#or he was so long gone that they moved away to grief in peace

[heartpascal]

if the door wasn’t shut

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: months of travelling with joel and ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.

▹— a/n: i don’t like the second half of this one D: but i made you guys wait long enough so i apologise!!! been super busy so this is v rushed but i hope you enjoy nonetheless

▹— warnings: angst, loss of loved ones, tlou ep 5/6 spoilers, father figure joel, reader is really scared, not proofread

masterlist | PART TWO

howl’s song associations!

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Had you known that those days in Boston QZ would’ve been the last peaceful ones for a long time, you think you might’ve treasured them more. Held them closer, let the edges sharpen when you thought of them, rather than seeing only blurred images, the memories faded.

You wouldn’t have believed it if somebody had told you. The life you lived in Boston was flawed, at best, but it was your life. Filled with violence and bloodshed, sure, but there were things you could control. Things that Joel and Tess had always made sure you could control.

Out in the wide world, the facade of control that the two adults had always kept up crumbled to dust in your hands, lost to Infected and hunters and shelters in the strangest places.

It was a difficult shift in your reality, and you tried to hide it from Joel. He had already given you so much, hell, he and Tess had provided you with a home, even when they had no obligation to do so. You owed them more than your life.

When you had met Ellie, you immediately disliked her. She grated on you, her biting words and humorous comments doing nothing but fueling your growing dislike of her. She was childish — she acted her age, showed her fear, and it was something you just couldn’t understand. You were far too used to closing down the emotion behind your eyes, to shutting away all of your baggage in a box deep in your mind.

It had worn you down, eventually. Hating her was much harder than you expected it to be, especially when she looked at you for the understanding she knew you possessed. You even watched as Joel softened up to her, far faster than he had done with you, and you couldn’t help but follow in his example, as you always tried to do.

Hushed conversations when following Joel’s tense figure, something young passing over you, something that had seemed so… far away. You had always thought that bonds like this could only exist in the world before your own, trust Ellie to prove you wrong.

But one gained friendship didn’t quite make up for all the losses. It was Tess, to start with. Something that had singed your lungs and left you breathing the smoke, something of choked words leaving you when she had revealed the bite on her shoulder. She had looked at you, that understanding passing through her eyes, grief for a life she wouldn’t get to live. You understood the gaze far more than you wanted to, and you knew that the burns scarring your insides wouldn’t fade for a very long time.

Then, it was finding out that Bill and Frank were gone.

It seemed wrong. Something so untouchable, so guarded, how could it possibly be gone? You couldn’t understand it, couldn’t understand how the few people you valued seemed to be dropping away before your very eyes, faster than you could even reach for them.

The journey seemed pointless to you, after that.

Though you felt for Ellie, that selfishness that had always been drilled into you rushed in, drowning out the empathy towards her cause. It left you with something empty inside of your chest, and you couldn’t figure out a way to fill it. You weren’t sure you wanted to.

It only got worse.

Warm days turned colder, the nights going to something nearby freezing, and then there was the events of Kansas City. You had been so sure Joel was going to die, that you and Ellie would follow soon after, that you couldn’t move. Your legs seemed frozen to the spot, and even as you heard the struggle in the other room, it didn’t quite register.

It was only when Ellie managed to get Joel through to the room you were hidden in that you managed to snap out of your fear-induced haze. Your eyes were cloudy, and after that, it was so hard to focus.

You and Ellie had found some comfort when Sam showed up alongside his older brother, Henry. They were a breath of fresh air in the hellscape of a city, and for once, you witnessed true childhood. Saw it in the way Sam scribbled on his board, in the way he laughed at whatever Ellie had written on it. It was contagious, almost.

That was probably the happiest you had been since leaving Boston, and it all fell apart so quickly. Like the first sparks of a fire squandered by the downpour of a storm.

You can’t even remember much of it. Not the big parts, anyway. You remember the little things, like the colour of Sam’s hoodie, or the splinters you got from the floorboards as you fell backwards, scrambled away from the only semblance of childhood you’d ever had. You remember looking to Henry, something in your chest begging to be let out, but choking on it before it could escape. Your remember the sound of something splattering against the wall, and you remember Joel touching your arm after the burial.

Everything was blurring together, but one thing stood out; that overwhelming fear that threatened to sweep you away with every sound you heard, every flash of movement in darkness, every loss you witnessed.

Each day it became harder to shake away the haze to your eyes, harder to feel something other than scared, harder to close that box in your brain and leave those big feelings in there. It became so prevalent, all of it weighing you down, pressing tightly against your shoulders, and somewhere along the line you knew that Joel and Ellie had noticed.

Whether it was your withdrawn behaviour, or the gaping hole ripped into your chest, you weren’t entirely sure. But they knew. Perhaps not to the extent that you believed them to, but they knew something wasn’t quite right.

And now it was the cold threatening to take the three of you — it was freezing the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, and you really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It had been months since Henry and Sam, but it felt like it had been both no time at all, yet so far away. Everything still felt so raw, so fresh, despite time passing as normally as ever.

Joel had somehow managed to find winter supplies for the three of you, consisting of a coat and gloves, a hat that you let Ellie take. It was enough to keep you all alive, but it didn’t stop the chill seeping into your very bones, making it feel all the more harder to keep going.

It got to the point where you just didn’t want to. Couldn’t.

“Come on,” Joel said, your name falling from him as he patted your shoulder, all of his supplies already packed up, “Time to go.”

Getting up seemed impossible, so you didn’t. Just let your eyes glaze over and watched as Joel and Ellie grabbed their weapons, glancing outside of the cabin you’d taken refuge in. Joel looked back to you, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you hadn’t packed up any of your things, hadn’t even moved.

He looked at Ellie, frowning when she noticed, too. He made his way over, crouching down with aching knees, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Kid, we gotta get moving.” Joel said, shaking your shoulder the slightest to gather your attention. You just looked at him, shaking your head. “C’mon. We don’t have time for this.”

“I don’t wanna go anymore, Joel.” You told him, finally admitting the words that sounded so much like defeat. You hated that the world had won, but you were so tired of fighting that you just couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lose.

Joel shook his head, eyebrows creasing, an expression close to dumbfounded crossing his face. He couldn’t understand.

“We’re closer than we’ve ever been!” Ellie said encouragingly, the biggest smile she could muster on her face. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in her direction, instead looking down to where your fingers pulled at the loose threads on your sleeping bag.

“I can’t,” You said, much closer to tears than you had even realised. “I can’t keep doing this. Joel, I wanna go home.”

His frown just deepened, uncertainty present in every feature on his face. Joel didn’t know how to handle this, and there really wasn’t that much time to do so.

“Kid…” He sighed, before sitting down properly beside you with a pained breath.

“No, Joel, I— I want to go back. I want all of this to go away. I want Tess.” You admitted, heart pounding so hard just at the mention of the woman you had lost, and it was painful. Your chest aches the more you thought about it, and there was the realisation that you were homesick. Though you weren’t sure if that’s as for Boston, or for Tess.

“There is no goin’ back, kiddo. Tess… she’s gone. Nothin’ we can do about it.” Joel said, taking a moment to steady the shake in his voice after saying her name. It was just as painful for him as it was for you.

“I’m… I’m scared.” You confessed, voice barely a whisper, but it echoed around the empty walls of the cabin. The confession almost scared Joel, he knew you preferred to keep everything locked tightly, never admitting to the fear he knew was there. “All the time,” You continued, lips trembling around the words, “And it’s all I can think about. I can’t keep doing this. Every time we meet something I just get so scared, I can’t move, can’t speak.”

“It’s okay to be scared—” Joel tried.

“No, it’s not! It’s like I’m frozen, and every time, I lose someone. I can’t watch you guys die. I can’t do it.” You cut him off, the tears falling from your eyes as you looked at Joel.

He couldn’t do much more than frown, unsure how he could fix something like this. He knew the feeling more than you could imagine, so familiar it was the clearest thing he could remember. Joel had felt this way for years, but he was an adult. He had people relying on him, he couldn’t shut down in the way he knew you wanted to.

“We’re not gonna die,” Joel said, hesitantly. It was stupid to make promises in this world, especially when danger and the unknown lurked around every corner. “We’re all goin’ to be just fine. Listen to me, kid, we’re gonna get this done, and then we’re all gonna find somewhere, no infected, and we’ll just live. But we need to get through this, first.”

You shook your head, turning away from him, and he glanced to where Ellie stood, the guilt flooded onto her face.

“You two listenin’?” Joel asked, beginning to pick up your things and shove them into your backpack. “We’re getting close now. It’s almost over. Got nothin’ to worry about.”

“He’s right,” Ellie said, quietly, passing Joel something to put in your bag. “Let’s just get this over with.”

They packed up your things around you, Joel grabbing your arms to help you to your feet, and Ellie linked arms with you as soon as you were up. Together, they managed to get you out of the cabin, back out into the cold.

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You had been so sure that one of you was going to die when the people on horses showed up, guns trained on each of you in turn. You thought it was going to be Joel when he shoved you and Ellie behind him, his head spinning around, taking count of the people who were a danger to you.

Then, they brought out their dog, and your heart stopped when they directed it towards Ellie. It was going to be her, you were almost sure of it, thought that it would get a whiff of something from the bite scarred over her forearm.

You held your breath for a long time, not able to let it go even when the dog settled, playing happily with Ellie. Surely, these people would shoot you, regardless. They certainly didn’t seem very friendly.

But no, they were taking you back to their town, with you and Joel sharing a horse while Ellie rode on her own. You’d never ridden on a horse, and before, you may have enjoyed the experience, but you could only feel that suffocating fear that made you choke on your words, so scared that these people were taking you to their town just to kill you. Or worse. You’d heard of people who do worse.

You couldn’t get the words out to express your concern to Joel, forced to stay silent and cling on to him as the three of you made your way past the walls, surrounded by strangers. You shared a look with Ellie, that nervous understanding shared between the two of you once more.

Your fingers twitch, aching to wrap around your gun, but that was the first thing these people had taken. Then it was your knife. And then the axe Joel had you storing in the side of your bag. It didn’t help that helpless feeling, that fear clogging your throat.

Joel’s tense frame loosens suddenly, something like relief sinking into his bones as he shouts, “Tommy!” A man immediately looking up from where he was stood atop of some scaffolding. Joel slides off of the horse, handing the reigns to you, before meeting his brother halfway in a tight hug.

Ellie frowns, and you understand the furrow to her brows as you looked at Joel and his brother. He was all the two of you had.

The two of you stick together as you follow Joel to wherever his brother is leading the three of you, sharing nervous glances and only just about relaxing when you’re seated with hot meals in front of you.

You did your best to tune as much of the conversation out as possible, even ignoring Joel’s comment about slowing down, as you shoved as much food as you could into your mouth while the opportunity was there. After all, who knew how long this would last?

Ellie kicked your leg when Tommy mentioned about a tour, the two of you reluctantly leaving your plates behind to follow the three adults. Maria went on with her touring speech, talking about when and how they settled in the town, with Tommy pitching in about the shared resources. It was only when she talked about separating you and Ellie from Joel that your attention was really caught.

“Joel.” You said, urgency in your voice, a pleading look sent his way as he wrung his hands together, his brother already heading in his direction.

“You’ll be fine.” He said to you and Ellie, nodding in your direction and missing the look of defeat you and Ellie shared as he walked away.

“Shall we?” Maria asked, looking between you and Ellie. She was half-turned away already, but caught the way you both gazed nervously at Joel’s turned back. The two of you nodded, following behind her as she made her way through the town, clearly as familiar to her as the back of her hand.

Ellie answered all of Maria’s idle questions whilst walking alongside her, though her answers were slightly withdrawn. It comforted you, even the slightest bit, to know that you weren’t the only one who was feeling distrustful towards this place. That you weren’t the only one on edge.

Maria opened the door to the house you, Ellie and Joel were meant to be staying in, swatting a hand in front of her face as dust rose up from the untouched surfaces.

“Homely.” Ellie commented, stepping around Maria to peek into the living room, and then the kitchen, whilst you remained beside the door with Maria.

“It’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm. And it’s got running water.” Maria said, despite this being more than any of you had had in a very long time. She smiled tightly at you, head dipping as she looked around. “Make yourselves at home.”

“When do I get my gun back?” You asked, probably the most you had spoken since your slight… outburst at the cabin, just a few days prior.

“Kids ‘round here aren’t armed. Nobody is.” Maria answered, eyebrows creased as she looked at you.

“Right, well I’m not a part of your commune, or whatever, so I want back what’s mine.” You replied, with more heat to the words than would’ve been considered respectful. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to care, though, because how were you meant to defend yourselves if you had no weapons? Especially considering Maria clearly didn’t want Joel here, and by extension, you and Ellie.

Maria sighed, a slight exhale from her nose, and you stepped away from her, looking towards Ellie, who stared right back at you with something nervous in her gaze. “We’ll talk about all this later, okay? How about you guys go take a shower, and I’ll grab you some new clothes.”

Ellie nodded, practically leaping up the stairs, and you heard doors slamming open until she finally found the bathroom, yelling an: “Aha!”

“There’s just the one shower in this house, but if you wanna have one now, mine and Tommy’s house is just across the street.” Maria offered, kindly.

“I’d rather wait.” You replied, voice snappier than you expected it to be, but you bounded up the stairs and flopped down in the first room you found.

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Ellie had taken forever in the shower, so it was a while before you finally took your turn. As much as you hated to admit it, the warm water cleared away much of your bitterness towards this place. It felt good. Finally being clean, properly clean, after going so long living off of what little you could take when travelling across the country. You hadn't had a shower like this since Bill and Frank’s — and you hated thinking of it.

Maria had been around earlier, bringing two piles of clothes hanging in each arm, dumping them on the bed outside of the bathroom Ellie had been showering in. You hadn’t acknowledged her, so she had nodded and left quickly.

You didn’t exactly enjoy feeling like you owed anybody anything, but you had to admit that slipping on the clean clothes that Maria had left felt good. Wearing the long sleeved t-shirt underneath a thick jumper was probably the warmest you’d been in a long time, not that you would’ve admitted that to anybody.

The small part of you that had been numbed for the past few weeks began to thaw, and you felt almost embarrassed of how you had treated Maria earlier on — despite you having every right to act in such a manner. So, with a huffed breath of annoyance, you decided to follow the note the woman had left, and made your way across the street.

She had shouted to come in almost as soon as you had knocked, and you opened the door hesitantly.

The first thing you noticed was the sound of hair scissors, and it sent a pang through your chest. Then you heard Maria and Ellie chatting, and followed the noise. The chalkboard in her living room caught your eye, and you frowned as you passed by it.

“What’s going on?” You asked, eyebrows drawn together as you stepped into the room to see Ellie putting up her short hair.

“Just a trim,” Maria said, waving the scissors in her hand, “You’re up next.”

She noticed the way you tensed, drawing your arms back up towards your chest as your eyebrows furrowed further. It was defensive, the way you immediately curled in on yourself.

“No, no, I— I don’t want my hair cut.” By you were the words missing from the sentence, going unsaid but not unheard as one of your hands reached up to hold onto the too-long ends of your hair. They were splintering, and unhealthy, but you couldn’t do it.

The last person to cut your hair had been Tess — a memory you treasured, held so close that it almost hurt to think about. It was one of those things that had come naturally at the time, but felt so taken for granted once Tess was gone. You could remember the evenings so clearly, one of the only times that she allowed herself to come across as something almost maternal.

It would feel like you were betraying her, her memory, to allow someone else to take scissors to your hair. It was a job that belonged to Tess, and Tess only. You pretended it didn't hurt, the length your hair had grown. She would’ve never let it get this long.

Maria frowned, but seemed to take your defensive words and body language for a good enough answer. She placed the scissors on the counter, an act of truce, if you had ever seen one.

“Okay,” She said, hands up in surrender, before she reached to the counter and grabbed the coat that had been laid there. “Here, put this on. We’re going to the movies.”

You had no choice but to do so, tugging the coat on and resorting to holding it closed with your arms folded across your chest when your fingers trembled on the zipper. Ellie glanced at you with a frown, and checked you were following her and Maria out of the door, just huffing out a small sigh as you closed the door behind you, hurrying to catch up.

Sitting around a bunch of kids was one of the weirdest things to happen to you. You’d spent most of your life surrounded by only Joel and Tess, occasionally Bill and Frank, hell — Ellie was the first person your age that you’d really spoken to. After everything the two of you had been through, being surrounded by children felt much stranger to you than being surrounded by adults.

You could understand adults, to a certain extent. Kids… were a different story. So transfixed on the movie projected on the wall ahead, which you couldn’t understand. You felt vulnerable, sat in the middle of the room. Out of the loop, even, as adults watched and chatted around the edges of the room.

It was why you went to find Maria whilst Ellie followed Tommy out of the place, confused on why she had brought you here. “What am I meant to be doing here?” You asked her, when you finally found her standing to the side, gazing at the movie.

“We’re at the movies,” She laughed, saying your name, “You’re meant to be watching the movie.”

“Why?” You asked, incredulously, because how did this help anybody? Watching fake people in an image against the wall might’ve fascinated you, but you were nervous. Paranoid. At any moment, they could have people breaking into the town, knocking down the walls, anything… so why waste time and people watching a movie? To you, it would’ve made more sense to have more of these people stationed as guards.

“Entertainment,” Maria offered, moving from where she had been leaning against the half-wall. “Whatever you wanna call it. You’re not out in the wilderness, anymore. You’re safe. Take some time, enjoy the film.” She told you, and you hated the sympathy that she held in her gaze.

You moved to say something, but followed Maria’s gaze to see Tommy walking back through the doors. Without another word to her, you were shoving your way through the crowd and pushing the door open, back out into the cold air.

By the time you found your way to the house on Rancher Street, both doors at the top of the stairs were tightly shut. You frowned, unsure why they would’ve shut them, and made your way up to the room Ellie was in.

“Ellie?” You whispered into the darkness of the room, seeing her turned away from the door as she lay on the bed. She was still, and remained quiet. With a sigh, you closed the door and crossed the hall, opening Joel’s door with the same results.

You tiptoed back downstairs, frowning as you laid a blanket across the couch, swatting the dust that rose to the air.

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Waking up to an empty house stirred the panic that you had been storing away. You felt frantic as you tumbled up the stairs, ripping the covers away from the unmade beds as if Ellie or Joel could’ve been hiding beneath them. But finding nothing just made everything so much worse, because what if you were right all along?

Anybody could’ve come into the house, caught the two of them off guard, and what could they have done? All of your weapons were taken from you, which meant no defence, and no deterrent.

You were ripping the kitchen apart before you could think to do much else, pulling drawers out and sending the dusty contents crashing to the floor. In the end, you found nothing of use — the sharp cutlery had long since been taken, leaving dust in the empty compartment that should’ve held knives.

Your last resort was the plate you had smashed against the counter, leaving a dent in the material upon impact. Blood trickled down your cheek from a minuscule cut, the result of a tiny piece of ceramic. You grabbed the sharpest piece of the plate in a gloved hand, and marched out of the front door.

Upon entering Tommy and Maria’s house, you were greeted with nothing but silence, despite the impact the door had made against the wall when you had opened it. A small piece of paper on their kitchen counter caught your eye, and you snatched it up.

Going to the stables first thing. Love you - Tommy.

The edge of the paper was crinkled, and you figured that Maria must’ve seen it already.

Your run to the stables was frantic, and not at all subtle. People stared as you practically sprinted across the town, almost slipping on patches of ice that blended in with the snow. “Slow down, girl!” Somebody had shouted at you as you passed, but you just gripped the sharp ceramic tighter, barely feeling the way it had begun to tear at your glove.

“Joel, Ellie!” You shouted, almost hysterically, as you finally saw the two of them. Ellie was already sat upon a horse, holding the reins as Joel spoke to his brother. They both turned to face you as you approached, an almost defeated look matching each other’s expressions. “What—What’s going on?” You asked, stumbling into Joel and feeling him grasp on to your shoulders to get you to finally stop.

Joel shared a look with Tommy, who looked back at him with what was almost sympathy.

“Kid, I…” He sighed, rubbing a gloved hand down his face as his speech trailed off.

“What?” You snapped, gripping the ceramic tighter.

“Listen to me,” Joel said, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he said the words. “Me and Ellie are heading to the University—”

“Let—Let me grab my bag.” You told him, trying to turn away but feeling his grip tighten before he turned you back to face him, a bracing expression on his face. He looked almost pained.

“You’re not listening!” He told you, sounding far too close to frustration. “Me and Ellie. Not you.” He repeated, watching carefully the way your furrowed eyebrows fell, something so similar to grief presenting itself in the way your whole expression fell apart.

You looked to Ellie, only to find her gaze averted, and shook your head as you turned back to Joel. “What? You’re— You’re what? Leaving me behind?”

“It’s not fair for us to ask you to—”

You cut him off, stumbling back and away from his hands, and watched as they fell from the air where they had held on to you. “It’s not fair?” You asked, trembling from something other than the cold as you looked at the only man you had ever trusted.

The ceramic in your palm fell to the ground, fibres of your glove clinging to the edges of it. Joel frowned.

“Not fair?” You repeated, at the sound of their silence. “You know what’s not fair, Joel?” You questioned, stepping forward to push your hands against his chest, feeling your chest ache when he did nothing to stop you. “Following you two, all this way, just for you to fucking abandon me!”

“We’re not abandoning you!” Ellie said, then, her voice sounding just as childish as the words did. Because if they weren’t abandoning you, what were they doing? They hadn’t even said goodbye — if it weren’t for you running out here, after waking up to find them gone, you might have never even seen them again.

“Yes, you are!” You yelled at here, feeling your throat clog up as your vision went cloudy, “And after everything…—”

You stared between them, waiting for them to have a response, but neither of them did.

“I lost everything, following you here. Everything! It’s all gone. Tess…” You trailed off, feeling tears bubble at the corners of your eyes as you said her name. It was a betrayal, more than anything. If it weren’t for this whole adventure, Tess would’ve been alive. Bill and Frank, maybe not, but Tess.

“That ain’t fair, kiddo, we—”

“None of this has been fair. None of it! And you—you were just going to fucking leave me! How’s that for fair?” You asked desperately, despite knowing that no answer they could give would be what you wanted. All of your fear over losing them, it had never considered that they may leave of their own accord.

Maria said your name, approaching from behind you, and you didn't flinch when she placed a hand on your shoulder. You missed the pain on Joel’s face at the way you allowed her to comfort you, but had moved away from his attempts. She pulled you a step back from him, and another, until she finally turned you away as your tears spilled over.

Tommy shook his head when Joel made a move to follow the two of you, and you pretended not to notice their gazes on you as they strode by.

“How could they just…” Your voice broke off at the edges, and you felt the haze to your eyes returning as you looked at Maria, the realisation that you were alone hitting you harder than any of your fear ever had. That was fear; a possibility of what could happen, whereas this… this was reality.

And your reality was that nobody loved you enough to stay.

PART TWO

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller angst #joel miller father figure #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #tlou imagines #tlou one shot #joel miller platonic #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #heartpascal writes

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (1) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

next chapter

prequel

warnings: ANGST, allusions to death/mental problems as a result of the games/trafficking, arguments, finnick had a savior complex, but reader also low-key has one, unedited, maybe ooc!finnick it's how I interpret him but maybe you don't, mentions of past breakups, may be more I didn't catch, no use of y/n, terms of endearment like my love, angel, sweet boy

1.6k words

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Snuggled up to his side on the couch is where you felt safest, even with the pit in your stomach as you waited for whatever cruel twist Snow would announce for the Third Quarter Quell. You could tell Finnick had been anxious too, even if he would never want to verbalize it. He'd spent the day finding an activity to keep his mind busy at every second, little home renovations he'd never spoken of before, catching more fish then you could possibly eat, bossing you around as he did each thing all of which was so him, but there wasn't a moment of peace. He didn't stop to just hold you or stare out at the waters, there was no time when he knew that this year being a mentor would be much more difficult.

You knew that too, you'd been doing it for less time then he had, but it was eating you up inside. Even though the day was nearly barren of sweet nothings or the usual honey of his voice, him holding you as you stared at the screen made all the difference. But then your world stopped.

“As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, on this Third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each District.” Snow’s voice was exactly that, cold and icy. You felt nauseous and dizzy the moment the words left his cocky, freezing lips. Then the warmth from Finnick was gone, leaving you just as frozen.

“Finnick-" You began almost robotically as he stood, exiting the room. He said something incoherently and you knew better than to follow him. Both of you dealt with things differently. It was a thought true and tested that he would pull away to handle and you would cling closer. You hoped that being with him for so long would remind him of the happy medium.

Feeling consumed by sadness, anger, and a tinge of selfishness for even wanting Finnick’s comfort when he had so much to process you rose from your position on the couch as you mechanically walked towards the bedroom. Hearing the front door slam shut you knew Finnick was long gone, off to seek the refuge of the oceans currents. The warmth of a singular tear straying from your eyelids brought a stark contrast to how you felt.

They say everyone deals with grief differently, so maybe that explained why you’d just continued with your might as normal. Nearly burning your skin off with the warmth of the shower, stiffly moving through your nightly skincare routine, doing the dishes Finnick usually insisted upon working on, and finally when you'd sat down at your vanity for the final steps of your bedtime routine Finnick had reappeared. 

“You can't go back." Was all he said and you stared at him somberly in the mirror.

“That's not your decision to make." It wasn't angry or malicious, it was just a sad truth. There was no control over any of it and quietly you cursed Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire for ever daring to defy the Capitol's rules. Even if you knew it wasn't her fault that Snow was harsh and cruel, maybe if she'd played safely like everyone else had you and Finnick could be still curled up on the couch chatting mindlessly.

“It can be, I can ask people to volunteer, you need to be safe.” He was like a flighty bird as he knelt down besides where you sat. You could tell he'd been crying by the bloodshot look of his eyes.

"My life isn't more valuable then anyone else's Finnick. That's not fair and you know it.”

"I don't care."

“Mags is too old, she deserves to be in peace when she goes, Annie wouldn't be able to handle that, and Ondine would say no and I wouldn't blame her.”

"You can't volunteer. You have to promise me that, I need you to promise me that.” His eyes were so desperate, so pleading and his hands clung to your knees. You felt your eyes brimming with tears as you shook your head.

"You know I can't do that.” It was true you wouldn't put poor, unstable Annie through that, Mags wouldn't survive, and Ondine probably could, but you'd be eaten by guilt if you let her. You doubted that you could be the victor once again, but it would be better than making any of them face it. 

Finnick hit the top of your table as he stood, “Goddammit, don't be stubborn about this, angel. I need you to stay here, you can't go back!" He was trying to hold back his own storm of tears which he was gulping down.

“Finnick, could you promise me the same thing? Could you swear to me that you wouldn't volunteer either?" He was silent and simply stared back at you. So you nodded and rose to your feet as well.

“That's different and you know it! There's been whispers amongst different Victors about rebellion and with this happening there has to be more imminent plans. I can be on top of them, angel, I can help end this." Your sweet, sweet boy who so vehemently needed to rid the world of the system that had hurt him so badly and so many others like him before it could do more damage.

“If you do that, if any of that happens. I need to be with you, Finnick. We can do that together, you don't get to just cut me out because you want to protect me. We're a team!” You made sure to keep your voice even, although all the built up emotions made you want to yell it all, to cry it out, and scream so gutturally that everyone would know what was happening.

"That's not fair." He repeated back at you, blinking away his oncoming tears. “I need you to be safe, to know you're gonna be okay. If I'm thinking about the future of the Rebellion then I can't be worrying about keeping you alive too.” His voice was harsher and louder, then suddenly you couldn't stop yourself from raising your voice to the same tone as his.

"I've won these before, Finnick, I'm not helpless! You have left me stranded before and I have dealt with it, and I won. I'm not some damsel you need to save.” The rational side of you knew that you were being unreasonable, but so was he. You did need him, you needed him so desperately that thinking of him is what had kept you fighting the first time around. You loved the fact that he didn't make you pretend to be all the things you were spouting out, you didn't have to act strong when you weren't feeling it and he would take care of you. But now, when it would be life or death, you didn't need that used against you.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. I know you can take care of yourself, but that won't stop the fear of you getting hurt from eating me up inside.” Suddenly his forehead was pressed to you're, it was so intimate and so soothing it was already balancing you out. You forced your voice back to the soft tone it had once held.

"Finnick if I'm here and the Rebellion you're planning happens, they'll come for me. Snow will make sure that I'm not safe, he could have me killed for being with Finnick the rebel. I would be safer with you then in the palms of the Capitol.” His hands caressed your face with heat that relaxed your tense muscles simply on impact. 

“I just want to come home to you." His muscular arms were wrapped around you as he whispered his confession and let himself fully break down with you. Sobbing down your back and suddenly you didn't feel your own tears. All of you just wanted to help him, to absorb with warmth and give it back to his tortured soul. Your sweet boy.

“I know." You said it so lightly it could have been lost in the breeze, but Finnick was tucked into you so tightly that he heard. “Can we just go to bed, please? I just want to be with you."

Finnick reluctantly pulled himself away from you only because he knew he could envelop you in the further safety of your blankets. “Of course, my love." He muttered as he pressed his salty lips to your forehead. The dilemma would be left here for now, but he would convince you. His brain and heart were still scrambling for any loophole to keep you out of the arena, as distanced from the rebel plans as possible, and as protected as need be from any and all who could pose harm. 

Even if you were strong, charming, and smart, the Capitol's Princess. He knew you were all he needed, you accepted him and his flaws so fully, so blatantly shared each crevice of your soul with him that none of that mattered because it was the domestic bliss that you were really built for, that you deserved. The life with the house on the beach, where kids could run around and you would garden that he would fight to give you, but couldn't allow any chance that could prevent you from getting there.

But it broke you knowing that he wanted to protect you so bad he didn't open up, that there was a lack of trust in what he said simply in omission. You wanted to protect him just as badly in a way he couldn't understand, you wanted to be consumed by his every moment. To be two halves of one whole in any way you could and you feared your own instability would show if he was gone. You'd hidden it so well when he was there to calm you, but as you held each other so tightly both of your thoughts were silly consumed with the threats of what was to come. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

more of this series to come because I have a lot of thoughts even though this part was shorter. thank you for reading and so many of you for the support! if you enjoyed them let me know by liking, reblogging, commenting, or any type of feedback. feel free to fill my asks with thoughts lmao because it's consuming my thoughts. love you guys 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #thg #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #wanda 💋 #finnick imagine #thg finnick #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair x you #thg fic #thg x y/n #thg x reader #thg fanfiction

[cr4yolaas]

second best (pt 2) — iwaizumi hajime

notes: at last, the heavily requested part 2 to this fic !! i really hope it met a lot of your guys’ standards — i tried my best to take as much of your requests into account ^_^ i rlly dislike m the flow of this … but hopefully u guys still enjoy LOL

tags: angst → (bittersweet?) fluff, depressive episode (reader), swearing (once), a longgg process of grief and healing and whatnot, alcoholism (only briefly), roommate! tsukishima, best friend! oikawa, tsukishima does NOT have feelings for you, not proofread and quite long

taglist (incl. everyone who asked for a pt 2 !!): @altumsomnum @gennaray @romanticandupsetting @multi-fandom-fanfic

it was tuesday.

a frigid air pierced your limbs and left you to rot away, with the windows shut tight and the door locked. there was no mistakening the dark bags hanging beneath your eyes or the flakes of skin peeling from your bottom lip, nor the soft pleas of your stomach or the iciness of your fingertips. you basked in eternal slumber and silence and darkness and whatnot, save for the ticks of a clock that was 14 minutes behind and the hum of the air conditioning.

you were not frightened in the slightest. the warning signs plastered on your flesh were no great concern, and you could not fathom the idea of having to function again. it was horribly consuming.

with a groan, you released yourself from bed, your legs trembling under the mere weight of the air. you avoided the collections of trash and clothes splayed across the floor, being careful not to disturb the peace that had formed over the past handful of weeks. the sight of the kitchen was much more refreshing.

you were locked in stasis. contrary to the comfort these walls once provided, they now served as a a form of imprisonment, designed to allow the grief and the sorrow and the anger and the guilt to coalesce and spill over. it was terribly suffocating — you wished to escape.

gently, you poured a cup of water (not that you drank more than a sip, anyways). a thought passed your mind.

you needed to leave.

sendai was a home you could not find solace in anymore. gone was the youth encapsulated in the mountaintops and the hidden pathways and the convenience stores, and no longer could you feel at ease when faced with the neighborhoods you familiarized yourself with as a child.

your new apartment was shared with an old face — one you had only seen glances of in high school, notorious for his glasses and upfront attitude. he bore no hesitance when taking you in. instead, he was grateful for your presence, as if splitting the rent with him had taken off his life’s burden off of his shoulders.

he was quick to set ground rules — laundry days were on saturdays, trash needed to be taken out on sundays, the dish washer had to be clear at the end of the day, all groceries were shared, so on and so forth. you weren’t sure if you could keep up.

it took one week for him to actually conversate.

“why did you come back here?” he questioned, with a tone that implied he knew of you for years upon years (which would be false).

you picked at the skin of your lip. “why do you ask?”

“no reason. just curious.”

in a burst of energy, you recounted the tales of your past life, one of love and youth and joy; of the old apartment, of your past hobbies, of hajime. his gaze was so distant that you weren’t sure if he was listening at all.

in return, he expressed brief apologies and turned the story to himself — he discussed his volleyball career, his teammates, how he felt somewhat disconnected from his high school friends. he did not care to mention the exhaustion riddled into the pores on your face nor the weakness of your voice. that was all you needed. a conversation, not comfort.

only an hour later did he remind you of his name — tsukishima kei — and it was only then that you realized you had moved into an apartment without taking any precautions whatsoever. he laughed when you informed him of the situation.

this was not yet a home, but it was a house. and that was sufficient.

a month had passed before tsukishima forced you to get a job. he was clearly not a fool — at some point (you couldn’t tell when), he realized you were paying off your share of the rent with your life savings, which irked him ever so slightly.

“do you plan on moving out and dying on the streets when you run out?” he complained, despite the concern laced in the fluctuations of his voice.

you began working at his former high school coach’s family store. the owner himself was welcoming — he didn’t question your circumstances nor your physical state, and merely mentioned in passing that he was “given a token of appreciation from a prized student.”

and so began the cycle. on weekday mornings, you would depart for work and tsukishima would leave for practice. occasionally, he would pack you lunch (“only because i had leftovers,” he’d say) or leave a can of coffee on the counter for you. you would work at the register until the amalgamation of students died down, and once you were left with an empty store, you would take a break and go on a walk (as requested by your boss). then, you would return in the afternoon to serve the same population of children, handing them their ice cream and their sandwiches and whatnot. when they all disappeared, the coach would let you free and dismiss you with a “good work today, let’s do it again tomorrow.”

returning home was your favorite part of the schedule. a majority of the time, tsukishima arrived later than you, leaving you to your own time until he came home with dinner and a drink.

it was a monotonous cycle, but enjoyable nonetheless.

“i’m cutting off the beer for a month,” tsukishima exclaimed one warm summer night. you left your room to see him collecting unopened bottles and discarding them in a trash bag with little regard. you could only frown.

“those are all going to waste, we haven’t even opened them,” you groaned.

there was no response from the man as he continued to clear the apartment of any alcohol, akin to a parent cleansing their child’s home. before you could protest any further, he shut the door behind him and the crashing of bottles against one another could be heard beside the building.

tsukishima re-entered the apartment with empty hands and furrowed brows. “what’s up with the shitty face?” you asked from the couch.

he clicked his tongue at your comment and bore no response, instead letting his eyes wander to the screen in front of you. the morning news was playing, as usual. and yet, it was so wrong.

the screen flashed to a familiar face, one clad with a slight grin and sweat spread over his skin. his hair had grown slightly and his complexion had darkened, evidence of his labor. but most of all, he looked happy. his eyes screamed with a passion you hadn’t seen before, and despite his haggard appearance, he seemed to be content.

you did not see tsukishima rushing to turn off the television. you did not see the screen turn black, and you did not hear the noise diminish. you did not see tsukishima’s face adjacent to yours.

“hey. let’s go outside,” he muttered before moving to pull you up and out of the house

a delicate breeze washed over you both. the sun began to kiss you goodbye, and the noon crept up in its wake, leaving both of you in the dark.

“he looked so happy,” you whispered. “i don’t know what i’m doing wrong.”

you watched tsukishima light a cigarette in your peripherals, his lighter evidently battered and marred from heavy use. he made no move to offer one to you. “you’re not doing anything wrong,” he spoke firmly, although you could tell he was struggling to formulate the right combination of words in his head. “he’s just… going along a different path.”

“it should’ve been us on the same path. i feel so stupid. he’s gone on to do such great things, and i… what am i doing?”

tsukishima didn’t push the conversation any further. you were grateful.

a week had passed before tsukishima told you he had gotten you a new job, one deeper in the city. on an early sunday morning, he presented a uniform and badge to you, your name imprinted on both. the effort made you smile.

at some point, a new cycle formed. the museum was a far cry from the run down family store, and tsukishima taught you how to welcome it with an open mind and open arms. he never did mention the exact reason for the new occupation, nor did he tell you why he was so adamant on enforcing routine in your life. nonetheless, you appreciated it.

the mundanity that your new job encapsulated was slightly more enjoyable than that of your former job. exploring the concrete rooms filled with statues and paintings and whatnot was a sufficient way to pass the time. every now and then, you’d catch your roommate detailing a specific sculpture to a curious visitor, the scene contrasting his typical behavior. not that you would ever mention it to him, though.

a new routine was not unwelcome, but it did not feel impactful anymore. you still burned blue in the night, your bones aching with reminiscence over a lost life. your hands and legs still knew tokyo; they still knew the morning commutes and the bustling cafés and the chirping crosswalks and your own home, one that had been so devastatingly haunted by grief. your heart still knew the morning calls and the evening texts and the handfuls upon handfuls of promises made on once solid territory, and yet, you knew to return to it was to betray yourself.

you missed iwaizumi hajime.

rather, you missed the life that you formulated in his presence, opposed to the shambles you had grown comfortable in now that you were back home. tsukishima had carved a clay pot for your worn soul, and yet you could not help but yearn for the comfort and stability and routine you established in a past life.

the soft padding of feet echoed outside your door. soft strings of light streamed under your door as your roommate entered the kitchen, his actions indiscernible as he maneuvered about carefully. you decided to step out to greet him.

a startled tsukishima turned around to face you. “what are you still doing up?” he interrogated, albeit not in offense. “it’s late. we have work tomorrow.”

“but i don’t want to go to work. i want to go home,” you protested. you felt childish all over again — the thirst for selfishness was one that could not escape you, even now. an overwhelming desire to be in control of your own life.

tsukishima furrowed his brows. “to tokyo?” you nodded. “okay… then let’s go to tokyo.” he paid no mind to the slanted smile that transformed your lips, instead opting to turn away and fill up his bottle. “but why?”

“i need to escape,” you sighed, as if releasing a burden that had been lingering for a moment too long. “i need change. i just- i feel so stuck. i need to live.”

he merely hummed in agreement before uttering a comment about your poor sleeping schedule and ushering you back to bed.

tokyo was a city of hopes and dreams and noise. the shift from sendai’s cicada lullabies and whispers in the wind to the incessant chatter and obnoxious roads of the city was significant — any pedestrian would notice the irritation on you and tsukishima’s faces.

the inn he picked was small, yet slightly more comfortable than your current abode. the owners were kind and your neighbors were quiet, save for the occasional drunk couple. it was a life you remembering living, but not one you yearned for any longer.

in the night, you would both visit various attractions and markets and restaurants, with tsukishima insisting on paying for your meals (“as thanks for getting a life,” he argued). for that handful of days, you bore a smile that you weren’t sure would grace your lips ever again, for there was an adolescence in the evening activities that mended the remnants of your spirit. you felt whole.

on the last day, you brought tsukishima to a ramen house nearby the inn and promised to pay for the meal. it was a tuesday, again.

for reasons you could not discover, that appeared to be one of the busiest nights for the establishment — moments after you had settled, a line began to form, and the tables were crowded with families and friend groups and dates alike.

amidst the composition of metropolitans stood a man you wished you didn’t have to see. as if it were punishment, he locked his eyes with yours, the shock in his complimenting your dread.

you watched as he excused himself from his group while ignoring the cheers and shouts about him “shooting his shot.” tsukishima observed in tandem, seemingly reading the situation from a distance despite sitting right across from you.

you noticed the bold athletic trainer embroidered onto his chest, and the fitted red shirt he wore that matched those of his team. beads of sweat compiled on his forehead — you weren’t sure if it was from the density of the room or his exhaustion or anxiety. a small part of you hoped it was the second option.

“hey,” he began. “can- can we speak outside?”

you could not help but oblige.

hajime seemed to have developed an obsession with fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. you noticed the frayed strands on a spot that aligned perfectly with his hand, and you nearly laughed.

he coughed into his fist before rambling. “i’m sorry. i know you definitely don’t want to see me, and it’s not wrong of you at all to feel that way, but i just- i’ve thought about you- no, i think about you every day up until now. i know i don’t deserve you at all, and me being here is probably super upsetting, but-“

“hajime.”

the way you called his name seemed to deteriorate him and his principles. you finally felt otherwise.

“i really, really, didn’t want to see you at all. i don’t even want the thought of you to pass my mind. i’ve built a life outside of you and i’m tired of you interrupting it.” you witnessed his heart, mind, and body freeze simultaneously.

“i- i understand that, i know, i’m sorry. i’ve been- i’ve been reflecting a lot recently and i’ve known i was horribly in the wrong and i’m ashamed to have done nothing about it, and i know this sounds really, really dumb but i wish i had just stayed with you for that extra day because- because i don’t think i can go any longer without you now that i have you here, in front of me. could we- can we at least… keep in touch?” he seemed to speak without limitations, akin to a leaking clay pot. he was distressed, evidently. but you no longer saw his face and thought of guilt and love and yearning; you held no space for him.

you shook your head gently. “hajime, i don’t want you in my life anymore. you achieved your dreams, and i’m working on finding mine. that’s how it was meant to be.”

if not for the small lamp above the two of you, you would not have noticed the tears spilling onto his face. you bore no sympathy — with a goodbye and a small wave, you left him in the alley with a heavy heart and saline tears.

to witness him before you had awakened the truth riddled in your sinew and bloodstream: iwaizumi hajime was no longer a necessity. a truth that had cowered away beneath guilt and fragility and shame had uncovered itself, and for once, you breathed a full breath.

oikawa seemed so vibrant on the other side of your screen, the argentinian sun kissing his skin almost perfectly. “…i miss you lots!! i’ll visit soon, maybe, and we can catch up and maybe go get coffee and then debrief and then…” he trailed off with an aloof grin, his words spilling out from your phone and reverberating around the living room. tsukishima stood in the kitchen, the sound of his deliberate chopping and washing contesting oikawa’s voice. “but anyways, i’ll see you soon! byebye!!”

you waved goodbye and hung up, leaving only the noise of your roommate’s cooking. a loud groan left his lips in the midst of his mixing, followed by a complaint about how irritable your friend’s voice was. you could only laugh.

gentle strings of moonlight spilled into the apartment through the kitchen window, the songs of the evening falling upon both of you and your shared comfort. tomorrow was your off day, granting you both an opportunity for an actual meal. tsukishima (begrudgingly) agreed to make your favorite dish, with the request that you’d make his favorite dessert next week.

“thank you for the meal,” you whispered. tonight would consist of good food and a relaxing night, and tomorrow would entail a day of rest and a weekly reset, along with another call with oikawa. with marred hands and a porcelain heart, you had managed at last to craft a solid life — steady health, steady friends, and a steady routine.

you would no longer be second best to anything, and that was sufficient enough.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fics #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima smut #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi fluff #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima haikyuu #tsukishima kei #hq tsukishima #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x you #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi headcanons

[tabbiwritesgenshin]

failing light | various

synopsis: how would they act when you die

genre: angst

word count: 1,119

a/n: I don't have anything interesting to say but can I add how baffling it is the support my previous post got? like damn, i went from 20 notes to 253. tysm y'all omg

Collei wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, to yell, her whole world had crumbled in only a few glances, yet she couldn’t. She was struck with both fear and shock, you were her most beloved person in the entirety of Teyvat, you were the only person who had shown her any love in a long while and now..you were just..dead. She could only stare at your body for what felt like hours until she eventually lost consciousness.

Eula clutched your body with all she had, she had to make sure your last moments were ones of peace. She tried her best to contain herself, to ignore her tears, to do everything she could to look strong for you, yet, she couldn’t. She was left as a crying mess as the concept of losing the only person who loved her dawned on her mind. 

Again she had lost, again Ei had weeped, again was someone else taken from her, again, she felt hopeless, like she had lost everything she held dear. She wanted to move on, she wished to maintain strong, that’s what you desired, that’s what she promised to you..yet she couldn’t. The pain was too much, the grief overtook her. Again would she retire to her Plane of Euthymia, again would she abandon everyone, again would she despise herself.

Ganyu was afraid, she was scared, terrified of the idea of losing you. She tried everything she could yet nothing worked. The half-Qilin tried every bit of knowledge she had on medicine to try to save you, even those used only by the Adepti, if she could, she’d even give out her life for you. Perhaps it was due to the panic of losing someone again, but during her numerous attempts to extend your life, she hadn’t accepted the fact that you were truly gone.

Kujou Sara was unfortunately experienced in the concept of loss and death so when you approached her with heavy battle wounds, she knew better than to panic. Her pain and grief were incomparable to whatever suffering she had seen before in her life, yet, she kept strong. She didn’t want you to pass in fear or sadness. The moment you died it shattered whatever facade was left in her. She collapsed onto the floor, still clutching your cold body. The mighty Tengu general of the Shogunate was lost..truly destroyed.

The skies were split and thunder roared as The Raiden Shogun weeped to your lifeless body. All semblance of hope..all happiness which she had ever felt in her life vanished as her eyes gazed at the ones which had given her so much with so little in return. No longer would the Shogun hold back against humanity, she would make all who dared harm her beloved pay, none shall be spared. All will suffer for the sake of eternity so no one she held dear would fear again.

Rosaria always acted like she didn’t care, Rosaria always acted like nothing mattered to her, even when she had someone to love, someone who loved her, she still acted with this cold exterior, yet, when she was faced with the news that the most significant person in her life had died every facade she had, every coldness in her heart, they were crushed as a sense of hopelessness would crush her like a boulder. Never again would that be a facade, after you had died, after she was left alone once more, that coldness overtook her heart and no amount of warmth could heat it ever again.

The Anemo Archon Venti would hold you on his lap as you slowly passed away, even in your last moments, his love was there to comfort you. Even after you were gone, he would not leave this position, even when you were buried, even when everyone thought you had died alone, even when everyone thought you two hadn’t even spoken to eachother, he would always be present in the place of your passing. Every night, every month, every year, he would sit there for hours at a time, drinking away as he talked to himself in only praises of yourself.

The Wanderer felt different, he was the creation of a god, mortals were below him, none were equal to him, he was above every single one of those worms, yet, there was one of those so called “worms” that for a single moment, for a brief second, could make him believe he was only a human, that he could feel happy, he could feel everything those he called below him could feel. There was only one person who could make him happy, only one person who could help him forget about his betrayals yet even them suffered, even them were hunted down due to his past, even them suffered because of him. Some would say, that the Wanderer, after so long, would return to who he was, even for a single minute, would enjoy murder once more.

He knew it would happen, a karmic debt was placed on Xiao a long time ago, he knew it, he knew that those around him would suffer because of it, but even then, the mighty conqueror of demons could also fall prey to the enticing and intoxicating love he used to think he was undeserving of. His more rational side was prepared for such an occurrence, of losing his most loved one yet deep down, he knew he wasn’t, he knew the moment you were at the brink of death, he would sacrifice his own to keep you safe..but he was too late, you were dead before he could heal you, before he could save you. Never before had the Yaksha felt such deep hatred, such unfeeling rage, so much was it that when he was done with his vengeance, when he had bathed in blood in the name of love, he felt nothing but a consuming sense of hollowness.

Zhongli grasped your hand with all the softness and grace he could have. He had a rather long talk with you, reminiscing about the fond times you two had, the love you shared, the pain and the happiness you had shared. He knew it would come to this, he knew that this would happen eventually. You were a mortal, a mere human, he was an archon, a god. Once you were gone, once time finally caught up with you, he couldn’t help but to shed a tear. Once again, none who would share his memories, once again, another loved one had been hit with time. Some could say that from that day, the enigmatic consultant of the Wangsheng funeral parlor seemed more distant, more cold, even.

#collei x reader #eula x reader #ganyu x reader #ei x reader #kujou sara x reader #rosaria x reader #raiden shogun x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #❥ tabbi writes ❥

[flanaganfilm]

hi mike, saw someone say your ask box was open and i came running! have you ever had any ideas as to how the crain family would be getting on now a few years later/what they're doing? it's always in the back of my mind wondering if creators also wonder about those sort of things themselves once their project has ended. thanks so much & hope you have a great day!

I do think about that. Quite a lot, actually.

The Crains took on lives of their own for me. I'd never written long form before, so it was the first time I lived with the same characters for that long, and for such extended arcs. Here's where I think they are, a few years later:

Shirley: I think that Shirley and her husband overcame her disclosure of infidelity. She'd been closed off for so long, after the series ended I think she found some peace in her life and opened herself up to her marriage. I think she also began to find kindness again. They ran the funeral home together, but Shirley found purpose in helping people handle grief and loss with empathy and kindness. Her oldest would be just about ready to start college now, and I think that would have her looking back and realizing that she always remembered her childhood as seemingly endless... but now she sees just how fast it truly goes by.

Luke: Luke stayed sober. He's six years into it now, and it's gone so well that he's also become a sponsor. That doesn't mean he's immune to the struggle, far from it. He still walks up to that edge sometimes. Oddly, it's in those moments that the "Twin Thing" kicks in... and he feels an inexplicable and complete sense of love. He knows that's Nell's, and that always pulls him back from the brink. He never did find Joey, or find out what happened to her. And sometimes he still wakes up with nightmares that he's on the floor of the Red Room, or that Joey visits him with her runny-egg eyes. But no matter how hard it gets, he feels what Nell feels for him... and that always pulls him through.

Theo: Theo and Trish got married, and moved far away from New England. They currently live in Portland. She still works with children, but enjoys a much smaller patient pool. She specializes in the kids who are hardest to reach, and she's sought after for her unique and uncanny ability to connect with them. She doesn't wear gloves anymore, but she still avoids the very crowded places. She and Trish take long hikes, grow their own pot, and travel frequently and spontaneously. They're considering a surrogate... and if it's a girl, they're going to name her Eleanor.

Steven: Steve and Leigh have two kids, and are thinking they might stop there. He never wrote about what happened at Hill House, but he still writes. Science fiction. Leigh recommended the genre as a way for him to focus on the future, not the past. He likes it a lot. It's pulpy, but it's earnest. He maintains Hill House, as it is his responsibility, but he doesn't enter the property beyond the gates. He has a rotating collection of people service the property itself, always during the day, and only for a few hours at a time.

Hill House stands quietly and silently in the hills. There is something different about it. Still the same energy, but without the malice. Steve assumes this is because of Hugh, Nellie and Olivia, who maybe curb the most malicious energies of the house from within. While shadows still walk in the windows at night, there are no living souls there to see them. Mostly, Steven imagines the spirits inside spend most of their days sleeping. And if they cannot sleep, he imagines Mrs. Dudley singing softly to them on the wind.

There is grief, for all of them. There are nightmares. Horrible dreams of moldy rooms and phantom hands. They meet twice a year, usually without spouses, to catch up and raise a glass to Nell, and their parents. There is a lot of healing still to do, a lot of therapy, a lot of introspection. But there is peace, too. There is love. There is forgiveness.

#the haunting of hill house #does this count as fanfic? #epilogue

[libertyybellls]

OUT ON THE SEA WE’D BE FORGIVEN !

pairing; finnick odair x victor!reader

summary; you have had everything drained from you- but there is one thing the capitol cannot take from you and it's the love you and finnick share.

contains; ANGST, parent death, death, descriptions of death, grief, sadness, comfort, murder, forced prostitution, TW president snow being president snow. no happy ending womp womp.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

your world was spinning, your mind was fuzzy, your stomach was doing flips. you'd been in the same position- curled up in the corner of your living room in the victor's village.

your eyes could no longer water- you couldn't remember how long it had been since president snow and the peace keeps had left your home. you couldn't move- you think you remembered that the sun had risen and fallen while you sat in the same spot.

your door bursts open. had you locked it? had you even stood up once?

"mags told me the peacekeepers were here? snow was here?" finnicks frantic, he's horrified, he grabs your hands- stopping them from fiddling with each other. you didn't even realize you were doing so.

you hadn't even looked at him, more so trying to render what had happened yourself- explain it was the least of your concern.

finnick places a hand on your shoulder now, he's desperate- eyes almost begging yours to face him. “y/n. peacekeepers, snow, what happened. are you ok?”

you look at him when he says your name, it is then that your heart starts racing. your parents are gone. you will never see them again. they're gone and they still couldn't protect you in the end. you're still so young.

you are a failure. you deserve what's coming at this point. you must have expected this.

you blink and you can see snows face, his manipulative, evil, face. you can hear his words. you can feel your heart drop all over again.

you swore he was feigning a threat the night of your victory tour- how he told you how desirable you were, how the capitol citizens swooned over you during your initial interviews. so innocent, so pretty.

where would this innocence get you now? when you denied his suggestions, when you told him you wouldn't sell yourself. did you really think you would have the upper hand? that you gained this right because your survived? because you killed so many people merely for a game to the upper class?

you knew he'd threatened you. he'd even said it himself- there would be repercussions. you're so careless. he'd told you their blood was on your hands. your mothers blood was on your hands. your father was buried due to your shortcomings.

and now, all of the bloodshed- for nothing. when snow had mentioned finnick- briefly before he left. you almost cried, almost.

this time you knew he wasn't lying. and you couldn't let him take everything from you. you'd agreed to the thievery of your innocence, your dignity.

you were now a doll for the capitol- theirs for the taking. they could have you when they wanted. all you'd have now was finnick. "they killed my parents finnick,”

your voice was low, the words were foreign to you. "they killed my parents and now their threatening to kill you.”

he didn't need to ask who, or for what. he'd known since the moment you came out of your games alive. why didn't he warn you? would it have helped?

he was scared himself. scared that if he told you your probabilities of getting sold that they would come true. some part of him thought that if he had that dirty reality away it would cease to exist.

he pulled your head into his chest, still in the floor. "it's not your fault princess. this is not your fault.”

you shook your head and pulled away from him. “this is my fault finnick. i did this to them."

"you didn't know-" his own heart was breaking.

"i knew!" your voice was getting louder by the second. “i knew and i thought i was- that i was better than that. that i could escape it." your words were broken up, voice unsteady, cheeks now damp with tears.

“this is what he does, sweetheart. this isn't your fault. he wants you to think it is but it's not.” his hands were on your face wiping away your tears. "snow wants you to blame yourself- to think you've ruined it all for nothing. but you haven't.” he wants to tell you it will all be okay, that it gets better- but how would he know? you are now two sides of the same coin.

you want to be better, to believe him, but you don't know how to try.

-

hopefully 2024 will bring happier blurbs from me but for now this is all i got. last post of the year!! love u all thank u for the love and i hope u all have a blessed new year! mwah😇

as always, reqs r OPENNN! use em!!!

#finnick angst #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick imagine #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader #finnick oneshot #finnick smut

[thefirstknife]

The thing about the final lore tab is that, besides the fact that I'm devastated in ways I can't put into words, the way Saint was affected by this whole thing is unique.

This is obviously primarily Osiris' trauma that we can't really properly comprehend, but Osiris wasn't fully conscious for most of it. It fell to Saint to wait, and hope, that Osiris would be brought back and that he would wake up. There was no certainty for him there. And even before that, he watched "Osiris" being strange and distant and acting weird but obviously nobody could even begin to speculate that the person he interacted with wasn't Osiris at all, so the trauma went from there, from learning that he lost Sagira, then to the shock of Osiris being kidnapped and then the quest to bring him back and then him being brought back in a coma and then the 9 long months of waiting until he woke up.

The state of constant anxiety he experienced for almost 2 years total is nervewracking and gutwrenching. I don't think we can fully understand the impact of that on someone. And the best, or worst, thing is that Saint is infinitely patient. He is infinitely emotional and merciful and opts to be the better person and to wait and wait and wait. And hope that it can be fixed.

Except it can't. It can't be fixed. And not only can it not be fixed, but there will never be justice for it. It's impossible. There isn't a way to truly punish Savathun for what she's done. There is no relief or catharsis for Saint. While Osiris can mostly move on, Osiris did not really have to go through what Saint had to go through. Their traumas are different and Saint's is the type that no one can really understand and there is nothing he can do about it.

A younger Saint would've killed Immaru and then Savathun, 100%. But now he can't, because he isn't that person anymore. And yet, the grief and trauma remain and he has no outlet for them and nothing that can be done to enact any sort of justice. So he settles for pure rage, letting himself essentially vent that anger out, but still leave everyone alive. And there's really no true release here. He got a brief satisfaction of killing Savathun over and over, but at the end of the day, she will walk away and nothing will change and there will be no fix.

Which is why he comes back and just cries. As he said, this wasn't for Osiris, it was for him. It was his outlet for anger and nothing else. After that, there's nothing else left to do but cry. No one can really help him carry the burden of what he's gone through and besides: he's a Titan. He's the one carrying other people's burdens. Which just added to the trauma because for so long he's only cared for others, mostly for Osiris, and never really let himself fully grieve or talk about it. Saint never really processed the horrifying ordeal of constant concern for his loved one, then the realisation that his loved one isn't even with him, then the desperate search and then waiting for months and months for the hope that his loved one might wake up. Then Osiris is awake and we're forced to play allies with the person who traumatised both of them in an incomprehensibly terrifying way. Saint had no other way of attempting to make his peace with the situation.

Year of processing grief. I'm in shambles.

#destiny 2 #destiny 2 spoilers #season of the witch #season of the witch spoilers #saint-14 #osiris #o14 #i haven't stopped thinking about this and i never will #i genuinely cried like a little baby reading this #the whole time of this ordeal it's been told through saint's patience and devastation about the situation #so we know just how much he stretched his limits here #again. a younger saint would've gone apeshit months ago #but now he has a limit and he's more patient than ever and literally no one can help him #i'm in tears over this man he doesn't deserve any of this bullshit #i could go on for approximately 17 more hours about this #if i see savathun again she will die by my hand

[thosewildcharms]

Just broke my own heart thinking about Rick being absent for Lori’s pregnancy with Judith since he was, understandably, emotionally checked out AND being completely absent with Michonne’s for RJ and how he missed welcoming them both into the world, plus not seeing them grow up as he said, for a man that only cares about his family he must carry so much guilt over that or feel cursed… also thought about Michonne probably being extremely anxious when RJ turned the age Andre was when he died and she had no one to talk to about it. Thinking about her having to deal with it all while being a grieving single mother of 2 leading a community also made me sad. lol I know they’re both resilient fighters but damn all of that is so heavy! I’m so happy they’re all back together now and can start some healing

ANON BESTIE WHAT THE FUCK?

well okay sure. let's be depressing for a bit but then we should go back to grimes family headcanons okay?

it's honestly so tragic that rick was not able to see the birth of the child he wanted so badly, that he didn't even know RJ existed for almost a decade. the length of that time jump is honestly so evil - like yes, on one level it heightens the intensity of their bond, the way that they never even considered anyone else over all those years and stayed completely in love throughout that absence and distance. but god, it's just a really fucking long time. it's devastating!

it's also why I love that scene in the towl finale where rick expresses how angry he is about it, how just for a minute he lets himself say out loud that he just wants to be selfish for once and say fuck it let's go home, because he doesn't want to miss any more time than he already has. i also love the way andy played the reunion with judith and rj: the quiet grief in his face because he's mourning the time lost even while they're right in front of him, maybe even more so. like, of course he was distraught over how much he missed. this man held a shard of glass to his neck when he truly thought he could never see his family again (which i think we moved on from a bit too quickly tbh). his love for his family is his motivation for everything. keeping him away from them is the worst thing you could do to him, which is btw is why i'm not mad okafor is dead.

as for michonne. well my god anon did you have to go there with that andre/rj thing? i mean, yes you're absolutely right and you're completely brilliant but jfc that hurt. i honestly can't even think about those six years michonne spent grieving rick and raising their kids and protecting that community and getting that scar and everything else without getting upset. i genuinely hate it so much. i'm also constantly thinking about the scene where she finds evidence that rick is alive, the specific way her face contorts as she holds that phone like she's scared to even dare to hope, even though she never fully believed he was gone in the first place. we already saw how much she was struggling but that scene makes me want to set myself on fire. it's all just so fucking sad.

so yes. they better be left alone to heal in peace forever no more Situations no more near death experiences no more wars or fascist megalomaniacs with armies to overthrow. they've done enough!

#richonne #the ones who live #side note anon: #i'm a bit confused about what you mean by rick being absent for judith's birth because he was emotionally distant #like yes he was obviously but am i remembering incorrectly or did lori give birth unexpectedly while the prison was under attack? #like i thought he was straight up just unaware it was even happening. i like to think he would have been there if he knew/was able #but maybe i'm giving him too much credit lol #or am i just being obtuse and that's exactly what you're mean by him feeling cursed? because he missed both due to ~circumstances? #not arguing with you btw because i agree either way he's prone to emotionally self-flagellating i'm just wondering if i'm missing something

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Really, we shouldn’t be surprised by now but I have more amazing jily AU fics to share because the writers of this fandom are incredibly talented and I have my screen report to prove it.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

serendipity by desperateforsanity (on ao3)

Modern college/uni AU. Dearest Students and Staff, I am pleased to announce Hogwarts University’s fourth annual Pen Pal Program. Upperclassmen and sophomores likely remember and cherish the memories of their previous penpals and are excited to make another friend this year.

TW: for the later chapters for discussions of grief and its effects on one's mental well-being. For the most part, though this is a fun fic full of great banter!

The Frenzied Misadventures of Balcony Man and Window Woman by @clare-with-no-i

prompt: "It's 3am why are you outside my window- are you trying to rob me?"

It feels necessary to preface this entire thing with the fact that, yes, James had good reason to be dangling precariously from a third-floor balcony, and anyone who says differently is simply attempting to smear his good name.

At least, that’s the story he’s sticking to.

Hijinks & Shenanigans

mellow is the man (who knows what he's been missing) also by @/ clare-with-no-i

Earl's Court. 24th May, 1975. Led Zeppelin live in concert like you've never seen them before.

FEATURING: prolonged eye contact, deeply metaphoric descriptions of cigarette smoke, painful levels of detail about makeup, and a special one-time performance by Two Teens In Love! OR: the "we made eye contact at a Led Zeppelin concert but my friends pulled me away to mosh before I could come say hello" AU

So when I say that I saw this unfold frame by frame in my head, I mean the writing is on another level. The way that I could almost smell Earl Court ... I regret waiting so long to read it. Also, found out this is written by the same author as one of my favourite jily fics foreigner’s god so that explains it “I'm not a religious person but I do sometimes think God made you for me.” ― Sally Rooney, Normal People

but he’s a little bit too far away by @firefeufuego

Historical AU. A decade after they met as cadets for The Times, the toll of James chasing stories in war zones is starting to hit home for Lily.

Taking A Shot At You by @annabtg

Modern AU. Lily Evans, pharmacist, has to work all day and night on New Year's Eve - and ends up ringing in the new year with a bloke who just got himself a dog bite.

The Right Track by BeeDaily (on ao3)

Co-workers modern AU. When James is first handed the train ticket, his immediate reaction is to laugh openly in his father's face.

the horoscope by lirians

Modern AU. James stops momentarily to give way to a bunch of rambunctious teenagers on the pavement before he regains his step. Lily has come to a halt a bit further, waiting on him.

“Horoscopes?” he asks as they move onwards. He’s relieved that any awkwardness between them is apparently gone. “How so?”

“Marly sent me mine this week because it said I would meet someone from the past again,” she explains. “I’m still not sold on the idea of it, but isn’t this weird?”

I was inspired to read this by this art

The Falcon and The Squid by @jfleamont

There's a Lego Millennium Falcon that needs to be built. There's also a bet, a ring and a bike.

Put it all together and what do you get?

Leda's jily will always be a favourite of mine. They're idiots in love your honour

Glastonbury by elanev91 (on ao3)

Prompt: we're at a music festival and you crawled into my tent when drunk and fell asleep, now you've woken up bewildered and to be honest I should be more annoyed but you're just so good looking

One Day at Time by @sweeethinny

Single-mum-lily AU. One day at a time is the mantra Lily uses to keep peace inside her mind, but there are days when it's simply impossible and in the end all she needs is a glass of wine, a cozy hug with her boyfriend, and a serious talk with her son.

Note that you can read this as a stand-alone one shot but it's part of a series that takes place in this AU

For All My Life by aheartcalledhome & SecondJadeofLan (on ao3)

When saving the bees ends in a happy family.

pumpkins and blueberries by evotter (on ao3)

Modern soulmate AU. In which Lily Evans hates puzzles, Marlene McKinnon is a coffee-making goddess, and the stuffy manager with the unkempt hair just so happens to be Lily's soulmate. In the wise words of Mary Macdonald, nothing is scarier than a relationship. Especially if it's with your soulmate.

After Moon by lovesickjily (on ao3)

When the universe sent Lily back in time for some inexplicable reason, she didn’t realise that she’d fall for the charming, messy-haired Prince along the way, nor did she realise that she’d see him once again.

here's to never growing up by elixirsoflife (on ao3)

Chat fic where a group chat documents the lives of four highly dramatic teenage boys as they navigate their A Levels.

Or, like, die trying.

Okay, I rarely ever read chat fics, they're just not my thing. BUT this one had me wheezing on my way to school. It's crack. Just treat it like crack

Ice Baby also by elixirsoflife

Modern college/uni AU. In his defence, James never expected to meet his soulmate at thirteen minutes past eleven on a Sunday morning when he’s aiming a puck at Sirius’ balls.

Or: call me sweetheart again and I'll punch you in the throat.

Not a Clue by PotterandEvans (on ao3)

Modern college/uni Quarantine AU. Lily stood in the doorway of the flat, looking at the boy in front of her. She had spent most of the last two years keeping her distance from the annoying piece of work, staying away from his ego mostly. “Come in.” She said, stepping away from the doorway to let him into the flat that she usually shared with Remus.

"Ah, so kind." James muttered as he walked inside, his heavy bag weighing him down. This really was not the ideal situation, for either of them. But he had nowhere else to go, so staying with Lily Evans it was going to have to be.

they were zoommates (requires an ao3 account) by elanev91 (on ao3)

Modern college/uni Quarantine AU. Lily's on lockdown and, because she can't help herself, signs herself up for a whole bunch of extra (and free) work with her ad agency. Minerva, her boss, assigns a cheeky social media manager to her team to help her. Also, Marlene discovers TikTok (this is nowhere near as important to the narrative as its inclusion here suggests).

And You Heard About Me (Ooh, We’ve Got Some Big Enemies!) by @wearingaberetinparis

Fame AU. Lily Evans is a Grammy-winning singer-songwriter and global superstar, who recently broke up from her latest and long-term actor boyfriend Amos Diggory. James Potter is a professional football player who plays as a forward for Manchester United and has never been quiet about his celebrity crush: Lily Evans. When Lily Evans thus plays at Wembley Stadium - a place he is more than familiar with due to his being part of the England team - he just has to go and see her perform, embracing his inner, besotted fan boy, while the woman on stage is completely oblivious to his presence. Or is she?

The most unrealistic part was man u winning (but it's James so that explains it). Regardless, I started this fic while waiting for my final grades from last year to come through, and while they were disappointing, this sure wasn't. I was crying so hard that I fell asleep. Then I woke up and continued the fic and suddenly I was giggling along with Lilly. Anything and everything Mary writes is a masterpiece. Thank you for sharing this wonderful story.

it continues (the beginning doesn't matter) by whitesunlars (on ao3)

She is the last person he expected at his door at that exact moment, despite feeling unsure about the fact that she managed to track down his address, he agrees to go out to coffee with her. A lot could be said about James Potter, but nobody could claim that he had good self-preservation skills.

They meet in a bar. Mistakes happen. They learn to keep going.

#jily fic rec #jily #jple #lily evans #james potter

[n0tamused]

Broken Memories

Genre: angst

A/N: More older stuff to post, hope you all enjoy. I did a quick proofread but knowing me I'll just say that there still may be some grammar mistakes :p

Lofty clouds sail over the Xianzhou Lofu, welcoming some distant warmth to befall the people after what felt like years and years worth of rain. Fresh air brings in the freshness which the rain left behind, feeling like a new slate of paper ready to be written on, but Blade just watches on in solemn silence. Tendrils of pain and ache make its way through his body in steady, continuous waves, not letting him relax, but not letting him move either. For him, only the present moment exists, and in a twisted way he is forced to accept it. His life knows no end, so he makes scarce peace with the present.

Remembrance of days already long and gone make their way to his head, when white locks fell down his back instead of raven black, and when he had friends to speak off, company to talk to, and dreams to dream about. In the long faded and broken memories he sees himself, Yingxing, strike a hot piece of metal over and over again until he gets it to the desired dimensions. Deft hands grab onto the pincers and tools and a bucket of cold water to mend the metal, and the process flows on effortlessly under his watchful gaze. Yingxing feels even more anxiety pool in his chest unlike he usually feels, his gaze fixated on carving the blade to have a more intricate design - this was no ordinary blade in the end, made to be given to some soldier or some higher up as compensation, no - it was a gift. It had to be perfect. Beyond perfect.

The dagger was curved and elegant, and in his hands it demonstrated to perfect balance between the point and hilt, and many little details were put into it in colors of gold and rose gold, your favorite gemstones, your favorite color in the leather grip, your favorite shapes, and about anything else he could incorporate into the dagger without overthrowing its aesthetic and its practical use. It shines beautifully under the pale sunlight, the rain clouds drifting away after days worth of rain. Yingxing smiles at his work, lifting it up above his head until he sees the reflection of his own eyes in the blade, full of mirth and under one eye there’s a smudge of charcoal. He can’t help the pride that makes his chest swell, and neither can he afford to wait for the following day to give it to you. So he makes quick work of packaging the blade and following the narrow roads, searching the entire city until he finds you and just gives the gift to you right then and there, in broad daylight with little introduction. Red paper is wrapped around the wooden box, not in the most skilled way, but in a caring way, and he relishes in the compliments you rain down upon him when he explains what it is, or even why he gave it to you. For once he feels really seen. His life-long mission is for once cast aside in favor of admiring this little side quest he ventured upon. And he feels like he could throw everything away if it meant seeing your joy every day. That evening you have invited him back to your home, served him tea and shared your events of the day, along with more passionate comments about the gifted dagger. 

Blade sighs, remembering your smile, your face, and he remembers how different it now looks in his distorted memories. He is forgetting.. He knows the face he sees in his memories is not the one he knew, he feels it in his bones and in his blackened heart. There is just something missing. The visage of his eyes can’t focus on your face nor the details of your clothes or your hands when they gripped his.

The broken dagger in his lap is unfixable - Yingxing is no longer here to mend it as before. Blade can only hold onto the essence of its memories until the whole world goes dark, and that says plenty of his grief and regret. His chin tilts down to look at the dagger, his finger jabbing at the broken blade as if it was a foreign object to him, something extra terrestrial, as if he didn’t pour his heart into it decades before. Perhaps he did pour his all into it, maybe that’s why the dagger followed the same fate as he did, as the smith poured a piece of his soul into his art. He can only hope the dagger does not represent you.. he hopes you’re out there, somewhere, happy, healthy, alive..

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

#-better an arrow than you #blade x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #blade x you #blade x gn reader #blade x yn #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #angst #x reader #xianzhou luofu #honkai x reader #honkai star rail imagine

[moonlight-tarot-11-11]

Good Omens Tarot Reading!

Let me know if this resonated ♥

Pick An Image:

1. 2. 3.

Pile 1:

Song: Lucky Again - Louis Tomlinson

You're going to/doing something that you're excited about! You're not sure where it'll take you, but you're excited. There is some nervousness/anxiety about this. It's something you don't have much experience on it haven't done in a long time. You're scared of all the what ifs. The message for you is that as long as you TRULY WANT to do this, then everything will turn out great! Doesn't mean your worries will go away, but it does mean that most, if not all of them, won't come true. Most of this is mental. You'll grow and learn so much and most likely make meaningful connections. Don't let fear stop you from enjoying your time and doing something you're excited about. Enjoy the ride!

Pile 2:

Song: You Broke My Heart Again - Teqkoi, Aiko

You're going or have gone through a heartbreak recently. Doesn't have to he romantic. Things have ended with something/someone you love. Most of you were unaware that this ending waa coming so when it did, it hit you cold and out of nowhere. There is separation and grief. The message here is to let time take the hurt with it. You don't have to rush your healing. You'll heal naturally with as things pass, but when the time cones to let go of it, fully let go. Feel what you must then let suffering pass. With the Queen of Angels/Wands, you come back into your power after that and ready for the world. After an end, there's always a beginning and for you it'll most likely be something new. Don't forget or neglect nourishing yourself. Be patient and have some compassion for yourself. You won't miss a thing. Take your time, then when you're ready, move.

Pile 3:

Song: Devil Mode - Stiletto, AViVA

You are straight up vibin and some people seem pressed by It.. You're doing what you want and enjoying yourself, but some people around you disapprove that. Things are going good, they're moving and from the outside, it looks like you put no effort. The message for you is to keep your business close to the chest. Keep it private. Only share with those that you KNOW and FEEL want the best for you. Others might want to start conflict, but just continue on your own mere way. Unbothered and paying no mind to them. Protect your energy and your peace of mind. Some of you have been thinking about blocking someone/some people. You should. This is your sign to block them. Now, continue living your best, unbothered life!

#astrology observations #tarot #tarot reading #pick a card #pick an image #good omens #tarot deck #tarot cards #moonlight readings #pick a pile

[lanitalay]

One Day : Chapter 5

Azriel x reader, based on the Netflix series by the same name

a/n: I haven't forgotten about AFAS but this one is so comforting to write. Also a master post for this series sis on my todo list I just haven;t gotten around to it.

warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, a lil fluff

Word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

You were sitting beside Elain as you had done every morning since the Archeron sisters had arrived at the Night Court. She was no better than yesterday or the day before that. She ate very little and she was almost fighting against breathing. You had never seen anything like it, her body perfectly healthy but her mind… you imagined she was filled with rage and sorrow and grief for her past life. Not that she gave you much of an indication.

Being with Elain was calming in a way, she didn’t move much. You encouraged her to change positions every so often so her muscles wouldn’t atrophy but that was it. Sometimes you thought that your friends assigned you to her because of how Azriel arrived from Hybern. How he was seconds away from death. How you could only say “but I just got you back” over and over as you and Madja worked on his wounds. How you didn’t sleep for days until his eyes opened. How flashes of his too pale skin would cause you to crumble because he looked like a corpse and if Azriel was gone… 

So you painted Elain’s nails,  braided her hair and told her stories of Feyre when she first arrived at the Night Court. You reassured her that she would be back soon and that the three sisters would be safe in Velaris. 

Your favorite story to tell her was of how her sister freed the fae from Amarantha’s reign. How, because of her blood and kin, peace was within grasp. You told her how it felt when Amarantha died and magic returned and the sky at the Dawn Court glittered with the colors of the rainbow. How Thesan arrived at his palace and told everyone in his court of the brave girl who saved them. You told her that you had basically given up hope because if salvation lay in someone falling in love with Tamlin... 

“I only saw him once or twice during the reign but he was the most un-charismatic male I have ever met, we’re lucky Feyre has such a beautiful heart.” 

You didn’t tell her that when you returned to your cottage after the announcement and the initial euphoria there was a tall male with giant wings standing at your door. His head turning the instant a shadow told him you had arrived. 

“I thought maybe you moved.” 

You couldn’t tell her that you ran and wrapped your arms around him. The last fifty years had been an ocean and, just then, you finally found your lifeline. He hugged your shoulders, bringing his head to the crook of your neck and breathed in your unchanging scent. 

After minutes of the embrace that put your heart back together you pulled away and inspected his face. Perfect. He was absolutely perfect. “Az… you’re here.” 

He nodded and grabbed your hands, noticing the way his thumb brushed over your ring finger. 

“Rhys is back home… and I had to make sure you were…” 

“I’m fine, the last five decades have been hell, but I’m fine. What about you?”

“I’ve wanted to say I’m sorry for so long, what I said that day-” 

“I know. You don’t have to apologize.” 

“I do. I was jealous and foolish and it has haunted me ever since.” 

“It’s alright Az, I just… I’m so happy you’re here.” 

The version of events Elain got was “once Thesan returned I knew someone would come for me.” 

You told her how Feyre also had a difficult time with being turned fae, that it was fine for her to take her time to heal. 

After lunch there would be a knock on the door. Sometimes it would be Nesta, sometimes Madja, sometimes Rhys but today it was Azriel. He had made a complete recovery and would often keep you company while you were with Elain. 

He handed you a bouquet of flowers. “Happy anniversary.” 

You felt your cheeks redden at the gesture. “You know it’s not until tomorrow.” 

“I felt like starting the celebrations early, you know, to make up for lost time.” Rolled your eyes as he grabbed your free hand, “come on.” 

Just then Nesta walked into the room, a novel tucked under her arm. “I can stay, y/n, go on.”

“Where are we going?” You asked as Azriel picked you up and launched into the sky. 

“You’ll see in a few minutes.” 

You landed on a little cove by the Sidra. “I figured you needed a break from the house.” You nodded and sat on the shore, your feet just touching the water. Gentle waves lapping at your legs. He sat down next to you. 

“You never told me what actually happened with Lenus.” 

“We just stopped loving each other… and he cheated.”

Azriel looked like you had just said something ridiculous “Lenus cheated on you?”

A nod “yep.”

“Lenus, glasses Lenus? Lenus the scribe?” 

“She was also a scribe. Get this, I caught them in the library.” 

“No you did not.”

“I most certainly did. Anyways, after that I put everything of his in a box and threw it away. Haven’t heard from him since.” 

“If I ever see him again, I’ll kill him.” 

“You don’t have to kill him, just remind me to never date a scribe ever again, please.” 

“Noted.”  

“Have you ever dated someone in the last fifty years?”

“No.” 

“Really?” You raise a brow at him. 

“We had to keep the court running, I was busy.”

“Yeah, yeah… Az?” 

“Do you think you have a mate?�� He looked up and thought about it. 

“I hope I do, but who knows.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” 

“Why?”

“Well I’ve been alive for so long and I haven’t felt it yet. But the Archerons were turned and immediately found theirs.” 

“But Rhys was over 500 when he met Feyre, so… there’s still hope. You’re what? 499? Still have one year to find them.” 

You splashed water on him “you’re so dumb sometimes.” 

You spent the rest of the day in the cove. But even the longest day of the year had to end so when the sun was setting, Azriel flew to your apartment. “Home sweet home.” He said as he put you down. 

“I haven’t been here in weeks, there’s nothing to eat.”

“Let's go to a restaurant then.” Azriel grabbed your hand and led you to a small place at the end of your street. You always came here when you wanted something with noodles. You were led by an employee to your usual table, a small booth near the back. Just big enough for Azriel to fit comfortably but hidden away from curious fae. 

You ordered what you always get and so did Azriel. While you waited for the food you took Azriel’s hand in yours, feeling his pulse, confirming it. “I still can’t believe you’re alive.”

That arrow was straight through his chest. 

“It’s going to take a lot more to kill me.” 

You lifted your gaze to meet his. His breath caught in his throat at the intensity, like a switch had flipped. “Promise me I’ll die first.” 

The air got thicker and Azriel’s wings tensed. “What?”

“I can’t watch you die Az, I- I won’t survive it. So just promise me I’ll die first.” He grabbed your hand with both of his. 

“It's ok. See? You patched me up good as new.” He wasn’t getting it. Tears began to pool in your eyes as you pleaded. 

“Azriel-” you said so low he could barely hear it “please…” He saw your chest heaving and  knew what was happening. So he pulled you next to him with both arms and made a shield with his wings and shadows. “Breathe, y/n. I’m right here. I’m right here.” 

You were sobbing now, clutching his leathers as if he would float away. He held you firm against his chest. His heart a little faster than normal, but steady. It was the greatest symphony and the most beautiful prose. You kept your ear pressed against his chest. He was mumbling “I’m here, I’m ok, It’s alright.” Over and over. 

You were back in your apartment now. Azriel had asked for the food to go and brought you back home. So now you sit on your couch, the food getting cold on the coffee table. Hugging your knees to your chest as Azriel draws circles on your back.  The crying stopped a while ago. The mortification on the other hand… You hid your face in your knees. “I’m embarrassed.” 

“Why? At least you didn’t have a panic attack in the middle of a one night stand.” He attempted to joke. 

“I always keep it together.”

“You don’t have to.” 

“It just- it keeps me awake at night, the arrow right through your chest. Your heart-” a gulp “I could feel your heart desperate for relief, the ash and the blood loss put so much of a strain on it- you didn’t see how close you were to being gone and- I close my eyes and I see you on that table limp and-” You hadn't spoken with him about any of this. He woke up and you were your usual self, if a bit sleep deprived. 

“I never thanked you” , his hands still drawing circles on your back,“thank you for healing me.”

“Anytime Az,” you lift your face from your knees and give him something that resembles a smile. With his thumb he brushes away a few tears and some strands of hair stuck on your face. “Are you hungry?”

You nod. 

“Then let's eat.”

#acosf #acowar #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #one day series #azriel x reader #azriel

[syoounn]

¸♬·¯·♩𝓓𝓻𝓲𝓯𝓽 𝓐𝔀𝓪𝔂·♪¸¸♩·♬·

•Pure Angst

•Characters: Chuuya, Kunikida

(Requested by vvvanni)

Chuuya

Chuuya truly loved you, but he can't stand seeing you hurt. Both of you were sitting on the sand and admiring the sea. It was quiet and peaceful... both of you were not talking as if feeling of eachothers presence is enough. But chuuya otherwise... was feeling hurt. He wanted to say something to you for a long time... but he can't bear to say it to you, but this time... there will be no hesitation. He took a deep breath and kept his eyes on you.

"Please, don't hate me... but you shouldn't stick around me any longer."

He was sitting on the sand, facing you and keeping a bit of distance.

"It'll just bring pain both in me and you.. and I don't want that, I don't like seeing you hurt."

You were aware of it... you didn't know how loving eachother could hurt eachother. How can you let him go... you loved him.

"Do you plan on moving on from me?....."

He asked you.. in a tone of concern, but also guilt. He felt guilty for making you feel that way.. knowing he can never reciprocate these feelings that you have.

You were silent for a while as and spoke quietly.

"How about you..? do you plan to let me go..?"

Your words hit him, breaking chuuya's heart... and the silence in the atmosphere was so deafening...

".........."

His facial expression remained blank, and his eyes were filled with sadness.. his throat tightened, feeling like tears were just about to roll down his cheeks.He couldn't speak, as the weight of this situation grew heavier in his mind.

He blinked once, and blinked twice.. before the sudden realization hit him.

"..........."

He could no longer feel your presence.. chuuya was all alone in the entire time. He wanted to look around for you. He wanted to hear your laughter... your voice.. anything.

But all that was left, was nothing. All that was left, was this empty void... this silence, and the weight of the reality that was pulling him down.

He felt... so alone. As these feelings of misery started to fill and engulf him like hot flames, he couldn't do anything about it.

Kunikida

Kunikida is a great and loving partner who always makes sure you feel loved. Besides his absent behaviour, he loves you dearly. Therefore, seeing him struggle to focus at work hurt you a lot. He knows the fact he's a workaholic, but he has never been this unfocused at work.

Even the people at the agency tell him that he needs a rest but he's a stubborn man as he still wants to work despite everything that happened. As he was trying to focused he felt like someone about to approach him as he spoke.

"I'm working y/n"

He expected you to hug him at the back as you always do when he's busy.. but not... he can’t feel your presence anymore. He knows the fact that you were gone but he can't accept it. Sudden tears started to form on kunikida's eyes as the realization of just losing you... the person he loved the most. He eventually broke down after lifting all this pain he felt and blamed himself for everything. Why he can't he protect you..?! If only if he's aware enough, you would still be here. He was in grief.

#Spotify #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd angst #kunikida x reader #chuuya x reader #angst

[haechvn]

Beach Day

Pairing: Shuri x F!Reader

Warning: Fluff and Anxiety at the end

Summary/Request: Shuri and reader spend the day at the beach with Prince T'Challa

Word Count: 0.8k+

Author’s Note: It's crazy how much the actor for Prince T'Challa actually looks like Chad.

Taglist : @melodykisses @blackhottie25 @tonakings @coalmistyy @szalipcombo @prettyluhlaiiii @yelenabelovasgf @callmeoncette @clqrosmgc @beautybyfire @homelessmicechild @theblacksuccubus @cherios @killmongerskeeper @shuris-whore @topshottad0ll

The waves crash against the shore of Cap-Haïtien as the air fills with the sound of Prince T’Challa’s giggles, sending warmth and peace to Shuri’s heart. The sweet smell of the ocean breeze whipped all around the three of you as you watched the young child entertain himself by trying to build a snowman. With sand. T’Challa was the exact same oh my goodness, she thinks to herself, not being able to hide the toothy smile that forms on her face.

Leaning back, Shuri rests her head on your shoulder and takes your hand into hers, cherishing the present moment Bast has blessed her with. She was never able to see past her grief and could not fathom a time when she would be feeling content, let alone happy, without feeling guilty. In a very healthy way, Prince T’Challa allowed Shuri to heal her wounds in ways she never imagined. He is truly his fathers child; wide eyes and adorable little cheeks, the constant need to be helpful to others and clear cut speeches.

She could not have asked for more. Upon hearing about her brothers’ passing, her heart was torn beyond measure but now she can feel those pieces coming back into realignment. Of course some days are harder than others but she feels lucky knowing that T’Challa left a book and a child for her to get a sense of closure. She was grateful for the days she was able to be a part of more and more because it reminded her to continue living the life that her family would have wanted for her.

You landed in Haiti last week and ever since, you and Shuri have been experiencing some of the most peaceful days of your entire relationship. Waking up in bed to the rays of the Caribbean sun pouring through the room windows. Long early morning and late night strolls on the beach is how most of your days were filled in between building connections with many of the locals. Prince T’Challa had even attempted to start teaching Shuri Creole but his little lisp made it a little difficult to understand but nevertheless he still tried.

From the outside looking in, the Princess mirrored the previous version of herself that never endured all the pain she had been through. She had started to eat more regularly and opened herself to others more. Her skin was glowing at every second, eyes bright as the night stars and her smile. That smile of hers never seemed to leave her face.

Being in a foreign place with those she was familiar with allowed her mind to expand past all that she had endured back home, bringing back that sense of tranquility and letting her ground herself in the most important thing she tried to push away: love.

Having so much taken from her made it hard to appreciate those that still surrounded her. As everyday passed, she found herself believing in the words her late mother once spoke to her. “Your brother may be dead, but he is not gone.” Some days, she swears she can hear T’Challa laugh alongside his son’s. Shuri is finally able to properly move on without having to say goodbye.

Turning her attention back to the boy, she calls him over so that she can sandwich from the picnic basket that his mother had put together for the three of you. Watching him bite into his meal with crumbs littering his chubby cheeks, Shuri felt as though her heart would explode with joy as she played with his beautiful natural curls. Even Griot let her know that her heart rate was accelerating.

Joining him, the two of you enjoy your sandwiches and juice boxes because what is a picnic without a juice box. The glorious sun begins to set on you all, casting a vibrant purple and orange sky as Prince scurries back to the shoreline. He was able to entertain himself with absolutely anything around him. Taking a quick glance at you, Shuri’s mind can’t help but travel to the future, envisioning what it would be like if the two of you had children you would call your own. Waking up at the middle of the night to screeching cries, having to change countless diapers and the possibility of one of your many children looking just like you, is something Shuri would surely die for.

Prince had insisted that he didn’t need any help with any sand castle or artistic creations so it was a bit off putting when he rushed over to you two, interrupting a sweet kiss that you shared.

“Aunties! I said he needs help!”

He? Who is he? Maybe he was feeling connected to his father again or something but his father passed peacefully. Scanning around the area, there was nothing and no one else in sight.

“Prince,” Shuri called to her cousin, beckoning him closer because based on his body language, the young boy was extremely uncomfortable. “Who needs help? Do you want us to help you with your—.”

“The water man. The water man needs Aunty Shuri!”

#shuri x reader #shuri smut #shuri angst #shuri black panther #mcu smut #shuri is a eater #shuri loves pussy #shuri imagine #princess shuri smut #black panther x reader #shuri x f!reader #shuri x fem!reader #namor smut #black panther imagine #marvel imagine #black panther fics #shuri x y/n #black panther wakanda forever #black panther #black panther smut #black panther angst #marvel #marvel angst #marvel fluff #marvel smut #shuri x namor #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #princess shuri #shuri fluff

[damn-stark]

Chapter 36 Be The One Fallen from Grace, be Death

Chapter 36 of Sugar

A/N- More tears, but also a great fight ;)

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, fluff, violence and blood, talks of DEATH, suicide, and pregnancy, flashback, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- 239-243 and then the first half of 249

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Grief has never been kind. Perhaps it was never meant to be kind, but this time besides sorrow, grief comes with livid anger.

You feel it within you. Like a blaring red alarm warning of incoming danger, like a tilting glass object on an edge ready to fall and shatter, like furious liquid lava boiling within and rising to the top to get ready to explode and spread havoc with no remorse.

You also feel like spreading chaos for the hell of it, because you’re hurt and you can’t pick up the pieces. You hate serene peace but also crave its infinite embrace.

You can do it, you can be like a great disaster, a deadly plague that terrorized that Egyptian pharaoh centuries ago. You want people to feel your deep pain, but…how selfish does that sound? When there are other targets out in the open for you to hunt and kill?

Waiting albeit might be the death to your patience that runs low already. First Takaba has to trap Kenjaku with his cursed technique, and once Kenjaku is so deeply entranced then you can go for the kill. You’re waiting for that to go down, but Takaba just started so it will probably take some time, much to your dismay considering you’re alone with Okkotsu and his cursed spirit.

Bummer.

This is worse than having to endure being by a person you just talked shit about behind their back, this is like being alone with your parents. Only you tried to kill Okkotsu’s friends and him.

Tsk, what a life.

“I’m sorry.”

Oh, he speaks.

He’s so strong yet so awkward, your father would hate him. He’d be like if you have no confidence then what’s the point of being the strongest, or a sorcerer? You can’t cower and blah, blah.

“For what?” You probe and keep looking past the tree line to try and get a glimpse of Takaba and Kenjaku, but they’ve moved so you’ve lost sight of them. Which means you have to move along to keep sight of them.

“For your loss,” Okkotsu shares kindly, making you halt in your tracks and look down, whilst he just slows down and keeps adding on. “And for being Suguru Geto’s demise.”

You gasp and clench your hands to fists.

If Suguru were still alive you’d have Kiyoshi, Nanako, and Mimiko would still be alive, your family wouldn’t have betrayed you, and perhaps all this disaster wouldn't have happened so soon. You also probably wouldn’t talk to Satoru, you wouldn’t have made amends with Shoko, or met Hakari and Kirara, or Choso—no you would have, he’d be different and you wouldn’t have fallen in love with him so the twins you’re expecting now would not exist, your life would’ve been different, but Suguru…Suguru would’ve been alive.

Oh, Suguru.

No matter how much life has changed, your heart will always yearn for him. He was your first love, your husband, your beloved, the one who was always there first.

Satoru killed him—That’s right your brother killed him, Okkotsu pushed him close to death, but he could’ve been saved, it was Satoru who took him away from you. You can admit that it took a while to admit it.

Maybe it only set in your heart now that Satoru is gone too, or it was Okkotsu’s apology—even if it wasn’t Okkotsu who made the kill.

You just needed to hear those heavy words, maybe not from him, but Satoru isn’t here now and you could never make him say it, so hearing Okkotsu say it is a close second, something to aid your bleeding heart.

“Oh,” your voice quivers and you start walking again to fall by his side and meet his droopy eyes. “It wasn’t you Okkotsu.”

It took a lot for you to say it but you finally did and it surprises the boy.

“But…thank you,” you tell him with no ounce of hesitation, not a sound of forced acceptance because of your circumstances. You mean what you say and it leaves him speechless with only the ability to look at the deep but beautiful sorrow haunting your face.

“I…” you hesitate now and avert your gaze to look out and make sure you’re not caught before you’re supposed to pop out. “I’m sorry for hating you. It was easier hating you than piling something else on,” you pause as your brother's name reaches the tip of your tongue, and no matter how much you want to say it you can’t bring yourself to utter a syllable of his name.

“…on him,” you say instead because you know Okkotsu will understand. “You didn't deserve it.”

“Oh,” Okkotsu scoffs nervously and slows down to keep an eye on the men fighting instead. “Well, I understood. It’s okay.”

You share a mostly forced laugh and peer at him over your shoulder. “It’s okay to say you don’t forgive me. I won’t break. I would understand.”

Okkotsu quickly shakes his head. “No, no I don’t hold any grudges against you. It’s really okay.”

You won’t fall into a never-ending cycle so you take it as it is, you really don’t care. You just needed to share that and ease yourself of that weight of hating a kid for what he didn’t do.

“Your girlfriend must be mad that we got paired up. I would really hate to face her wrath, I mean I didn’t fight Toji Zen’in but hearing about him was enough of an experience. So I’d rather keep things passive with her.” you point out to keep things lighthearted.

For the first time since you got here, Okkotsu finally stops dead in his tracks, and as you hear him you look back at him and see that a furious blush has taken over his face.

Was it something you said?

Were you not supposed to not know that he’s dating Maki?!

“Girlfriend?” He almost chokes on his own saliva.

“Uh, Maki Zen’in?”

His face grows even more red and he quickly shuts you down without actually being loud. “No, no, no. She’s not my girlfriend! She’s just a friend. Yes, just a friend.” He laughs nervously and offers you a sheepish smile.

Oh shit!

This is the last time you gossip with Hakari and Kirara—then again you weren’t really gossiping, you were all assuming by looking at how close the pair is.

“Oh sorry. I just assumed,” you say in a quick breath and laugh nervously before you look ahead and hide how embarrassed you feel and look.

“It’s okay,” he says once again and that’s probably the only thing he’ll be capable of saying to you from now on. How embarrassing.

Why couldn’t you and Choso come here together? Him killing his father would be poetic justice. Plus it wouldn’t be awkward and you’d be comforted by his presence even if he was being quiet. He’s so far now, so far and you’re left in the dark about his fate.

Maybe you’ve been clingy, maybe it’s due to your fear of being alone, but right now you wish you wouldn’t be far, or that he wouldn’t be out of sight, that way you can look out for him and save him from any fatal danger.

Which is funny because he wishes the same thing, it’s just…if you lose him you know you won’t love another soul ever again. Who else could love such a wicked creature like you the way he does?

So please higher beings, or whoever looks out for the mortals on earth, please, please don’t take Choso away.

“Oh damn,” Okkotsu whispers with shock.

You spot a cursed spirit in the distance surveilling the forest and stretch your arm out to point your finger at the distant curse.

“What is it?” You quiere as you shoot a fire orb from your finger and thankfully manage to exorcize the cursed spirit before it could spot you. “Or,” you sigh and put your hand down. “Who is it?”

Okkotsu clears his throat. “Kashimo,” he reveals.

You clench your jaw and rub the bridge of your nose.

Truth is you didn’t know him for long at all, he was kind of rude, and very much egoistical, but still…he was your friend.

A friend you knew would die, he would say it. It’s the way his cursed technique worked, and that’s why he chose to come back, so he could use his technique against Sukuna and die fighting. However, maybe you got a bit carried away and hoped he’d live so he could continue to be annoying, and stay close to Kirara and Hakari whom he had become friends with. But he, like everyone else, is gone.

At least he went out fighting his beloved.

“And,” Okkotsu adds to the morbid news. “Sukuna is finally in his true form. Yuji and Higuruma are next.”

Well, you all hoped Sukuna would unleash his final form, it would be pretty pointless continuing to go out and fight him if he kept using Fushiguro’s body because he would only get boosted up after wearing everyone down or after killing everyone. At least now you can all go all out and have a chance to kill him. Once and for all this time.

“Well, we expected that much huh?” You mutter and stop as you get a good view of Kenjaku and Takaba fighting in the forest now.

“Hopefully this won’t take long,” Okkotsu adds as he falls beside you. “I don’t want to leave the others waiting too long.”

You let out a deep sigh and drop your gaze to the necklace Choso gave you. “Yeah,” you quietly agree. “Me neither. But even if Takaba can’t stand a chance, I’m sure you, Rika, and I can take him…We will kill Kenjaku,” you proclaim with a wicked smirk on your features.

——

*A FEW YEARS BACK*

“I had a dream,” you speak airily as you tap your fingers together.

Suguru answers with silence like you expected. He’s usually so curious about listening to you share your ridiculous dreams, but lately, he’s been…distant. He seems to be in his head a lot. It’s begun to worry you, and you’ve pointed it out to Satoru but he says to just let him be.

You can’t just be so ignorant of Suguru’s feelings, he’s your boyfriend. He’s been there for you at your lowest, you have to treat him the same. You don’t want to be those couples who avoid talking about their feelings hiding right under the surface to keep the honeymoon phase unbothered.

“…that you told me what bothered you,” you quickly redirect to him and nudge his knee with yours.

Finally, after seeming to be stuck in a storm of his thoughts, he comes out looking lost. “What? Sorry.”

You swallow back nervously and push yourself to your knees on your bed to face him better without having to crane your neck, and take his hand. “You’re worrying me Suguru,” you get straight to the point now that he’s only heightened your worry to the point you feel it in the pit of your stomach.

“Lately you’ve seemed distant, like your mind is miles away, are you okay?” You share your concern, causing his eyes to flicker down but his expression to remain frozen in that nonchalance.

“Yeah,” Suguru almost seems to bring up that answer like it was rehearsed. “I’m fine, darling, don’t worry about me.”

For a moment, for a flicker of a second, you see a crease between his thin and dark eyebrows, but he makes sure to play it off as nothing.

“Suguru,” you coerce him softly and lean over to rest your hand on his leg, and that touch on such a delicate place always gains his attention. Just like now, his deep and dark eyes meet your gaze, and you see a dark storm brewing within, reflecting a peril you can’t quite dissect yet. You’ll get there.

“Talk to me. You can trust me, you know that.” You say and pull out a strand of his hair so he can wear his usual bang.

Meanwhile, Suguru immediately finds it in him to nod so you won’t think otherwise. “Of course I trust you, but there’s nothing wrong, it's just teenage blues. Normal, don’t worry about me.”

Teenage blues?

Yeah, you feel a bit gloomy sometimes, Belinda says it’s normal because you’re growing, but for Suguru, there’s been a distinct gloom haunting him. And you know it’s still there, you see it underneath the surface. But maybe he’s not ready to share what he feels just yet, so you’ll give him space and just show him some more appreciation than you already do.

“So tell me,” Suguru quickly changes the subject as he leans over and snakes an arm around your shoulders to swiftly turn you around and lay you back against him. “What was this dream about?”

“You know,” you don’t address that yet, you just need to lift his spirits a bit. “I’d be a hot housewife.”

Suguru’s fingers stiffen on your skin and he quickly picks at your comment in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You push yourself up and twist your body to face him as you remain at his side. “I would make a hot wife,” you repeat before you lean closer to explain the thought process behind your comment. “If it’s this part of your life that’s bothering you, you could wait until I turn 18 because that’s when I get my inheritance. And when we get that money, and with the money we make here, we could,” you pause and shrug suggestively. “Move somewhere far away from curses. Somewhere like Alaska, Fiji, Hawaii?” You suggest in a playful tone, making two emotions battle within him, amusement and admiration.

“We would probably have to pick up some odd jobs so we won't get bored, but we could live comfortably,” you continue to tell a dream that you make up at the spot, but one that could be a possibility. “We could live by the beach, far from Japan and this part of our world. We could live good lives.”

You were a rich girl, like an old money rich that would never know a day of poverty, your own kids would never know it, nor the kids after them. And this world you so easily wanted to cast aside was your entire world, you haven’t known anything else but this world of cursed energy and all that comes with it, so hearing you say you would risk not living such a luxurious life away from the world you knew leaves Suguru besotted.

“You’d do that?” He can’t help but ask so pathetically.

Not like you cared or let it boost your ego, you continue to look at him like he's the sweetest thing in this world, like he's a beautiful starry night. That softness never fades from your eyes nor from your voice. “Of course. As long as I’m with you I would be happy to leave this world behind.”

He knew that. He knew that you would have no debate leaving this sorcerer world behind because of how poorly your family treated you, but even yet, how silly is loving someone? Even if he knew, hearing you pour your heart out still steals his breath away.

“Well then if I ever feel like running off…” he pauses and exhales deeply as he feels so enamored by your sweet words. “I know who I’ll turn to.”

You smile giddily and lean in to press a peck on his lips. “You need only say the words.” You whisper.

Suguru smiles softly and hums. “I love you,” he says so tenderly. “More than anything.”

Your breath catches as if it’s the first time hearing those enchanting words and you stare at him dumbfoundedly before a silly lovestruck smile tugs on your lips. “I love you too Suguru.”

Suguru slowly cups your jaw and presses his lips against yours to feel the warm and wet feeling of your lips on his. Which is such an intimate act that always makes you nervous.

“So are you going to tell me that dream of yours?” He finally returns to your previous subject, making you pull back to lay back against him.

“Well,” you finally share lightheartedly. “I was standing in a pool of blood, I was covered in it and all I know is that I’m turning into a curse. But,” you add much to his surprise. “I wasn’t scared because you were there too.”

Suguru picks up your fingers to just mindlessly fiddle with them before he teases. “You do know what a nightmare is right?”

You roll your eyes and nod. “Yes, but it wasn’t a nightmare because you were there before you started doing, like, weird flips.”

Suguru snorts softly and you can't help but get lost in the moment and laugh with him. However, you come to an abrupt stop and tilt your head back to meet his gaze that's intently on you. “Swear to me that if I ever turn to a curse you’ll kill me. I don’t want to lose control of myself.”

Suguru’s eyebrows knit together with disbelief but before he can try and talk you out of this fear-filled pact you press him. “Just humor me.”

Suguru exhales deeply and chooses not to argue his way around this. “Alright. Swear.”

You sigh with relief before you then grow serious but reassuring at the same time. “If you ever turn to a curse I’ll exorcize you. I promise, even if it takes my soul and my ability to love again I will do it.”

Suguru’s cheeks grow a tint of pink that he can’t hide because you’re so close.

“And if we lose our minds together,” you continue playfully. “We can be like Romeo and Juliet and kill one another.”

Suguru shakes his head, but you cut him off before he can correct you. “Lovers suicide, how romantic.” You sigh and press your hand against your chest to dramatically recite a quote. “Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears; What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.”

“How do you memorize a quote but not the ending?” Suguru teases you with a bit of judgment, you sense it. But whatever.

“It’s my favorite quote from that story,” you brush him off. “Like it?”

“Of course.” He assures you nonetheless, making your heart swoon and a happy smile tug on your lips. For he always knew how to make you smile with so much glee, and so did you always find a way to pull a genuine smile out of him that's filled with nothing but endearment. Even if a deep anguish clouds over him.

——

*NOW*

More than anything is what he would always say. At first, you didn’t know the meaning behind that—it’s just a simple phrase is what you’d always think, something sweet from someone even sweeter, but then, after his defection, as the years passed and Suguru changed, that phrase never left his vocabulary and that’s when you knew that he really loved you over everything and more than life itself.

You didn't just live for the hope of it all, you lived for each other. Which is so cheesy, and so clinging, but no non-sorcerer or anyone could understand the true meaning behind something so deep.

Which is why it’s so weird now—Not living without him, you can live without Suguru now. At first, going on and dragging your feet through life was like a person going through withdrawal, only there was no chance you could get your fix after his death. No curse and no cursed energy could bring him back, so you were stuck.

But now, you’ve healed. You would like to say that you don’t love so deeply anymore, but…you’re married already after 2 months of knowing Choso, and there's a chance you could relive all that trauma of loss again, but you’re not hurting now. Not about that love.

But even then it’s weird watching Kenjaku parading around in Suguru’s body. You quickly told them apart, you knew the deep workings of Suguru's soul after all, but seeing that long black hair draped over his back, seeing those dark passionate eyes, and that precious face makes you feel all dizzy—until you see the unique stitches.

It’s so surreal, more so because as you pay attention to Takaba and Kenjaku, you see Suguru’s body turned into a female nurse because of Takaba’s technique. Kenjaku is a female nurse. It’s…Well, there’s a possibility of what adult Satori could look like.

You always wanted a glimpse into the future, you never thought you would get one this way….

This fight is odd, it’s like watching a bad sitcom. What did you sign up to?

“What the hell is the matter with you!” Takaba bellows as he wears doctors get up to act out whatever scene you just focused on. “Is that how you treat someone in the pits of despair?! Well?!”

“You don’t look very depressed to me!”

No, no, you get it now, this is like those sitcoms they dump into the graveyard hours on TV, the time slots hardly anyone watches. Yeah! That’s it.

“Fine, fine,” Takaba pretends to deescalate whatever it is they’re fighting about in that fake reality. “We’ll settle this fair and square with rock, paper, scissors.”

Takaba and Kenjaku clasp their hands together and raise them over their heads, whilst you tilt your head and assume they’ll suddenly spin around like western cowboys in a standoff. You actually almost get amused, but…they start to dance and sing.

Would it be wrong to say you prefer blood and destruction? Like, yes, you love funny stuff, but considering who you left behind and the battle going on miles away, this is distasteful. And gross considering they just stabbed each other's fingers in each other's noses.

The one good thing is that their scenes keep changing. Like now for example, now they’re competing in those question games that air on TV, and Kenjaku’s face is contorting into silly facial expressions Suguru would do when he was in his high school years, and once when he was trying to make baby Satori laugh. Did he?

No, she just stared at him with judgy and beady eyes. It was the cutest thing and a lot funnier than his attempt at making her laugh.

Yet even if you reminisce about the past, when you lift your eyes your hatred for this man grows livid.

How much longer will you have to keep watching this? At this rate, you’ll end up falling asleep!

You groan under your breath and then frown with displeasure before you lean your body against the side of the tree and watch a street suddenly appear on the ground, and a black cat crossing a pedestrian crosswalk. It almost seems like it’s going to be hit by oncoming traffic, so as the fake sidewalk light turns red, Takaba tries to save it even if the car gets closer.

However, when he’s about to grab the cat, it suddenly turns to…Kenjaku!

He’s a freaky cat hybrid!

And now that you look at him look like some humanoid cat he’s actually terrifying rather than funny. You almost want to laugh at how creepy he looks, but you stand straight-faced and actually, feel impressed when the car from before hits Takaba, but he bounces out of the way with no repercussions.

It’s honestly very amazing and a great example of his powers.

Kenjaku even seems caught off guard by the suddenness of Takaba’s counter, but it’s a quick reaction before suddenly in a blink of an eye Takaba is a humanoid cat too and he’s drowning.

Kenjaku then appears on a surfboard and goes to his rescue. “Wait right there!! I’m coming to save you!!”

This time Takaba gets payback for Kenjaku’s surprise attack, and appears from behind Kenjaku with a Jetski, and slams right into his back, seeming to knock the wind out of Kenjaku. But before you can watch him hit the ground, the entire scene changes and it’s played off like Takaba is splashing him with water.

What a fake out! Boo!

“You got me good!” Kenjaku laughs along and splashes water at Takaba, creating a playful and almost serene scene.

Almost! Because then in a matter of a second the scene violently changes and Kenjaku is trying to drown Takaba with a sinister look on his face.

Alas, Takaba turns things around and plays it off to save himself. “Wait a sec!” Takaba cuts in humorously. “Taste some of this seawater!”

Kenjaku scoops up the water and his face lights up. “This isn’t water, it’s Fanta!” He laughs and you feel like you’re going to throw up.

This can’t be real. Please! Someone come kill you right now!

Anyhow the scene changes and Kenjaku and Takaba are in suits now in front of a stage of a real-looking audience.

“Huh?” Takaba seems to genuinely be confused by the change, but he also seems to be filled with awe.

“You’ve already warmed up plenty, haven’t you?” Kenjaku directs at Takaba. “Let’s do this partner.”

Takaba’s cheeks slowly redden and his response is given breathlessly. “Yeah.”

They both go up to the mic and like some heavenly intervention, Okkotsu finally distracts you from the horrible show. “Can I ask you something? If that’s fine.”

You keep your eyes on the men just to keep an eye on the scene and make sure your part isn’t coming up soon, but you still gracefully address Okkotsu’s question. “Depends what it is. Go on.”

You hear Okkotsu swallow nervously before he gets less confident and nervously brings up his question. “Why did you leave? I mean defect from school, from Jujutsu society?”

You scoff and immediately counter the boy. “I didn’t defect from Jujutsu society. That’s kind of ignorant of you to say, Okkotsu—”

“Oh, oh no, I—”

“Listen,” you cut off his nervous rambling. “Just because I didn't fit into this cookie image of what the higher-ups think a sorcerer should be, doesn’t mean I was out of the Jujutsu society. I was still a part of it. I was a curse-user, sure, but I was still here, I just changed my way of thinking that’s all,” you actually care to explain only because what you’re watching is boring.

“There’s many reasons that go into why I left,” you continue to explain. “Love, trauma, exhaustion, search for myself, and to sum it up realization,” you say and pause to stand up straight and draw out a deep breath.

“I realized,” you add and slowly lower your head to look at your nails.“That the non-sorcerers weren’t worth saving. No matter how heroic we are, they will always be selfish…we die trying to save them from the horrors they create and they clap and cheer at the death of an innocent young girl, they experiment on each other to achieve horrors that they can’t see. They hurt little kids because they’re different, because they themselves fear what they create, so why would I try and risk my life to save them when I could help us?” You rant as if you’re spewing your evil monologue to the hero. No remorse or pity. Just frustration and ache.

“That’s why I left Okkotsu,” you finish and lift your head to peer at him over your shoulder. He doesn’t look nervous, he stiffens when your eyes meet his, but he isn’t fidgety.

“But,” he surprises you by saying. “You’re ignorant too then…” he hesitates but his gaze doesn’t falter, and his lips twitch nervously. “Sorcerers are the same. We just have the power and the ability to not create horror, we’re strong and they’re not. Chaos and order.”

Rather than getting upset, you grin Instead over the fact that he’s quoting you.

“I’m selfish Okkotsu,” you admit with no sign of remorse. “If I have to pick between one evil, I pick us every time.” You could go on and on over why it will always be sorcerers over nonsorceres, but why should you waste your breath in explaining it to him? He's got strong beliefs. Besides, now doesn’t seem like the time to divulge into your deeper inner thinking.

“Hm, well I won’t say I see the way you think, but I appreciate you sharing your response with me,” Okkotsu says.

You answer with a hum and casually return your attention to the men.

“Hey, you okay?” You catch Kenjaku asking Takaba.

You sigh and lean back on the tree before you lift your hand to scratch your cursed worm's chin, making him lean towards you to appreciate your gesture.

“Yeah,” Takaba says breathlessly as his eyes take in the crowd. “I’m just thinking about curtains…”

Finally, what a drag!

“…on the show of my dreams…up until now you could probably say I wasn’t even qualified to spell the word comedian,” Takaba explains as his voice grows more and more shaky as his emotions rise. “But up on this stage, even your fangirls are making me happy. I want to keep going, I don’t want this to end!”

Kenjaku seems pensive, no malice lies behind his eyes, nor in his voice as he comforts his opponent. “Don’t cry, you’ll spoil the mood.”

He pats Takaba’s chest and everything changes back to the forest, but Takaba lays on the ground with a gown and head mirror on his head. Which means one thing now, this is your time.

It’s curtains for them, but what about an encore?

“It’s time, Okkotsu,” you let the boy know what he’s already preparing for, and with not a moment to spare while Kenjaku is babbling on, Okkotsu runs out of the forest and sneaks up to Kenjaku from behind without even causing the man to bat an eye.

The plan is for Okkotsu to catch Kenjaku off guard and slice his head off, while you come out as backup because Kenjaku can’t seem to let go of life and will probably leave with a fight. Thus you stride out calmly since you completely trust Okkotsu to execute his fatal move.

And while you’re moving out, you see Kenjaku shut up and suddenly grow stiff and baffled as a realization seems to hit him as almost out of nowhere Okkotsu appears behind him.

“Curse technique reversal antigravity—” Kenjaku announces, making you transfer your cursed energy to the ground to rip chunks of the earth to get over to them and quickly rebuttal Kenjaku, but, luckily Okkotsu uses his advantage and quickly swings his katana to slice Kenjaku’s head off, letting you drop the pieces of earth and…gasp out of a sudden flash of horror.

You see Suguru’s dark eyes deep with complexity, his terrified expression painted over his face and you see your husband for a second. A second! But it’s enough to fool your mind into thinking it was him who was killed.

Realization thankfully hits you when you hear the head flop on the ground, but your heart is still trying to calm down from that freight that ramped up its speed.

“Was that your plan,” you hear Kenjaku interject in that deeper voice he could never mold into Suguru’s soft and soothing tone, not even because he’s in Suguru’s body.

“…from the beginning?”

You slowly step out of the cold shadows of the forest and feel a sly smirk flicker on your cold expression.

“Takaba doesn’t kill people,” Okkotsu says with no rise of stress in his tone, unlike in your interactions, he shows no awkwardness, no nervousness, he’s laser-focused and wearing an Icy look.

“Makes sense,” Kenjaku replies nonchalantly before he freaks you out as he snaps his gaze down to find you. “Didn’t I kill you?” He asks.

You shoot him a smug smile and shrug just as smugly. “What can I say? You should’ve gone for the head.”

He scoffs and his lips form into a deep discontent frown. “It's a shame to bow out before I finish…but my will will be passed on!” He sneers with eyes peeling back before suddenly a loud kadump shakes the ground, setting off every alarm in your mind.

Is he about to lose control?

“Rika!” Okkotsu bellows out for the cursed spirit attached to him before his eyes snap to you. “Get Kenjaku, Rika and I can handle what’s about to come!”

Neither of you have to see what’s about to unfold to know it’s not anything good, you feel it on your skin as all the hairs on your arms and on the back of your neck shoot up as your instincts sense danger before it all, every single curse Suguru had left, and every curse Kenjaku collected comes busting out of a portal.

The multiple and massive bodies block your eyesight as they surround you, causing you to lose sight of Kenjaku’s head.

“Okkotsu can you handle this?” You shout so you can be heard over the horrifying commotion everywhere around you.

“Yes! Don’t worry!”

You spare one last glimpse at Okkotsu and see that he hasn’t faltered, so you manipulate the wind with your technique and shoot up into the sky like a torpedo. And there, over the disaster in the forest beneath you, flying away is a curse carrying Kenjaku’s head.

“I killed you once, what's the point of sending you again?!” Kenjaku makes sure his voice is carried out as he gets flown toward the bridge over the water. “I can just kill you again.”

You curl your lips to a snarl and try to manipulate the wind to fly directly at him, but curses fly up in his defense and once again block sight of him.

But, it’s not like these curses are an obstacle, you’re outside, this is your territory!

“Let’s have some fun!” You cry out excitedly and shoot your arms out as you stay where you are.

The wind takes no time to gain momentum as you violently spin it around you at rapid speeds, tearing old trees off the ground, and mixing rocks in the tornado forming around you. The curses don’t have any grasp of incoming danger so they all still barrel towards you without a second of hesitation, which makes for easy work. How magnificent!

You beam at the curses with malicious joy and gently bring your arms back to send the tornado out towards the curses, feeling the high and icy winds blow past you but not harm you whatsoever. All you are is an ominous figure in the destruction with a wicked smile playing on your face

The curses finally sense danger and try to avoid being caught, but the tornado pulls them all into its spinning void and exorcizes them with ease with the sharp and deadly winds, leaving a clear sight of Kenjaku over the bridge but not an opening. There’s more curses below, and some out of the a hundred below spot you and make you their target.

So you use the tornado in your control and have it touch ground to wipe away the curses that came after you. You also end up clearing a path with the tornado and get rid of all the curses in its destructive path until it reaches the edge of the bridge.

There’s more curses, hundreds more all huddled up creating a dark cloud of curses on the bridge, but now that you aided Okkotsu by clearing the forest of curses, he can handle the ones on the bridge while you focus on Kenjaku who is still being carried away like some wimpy coward.

You won’t let him get away though, he won’t escape this time, nor will he get the jump on you again. Today you will recover Suguru’s body, today you will see through the revenge promise you made to Choso. Kenjaku won’t live past today. So as he keeps getting further away, you fly forward and once you get close you let your voice boom out so he can hear.

“Scared Kenjaku? You should be.” You smirk, and Kenjaku snickers.

“Scared? Of you? Please,” he brushes you off as his head gets creepily turned around by his hair so he could meet your gaze. “Do you want to know something, Gojo?!”

You draw in a deep breath and sigh. “I’ll bite!”

Yet before he can answer he has some of the curses on the bridge change directions and aim toward you rather than Okkotsu seeming to easily wipe them out with the help of Rika. But don’t the curses after you know how foolish they are? You’re near water, an element you reign over. Kenjaku knew that, he knows far too many things he shouldn’t, but then again he's using the curses as a distraction to make distance between him and you.

“Let’s show them something tremendously beautiful, hm?” You direct at your worm cursed spirit, and then tilt your head down to pierce your mischievous glare into the curses flying up to try and reach you before you point your palms at the water and play.

You raise the water several feet into the sky, causing Okkotsu’s attention to be stolen by the impressive wall of water rising in front of him, casting a large shadow over him and his surroundings that makes an icy chill rush over him.

The wall of water then folds down at your will and like an angry storm-powered wave blasts through all the curses that were coming after you and those too stupid not to move, while also cracking the bridge in half with the mere power of the water alone.

Now there’s a few curses left, but Okkotsu handles them, while you finally fly over the bridge and land on the ground just a few feet away from where Kenjaku’s curse is propped.

“Kogane,” Kenjaku says with his piercing eyes meeting yours. “Add a rule.”

Kogane sounds familiar, but you don’t—no you can’t figure out where you heard it from because you’re caught by surprise by Kenjaku’s rule. “Transfer the authority to begin the great merger between Tengen and Humanity to Megumi Fushiguro.”

Your eyes widen and you reach back to grab a blade imbued with cursed energy from the Worm's mouth.

“Roger that!” A creature with wings confirms after popping out of nowhere. “Rule 15: authority to begin the great merger between Tengen and Humanity has been transferred to Megumi Fushiguro.”

Oh, you get it now, this little creature is the one in charge of the rules from the Culling Games.

“One at least needs some insurance,” Kenjaku finally directs at you, making you step forward with growing horror over the fact that it won’t actually be Fushiguro in charge of the merger, but the one using his body; Sukuna.

“I’ve already had Sukuna undergo the succession ritual,” Kenjaku shares with that usual cocky arrogance he always carries—“what remains is simply his becoming the parent of the ritual via the culling games.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and then suddenly feel your breath catch in your throat when you see Tengen appear in the womb the curse carrying Kenjaku has.

You thought nothing of it seconds ago but that was because you didn’t realize it carried Tengen.

“Tengen!” You call out even if you know they won’t hear you, it’s a desperate call before Tengen is blasted away to the grasp of a greater evil.

“Oh please don’t act like you care about the human species,” Kenjaku picks on your baffled reaction. “Thanks to Suguru’s memories I know you more than I care to. You detest non-sorcerers, so think of this as…your dream come true.”

You clench your hand around the blade's handle and narrow your gaze to shoot your seething glare at him. “I care about humanity, you stupid arrogant fool. I am a part of humanity. Just because I don’t care about one part of humanity doesn’t mean I want life as I know it to go extinct out of some sick curiosity!”

“Hm,” he simply hums before his creepy curse crawls down, making you step back out of a fear reaction. “But don’t you see it?” He says with a glee that creeps you out. “Peace you’ve craved for so long? Where the weak don’t exist and the strong like you reign? Where your daughter, your family, and your people can live without fear of getting killed by nasty curses?”

You sneer at the sound of him speaking of your daughter and lift your blade an inch.

“All you’ve ever wanted is there just out of reach,” he coaxes you in a gentle and almost alluring way while the curse brings him closer, but not too close. “You can almost taste everything you and Geto dreamed of.”

You raise your blade a bit further but stay glued to your spot whilst your eyes follow his hovering head. “Whatever you’re trying to get at, drop it,” you sneer. “I’m going to kill you.”

He shares a dry chuckle and stops before you. “You and me are different sides of the same coin. We both crave power and a craving to prove our strength.”

You lean towards him and shake your head as you look at him disgusted that he dared to compare you to him. “No. We’re not the same. I value my life, it’s beautiful because I’ll only live it once. I love and you're not capable of it. I value my family and you use them. I have a soul and you obviously don’t,” you spat, “we’re nothing alike.”

His face doesn’t drop his arrogance or that cockiness. Not even in death.

“Hm, you may be right. You truly are quite fascinating,” he speaks low as he leans towards your ear. “It’s why I know that it can all be yours, darling. If all else fails be, The One Fallen from Grace, be Death.”

You blink in surprise and clench your jaw. Kenjaku backs away and his eyes drift over your shoulder.

“I won’t say I’ve had a thousand years worth of fun, but,” he says. “I’m glad the one I got to play with at my end was him.”

You peer back and see Okkotsu finally has joined you dragging Takaba along on the ground and another body you don’t take a chance to identify because you focus back on Kenjaku.

“Now it’s up to you guys. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

No more prusiading, no more talking, no more running away, it all ends here. He ends here.

A breath escapes past your lips, and then with your jaw clenched and your glare gleaming with forming tears, you grab the blade with both hands, and bring the blade up to thrust it right through Kenjaku’s head and all the way until the point comes out the other end just so he doesn’t pull some trick out of nowhere and live somehow.

You won’t let him live past today. He won’t live past today…

But you still make sure he's dead by waiting for any sign of life. You can’t miss a single detail that could lead to his escape.

You wait, and wait for what feels like hours (but it’s only a few minutes) until finally the blade slips out of your hand as his head flops on the ground when Okkotsu exorcizes the curse that held up Kenjaku’s head.

He’s dead. That parasite of a person is dead…

Suguru…you can rest now…

Suguru…

You slowly drop to your knees and grab the blade to pull it out of his head. Not Kenjaku’s, but Suguru’s. The stitches are still on his forehead, but now that no life brightens his eyes, all you see is the man you loved, the man that was stolen from you, your husband and best friend, Suguru Geto.

“Ms,” Yuta whispers cautiously behind you.

You know you have to go, but just one minute…

“Hm?” You probe and look back, catching him walking toward you with the other part of Suguru’s body.

“I thought you’d want it,” Okkotsu says softly.

Your bottom lip trembles and your eyesight clouds with tears, but you still manage a thankful nod in your numbed state.

Okkotsu then places the body under the head, and before he can step away to give you space you connect the pieces together and look at the body in awe.

There’s still stitches on his forehead, but you ignore them and only see Suguru returned to you.

“I’ll do it this time,” you murmur to his cheek as you lean down. “I’ll put you to rest. Close to home, where our daughter can visit. Where I can visit. I’ll put you, Kiyoshi, and the twins together. Okay?”

There’s no response, just a deafening silence that brings more tears down your face.

“I miss you,” your voice quivers. “But I bet you and…my…you and him are together now, so you’ll be plenty distracted…” you trail off and can’t go on anymore, you can’t muster another word, and your shattered heart aches too much, but you don’t want to break down now, Choso is not here to calm you down.

So after a shaky breath, you press a kiss on his cheek and then press your forehead on his shoulder as you feel a wave of sorrow incoming ready to bring you down.

“Don’t cry,” you hear a familiar voice. A soothing one that’s not forced and sounds so real. “…FireFly.”

Suguru?

You snap your head up and look ahead at the forest where the voice comes from and see him, a mirage, but it’s still him offering you his sweet and charming smile.

“I love you,” he says and brings a wobbly smile to your lips. “I’ll always look out after you and Satori. Always.”

You drop your head and let out a trembling sob before you repeat his words, “always.”

——

*LATER*

You to Choso: I’m back. I’m okay, are you? Answer when you can. I'll be there shortly.

Your name is called out before you can watch your phone's screen for the three little bouncing dots that show that he’s responding. And when you look over you notice Shoko walking over to you.

“Ijichi mentioned you came in. Why didn’t you go get me?” She asks.

You turn around to face her and see a faint smile painted on her features as she sees no blood stained on your white hair or clothes. When she doesn’t see any visible wounds she strides over and immediately envelopes you in an embrace without caring that the worm is still attached around your shoulders.

You’re a bit stunned at the feeling of her embrace, but when you feel a comforting weight clinging onto you, you let out a shaky breath and hug her tightly.

“Mei-Mei is not surveilling that far, I was worried,” she shares between a soft breath.

You pull back and face her so she can see once again that you’re okay.

Honestly, that was an easy fight, the worst one is yet to come.

“I’m okay, the plan worked,” you assure her and rub her shoulders. “I…brought Suguru’s body back. I wanted to leave it here for now.”

Shoko stills for a moment at the sound of your words before she nods gently. “Yeah, okay, just place him on a table. I’ll keep his body cool.”

You sigh deeply and know that putting his body down isn’t what will crush you. You had a moment with him already so you’ll be fine. Quiet but fine. It’s someone else's body that you’re afraid of seeing, but want to see at the same time.

“I’m sorry for the way it was transported, it was the easiest way to carry him all the way over here,” you excuse your actions before you walk to a metal table and look at your worm to give him a knowing look he understands.

Shoko walks over and reaches for a cigarette in her coat's pocket, but you then catch her eyes snap to you as she realizes your condition and pats her pocket before digging her hands in her other pocket. The worm then opens his mouth and you help him by pulling out the body before letting it fall on the table with a loud thud since it is very heavy flesh and muscle.

“Again,” you mutter with pursed lips. “Sorry.”

You glance at all the drool soaked on Suguru’s body and pass Shoko an awkward tightlipped smile before you look down and take out the head.

“Now we’re all back,” you mention a conversation you had a month ago.

Albeit now another one of you is also gone, and that’s a fact that’s too hurtful to think about so you try and brush it off by combing Suguru’s hair with your fingers before gently placing his head down.

“I could remove the stitches and close the wound,” Shoko says to not focus too deeply on the fact that her dead friend's head is on the table, it’s a sorrow that neither you can afford to get lost in just yet.

“Could you?” You ask hopefully as you caress Suguru’s head. “I want Satori to give her dad a last goodbye, and I don’t want those horrible stitches on his head.”

Shoko nods and can’t help herself, she pulls out a cigarette and places it in between her lips. She doesn’t light it for your sake, but she keeps it there as a form of comfort.

“Oh, and could you remove the stitches now? I want to show Choso his father's brain.” You say even if it sounds wrong saying that sentence.

“That’s so weird,” she says what you’re thinking. “But yeah. Afterward, I want to check on your twins. I can’t do much, but perhaps now we can hear a heartbeat. I just want to check if they sound good before you go. Choso would strangle me if I let you leave without getting checked out first.”

You chuckle breathlessly and nod. “Alright.”

Shoko walks off to get something, and you know you won’t be able to watch her take off the stitches and pull his head apart, so you instead walk away and attempt to leave the room, but before you can you come to a sudden stop when you catch Satoru’s shoes sticking out of a thick cover.

There’s no mistake that it’s anyone else, in your grief-battered mind the memory of his shoes sticks out like a sore thumb. Which is a cruel thing for your mind to do. Can’t it see your hearts already bleeding? Can’t it sense its agony?

Why does it take you to him without letting you question it first? Does it want to torture your withered soul? Or does your mind need confirmation of what the rest of you already knows?

You don’t know, your mind is silent and only occupied with one thought? Is he okay?

You mindlessly grab the edge of the cover that’s over his head and slowly pull it back. When his face is uncovered your mind quickly tells your hand to drop it and you freeze as you get stunned by what you see.

It feels like you got stabbed in your heart again. You feel that same stillness paralyzes your body, you feel that same pain terrorize you. This time though it’s worse. This pain is a lot more agonizing.

As your eyes focus on your brother's white eyelashes kissing his skin, when you take note of the fact that his chest lies still, and when you feel that not even a staggered breath escapes his nose, you feel a blinding pain puncture you and it pollutes every corner of your body, and finally hits your stubborn mind.

You try to think of any excuse, any workaround to deny what you see, but the realization is like shockwaves, bothersome, and unable to let you forget. Yet there’s an even sadder truth that lies beneath all that pain, and it’s a realization that you know who you’ll be now that he’s gone. You once feared not knowing who you’d be without him because he’s all you had, but now…now you lie underneath the rubble, just waiting to be pulled out, and those you cherish are present in your mind.

And you know he’d remind you of that. He wouldn’t let you forget nor would he want you to feel alone and lost, he’d remind you of who you were surrounded by, that you didn’t really need him in the grand scheme of things. He’d remind you of who you are and who you’ve always been, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that you’ll miss your older brother, that there will never be a day that goes by where you don’t mourn the first man who loved you and who always kept you in his heart.

There will never be a day where you won’t wish that he’ll be by your side because why did he have to leave? Why did he have to die and leave you here?

Why? Why?!

You clutch onto his shoulders and sob into his chest.

“Please,” you begin to plead. “Please come back. You said you’d always protect me. You promised me. Why are you gone, Satoru?”

Your legs lose all their strength and threaten to knock you to the ground, but before you can hit the ground, arms wrap under your arms and pull you up. You don’t get to look back before Shoko whispers your name and follows with soft words.

“Come on, honey, let’s get outside, okay? All this distress is not good for you and your babies.”

You shake your head and want to stay by your brother's side, but her words do register so you let her guide you out of the room, but fall with her out in the hall.

“Shoko,” you mewl.

Said woman caresses the side of your head and with tears of her own she tells you she understands your pain. “I know. I know.”

Her hand then slips from your head, and her arm slips around your waist so she can pull you to her side and press your head on her shoulder. Neither of you have the willpower to say anything after, you sit in silence with your backs to the door, and find comfort in each other's warmth.

You would want to sit here for hours just to try and process everything, but you can’t afford that luxury, people need you, so you lift your head off her shoulder before you stay attached to her, and push yourself up.

“I got your father-in-law's brain,” Shoko tries to lighten up your mood.

And it didn’t work to make you smile, but your nose wrinkles in disgust. “Ew please don’t refer to him as that,” you remark.

Shoko turns and as you lose sight of her in the room you hear her voice in the distance. “It’s true.”

“Ew,” you grumble and look down at your worm to mirror the disgust on your faces.

However, speaking about your father-in-law, you remember his eldest son and check your phone to see if he answered, but it’s still left on delivered. Choso hasn't read your message.

Is he okay?

You should check the broadcast—but if he’s not okay you’ll fall into more distress so you’ll text him first.

You to Choso: Cho? Call me if you can, please. Just let me know you’re okay.

You wait now and watch for the three dots again. But alas, once again Shoko comes to meet up with you.

“Here take your brain.” She interjects with a hint of disgust as she holds a jar with Kenjaku’s blood-covered brain.

When you take the jar you can only spare it one glance because your stomach constantly feels queasy, and you don’t want to taste that bitter taste of puke so you just let your Worm hold it.

Maybe it’s a sign from your babies that they don’t want to keep seeing their grandfather. Who would?

“Now can we please move on?” Shoko insists.

Your eyebrows raise and you nod eagerly. “Yes, please! I want to check on Choso. He hasn’t texted me back and he’s not one to take long to respond…” you trail off and look at her quizzical look to question her. “Do you know how he is? I mean have you seen him on the screens?”

Shoko tilts her head down to hold her dry cigarette stick and nods softly. “Yeah, he was helping against Sukuna. But that was a while ago, I got busy after that sorry.”

Well, that doesn’t work to reassure your worry whatsoever.

You’ll need to get through the checkup quicker than you’d like, Choso might need your help, or the others might need assistance.

Albeit there’s a part of you that doesn’t want Shoko to check on the babies. Not because you dread it, but because they’re still so small, and if she doesn’t hear anything you’ll think the worst right now considering all the distress you’ve been under.

However, there would’ve been signs if something bad happened, there hasn’t been any to your knowledge.

“Do you want to know what names Choso and I already chose,” you tell Shoko so you don’t keep focusing on the negative.

Shoko opens the door to a separate room and as you pass her to walk in she of course doesn’t turn you down. “Please do.”

You smile brightly and rub your belly. “Well I want a boy and a girl, so we chose based on that.” You share with your glee slowly heightening as you get excited. “For the girl, Choso chose Suki, which means beloved. And for the boy I chose Tsukuyomi, after the god of the moon. I wanted Orlando, but Choso vetoed it, can you believe that?” You pout.

Shoko scoffs and mumbles something under her breath as she taps on the chair for you to sit on. You pierce your glare into her and don’t leave yourself wondering what she had to say, you press her. “What? What did you just say?”

Shoko grabs a white device from her bag and when she turns around she doesn’t shy away from repeating herself. “It’s a stupid name.”

You gasp and touch your chest to pretend to be wounded by her insult to your beloved's name. “You’re a stupid name. I’m being so serious.”

Shoko sits on her chair and rolls herself to you. “Oh, I know you are. I’m glad Choso had some common sense, remind me to praise him for that.”

You pout. “Are you guys just jealous because he was my first love?” You tease her with the same thing you told Choso. “It’s okay if it’s any reassurance, I would hesitate leaving my life behind to marry Orlando Bloom. Before, nothing was going to stop me, now I’ve changed, okay?”

Shoko rolls her eyes and brings up her device that you don’t recognize. “What is that?” You probe and guard your belly.

Shoko turns on the device and pulls it up to show it off. “It's a fetal doppler to hear the baby’s heartbeat. I bought it recently to check on you.”

You drop your hand and can’t help your heart from skipping a beat at the thought of Shoko being so considerate and worried for your twin's well-being.

“Okay, now I won’t have you undress due to our circumstances, but I will ask you to lift your obi belt for me please.”

Your previous lightheartedness drops to zero, and all you’re filled with is worry that makes you swallow back nervously as you drag up the obi belt to give Shoko easy access.

“And I must warn you,” Shoko cuts in as she’s in the middle of leaning in. “If we don’t hear anything It’s because they’re too young to be detected by this device. Don’t worry, okay? You’re not showing any signs of concern, so I’m sure you’re okay.”

As far as doctors go she’s the first one to ever make you feel reassured by her attempts at comfort. The others you’ve seen speak with a feigned softness that oozes their artificiality

Maybe it's because she’s your best friend and the others have been strangers you have to see, but nothing in the way she sits, looks at you, or speaks gives any sense of doubt.

Then again she’s always sounded kind to you. Even when you first met her voice had a way to make you feel quite safe and reassured.

“Okay, I’m going to press this on you, okay? And you might feel a bit of pressure since I have to press deep to hear through your clothes, okay?” She speaks a lot softer and kinder, it almost sounds like she’s hypnotizing you.

“Okay,” you talk under your breath, and she only hears you because she's so close to you that her knees are touching yours.

And as she gets her wand close to your belly you hold your breath, and when presses her wand on you and presses hard to feel through the clothes and layers of skin and flesh, you stiffen and close your eyes out of your racing nerves attacking you.

“Come on now little Suki and Tsukuyomi, let me just hear you so your mama and your dad can have something positive to hold onto for today.”

You smile at her speaking to the twins, but it looks all wobbly and more like you’re about to cry.

Shoko notices your reaction and places the machine down to grab your hand and offer you a smile before she lowers the wand closer to your waistline and presses just a bit harder, making the sound of silence get interrupted by the sweet rhythmic music of two little ba-dums running quickly.

“Oh,” Shoko muses and drops your hand to grab the machine and watch the screen. While you drop that tension held on your shoulders, breathe out shakily, and feel the clutches of your sorrow let go of your bleeding heart to let you mend your broken heart with the bliss of the twins signs of life. The first signs that they’re viable.

“That’s them?” You muse breathlessly and watch Shoko move her wand to focus on the second baby.

“Yes!” Shoko exclaims happily and turns the machine around to show you numbers on the screen you don’t quite understand. “From what I read their heart rates are good. Strong. You have some strong babies.” She beams at you and turns her head to just take a moment to listen, letting you pull your phone out to record the session for Choso. You don’t want him to miss the first time you hear their heartbeats; he’d be crushed.

And yes it’s not the same as being here in the same room, but due to your circumstances, you weren’t granted the pleasure of being together for this special moment. He should understand that, and hopefully, he'll have a greater opportunity of being with you when you see the twins for the first time. If something comes up then, then you’ll wait for him to be with you.

“So tell me one more time,” you interject just to double check for you, and so Choso can hear when he listens to the video. “Their heartbeats sound strong? Healthy?”

Shoko meets your gaze and nods. “Yes,” she reassures you. “They’re strong for how small they are. Don’t worry.”

You sigh with relief and smile down at your belly as you relish in the sound of the music of their hearts, forgetting for a moment what chaos awaits you outside and what agonizing sorrow is waiting to dig itself back in you; you can feel it’s sharp claws trying to claw itself back in to keep hurting you in the worst way imaginable.

You almost just want to fight it off and drown yourself in the sound of your twin's heartbeats since it brings you so much bliss, but once again you have to remind yourself that people need you. They need your strength to fight off the demon monster that goes by the name Sukuna.

Thus, after a few long minutes, you stop recording and meet Shoko’s gaze to speechlessly let her know that it’s okay to stop listening in.

However, she’s the one who hesitates, seeming to want to get lost in the sound of something miraculous instead of having to endure more pain, but she pulls herself away and turns off the device, bringing an end to your bliss and welcoming back your sorrow and grief.

“Before you leave,” Shoko fills the silence and utters your name almost hesitantly before she drags her chair back to able to hold your gaze—“can I share something with you about Suguru? Is that okay? Or is it weird?”

No matter how deeply in love you are with someone else, talking about Suguru will never be a weird topic or something you avoid. You’ll limit yourself out of respect for Choso, but you’ll never hide away from talking about your first love,

“No, it's not weird,” you assure your friend. “Go ahead.”

You let your obi belt fall back in place and slouch to wait.

“It’s about something he told me 11 years ago. The day I ran into him for the first time after what he did,” Shoko explains and then exhales deeply, causing her eyes to soften with a hint of sympathy as if the wounds of his passing are still new and fresh.

“It’s not specific, but he said to tell you that he knew the answer to your question. It was “yes, I would want nothing else.”

You blink in confusion and press your mind hard so it can remember what he was referring to because it does sound familiar.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you but with everything going on I never had time, and when you brought him in I remembered. Sorry,” she backs up her comment with guilt.

“No,” you counter back right away so she knows you don’t actually blame her for anything. “I understand, but he didn't say anything else?”

Her eyes suddenly widen and she rummages through her pocket before pulling out a folded paper that looks quite old.

“This,” she blurts and hands it to you. “He gave me this to give to you. I brought it with me today since I knew you’d bring him back.”

You look at her curiously before you drop your eyes to the paper and quickly unfold it. When you spread the paper out your breath hitches when you see that it’s your favorite poem, “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.”.

He wanted you to have it. He remembered. Which isn’t surprising, but…after all these years your heart can’t help but swoon, and help you remember what he was referring to.

“We hadn’t been dating long,” you tell Shoko so she wasn't left wondering. “As you know. But I knew it in my heart that I wanted forever with him, especially when we got back together, so,” you pause and smile softly at the poem in your hands. “I asked him if he wanted forever with me. If he could wait for me to come back from training with Yuki, and he never got to answer because we got interrupted…” you trail off and instead of crying you manage to keep your eyes dry and just smile with glee as you feel wrapped up by his love once again.

Even if he’s gone, you feel his loving embrace, and you smile at that.

“Thank you Shoko,” you whisper and finally get off the chair.

Your friend mirrors you and watches you carefully as you tuck away your poem as if expecting you to burst out in tears.

“I need to go find Choso now,” you cut your conversation there before you can keep lingering here with her.

“Are you okay?” She makes sure to ask while you walk away.

You peer back at her and nod. “Yes,” you tell her with no sign of deceit. “I’m okay about the Suguru thing. I mourned him earlier, and I cried, I’m okay. Thank you. Now,” you change the subject. “I’ll text you if anything happens okay? And if you need any help text me or ask Kirara, understand?”

“Well considering I’m not a child, yes,” she quips, making you smirk and stop for a brief moment to solidify a previous promise.

“I’ll be back, okay?”

Shoko draws in a deep breath and you watch her eyes gleam with tears clouding her eyes. “You better,” she mutters.

You offer her one last smile and head out.

And before you know it, after rushing to find Choso first and foremost, you spot him from afar; his buns that don’t actually work to keep his hair down, his purple vest that matches his scarf, and his white robe that's stained with…blood. A lot of blood.

Choso is on the ground hunched over, but you notice the blood from where you stopped and suddenly everything goes dark and time comes to a sudden halt. Nothing else exists but him, there. Nothing else matters to you but him bleeding out from wounds you can’t see from here or by the way he’s sitting, you can’t even tell if he’s breathing. He’s too far and he’s not moving.

He’s not moving…

No…please…no…

“Choso?!” You can’t wait, you have to cry out for him. “Choso?!”

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Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

#fanfiction #sugar #damn-stark #jjk fanfiction #jjk #chapter 36 #jjk manga #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto suguru fanfiction #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x fem!reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #choso fanfiction #choso x reader #choso x fem!reader #choso kamo fanfiction #choso kamo fluff #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #suguru geto #suguru geto fanfiction #kenjaku #takaba fumihiko #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru #yuta okkotsu

[dellalyra]

FAMILY FORMATIONS - PART TWELVE

Summary: He’s home. He’s here. Maybe, you can mend the shattered pieces of your lives.

CW: I’m sorry this is so angsts but like so fluffy too?? But angst? Idk it’s a hot mess of emotions. Swearing, loss, grief, grief, grief, like one suggestive sentence.

A/N: do we like voting on what comes next?? I think that’s fun. Anyway - legit kinda proud of this, I’ve written like a million thirsts on how fucking delicious unsealed gojo looks but I was so excited to explore the toll and emotions of the prison realm situation on the FF gang and also show that there is no couple more healthy and solid than Y/N and Satoru. As always, requests open and appreciated x x

MASTERLIST

Recommended Listening:

The Parting Glass - (I like the Hozier version, works well for Y/N and Gojo discussing the losses)

What He Wrote - Laura Marling

Set Fire To The Third Bar - Snow Patrol

The Blower's Daughter - Damien Rice (the turnaround)

I am the AntiChrist to You - NuDeco

Ensemble, Kishi Bashi (the ending)

Yuuji’s voice, calling your name echoes through your head. You had no idea whether the unsealing worked or not. The box, it was gone. So now, you just sat staring at the skyline – trying to comprehend the fact that maybe, he was just gone. The angel – she’d done her part and the world had shook and you hoped that maybe, just maybe, that was a sign that your love was back in the mortal realm.

You waited, and stood, and waited, and watched.

Was this it? Had the world been left on your far too heavy shoulders? All the grief, the panic, the anger, the blood – was all of that yours to carry alone now? You couldn’t. You would fail. Without him, there was no hope. You wouldn’t be able to protect your family, your friends, yourself – at least Akio was out of Japan, but everyone else – you would die to protect them, even though you knew it would be the last thing to do.

The sun was beginning to set, you stood on the balcony of this flat – some stranger’s home, who had been quick to leave Tokyo – and you wished for the warmth of the cottage. The home Gojo and you had bought not long after graduation: with its plush sofas, and art spread around – some Tsumiki’s, some your families. The kitchen where many nights and so many important moments and memories had been made along with every dinner, you, Satoru – eating take out on the first night in your new home. The first night Megumi had asked for seconds a few weeks after they moved in, the table you signed the adoption papers for them, where Kento had told you both he was returning to sorcery, countless wine drunk nights with Shoko, where you and Satoru had told the Fushiguro kids that they were getting a sibling, where Akio had shouted his first word ‘cake!’, where Megumi had told you about his feelings for Itadori. All the kids room, and the spare rooms which had turned into other people’s de facto bedrooms. The master bedroom, nights wrapped up in tangles of limbs and sweat oh such sweet pleasure that everything else faded away or wrapped in blankets and each other's loving arms – whispers of eternity passing with the pillows as witness, falling asleep marvelling at the beauty of the moonlight bouncing off the Snow White hair of the ethereal man who you some got to call your husband splayed across the pillow beside you. You would often trace his features in his sleep, so at peace and restful and so beautiful that you couldn’t help but fall into dreams next to him. Your garden, where you grew everything from seed – peonies, sunflowers, roses, dahlias, lupins, lobelias and sweet pea and wisteria and most fruit and vegetables that you could dream of.

You’ve been holding everything in for so long – 19 days. You can’t falter. Not yet.

Please, ‘toru. Please come home to me.

You’re lost in your memories and hopes that somehow, the unsealing worked, and your beautiful boy will find you and love you and be beside you again – and then you will feel whole. Then, your soul and his will be complete.

The sliding door of the balcony breaks your trance.

“I’ll be in soon, Yuuji. Just enjoying the sunset.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll find us some food. Leave your jeans out, I’ll mend them later.” You’re listing off the things you need to do because if you just keep going then maybe time will move faster and he will be home. Home with you.

“Y/N. Turn around.”

You slowly do as he asks.

“Hey, Princess.”

The bow clutched tightly in your hand clattered to the ground and you follow soon after, the legs and body that has been holding you steady and shouldering the fear and grief of all of your loved ones, gives way – as your knees buckle and make contact with the hard ground beneath you.

He’s alive, and he’s safe and he’s here.

A sob wracks your body and all that manages to come out of you shaking lips is,

“‘Toru?”

And then your senses are engulfed, and you are home. Strong, steady arms pull you tight against a broad, heaving chest which you feel letting out shaky breaths.

“I – Satoru, fuck, I didn’t know if you’d come back, I thought I’d lost you forever, I didn’t know if it worked I needed to believe – oh god, you’re here., I couldn’t feel you at all, oh my god you’re here and you’re real. ‘Toru. I tried my best and I failed, and everything’s fallen apart and –” your sobs almost made your words unintelligible, but Satoru knew what you were saying and what you meant.

“You’re safe, you did so good. I’m here, my brave, strong girl.” He whispers into your hair.

You pull away and your hands are flying everywhere on his body, checking for injuries and any sign of something wrong but he’s okay, he’s strong and he’s here.

All you can do is grab him by the messy, snowflake white hair and pull him into your face to crash your lips against in a desperate, messy kiss full of unspoken words of love unconditional and reassurance that you both need, and the promise of safety in your reunion.

“Princess, Akio – where is he?” He says, petting your hair. You two would get to the issue of your eldest son in a minute, but the baby – he needed to know where his baby was.

“Safe – I sent him with my mom and uncle and he’s not in Japan. I got him out of the country.” Your words comfort you both, knowing the 18-month-old was safe and sound.

“Akio is safe but ‘toru – you know, don’t you? Megumi – that bastard, he took him. He’s with Ge- Kenjaku.” You stare into his eyes. Your husband was the only one who could fix this mess, but you really were trying to ignore what that meant.

“I know. I’ve seen him. But Y/N, he’s alive. He’s in there and he’s alive. I’ll get our little boy back.” You collapse into him, and him into you.

You realise he’s got no idea about the loss. The grief and the fact that you should be mourning but you don’t have time because everything is falling apart. He needs to know – and he needs to know now and from you, before he realises it or someone says something, he deserves to be told and he deserves it softly because the isolation and suffering he’s endured for 19 days have taken an inevitable toll and he needs you.

You suck in a deep breath and realise everyone else has long left the area. It’s just you both. Steadying yourself, as best as you can, you pull him into you – gripping the sides of his face so you can see that beautiful face.

“Satoru. Before you hear from anyone else – I need you to hear it all from me. Okay?” You say, pressing tearful kisses into his hairline.

“Please Y/N. I need to know; I need to know who we’re fighting for. There’s faces I didn’t see beside Yuuji and Maki and - I’m scared. I’m scared Y/N but please, God, please tell me now.” His voice is filled with despair and vulnerability that only you’ve seen.

“Are you sure?” You ask, pulling him to look in your eyes.

“Please.” He whispers.

“Satoru - it’s, we lost Nanami. He’s gone, Yuuji was there. He died at Shibuya.” Your voice breaks, his closest friend, Akio’s godfather - he’s gone. Only you, Shoko and Gojo were left now.

A sob wracks his body, and he grips your shoulders and leans into your chest, the pain of seeing him like this feels like it might rip open your chest and all you want to do is cry with him but fuck, the list is longer.

“Yaga is dead. Executed. Nobara, she’s alive but… they,” your voice breaks, “they don’t know if she’ll make it. You’ve been branded a traitor, me your accomplice. Mai Zen’in, she’s dead but Maki… she’s slaughtered the Zen’in clan. Alone. Yuuta’s home.” You try to explain the culling games and other events but everything feels like it’s coming out jumbled as you and Satoru just remain, a crumpled mess of limbs on the ground. Shaking, scarred – but together.

After some time of just – grieving and feeling each other’s presence, you convince him to come inside your temporary space and sleep and eat.

Once you’ve both settled, as much as you both can, you call a meeting of your small group. Satoru immediately goes into defence mode when a figure, unknown to him as an ally – enters the room.

“Oh, you’ve come to play, curse? What, tired of being used by Kenjaku, huh?” He sneers, and puzzle pieces click as you whip in front of him as he leans to lunge toward the tall, dark figure beside Yuuji.

“Satoru! Stop!” You say, softly.

And he does.

“This – is Choso. He’s Yuuji’s brother. Geto manipulated him. He’s safe – I trust him. He saved my life.” You grab his shoulders to ground him, knowing that the whirlwind of events was causing a torrent of emotions in him.

Choso nods, still new to the world, having been used like a lamb to the slaughter and having witnessed nothing but bloodshed and destruction since his birth. He reminds you a bit of yourself. Living solely to protect the ones you love, maybe that’s why you were so quick to accept him into your fold. He had quickly become one of your most trusted friends in the group, vowing to you, as the woman who cared for his brother that he would help retrieve your husband and son.

That evening, information was exchanged, plans drawn up, theories explored and through everything, Satoru and you never let go of each other – Akio was far away, but safe, Megumi – trapped by a monster inside his own body, the body of your best friend being used like a marionette with a date written in blood to fight the man you love, Nobara – on death’s door. Kento, gone forever.

But in those hours, hope was born.

Satoru had returned.

He was safe, and alive – and you had each other. All shadows seemed smaller by each other's side.

And now, you both had one shared goal – the most dangerous and potentially costly mission of your lives.

You were going to get your little boy back, together.

That night, in his darkest abyss, a shivering, broken boy heard and saw something.

He had no idea how, but he knew it was real.

Two clasped hands, golden rings shining, one hand smaller and the outlines of a vine tattoo tracing the wrist and one hand larger, pale with slender fingers clasping the smaller fingers.

‘Mom, dad?’ His weakened voice whispered into the vision.

‘We’re coming, kid.’ Satoru Gojo, his dad.

‘We’ve got you, ‘gumi.’ Y/N, his mom.

They were coming for him, together.

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