, not minding how his proximity literally made you sweat. Just being able to be with him… you couldn’t care less.

tiramisu

Your third real date - you could not consider invites to his parties actual dates - Sunghoon wanted to take you to his favorite dessert cafe downtown. The last time he took you out, he offered to drive, picking you up right on time, and with a single tulip sitting on the passenger’s seat.

This time, however, he asked if it was okay if you two could just walk and ride the bus together. Sunghoon had his moments of pure charisma, teasing you smoothly, and finding a way to break out a smile from you. There were other times where you were absolutely astonished at his clumsiness. While Sunghoon was in the final stages of crossing over into HYB, some of the things you had to witness him go through… thank god he was handsome.

The midday sun was beaming brightly, a gentle wind passing through your thin layers - not offering you much comfort to soothe the beads of sweat on your forehead. Sunghoon was dressed casually, a short sleeved button down - revealing just enough of his toned chest, and some loose trousers.

“You know, I asked to walk with you today so that I could have more time with you, but I’m kinda regretting it,” he said pointedly, gesturing at the hot spring rays of the sun.

“Wow, are you saying time with me isn’t worth a couple minutes of sweat?” you said, with a blank face.

Sunghoon’s face contorted to one of apology, his lips opening to ramble a sorry, but then stopped and broke into a smile. “Yeah, you’re less cute when you’re sweaty.”

You scoffed as you pushed his shoulder, discreetly swiping a hand across your forehead.

The bus was packed, and you two were left with the option of standing body to body with other passengers. Sunghoon grabbed a hanging handrail for support before the bus took off, but the others in your section were occupied. The bus jolted forward and you stumbled into Sunghoon’s torso, his free hand catching your shoulder.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you peeked up to see him bite back a smile. After stabilizing your stance, Sunghoon’s free hand traced down your bare arm. He gently grasped your hand and directed it to his bent arm, offering you his bicep to hold for support.

“You’re sly, Park Sunghoon,” you whispered. His arm was toned, and it felt firm under your grasp.

“Hey, I hit a PR at the gym yesterday, this is a reward for both of us. You should thank me really.”

After making it out of the bus, you didn’t bother to let go of his arm. He coolly slipped his hands in his pockets as he led you to the cafe - you stared at his red ears and knew the impact you had on him.

You picked a table in the back corner, the cafe was decorated brightly and had walls lined with bookshelves. You let Sunghoon order for you. He returned with a bright smile, setting the order pager on the table.

“This place has the best cakes,” Sunghoon was beaming with excitement. You laughed, his giddy expression was so endearing it was hard not to reciprocate.

Sunghoon stood to pick up the order when it was ready, and passed you your pink smoothie. He set a green tea cake and slice of tiramisu in the middle, taking a sip of his Americano.

“So they make tiramisu the authentic way.” Sunghoon began to explain how tiramisu is supposed to be made (who knew he was such a fanatic?), and you spared him of the knowledge that you too knew how it was actually made. “The owner says they get imported coffee beans especially for their espresso, so the flavor is super strong!” He used his spoon to point out the different creamy layers.

The cake did look delicious, but the sight of Sunghoon’s eyes glowing staring at his favorite dessert was more satiating. You sipped your smoothie as he finished his ramble.

Sunghoon slowly carved into the cake with his spoon, and held it out to you.

“Are you really feeding me right now?”

He smiled, “I know you want it.” He was right. You did.

The cake was creamy and soft, just as it looked, but you scowled at the clashing taste.

“I don’t think fruit smoothies with tiramisu is a good pairing…” you smiled sheepishly.

He passed you the cup of his Americano to wash the flavor away before scooping another bite for you. Sunghoon smiled as he noted your expression of approval. The taste of the espresso was bitter, but the cream and cocoa melted to coat your tongue with sweetness.

Sunghoon didn’t mind that he traded his Americano with your smoothie. He didn’t mind that the tartness of the fruit totally ruined his favorite dessert. Your happy expression was enough for him.

somaek

Being in a relationship with someone so popular, and so involved with his social circles, unknowingly pulled you into many social events and gatherings. You were intertwined with his organization, and joining some of their philanthropy events led you to become a desired member in some sororities.

You simply explained you didn’t have the time to commit to anything. You had your own orgs, your own part-time job, and your own studies.

Probably the first problem that you two faced early in your relationship had to do with just that - balancing each of your respective responsibilities. Being in Greek obligated him to attend many events, and him living in a frat house didn’t make things easier when it came to alone time.

You loved his friends, and truly saw some of them as your own now, but spending time with your boyfriend in a room right between Jake and Jay drove you mad sometimes.

There was knocking at Sunghoon’s door. You two were sitting on the floor, your laptop propped up, educating your boyfriend with iconic Vine compilations. “It’s Jake!”

Sunghoon stood to open the door and see what his friend wanted. Naturally, Jake pushed inside disregarding Sunghoon.

“Dude, I’m right here?”

“Hey, Y/N, can you explain the post-lab that’s due tomorrow? The summary part seems so redundant… I don’t get how it’s different from the analysis.”

You blinked at him, half-eyeing the soju and beer bottles you and Sunghoon were peacefully sharing just a minute before. Sunghoon sighed and you snorted.

“Jake, can I please just have a night with my girl? You see her like four days a week in class, and could’ve gotten help then.”

Jake made an O with his lips, realizing his brashness and laughed. “My bad! And I’ve actually seen her everyday this week because of supplementary labs!”

Sunghoon basically dragged his friend out, locking the door behind him.

“Sorry about him.” You shook your head, amused, pretty much accustomed to this behavior already.

You refilled Sunghoon’s beer glass, and poured in a shot of soju right after. “If it makes you feel any better, that post-lab was actually due today.”

Sunghoon downed the drink in one shot, his cheeks cherried from the alcohol. “This is why I love you.”

He paused. That was the first time he said I love you to you. You snickered, “That still counts even if you’re drunk.”

He pouted his lips, then smiled, “Honestly, I consider that a win.” He stuck his tongue out at you. “Ha! I said it first.”

suggestive content in the end of this last section - feel free to skip!

peppermint hot cocoa

Sunghoon was always patient with you, pausing to make sure you were enjoying yourself, never hesitating to ask if you were alright. He was gentle and caring, and never rushed.

However, your first time with Sunghoon consisted of a lot of moving parts. Clashing limbs and rushed whispers, you were out of breath before even really starting.

You’d had your share of one night stands, purely lust filled nights: chaptered with drunken exchanges, entangled bodies, and the dreaded walk of shame the morning after. Only rarely were you lucky enough to have snuck out before the rise of the sun.

Since you two started talking, you had access to HYB and hockey club parties, which were at least every other week. It was still fun to party with your girlfriends, before sneaking away with Sunghoon to play pool or some drinking games.

Each night was riddled with ST and for better or for worse, he never advanced anything further than a couple sessions of making out.

Hell, there was one night where you made out for what felt like two hours straight. One of his hands was finally on the inside of your panties, rubbing you expertly, but as soon as you reached for the front of his jeans, Sunghoon stood up. You two were drunk, but even then you could tell that his “phone call from Heeseung-hyung” was nothing more than him pulling up the calculator app and putting it to his ear.

“I just don’t know why he doesn’t want to sleep with me?” You brought up to Yunjin the next day. “He had a girl in his bed and he pretended to call Heeseung.”

Yunjin bit her lip, and looked at you with the most serious expression. “Y/N, that’s so fucking tragic. Me, personally, I’d stop talking to him.”

“It’s not that I want to just have sex with him!” You whined. “I like him. But you know, we just keep stopping right before.”

She continued, “Imagine getting hot and bothered with a girl on top of you and the thing he thinks of to get out of it is Heeseung. Your tongue was down his throat and his best out was Heeseung.”

“Okay, now this just feels like a jab at Heeseung.”

“He ghosted me, Y/N! I was supposed to do that.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend. “What do I do?”

“You said the only times you’ve gotten close were when you two were drunk right? Maybe he gets whiskey dick.” She grins.

You pause to think about the things you’ve felt, the times where you’ve run a palm down the front of his pants, just to hear a pretty gasp from him. Or the times where you straddled him, and he grabbed your hips to push you further onto him.

“Yeah… I don’t think so.”

“Honestly, he’s probably just nervous. Anyone can tell just how headass you two are for each other. Or maybe he doesn’t want to do it drunk.”

Yunjin then muttered, “Couldn’t be me. Drunk sex is…”

During a lecture - as you and Jake were hunched over his laptop, going over the practice case scenarios together - you saw a text message pop up on Jake’s screen.

hoonhoon bro: should i just ask her out again

Jake cleared his throat and slowly turned his screen towards only him, “Lemme check something real quick.”

You snickered, “Very subtle, Jake.”

He gave you a look, “I could just lie and say you told me you aren’t into him anymore.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Jake smiled brightly, “Yeah you’re right, I like you guys too much.”

You then received a text message.

park sunghoon: Are you busy tonight?

you: yes i’m going on a date

park sunghoon: what

Jake looked up from typing on his laptop. In a hushed whisper, “You’re seeing other guys!?”

You kept your eyes on your phone and continued.

you: yeah i started talking to him from a hockey club party

Jake poked your arm angrily, and turned his screen to show you the texts between himself and Sunghoon.

hoonhoon bro: SHES SEEING SOMEONE ELSE WHAT THE FUCK

me: WTF DUDE LET ME ASK HER

hoonhoon bro: wait dont

hoonhoon bro: THEY MET AT A HOCKEY CLUB PARTY?? IVE LITERALLY KEPT MY EYES ON HER AT EACH PARTY I never saw her speak to any other new guys

You covered your mouth to silence your laugh. Jake was seething, waiting for your explanation but you still typed on your phone.

you: yeah his name is sunghoon

park sunghoon: ???

park sunghoon: oh

park sunghoon: We’re going on a date tonight?

you: aren’t we? you asked if i was free lol

park sunghoon: I’ll pick you up at 6

You heard Jake sigh in relief, “I seriously went through all the stages of grief just now.”

When the lecture finished, Jake turned to you one more time. “If things ever go south… Just let him down easy? I like you, dude, but I can’t guarantee your safety from Jay if Sunghoon comes home crying one day.”

All you could do was gently smile and nod.

That evening, fresh from the shower and loaded with the jitters of the impending date in about an hour, you received a text.

park sunghoon: Are you craving anything

you: you

park sunghoon: huh

you: can surprise me

You laughed out loud at yourself. You saw your roommate stare from the corner of your eye. “Embarassing,” she teased.

When Sunghoon notified you of his arrival, you took a deep breath before exiting the dorm building. This was only the second date - sure you’ve had many hours of drunkenness with him at parties - but it didn’t settle the nerves of a date any less.

He smiled at you when you opened the passenger door, a single pink tulip waiting for you on your seat.

Sunghoon’s car always smelled deeply of him, so clean and fresh. He smelled of soap, or crisp linen, and sometimes, like today, you noticed hints of coffee.

“So, I was thinking, does sushi sound good?”

“It’s not really a surprise if you tell me before we go,” you quipped. “But yes, of course.”

He poked your cheek. Sunghoon shared details about his day, discussing a couple of hours at the rink before class.

He snorted, “It’s always awkward giving lessons to kids who have tiger parents. This little boy today ate shit on the ice practicing his loop and his mom yelled at him from the stands.”

Sunghoon grimaced, “Then she yelled at me…”

Your conversation flowed throughout the drive into downtown. He asked you about your day, and you left out the flurry of texts you read about yourself, courtesy of Jake.

“Another girl dm’ed me asking if I wanted to rush next semester. And then she explained she could guarantee me a bid.”

“They must be desperate if they’re asking you.”

“Yeah, like I don’t know if I’d want to ru- wait. What are you trying to say?” You punched his shoulder as he cackled.

“Don’t hit the driver! Very dangerous.”

The restaurant was packed, but since Sunghoon had called ahead of time, you were seated very quickly.

“What would you have done if I didn’t agree to sushi?”

“I would’ve brought you here anyway. Surprise!”

The sashimi was delicious; and you and Sunghoon, shamelessly, audibly groaned at the taste. You two argued over which fish was best, obviously the salmon, and though he disagreed, he happily scarfed down the last piece of salmon when you offered it.

You let Sunghoon guide you through the streets of downtown for a couple blocks, thinking you were just aimlessly walking, before he stopped abruptly.

“You haven’t been here have you?”

He brought you to the skating rink. Sunghoon followed your hands with his gaze as you gripped the ends of your thin long sleeve.

“Don’t worry, I have a jacket in my work locker!” He took your hand as he led you inside.

His coworkers greeted him brightly, a couple of them squinting at him suggestively when they noticed you were holding hands.

Sunghoon helped you select some skates, before taking your hand again to lead you to the back area to his locker. He grabbed the skates out of your hands to exchange them for his hoodie, grinning as you slipped it over your body.

He balanced the two pairs of skates in one arm, still gripping your hand as he took you to the actual rink.

You sat down at a bench on the outskirts of the stands and stared as Sunghoon squatted down in front of you.

“Here, I’ll help you lace them up,” he said, smiling up at you.

“Ok, dad.”

He rolled his eyes, and you blushed as he took one of your feet in his hands to guide it into the skate. He said nothing as he tightened the laces, and tied them expertly with his long fingers.

You gulped. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of his hands as he put on his own skates.

Sunghoon on ice was a different version of him altogether. He took both of your hands into his, gliding backwards. Effortlessly, he kept his eyes on you, while you stared at the ice at his stable feet and your shaky ones.

“Look up at me; it helps with balance,” he said as he tilted your head up with a finger.

In efforts to hide your embarrassment, you responded, “Ice skating seems like the perfect way for you to charm women.”

He grinned, “Yeah, and judging by the look of you… It’s working, isn’t it?”

If you weren’t so uncoordinated on ice, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kissed him right there.

After freshening up in the bathroom, wiping away the sniffles from the cold and fixing up your hair, you found Sunghoon chatting with his coworker at the skate counter.

“You don’t have anywhere to be early tomorrow do you?”

You thought of the 9 am study session you were invited to go to before class. “… Nope, I’m free.”

“That sounded like a lie, but I’ll take it because I feel selfish today,” Sunghoon joked. You thought of how attentive he was today. He was anything but selfish. “Let’s watch a movie, we didn’t properly use my surround sound last time.”

For once the HYB house was quiet and peaceful. The walls were still lined with funny banners, or old decorations. Each time you were at the house previously, it was at night, the rooms only illuminated by LEDs or strobe lights. This time the front of the house was brightly lit by the chandelier. You noticed the fond remains of a certain poster.

This was the first time being in Sunghoon’s room, without the excuse of tequila or rum or a “loud party” ushering you two inside. You could actually make out the couple trophies that were set on a shelf. First Place Park Sunghoon. Another one reading: Runner Up National Champion - Novice.

“Did you ever think of going pro? Making it your full career?”

Sunghoon smiled softly, “Everyday since I started when I was 9, and until I was 17.”

“Injury?”

“Man, we’re getting into the deep stuff… but no, actually. I think I just started getting tired of skating being the only thing I knew. I had like 3 friends on a good day.”

He sat on his bed, patting the space next to him for you, and continued, “I still skated in comps up until last year before I transferred… But it hadn’t felt the same since high school.”

You placed your hand on his knee in support, saying nothing to let him continue if he wanted.

“Now, I’m just trying new things, learning more about what’s out there. I still skate, obviously, but I think I feel better about just having it a hobby than making it my whole life.”

“You’ve gotta show me your old competition videos.”

Sunghoon frowned, “Too embarrassing.”

“Totally googling you later.”

“I’ll show you under one condition,” his hand shifted onto your lap, and leaned towards you. You could almost feel his breathing.

You nodded slowly, “And what would that be?”

He leaned back and grinned, “You share something equally embarassing of course! Your face is so red… Jeez, what did you have in mind, Y/N?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. The flirting, his suggestive eyes, his teases.

“Kiss me,” you stated. “Please.”

Sunghoon blinked in surprise, his teasing smile fading into one of confidence, of pride.

“Well, only since you said please,” he whispered.

You fluttered your eyes closed and you gripped one of his arms as your lips catch his.

Sunghoon smiled and pulled his lips away for a second, “I can’t believe you ordered mint hot cocoa. I can taste it,” his forehead resting against yours.”

“Don’t like it?” you teased.

He kissed you, before saying, “Normally, never. On you? I guess I can tolerate it.”

You pulled him back in, teeth clashing and eager eager hands reaching for the nape of his neck. One of Sunghoon’s arms snaked around your back, guiding you to lay flat on his bed, his other arm leaning by your head to support his weight above you.

He traced kisses down the side of your jaw and you sighed.

“Please,” you hushed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. As he pulled his top over his head, your fingers eagerly glided up his toned abdomen, over his chest, before settling on his wide shoulders again. He leaned down to brush trails over your neck with his lips, his tongue slipping out to fully taste you.

“Seeing you in my clothes…” he mumbled against your skin. You were indeed still wearing his hoodie from the rink.

A worried thought crossed your mind, which was jarring since your only other thoughts were how good his lips felt on your skin, and how nice his fingers were as one of them teasingly toyed with the waistband of your pants.

“Hoon.” His body stopped moving and he looked up seriously at you with hooded lids.

“Why haven’t we ever … gone all the way?”

Sunghoon leaned back, and then laid next to you on his side. “I didn’t want the first time we did anything more to be when we were drunk. I… wanna really remember it. I’m sorry for not explaining that each time I’ve stopped us…”

“Yeah, not sure Heeseung would appreciate being tangled in a lie.”

“OK. That time, I admit, I don’t even know why I did that. I was so nervous,” he covered his eyes with a hand.

“You’re more sappy and sentimental than you look,” you traced a finger over his lips and kissed him, his eyes still covered.

“Alright,” he finally looked at you, his eyes dark. “What do I look like?”

You smirked, “Someone who looks good underneath me.”

And it was true. Sunghoon looked real good. And he was well worth the wait.

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic #fic: dth #peachenle fic #sunghoon imagines #ahhhhhhh i wrote this in a flurry i love and hate it idk #if you see me edit this later my bad lol #i love you sunghoon park!

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delzinrowe · 3 months

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Aftermath - Kento Nanami

WORD COUNT: ~4.2K WARNINGS: Some minor & major alterations to Shibuya Arc! No Culling Games in this fic. Otherwise no serious warnings. F!Reader SUMMARY: Three days after the Shibuya Incident in the midst of the aftermath Y/N is trying to sort out her emotions and deal with what happened. A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! If you want to be tagged in upcoming fics/drabbles, please let me know!!! Thank you, and enjoy <3 Considering there are alterations to Shibuya: PLEASE, keep your replies/comments spoiler free, to ensure the unaltered enjoyment of other readers. Thank you!

Curses had claimed Shibuya. Half the district was gone, reduced to ashes and debris. Thousands of human lives were eradicated, leaving nothing but pain and emptiness in the hearts of those who miraculously survived the tragedy.

The remaining sorcerers tried their best to evacuate those who lived too close to the newly created wastelands of Tokyo. There was no telling how long it would take to get rid of all the curses, if that was even possible. Therefore saving and protecting all non-sorcerers had priority.

Within record time Y/N had scouted through the rackages in search of any survivors and brought them to Shoko for treatment. It was a tiring task, not only physically but mentally. Seeing the devastating destruction caused by Sukuna, Kenjaku and the countless curses truly took a toll on everyone.

All it took was a few hours to save all the survivors. But this small win was overshadowed by the carnage left behind. Every sorcerer had returned to the Tokyo Jujutsu High grounds, even the ones from Kyoto decided to stay. Considering the immediate threat posed by the countless curses roaming the streets it was the most logical decision for everyone to stay and aid the Tokyo sorcerers.

Many of the sorcerers made it their daily mission to eradicate as many curses as they possibly could, it was their way of dealing with the losses. Among those was Y/N. After the incident she focused all her attention on the vile creatures, spending every minute on the battlefield. As one of the teachers at Jujutsu High she had always made it her priority to keep everyone safe. If going on a rampage and killing curses left and right was the only way for her to ensure no one else would be hurt, so be it.

Just after killing the last of the evil spirits in front of her she fell to her knees. The exhaustion of the past few days took over her body, but she fought against it.

“You can’t keep going like this, Y/N.” Nanami Kento’s voice sounded from a bit further away, as his feet slowly carried him closer to her kneeling form. The blonde sorcerer seemed exhausted as well, carrying scars and injuries from the massacre days ago.

“Sure I can. I have to.” She responded, but her words didn’t hold as much strength as she had intended. And when she stood up she realised how much her body trembled.

“When was the last time you slept?” He inquired with this slightly disappointing tone that made her feel aggravated all too quickly.

“For your information I slept last night.” By now he was standing before her, watching with eagle eyes as she brushed the dirt off her clothes.

“How many hours?” His question earned him an eye-roll in response. Why did he feel the need to act like this right now when he knew the current situation better than anyone.

She refrained from answering, knowing fully well that in her agitated state she might say something spiteful or mean that she’d regret later on.

“You cannot keep this up.” His voice now held a more stern tone as he tried desperately to get through to her. However, the more he tried to reason with her the more she resisted.

“I’m not a child, Kento, I can take care of myself. Thank you.” She had never raised her voice at him like this before, but his nagging really was not what she needed right now. While she knew that it came from a good place, it fell on deaf ears. She had lost too many people, had watched close friends be slaughtered like pigs in front of her.

“Obviously you can’t!” He yelled back at her when she had already turned on her heel.

“You’re a teacher, don’t you think you should be a role model to your students?” Y/N couldn’t see it but she knew that he wore a pleading expression on his face, simply with the way his voice sounded almost desperate to get through to her.

“I am!” Was all she shouted back at him before walking further away, out of his field of vision. She had to get away from him right now even if she knew that he only meant well.

Didn’t he understand that she needed this? That she needed to exorcize as many curses as she could? That she needed to make these streets safer for everyone?

Nanami knew her better than anyone. And he knew that she needed this, but not ‘to make the streets safer’. Not because Exorcizing curses was the simple job of a sorcerer.

No. Y/N needed this for herself more than anything.

Once she had walked further away, when she was out of earshot, she once more collapsed, physically and mentally. She dropped to her knees, not caring that the tiny stones on the ground would leave marks on her knees even through her pants, and balled her hands into fists. She made no attempts in stopping the tears that started filling her eyes, eventually rolling down her cheeks and dropping onto the ruined ground, which once was a bustling street filled with life.

Minutes passed in which Y/N cried without a care in the word if anyone saw her. The overwhelming guilt she felt caused her chest to tighten and burn as if it was on fire.

“Survivor’s Guilt”, is what Shoko had called it when she patched up Y/N’s injuries. “It’s the belief that you did something wrong by surviving when others didn’t.”, she explained it further. Y/N knew that it wasn’t rational to feel like this, but what did that help when she was convinced on a deeply emotional level that by surviving she truly did do something wrong.

“It’s not fair. So many talented and skilled people died, but I survived. Why? It’s just not fair…” She had argumented, but Shoko was quick to smack the back of her head, effectively capturing her full attention. The healer had made it clear to her that she didn’t survive for nothing, that people still needed her. It was enough to give Y/N at least some mental strength, but as soon as she had left Shoko’s infirmary she fell into the habit of not eating, not sleeping and using all her time to hunt down every cursed spirit she could find.

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour, considering the sun was pretty much still at the same spot in the sky. She frankly didn’t care all too much about it either way.

After wiping lazily over her face she finally stood up, skillfully ignoring that her knees felt like dough and her legs trembled. It simply did not matter, she felt as if nothing mattered. At the same time everything mattered.

By now she deeply regretted snapping at Nanami, he was the least person to deserve that. He had always been some sort of role model to Y/N. His moral code in keeping children safe and not letting the youth experience any misery greatly inspired her to become a teacher at Jujutsu High.

She decided to apologise when she saw him next. He’d understand her, she was sure of it. For now she just wanted to get out of here. Her strength was decreasing due to lack of sleep and nutrition. As skilled and talented as she was, she wasn’t arrogant enough to believe she could take on multiple high grade curses in her current status.

Her walk back to the next operating public transportation wasn’t short, giving her plenty of time to think of the exact words she wanted to tell Nanami during her apology and how she’d explain herself. Even though she knew that his maturity wouldn’t expect her to explain anything. He surely knew how she felt. She guessed that he was ridden with the same form of guilt that plagued her mind and heart.

Y/N paid it no mind to the unamused glares and frowns of disapproval she received from strangers on the train. She knew that the blood stains and tears in her clothes were bound to attract the attention of non-sorcerers. Sometimes she’d even jump at the chance to horrify some particularly judgmental bystanders.

“Don’t worry, it’s not my blood.” She’d muse in an assuring tone of voice while showing a smile that seemed far too friendly. Every time, without exception, it would earn a wide-eyed stare.

However, today she was not in the mood to provoke anyone. She settled for mindlessly watching the passing landscape, it was all a blur to her unfocused eyes. Only when the mechanical voice announced the next stop was she ripped out of her thoughts. Due to a quick message she had sent when she stepped into the wagon she was greeted with Ijichi’s soft smile.

The tone between the two had always been kind and casual, almost friendly, which was something Y/N deeply appreciated. Other assistants sometimes didn’t dare to pursue a friendship with sorcerers, especially higher grades. They claimed it was due to professionalism, but the truth was that the assistants didn’t want to get attached to someone who’d end up dying well before their time.

Ijichi, in his gentlemanly behaviour, held open the car door for Y/N. Behind his nervous smile was a wave of worry when he glanced at the countless cuts and bruises that littered her body. The dried up blood as well as the torn clothes only added to his inner turmoil. Yet, every time he brought up his concerns for her wellbeing she shot him down with a lazy attempt at reassurance. It never worked.

“Has Yuji-kun already talked to you?” He asked with an almost cautious tone after he slipped into the driver’s seat and ignited the engine. Through the rear view mirror he could see how she furrowed her brows in confusion. It was enough of an answer for him.

“He mentioned that he was looking for you.” Ijichi explained further but Y/N only shook her head.

“I’ll find him when I’m at Jujutsu Tech. Thanks for telling me.”

After these words the remainder of the drive was spent in silence. It wasn’t unusual for rides with assistants to be quiet. Most trips with Ijichi however, were spent chatting about missions and the current state of affairs.

This time the assistant kept quiet. Perhaps because he wasn’t fully well yet either. Shoko had only allowed him to operate the car he was currently driving. Everything else was strictly off limits to prevent him from overworking. A trait shared by seemingly everyone and their mother in the sorcerer society.

The two of them reached the school grounds quickly and while absent-mindedly muttering a “Thank you.” Y/N stepped out of the car, heading straight towards Shoko’s infirmary to get her wounds treated.

The eerie silence in her mind, surrounded by the noise of nature in the form of birds chirping and leaves rustling, were all that filled the air, but not for long. Before she even made it halfway to her destination she was suddenly stopped by a voice yelling her name from a bit further away. It was a voice she had come to know well.

“What’s up, Yuji?” She asked as she turned towards him. The boy stopped a few feet away, despite seemingly running he was barely out of breath.

“Y/L/N-Sensei, you’re not forgetting about later right?” The pink haired boy almost seemed timid and hesitant but Y/N didn’t read into it. There was no reason for something like that at a time like this.

“About the little get-together later? I won’t forget, Yuji.” She had to force a little smile onto her lips as she reassured him. It seemed to be all the young student wanted to talk about as he quickly nodded and shot her a smile, that seemed far too out of place for the mindset she surrounded herself with at the moment, before he turned around and disappeared into the direction he came from.

Y/N didn’t like that Gojo was throwing a get-together at a time like this, just days after a devastating tragedy that caused pain and loss to so many people. Yet, another part of her could understand it somehow. Even though he acted like an idiot at times, she knew his heart was at the right place. She figured quickly that he wanted to bring them all together to strengthen the bond of the remaining sorcerers, ultimately making it easier to rely on each other. Perchance he even had a plan to deal with the curses, and most of all, the curse user formerly known as Geto Suguru.

With all this in her mind she finally made her way to Shoko. The breeze, that was far too warm for this time of the year, went by her without any recognition. All she could do was try not to get lost in her thoughts, her planned apology to Nanami still lingering in the back of her mind.

“You’re looking great again…” Shoko’s voice was filled to the brim with sarcasm.

“Thanks, always a pleasure to see you.” Y/N attempted to respond with the same level of mockery as she rolled her eyes, but her tone sounded more annoyed than anything else.

“Is that why you’re making it a habit to visit every day with new injuries? Y/N, you can’t keep doing that.” It was uncommon for the (now again) heavy smoker to show this level of concern for others. She was well aware that her fellow sorcerers could handle themselves well.

“Damn, I heard that before.” This time Y/N’s words were dripping with sarcasm. There was no ill-will in her voice, but Shoko immediately realised that she had more luck getting through a wall than her patient’s thick skull. With a sigh she simply decided to drop the subject.

Only mere minutes later all of Y/N’s injuries were healed, or at least taken care of and she left Shoko’s infirmary after voicing her gratitude.

“Should I pick you up later, or..?” Y/N didn’t answer the question that was yelled after. She heard it, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. Why would it matter if Shoko picked her up for the stupid get-together? It came as a surprise that Shoko even cared about one of Gojo’s plans.

The sky had cleared up within the past minutes, allowing the sun to shine down on the scenery and dipping the landscape in a plethora of orange hues. However, the colour spectacle went unnoticed by Y/N, whose feet carried her to her assigned room. Out of courtesy, or rather practicality, the higher-ups had decided to offer the empty dormitories to the remaining few sorcerers. Considering the school was protected by barriers, this served as a means to keep them safe more so than goodwill.

Time passed by quickly, or maybe it didn’t, but Y/N was simply too caught up in her own thoughts. She could feel herself being dragged down once more, spiralling into the depths of her sorrow. She thought that maybe as soon as she reached the room the thoughts would dissipate, but nothing of that sort happened.

Seemingly like a zombie trapped in her own mind she undressed herself, showered, dried herself off and changed into a set of clean clothes. She settled for the only black dress she wore. Taking into account the circumstances it felt fitting to wear black, even if Gojo would possibly find a way to bring colour into everything.

Maybe this get-together was exactly what everyone needed right now. Maybe this was a chance to reconnect and move on. Maybe, just maybe, Gojo’s idea wasn’t too bad.

After checking the clock on her phone for the nth time Y/N to get going. Arriving early was always fashionable, wasn’t it? Besides, she knew that Nanami, as much as he disliked these gatherings, would most probably be there early as well. She’d simply take the time to talk to him and apologise. This way she had a chance of enjoying the rest of the late afternoon, possibly even with Nanami next to her.

And wouldn’t you know it, just like she had predicted, the blonde sorcerer stood outside the venue, glancing at the watch on his wrist. To no one’s surprise he wore the same white suit as always. He likely owned it multiple times to make dressing up in the morning easier, a simple fact she had never cared to think about before. Now it almost seemed hilarious to her. Nonetheless there was a frown on her lips. Knowing that she had to act like a responsible grown up and apologise for her earlier outburst left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Kento! Hey.” She greeted him almost hesitantly, if he noticed the nervousness in her voice he didn’t show it. He simply greeted her back while turning towards her.

“Can I talk to you about earlier this morning?” What a stupid way to have phrased it. Of course she could, she evidently had the ability to do so. Internally she scolded herself instantly over her choice of words.

“If you want to apologise, there’s no need for it, Y/N.” Here he went again, being the ever considerate and thoughtful person she knew him as. The expression on his face was almost soft, something he only showed around a small number of people, which she considered herself lucky to be a part of.

Before she even had the chance to respond to him he spoke up once more, prompted by the uncertainty shown on her features.

“I’m serious. It’s a difficult time for everyone, we’re all on edge. It’s alright.” Nanami uttered with a tone so full of understanding that it almost blew her away. Then again, despite him being the youngest of the adult sorcerers, he had always been the most mature one and the voice of reason.

For a few short minutes a comfortable silence was shared between the two, until Y/N glanced over his white suit and remembered her train of thought from before.

“You decided to keep wearing that same white suit? Don’t you have anything different to wear?” Y/N’s almost playful glance revealed the nature of her words, there was no malice or ill-intent. She prided herself on being the only one who could get him to engage in conversations in a light-hearted manner.

“Why? Don’t you think it looks handsome?” Nanami’s response came quickly, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Oh, it definitely does.” She replied back, unable to help herself from chuckling once more as she saw the slight smile forming on his lips. At this very moment it almost felt like nothing bad had ever happened.

“Y/N, there is one thing you have to do for me.” Nanami spoke up once again. Y/N didn’t pay too much attention to his somewhat more seriously sounding tone, that was simply his nature.

“You can't keep me from getting absolutely shitfaced drunk.” If this get-together was anything like Gojo’s previous festivities there would be an unlimited amount of alcohol provided. Even if the host of these gatherings never drank an ounce of it himself.

When Nanami didn’t respond or smile at her quick remark she straightened her posture and looked at him expectantly.

“You have to forgive yourself for everything that went down the other day.” He continued then, judging by his tone it was clear as day what exactly he was referring to.

Without any sort of warning a wave of guilt washed over Y/N. Her chest tightened at the reminder of how many lives were lost, how many people she couldn’t save. The destruction was terrible. But it wasn’t the source of her pain. Involuntarily her mind wandered to the corpses which had littered the grounds of the Shibuya station. Her lips started to quiver but she was determined not to give in to the tears. No other word was needed, no clarification or elaboration. She knew what he meant.

Nanami didn’t rush her in her response, instead he gave her all the time she needed by waiting patiently. Something she was thankful for, even if he was the only reason she needed time in the first place.

Y/N hardly noticed when the index finger of her right hand started to scrape at her thumb’s cuticle. Her head was turned away, gaze averted from him. A part of her knew that she had to forgive herself. In fact, she knew that there wasn’t anything to forgive herself for since she had done everything in her powers to save as many people as she could. She had done enough. But her heart did not agree with her head. In her heart she had failed the people of Tokyo. She had failed her fellow sorcerers. She had failed herself.

“You can be really annoying sometimes.” She responded after what seemed like forever, allowing a deep sigh to leave her lungs. ‘Mostly when you’re the voice of reason’, she added in her thoughts bitterly while turning her gaze back to him.

“Yes. Maybe.” His words of agreement were simultaneously out of place and so very typical for him, at least when he was with her. It was enough for her to crack an unwanted smile.

She breathed in deeply, once, twice, and another time.

“Okay.” She finally answered his previous request. Both of them knew that Y/N needed more time to actually forgive herself, but it was a step in the right direction. It was an unspoken promise that she’d attempt to do this for him.

Nanami only responded with a proud nod, barely mouthing the word “Good.”

The quick change in atmosphere had almost caused her heart to beat irregularly. A silence hung over them, but this time it was heavier than before.

Y/N needed to shift the mood again, she needed to uplift not only his spirit, but also her own. She knew that otherwise she’d be glum and gloomy during Gojo’s get-together. There had been too much tragedy within a short time, a killjoy was definitely not what any of the sorcerers needed.

“Since you’re forced to attend this get-together, when are you gonna start complaining?” She chuckled, a little forced anyways, as she asked the blonde sorcerer.

“Complaining about what?” It was Shoko’s voice that sounded from behind Y/N, making her turn around and face the healer with a smile. Although Shoko was never full of energy and happiness, she seemed even more dispirited than ever.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “You know, about Gojo’s obnoxious attitude, about our tone deaf singing when we get drunk, about music that’s way too loud. The whole thing, really.” It seemed obvious to her that Nanami wouldn’t enjoy any of these things.

Shoko’s brows furrowed, her head tilted ever so lightly and her lips pursed.

“Where do you think we are?” She asked Y/N. A question like this would usually have resulted in the female sorcerer chuckling and replying in an amused tone. However, something about Shoko’s tone made her hesitate.

Y/N turned around towards Nanami once more, ready to smile at him.

Except, he wasn’t there anymore.

In a split second Y/N’s entire world came crashing down on her as the realisation set in that he had never been there in the first place. Images of her fights in Shibuya flashed before her eyes. Imagines consisting of sorcerers dying in front of her because she had been too slow.

A ringing set in her ears, intensifying with each memory that surfaced. The sound became stronger when she remembered finding Nanami again amidst the chaos and rubble of the destroyed Tokyo district. She had watched him fight, she had yelled after him, she had attempted to reach him and aid him.

Y/N swallowed hard, slowly turning towards Shoko again. Her chest tightened enough to leave her breathless. With a bitter smile on her face she lowered her gaze. Reluctantly she forced herself to walk, taking one painful step at a time towards the row of outdoor chairs that were neatly set up in front of the closed casket.

She had saved lives and exorcised many curses in Shibuya. She helped search for survivors and consoled the ones that were left behind after the losses.

Alas, the only thing she would forever remember about that night was how she witnessed Nanami dying right in front of her, when she had been too slow to save him.

Without any form of communication she sat down on one of the chairs in the first row, right in front of Nanami’s picture.

She was soon joined by Shoko who sat down next to her, placing a warm hand on her thigh and rubbing it assuringly. The gesture went unnoticed by Y/N, whose eyes were focused on all the little details she could make out on the picture atop the casket. Details that blurred more and more when her eyes filled with tears upon realising that it was all an illusion.

The arguments, the smiles, the quick light-hearted banter she shared with the blonde man during these last few days. It was nothing more than a beautiful hallucination.

#stef writes #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento brainrot #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento scenario #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you

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damn-stark · 1 year

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Chapter 3 I’d make a deal with god

Chapter 3 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

A/N- I hope you guys like the chapter

Warning- ANGST, violence, death and blood, swearing, long chapter, some fluff :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Henry x Fem!reader

Episode- 1x05-1x06 (only the beginning)

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

The street was quiet. And as far as views go, it was the same way as it was in the tunnel, dark and eerie.

The stars overhead were tempting to admire, you felt grateful that you were out of the humid tunnel and breathing fresh air, but the cul-de-sac was too quiet, and you weren’t actually across the river yet. You knew better than to get your hopes up too soon; just like most of what you’ve learned from life, you learned that the hard way.

Yet it seems Henry and Sam don’t quite get that.

Then again how could they know? The farthest they’ve gone out of the city is being in that forest. They only know a small part of what the world is like.

“No,” Henry breaks the silence you had purposely left as you tried to make your way to the bridge. “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because my plan worked.”

Your dad scoffs in annoyance, “so much goddamn talkin’.”

You look back at Henry over your shoulder and add on too. “We’re not across the river yet, let’s wait to celebrate then.”

“I’m just saying,” Henry continues smugly. “I delivered.”

You smirk faintly and roll your eyes to look back ahead.

“Make this right,” he points out. “Go down the street, embankment behind the last house, and we’re out.”

“So we cross the river and then what?” Ellie asks. “Where ya gonna go?”

You glance over at your dad, and even if it hasn’t been discussed you know that there’s no option but to travel home together now.

At least you hope that’s what he’s thinkin’ too.

“We’re going to Wyoming,” you share and blink to look at your dad for reassurance. “We can go together.”

But as expected when your dad meets your gaze he remains nonchalant. He then peers back at Henry though, and seems to look…unsure. “How about we cross the river and then talk.”

You swallow thickly and look back ahead. Would this really be it?

Ellie notices his look, he reads him like you do and comments on the matter. “Don’t worry he’ll give in. Trust me.”

Trust her?

How long have they been together?

“This is how it goes?” Ellie continues. “He’s like, No, Ellie,” she begins to mock him in a deep voice, causing you to blink in disbelief before you peer back at her. “Never, ever, ever happening.”

Regardless of what uneasiness you felt by his lack of agreeance, what jealousy just sparked, you can’t help but grin in amusement at her teasing.

“And then I’m like,” Ellie continues in her normal voice. “I’m gonna ask you a million more times. And he’s like—”

Before she can finish what she’s saying, she’s suddenly interrupted by the sound of a gunshot whizzing past your ear, and hitting the ground inches away from you.

“Fuck!” Ellie screams, while you cover your ear and throw yourself to the ground, losing that smile.

“Move, move!” Your dad yells and proceeds to grab your arm to yank you off the ground, and push you and Ellie behind a rusted car.

“Y/N,” you hear Henry from the ear that’s not currently ringing. “Are you okay? Did it hit you?”

You groan and shake your head. “No…no,” you pant. “Just went past me.”

“Where fuck is that coming from—”

“Shut up,” your dad cuts Henry off now.

You pull your hand away from your ear as the ringing begins to fade, and look over at your dad peeking past the top of the hood. A gunshot then breaks a car window though, so he ducks his head back down.

“How many?” You ask him.

Your dad shakes his head. “One, I think. I can’t be sure, not from here.”

You swallow thickly and snatch your rifle off your shoulder. You try to suggest a risky idea that comes to mind, but then another gunshot goes off and a hand wraps around your wrist instead.

“Shit,” Henry panics and looks away from the shooter to try and move with Sam at his other hand. “Alright, fuck. Let’s move. Let’s go.”

Without hesitance you yank your arm back and grab his wrist instead to pull him back down. “I’m not leaving my dad. And you can’t just get up like that or you’ll get shot,” you scold him as kindly as you can sound. “Stay down.” You then snap your eyes to your dad and share the idea you had in mind. “I can shoot them, I just need a distraction so he doesn’t end up shooting me.”

A bullet hits the car you’re behind, and your dad lets his gaze linger on you as he thinks about the plan you shared.

You want him to say yes so he’d see that you’re capable, that you’ve changed from that little girl he saw last time, years ago.

However, he shakes his head and sighs.

“Dad—”

“I’ll go,” he cuts you off before you can argue. “You two stay here.” He directs to Ellie and yourself.

“What?” Ellie asks in confusion.

He turns to face Ellie now. “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you,” he tells her, and then looks to you. “I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back, and then I’ll take him out.”

You shake your head and protest. “If you go out there, he’s gonna kill you.”

“It’s dark and he has shit aim. Nobody’s gonna kill me. Besides, I ain’t putting you at risk.”

“You just said—”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off sharply. “Do you trust me?”

You lower your shoulders from their tense position, you let your face soften from its hardened state and nod softly without as much as thinking about it.

Your dad proceeds to pull his gun out and looks to Ellie to speak to her. “If anything happens you stick with her, got it?”

Ellie glances at you and hesitates before returning her gaze to him and nodding in comprehension. After that your dad proceeds to scurry away through the cover of night, making the person in that house try to follow him with their gun to try and shoot him.

And now, while the person is distracted you lift your head over the car's hood to finally take a peek yourself. That’s when you catch only one light reflecting from a window before the bullet hits the ground in front of the car. You proceed to look around at the other houses to see if there were more, but your dad was right it seems to be just one in the house straight ahead.

Just one. Your dad will be fine.

You duck back behind the car and wait. Wait in anticipation. You hold onto your pendant around your neck and wait. A few more bullets go off and hit the objects around you, you wait for them to reload and shoot again, but a longer silence follows now, letting you guess that your dad might have reached the shooter now.

You slowly lift your head and peek out, and luckily this time you see no more reflection. Yet you can’t be assured that your dad has gotten to him, not until you can see him up there giving you all a sign.

However, a few seconds pass of more silence and he doesn’t give you any. Instead you hear one gunshot echo, it doesn’t hit anything nearby it just echoes, meaning one of two things; your dad shot the shooter, or the shooter shot your dad.

You can’t think of losing him just as you reunited, so you’ll go with he’s the one that shot the shooter first.

“It seems your dad got him,” Henry interjects.

You stop fiddling with the pendant and meet his gaze with hope. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I think so too. Let’s just wait until he gives a sign though.”

Henry nods in agreement, and silence follows again. Albeit the silence breaks soon thereafter with a distant scream from your dad. “Run!”

You blink in confusion, and hang your rifle over your shoulder again as you slowly push yourself up to try and get a view of him.

“Run!” Your dad yells again.

Why is he saying that?

And only seconds later is when you begin to hear the distant sounds of engines running. When you snap your eyes ahead you notice headlights down the street, getting larger the closer they get, and brighter as more than one begins to appear.

“Go! Go, go!” You bellow to the group, and push Ellie in front of you so she can get ahead of you so can you run behind her, Henry and Sam.

The closer the leading car gets, the more you hear metal clashing as cars blocking the street get shoved aside. Bullets ring against metal too as your dad tries to shoot the driver of the moving truck, and as Ellie tries to shoot back aimlessly.

You want to shoot at the driver too to at least get that car off your trail, but when you hit the trigger you come out empty since you haven’t given Henry his empty pistol back.

“Fuck,” you grumble. “Fuck. Fuck.”

As Henry and Sam get ahead faster, you mindlessly begin to run past Ellie to try and reach the other end of the street. However, it’s at that moment that you begin to get ahead that you suddenly hear glass clash, brakes then screech before you hear a crash through one of the wooden houses.

You try to look back at the sight, you try to look back even when you hear multiple cars brake behind you, even if it’s one thing you didn’t like to do while running away from dangerous shit, but you remember Ellie had fallen behind, so you look. That’s when you see her on the ground, and multiple people climbing out of their cars.

It’s a fucking risk to go back especially since they all have guns, but you can’t leave her behind, not even if you feel a smidge of jealousy towards her. Maybe giving her the slight cold shoulder is something that you can live with, but leaving her behind is something that would haunt you, so you quickly turn back around on your heels and sprint towards her.

She catches you running at her as she remains stunned on the ground and her eyes brighten before she pushes herself up and then runs at you.

“Come on!” You yell at her. “Come on!”

Ellie quickens her pace as best as she can, and just as you throw your hand out to reach for hers suddenly an explosion goes off at your side, and the force throws you both to the ground.

“Fuck,” you cough out seconds later, and flutter your eyes open, catching a bright raging light now brighten the street. “Fuck.�� You snap your head up and see Ellie moving slightly. That fills you with relief over the fact that she isn’t badly hurt. Or at least that’s what it seems like.

“Ellie,” you call out between pants. “Ellie, are you—”

Before you can finish your question though, hands get slapped around your arms and begin to yank off the ground.

“Come on, come on,” someone muffles.

You snap your head back in a panic, but thankfully only see Henry.

“You’re not hurt?” He asks.

You shake your head and get up to your feet. “No, no, I’m okay. Go, help Ellie.”

Henry nods and leaves your side to run to Ellie while you run to Sam behind a car.

“Are you okay?” Sam immediately signs to you worringly once you’re ducked close to him.

You nod quickly and redirect his question. “You okay?”

Sam nods, and both of your gazes lift as Henry and Ellie join you ducked behind the car.

“You okay?” You ask Ellie as she fixes herself between Sam and you.

She nods and mumbles, “yeah.”

Multiple footsteps now step closer, and commands get thrown out that make you stiffen. “He’s up there! Two and two! Around the back, take him out!”

“Fuck!” You hiss. There’s no way to take them out without getting caught or leaving yourself vulnerable. Fuck.

“Dead end, Henry!” You hear a woman shout—Kathleen most likely. “Gonna step out? Save us some time?”

Henry of course doesn’t answer, so Kathleen continues.

“No? That’s alright. Doesn’t matter.”

You rest your head against the car and try to think of some plan to get out of this position. Yet, Henry then interjects. “I’ll come out!”

You quickly snap your head over to him and shake it in protest. “No,” you whisper. “No, Henry no.”

Said man meets your gaze and lets his eyes linger on you. “Just let the girl and kids go!” He shouts.

You keep shaking your head in hopes he’d change his mind.

“No,” Kathleen retorts. “Sorry. The little girl is with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam, and the other girl, well they’re with you.”

You shift your eyes away and scoff.

What the fuck?! What the fuck is her problem? Wanting to kill you, you understand, but the kids?

“You don’t understand!” Henry rebuttals.

But Kathleen doesn’t listen. “But I do,” she counters. “I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?”

What the hell?

You shake your head and curl your lip in anger and disgust.

“He’s just a fucking kid!” Henry yells back.

“Well, kids die, Henry,” Kathleen says without an ounce of sympathy in her tone. “They die all the time. You think the whole world revolves around him? That he’s worth everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”

“Get ready to take him and run,” Henry blurts at you quietly.

You look over at him and see him looking at you. “No,” you rebuttal. “No.”

“Y/N,” he insists. “Yes.”

You try to look angry at his stupid choice, but instead you look hurt.

“Henry,” you whisper, but he then cups your cheek and cuts you off.

“Please. Do it.”

You stare into his eyes and want to argue, you want to yell at him for wanting to risk his life like this, for wanting you to take Sam away without leaving with him, but…you don’t. You trust him and understand this one need, you give in for him, for the love you already harbor.

“Fine,” you whisper and look over at Sam, noticing Ellie take his hand for you.

“It’s time, Henry,” Kathleen interjects. “Enough!”

You look back at Henry and meet his gaze, seeing him hesitate for a few seconds. So you reach for his trembling hand and give it a gentle squeeze. He proceeds to let his eyes linger in your hurt gaze for a moment longer before he averts his gaze, and puts his head back to pant and then whisper to himself, “okay,” before he stands up and raises his hands while he slowly steps towards the aggressor.

“It ends the way it ends,” Kathleen says after a few seconds of silence, and cocks her gun before she shouts another command. “Grab the girl he’s with too, I want him to see her die.”

You gasp and freeze since you know she only means you.

“No!” Henry shouts. “Wait, no! Not her! She had nothing to do with it! It was just me!”

Footsteps begin to approach, and your heart begins to race, your hands begin to shake, but you put on a brave face and roll your eyes to the side to glare at the rugged man approaching you.

“Touch them and I’ll kill you,” you grimace.

The man tries to grab you, but you stand up by yourself and step away from him. “Don’t you dare,” you snap and raise your hands.

“Come on,” the man orders and points the gun forward.

“No,” Kathleen adds now as you get forced to stand by Henry. “She might have not had anything to do with it, but you care about her.”

You drift your eyes to Henry, and end up meeting his angry and worried gaze.

“It’s okay,” you mouth to him with an assuring look and smile. “It’s okay.” You drift your gaze back to Kathleen and shoot her an unbothered glare.

There’s only one man next to you, the others are standing a bit too far to react too fast. They wouldn’t let one of their own die would they? They cared so much about the one person your dad killed, so….

Quickly before anyone can react to you, you fist your left hand, and quickly swing your fist up to punch the man’s forearm to make his aim fall from your head.

“Wait!” you hear Kathleen yell as guns point at you now.

You then quickly spin around and ram your fist in his throat to leave him incapacitated while you snatch his gun from him, and then use your foot to swing it under him to sweep him off the floor.

When the guy hits the ground you instantly point his gun at his head, and step on the back of his hand before slowly glaring up at Kathleen.

She looks stunned, so you take this time to look over at Henry, catching his own shocked and awed look.

“Come close and I’ll shoot him,” you threaten all of them. “Your revenge can’t mean more than your man’s life now does it?” You taunt Kathleen with a sly smirk.

Kathleen moves her gun to point at you and parts her lips to say something, but she then cuts herself off as the sound of rubble and creaking metal steals everyone’s attention, including Henry’s and yours.

At first it doesn’t seem like much, just the ground beneath the truck crumbling due to the explosion. But it’s from that same hole that the truck falls into that lets out the sound of distant groaning and growling. Infected….

You remove your foot off the man under you and help up so he can run away. You then snap your head over to Henry, and he meets your gaze to share a knowing look since no one can deny the sounds.

Yet before either of you can run away dozens, no, hundreds of infected climb out from the ground and don’t waste a second to charge at everyone that is formed in front of the hole. They all try to shoot at the runners and the clickers that charge at them, but there’s too many, too many overwhelm them immediately—It’s so many of them climbing out of the ground.

You’ve seen hordes before, you’ve run from dozens of infected before, but never like this, never from one’s running out of a fire pit as if they were spawn out of hell.

The sight freezes you out of fear, leaves you vulnerable, until Henry runs at you now that the men focused their attention away from him and you, and breaks you from your stupor.

“Come on!” He yells, and you both run to the kids still ducked behind the car.

“You have my gun, I have the man’s,” you tell Henry as you duck and hide with the kids. “Take Sam and go, I’ll take Ellie and be right behind you.”

Shooters approach the car you’re hidden behind and begin shooting at infected climbing on the car. More fall at your side as bullets come from the house where your dad is in. And before long, as more infected approach, you all bolt away from behind the car to run to your dad.

However, more infected swarm the area and get in your way, so you lose sight of Henry and Sam quickly as they don’t stop running. You on the other hand use the man’s gun and shoot at the clickers and runners that charge at Ellie and you.

“Go!” You yell at Ellie. “Go, I have you covered!”

Ellie runs on ahead, and you kill any threats that are near her. Once there’s no infected ahead of you, you follow after Ellie as she runs towards a van nearby that has a window slightly opened.

A clicker closeby hears her running footsteps however and tries to charge at her, but you quickly stop in your steps to shoot it and then move the aim to shoot the other infected that can be a possible threat.

“I’ll open the door for you!” Ellie yells back as she approaches the car.

You watch her get inside through the window, and immediately more infected try to reach her through the windows; they pound and claw. You clear as many of them as you can until your bullets run out and you have no choice but to throw the gun out and use your own rifle.

Yet that has few bullets in it too, luckily your dad helps you take out as many as he can around the car and you, while Ellie crawls to the door to try and open it for you from the inside. And when you turn to grab the door handle, suddenly a stalker tackles you down to the ground.

“Oof.” You breathe out as you slam to the ground, and end up losing your gun.

The stalker tries to bite down at you, but you quickly throw your head to the side, and throw your hands up to keep it away. You want to kick it back and use your knife, but then a bullet goes through its head and it falls limb, letting you crawl back away from its corpse. You then look up at the window and give your dad a thankful nod.

He nods back, so after that, before more infected come and swarm you, you get up and find your gun first, before you face the car to get Ellie.

Neverthless, at that moment as you turn you notice a different kind of infected. It’s larger than others, tall, and plump. It has fungus coming out of its head like a clicker, but this one also has fungus growing out of its entire body. It’s…terrifying. It’s fucking horrifying, but you don’t freeze this time, you can’t. You just push its presence to the back of your head and face the car again. That’s when you see a child clicker climb in the same car Ellie is hiding in.

You know your dad has you covered from any infected around you, so you quickly throw the door open and hastily help Ellie out of the car as the clicker flips over the seats to try and reach her.

“Come on!” You urge her after you close the car door. “We’re almost there!” You grab her wrist to run towards your dad together, but she quickly stops you and points out.

“It’s Sam and Henry!”

You follow where she points to, and see the both of them under a car trying to kick away the clickers that are trying to grab them. However, there’s too many infected in your way, too many for you and Ellie to take down without getting swarmed….

Wait! That’s right...

You look up at your dad at the same time Ellie does, and you both speechlessly ask him to cover you with your looks alone.

He’s hesitant at first, but he gives you both an assuring nod, letting you both then run towards Henry and Sam.

“You help Sam, I’ll get the one on Henry!” You tell Ellie as you maneuver past bodies of the infected your dad was killing in your path.

“Okay, yeah!” She replies through pants.

You narrow your eyes on the clicker that has Henry by his feet, ignoring the car that races past behind you and quickening your pace to get closer.

Just as you approach Henry, the clicker drags him out of hiding, it wants to bite him, but you quickly lift your rifle and shoot it right in its head, killing it.

“Come on,” you tell Henry urgently as you help him to his feet. “You’re okay,” you assure him before you turn on your heels, noticing Ellie managed to get the clicker off Sam, but she can’t stab her knife deep enough to kill it. So you lift your gun and help her kill it, letting her then help Sam off the ground.

“Go, go!” You yell at everyone.

Quickly, before more infected can come towards you, you all bolt towards the house your dad is inside of. You climb up the yard hand in hand with Henry, you’re close to getting out, but then Kathleen stops you all.

“Stop!”

Henry pushes you all back behind him to block you all from her gun, but you still raise your rifle to try and use your last bullet on her.

Albeit that’s when you notice the child clicker from before sneaking up from behind her, and lower your gun instead. Kathleen blinks in confusion, and follows everyone’s line of gaze. But, she notices the clicker too late and it tackles her to the ground before she can react.

It hits her repeatedly, and overpowers her, all she can do is scream.

As bad as she was, that fate is still horrible.

“This way now!” You hear your dad yell, breaking everyone from their shock. You then look over at him in shock and watch him pushing Ellie and Sam towards the bridge just behind the houses.

“Move!” He yells and turns you around so you can keep moving behind Henry. He follows last, making sure no one or nothing follows you from the bloodbath that was now the cul-de-sac.

——

*LATER*

“Pew…pew. As the Raven 01 approaches the red planet….”

You put the paper your food was wrapped in down and drag your feet back against your chest to continue listening to Ellie reading with Sam.

Compared to all the terrified screams, all the infected growling and groaning, all the gunshots, and burning flames that had filled your ears on your way to the motel, listening to her read in the silence of night was calming and peaceful.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asks out loud, breaking the silence that was between him, your dad and you.

“Yeah,” your dad nods. “I think.”

You hug your legs and look over at him as he continues.

“It’s easier when you’re a kid anyway….” He pauses and glances at you before looking at Henry. “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.”

Being scared isn’t easy, not knowing how to help because you’re young isn't easy, but he’s also right.

“Well,” Henry interjects. “I guess we’re doing a good job then.”

Your dad nods softly in agreement, and you can’t help but smile down at your knees since they seem to be getting along more now.

“What’s that comic book say?” Your dad asks. “Endure and survive?”

You lift your gaze to look at the Savage Starlight comic book Sam and Ellie are reading, and scoff softly before you nod. “Endure and survive,” you repeat.

“That shits redundant,” Henry retorts, making you smile in amusement.

“Yeah,” your dad agrees. “It’s not great.”

You shake your head and laugh softly. “No.”

Savage Starlight was a comic book you often saw lying around, but you never got into them so much. You always enjoyed more of uh…romance, some horror, thrillers, comedy, and fantasy.

“Look, Henry,” you hear your dad continue, making you snap your eyes to him and sit up as you’re filled with curiosity. “I don’t know exactly how I’m gettin’ to Wyoming. I’m probably walkin’. But you know if you want to.”

Your smile grows wider, and your gaze grows softer as you understand your fathers invitation to Henry.

“Yeah,” Henry agrees. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it’d be nice for Sam to have a friend. I’ll tell him in the morning. New day, new start.”

You’re filled with joy now, and that fear of rejection washes away….

At least you hope your dad is also referring to you.

“What about me?” You interject to double check. Even if you might know the answer.

Your dads eyes snap to you and he scoffs before he retorts. “How do you think we’re getting there?”

You smirk and then glance at Henry sitting on a table beside you to share a soft smile with him.

“I don’t why you had to ask,” your dad mumbles.

You then look at the kids, and notice Sam fiddling with the pendant you had given him.

“Just makin’ sure,” you say and drag your legs down. “Maybe y’all wanted to leave me behind….” Wait…you catch that comment the moment it comes out. It’s wrong…it seems like a jab directed to your dad, but you didn’t mean it that way.

You snap your eyes over to him in hopes he didn’t take it that way, but you can’t tell, he’s looking away, his lips are formed in the same serious line. Fuck. Fuck….

Let’s just hope he didn’t take it badly.

You swallow thickly and look ahead, noticing Henry in the room with the kids, and Sam still holding the pendant. So choosing to just brush off your concern so as to not overthink about it, you get up and walk in the room, seeing Sam walk to the other bed now.

“Goodnight,” you sign to him as he notices you walk in.

He offers you a faint smile and redirects your comment. “Goodnight.”

Henry walks back in the room, and before you can follow him you check on Sam since he was holding the pendant. “Are you feeling okay?” You question him.

Sam nods in assurance, but you can notice his frown and a…sad look in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” You press.

Sam nods again. Perhaps it was just the events of tonight then.

“Okay,” you continue to sign to him. “No story tonight?”

Sam shakes his head. “Tomorrow,” he signs back.

You smile and nod in agreement. “Sounds good,” you sign. “Goodnight.”

Sam offers you a faint smile as a response, and before you can leave the room you glance over at Ellie and offer her a very faint smile that’s a bit forced. Maybe she’ll grow on you soon enough. Once your dad explains why they’re traveling together. Hopefully.

Anyway, once you close the room door behind you, rather than sitting back down, and since there was no other room in this curtain room you’re camping in. And since you don’t want your dad hearing your conversation with Henry, you meet your partner's gaze and point to the exit.

Henry doesn’t seem to understand though, so you point to the door again. But nothing.

You roll your eyes and just break the silence. “I’m going to get some fresh air before bed.” You nod slowly, and before anyone can say anything you make sure you have your knife with you before you walk over to the door, and push the table that’s blocking the exit to the side before walking out. Hopefully, Henry understands, and hopefully your dad doesn’t walk out. As funny as that would be, it’s not who you want to talk to.

Regardless, as you wait you lean against the railing and look up at the shining stars painted on the night sky. You smile up at them and watch them twinkle. The door opens, and you quickly peer back, seeing Henry walk out. Thankfully.

“Hey,” you greet him in a whisper.

He closes the door and walks to your side first before returning a greeting. “Hey.”

You look back at the sky and continue to watch the stars. “You know there’s a way to navigate around using the stars.” You share with him.

Henry hums. “I didn’t know,” he says. “Do you know how to?”

You nod and drop your gaze to look at him, noticing he was already looking at you. “Yeah, I do,” you admit.

Henry smiles and scoffs. “Of course you do.”

You laugh softly. “Well it’s kind of convient you know, very helpful..”

“Is that why you like to stare at them all the time?” He asks.

You let out a small breath and shake your head. “No. I just like to watch them, it’s fascinating really; space, all of it.”

Henry hums and averts his gaze, he grabs the rusted railing and brings a short silence.

You notice his smile faltering, so you quickly probe. “What is it?”

Henry gently hits the wood and lifts his gaze to meet yours. “Thank you,” he says. Again. “What you did back there, to that guy…” he swallows thickly and goes shy. “No one has ever done that before. You know usually when things go down like that people scatter to protect themselves…I’m guilty of that, but you…” he pauses and his eyes soften, whilst you now feel caught by surprise. “…you stuck around all three times,” Henry continues. “You shouldn't have, but you did, and you saved me and Sam. Thank you.”

Your smile widens and trembles, and your heart races inside your chest, but you grab his hand and offer him a soft look. “You were worth it,” you redirect sweetly. “All of it. And when it’s worth it there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect the ones I love.”

Henry looks caught off guard for a few seconds, but he quickly manages to shoot you a smile before he cups your cheek to pull you in for a kiss. A sweet and passionate one that makes you wrap your arms around his neck. That lets you move in sync with another, and makes you press yourself against the wall next to the door.

Henry seems to be taken back by your passion, but he just smiles and goes with it, letting himself get swept up by you. The only reason you pull back is to catch your breath.

“You know I think you were right,” he says between pants. “I think your dad—”

“Please,” you cut him off and press your finger against his lips. “Don’t talk about my dad,” you whisper and giggle. “Not right now.”

Henry snorts and nods. “Right,” he mumbles, letting you drop your hand back to your side—“but we should get some sleep, I imagine we have a long day of walking tomorrow.”

You smile sweetly and lean in to whisper against his lips. “Yeah I know, but why not stay out here a while longer, hm? Maybe find a more discreet place to go take this further.”

Henry gapes and blinks rapidly. “I,” he breathes out and shakes his head.

You grin and cup his jaw. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” you assure him. “I’m fine just being with you here.”

Henry shakes his head again and quickly throws out his response, “No I want to, I do. Do you?”

You grin softly and press your hand against his chest, feeling his heart racing.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him as you hold his gaze. “You’ll be okay. You’re with me.” You pull back, and drop your hand to your side to grab his, and pull him down the stairs with you. “Come on!” You grin happily.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“Sarah,” you whisper and slowly walk further inside her dark room.

She hums and shifts on her bed. “Hm?”

“I'm scared,” you whisper. “There’s something in my room.”

Her bed creaks and thanks to the moonlight reflecting inside through her window by her bed, you see her sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Okay,” she mumbles and slides over to the other side of her bed. “Come on.”

You smile with relief and run over to the bed to climb on and lay beside her.

“What was in your room?” She asks as she lays her head back down on the pillow.

You pull the blankets over you and flip to your side to face her. “A…monster, I think.”

She smiles weakly and wraps her arm around you. “Maybe you just heard dad snoring.” She mumbles.

You sigh unsurely and watch her close her eyes to try and drift back to sleep.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” She asks quietly.

You perk up and grin softly. “Just one,” you agree.

“Okay, well—”

“Ahh! Ahhh!”

Suddenly the dream you were having is interrupted coldly by the sound of distressed yelling that makes you gasp, and sit right up out of instinct.

However, it’s as you sit up that the door is slammed open and Ellie is thrown to the floor by….by Sam growling, groaning, and snapping his teeth as he tries to claw at her. She tries to push him off, but she can’t fight him. Or she really doesn’t want to…

But why?

Why?

Why is he acting so violent, why is he trying to bite her? Why is making those noises?

You sit there wide eyed, frozen by horrifying fear that inside, deep inside your heart you understand why it grows so furiously. You can identify what those sounds coming out of Sam mean, you’ve heard them what feels like all your life. You know…But you don’t want to accept it. You don’t want to accept his sudden fate.

He’s so young, so innocent, so sweet and kind. It can’t…it can’t be true. It can’t be happening again…

He can’t…

“Nope, nope, nope,” you hear Henry repeat, and when you look up you see him on his feet, pointing your dads own gun at him as he slowly stands up.

“Joel!” Ellie cries out.

Sam is going to bite her…he’s going to bite her…

You try to reach for your own knife since you know you’re out of bullets. You want to help her before it takes her too…you want to help your dad and Henry, but you can’t move a muscle, your fear paralyzes you as well as your denial.

You can only keep watching…just like when…Sarah died. You can only watch.

Henry shoots at your dad, you can hear the bullet, and his yell even after you cover your ears. You can feel it carve the ground, but that still doesn’t make you move.

“Joel!” Ellie cries again as Sam doesn’t stop.

He’s going to bite her. Sam he’s…

And suddenly there’s another gunshot, but this time rather than feeling it hit the ground, you hear a thump, and then silence. Deafening silence.

Finally as Sam stays still on the floor, you slowly get up and take a step towards him. You notice the dark blood spilling out and staining the ground, you still wait…You wait for him to get up. He has to. It can’t be happening again…he couldn’t have turned. He has to wake up.

You slowly put your hands down. “Sam?” You call out quietly even though you know he wouldn't have heard you either way, it’s just a desperate attempt.

“Ellie,” you hear your dad call as the girl sits there in disbelief at what just happened. “Are you okay?” You hear him ask her.

You worry if she’s bit, you want to ask if she’s okay too, but all you can focus on is Sam, you wait if he’ll move at least his chest to show he’s breathing.

Your dad tries to move toward Ellie, but he comes to a quick stop as Henry points his gun at him. He’s just shocked, that’s it.

Thinking he won’t do anything to you, you take another step towards Sam.

However, that's when you hear an abrupt stop. “No…don’t.”

You snap your gleaming eyes towards Henry, and see him pointing his gun at you now. Your dad quickly notices his new aim, and slowly puts his arm across you to try and shield you.

Henry’s just shocked. He’s just…shocked.

“Easy, easy, easy,” your dad tries to calm Henry down whilst he puts his hands out to try and grab the gun in Henry’s hand.

“Henry,” you call out quietly.

Said man's eyes drift to you, and tears immediately fill his eyes at the sight of you. “What did I do?” He asks you.

You try to tell him that he helped Ellie, that his brother was going to hurt her, but you can’t…you can’t muster a single word since you’re still in denial yourself.

“What did I do?” Henry asks again and keeps his gun pointed at you. “What-what-what did I do?” His eyes drift to his brother still on the floor, and you follow his line of gaze, realizing now—no, accepting at that moment as he lay still, as more blood spilled out of him, that Sam was gone.

It hits you like a bullet to the flesh, so suddenly. The realization shakes your entire core, making that painful anguish that you had pushed back bust through that shield of denial.

He’s gone. Sam’s gone. He was infected and now he’s gone.

“Sam?” The sound of Henry’s broken voice snaps your watery gaze back to him.

“Henry, gimme the gun?” Your dad pleads softly.

“Henry,” you call out quietly through tears. “Henry, please.”

Said man’s eyes drift to you and your dad, but he then focuses solely on you.

“Gimme the gun,” your dad continues to say. “Gimme the gun.”

“Henry,” you interject in a brittle voice, and take a step towards him to try and take the gun. “Just give me the gun, okay? Let’s talk.”

Henry holds your gaze for a moment and blinks before looking at Sam again. And finally he begins to lower his hand.

You try to encourage him, “yeah just—” but you cut yourself off immedietly as you see him move his hand to now point the gun at himself instead. You know what he intends to do, you yell at him to stop, but a gunshot goes off, causing you to quickly cover your ears. Yet you still hear a loud thump hit the floor.

Now…you just stand there, looking at the now empty space where Henry had one stood. You stand there frozen and quiet. You stand there panting, and with dry eyes.

Your dad stands before you, he talks to you, you see his mouth moving, but you don’t register his muffles that go through your covered ears because you can’t accept this now. If you keep looking at the wall, it’s like nothing ever happened. If you keep your eyes on the wall you won’t have to accept it, if you stand here time will stop….

You hoped anyway. You wished.

“Y/N! Look at me, baby,” you hear your dad yell at you, making you snap your eyes to him before you slowly drift your eyes down to see….

Oh god.

Oh god….

You drop your hands from your ears, and gasp as it feels like the air in your lungs is knocked out of you at the sight of his lifeless body, at the feeling of realization slamming into you, piercing your very heart now and shattering it and your entire being.

Henry’s gone. He’s gone just like Sam. They’re both gone….Henry’s gone….

But maybe…

“Henry?” You call out desperately as you watch him, hoping he’ll wake up. “Henry?” You call out again and step away from your dad to walk to Henry. “Henry, please,” your voice quivers as he remains unresponsive.

“Henry,” you mewl and fall on your knees beside him, on the pool of blood that now surrounds his upper body. “Henry.” You whisper and slowly reach for him to turn him face up. That’s when you see his lifeless eyes, the blood that now stains his face, and the tear stains on his cheeks. And it hits you again, but now it’s more powerful, more painful.

“No,” you cry and shake your head. “No, please Henry,” you sob and cradle his face for a moment before you cradle his body. “No, no….” You drop your forehead on his and shakily gasp for air as you can’t stop crying. “Please…please…someone help me….Henry…don’t do this to me, please.”

A hand falls on your shoulders, making you gasp and look back.

“Y/N,” your dad whispers.

“Daddy,” you mutter, “you have to help me. Please. Please.”

“Oh baby…”

You shake your head as he cradles your face in his hands.

“Dad,” you cry out desperately. “Please!”

He shakes his head, and tears fill his eyes only because he sees the heartbreak in your eyes as you hold your partner's dead body in your arms.

“He’s gone,” your dad says.

No.

No…

You pull your face away from your dads hold to look back at Henry, and lay your head on his chest.

He’s gone and there’s nothing you can do about it. Again. Someone else is gone and you can’t do anything about it. So you close your eyes and cry against him out of defeat, heartbreak, and agony.

“We can bury them,” your dad says softly. “Come on.”

Slowly he takes his body from you, and you let him, and just sit there. He takes Sam’s body soon thereafter, you can’t tell when, time just loses meaning, it all blends together.

Eventually you make it outside to where your dad and Ellie had buried Henry and Sam. You don’t know how, or when exactly you walked out, but feel the chilly breeze of the morning hit you, you feel the brightness burn your retinas for a moment until you grow accustomed to the brightness.

You see them no longer, only dirt over two unmarked graves. You feel only tears roll down your cheeks, and that agony in your heart as you realize you’ll never see them again, you won’t go to Jackson together.

You sit between their graves and just lose your gaze on the grass brushing against the wind. You sit there cold and hopeless. You sit there even as Ellie puts Sam’s board down on his grave, as you hear her speak to your dad once she’s up and behind you.

“Which ways west?” She asks.

There’s silence before there’s retreating footsteps. You were moving on, you had to, there was no one else to wait for now, there was no one else to go with now.

“Y/N,” your dad breaks the silence. “I have to tell you something…”

You keep your eyes lost on the grass, and wait for him to continue.

“Ellie…she’s immune…”

Is this some joke? Some sick fucking joke?

You gasp and peer at him over your shoulder to shoot him a disgusted glare.

“Dont,” you croak because of all of your crying. “Don’t fucking joke.”

He stands there with a serious, deadpanned look on his face. “I’m not,” he assures you. “It’s true, I saw her get bit and she didn’t turn. Do you really think I would joke about that?”

You blink in disbelief and look back at the grass ahead of you.

Joining the fireflies built a hope in you that maybe there was a chance for the world to get better. It was hard not to believe what they believed in, for a hope for humanity. A hope that could’ve saved so many lost friends…that could’ve saved Sam. So hearing this now coming out of your dads lips isn’t completely unbelievable, not to you.

“That’s why I need to take her to your uncle Tommy,” he continues. “So he can take her to the Fireflies.”

So he? He?

As if a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on you, now you’re hit with a cold reminder, your anger towards your father. Those words he just spoke trigger it, the heartbreak you bear now only fuels it, blinding you with rage.

“So what?” You scoff, and stand up to spin around and face him with that burning anger in your watery eyes. “You’re going to dump another one of your burdens on uncle Tommy? Just like you did me?”

Your dad shakes his head and mutters out, “you’re just upset. Let’s go, we can talk about it later.”

You shake your head and step towards him to continue. “I have every right to be upset! I have every right to be mad at you, you left me,” you whisper and feel angry tears now roll down your cheeks. “You…you!” You cry out and hit his chest.

“Y/N,” he mutters and averts his gaze.

You swallow back the thick lump that grows in your throat and spat back. “Why? Hm? All I ever did was love you, even if you were mean—”

“I kept you alive,” he cuts you off bluntly with his eyes barely on you.

“Yes,” you scoff. “But I still needed my dad….” Your voice quivers. “And…you still left…Why? W-was it because I…was never good enough for you? I’m sorry….I’m sorry I wasn’t the perfect daughter, I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough then. I’m sorry I wasn’t worthy enough for you to stay with me, for you to take me with you.” You sniffle and wipe away your tears. “I'm sorry I wasn't important enough for you to call me throughout all those years. I waited,“ you mumble. “I did. But no.” You shake your head and wipe your tears away.

“I just hope you don’t hurt that girl the same you did me,” you continue. “I hope she’s the daughter I never was for you.” You scoff and hit your hands against your thighs.

“No, don’t say that,” he interjects. “And don’t pit your anger against her.”

You let out a shaky sigh and tilt your head down slightly as you keep your eyes on him. “I’ll take you to uncle Tommy,” you add bluntly. “But that’s it. I’m done with you after that.” You shove past him and pick up your backpack and rifle off the floor. You make it to the street but stop to add one more thing as you see Ellie a few feet away waiting for you and your dad to catch up.

“I won’t pit my anger against her. I just hope you do better.”

——

*A MONTH LATER*

It was quiet. Not outside; you can hear the birds chirping their morning song as the sun slowly rises, you can hear Ellie shuffling on the ground restlessly. It’s quiet inside your mind.

At first, those first few days after, your mind raced with different possibilities, denial, different outcomes…hopes. It was loud with anger, but now it’s quiet. Now as you hold the cold gold sun pin in your fingers your mind is just absolutely quiet, all there is is a picture of him, Henry, in your head.

There’s a coldness in your heart. Another gap missing that he and Sam left. It makes those nights you had to sleep, sleepless, restless. Like now. Your dad let you sleep, but you couldn’t keep your eyes closed, you couldn’t get that….that scene of a month ago out of your head. Everytime you close your eyes you see Henry and Sam, see them lying on the ground with blood around them. Their deaths replay in your head over and over again until you open your eyes. So it’s easier just to stay awake and study the sun pin in the silence….

Then again it’s not so quiet outside….Ellie keeps moving. You flip to your other side and the first thing that you notice is your dad passed out…

What a damn good watchman. Old man.

Pft.

You drift your eyes across from you and see Ellie has her back turned to you. She’s still for like a minute before she moves again.

Maybe she’s thinking about them too? Because she can’t be asleep with all that moving.

You haven’t talked to her since it happened—no, lies you did but it was just like a few words, “do you want some of my food?” “Do you want to help me keep watch?”. She was always eager for both, but beside that nothing else was said. And you do know what grief is, you know how it feels, she may not have known them long, but Sam and her still bonded, their deaths were still…impactful…

It’s not like your dad has talked about it anyway. It’s not like he would.

“Hey,” you whisper and stretch your foot out to tap her. “Are you awake?”

There’s a second of silence before Ellie slowly looks back and looks a bit disbelieved. “Yes,” she mutters.

You spare one glance at your dad to make sure he’s still sleeping before you continue. “Do you want to go for a walk? He passed out.”

Ellie pulls down her sweater and looks down to see for herself before she meets your gaze and answers hesitantly. “Sure.”

You smile softly and tuck the pin in your pocket before you get up, and very carefully grab your backpack and gun off the ground. Ellie grabs her gun and leaves her backpack where it is. As you head out she just does one more double take to make sure your dad is still sleeping, before she runs over to catch up to you heading to the windmill that’s across the small abandoned farmhouse you were camping at for the night.

“So,” Ellie rolls out with a slow head nod. “Can I hold your gun?”

You hold onto your backpack strap and look over at her with slight curiosity. “Do you know how to use it?” You ask her.

Ellie shakes her head. “I can be taught though.”

You hum and look back at the windmill you're walking to and give her a proposition. “How about you can keep watch through the scope. Feel the weight first.”

“It’s better than nothing,” she groans.

You scoff softly in amusement and open the wooden door to let her walk in first, before you close the door and follow her up the creaky wooden stairs against the wall, until you reach a platform that’s put against the window that overlooks what was once a secluded farm.

“Here,” you interject, and put your gun down to sit on your knees so you can take off your poncho and lay it on the dirty ground. “You can sit there.” You then proceed to take off your jacket and lay it over your spot. “And I’ll sit here.” You mumble and sit back down.

Ellie looks down and hesitates. “We’re already dirty anyway.”

You shrug. “But now you won’t be cold, and you’ll be comfy.” You click your tongue.

Ellie spares you a quick glance before she sits, she wants to reach for your gun, but she suddenly stops and goes wide eyed.

“Oh my god,” she gasps and crawls closer to you. “You have tattoos! No way!” She grins and studies the tattoos on your arm. “That’s so cool.”

You smile softly, and turn your body so she can see the crescent moon tattoo shaped from curved lines; it almost looks like it was a smoke moon. She then hovers her fingers over the small stars that are scattered around the area, and then looks down at the falling angel woman. But lastly she takes her time on one in particular, a small one on your forearm.

“What’s this?” She asks and points to it.

You look down and giggle. “What did you think it is?”

Ellie scoffs and smirks. “A dick?”

You smirk. “It’s supposed to be a middle finger. My uncle Tommy and I got drunk for my 21st birthday. He wanted to give me a tattoo so he drew a hand giving the middle finger, but he, uh,” you snort. “Failed, so now I will always have a little dick tattoo.”

Ellie snickers and sits back down with your rifle in hand.

You move your arm and twist your body to show her the back tattoo. “I also have this one.” You point out.

Ellie shifts back around, and you give her a few seconds before you turn to sit back.

“That’s so cool!” She says with a smile. “I want one.”

You glance over the golden grass and smile softly. “My friend, she does tattoos. Perhaps when you’re older she can do something on you. Just don’t get it while drunk.”

“Why stars and a moon?” Ellie probes.

You shrug softly. “I liked it, and I like the Galaxy, the moon, everything.”

Ellie turns her head, and you see a wider smile. “Really? That's nice, I do too. Or more the aspect of going to space.”

You grin and look at her. “Really? That’d be cool. Like, uh,” you snap your fingers until you remember the name. “Like Sally Ride.”

Ellie's eyes go wider. “Yes!” She exclaims. “Exactly like her! Like if I could choose a way to die, I would die up there in space, after I flew up there of course.”

“Of course,” you mumble and stare up at the sweet colored sky as the sun slowly overtakes the night sky. “I mean it would be a very cool way to die. No oxygen, but a view of earth and the vacuum of space.”

Ellie follows your line of gaze and smiles softly as she nods slowly. “Yeah,” she whispers.

Silence follows after that. Deafening, but peaceful silence.

Yet that peace soon begins to turn to gloom the more the sun rises and you remember why you’re here.

“Do you,” you interject, but pause to look down at your fingers not covered by your gloves. “Do you want to talk about what happened last month?” You can’t even mention their names. Not yet. Not without it aching.

Ellie drops her gaze to focus on the fields of grass, and lets out a deep exhale before she shakes her head. “No…not really. Not yet.”

You hum softly. “That’s alright,” you assure her. “Well I’m here, you know, 24/7. If you want to talk.”

It may not be a lot to offer, but it’s those very words that meant a lot to you when you were told them by your uncle, Maria, or your friends. Yes, you haven’t been the most welcoming, or the nicest person with her, but at first you were slightly jealous, then you were too sad, but after that argument with your dad that jealousy had faded. Call it pettiness or what not, but you’re here now, and hope that at least she knows she can talk about her feelings with you and not have to hide them or brush them off.

He’d do that.

Nevertheless, there’s a brief moment of quiet before Ellie mutters in a serious tone. “Here in this windmill? Because that’s sort of inconvenient.”

You snort and break into a chuckle for the first time in a month. “You know what I meant fucker,” you mutter between laughs.

Ellie smiles proudly and nods.

Silence comes back as you keep watch, your smiles fade, but she soon interrupts. “You know I did have this problem last night actually.”

Your brows slowly furrow and you look at her with concern.

“I just stayed up all night wondering where the sun went…then it dawned on me.”

Your face slowly falls, and she looks over at you with a very proud smile. You let a second pass before you burst out laughing at her joke. She soon joins in and you’re both too lost laughing until your stomachs hurt.

When you’ve somewhat calmed down you add one you remember. “Okay, okay.” You clear your throat. “I walked into my sister's room and tripped on a bra…it was a booby trap.” You smirk.

Ellie shakes her head and laughs harder. “That was stupid.”

You nod and once again begin to laugh along with her, not realizing in that moment as you were both distracted that your dad was now inside the windmill lost listening in to the both of you.

When your laughs die down you take advantage of this moment and pull your backpack to your lap to unzip it, and pull out an additional Walkman. “I feel like you’ll enjoy this,” you tell her and then search your backpack for a specific cassette.

Ellie slowly puts down the rifle and watches you pull out a small plastic box.

“The Smiths,” you mention and open the box to insert the cassette. “Very good band.” You smile and hand her the Walkman. “Listen to it when you can, or when you can’t sleep. Just don’t lose the cassette ‘kay? It’s my friends.”

Ellie hesitantly takes the Walkman and headphones. “Are you sure?” She asks quietly.

You nod. “I have my own. I had that as a spare, but you can keep it. When you’re done with that album, let me know, I can give you more music to listen to while we find more.”

Ellie slowly smiles softly, and meets your gaze. “Thanks.” She whispers.

You offer her a smile, and don’t realize that for that moment sharing your music as Sarah once did with you, laughing with Ellie felt the best you’ve felt in a long time; you didn’t feel sad, or angry. You felt good, at peace, and a sense of familiarity you haven’t felt in years.

——

*2 MONTHS LATER*

Winter has fully embraced the earth, providing some sense of what month it can be. Between Kansas City and here you’ve lost track of the days. You know with every feeling in you that Jackson is only a couple days out.

Seeing Maria, your uncle Tommy, your friends, and your house is only a couple days out. Finally!

“You don’t seriously believe them,” Ellie remarks as she stomps out of the cabin of this old couple living a quiet life in the middle of nowhere.

Which honestly isn’t half bad. You only wish to grow old like them and live with….with someone…

“They’ve lived here a long time,” your dad rebuttals as he leads the way off the property. He then stops and looks back as he hears only one pair of footsteps following him.

You then proceed to stop too and glance back, catching Ellie robbing one of the rabbits that the man that had found you killed.

“Put that back,” he tells her and then continues to lead the way.

“What about you, y/n, I mean you’ve lived around here,” Ellie pulls you into the conversation.

You scoff softly and wait for her to catch up. “Well all I’ll say is that it’s a bunch of superstition, okay?” You tell her without giving away too much of what awaits beyond the River. “There’s no River of death, nothin’.”

“So they don’t know anything?” She points out and falls beside you, letting you finally continue to follow your dad. “Because they’ve also never heard of the Fireflies.”

“It’s hard to hear much living so secluded,” you explain and look ahead, catching in that moment your dad stops and leans against a wooden pole.

Is he really that scared of some fear the old couple have? Because it’s only to scare people away, it isn’t true.

Is he still tired? He’s panting.

“Joel? Joel?” Ellie calls out, and shares a slightly concerned and confused look with you before she walks over to him, while you watch him with higher concern that freezes you a bit.

“Joel, are you okay?” She asks and gets closer to him as he stays leaning against the pole. “Joel?”

“Shut up,” he quips at her.

You blink and snap out of your stupor to make your way to him too. “Dad,” you call out.

“Holy shit, are you dying?” Ellie remarks, making that fear you didn’t feel before spark now at the sound of her words, even if he shakes his head.

Is it his heart? He is old now.

What if it is his heart?

“Dad?” You call out and walk past Ellie to look at his face, noticing his eyes are closed and his hand is in a tight fist. It’s like he’s in pain…

“I’m okay,” he mutters breathlessly.

You know you haven’t talked much in the past three months, your anger is still pretty alive and heightened to the point you can’t hold his gaze sometimes for more than a few seconds. But he still is your dad, and you still do very much love him…more than anything. It’s just hard being with him right now. It’s hard.

“Okay, okay,” he keeps repeating, and you grow more concerned.

“Okay, are you okay? It doesn’t sound like you are,” Ellie keeps panicking.

“I’m fine.”

“But are you because just a reminder that if you’re dead, I’m fucked—”

“Ellie,” you warn, and step closer to him. You feel like freezing, like covering your ears at the sight of his trouble, but you muster the strength to carefully grab his arm, and call to him again. “Daddy.”

As if snapped back to reality by your touch, and your voice so close, he snaps his eyes to you and calms his breathing immediately.

“Are you okay?” You ask him.

He swallows thickly and holds your gaze for a moment before he snaps back. “I said I’m fine.”

Huh. You pull your hand away and nod. “Okay.”

“It’s just the cold air all of a sudden,” he explains what can be true, but what sounds like bullshit.

“All right,” Ellie says and continues to walk ahead. “Uh, so let’s go and find Tommy and the Fireflies.”

You linger your gaze on your dad for a few more seconds as you try to find some sort of symptom. But he did brush Ellie and you off harshly so, instead you leave him be and follow after Ellie.

“It’s gonna be easy,” Ellie adds and almost trips going up the snowy hill. “All we have to do is cross the River of Death.”

You roll your eyes at the fact that she’s believing it so easily, but still don’t try to correct anyone. Instead you comment on something to lighten the mood.

“We might have to wait to find the Fireflies.”

Ellie looks back with slight concern and presses. “Why?”

You look down at the snow you’re walking over and smirk. “Well it’s not summer yet.” You look up at her and shoot her a smile.

Ellie rolls her eyes and looks back. “That was stupid,” she remarks as she hides her amused smile.

“You liked it,” you mutter and pull on your backpack straps to tighten them. “You know it.”

“Maybe I can laugh at all your jokes if you teach me what you did back there, to that guy in Kansas City a few months ago,” she says.

She saw that?

You let out a soft sigh, and brush away what threatens to resurface about Sam and Henry to solely focus on what she wants. “Well, one, you don’t gotta pretend to like my jokes to get something out of me. You could've just asked.”

Ellie shrugs. “I ask Joel to teach me stuff and he says no,” she argues. “I thought you’d be the same.”

You scoff. “Well no, I ain't. And two, always read the room, Kathleen prided herself on loyalty, she wasn’t going to risk letting me kill the guy. I knew that so I acted,” you share your technique.

“Uh, huh,” Ellie notes everything down mentally.

“Two, body stance, look at how they’re standing, how tight their finger is on the trigger, if it’s too tight you’ll get shot at that moment,” you continue. “Three, act fast, hit the weak points to paralyze them. Men, the groin is a good one, for both men and women, throat, eyes, knees, temple, nose, jaw and shins. And then get them to the ground, or your stance of choice to threaten them. But always make sure they can’t and aren’t reaching for any weapons, okay? You’ll lose the higher ground if they do.”

Ellie looks over her shoulder, showing off her little smirk. “Okay, got that, but now what about a physical demonstration?” She asks.

You nod. “Sure, once we find somewhere to camp.”

Ellie shoots you a partial grin and nods in comprehension. “Cool.” She looks back ahead. “Your joke was stupid by the way.”

You snicker and run up to catch up to her. “Yeah. How about yours, Will Livingston, huh?”

She snickers and shrugs, bringing silence that follows the three of you for a while. You just walk, walk and walk for miles, down hills, up them, past dryer terrain and even snowier ground. Past a horizon of the setting sun, and under clear skies. All up until you reach a valley that overlooks the river the couple had mentioned on the map your dad insists on carrying even if they have you guiding the way

“The River of Death,” Ellie comments. “Scary.”

“Don’t start,“ your dad warns her bluntly.

You on the other hand watch the distant running river and sigh with relief. You’re almost home.

“It’s too close to dark,” your dad mentions. “There’s some caves along the river. We’ll set up camp there, cross in the mornin’.”

“Good,” Ellie says. “I'm starving. Should’ve stolen two rabbits.”

“We can get our own rabbits,” your dad counters.

You scoff at his comment, and see him give you a side eye.

“You gonna teach me how?” Ellie asks with hope.

Only to be shot down by your dad. “Just keep movin’.”

“Y/N?” Ellie now drifts her question to you.

You look over at her and think for a few seconds before nodding. “Sure let's just get more bullets first, or maybe a bow and arrow.”

Ellie snaps her eyes to your dad and shoots him a smirk. “See,” she quips. “Someone’s nice.” And then she proceeds to continue walking.

You scoff and roll your eyes before you also proceed to continue walking even more. Luckily this time you don’t end up walking far, your dad finds a cave somewhat deep in the woods to set up your last camp.

As always you’re all quick to eat as that’s what you’re looking forward to the most throughout the long days of walking, and avoiding danger. As always it’s quiet between you and him. He doesn’t attempt to talk to you, nor do you attempt to talk to him. Something stands in the way now, a tension…a fear that runs in the both of you.

The one thing that fills the awkward and tension filled silence is Ellie.

“Oh my god!” She exclaims and jumps off her seat to run off towards the giant rock in front of the cave.

“Ellie,” your dad mutters.

You look up from your food and see the sky beginning to glow as it fills with beautiful dancing colors of bright green, and hints of purple light. Northern lights.

You smile softly and shove the last bit of food in your mouth before you follow Ellie towards the rock to get a better view of them from the top.

“Beautiful huh? You know why they happen?” You ask Ellie as you sit beside her on the rock.

Ellie keeps her head up to continue admiring the dancing hues, and shakes her head. “Do you?” She redirects.

You hum and nod. “I read it in a book once, it happens when charged particles collide with gasses in Earth's upper atmosphere. Those collisions then produce tiny flashes that fill the sky with colorful light.”

Ellie looks down and meets your gaze. “Hm, interesting.” She says sincerely with a soft smile as she looks up again.

“There’s a lot of lore behind them, different beliefs,” you add quietly. “Some people think of them as bad omen, others as positive….what really stuck with me is this one belief I got told once by an old lady in Jackson…” you pause and slowly look down at your hands as that sadness, that grief, that agony, presents itself in you again after having pushed it away all day.

“She said that the lights are the souls of the departed…ancestors, those….” You swallow thickly and feel your eyes and throat begin to sting. “You lost.” You reach in your pocket and pull out the sun pin you kept inside, you fiddle with it and watch it reflect the lights that dance above.

“I like that one,” Ellie whispers.

You nod as your eyes fill with tears. “Me too.” You let out a deep sigh and flicker your eyes up to watch the sky again, to admire its beauty.

Ellie and you stay up there, basking in the lights and the silence until your dad whistles and cuts in. “Come down from there. Y’all gonna break your necks.”

Impossible….maybe a sore neck…

Regardless you both climb down and huddle back near the fire.

“Ah,” Ellie interjects. “Can I have some?”

You put the pin away and glance over at your dad, noticing the flask of alcohol in his hand.

“No.” He shakes his head.

“What?” Ellie argues. “Just to warm up. C’mon.”

Your dad rolls his eyes slightly but gives in, making you pass the flask to Ellie.

“Thanks,” she mutters, and looks at the metal flask for a second before raising it up as a speechless cheers.

You think she’d hesitate to take a sip, but she takes the drink without a fight.

Honestly, it’s very funny. Especially when she pulls it down and scrunches her face in disgust.

“Yep,” she groans. “Still gross.” She nudges it to you now. “Sip?”

You look at it and shake your head. “I’m fine. Thanks.” You grab the flask and hand it back to your dad.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Ellie continues to fill the silence.

“Hm?” You probe curiously, and press your hands down on the cold ground to lean back.

“Let’s say we find the Fireflies,” she says, “it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.”

“Okay?” You hear your dad say.

“Then what? Like, what do we do?”

“Oh, it’s we?” Your dad retorts, kind of rudely may you add.

“Okay,” Ellie corrects herself. “Fine. Whatever. You. You can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?”

That’s an interesting question.

You glance over at your dad and wait.

“It’s never been an option,” he answers and looks up to the sky as he clears his throat. “Maybe,” he sighs. “An old farmhouse, some land, a ranch.”

He’s said that once, when you were young, he said he was working to get one, that you could all have all the free space you wanted, you could have horses, sheep, dogs, cats and goats. He’d said that once he’s old Sarah and you could live with him to take care of him and the animals. He always liked to talk about it.

Of course that was pre outbreak. You never heard that dream after. It’s nice that it hasn’t changed.

“Cool,” Ellie comments, but you can’t tell if she’s teasing him or actually interested. “What kind?”

“Sheep. I would raise sheep.”

You glance down at the fire and smile softly.

“Sheep,” Ellie whispers.

“They’re quiet,” your dad adds, making you snort softly. “Do what they’re told.”

You stifle your laugh and glance over at Ellie since you know it’s a jab at her.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie gets it. “Okay. So, just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic.”

You smile and spare your dad one teasing glance. He feels your gaze, he sees your smile finally directed at him after three months, and sighs softly.

“What about you, y/n?” Ellie asks.

You glance at her and then watch the dancing lights in the sky. “Well when I was young I wanted to be a performer like Britney Spears.” You grin proudly.

“Who?” Ellie queries, but you don’t have time to answer since you continue.

“But now I want to become a movie star,” you smirk and look down at her. “An actress who stars in big movies. Like Halle Berry, Kate Winslet, Kristen Dunst, Uma Thurman, Winona Ryder, and my favorite, and my idol, Audrey Hepburn.” You beam at her and nod slowly.

Ellie squints and shakes her head. “I’ve heard of none of them.”

“You will soon enough, and you’ll know my name as well. Y/N Miller,” you throw your hands up in the air and glance at your dad with that grin, noticing him listening with intent and the corner of his lips slightly raised. “Famous movie star. Survivalist. And the most talented and prettiest.”

Ellie snorts and nods along again. “I actually think that’s pretty cool. I mean you’ll probably be the only one, but it’s nice.”

“Thank you,” you beam at her and put your hands down. “I won’t forget to mention you in my speech when I win my Oscar.” You wink and then press her now. “What about you? Where are you gonna go?”

Ellie gently punches her legs and looks up. “It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean, and ahead of you, there’s a wall.” She looks down between you and your dad. “Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?”

Yes.

“Sally Ride,” your dad guesses correctly.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride!” She whispers excitedly. “Best astronaut name ever.”

You smile softly and in admiration. Silence follows, and her own smile fades, her gaze gets lost ahead of her, and you sense sorrow.

“It’ll work, right?” She then asks, making your smile fall. “The vaccine?”

You sigh and sit up to drag your legs against your chest, and hug them tightly.

“It’s a little late to start wonderin’” your dad retorts.

“I tried,” she says. “With Sam.”

Your frown immediately deepens, and your heart begins to sink.

“Tried what?” Your dad probes.

“I knew he was infected,” Ellie answers, and you see her glance at you. “I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know. I know it was stupid. But I…I wanted to save him.”

Your eyes water again, that anguish crawls back up, and memories haunt you.

“Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that,” your dad tells her. “Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.”

They hope….you hope too.

For him. For Sam.

After that silence returns, which is abruptly interrupted. “Who wants to take first watch and second watch?” Ellie asks to change the subject.

You part your lips to volunteer, but your dad quickly interrupts before you can.

“I’ll do both. you girls should get some sleep.”

You snap your eyes to him and get ready to argue, but once again he beats you to it.

“Y/N, it’s okay, I can do it. Tomorrow we’ll be with Tommy, and I can sleep then.”

You hesitate for a moment but you know you’ll get nowhere, so you give in.

“Dream of sheep ranches on the moon,” he adds as you and Ellie grab your sleeping bags.

“I will,” Ellie agrees. And you just scoff softly and leave it at that.

——

Sleep comes, but you don’t last long, eventually the nightmares take over; the same ones from the past three months, and all you can do is stay up to avoid seeing all of it. It would make a boring and long night, but you find yourself entertained by watching your dad.

He sits against the cave wall, he watches the sky, he watches the dark shadows in the forest, and occasionally he glances over to watch you and Ellie sleep. He seems to be looking for something, a sign of life. Once he finds it he’d look away and go back to keeping watch. That’s when your head spins and you begin to wonder why he left you?

What was his reason? Grief?

Because you feel it, you understand it. Perhaps not before, not the moment you lost Sarah, but after losing Henry?

That need to just go away, to cave into yourself, to hide and never come out? To…not keep going, to just end it as it seems like life has little meaning? You understand that. You want to do it everyday. Is that why?

Or was it fear? Just cause?

Did you do something wrong?

Or were you not enough? Were you not…her?

If you could, you'd bring her back to him. If somehow there was a chance, you would. You’d bring back Sam and Henry. Even if it meant you’d be gone forever, you’d do it.

If seeing Sarah again would make him happy you’d do it. Anger and resentment aside, you’d do it….

Nevertheless…as you’re caught up in your own thoughts, he ends up passing out.

What an old man.

To keep him that way so he can get the rest he needs you get up and keep watch for him. Ellie soon joins you and you let sleep as you both keep watch while the sun rises again, and the day turns bright.

During your watch you taught Ellie the move she wanted to learn; which she learns fast and gets very happy about. You talked about stupid stuff, and then watched some more until he woke up abruptly.

“Still mumbling in your sleep,” Ellie comments as he looks up panicked. “We woke up early. You were passed out, so we took second watch.”

“Y/N,” your dad scolds you.

You just shrug and brush him off.

“You gotta wake me up if that happens,” he rebuttals and gets up. “You can’t do things like this, Ellie.”

“But I can,” she counters sassily. “‘Cause I just did. Besides, y/n was with me the entire time.”

“She’s older, she knows stuff,” he quickly snaps back. “She’s not responsible for you, I am, okay?”

“Then don’t fall asleep,” she sasses him. “We were quiet, We checked our six, we looked for tracks, we found the high ground, and we kept watch,” she assures him as he gets near. “like you and she taught me too. And y/n let me hold the gun the entire time.” She quips and shares a proud glance with you. “What can I say, man? I'm a natural.”

“Uh-huh,” he nods. “Give her the gun.”

Ellie sighs and turns to hand you back your gun. You then proceed to hang it around your shoulder, and listen to him direct her a comment.

“You wake me up next time.”

“Yes, sir,” Ellie agrees. “But only if y/n is not here.” She shoots him a smile.

Your dad rolls his eyes and groans. “Fine,” he says in defeat. “C’mon pack up, let’s get goin’.”

As usual the day consists of endless fucking walking which was getting more annoying the closer you were to home. It’s like a fucking dread. And today it seemed colder out—but that’s probably due to the falling snow and the winder winds.

Once you assure Ellie and your dad that River is safe to cross, you make it to the other side and put your mask up over half of your face, you put your hood over your head to block out the cold and keep as warm as you can.

The closer you got home, the more the grounds seemed familiar, the more your excitement rose. That becomes especially so as you get close to the dam.

“We’re almost there,” you squeal. “We’re almost home.” You quicken your pace, but look back as you the sound of Ellie blowing out air catches your attention. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I’m learning how to whistle,” she explains as she catches both you and your dad looking back at her now.

“You don’t know how to whistle?” Your dad queries.

Ellie pulls her hand out of her mouth to rebuttal. “Does it sound like I know how to whistle?”

“No,” you retort and look back ahead. “Just put your lips together and blow.

“I’ve tried that! It doesn’t work!”

You smirk and do it yourself before you look back at her to do it again.

Ellie shoots you a pointed glare and drops her hand to her side. “Well now you're just showing off,” she spats. “No one likes a show off.”

You smirk and counter. “Everyone likes me, so I guess it’s wrong.”

Ellie scoffs. “Have you ever heard of the word humble? Won’t hurt to know its definition.”

You grin and look ahead. “I do know it actually.” You whistle one more to piss her off.

This time she doesn’t retort back, instead you suddenly feel a snowball hit your back.

“Hey!” You exclaim and look back.

Ellie shoots you a smirk. “Show off,” she quips without shame.

You let out a small huff and stop walking to bend down and make a snowball. Ellie knows what you’re going to do and begins to walk back with a grin.

“Don’t,” she laughs and puts her hand out.

“Whistle,” you say. “And I won’t throw it. Oh wait,” you snicker. “You can’t.”

Ellie quickly bends down and collects a snowball, causing you guys to stay at a standstill to wait who’d throw it first.

“Throw it and I’ll push you in,” she threatens.

You begin to walk back and taunt her again with a whistle.

“Fucker!” Ellie runs and throws it, but you manage to turn out of the way, and it ends up hitting the back of your dads legs.

Ellie’s eyes go wide, and you and her stifle your laughs as he stops and looks back.

“It was me,” she admits with a smirk, and you let your snowball fall, and snicker.

Your dad looks between the two of you, he lets his gaze linger without saying anything. And when he does break his gaze away it’s to glance down at his wrist for a second before he lifts his eyes and lets out a deep annoyed sigh. “Enough foolin’ around, let’s go.” He grumbles and turns to continue on ahead, causing you guys to follow after him now.

“You guys should teach me how to hunt. Like, seriously,” Ellie says.

“Huh,” your dad breathes out.

“Huh,” Ellie mocks. “Like she’s a girl. she can’t handle it.”

“You can handle the shootin’” you assure her.

“Not so sure about the dressin’?” Your dad adds on to your comment.

“What’s the dressin’?” Ellie asks.

You look over at her and explain it to her. “It’s when you take the guts out.”

Ellie nods as she falls behind. “Oh, yeah. Why do they call it dressing? It’s like, you should call it undressing ‘cause it is. It’s like undressing from the inside.”

You hum in agreement and think about it now too.

“Still interested, though.” Ellie adds.

“I told you,” you tell her and grin as you see glimpses of the dam coming up. “Let’s just get more bullets, and we can do it.” You then run up ahead and stop at the top of the hill that overlooks the running water that goes through the dam.

Ellie and your dad catch up, and Ellie of course adds something to specialize the moment. “Dam.”

You and your dad share a judgmental gaze before he retorts for you. “You’re no Will Livingston.”

“Yeah, yeah, but who is?” She rebuttals. “So that made electricity?”

“Yeah,” your dad answers her. “Don’t ask me. I don’t have a clue.”

You smile wider and linger in your spot for a moment before you continue walking.

“You know, you could’ve just made something up,” Ellie interjects as they both follow you now whilst you try hard not to just run home out of pure joy. “I would’ve believed you.”

“You know,” you add on as you walk down, past the dam. “The dam still provides electricity. I’ve been told how, but I forgot, but there is light in Jackson, trust me.”

“Huh,” Ellie huffs out. “Well we're almost there aren’t we? We’ll see.”

“Yeah.” You mutter. “We will.”

Once you make it down you each step makes your heart beat pick up, each other footstep makes you wary since you know that the rangers out on pontrol should probably be approaching. It’s rare that they’d miss spotting the three of you.

“Look at that River,” Ellie points out. “It’s crazy blue. Hey, Joel, what if this is the River of Death?”

You hear him stop, so you stop even with your anticipation to get home, and wait for them. You watch him pull out his map to check what you’ve already pointed out.

“We’re close,” you break the silence. “Let’s go.”

As you take a few steps ahead, you come to a quick halt as the sound of horses neighing, their running footsteps steal your attention.

Your dad takes Ellie’s hand and tries to run away, while you stay in place and watch multiple people surround you, stopping Ellie and your dad right by you.

“Get behind me,” you hear your dad tell Ellie, before he grabs your hand and tries to pull you behind him too.

However, you slip your hand away and step forward again. You’re not scared, you recognize this tactic, you know the protocol, you know it’s them.

“We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble,” your dad interjects to try to ease the tension. “We’re just passin’ through.”

You glance around at all of them, all the faces of the people that surround the three of you. Since they all have hats, and masks over their faces it’s hard to identify who’s who. You doubt much has changed as far as routines go, maybe some people have been added here and there, but it should be the same otherwise. They might recognize you and ease the tension.

Albeit just as you lower your hand to take off your mask all guns point at you

“Keep your hands up!” The man at front yells.

“Yes,” you mutter and search the crowd again for Maria, she usually likes to patrol at the gate.

Behind you a dog begins to whine; maybe it’s the alert dog…fuck that’s right. Fuck.

“Drop the guns!” The man yells again.

You snap your gaze to your dad and give him an assuring nod before you both pull your guns off your shoulders, and place them on the ground. When you’re lifting your arms again is when you reach for your mask and pull it off, you then lift your hand further and pull off your hood, finally revealing your face to those ahead of you.

Again you search the crowd and behind the man you spot her, Maria. Her eyes land on you too and you see her ease her shoulders.

The man ahead lowers his gun slightly and squints his gaze slightly. “Holy shit,” he mutters. “The child protege returns.” He scoffs and glances back, you follow his line of gaze and see Maria getting off her horse, she lowers her mask and her eyes soften—“welcome home, Sunny.”

You smile with relief, and offer him a nod.

“You’re gonna have to stay there girl,” he adds. “You know the rules.”

You nod and look at Ellie and your dad. “It’s okay,” you mutter and keep your hands at your side.

“You been near infected?” He asks.

You shake your head and try to answer, but your dad beats you to it.

“There’s no infected out here.”

“The hell there ain’t,” the guy spats back and whistles, making a dog from ahead of you bark as he’s brought over.

Then who’s whining behind you?

“Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it and he will rip you up.”

You swallow thickly and glance over at Ellie.

Usually the dog only detects active cordyceps, hers is…dormant considering it hasn’t spread? Or is it active?

Fuck.

The dog is let go from its leash and he first begins to walk to your dad. He first smells him to make sure, and once he smells nothing he jumps up and gives the all clear. After that the dog walks over to you, he smells your feet and your legs, before jumps on you and gives you the all clear.

“Good boy,” you coo at him and scratch him behind the ears.

The dog happily wags his tail before getting on all fours to walk back to his handler.

“Like I said, we’ll just move on,” your dad interjects. But it’s not that easy, they still need to make sure Ellie is clear. You can’t move otherwise, not even to greet Maria that is itching to meet up with you as much as you are to meet up with her.

“Now her,” they point to Ellie.

Your heart begins to race, and your mind begins to race faster. The dog begins to growl as he creeps towards her, so you look at your dad to see what he’d do, but you see that he’s frozen…he’s…frozen.

He must truly care about her….

Fuck.

You step back and face Ellie, and she looks over at you at that moment too to express her concern since your dad wouldn’t turn to face her.

“It's okay,” you mouth to her as the dog gets closer. “It’s okay.” You discreetly reach your fingers for your holstered gun. If the dog does detect the cordyceps then you’ll have to…wound it so he doesn’t hurt her, they’ll all probably hate you for it, but you can’t let her die.

The dog gets closer, he smells her for a few seconds before he looks up at her. You hold your breath and clench your jaw.

Ellie glances at you again, and you step forward, but the dog then barks and jumps on her, giving the all clear, and letting you relax and exhale deeply.

“Hi,” Ellie giggles and crouches down to pet the dog and let him lick her. “Hi!”

Now that he isn’t going to kill her, you look at the guy for the okay.

He catches you and points to Maria with his eyes. You immediately beam as your eyes begin to sting, and don’t wait a moment longer to break into a run towards her, meeting her halfway.

“Oh god,” she whispers as she throws her arms around you. “You’re here. You’ve been gone too long.”

You nod and ball up the material of her jacket in your fists as you nuzzle your head against her shoulder.

“I’m home,” your voice quivers, forgetting those you came with as you’re basked by the joy, and warmth of being in her arms again. It’s why you miss the curious stare of your dad, the confusion that grows within him, whilst Ellie begins to feel a spark of something deep within her, something she hasn’t felt about you before, jealousy…not for what you might have with Maria, but over how she holds you and what it can mean.

Sure at first she was slightly jealous of you, of how your father showed you affection, but that soon disappeared, quickly actually; the moment she saw you take down that man. And now after 3 months, after witnessing what happened 3 months ago together. After 2 months of you teaching her things she didn't know, things she wanted to know, now after having someone to talk to, someone to laugh with. Now after finally having another woman to bond with her instead of just your dad. After having no one but you and your dad, she’s grown quite attached to you too.

She knew you were heading home to your family, but something in her hoped you wouldn't be so overjoyed, she didn’t want you to stay with them. She wanted just you, your dad, and her. Even if she noticed how you and your dad barely even talked at the moment.

“You’re never leaving,” Maria says and rests her chin on your head. “You understand that?”

You laugh and nod. “Not plannin’ to.”

Maria tightens her hold around you for one more lingering second before she pulls back to grab your shoulders and look at you in the face, to see the happy tears that roll down your cheeks.

“Tommy is going to freak out,” she says with a happy smile. “I was so worried,” she sighs and caresses your cheeks as she looks deep into your eyes.

You try to hide it well, the sadness brought by your still very much active grief, but can she tell in this small interaction?

“I’m home now,” you assure her. “I’m okay.”

“Are you?” She asks.

You nod and offer her a brighter smile. “I…am.”

She hums, and caresses your chin once more before letting you go, and letting you turn to introduce who you’re here with now that you remember that you’re still surrounded. But before you can, a big red bloodhound comes running at you and tackles you to the ground with all its force to start licking you, and whining out of joy.

“Hey!” You hear Ellie exclaim with concern.

“Ahh,” you groan and keep tilting your head away so you wouldn’t be licked in your mouth. “That’s a good boy, Achilles,” you tell him. “I missed you too man, but you’re heavy.”

“Maybe he’ll help you get cleaned up,” you hear someone say as they approach you. “Achilles, get off her man.”

The dog does as he’s told, letting someone else come to view as they stand above you now, blocking the natural bright light that almost blinds you, but shines around his head like he’s some majestic being.

“Fuck,” he gasps and throws his hand out to offer it to you.

As if it can be possible you grin brighter at the sight of his familiar soft brown eyes that gleam with happiness, and his beaming smile that spreads on his square jaw. You take his hand and let him help you off the ground, you stay there in front of each of other for a lingering moment just staring at one another with longing that comes rushing back at you—you also notice he doesn’t seem to aged much, he looks pretty much the same, except for his hair, it’s longer, fluffier, and no longer shaven.

It looks good that way. It’s nice to see him again. seeing your best friend since you joined the fireflies years ago brings even more ease to your wounded heart. It makes you excited, so much so that you squeal before you throw your arms around his neck.

“Jesus,” he mutters as he holds onto you. “I knew you’d make it.” He nuzzles his head against your shoulder, and you close your eyes to nuzzle your face against him.

“I’m finally home,” you whisper as if you can’t believe it.

He hums and begins to rub your back, he lets you bask in his embrace until you’re the one that wants to let go.

“You grew out your hair,” you point out with a smile and brush back the ends of his hair. “I like it.”

You begin to turn to face your dad and Ellie, but he turns with you to keep holding your gaze with a soft look that matches yours.

“Yeah,” he scoffs and grows cocky. “I knew you were coming, so I was like, I’m going to grow it for her since I know she likes it that way.”

You roll your eyes, but keep your smile as you walk past him to face your dad and Ellie now.

“They’re okay,” you assure the group. “They’re with me. That man is,” you exhale and share a glance with Maria. “My dad, Joel, the girl is Ellie.”

Slowly they both put their hands down, but the guns remain pointed.

“You vouch for them?” The guy asks you.

You glance at him and meet his gaze to nod. “Yep.”

The guy nods in comprehension and lowers his gun, letting the others do the same.

“Let’s get them on some horses and get them inside,” the guy instructs.

You glance at Ellie and your dad once before you turn on your heels to follow Maria.

“That’s your dad?” Apollo asks quietly beside you as he makes his horse, and his dog Achilles follows him as you all head home. “Are you gonna present me or what?”

“Shut up, Apollo,” you snap back and nudge him.

Apollo laughs and looks back. “I kinda see it between him and Tommy.”

You giggle. “Well they are brothers. You and Atlas look alike for that same reason.”

“You and your sister didn't look alike,” Apollo quickly rebuttals.

You huff out. “‘Cause we were half sisters, duh, do you want it explained to you how that works? Mama,” you look at Maria up on her horse now. “You want to explain to Apollo how that works.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Apollo retorts and nudges you.

You giggle, and notice Maria smirk.

Not so long after that Ellie, your dad, and you are whisked to some horses, finally being able to rest your feet and not have to walk the rest of the way to Jackson. You come to recognize most of the rangers who had given you that cold welcome, and greet all those you knew and that knew you.

You weren’t inside the walls yet, you haven’t seen your uncle yet, but you did feel more safe now, more comforted now that you aren’t out in the open. Now that you’re only minutes from home.

“I can’t wait to share the hell I’ve been through these past two years,” you interject on your way home. “You guys won’t fucking believe it.”

Apollo glances over at you and narrows his gaze to quip. “Maybe.” He licks his lips and looks serious. “You should tell it in the form of a play, hm?”

He’s making fun of you, funny.

“Yeah,” you go along with him. “The adventures of y/n Miller, one woman show, the musical.” You smirk and bounce your eyebrows.

“Who would play you?” He counters. “‘Cause,” he says and sucks in air through his teeth. “I hate to break it to you, but singing isn’t for you, you can play the guitar, but it’s singing that just….” He shakes his head.

You drop your jaw, peel your eyes wide as if suddenly hit with excitement, and snap your fingers to share your thought. “I have the best idea. Maybe…your mom can do it?”

Apollo goes serious, and you stifle your laugh as you grin at him.

“Can I get a bump?” You tease him and stick your fist out at your other side to offer Ellie a fistbump since she’s riding beside you.

Ellie’s confused at first, but she doesn’t leave you hanging. Apollo shakes his head with a frown, so you now offer him your fist.

“Come on,” you encourage him. “Don’t leave me hanging, it was funny.” You giggle.

Apollo rolls his eyes but very lightly hits your fist. “Only because you’re back,” he mutters.

You shrug sweetly and shoot him a sweet smile.

“It was a lame joke,” Ellie mutters.

You roll your eyes to her and sigh. “Well, I think it works,” you assure yourself. “It was good at the moment.” You flash her a smile.

Jackson isn’t far now, you all make it there quickly by horse. That wooden wall comes to view soon, and after being gone for so long, it’s such a heavenly sight. What once felt like a trapdoor, what once felt like a cage is now nothing but paradise. Walking in was such a fucking relief too. There was instant comfort in all the buildings, some that have had some tweaks and others that remain the same.

“Welcome back home,” Maria tells you as the gates close behind you.

You shoot her a smile and continue to look around at all the people, and then focus on the Christmas decorations, letting you know come up to date with what month it was; December! It’s almost Christmas!

Yet, even as happy as you feel, there’s a sadness that stabs your heart, that reminds you of that pain…

Henry and Sam should be here. They should’ve made it this far, they should’ve seen all this. You promised them…

“Y/N?!”

You snap away from your thoughts and look behind you where the call had come from, that’s when you see another familiar face, a close friend from your firefly days, and Apollo’s younger brother.

You turn your frown the other way around so they won’t worry. “Atlas!” You call out and climb off the horse, letting the man behind you take it for you.

“I knew it was you!” Atlas exclaims as you both run to meet halfway in an embrace. “Holy fuck!” He chuckles. “Fuck! I thought you were dead!”

You laugh softly and pat his back. “I made it, like I said I would.”

He smiles and caresses the back of your neck with his soft hands. “We missed you. Home wasn’t the same without you.”

You pull back and offer him a happy smile. “You haven’t aged,” you point out.

“Nah,” he winks. “Just got more handsome.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust and pull away from him completely.

Atlas smirks and glances at the pair you came in with as they walk away further in town. “You’ve brought company.”

You nod and turn to walk after them now, seeing Apollo approach on foot. “Yeah, that’s my dad,” you let Atlas know.

Atlas snaps his head to you and furrows his thick dark eyebrows. “No fucking way. Like, your dad, dad?”

Why are they so in disbelief that he’s your dad? Is there something you’re missing?

“Yeah.” You nod and scoff. “Him.” You let out a sigh and watch Apollo fall by your other side now. “I’ve got a question,” you abruptly change the subject as curiosity grows. “Are you still with redhead Jessica?”

Atlas begins to snicker, but Apollo answers before his brother can blurt the news.

“We broke up.”

You perk up instantly.

“Yeah,” Atlas bounces off his brother's announcement. “She cheated on him.” He smirks.

What a relief…not the cheating part.

Well…kinda…

“Yeah,” Apollo sighs as he shoots his brother a glare. “It happened like a year ago.”

You smile and let him see it. “Bad news, told ya.”

“Whatever,” Apollo retorts.

“Atlas! You rangle up stragglers?!” You hear a woman shout.

Apollo and you snap your heads to the side, seeing Atlas spin around to walk backwards so he can look at the young girls that had spoken to him.

“Yep!” Atlas lies. “Bad ones too! I spotted them myself, kept them from getting shot.”

You and Apollo share an amused and judgemental look before continuing to watch Atlas, noticing at that moment a pile of shit that one of the horses dropped just now; and Atlas was walking right towards it.

“A thousand that he steps in it,” you offer Apollo.

Your friend scoffs and shakes his head. “No need, he’s going to step in it.”

You both snicker and watch Atlas continue to walk back.

“Let’s meet later while everyone is at the movies, I’ll tell you all about it, and my recent patrol!”

The girls giggle and nod. “Let’s do it!” One of the girls accepts.

Atlas shoots them a wink, and as he does he runs into the pile of hot horse shit.

Without looking, as if you hadn’t ever left, Apollo and you share a proud highfive at his brother's carelessness.

“Oh man!” Atlas exclaims. “What the hell?!”

“Y/N?!” Someone yells, this one more familiar and soothing than before.

You snap your eyes ahead, and there in the middle of the crowd that had greeted you outside the gates, beside your dad, is your uncle Tommy.

“Uncle Tommy!” You call back with instant tears filling your eyes as you’re slammed with unmeasurable relief, more bliss than you’ve felt since you saw your dad for the first time.

Your uncle Tommy smiles softly and without hesitation, before wasting another second you both break through barriers of space to collide, to throw your arms around one another and hold each other.

“Oh, babygirl,” he whispers as he caresses your back, and holds you in his arms tightly as if he would lose you if his hold was too loose.

“Uncle Tommy,” you cry after not being able to hold it any longer.

“Oh,” he breathes out. “My sweet Sunny.”

As you held him, as you cried into his shoulder, you felt finally home, secured. This was home. Him. Uncle Tommy. For so long he was all you had after your dad left, for so long even when your dad was there he was the light that didn’t flicker away. He was the hope you almost lost. He was home, just as much as you were his.

Yes, as you hugged him, as you held him close you did notice the faint look of hurt in your dads eyes as he saw the interaction, it hurt you seeing it. But isn’t this what he wanted when he left you? When he drove you away? When you weren’t enough for him?

When you weren’t enough for him to stay and be your dad?

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @traceylader @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @dgraysonss @rana030 @punisherinthealps @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201@maeneedsabreak@maelartasch@adristyles@daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @ririvilliams @khaylin27

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utilitycaster · 3 months

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The thing I've realized, in the broader Actual Play space, is that a lot of creators are trying to turn Actual Play shows into TV shows.

You mentioned Kollok in your tags, and the creator of that has mentioned creating Kollok in a way to try to appeal to the Netflix audience.

And I'm all for experimentation, but tbh if I wanted to watch a TV show, I would go watch a TV show. That's not what I'm looking for in an Actual Play and over editing and gimmicks actively turn me off from it.

Folks creating Actual Play seem to put a lot of weight on it, but I don't know if it's that important from an audience perspective.

Hey anon,

Huge same - I've been thinking about this for a while, especially in regards to choices I didn't like (notably on D20, though the Candela split screen in chapter 3, while relatively minor, felt like part of the same trend and I'm really interested in seeing whether they keep it). I actually did mean to write more about this not in the tags of a reblog, so thanks for this ask because it gives me that motivation to do it!

Earlier this year I was at an event and someone who to be totally honest I found kind of annoying was talking about Dimension 20, and I decided to keep quiet and listen to what other people had to say, and another person (whom I respect and specifically know to be like, left-leaning and inclusive and not gatekeeper dudebro type, which is relevant to the next statement) who is solidly in Gen X and has been playing D&D since at least 2e mentioned that he doesn't like Actual Play at all because he is from the era where D&D was frequently played in third person and is somewhat of a purist in that sense. Ie, this guy would say "Gawain pulls out his sword and smites the dragon, with a 24 to hit", rather than "I'm going to pull out my sword and smite the dragon." He described his idea of D&D as being very much collaborative storytelling in the sense of a bunch of third person narrators who happen to be the storytellers for one specific character, not a first-person acted scene.

I happen to like both forms of narration and am not a purist either way, and indeed use both third person and first person myself as a player (as do many actual players; you see this on CR and D20 all the time). But I think this does show just how broad this spectrum is. You have people all the way on the "I am narrating an improvised story, I am the storyteller puppeting my character and I am not trying to be immersed" side and then you have shows that are trying to push this into full immersion...but so long as you have dice rolls, you'll never achieve it.

I prefer something in between: I do love watching people act, but I really like the gears and wires! I love mechanics! I think people who say "I love actual play D&D but I don't really care for combat, only RP" don't actually like actual play D&D! This is a specific format and I do not want people to hide the fact that they are using the rules of a game and are at a table, because they are and we know it.

This came up when I and others talked about the Legend of Vox Machina adaptation: they're probably going to have to find a way to convey the same tragedy and gravity of Scanlan's ninth level counterspell that doesn't require viewers to know the mechanics, because if you watch that scene as actual play the meaning of Sam saying "Nine" is immediately apparent. It hits hard with that one single word, but that won't be the case in an animated adaptation where no one is rolling a D20. Mechanics are in intrinsic part of actual play. You can enjoy actual play without that knowledge, but a solid grounding in those mechanics will only enhance that enjoyment (well, unless you're one of those rules-lawyery weirdos who gets bitter about any GM rule of cool/homebrew that they couldn't predict from the rulebooks but those people will never be happy).

The more general context of "being in a game", not just mechanics, is also in my opinion valuable. Brennan, on a Worlds Beyond Number fireside chat, referred to certain NPCs like Caramelinda as "furious that they are in a D&D game" and it's a funny and true statement. I feel like trying to push actual play into the realm of scripted shows is that: it feels like you're trying to hide the origins, and I think the quality of the show will ultimately suffer when you do that. It feels almost ashamed of what it is, and I don't think you can make something that transforms a medium/genre/thing in between the two without having a profound love and respect for the original, even if you also find it flawed. (This is also, tbh, how I feel about a lot of attempts to divorce D&D from the fact that it is ultimately a game influenced heavily by sword-and-sorcery fantasy, or about attempts to turn high or heroic fantasy into something that neatly affirms all of one's 2024 real world political beliefs, but that's another post).

I also think that the out-of-character element of actual play is a big draw. I have been open about having complicated feelings about the parasocial and projection aspects; but those feelings are "hey, this is still a show that is a source of livelihood, you are not hanging out in someone's living room and getting weird about the fact that the CR cast no longer responds to every tweet is dumb" and "you have not been betrayed by the creators because you didn't get the plot you wanted," and "the fact that two actors sit next to each other is not, in fact, a solid basis for shipping." I am equally opposed to the idea of "the actors do not exist, only the characters do," put forward in that attempt to make actual play Netflix-ready. It's fun to watch the CR cast rib Travis for turning bright red for, as people said, pretend kissing his real wife. It's fun to watch the Intrepid Heroes heckle Brennan when he plays a villain. It's fun to hear Aabria and Erika scream at WBN plot developments and for the McElroys or the NADDPod crew to wheeze with laughter and all of these shows but CR are to a degree edited, and all leave that element in, which I think says something really important about what actual play is understood to be!

It does not escape me that the seasons/shows using heavier camera edits have often, in my opinion, sacrificed story quality for a visual style I don't even care for. I do watch prestige television, and one of the more striking cinematographic choices I've seen lately are the extremely long single take shots used on both Succession's final season (Connor's Wedding, 4x03) and The Bear's first season (Review, 1x07). Prestige TV is not doing the glitchy Neverafter stuff. Hell, I liked Sagas of Sundry: Dread and never finished Madness before it went offline and haven't made an effort to seek it out specifically because the black box theater feel of Dread felt fun and new but not too removed from actual play vibes, whereas the higher production values of Madness, ironically, made it feel too artificial and stilted to keep my interest.

Actual play is its own beast, and in trying to appeal to a new audience you're probably going to lose a lot of the one you have. A big part of why I haven't been motivated to check out Kollok is that everything I hear about it, even positive reviews, makes it sound like it's missing the things I like from actual play and doesn't achieve the level of scripted shows. Honestly I think the REAL answer here is that if you want to find a space between a Netflix drama and an Actual Play show, ditch the rules and make stuff like Midst, which is as discussed inspired by ttrpg/actual play spaces, but is broadly plotted out in advance. I think that approach can combine the best of both worlds, whereas I feel as though attempting to be a Netflix show will usually spend so much time trying to hide the fact that there's a table there that it will detract from the actual story.

#answered #Anonymous #i should probably watch an ep of kollok before passing full judgment #but like...god. everything i hear about it makes me go oh god they massacred my boy #long post #on actual play

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marzipanandminutiae · 1 month

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i just reblogged that post about saying nice things abt prev but i wanna send an ask too, so: thank you for being one of the only people to be correct about the winchester mystery house and sarah herself!! so many people spread the stories of her being weird/crazy/whatever when she was just. a woman who suffered some tragedies and liked architecture.

i went on a tour of graceland recently and was intrigued by how they barely talked about elvis as a person, whereas winchester tours are basically a trap where you think you're getting to explore a weird fucked up house but actually you're going to hear about how wonderful sarah winchester was for an hour and if you say anything mean about her design skills one of the tour guides will push you out the door to nowhere.

i go through your winchester tag sometimes when i'm nostalgic and missing the house (i got laid off during quarantine) and it's just nice to see that even people who didn't devote years of their lives to the house can genuinely understand and appreciate it.

I'm so glad it's gotten better! Someone once anonymously told me the guides had to sign a contract saying they would only stick to the story made up by that ridiculous carnie family that bought her house in the 1920s, and even though it was an anon and therefore unverifiable...I believe it, sadly. For Profits often are more about...well, profit. As opposed to history. But it's good to know the guides care about getting the truth out there.

In Sarah Winchester I see a woman whose character assassination for being different(tm) has carried on after death. It's not that she was perfect- far be it from me to lay perfection at the feet of a white 19th-century gun fortune heiress -but she seems like a genuinely caring person in many ways, about her workers and her community. She was an unattached woman of means with an unconventional hobby (architecture), though, and that seems to have made wagging tongues nervous. During her lifetime that meant claiming she thought she'd live forever if construction never ceased (it did, several times), and after- well. The tale of the mad widow fleeing from invisible ghosts has come to prevail.

It feels unfair to me that she should forever be remembered by what her detractors said about her, instead of her own triumphs and setbacks, merits and flaws. And that her beautiful house, where she poured so much love and attention, should be so misrepresented. I'm glad people are trying to fix the narrative.

#sarah winchester #ask #winchester mystery house #lakesandquarries #spoiler alert for those who didn't know: she was NOT trying to hide from ghosts of Winchester rifle victims #she was just passionate about architecture and had the money to make that her Hobby #it's widely believed among historians that the 'doors and stairs to nowhere' are remnants of house sections destroyed in the #1906 earthquake and never rebuilt #the 'seance room' I've been told is just an attic storage room converted after her death- she would have held seances in the parlor #with tea to follow #like a normal Victorian

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lovelyjasmari · 8 days

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Sweet Dreams for a Fair Queen aka VIL GET BEHIND ME

Hello everyone!

Currently, I’m still working on my addendum to my pomefiore arc analysis with the new content from the most recent JP update. I’m still waiting for all the translations to come in but I’m hoping to have it done by Monday or Tuesday. Honestly, I found that there is SO MUCH going on in this most recent update both good and bad. Too much to include in this addendum. Hence this separate post.

Ironically, while my analysis was mainly focused on Vil and how he sees himself, the one thing from the most recent update that really needed a separate post was Vil himself. In this most recent update, we see the dreams of Vil, Epel, and Rook. I might talk about Epel’s later, and I’m saving Rook's for the addendum. But Vil’s…my god…SO MUCH to unpack, and unfortunately, none of it is good.

I don’t know if Yana was hit with a crowbar and developed amnesia while writing, or if she realized she did too good a job portraying the tragedy of Vil’s arc and had to backpedal, or if Disney took issue with Vil being too sympathetic because this is still a game based on villains. Either way, the way Vil is portrayed in his dream is SUCH a departure from his actual personality and morals that it bordered like a parody. His cruelty to Neige, how he spoke to Yuu and the others, and his generally conceded personality might be how a good deal of the fandom sees him, but this was NOT the true Vil Scheonheit we have come to know over the last four years.

Unfortunately, Vil’s dream seems to have done even more damage to how this fucking fandom views him. I’ve seen many posts here and on the bird app saying how Vil’s dream proves his cruel personality isn’t just headcanon and that he is not beating the mean girl allegations anymore. It’s extremely upsetting because it’s true. Honestly, Vil is NOT beating the allegations and this time, it’s canon that is fucking him over. But before we dive deeper, and before I get too heated again, let’s look at Vil’s dream and how and why it goes against his established character so terribly. Finally, I will share with you all my own ideas of how I imagine Vil’s perfect dream would ACTUALLY play out. Obviously, spoilers ahead for the most recent update.

~~~

First, let’s quickly assess Vil’s character, to better understand why I’m so pissed. As a dorm leader, Vil is meticulous, tenacious and VERY altruistic. He genuinely cares for his dorm mates (and seems to have a soft spot for all the freshmen) and wants to see them become better people. And he goes to great lengths to see this through. Sometimes his methods come off as harsh and overwhelming but at some point even his most disgruntled subordinates come to understand why Vil is the way he is.

Another thing about Vil is he often, willingly, bears financial burdens in order to help those around him. He’s gifted cosmetics to other students and he willingly paid the VDC prize money to his fellow members and Yuu because he felt personally responsible for their loss and that wasn’t a small price tag. And when Yuu, Ace, Jamil and Azul accompanied him to Fairest City in the Tapis Rouge event, it can be assumed that Vil footed the bill for their transportation, logging, their dinner at the fancy restaurant AND the couture outfits they wore.

Despite coming from wealth, I imagine Vil’s wealth isn’t limitless like Kalim’s so to spend so much money on your classmates, and not expecting anything in return, speaks volumes about Vil’s selflessness and nobility. And because Vil’s wealth isn’t limitless, it makes his actions all the more meaningful.

As an actor, he is equally tenacious but more importantly, desires that ALL his success come from his own efforts and not because he’s the son of such a famous actor and producer. To the point Vil went to the length of actually changing his legal last name to further distance himself from Eric’s legacy. It would be so easy for Vil to coast off his father’s success. Eric could probably secure for his son any role that he wants, including the heroic one that Vil so deeply desires. But such would be going against every value Vil holds and would open him up to accusations of nepotism. Further adding to the villainous image the public falsely has of him.

And as for his dynamic with Epel, I know this is an unpopular opinion but the way Vil treats him is NOT abusive. I understand there is a cultural aspect to Vil’s issue with Epel’s speech patterns that was made worse by how EN translated it but even with that in mind, Vil’s demands aren’t really that unreasonable. He makes it clear from the jump that he takes no issue with his dialect and it could be argued that Vil being so hard on him is out of care for Epel. What do you think would have happened if Epel took up such an attitude with any other NRC student? He would regularly be getting his ass beat and Vil is trying to prevent that. Honestly I have a lot of opinions on Vil’s dynamic with Epel but they’ll have to wait for another time.

And even then, it’s been implied a few times that Vil tries to help Epel out in ways that Epel doesn’t completely hate. Even if Vil doesn’t approve of Epel’s misogyny, he does accept his interests and understands he desire to be stronger. It’s further implied in Epel’s dorm vignette when Vil tasks him with creating the magical wheel for his film project because he knows that Epel would enjoy it.

So as we can see, Vil is probably one of the more upstanding characters in twst. His crimes, if you can call them that, can mostly be regulated by misunderstandings and he actually ends up subverting many of the expectations we’d have for a character type like his. Even when he overblots, how it happens is so removed from the other overblots (and even the ones that come after) that it’s actually incredibly tragic.

Now, let’s look at how Vil is portrayed in his perfect dream world.

Terribly, to put it lightly. Though I understand now one of the reasons we got the Tapis Rouge event. Anyway, in Vil’s dream, he’s still a mega famous actor, beloved by many fans. The main difference between this and real life is Vil himself. When away from his adoring fans, he’s shown to be conceited, arrogant and mean spirited. He speaks very insultingly to Yuu and the other characters and even threatens to curse them as well. Neige is also his assistant in this dream and Vil is downright abusive to him. Even Miranda Priestly was a kinder boss to Andy than Vil is to Neige here.

Later when Yuu and co attempt to wake Vil up, he ends up having another dream of the VDC. In this one, Vil actually SUCCEEDS in poisoning Neige, resulting in NRC Tribe taking first place. Despite the fact that this again goes against every value Vil holds and it was actually his guilt of what he could have done to Neige that caused his overblot in the first place. And despite the fact that Vil would be revolted at VDC victory at such a cost. EVEN MORE than if he had won with their imperfect performance.

All in all, he seems more like a caricature of his archetype than the actual kind and complex character he actually is. The complete opposite of EVERYTHING we’ve seen from Vil thus far. Naturally, I took great issue with this, not only because this just feeds into the fandom’s misconceptions of Vil, but because it’s just not accurate. AT ALL! THIS IS LIKE A BAD FUCKING FANFICTION!

Okay, okay, before I get too hot under the collar, let me actually explain why this is such an awful portrayal of a character I hold so dear to my heart.

Departure from his canon personality: Despite being a famous actor and model celebrated for his incredible beauty, Vil is actually a very humble person. His nature is not naturally mean-spirited, and he’s not a spoiled brat. Even when people piss him off, he’ll make his displeasure known; make no mistake about that! But he’s always respectful and, in the instance during the Tapis Rouge event, sometimes even encouraging. Above everything else, Vil is never harder on people than he is on himself.

Oversimplifying/invalidating his disdain for Neige: Now I understand that Neige being Vil’s abused assistant is a reference to Snow White being the Evil Queen’s scullery maid. But based on everything we know and have seen from both Vil and Neige, the reference does a disservice to both their characters. I would even argue if the reference was really needed in the first place because Vil’s disdain for Neige was never so simple as just petty jealousy. There is an actual, unfair dichotomy between them that places Neige above Vil in the eyes of people like Rook and, ultimately, the public at large. Vil has every right to resent this and were he treated more fairly, he might even be more kindly disposed towards Neige. Because Vil isn’t a petty person. Neige clearly admires Vil and Vil at least respects Neige but the dichotomy between them unfortunately prevents them from having a healthier dynamic. I don’t know if this will make sense but I don’t believe Vil hates Neige, what he hates is what he represents.

Disney vs Yana: Now, I wanna preface what I’m about to say next as it being COMPLETELY speculation of my own. I have no hand in creating twst and have no idea what goes into it beyond what Yana talks or tweets about. But I’ve always felt that Disney takes issue with their more heroic characters portrayed in a morally gray light. It would explain why we haven’t seen Prince Rielle, why we haven’t seen Farena despite there being a whole ass Sunset Savanna event, and why everything about Neige’s character actually works against him and why he should be seen as the fairest one of all. In this case, I wonder if Vil’s ooc dream could have resulted from Disney meddling. It wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened in a game Disney has a creative hand in; anyone who is a Kingdom Hearts fan and played KH3 knows this all too well. If that’s the case, this actually makes me extremely worried when we see the future overblotee dreams. ESPECIALLY Jamil’s dream, if you know, you know.

For the most part, those are all the things I disliked about Vil’s dream. But now, in the interest of not ending this post on a completely sour note, let me paint for you all a picture. Two in fact since Vil had two different dreams in canon.

Scenario 1: Vil never sees Neige’s VDC rehearsal. He and his teammates review the rehearsal footage as he originally intended, and he’s not put in a position to be retraumatized again. So he doesn’t overblot and instead, NRC Tribe gives a perfect performance through and through. Even when Vil does see Neige on stage, he knows he’s given the best performance he can and still votes for his team. NRC Tribe wins and Vil is celebrated for his incredible talent and absolutely beautiful dedication. The first step in Vil finally seeing himself with value outside the villainous persona people have projected upon him.

Scenario 2: This one I like a little better. Soon after graduation, Vil is offered the lead role in the Legendary Sword sequel Adela tried to sign him up for in Book 5. He plays the role of the heroic prince phenomenally and people are wowed by how much tenacity he brings to the role. As a heroic prince, he's charming and snarky, no-nonsense but with a heart of gold. Bringing a lot of his personality to the role but in a way that makes the audience relate with him regardless of his otherworldly beauty. Proving that he has what it takes to be a hero and stand on the stage until the end, he ALWAYS had was it takes. Neige would still exist in his perfect dream world and may still be in the film. Not as a rival/villain, though, but maybe as a supporting character. But with Vil finally getting the recognition he deserves, his dynamic with Neige would likely become healthier over time.

In both scenarios, Vil would still be compelled to face his overblot phantom but things would be very different than how they went down in canon. After Yuu and co attempt to wake Vil up, he would be taken by the darkness and then come face to face with his phantom but rather than the phantom blaming Neige for everything, it would despair in its ugliness and how he can never be the fairest one of all. Not because of Neige, but because of his “ugly” feelings that compelled him to want to poison Neige in the first place.

Now, I personally feel like Vil’s canon dream is incredibly ooc for him. But if I must accept it, the only way I can interpret it is as being a result of Vil’s more ugly subconscious feelings. His jealousy of Neige and the “ugly” feeling that Neige must be put down in order for Vil to rise on top. That is the ONLY way I can consider this even a little in character for Vil but regardless , in my version, Vil would have to face all of those feelings head on.

Upon seeing his phantom’s sorrow, something would click in Vil that would make him realize that he was never ugly simply for having ugly emotions. That’s what makes him human and he shouldn’t be punished himself for that. Vil would tell his phantom that he’s not ugly and while desiring to poison Neige was abhorrent, that is not who Vil truly is. Reminding himself of the true nobility of his character. However, the phantom would still cry and even try to attack Vil for “lying” to him, attempting to consume Vil in the blot and saying it will consume everything so it can be the fairest one of all.

But this time, Vil would be strong enough to face those ugly emotions and that’s when he would overblot again.

There would still be a fight for gameplay reasons. But instead of Vil realizing he’s a terrible person deep down and “accepting” his dark, evil nature, he would instead comfort the phantom after weakening it. As the phantom fades, it would still weep at its ugliness but Vil would reiterate to him over and over again that he’s not ugly and while doing so, realizing himself that he isn’t ugly either simply for having ugly feelings and desires. What makes a person truly ugly is acting on those ugly emotions. Vil doesn’t have to always be perfect, he just has to be the best person he can be. But in being the best person he can, continually perusing his true definition of beauty, holding on to his values and never compromising them, can Vil truly be the fairest one of all.

Damn…why am I crying?! 😭

That would not only be such a great message but considering how subversive Vil’s overblot was from the start, would be very in keeping with the themes of Vil’s character arc. It would be the first step forward in repairing Vil’s broken self esteem. Unfortunately, this is not what we got but considering how it seems that Vil is still internalizing a lot of toxic things about himself, it’s heartbreaking, but understandable. But I’ll talk more about that in the upcoming addendum.

In the end, Vil is an incredibly tragic and misunderstood character, probably the most misunderstood character in twst after Kalim. And unfortunately, this most recent JP update did little to help his case. But either way, I at least hope I did an adequate job at explaining why. And I hope that in the future, Vil’s complexities are more accepted and acknowledged. By both the fandom and the canon.

#twisted wonderland #twst book 7 #twst jp spoilers #twst book 7 spoilers #pomefiore #jas reads twst #shut up jas #vil schoenheit

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theworldwalkerswols · 2 years

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Alt text: Please note repeated tags and numbered tweets indicating thread progression have been omitted.

Twitter thread by user G’raha Tia @/graha_tia on Jan 1, 2022

RADZ-AT-HAN SCENE ANALYSIS: G'RAHA TAKES CHARGE (and makes the fans collapse into a collective sobbing heap)

G'raha's flight, fight, or freeze response is 'Assume Full Command and Take Charge of the Situation' and I think it's the most amazing thing.

The guy is surrounded by people who are literally exploding into horrifying, rampaging monsters & the leader of those people was just devoured alive in front of him, and he kicks into high gear & gains control of everybody in under twenty seconds.

It shows his leadership experience as the Exarch, and how many crises and horrors he must have endured throughout his time during the 8th Umbral Calamity and the Flood of Light on the First. Everything about the scene is so perfectly done, too.

G'raha doesn't just pull out his weapon and start screaming orders - he positions himself in the middle of the space so everyone can have a clear line of sight to him, and he to them. This not only makes it easier for everyone visually, but places him at a vulnerable yet defendable point of reference - everyone (including the Blasphemies) can get to him with relative ease and he, as both a healer and combatant, can get to them quickly if needed. He straightens his posture, pulls back his shoulders, tucks his chin a little, and starts speaking slowly from his chest and diaphragm-which drops his pitch half an octave, adding bass & power, and makes his voice carry without much effort and with absolute clarity over the shrieks of the Blasphemies and the sounds of fighting.

His commands are simple & concise, which is vastly different from his normal talkative demeanor & shows his familiarity with similar situations - after all, it's hard for people in crisis mode to listen & process anything complicated. He's able to break things down to short, digestable phrases: "defend this point", "run here for safety", "REMAIN CALM," and makes it very easy for people both panicking & fighting for their lives to understand & follow.

He has such a strong presence that everyone around just instinctively listens - not a single person questions his authority or decisions, despite most of them having no clue who he is. He establishes himself immediately as a steady rock in the middle of the (almost literal) storm, and even the people who don't know him can feel his reliability & gravitate towards it. The entire scene is just absolutely perfect to me, from the animation & cinematography, to the superb voice acting, to the music and sound design (the cries of the Blasphemies [were] positively bone chilling)... Phenomenal, and one of my favorites from the expansion, not only because it's G'raha.

A visceral, horrifying experience that compounded & solidified the dire nature of the situation into players' minds, and started a long chain of even more terrifying scenes of tragedy (because objectively the Palaka's Stand arc was one of the most distressing).

But despite the fear & dread the story always reminded us that even the darkest moments had light.

Whether it was G'raha standing tall in Radz-At-Han, the WoL & twins fighting their way to Palaka's Stand, or even dear Matsya & the teachings of his faith--it was a constant, well-executed reminder to keep the hope.

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk!

I'm so happy to have experienced such a phenomenal, thought-provoking, heartfelt story and honestly have much more to say about everything, but perhaps that'll be for another time. <3

Attached at the end of the thread is a meme image of a man sitting at a table on a campus. The sign on the table reads “ENDWALKER IS THE BEST YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND”

alt text end.

This thread perfectly encapsulates why this moment was so powerful! It also is so COMPLICATED, character wise, because just before he takes charge, he sighs and it sounds distorted to me, like the voices of those who are beginning to succumb.

#Endwalker spoilers #G'raha Tia #FFXIV headcanons

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the-depths-au · 5 months

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FAQ

*this post continues heavy totk spoilers

How did it start?

A lot of people started posting some really cool art of a TotK ending where Zelda returns as a hybrid dragon creature thing. I saw a few that called it a “bad” ending and I noticed she was often portrayed with dominantly human-features just like, with horns or a tail, or the purple eyes, etc. I love to play video games(clearly) and I enjoy the challenge of seeing various endings, not just “secret endings” (think Heavy Rain, Until Dawn, The Witcher 3, Drakengard- anyone else play this?) I got to thinking about how her coming back didn’t really like a true “bad ending”. To me, a bad ending, really, would be one in which she didn’t get to magically, miraculously come back in any form. A bad ending to me would be Mineru’s warning held true. And in doing so, it would become The Legend of Zelda because she becomes the stuff of myths. Of true Legend. Fulfilling destiny (botw-era and the series as a whole). My brain sort of took off from there regarding the implications this would have on Hyrule and specially, our boy Link.

How could you! A Bad ending? Is this story at least hurt and eventual comfort??? Does it have a happy ending??

I could tag this hurt and comfort, but usually people who read these types of stories have certain expectations of what “comfort” is (and that’s okay!). Same with a “happy” ending. I don’t need stories to be wrap up in a bow with warmth to enjoy them. Honestly, some of the stories that have touched me the most over the years have had “sad” endings/negative character arcs/tragedy. That being said, I don’t particularly enjoy pure whump, either. What I feel is most important and what I am to do with this story, is to make any suffering meaningful. With purpose. And hopefully- maybe- you’ll see the “comfort” that is possible even in these types of stories.

Wait! So Zelda remains a dragon?

Yes. They defeat the demon dragon. Rauru and Sonia appear in a silent thanks, then they disappear and Link falls from the sky alone into the water. The Light Dragon continues along in her flight above him.

Link is also the only one who can see/has ever seen the Light Dragon.

Are there any other major changes from TotK?

It follows the game pretty closely. It’s just hard to say exactly what is in this story from TotK because there is just so much. In BotW, I headcanon Link took his time. He doesn’t remember anything. He is alone, lost, and the world is a vast, broken place. Therefore, it is plausible/ realistic in my head for all the side questions to be done prior to the ending being reached. In TotK, especially with the headcanon he and Zelda were together in the time between BotW and TotK, I had a hard time imagining Link would waste much time on anything unnecessary to save Zelda. So, with this in mind, I’ve had to justify the side questions to include in the story. Link’s journey is a bit different than my own. Whereas I actually spent 80% of my playthrough exploring the depths, this Link only went down when necessary. Meaning many of the lightroots have not been unlocked and he only has part of the armor of the depths. In the Linktober and the early concept, he has the entire set but this has been changed for the main comic.

How far after the events of TotK does this take place?

Five years.

Is it completely planned out?

Yes. I have a complete rough story outline done. It’s 17 chapters. I am anticipating some editing as I go, but regardless, it’s a big project. A huge shout out to @zeldaelmo and @fioreofthemarch for helping me get the story set. They are both phenomenal writers for the LoZ fandom so be sure to check them out!

What happened to the comic?

I made the decision to tell this story (initially) in writing. I have a very specific style in mind for this story as a full comic and honestly, I just don't feel like my artistic ability and overall proficiency is where I want it to be at this time. I'm still learning! I will be continuing to post art, concept art, and some comic panels here as I go and eventually, I would love to adapt the story into a full comic, but for now, I'll be telling the main story in writing.

How long have you been drawing?

I’ve been drawing all my life. Just for fun, although I took a few classes in school. Digitally, self-taught, since fall 2022. Still very new to this with lots to learn! I have a minor in creative writing and feel much more confident and comfortable with that.

Feel free to send me a DM with questions anytime! I plan to update this periodically.

Last updated 2/26/24

#FAQ

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hyunverse · 1 year

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𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓 ☆ 𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍. (𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑!)

⤿ pairing: portrait maker! hyunjin x afab royal! reader. gender neutral pronouns used. ⤿ summary: “you and i, we're made of tragedy — we're star-crossed. we're not meant to be.” meeting the elite portrait maker, hwang hyunjin, is both the best and worst thing to have ever happened to you. inspired by shakespeare's romeo and juliet. ⤿ tags: enemies to lovers, slowburn, fluff, angst. cocky hyunjin. ⤿ expected wc: 12k words+ ⤿ expected posting time: the end of april. ⤿ a part of an ot8 royalty au collab. subscribe to the collab taglist here. ⤿ playlist.

“Apologies for the Crown Princess of Noctifer’s absence, I regret to inform you that they are currently stuck in a clamant affair,” Minho reasons.

Hyunjin simply nods.

Socially, unacceptable it is for a mere civilian to simply nod at royalty or their consorts — but if Hyunjin were to open his mouth, only foul words would be spilling out of them. A man of punctuality he is, and he expects the same from everyone.

Amidst Hwang Hyunjin’s assiduous schedule, he was asked to become the official portrait maker of the Noctifer Crown Heir. One of the spokespeople of the kingdom had approached him, practically begging to make some time for you — that he would not be wasting time as he etches your face onto a canvas — that he’ll kill two birds with one stone, creating connections while he’s at it.

As if he needed any more connections — was what Hyunjin wanted to say, withal he wished to preserve his career, therefore he kept his mouth shut. On a parchment of agreement, he put down his signature, ink black and prominent.

He was to become the princess’ portrait maker. Devote many a moon to the Crown Princess, dribbling his talent onto empty canvases — turning them into masterpieces. He had endeavoured in painting portraits of many royal members, expectant of the hardships of it all. Hyunjin was ready.

What he wasn’t prepared for was your tardiness. In all his years of being a portrait maker, not once had he ever encountered an extremely tardy royalty — a princess, at that. Hyunjin’s patience wears thin, bubbling up his mind is the urge to pack up his tools, and then take off.

Ere the thoughts take over the painter’s head, the mahogany door opens, and in comes a woeful figure. What rueful sight — the worst posture Hyunjin had ever seen, and a reluctant expression engraved on visage.

“Here you are!” the Queen says, approaching the figure, “goodness, what had taken you so long?”

“Your Royal Highness,” Minho greets, a glance towards Hyunjin prompts him to bow as well, “someone is here for you.”

You turn to look at Hyunjin, and he does not miss the manner you look at him — eyes tracing his body from the top of his head down to the leather shoes he sports. His entire body feels squeamish under your gaze, the man could feel goosebumps arise under his strait-laced garments. Naked, he feels.

“Greetings,” you greet him, eyes settling on his face, “sincerest apologies for the delay. Politics can take quite some time.”

Expectant you are for a laugh and a bow from Hyunjin — he knows, and he dissents to give you the satisfaction of respect. If you are to receive any respect from the portrait maker, you would have to earn it. Arriving an hour late has strayed you far from earning any.

So, Hyunjin just hums. The stare you’re sending him is given right back.

Could you feel it? His antagonism.

You could.

The tension — it could be sliced with a butcher’s knife. Heavy, and laced with venom. A sound produced by the Royal Advisor clearing his throat breaks the silence, “Her Majesty and I shall take our leaves now, we would hate to prolong your session even more. Have a good time.”

Their exit leaves you alone with the man standing in front of you. Wonder invades your mind — how could this man you’ve just met resent you so much? With only a look and a hum, you could feel his distaste.

“You may sit on the stool there,” he instructs, pointing at a brown stool with his lips, hands busy sorting his pencils.

You do as told, as you always do in the castle walls. In covert dismay, you purse your lips, brushing off your dress as soon as you land on the rather vexatious stool. A combination of a standoffish man and an uncomfortable seat certainly is a recipe for your ire.

The sound of pencil against canvas apprises you of the portrait maker beginning his sketch. A long day it will be, and so forth you attempt to make the best of it. Curiously, you watch the handsome man, brain-racking for a conversation starter.

“Indulge me, portrait maker,” your voice breaks the looming silence, “put a name to the face. From which kingdom do you hail?”

The screeches of pencil against canvas halts, and his dark eyes peek at you from behind the wooden easel. His shoulders rise and fall as he breathes heavily.

“Hwang Hyunjin. I hail from Prince Lee Yongbok’s kingdom.”

An answer for each question. Uninterested in engaging in a conversation with you, so it seems. Your tongue kisses your teeth as you adjust yourself in your seat.

“Hwang Hyunjin. . . ‘tis a beautiful name. Prince Lee Yongbok’s kingdom is a fine kingdom to reside in, as well — I hope to set sail there one of these days, and reunite with my best companion.”

“Hm.”

Though your patience wears thin, you continue, “Have you ever been to Noctifer before?”

“No.”

“Oh,” you nod, “tell me then, Hwang Hyunjin — what part of this kingdom ticks your fancy? Does the nature of it soothes your heart or perhaps, it’s the people that make your heart swell?”

“None, princess. I have been to better nations.”

“Pardon?”

“The mountains of the Empyrean kingdom are alike none other, princess.”

To speak to you in an unpleasant manner, you could forgive. Unbeknownst to him you have grown accustomed to such intonation thanks to your mother. However, to insult the beauty (or to him, lack thereof) of Noctifer’s cosmos? A sin you couldn’t, mustn’t forgive. The boiling of your blood is rapid, threatening to spill.

“Dare you speak ill of Noctifer in front of the Crown Heir themself? How brave, portrait maker — your ignorance to address me properly I could look past, but I refuse to see you speak gravely of my kingdom.”

“Speaking ill? Princess, I am not speaking ill of your kingdom’s landscapes,” Hyunjin retorts, wiping his charcoal-tainted hand on a piece of cloth, “I am speaking from a painter’s perspective, princess. Am I not here on the basis of professionalism? I am here as a painter, nay a poet. As for addressing you, I will address you with your title once you learn to not waste people’s time because of your disgraceful tardiness.”

The heaving of your chest does not go unnoticed. It satisfies a part of Hyunjin. The part of him which brews ego.

“You dare look down on me behind my own doors, portrait maker? Wretched thing — I could ask for you to be beheaded right this instant.”

“Will you, princess?” he presses his lips together. A daring man, he is. He looks at you in surly mien, eyes narrowed, “though I admit you have the manners of an untrained baboon, you do not strike me as merciless. I highly doubt you would behead me for a few remarks. You strike me as a princess with a moral compass.”

He’s right — you loathe it. The syllables which spill from his lips are nothing short of the truth, yet irritating nonetheless. You dislike the idiosyncrasy he looks at you with — the scowl plastered on his handsome face, the judging eyes and the impatient taps of his foot against the fine marbles. You dislike how he could get right to work shortly after criticizing you. As if his words do not hurt when they’re piercing right to your heart as anger bubbles at the pit of your stomach.

Hyunjin continues sketching your face. Each gaze on you he lets linger for a second longer, taking in the shape of your frowning face. Soon, he could feel his body relaxing onto the stool he sits on.

You, on the other hand, sit uncomfortably in your seat. You keep shifting in your seat, the heat of the room getting to you. Hyunjin had the sweet honour of being the last to speak, you will not allow it.

“Please stop moving, princess.”

You grumble under your breath.

Wild eyes scan Hyunjin, in search of anything, anything you could comment on. Childish, it may be. But you are almost never allowed to talk back — would it really be a sin for you to argue with a portrait maker? With no one around, it seems as though it’s the only chance you’ll get to have the last words. You never get to.

Your eyes land on Hyunjin’s hands. They’re slender, filled with callouses only attainable for an artist. The sides of his palms are tainted with black charcoal. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek.

“Your hands. They’re charcoal-stained.”

Hyunjin pauses. He looks at his hands, then yours.

“And you have the hands of someone who has never done a single chore.”

God.

He’s irritating.

Confusing, as well. One minute he’s complimenting you on your morals, the next he’s criticizing you.

You roll your eyes then slump into the seat until he points out your posture. You straighten your back, determined to keep your mouth shut as a way of protest. If remarks couldn’t be your sword, you shall make use of the silent treatment.

The session ends with a finished sketch, and he informs you the next session shall be the time he paints it. No curtsy is offered to you, to your expectance — he exits the room, bringing along his supplies.

“How was the session, Your Royal Highness?” Jisung walks into the room. His hair’s a mess, mud on the ends of his shoes. He was horse-riding, you assume.

Your reply comes in the form of a sigh. You tap your fingers against the armrest, allowing yourself some time to wrap your mind around the events prior. The enigma named Hwang Hyunjin.

“The portrait maker… he’s… interesting.”

Jisung’s eyebrow raises at your response.

COMING SOON!

taglist: @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @bakugossanity , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs , @bbujiikseu , @byjeekies , @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @strayingawayy , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo

#hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x yn #hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin x yn #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenario #hwang hyunjin scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #hyunjin fluff

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oskea93 · 2 months

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✦ It Had to be You: Two ✦

John “Bucky” Egan x OC Gale “Buck Cleven x OC

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not associated with the real people mentioned from the show. This is simply based on the portrayals of the actors playing these characters. Warning for this chapter: Cursing, mention of death, suicidal ideations.

● If you would like to be tagged, just comment below ●

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“You need to eat something, Carolina – “ My mother’s voice straining. “You’re withering away to that of a corpse.”

The thought of eating anything at this point, especially the pickled beetroot, was enough to make me want to vomit. I moved the spoon around in the liquid, playing with it as if I were still a child. You really don’t feel like eating after watching the love of your life be lowered into the hard, cold ground.

I leaned back in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not hungry.” Mother darting her gaze in my direction. “Thank you anyway, Mother.”

I knew her patience with me was starting to wane, her emotions taking a direct hit as well. I didn’t want to do anything – eat, bathe, talk – I just wanted to be left alone and that was killing her to see. My father on the other hand just pushed everything to the side, whispering to mother that this too shall pass. He had fought in the Great War – seeing many of his fellow colleagues and friends shot down right in front of him. He knew the tolls of war and what they could do to someone’s psyche, especially the wives of the soldiers that never made it home. To him, this was a natural part of life. To my father, Gale was taken for a reason that we didn’t have any business knowing. It was his time to go and there was nothing that any of us could do about it.

She took a seat at the table across from me, pushing her greying hair from her face. The air was silent between us, neither her nor I making direct eye contact. She finally broke the ice, clearing her throat before speaking,

“Carolina –“She took a short pause as she gathered her words. “I won’t tell you that I know how you’re feeling right now because I’ve never had to deal with such tragedy, but I can’t stand seeing you act this way, darling.” Tears brimming her lined eyes. “You're love for Gale is something that I admire greatly and I know he was your everything if not more –“I narrow my eyes as she speaks. “But you can’t keep pushing yourself down this rabbit hole of self-neglect and mourning.”

I was appalled – dumbfounded that she would even say such a thing.

“He was you're first love – and while that is important – you are still young, and I don’t want to see your beauty go to waste.”

“I just buried my husband less than four hours ago and you’re telling me that I need to suck it up and go find another man?” My voice low. “Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?”

She was taken back by my question – her eyes squinting at my argument. “I just want what’s best for you, Ca-“

“No-“ I cut her off. “I’m not gonna sit here and be lectured by someone who’s never been through what I’m going through at this moment.” My voice quivering with anger. “Gale was the love of my life – and I’m sorry if you’ve never felt that way towards Daddy, but there’s no man on this planet that could ever fill Gale’s shoes and there never will be.”

My chair scrapped against the hardwood floor as I jump up to leave. I could hear her calls as I marched back to the bedroom, slamming the door with all my might. The sobs that I had held back escaped as I slid to the floor – my knees curling into my chest as the tears streamed down my face.

I didn’t even cry when they lowered his casket into the ground.

The shock of that being the last image of Gale that I would ever see again sending my body into a hypnotic state. My mother’s words finally breaking the damn open – my anger allowing the floodgates to open…

“You see that soldier over there – “Her painted finger pointing in the man’s direction. “I bet you I can get him to ask me to dance during the next song.”

I rolled my eyes as I sipped on my coke, watching as Brenda and the other girls at the table laughed and flirted with the man in question. He was tall and dark headed – not really that handsome – but that was for her to worry about. Brenda Cogsworth was a girl that my mother forced me to be around. Her mother and my mother had grown up together, becoming friends while our fathers were fighting in the First World War. The Cogsworth family had money, but class was missed with their precious Brenda. She was wild as a stallion, kissing ever boy that looked in her direction. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up knocked up or infected by a disease that Penicillin couldn’t cure.

“Why aren’t you putting yourself out there, Carolina?”

Brenda smirked to her friends as she waited for my reply. It was obvious they were teasing - knowing that I hadn’t spoken to a single fella since I arrived. My mother had forced me to come to the dance – telling me that I needed to be cordial – silently demanding that I find a future husband. Initially, I was a very shy person, but I opened like a flower in the Spring once I got to know someone. By coming to dances such as these, I didn’t think I was up to par with the other ladies, such as Brenda and her gaggle of friends. They had bright blonde hair and smooth skin – I had dirty blonde hair and chastity pustules that would pop up during my flow. My mother always made sure I was well dressed but you must have a pretty face, not just a nice dress to get a soldier to notice you these days.

I kept quiet as I watched the man in question smile to his friends before sauntering towards our table. He removed his cap, tucking it under his arm, as he slicked back his already oiled hair. He introduced himself, taking Brenda’s hand in his, pressing a kiss against her skin. The table swooned as they watched the events they had just discussed unfold, quietly celebrating as the solider lifted Brenda was from the table and onto the dance floor. I guess you would call them good friends for being happy for her, but these girls were calculative. They would be happy for you to your front, but their bodies were raging with envy. They all wished they could be Brenda at that moment – dancing away with a soldier that you’d be lucky to see again once the war was over.

“Now he’s a looker.”

I followed the glances of the girls as they watched the man walk towards the bar. He was dressed in slacks and a collared shirt – his blonde hair positioned in a tousled fashion.

They were right – he was very attractive – too attractive to be from around here. I watched as he spoke with another male – his smile big and bright – as he laughed at their words. The girls continued to whisper about him, telling each other to make the first move before someone else decides too.

“If you ladies will excuse me.” I took one last sip before standing up, smoothing down my dress before turning towards the gentleman. I don’t know what had gotten into me – the fact that I was tired of being the butt of their jokes – or the gumption of just trying to find out if I could confront someone of the opposite sex. My mother always told me it was the man’s place to approach for the first time. Make him do the work as you sit back and bask in the attention.

Mother’s rule went flying out the window that night.

I let out a deep breath, my hand reaching out to tap his shoulder. His friends were the first to notice me, grinning at me as the man I had sought out slowly turned around. He was about a foot taller than me – his blue eyes connected with mine.

“Hello –“My cheeks blushing. “I’m Carolina Davies.”

His eyes trailed down my body – his friends snickering as they nursed their drinks. “Carolina?” His voice deep. “Like North Carolina?”

The tone of his voice having a hint of tease, “Yeah.” My confidence starting to slowly deflate as he looked at his friends, knocking into each other as they laughed.

“Not to be a drag or anything, Carolina-“He paused as he stood a little straighter. “But your looks aren’t doing it for me, sweetheart.” He spoke matter of fact. “Sorry if me looking over at the table you were sitting at made you think that I was interested in you –“Another pause. “But I was looking at the girl you were sitting next to – the pretty one.”

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as the shame and embarrassment draped over me. I had just made a complete fool of myself – knowing damn well that I should’ve just kept my butt in that chair.

I didn’t bother saying anything else to him – there was nothing to say to be honest. I just gave him a small smile before excusing myself. The girls I had been sitting with watching the interaction, hiding their smiles as I walked by.

My stride grew faster as I pushed past the dancing couples, needing the immediate feel of fresh air on my skin. I felt like an utter fool – a reject – ugly.

The cool autumn air provided me a sense of relief as my body pressed against the brick wall of the hall. I ignored the glances of those that were entering, wiping away the stale tear that would occasionally drop from my lashes.

“Carolina?”

My eyes darting over to the man standing to the right of me. “Carolina, right?” His smile growing as I looked at him confused.

I nodded, “Yeah?” My voice weary.

He took a step closer – his facial features coming to light as he stood under the singular bulb. His smile started to fall slightly as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He shuffled his feet. “Saw what those guys did back there – should’ve never happened.”

Silence struck me – my brain trying to wrap around the words he was saying.

“I’m Gale Cleven.” A twinkle showing in his blue eyes.

“Carolina Davies.” My voice cracking.

His charming smile reappeared causing the theoretical butterflies to migrate around my stomach. He was very handsome – much more attractive than the guy at the bar. “Beautiful name for a gorgeous girl.”

I watched as the birds hopped around the yard – pulling the early worm from the soggy ground. The weather mimicked my mood – dark and grey – the sun disappearing the morning of Gale’s funeral. It had been over a week – a long week – full of sympathetic gestures and “I’m so sorry for your loss” sentiments. I had sent my parents away two days ago – no longer able to take their constant supervision – hiding sharp objects and medications so I wouldn’t harm myself in anyway.

I constantly thought about it though.

Just a flick of the blade one right way or a handful of the right pills – Gale and I would be reunited, and the worries of the world would dissipate. I could never get the gumption to do it. I was positive that Gale was looking down on me – just the way the wind would blow a certain way – or a red cardinal sitting on the fence that sat in front of the kitchen window. He wouldn’t want me to reach that level of despair. He would want me to go one and be happy, but it’s hard to do so when your heart is breaking into a million pieces. It’s hard to remain happy when lying in bed, reaching across to the spot where he once slept – the sheets cold – the empty void of waking up alone every morning.

The distant sound of a truck pulled me away from my thoughts – the familiar black Ford kicking up dust as it came closer. I let out a sigh, pulling Gale’s shirt tighter around my body, hiding the thin lace of my nightgown from John’s view.

“Morning, Carolina.” His gruff voice sounding as he removed himself from the driver’s side.

I stayed silent – rolling my eyes at the sight of him. I had gotten rid of everyone except him – John was like a piece of lint that just kept popping up – no matter how many times you swept – he still lingered long after.

My eyes glanced over as he walked to the back of the truck, pulling two suitcases from the bed. Worn leather and seeing better days, he placed them on the wooden steps. “Good to see you getting some fresh air.”

Pushing out of the rocker, I retreated into the house, the screen door slamming against the frame. Muttered words slipped past his lips; his boots heavy as he followed my direction. I had made myself a pot of coffee earlier, forgetting about it until reaching the kitchen. Pouring the dark liquid into my cup and the rest down the drain, not up to sharing with the likes of John Egan. I took a seat at the table – our eyes connecting over the coffee cup as he entered the room. Silence blanketed the room as he leaned against the counter, his gaze focused on the backyard.

“Why are you still coming around?”

His neck turning – our eyes meeting once again. “Pardon?”

Sitting up a little straighter, Gale’s shirt opening slightly as I moved. “I said –“My tone low. “Why are you still coming around? He’s dead and gone – your services around here are no longer warranted.”

“And what services might those be?” His jaw clenching.

A loud sigh blew through my nose, “Those of the mighty hero – the devoted friend – the courageous major who led his team out of the trenches. Only thing –“ I paused. “You weren’t brave enough to take the bullet yourself, letting your dear friend, Buck, take the lead instead. That’s a real heroic act if you ask me, Mr. Egan.”

The words dripped with venom – John’s eyes burning with utter rage as the room acquired a deafening silence. His diaphragm moving at a rapid rate as the anger coursed through his body – his fist balled together as he resisted the temptation to start swinging.

I struck a nerve – Gale’s death was the nail that was hammered into John’s figurative coffin on the daily. The thoughts of seeing his friend being shot down – only following his commands to go over the wall to a hopeful escape. Seeing Gale’s lifeless body lying on the snow-covered ground as blood seeped from the open wounds – John deserved to see that every time he closed his eyes.

“I never claimed to be a fucking hero, Lina.” His voice thick with emotion.

I rolled my eyes at the mention of the nickname he had given me. Crossing my arms in a defensive motion as he stepped close to where I sat.

His knees cracking as he crouched down, his blues level with mine.

“You think hiding behind this hateful wall is gonna make you feel better? Sayin hateful things to the people who are just trying to help you?”

My eyes narrowed.

“Get off your high horse, little girl. Your husband was my best friend – the only person that kept me going during those God-awful days at that fucking camp. You think you’re the only one hurting – honey, you don’t even know the half of it.”

Our faces were centimeters away – his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

Kicking my leg out as I stood, I bumped purposely into his body as I retreated to the front entrance. His bags still sitting by the door – no reason at all why they should even be in the house to begin with.

Taking each case in my hands, kicking open the screen door, I haphazardly tossed them into the muddy yard – a smile forming as they landed with a splash in the dirty water.

The thunderous sound of his footsteps met my ears, his jaw slacked at the sight of his things lying in the yard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I couldn’t help but laugh, watching as he raced down the steps, pulling the leather out of the puddle, water dripping as he held it away from himself.

It was the first time I had laughed since the news of Gale’s death – coming at the misery and expense of John Egan.

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shiftingconfessions · 1 month

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i wish more people where open about how ableist the shifting community can be tbh....

some if it's small, petty things like people shifting to DRS with disabilities they don't have here for the "aesthetic" (amputated/prosthetic limbs, partial blindness, scarring, etc) or purposely going to DR's where a canonically disabled character is no longer disabled. & like yeah, these things can be a little annoying but its not a big deal at all.

what IS an issue is refusing to accept that certain disabilities can make shifting difficult. what's also an issue is straight up denying the fact disability is real because shifting exists!!

like, trying to enter the void state is damn near impossible if you have chronic pain. trying to meditate when you have consistent jolts of pain bringing you out of your mind is hard! meditating with adhd is hard! & it shouldn't be hard, because im sure there are other methods, but no one seems to know about them or share them. instead, when scrolling through shifting tags looking for advice, i only see some variation of "there's no real reason you can't shift! stop making excuses, shifting is easy." i know its easy. at least, i know it would be easy if you could give some sort of tutorial or guide besides regurgitating the same 5 methods we've all already heard. im not even really angry that other people don't seem to have answers, that would be hypocritical. i don't have answers either! i've been looking, ive been getting there, but i still don't have an answer yet. i just wish more people admitted they don't have all the answers sometimes.

also... ive seen way too many people saying some form of "im grateful for shifting because i know i'll never become disabled!" or "if you have the right mindset, you can't ever get cancer!" or even "you can manifest your disability away!" I really, really, really hope i don't have to explain why all of these statements are false, not to mention how harmful & cruel they are.

Take this as someone who got cancer after praying to God nightly that i wouldn't. i wasn't immune, or an exception. as gently as i can possibly say this, neither are you. If you are in this reality, unexplainable & unfair illness, death, & tragedy can strike any time. I believed wholeheartedly (or one could say assumed) that my nightly prayers would keep me safe from illness, & I still developed cancer. I did not manifest it, nor did I manifest me recovering. It was probably just rotten luck. im not rambling about this to try & spark fear that you may get cancer too- you're gonna be fine. i just want to offer insight into other peoples lives & how very much not a choice disability is. Shifting is an amazing, infinite thing, but please do not be cruel. please don't forget compassion & humility.

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting realities #desired reality #shifting community #shifting #shiftcourse

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