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snippychicke · 1 month

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Poppy Seeds --Part Two

Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy.

Dogday/Player!reader (attempting keeping it gender neutral)

Warnings: will touch on the after effects of trauma, but nothing is super explicit. Maybe some unhealthy coping skills (Dogday holding Reader on a pedestal) But otherwise we're giving everyone a happy ending. (Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts)

@twistedcece wanted tagged, anyone else?

Four: Water

It did end up raining later that afternoon. You had found Ollie a fresh change of clothes and had been showing the four around the farm. Thankfully, the day was warm enough that the cold droplets weren’t going to chill anyone too much, though Ollie squeaked as soon as the first droplet hit him.

It was just a light spring shower, but it was still tricky to convince Ollie to come out from the chicken coop he had taken shelter in. It wasn’t until you decided to join the others that he slowly peeked out, sunken eyes wide.

Kissy was twirling in the middle of the drive, her arms spread wide and her smile bright as ever. Poppy had her own arms outstretched, her face tilted up against the tickling drops and a smile on her eternally-painted lips. Dogday was brightly laughing as he pulled you out from the sheltered area to where several puddles were quickly forming.

Seeing you and Dogday stomping in the water looked far too fun for the boy to ignore, and soon he was brave enough to leave his place of safety (to the relief of the hens not used to the small child in their home). IT took him a moment to get used to the constant patter on his skin, but both you and Dogday were becoming him closer with open hands.

Laughter soon echoed in the air as the three of you would stomp from puddle to puddle. Kissy and Poppy didn’t join in --both not fond of getting muddy-- but enjoyed watching the three of you, two acting like overgrown kids and one finally able to act his age.

Things seemed perfect.

---

Later, Kissy and Poppy had corralled Ollie into the upstairs bathroom for a ‘proper’ bath. Judging from the splashing and outraged squeals from Poppy, the boy was still enjoying the new lease on childhood… or maybe Kissy had decided to join in the impishness. You weren’t sure, and was more focused on Dogday anyways.

Your bedroom had its own bathroom, complete with an old large clawfoot tub that Dogday was able to sit in, though it was a tight fit. So you had taken it upon yourself to grab a basin and a few washcloths to scrub his back that was still coated in sticky things you rather not think about while he handled the rest.

“I wish I could have done better on these stitches,” you offered as you gently cleaned around the sloppy uneven stitches where you had sewn his bottom half back on. The thread you had been able to find was a bright neon green and easy to see against his tan hair, and the ‘hide’ of his top half flapped over a bit of his bottom half since you had no idea how else to stitch the pieces together. Sewing has never been your forte.

You swore magic had to be involved, considering that a simple sewing together and undoing the tourniquet had somehow ‘healed’ the connection and he could feel and control his lower body once more.

“They’re fine,” Dogday reassured, currently scrubbing a stubborn stain on his arm. “The fact you were able to fix me in the first place is a miracle in itself, angel.”

“I know,” you whined, unable to stop glaring at the poor stitchwork. “But it’s green. And all wonky…”

He paused to look down at the stitching, a fond expression on his face (though you couldn’t see it.) “I like it that way. It’s a visual reminder of how much you cared.”

Your heart thumped at his words, and you bit your lip. It had been an act of desperation… but he wasn’t wrong. You had cared-- you had been terrified that you would do something to hurt him. To cause him to die no matter what you did. You wanted to save him-- to be able to save someone.

The memory threatened to overwhelm you, and you dropped your washcloth so you could wrap your arm around his shoulders, uncaring that you were getting your clothes wet by hugging him.

You had been so close to losing him. Close to losing your own life. Failing everyone yet again after you had failed years prior.

“Angel?” Dogday managed to shift, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, cradled against his body as you cried. “What is it?”

“I-I-” you stuttered, clenching your eyes as if you could push those memories out of your mind. Not just of him, but of everything. It was like a crack had formed and everything you had stubbornly ignored came rushing in.

“Oh Angel,” he sighed as if he understood, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart. It's okay.”

“How can you call me that?” You choked out. “I-I left all of you, ten years ago. I saw what they were doing and I ran away.”

“You were little more than a child yourself,” was not the answer you were expecting. As if he remembered just like Mommy Longlegs had. “Probably a bright-eyed intern or something, am I right?”

You weakly nodded your head. You had been so excited when your application had been accepted. Everyone was hushed about the project, but they were looking for brilliant minds to help lead the future. You had been chosen out of hundreds of others. You had signed so many non-disclosure and other legal papers you thought it was weird for a toy factory but dismissed it as corporate paranoia.

You didn't realize why until you stumbled upon that first file. Realized the toys looking after the kids weren't advanced animatronics. You hadn't discovered the whole story, but enough to send you running for the hills.

Literally.

You quit everything, and ran away into the woods hoping they would never find you.

“Besides, you came back. And now we're here. Safe.” His thumb wiped at your tears. “Cuddling in a bathtub.”

The last but made you laugh despite yourself and helped bring you back into the moment. You had to admit, it probably looked odd; giant Dogday squished in the tub with you--a full grown adult--more or less cradled in his arms. Both of you now thoroughly wet.

Your laugh made his smile widen faintly. “There we go. I know we'll all have hard days, but as long as we're here for each other, I think we'll get through it.”

Five: Wait

“I won’t be gone long, I promise,” you had said as you climbed into your truck. Without him. Dogday had all but whined at you, unashamed at the puppy-eye expression he gave you. “Day,” you had sighed, leaning out the window to cup his cheek as he leaned down. “I’m sorry, but the back is going to be full when I come back. And besides, who’s going to look after them?”

He should have pointed out that Kissy and Poppy were well able to deal with anything, the two girls were much more capable than they appeared. However, he had quietly conceded and stood back, allowing you to disappear down the steep drive.

That had been early this morning. Nearly five hours ago.

Dogday had barely moved from his spot, waiting to see the sunlight glint off your truck as it climbed the driveway. Or to hear its engine grumble as it approached. What if something happened to you? His sweet angel? He may have been trapped in the factory all those years, but he still knew the outside world could be just as dangerous. Especially to someone sweet and kind as you.

“You’re really whipped, aren’t you?” Poppy spoke as Kissy approached, carrying the smaller doll on her shoulder. “When I said they’d be our angel to come save us, I didn’t think you would take it this far.”

“They saved me,” he answered, his eyes still focused on this distance. He meant more than just his life, when he was strung up like a piece of meat for the miniatures to come feast upon. When he had been so blinded by rage and the need for revenge…

He could still see your eyes through the thick glass of the gasmask, begging him to stop. Your voice as you asked him to spare Catnap’s life because there had been enough death.

“If that doesn’t deserve loyalty, I don’t know what else would.”

“Loyalty. Right.” Poppy sighed, shaking her head. “You sure you’re not suffering from a bad case of puppy-love?”

Dogday paused, his thoughts screeching to a halt at her words. Kissy Missy giggled behind her yellow hand as he struggled with the idea. Puppy love? Certainly not. What he felt wasn’t all warm, fuzzy, yet superficial.

It was deep and all encompassing to the point it almost overwhelmed him sometimes when he looked at you. Whether covered in blood and dust with a look of grisly determination, or freshly showered and wet hair clinging to your face while you laughed, you were his angel. He’d do anything for you.

“Not puppy love… but I do love them.”

Just as the admission left his voice box, he heard the grumble of an engine, and looked down the road to see your old truck making its way up the zig-zagging path, the bed filled with things as you had predicted. His tail slowly started to wag behind him, belying his excitement and joy.

He loved you so much, and he didn’t care if you never felt the same. As long as you let him stay by your side day after day, he’d be happy.

Even if he had to wait sometimes.

Six: Memories

Ollie may have been naive to things you presumed as common knowledge, but when it came to technology, he was a veritable genius. Considering he had to use the old machines to often run and hide from the others in the factory, it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

The scrawny boy was able to help you hook up the various equipment you had brought home with you amongst the tons of groceries. A scanner, an old VHS reader, and an internet router with enough power to accomplish what you wanted.

You hadn’t left the factory empty handed, after all. Dozens of VHS tapes, hundreds of files and loose papers. You had collected every bit of proof you could. And you were going to finish Rowan's work.

“Are you sure about this?” Ollie asked as you popped the first VHS tape to convert into a digital file. “You’re going to be in big trouble if they find out…”

“I should have done this a long time ago,” you said with determination. “Besides, I promised everyone else. They’ve waited long enough.”

Poppy and the others were silent. This had been part of Poppy’s plan all along, after all. Bring the crimes of Playtime Co to light and assure nothing like this happens again.

Yet your hands shook as you scoured for the email address for every news company and journalist you could find. You remembered what Playtime did to Rowan, and while their factory had been decommissioned a decade ago, it was hardly the only one. They were still one of the largest companies on the scene.

Who’s to say that similar things weren’t happening there? More than one had an orphanage on site, after all.

This would certainly be their downfall, and they were bound to come after you if given half the chance. This little piece of heaven that you had these last few days would be stolen away from you…

Dogday leaned on you from behind, lanky arms wrapped around your shoulders while his chin rested on your head. The heavy weight was comfortable, as was the soft scent of vanilla that you had worked back into his fur after his bath the other day.

“Nothing is going to happen to Angel,” he growled softly. “Or any of us. We’ll protect our new home.”

“Our family,” Poppy added quietly, and got a determined nod from Kissy and a cheer from Ollie. You relaxed into Dogday’s embrace, wrapping your fingers around his arms.

--*--

Dogday and Catnap circled each other, growls and snarls echoing in the small chamber. Red Mist filled the air, yet somehow Dogday was still awake. Aware of what was reality and what was a waking nightmare.

Catnap had not expected to see his old friend again after ripping him in half and sacrificing him to the miniatures. All these years and he thought Dogday was with him--with the Prototype-- and only to learn he sided with her. Poppy. And you. The one Dogday called angel.

Dogday finally made the first move, swinging a broken pipe he had been carrying. Normally Catnap could avoid it, but his feet stumbled over the debris hidden in the thick red mist.

“Stop it!” You screamed, voice muffled by your gasmask as you suddenly appeared out of the mist. Dogday nearly slammed the pipe into you, but stopped a hairbreadth away. Catnap was just as stunned as his counterpart as you stood protectively between the two large beings.

“There’s been enough death,” you continued as Dogday lowered his weapon. “I know he hurt you. I know he’s done a lot wrong, but…”

“He doesn’t deserve your mercy, angel,” Dogday growled softly. “None of us do, but especially not him.”

You shook your heads, arms still stretched wide. “Maybe, but I’m tired of all this death. Everyone’s been wronged here. The horrors that you all went through, even before the Hour of Joy. It has to end, and I want it to end now.”

You protected him. Stood up against the Prototype when He came down and tried to end Catnap’s life and steal his body to integrate with His. Catnap vividly remembered the determined expression on your face as you faced off against his fake-god.

You… were merciful. Kind. Real. While the Prototype had stayed to himself, distant from everyone else, you walked with them. You had taken those four away from the factory, swearing to those left behind that help would soon come.

You would save them.

Catnap had to waitfor little less than a week before seeing your promise come to fruition. Not years, or another decade of pain and suffering. Less than a week and all sorts of people were swarming the factory.

You had made everything public knowledge, so the company or anyone else couldn’t just sweep them under a rug and dispose of them. He watched as humans cared for the little ones, offering the food and water that they had been deprived of for so long. PJ Pug-a-pillar, Huggy Wuggy, and others he didn’t know were still alive were pulled from the hands of death and into life. Freedom.

He could have stepped into the light and joined them. He knew the miniatures would be happy about that…yet watching one of miniature counterparts huddle close with its brethren, all of them with juice boxes and blankets, reminded him harshly of what he had done. He had done so much in the name of that false-god…

He had to find The Savior and do what he could to be redeemed.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday poppy playtime #dogday x reader #dogday/reader #dogday x player #dogday/player #poppy #kissy missy #ollie

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luminetti · 7 months

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𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 ༺♡༻ Chapter 1

༘⋆ Summary: In the world of Faerûn, a new season of love begins for the upper echelons in the nation's capital Baldur’s Gate, gathering a plethora of unwed Lords and Ladies from across the nation. For Miss y/n Neredras, the season only promises another disappointing series of suitors and failed courting, until one night she suddenly finds Lord Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep on her doorstep with a gunshot wound through his stomach, seeking discreet refuge and recovery after a devastating duel. ༘⋆ Pairing: lord!gale dekarios x fem!reader/tav, brief wyll x reader, mentions of (previous) mystra x gale ༘⋆Warnings: blood and bullet wounds, eventual hurt/comfort, mystra's weird predatory behavior (fuck mystra) ༘⋆Notes: set in the regency era and very loosely inspired by bridgerton (I’ve never watched it). i had to make a lot of edits to make this work out how i want so keep in mind that the following changes have been made: - Faerûn and Waterdeep are neighboring countries - Baldur’s Gate is the capital of Faerûn - Mystra (and all the gods) is human - Mystra lives in Waterdeep - Gale is 21 and reader is around 19 (something something, regency age for marriage, something)

༘⋆ Chapters: ┆[1] ┆[2]┆[3]┆[4]┆[5]┆[6] ┆[7] ┆

ao3

You cursed yourself for getting in such a position as you heaved a bloodied body onto your goose down bed sheets, dark sticky crimson clinging to your skin and the front of your white nightgown. The body landed with a soft flump, leaving a suspicious looking trail of blood towards the center of your bed. Normally you were against opening the door for strange men in the middle of the night, but a gunshot wound to the stomach usually prohibited acts of violence, unless the attacker wanted to bleed out to death, so you deemed it safe enough. You made sure to grab a fire poker from the fireplace on your way back from the medicine cabinet, just in case.

Blood was beginning to pool underneath the man, signaling that if you were to do anything, it had to be done with haste. Fighting back a gag at the tangy metal aroma, you undid his vest and undershirt, pulling it off and discarding it somewhere on the floor. The bullet had thankfully wedged itself near the surface of his flesh making it an easy grab with a pair of tweezers. The wound itself proved to be more of a challenge. Stitches were required to stop the bleeding, but the needle slipped around between your fingers, and attempting to wipe the slick blood off your hands just made more of a mess. After a bit of adjusting, and a lot of wiping, you finally managed a messy line of seven uneven stitches.

For the first time in the past half hour, the thumping of your heartbeat began to fade from your ears, allowing you to process what had just happened.

You took a moment to look him over. He looked around your age. Around twenty– no, twenty-one? It was hard to tell with so much hair in his face. From what you could make out, he appeared to be a reasonably attractive man. Perhaps a bit unkempt, you thought, but as to be expected at this time of night. With his chestnut brown hair, he vaguely reminded you of Clyde, your childhood dog. Though intended as a compliment, you made a mental note to keep that one to yourself when–if ever–he awoke. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that was drawing you to the curve of his jawline, but with a start, you realize you had been staring for far too long. Blinking away your daydreams, you see the scene in front of you as it truly is.

There was a body in your bed.

You frantically reach over the bed to press two fingers firmly against his neck, feeling around for a pulse. Was he even still alive? A slow and faint periodical throb against your fingertips pulls a heavy sigh of relief out of your weary body, and you slump against the side of the bed. Thank the gods.

Unfortunately, the fact he was alive did not solve the strange-man-in-bed issue. Once he had been securely wrapped in several layers of bandages–any more and he may appear mummified–you weren’t sure what else there was to do. So, you recruited the only person in the household that could keep their mouth shut. Your older sister, Euphemia.

“By Jove, sister… you’ve killed a man…” Euphemia looked pale-faced and wide eyed in horror at the seemingly lifeless body and blood adorning your room.

“Stop it.” You hissed under your breath, closing the bedroom door behind her. “He’s not dead. And would you keep your voice down?”

Euphemia looked from you to the body, then to your crimson hands and nightgown. “Are you to tell me he is… sleeping?” She asked, incredulously, her voice quavering.

You sighed, exasperated. You grabbed her wrist, much to her resistance, and forcefully pressed her fingers against his neck. “There. He is very much alive. Now will you please help me?”

Your sister sighed in relief. “Gods… He looks mauled.” She eyed your butchered stitchings. “Not a slight on your abilities, of course. Spoken from a place of love.”

“Mock me all you want when we break fast, sister.” You toss her a wet washcloth. “As for now, make haste and wipe down the headboard. I’ll deal with the floor.”

“I merely jest.” She replied, rounding the bed beside the body.

As she approached the unconscious man, she froze, the cloth in her hand dropped to the ground as you heard a sharp intake of breath. Startled, you jump up from your knees.

“Hells, are you hurt?” You turned, expecting to see a splinter or bruise. Alas, Euphemia just stood shell shocked, staring down towards the body. You looked at the man yourself, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Euphemia leaned closer to the body and swept the hair from his face. “I’ve seen this man’s portrait before.” She crouched beside him, studying his features. “It was in a museum of art from other nations.” Closing her eyes, she recounted the museum. “It was a family portrait. So this must be…” Euphemia turned back to you, mystified. “The Viscount of Waterdeep.”

You stared at her. “...Who?”

“The Viscount, Lord Gale Dekarios.”

✣ ✣ ✣

The rest of the night–technically the early morning–passed surprisingly peacefully, with the only hiccup being a lack of bed space. Euphemia made sure to chide you thoroughly for even suggesting that she take Gale to her room instead. In your defense, he had a larger bed than yours. After some back and forth, Euphemia declared that she’d be ruined if someone found her alone with a foreign Viscount, and her hopes of being courted would be gone. You, however, were newer to the season and very much single–which she didn’t hesitate to enunciate–and therefore could afford a scandal or two.

Cursing her under your breath, you reluctantly slipped under the covers, a good sixteen inches apart from the supposed Viscount. Despite everything, you easily drift off into a sound sleep.

A sudden shift in the bed startles you awake. Groggily, you sat up to see early morning sunrays softly beaming through your windows. Your mind clouds with exhaustion as you attempt to recall the night prior. In your fatigue you barely manage to picture a sharp jawline and soft brown hair. A dream, you conclude. Just another fantasy to forget about. You were about to lean back down when you heard the soft squeak of your bed spring from beside you, followed by a hushed murmur.

“Shit.”

Turning towards the voice, you came face to face with a pair of warm chestnut eyes, staring straight back at you. Lord Gale Dekarios–very much not from a dream–stood with one knee on your bed and his other foot on your floor, attempting to leave without a sound. His face was tense with pain and his hand pressed over the wet bandages covering his wound.

You made no move to stop him, merely watching as he gawked at you dumbstruck like a child with his hand trapped in a cookie jar. “What are you doing?” you asked.

It was as if you had two heads with the way he stared at you.

“My deepest apologies for the intrusion last night,” he managed to stammer out, quickly collecting himself and beginning to stand from the bed. “By Jove, I will leave right away-”

“Why?” You cut him off.

He choked out a confused sputter. “Pardon?”

You gestured to his bloodied bandages. “You are injured. Are you not?”

His eyes flicked to the wound before returning to your questioning gaze. “I am.” He replied, slowly.

“So sit. Unless you mean to walk home.” Standing from the bed, you scoured the room for the remainder of the bandages you brought from before.

Gale hesitantly perched himself on the edge of your bed frame, unsure how to proceed. After a couple moments of watching you flit around the room, he cleared his throat. “Pray tell, which residence am I in the company of?”

Upon gathering the materials and medicines, you sat across from him, laying out the paraphernalia in between you both. “This is the Neredras Manor,” you replied, beginning to work on replacing his dark, oxidized bandages.

From up close you could finally make out his facial features in detail. His jawline was as you remembered, but his hair was finger-combed back against his neck, almost brushing against his shoulders. His atmosphere had changed as well. Despite his grim injuries, a warm feeling surrounded him, almost like an aura of liveliness. You leaned into him, passing the bundle of old bandages around his body as you unwrapped. In such close proximity you just barely manage to make out faint traces of spicy cinnamon, crisp parchment, and freshly lit firewood.

You froze and pulled back sharply. You had completely forgotten yourself. He hadn’t noticed, had he? You glanced up briefly, only to be immediately met by chestnut eyes that bore into you with a thousand-yard stare, and lips ever so slightly muttering to himself as if he was lost in thought.

“...Pretty.” Gale whispered, barely intelligible.

“What?”

Upon realizing you were staring right back at him, he quickly averted his eyes, finally breaking out of his stupor. “Sorry?” He cleared his throat, struggling to meet your gaze.

“Pretty?” You repeated, confused.

Gale sputtered, seemingly caught off guard before a look of mortified realization crossed his features. “Morning,” he declared abruptly. “Y-You are morning.” He paused. “I mean, it is morning.” He paused again. “I mean, It is a pretty morning,” he finally managed, eyes settling back on yours as a pale flush of pink crept up his neck, threatening to wrap around his cheeks.

You attempted to raise the back of your palm to feel his forehead, concerned, only to be intercepted by Gale as he caught your wrist and brought it back down to your lap.

“I assure you, I am perfectly well,” he took a deep breath, composing himself. “And usually better at this.” He added, pressing a customary kiss to the back of your hand. “All this and you don’t even know my name.”

“Well, actually–” you began.

“Gale Dekarios,” he vaunted, chest almost puffed, and you swear you’ve seen images of birds of paradise performing similar moves during a mating dance. Knowing he was a Viscount made the visual match far too well and you failed to stifle a chortle.

“Pleased to make your–” Gale faltered slightly at your reaction. “Did I do something?”

Struggling to pull yourself together, you shake your head breathlessly. “No, it’s nothing. It’s just, I know who you are already.”

He looked puzzled. “You do?”

Nodding, you let out a deep breath, overcoming your brief laughing fit. “My older sister is quite the socialite. She recognized you from your portrait.”

From his impressed expression, you caught yourself wondering if they would be a good match. Euphemia was always fond of the idea of marrying a Viscount, like your mother had, not to mention she was up to date on all the drama of the ton.

An unfamiliar sensation twisted in your gut, unnoticeable until you focused on it. You hadn’t had breakfast yet so it was likely just hunger. But strangely, this hunger was creeping up from your stomach, almost residing in your chest with a faint pang.

You stood up sharply, pushing down the strange feelings. “You must be hungry, my Lord.”

Gale’s eyes flicked around your face, almost as if he was studying you. “I could eat,” he finally spoke. “And please, just Gale.”

Nodding quickly, you turned on your heel and briskly left your room, closing the door behind you. The twinge in your chest finally simmered, leaving your cheeks slightly flushed and blood nearly warm. You let yourself fall against your door, breathing deeply.

Suitors had come and gone before, and once he healed, Gale Dekarios would be nothing more than a man you met for a day.

#gale dekarios x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #alternate universe #bg3 #bg3 x reader #gale dekarios #wizard of waterdeep #regency #tav bg3 #gale x tav #gale romance #regency au

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vapolis · 1 month

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So how does Echo look like ? And what's their specific fashion?

echo is above average in height and has tan skin. their nose has a noticeable bump in the middle and they have a fuller bottom lip.

their brows are bleached and they have snake bites as well as an uneven scar that goes from their jaw to just below their eye. their eyes are dark purple and their hair shaved at the sides and longer at the top. their hair texture is curly but due to bleach it's heavily damaged and changes color often. right now it's a frosty grey with grown in black roots which matches their frosty blue chip with black lines snaking through the metal. they tend to have patterns shaved into the sides of their head and one side bears a tattoo. their chest and back as well as both arms up to the knuckles are tattooed. both of their ears are pierced, however on the left side they wear a lone earring that dangles down to their throat. they tend to have some stubble across their cheeks. and one of their legs is a prosthetic in silver.

their style is oftentimes relaxed, but put together. big vests, graphic shirts and sweaters, patterned pants matching a sweater, an occasional pop of colour, chunky sneakers, oversized suits with dark blouses beneath, belts and chains, distressed jeans and hoodies, hand stitched accessories and big coats is what they tend to wear on a day to day basis.

#asks #c: echo #**appearances

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rottenpumpkin13 · 4 months

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Nooooo please please let’s just say Genesis found an old heartbeat teddy bear hidden away after snooping around the labs all day one time and it was something Lucrecia had made for Sephiroth before he was born that she planned to give him and it just said “For Sephiroth, from your mom” on it somewhere and Genesis waited a month to give it to Sephiroth for Christmas please 😭😭😭

"Is it going to jump out at me?"

The question made Genesis roll his eyes so hard it provoked an instantaneous headache. He groaned, shoving the gift bag towards Sephiroth.

"Of course not! Can't I do a nice gesture without you doubting the validity of my kindness?"

Sephiroth blinked. "You? No."

Genesis kissed his teeth, his irritation growing by the second as he pushed the gift bag into Sephiroth's hands.

Sephiroth sighed, reluctantly pulling at the silver ribbon as he prepared himself to be met with a venomous snake ready to fly out at him.

Genesis had dragged him out onto the balcony, away from the warm holiday party and under the snowfall for the sake of privacy. The older man was giddy, practically bouncing on his feet as he watched Sephiroth pull open the bag and look inside.

Sephiroth frowned, arching a single eyebrow as he looked from Genesis to the bag's contents.

"Well?" Genesis snapped impatiently, grinning. "Pull it out!"

Sephiroth reached in and grabbed the plush toy letting the bag flutter to the snowy ground. Its fur was soft and warm, a welcoming contrast to the frigid air around them.

It was light brown in color, with a yellow ribbon tied around its neck. The faint smell of cinnamon reached Sephiroth's nose. It was definitely a pricier stuffed animal. He recognized the brand stamp at the bottom of it's left foot. Leave it to Genesis to resort to designer goods even when selecting a teddy bear.

But what caught Sephiroth's attention was the back. There was a line of uneven, red stitching down it's length, as if someone had cut it open and messily sewn it back together.

"Genesis, what am I going to do with a child's toy?"

Genesis was far too excited to take offense to the ungrateful remark. He crossed his arms, still smiling.

"Squeeze it!"

"...What?"

"Just do it!"

Sephiroth's lips went crooked as he tentatively closed his hands around the teddy bear's middle, squeezing it gently.

At once, the toy began vibrating beneath his fingertips. Sephiroth's hearing picked up the faint sound of something rythmic.

Genesis barely contained his squeal as Sephiroth curiously lifted the bear to his ear, listening closely.

The thrum of a heartbeat echoed back at him.

"How curious," Sephiroth remarked, pulling the toy away from his ear. "Is it a human heartbeat?"

Genesis hesitated before nodding, his cheeks red from both the cold and previously smiling so hard.

"Not just any heartbeat," he said. "It's your mother's."

Sephiroth's jaw went slack as he took on an incredulous expression. "But—what do you—are you—are you playing a joke on me?"

Genesis shook his head, looking down at the teddy bear like it was as precious as he knew it was.

"A few months ago, I was snooping in Hollander's office back in banora. He had left me alone and I took the opportunity to pry."

Sephiroth listened closely.

"As it turned out," Genesis continued, "he had a box of items he had stolen from Professor Hojo. In that box were some tapes. They were mostly of little value, recordings he had made of himself rambling on and on about the most boring subjects."

Sephiroth's hands were shaking as he held the toy. He looked back down at it, his expression engulfed in disbelief and something soft.

"But one of them was rather interesting. He labeled it Sephiroth, comma, first trimester, comma, week two."

Sephiroth felt his own heart clench in his chest. He held the teddy bear tighter.

Genesis pressed on. "Since, to my knowledge you have never been pregnant, and because the tape was labeled the same year as your birth, I ascertained that it's your mother's heartbeat on that tape."

He shrugged. "Apparently a baby's heart only begins to beat after a month. So, if that was your mother at only two weeks of pregnancy, then that is indeed her heartbeat."

Sephiroth felt a tear roll down his cheek. His throat began closing in.

"So I transfered it into a voice box! Do excuse the stitching, though. It seems my talents are limited—Woah!"

Genesis was nearly swept off his feet as Sephiroth pulled him in for a hug. He opened his mouth to mock his friend for the unprompted affection, but the teasing died on his tongue. A choked cry reached his ears. Genesis' eyes widened.

Sephiroth cried into his shoulder, hugging him tighter and tighter as he cried.

A smile parted Genesis' face. He reached up to wrap his arms around Sephiroth's back, returning the hug.

"I'll take that as a 'thank you, Genesis, for the gift'."

Sephiroth lifted his head briefly.

Genesis' heart broke to see the amount of tears staining his face.

"Why?" was all he managed to ask before the sobs took over his body again.

Genesis reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. He understood Sephiroth's question, having spent enough time with the man to discern even that.

He wiped away Sephiroth's tears.

Sephiroth was asking why Genesis, of all people, would take the liberty of going through all that trouble for him.

"Because, Sephiroth," Genesis pocketed the handkerchief, then pulled Sephiroth in for another hug. "What are best friends for?"

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #ffvii crisis core #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #ff7r #writing

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kell-stitches · 1 year

Text

Tutorial: How to make 3D embroidered thistles

I'll start by saying that these are not the easiest element to create. It took me some experimenting to develop the technique and practice to actually make them well. I'll do my best to explain everything and I promise it will take a few tries, but trust the process and you'll be fine. They add such a beautiful and unique element to a piece so they’re worth the effort to learn

First, begin with the shape of your thistle. The middle bulb shape and lower leaf shape are what you'll actually be stitching, while the upper fan shape is more just for sizing reference

You'll want to measure the length of the thistle from the base of the bulb shape to the highest arc of the fan shape. It's not a bad idea to add a little extra length to account for trimming later on. Remember, you can always take away length, but you can’t add so it’s better to be generous. I went with 2 inches here

Next, using cardstock or cardboard, cut out a rectangle the size of the thistle you measured in the last step (2 in for me). Choose your color thread for the thistle fluff. I like using a mix of a dark and light purple to give it more depth

Wrap your threads continuously around the rectangle. I don't have an exact amount of times for this, just whatever feels right. When finished, use a threaded needle to create a tie at the bottom of the wrap and keep all the threads together

After you've made the tie, use a sharp pair of scissors to cut through the opposite end of the wrap. When you remove it from the rectangle, you should have this sort of folded pompom. Keep all the loose ends pointing up and the tie at the bottom

Place the pompom on your fabric, lining the tie with the bottom of the bulb shape with the loose ends facing up towards the fan shape. Make a straight stitch across with green thread where the bulb shape starts to secure the pompom in place. Create a series of similar straight stitches to help guide the shape and keep the pompom in place. You want the stitches tight enough to be secure, but not so tight as to really alter the shape so be a little gentle here

Keep making straight stitches until the whole pompom is covered with your green thread. Things may get a little tricky towards the bottom, but just take your time and stitch carefully and you'll be able to cover it properly

With the body down, let's work on the fluff. Gently brush the sharp end of your needle through the threads to help them separate and disperse. At this point, you'll notice some uneven threads at the top of the fluff. Just use your scissors to cut them away until you have a nice smooth arc (this is where the extra length comes in handy). You can repeat these steps until everything is neat

Lastly, use some simple straight stitches to fill in the leaf shape at the bottom. This last detail is rather small so you don't need stress too much over it, just get the general look of it and you'll be golden

Et violà! I know that's a lot of information to take in, but take your time and practice and I promise you'll be making them effortlessly! I hope this tutorial has helped! Happy stitching!

#embroidery #tutorial #fiber crafts #sewing #crafting #thistles #florals #needlecraft #diy

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Note

Now hold on!! What about an iceman blurb! Anything would work honestly

prompt I chose: I love the way your brain works.

"how's it going?" Ice asks from his spot on the sofa, glancing over at you on the loveseat. you're hunched over, eyes narrowed in concentration, lips tucked between your teeth. "don't hurt yourself."

"I'll bite you," you warn absently, not glancing up at him.

he smirks, just about to quip something witty back, when you drop your voice a few octaves and mock him, "I should be so lucky."

"trying to say I'm getting predictable or something, slugger?"

"love it when you talk baseball to me," you mutter, still not looking away from your deformed chain. "gets me real hot and bothered."

he can't wipe that grin off his face--that broad one that only you can stick on his lips for more than a few fleeting minutes.

your fingers are tangled in yarn, as are your forearms somehow, and you can't quite figure out how yarning over works or what the fuck chaining one even means. your concoction doesn't look great--hardly looks good, even--but it's much better than when you first started.

Ice knows that you're dedicated like this. you'll spend your day off picking up a new hobby and obsessively restart it until it begins to resemble something remotely successful. he admires it, really, how stubborn you are about it.

since this is a rare day off for him, too, he spent it doing the things he enjoys but hardly gets to do. he went for a run, grabbed decent coffee from the local roasterie, grilled steak for dinner. and now he's watching an old baseball game--except he's moreso been watching you diligently work on whatever it is you're making.

"whatcha making anyway?" Ice hums, raising his brows and craning his neck to look at the twists of yarn in his lap.

very seriously, you hold up a very uneven and pathetic rope that took you more time than you care to admit to complete, and look him dead in the eyes.

"a scarf," you tell him, "for you."

and dammit if he doesn't have a hard time keeping up that cool exterior. so much so that when he's at home with you, there's really no such thing as Iceman--he's just Tom. still, he tries to keep some semblance of composure.

"oh?" he asks, his heart pulsing with affection. with the baseball game still droning on in the background and totally forgotten, he pushes himself up on his elbows before nodding sharply for you to come to him. "c'mere. I wanna try it on."

you debate it for a moment, looking down at your creation. it isn't necessarily what you envisioned when you started out. it's certainly not thick enough to be a scarf--nor is it long enough to wrap around his throat twice.

"c'mon," he encourages, a grin tugging at his lips. "I won't bite."

and this time, Ice mocks you, raising his voice a few octaves and waggling his eyebrows: "I wish you would."

narrowing your eyes at him, but biting a smile all the same, you slink off the sofa and then settle yourself on his lap, a fair amount of blue yarn trailing behind you.

Ice, smirking, holds onto your thighs and watches as you detangle yourself from your creation, eyebrows knit.

"got it, slugger?"

"you're in the danger zone," you warn, all bark and no bite. "here."

he sits up and lets you wrap the scarf around his throat, never minding that it's the middle of summer in California or the fact that he only has on a tee-shirt and boxers right now.

and then you press your palms against his hard belly, lips pursed as you admire the color against his tanned skin. he's grinning up at you, massaging the meat of your thighs until you're squirming a bit.

"how do I look?" he asks.

sucking your teeth, you fidget with a particularly strange looking stitch.

"whipped," you answer honestly.

he barks out a big laugh and you keen.

"that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen," you chuckle. he's still laughing and now you're laughing harder, too. "I mean, really, don't wear that out of the house! it's bad!"

"no, it's not!" he insists.

groaning, you collapse on his chest, cheek pressed against his neck.

"I just wasted my day off," you complain, but he can still feel that smile on your lips, that chuckle in your throat.

he smooths his hands over your hair, humming.

"nuh-uh," he insists. "I love it. really, I do! I'm gonna wear it to work tomorrow."

"fat chance," you snort.

he teasingly pinches your sides until you're squeaking and burrowing deeper against the warm skin of his throat.

"how 'bout this," he starts, tucking your hair behind your ears and craning his neck to catch your gaze. "Mav's birthday's coming up. we could always...regift."

grinning, you hold his cheeks.

"I love the way your mind works."

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zombryz · 3 months

Text

: ̗̀➛ Sparks and Cursed Shadows

˗ˏˋ hello again, dear reader ˎˊ˗ Here is my new series :3

Chapter One

masterlist | Next Chapter 2 | ao3

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x afab!reader x Suguru Geto

A/N: hehehe I am so excited for this one. I've already written 20k words and are planning on posting once a week. I usually write these for myself and will almost always make the reader afab, however, I am always open to requests and can write for any gender. As always, thanks for reading my brain rot :3

Summary: Years had passed since you last saw him—the formidable sorcerer, Satoru Gojo, with his innate six eyes, your old classmate, and first love. When Suguru Geto decided to part ways with Jujutsu High and abandon sorcery altogether, you went with him, both of you unintentionally breaking Satoru's heart. Now, after years and years, your heart aches as Suguru, your now lover, succumbs to the ancient curse of Kenjaku. Suguru—no—Kenjaku threatens to kill Suguru inside of his own mind if you do not confront your once-beloved Satoru Gojo, killing him to bring balance back to the world of curses.

Warnings: (current, may change throughout the story) **Possible Anime/Manga spoilers throughout** PSTD, Death, depression, angst, possessiveness, jealousy, uneven power dynamics (obviously because Gojo is the strongest), eventual lemon/smut, slowburn, right person wrong time, friends to lovers to enemies to lovers again, touch starved, unprotected first time, virgin!reader, virgin!gojo, betrayal, possible pregnancy (undecided but will make it cute, not annoying), fuckboy!gojo, kind of poly!reader (she loves them both at the same time), gore/blood/violence scenes that will be graphic

Word Count: 8.5k

Monday, July 9th 2018

“Do you want to go see Human Earthworm 3?” Mahito annoyingly leans into your shoulder hoping that Suguru won’t see him pestering you. You roll your eyes internally and move your head to the left a little now that Mahito is blocking all the sunlight. He sits in the beach chair next to you after he realizes you’re not going to answer him. “Oh c’mon, Geto has you on such a tight leash it’ll be fun.” He says this in a sing-song voice hoping to get you on-board.

You scoff and try to ignore his childlike teasing and pull your sunglasses down from the top of your head to block your eyes from Mahito in hopes of getting him to leave you alone.

“No one will even see me so it’ll be like you’re seeing the movie alone. No need to be embarrassed.” He adds hoping this would somehow change your mind. Ugh, he was so aggravating. You remember when Suguru introduced you to Mahito, the patch-faced, human-like curse. You initially thought he was cute until he opened his mouth. Nothing has changed since then, he’s just gotten more and more under your skin.

“Enough Mahito,” Suguru interjects and is suddenly standing over the two of you with his arms crossed. His voice made it seem like he was unbothered by the situation entirely but his body language read a little differently. Mahito slumps back into the beach chair with a clear frown plastered across his face. “Y/N, can you come with me please.” He doesn’t look at you when he says this. Instead, he turns on his heel and walks towards the floating door in the middle of the sand. You were in Dagon’s beach domain. It was mostly relaxing and this was where most of you spent your time in hiding these days.

“What is it?” You ask as the two of you approach the door. You avoid his blatant eye contact. Lately, you’ve been having a really hard time looking at the man you love because that's just it; He isn’t the man you love, well, not anymore. One day last year he came back from a “mission” extremely injured with stitches across his head. He said that he was no longer Suguru Geto but instead a man by the name of Kenjaku. At first, you thought that the injury on his head made him lose his memory but soon you realized he had been possessed by a curse that you had no idea how to exorcise. He stopped touching you and acted like he barely knew who you were and became very serious-natured. Suguru was never this cold. He tried to imitate his love for you but you knew better. It was all a facade. After all, he had told you the truth, that man was no longer Suguru Geto. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to mourn him or save him. You chose the latter and never gave up hope that one day you would get him back. You knew he was still in there, somewhere. Until then, you would do whatever he wanted you to do. It was like you were his slave. You would cry yourself to sleep at night almost every night since. Your Suguru was no longer there to hold you close, to tell you how much he loved you, to have you by his side. You were no longer of importance to him.

Only once had you attempted to exorcise him. That was the day you almost died. He was too strong and you got the only evidence you needed that he was still in there, trapped inside his own body. His body betrayed Kenjaku and didn’t allow him to hurt you anymore. Suguru had stopped himself from killing you.

“There is something I need from you.” He shuffles his hands awkwardly. Seeing him come off so confident is weird, although his body language betrays him whenever he speaks to you. In the beginning, it was tough to watch but now, you're just numb to it. God, you wish he’d just get on with it so this conversation could be over. It still hurts and you feel your tears threaten to spill. Now all your relationship was was transactions. You stayed close because you loved him and he took advantage of that. “I need you to kill Satoru Gojo.” Your heart sinks at his request. You had secretly hoped that Kenjaku wouldn’t find out who Satoru was or who he was to you and Suguru but several months ago Kenjaku had devised a plan to trap Satoru. That plan you could live with but this? Satoru’s name still sounded foreign on his pseudo-Suguru’s tongue. Your mind flashes to Satoru’s ocean-blue eyes and his cocky but warm smile. How could he say that about his best friend? Your best friend? He probably had this planned this whole time. You were being naive. It was probably because Satoru posed a serious threat to him. How could you forget that Satoru was the strongest Sorceror? You couldn’t, but instead, you just wished he wasn’t.

“I thought we planned to trap him in the prison realm, that’s what you said!” Your voice betrays you now and you’re not trying to shout but you are. You’re upset and visibly so, why is he saying all of this?

“We’re not certain the prison realm will be enough to hold Satoru Gojo, after all, he is the strongest.” He laughs and you just scoff at his words in disbelief. If Suguru heard himself say this he would be so heartbroken. It had been years since you saw him, the strongest sorcerer, the man who held the innate gift of the six eyes, your old classmate, your first love, Satoru Gojo. Almost ten years to be exact. He would be almost 30 now. So much has changed since then. You wondered if he remembered you and if he thought of you as much as you thought of him.

“I can’t. I won’t-” your voice cracks, “-do that.” The tears from earlier start to spill now. You had hoped that running away with Suguru to follow his dream would mean that you would never have to see Satoru again. You were fine with that but this, you weren’t fine with. Your heart would never allow you to kill Satoru Gojo. You weren’t even sure why Suguru was so confident that you could. Maybe because it wasn’t a request from Suguru…

“Yes, you will. If you have any hope of seeing Suguru Geto again you will.” Your eyes flick up to his forehead where you look at him through wet lashes. You look at the stitches that hold his skull together with haste. He’s still in there and you just wanted him back. “You’re the only one out of all of us that has the best chance of getting close to him. After all, he once loved you. Didn’t he?” Your cheeks burn and your stomach drops at his words. You feel like you’re going to be sick. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know if he once loved you or not. “Even if you don’t kill him, you’re able to get close and weaken him, then we can trap him.”

“Fine.” You wipe the single tear from your cheek and turn to walk away but before you can Kenjaku reaches for your arm and grabs a hold of your wrist tightly making you wince.

“I think you should go with Mahito. It could give you a chance to scope out Satoru’s whereabouts. I hear he has a few students of his own now.” His voice is deep and low making you curious as to why he was whispering. Is this because he doesn’t have faith in the little curses he keeps around him? Are you the only person completely loyal to him? Maybe, you thought. Then your mind wanders to Satoru. You wonder if he’s gotten any taller, his hair any longer, or if he is the same old Satoru. Your lips turn upwards slightly at the thought of his laugh as you leave Suguru and make your way over to Mahito.

“Come on patch-face. We’re going to see your movie.” You throw a towel at him and roll your eyes at the excited face he makes. He reminds you so much of a child and sometimes you don’t know why you can’t stand him.

Later in the day

You arrived at the movie theater and bought one ticket for Human Earthworm 3. Mahito stood next to you eager to get into the theater. There were only a few other people in the theater, a few boys sitting by the front and a lone teenage boy. Good thing you didn’t care about the movie all that much because the boys up front would not shut up. The lone boy sitting at the top left of the theater wore a purple shirt and his dark hair fell over his face. He looked sad but you tried not to think anything of it.

“Should I shut them up?” Mahito leaned over to whisper in your ear. His words were laced with evil and you could hear the smile across his lips. You shiver at his words but try to play it off.

“If you want, I don’t care.” You wave him off with an annoyed sigh. The boy in purple looked up at you and you imagined he thought you were crazy for talking to yourself. Whatever. You had gone through your wallet during the movie and found your old jujutsu high ID card. Yep, just as you thought you were once a grade-one sorcerer. You flip over your ID and run your fingertips over the scratched-up surface. There was a smiley face drawn in Sharpie that was slightly smudged. That’s right, Satoru drew this. You smiled sweetly to yourself at the memory. He was so annoying back then but you adored him and his goofy self. He was somehow always so cocky. He was beautiful though, he was tall and hadn’t completely grown into his height yet. You remember his messy white hair and his angelic blue eyes. You even remember him stealing your ID card and holding it above your head so you couldn’t reach it. He always made it a point to joke with you about being short. He was always so playful with you.

Your mind wanders to something darker as you hold the plastic between your two fingers. Were you really going to have to kill him to bring Suguru back? What if he could help you instead? Did he even still care about you or Suguru enough to do that? This all felt so heavy. Were you even going to be able to kill him if he said no? Kenjaku seemed to think you could. Yes, you were once a very strong sorcerer and if you had to guess you’re probably well past a special grade now but that just means he is too. Even back then Satoru was the strongest, he was a special grade even then. You sigh to yourself. You try to remind yourself that you were the descendant of one of the strongest sorcerers in history. You were part of the Kashimo clan, your great-great-great grandfather was titled the god of lightning. You tried to talk yourself into feeling stronger but it wasn’t helping. The truth is Satoru would kill you in an instant if he wanted to. Maybe because you deserved it and wouldn’t fight back or maybe just because you were weak.

Before you knew it Mahito was bored. He no longer had any interest in the movie and you were snapped out of whatever trance you were just in. He stood up and started walking to the exit but not before completely transmuting all three of the boys who were talking during the entire movie. You roll your eyes and follow him out stuffing your ID card back into your wallet and then into your purse. Such a drama queen.

As you’re walking back to the building where your hideout was you hear someone call out to you. You consider ignoring it but then he yells out, “Hey, you, patch-face with the lady!” Suddenly your eyes widen as you turn around to face the same sad boy from earlier—the one who wore purple and had one side of his face covered by his dark hair.

“Y-you can see him?” You blurt out pointing at Mahito, not even acknowledging that he was going to say something first.

“Yeah, and I also saw what he did to them.” He steps back a little, losing the confidence he just had. He seemed sweet and you knew he wasn’t at all a real threat. Suddenly he seemed sweaty and scared.

“What, were they your friends or something?” Mahito interjects and you allow him to speak to the poor boy. You feel a small drop of water fall on your face and when you look up you notice it's starting to rain. You pull your hood over your head and lean against a wall under an air conditioning unit so you don’t get wet.

“Can I..” he hesitates, “Do that too?” The boy asks while staring down at his feet. There seems to be something troubling him for him to be asking dangerous strangers for help.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Mahito grins creepily and that was your queue to leave. You didn’t care to listen to him go on and on about curses when he just learned about it not too long ago himself. After all, he was a new curse.

“You two go on without me. Suguru will want to hear about this.” You share one last look at Mahito and the boy before drifting back into the shadows of the alleyway to make your way back to the hideout.

The next day

Mahito tells you that the boy's name is Junpei. He can see and manipulate cursed energy and Mahito has taken it upon himself to personally “train” the boy. You’re slightly annoyed but just happy that Mahito won't be bothering you as much anymore. You tell him to be nice to the boy and that if he hurt him in any way, you’ll kill him. You can’t help it, something about him reminded you of a younger Suguru and it warmed your heart.

Suguru on the other hand didn’t care as much as you thought he would. He was more disappointed to see that you had returned with no news on Satoru’s whereabouts. You promised to go back out today and see what you could find out. You met up with Mahito who happened to be spying on Junpei. Apparently, Junpei had crossed paths with The king of curses, Sukuna’s vessel, Yuji Itadori, a young boy with bright pink hair and a red hood attached to his Jujutsu High uniform. You could feel just how powerful his cursed energy was from a mile back. His aura sent chills down your spine. Everything about Sukuna freaks you out. You’ve only ever heard stories about him as you and Suguru spent a couple of years searching for his twenty fingers. You also remember that your great-great-great grandfather made it his dying wish that one day he would get to fight Sukuna. You guessed that never happened since your grandfather was the one 6 feet under.

“He told him about us,” Mahito says while playing with the ends of his hair and swinging his feet out beneath him. He was sitting on a park tree near where Junpei and Itadori were talking but was careful to be out of sight.

“What do you mean?” You weren’t following what he was saying.

“Junpei told Itadori that he saw us yesterday and described what we looked like. Should we go ahead and kill him to preserve Geto’s plan?”

“No, that would just stir the pot. Maybe this could work in our favor. We got word from Jogo that Sukuna’s vessel was one of Satoru-I mean- Gojo’s students, right?” Now Mahito was the one not following. His face is full of confusion. You flick him in the forehead, “That means that Gojo will come to us stupid. Now we won't have to find him. He isn’t going to send his weaker sorcerers to fight us knowing that we’re multiple special grades.”

“Oh, right!” Mahito smiles and turns to face Junpei once more. “I also fought a blonde sorcerer yesterday! Even more the reason to come.” Mahito sings as he continues to swing his feet humming a tune.

Your heart drops. A blonde sorcerer? Could it be?

“Mahito… this blonde sorcerer…” you start but your voice gets stuck in your throat. “Did you kill him?” Your throat suddenly felt like pins and needles.

“The businessman? No, it was a pretty even match actually and we had to draw.”

Nanamin.. Of course, it was him. You anxiously ran your fingers through your hair. Thank god, he’s still alive. You tried to keep tabs on most of your other old classmates, except Satoru. You thought Nanami quit being a sorcerer but maybe your intel was wrong.

“Please don’t hurt him.” You turn toward Mahito practically begging.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that Y/N! Wow, you are a softy arentcha? Well, either way, I do what I want.” Mahito gets close to your face and smiles. You had about enough of him and were this close to exorcising him right then and there when you noticed Itadori and Junpei leaving. Killing Kenjaku’s favorite curse would have to wait. The two of you continued to follow Itadori and Junpei.

Later that day

You had devised a plan. You overheard Kenjaku and Mahito talking, they were going to use Junpei to create a diversion to see how much control Itadori had over Sukuna, or best case scenario, they were planning on getting control over Sukuna’s vessel themselves.

The whole plan made you sick. Poor Junpei. You knew what you had to do. You had to be there in the shadows to protect Junpei and to leave with Satoru, however you needed to. This was your only hope of saving Suguru.

When you weren’t sleeping in Dagon’s domain, you were in a room over at the motel you were all staying at. You used to share this room with Suguru and you just couldn’t be alone in there anymore, it was too much. You began packing a few of your things when you heard someone knock on your door softly.

“Come in.” You call out to them.

The door opens and when you look up you see Mimiko, her long brunette hair laying at her shoulders and her body language makes it seem like she has been tiptoeing around Kenjaku herself. You can’t believe how much she has grown since you and Suguru found her and her twin sister years ago. For a long time, you all felt like a family. You and Suguru even used to make sweet jokes about how Mimiko and Nanako were your daughters. You once asked Suguru if he thought if you had children together ironically you would also have twin daughters. He chuckled but you knew deep down he never wanted to bring more kids into the world. Sometimes you wish your relationship with him could’ve been different. You would’ve really loved just being about to go on dates and worry about paying rent with your normal careers. Maybe you both would’ve worked at Nanami’s office and made Fridays your movie nights and Tuesdays would be when you invited Shoko, Nanami, and Haibara over for Dinner. Satoru would come sometimes when he wasn’t busy with his new girl of the week. Sadly though, that was all just a dream; but maybe in another life, it wasn’t just a dream.

“It’s just me.” You say and turn to continue packing with a straight face.

“Oh, okay,” she immediately relaxes. “Where are you going?”

You completely ignored her question, you didn’t want her to start getting worked up. “Where is Nanako, I want to say goodbye to the both of you.”

“You’re leaving us? No! You can’t, please don’t leave us here with him.” Her voice cracks and it breaks your heart. They both have been through so much.

You rush over to her to quickly stop her from crying. You lower your voice so that it is above a whisper while you gently rub her shoulder, “It’s okay, it’s not for good. I’m doing this for us Mimiko, I am going to get help so that we can get Suguru back.”

“Really?” She questions while sniffling.

“Yes, but I need to hurry before he notices. Can you cover for me?”

“Well, Nanako is with him…”

“Where?” You say with slight irritation in your voice.

“Upstairs.”

You give her a big hug before making your way up the dirty motel staircase. Luckily, you see Nanako’s blonde hair coming around the corner and she is alone. You run up to her and give her a big hug as well.

“I love you. Tell Mimiko I love her too. She’ll explain everything.” You don’t even give her a chance to ask any questions before taking off down the other side of the outside hallway. You try to be stealthy and quiet but you’re not quiet enough. Suddenly an arm reaches out to you, jolting you to a stop. It was him. His grip made you wince once more.

“And where are you going, Y/N?” He asks with a borderline sinister smile. You shudder as you go to look at him trying your hardest to pretend like everything is fine.

“I’m going on your secret mission, remember? I just said goodbye to our daughters.” You hiss up at him. This time you look directly into his eyes so that he feels your anger.

He didn’t seem to like this, he reached out and grabbed your throat to pull you closer to him. Your teeth clench together and cry out in pain. He’s not quite choking you but he’s holding you hard enough to leave bruises behind.

“Good luck then.” He mutters in your ear. When he pulls away he places a small chaste kiss on your lips making your heart flutter a little. The entire interaction was giving you whiplash. You figured this was his way of saying ‘Don’t betray me or I’ll kill you’. He lets go of your throat and you cough trying to catch your breath.

You look at him with hate in your eyes one last time before turning and running down the motel stairs. You had one more stop to make for your grand plan to work. Mahito.

The next day

You wake up the next day in a room unfamiliar to you. The night before you had left your motel and went to a hotel that was closer to Jujutsu High. You showered and put on a little bit of makeup. As you were getting dressed in your family's traditional attire you couldn’t help but feel nervous. Today you were going to see Satoru. What if he didn’t want to see you? Who were you kidding of course he didn’t. You would be lucky if he paid you any mind at all. But what if you had to fight him? Your heart was beating out of your chest as you put on your all-white haori. As you wrapped bandages around your fists and lower arms you breathed out deeply preparing for the worst. You pulled your hair back into two buns and grabbed your quarterstaff before leaving for the school. It had been a long time since you’d had to fight anyone let alone dress in your traditional attire.

You arrive at the school that you heard Mahito mention to Kenjaku the day before. It was the school where Junpei attended. You decided to keep your distance from the fight because you couldn’t give up your position or your plan. When you walk toward the back of the school you see the veil had already been lowered. This was Mahito’s viel which means Kenjaku wasn’t here. He most likely didn’t want to run into Satoru to raise any red flags about your arrival. When you entered the viel you hoped that Mahito had noticed your energy like you planned. You walked through the school and up the stairs. It was dead, where was everyone? There was glass all over the floors from the windows. They must’ve already started fighting.

You turn the corner to where you thought you heard fighting and that's when you see him. Junpei. No, no, no, you were supposed to protect him. You were too late. Mahito had already gotten his hands on him and turned him into a transmuted beast. You clench your eyes shut as you walk past his body. Your heart sinks and your face twists in anger. Maybe the next part of your plan would be real then. Mahito of course will think you’re putting on a show for the sorcerors like you had planned.

When you walk over to the windowsill you see them. Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori and Nanami were fighting Mahito. Quite frankly, Mahito was getting his ass whooped. You wanted to see how this would play out but that's when you realized one of the most important parts of your plan. Satoru isn’t here. Where was he? Why did they only send Nanami?

You take a deep breath. Okay, you had two choices. Bail or improvise. You chose the latter.

With a war cry and your charged cursed energy, you jump from the window and land behind Itadori and Nanami. You tap into your rage and your hair starts emitting cursed lightning that bounces from each of your buns. Your eyes began glowing yellow and you lightly tap your quarterstaff on the ground causing the school courtyard to shake.

“MAHITO!” You scream at the top of your lungs, haste dripping from your tongue. Just as planned, Mahito would change direction and start fighting you.

Both Itadori and Nanami look your way. Itadori is extremely confused about whether or not you’re also an enemy and when he starts to make his way toward you Nanami reaches his arm out to stop him. He looks back at Nanami and he simply shakes his head signaling him to trust him.

Mahito then takes the opportunity to shape himself into a giant spiked beast and attempts to slice you where you stand. You jump over his additional spiked body parts and use one of his arms as leverage to jump across to the other side of the courtyard. He tries to hit you again and you redirect his hand using taijutsu and infuse your quarterstaff with cursed lightning and hit him directly in the chest. The impact makes him fly across the courtyard and he starts shaking from the electrical energy in the blast. Damn, you need to dial it back a bit if you want this to be believable. You turn toward Nanami and Itadori. Your eyes meet Nanami’s and your heart flutters in your chest, you haven’t seen him since his hair was long. He was so tall and cute and now he is a big, strong man. His blue dress shirt is snug across his chest and you’re just completely surprised by how much he's grown. His cheeks were much more defined and he was aging like wine. He still wore his signature frown.

Perfect moment to be distracted. Mahito takes the opportunity you give him and turns his arms into little spikes. He pierces the back of your thigh causing you to scream out in pain. What was he doing? This wasn’t the plan. You cry out as you feel two more spikes go through your gut. When he pulls them out you look down to see your all-white haori covered in blood, your blood. Well so much for dialing it back, you trusted Mahito enough to not kill you but maybe that was his plan all along. This fake fight was a ploy for him to kill you.

“Y/N!” Nanami yells out as he runs over to catch you before you fall.

“N-na-namin” you respond breathlessly as you fall to your knees. There was blood pouring from your mouth. Nanami catches you and you hold your stomach as you shake in his arms. Did Kenjaku know your plan all along? Why would Mahito kill you? You felt yourself slipping out of consciousness and all you could think about was the fact that you wouldn’t get to see Satoru after all. Maybe this was for the best. If you can’t be with Suguru you don’t care whether you lived or died.

As your eyes start to close you can feel Nanami squeeze you tighter as he hugs you against his chest. You hear Itadori yell out that Mahito is getting away and Nanami tells him to let him go, and that it wasn’t worth it. Then you hear Itadori ask if Nanami knew who you were to which he replied, “Yes, I know her well.”

---

Two days later

You wake up to the smell of cigarettes and hear muffled talking in the background. When you sit up frantically in shock you see that you are handcuffed to the bed. You begin to panic, your charged cursed energy threatening to spill out until you realize that you recognize where you are. You’re in the medical office at Jujutsu High. You’ve been here for many injuries, most of which were self-inflicted from your training with Satoru. Damn, his stupid infinity, your attacks would almost always bounce back causing you to get hurt. When you look down you see your thigh wrapped in bandages as well as your lower abdomen.

“That special grade curse got you pretty good.” You scoff at the statement that Mahito was a special grade curse. Screw him. But wait, you know that voice, that sweet voice coated with years of cigarettes and liquor.

“Shoko?” You yell out whipping your head back and forth to search for her.

“Hey squirt, it’s me don’t get all frizzy on me now.” She wheels her chair over to your bed and stands to take your temperature while simultaneously rubbing your head trying to stir up your electrical cursed energy. That’s right, she always called you that because you were a little younger and a little shorter than her. She also loved annoying you by making your hair frizzy. You didn’t even care that she was making your hair a mess, a huge smile was plastered across your face. She looks much older, you bet it's from her bad smoking and drinking habits. She’s still beautiful though, just has dark circles under her eyes and her hair is much much longer. She’s still the same Shoko. God how you missed her.

“Why am I chained to the bed?” You ask but you already know the answer to that question.

“You know why squirt…” Her face drops and she wheels away from your bed now.

“Well, what happens now? Am I to be executed now that I am in the school's possession again?” You ask with a small laugh but deep down you have a genuine concern that that might be the case, this was one of the reasons you never came back after deserting the school with Suguru.

“You know there are very strong people here that would never allow that to happen.”

Was she talking about Satoru? She had to be. Unless someone else from your class sprouted up and became strong enough to overpower those in charge. You decide to assume she’s talking about Satoru.

“I’m not so sure about that. Last time I saw him he seemed perfectly okay with the idea of me dying.” Your voice gets quiet as you say this, it’s as if the wound is still fresh. You don’t allow her to say anything to that, “Anyways, where is he?”

“He got back yesterday, as soon as he heard you were here.” Suddenly there are butterflies in your stomach. You thought you were going to die at Mahito’s hand but it seems he missed all of your vitals. So you get to see Satoru after all. Why were you suddenly so nervous?

Without warning, the big metal door to the facility opens and you see Shoko stand to greet whoever it is. Part of you hoped it was Satoru and the other part of you was scared shitless.

“Y/N.” A stern male’s voice states your name causing you to jump a little.

Your eyes start watering, “Nanamin?” You turn your head to see him walking over to you.

“You know I hate when you call me that.” Nanami gets closer to your bed and unlocks your handcuffs freeing you. You giggle at his defensiveness, it’s good to see he hasn’t gotten any more expressive with his emotions. You jump into his arms and hug him. He is reluctant to return your hug but he ultimately does. You’ve missed him so so much.

“Why are you freeing me?” You step back and rub your wrists looking down to see they’re starting to bruise. When you reach up you feel a bandage around your neck too. You look at Shoko confused until you remember the moment you had with Kenjaku before you left. You rub the bandage gently reminding you of why you’re here. He had hurt you. You want Suguru back.

“We have some questions.” He reaches around your back and puts new handcuffs around your wrists. He is gentle with his movements though so that he doesn’t hurt you. You sigh, just when you thought you were free. You understood why though, it was going to take a lot of work for anyone here to trust you again. Nanami walks you down the hall to Principal Gakugangi’s office. Memories of this hallway flood your brain. You remember the time you, Satoru, and Suguru raced down this hallway. Of course, Satoru won because he had the longest legs.

You’re brought to a room next to the principal’s office that has a chair seated at the front of the room directly under multiple TV screens. Across from that, there were a bunch of seats that were set up auditorium style. All of your old teachers and classmates were already seated, all except Satoru. You started to explain to ex-principal Yaga and principal Gakuganji why you were there. It was as if you were reading from a script. It was the story you fabricated to get here, although most of it was true. You told Shoko, Nanami, Utahime, Mei-Mei, Gakuganji and Yaga. You wished Satoru was here to listen but you figured there was a reason he wasn’t. You went on about how after you left Jujutsu High years and years ago with Suguru he was possessed by Kenjaku and forced you to work for him. You lied and told them how you heard that Mahito could transmute souls and that you went looking for him to help touch Suguru’s soul to kill Kenjaku inside of him. Everything in your story came together so perfectly, you mentioned how you were fighting Mahito at the school because he had betrayed you and told Suguru your plan and was ultimately trying to kill you. This explained why Itadori told them Junpei saw you at the movies with Mahito and why you were trying to kill him afterward.

Finally, Utahime spoke up and asked, “Why did you never come back to us, Y/N?” She sounded so dejected as she said this. You were starting to regret coming back at all, it was already stirring up way too many old emotions that you thought you tucked away years ago.

This question hit harder than you expected it to. Your chest started to feel tight. You held your wrists together to wipe your face of the tears that were now spilling out on their own. Bending forward you rest your head in your arms before continuing, “I wanted to come back, trust me I did!” You pause and look at all your old friends sitting on the edge of their seats listening to you with such care in their eyes. “I was scared because of the death penalty and also I wanted to protect you guys the best I could from Suguru, h-he was not himself.” You sniffle and stare down at your bound hands, you internally debate saying this last part but they deserve to know, “a-and, I loved him.” You hesitantly correct yourself, “I do love him.” You’re suddenly brought back to the first few years together with Suguru after you both had abandoned Jujutsu High. You were severely depressed and would cry almost every night to Suguru about how you missed everyone at Jujutsu High and how you wanted to go back. He would comfort you but couldn’t understand your reasoning. He didn’t ask you to follow him and he never really understood why you did. He did, however, reassure you of his love whenever you need it. You don’t think he ever felt sad about his past which allowed him to pour himself into both you and his purpose.

You watch as everyone’s eyes quickly dart toward the door behind you. When you look over your shoulder with puffy eyes you see what they were looking at. You finally see him. The strongest sorcerer, the man who held the innate gift of the six eyes, your old classmate, your first love, Satoru Gojo. He is, where do you even begin? If your heart wasn’t hurting so bad you could probably talk about how he was taller than the door frame for hours. His hair was slightly longer than you remember and still as white as snow. It sat perfectly on top of his head with a black blindfold that covered his beautiful blue eyes that had been burned into your memory for years. He upgraded from the little black sunglasses you used to steal from him. His lips looked as soft as you remember and when you look down you see his arms crossed over his chest. His arms look so much bigger now that he has grown into his lanky self. He looks strong and his hands are huge. You can’t even focus, the room was spinning and your heart was beating out of your chest. How embarrassing. No one said a thing. You hated that you couldn’t see his eyes. You knew him though, more than probably anyone else in the room. Your presence made him uneasy and nervous just as much as yours did his. He continued to stare at you through his blindfold. Everyone fell into an unbearable silence. It felt like you were swallowing nails every time you took a breath. You wanted him to scream or yell at you, you wanted him to do something other than what he was doing. Your eyes were begging him to take you away from all the eyes in the room so that you could talk one-on-one, but he wouldn’t do that. Not anymore. You wanted to know if he still cared at all if he even missed you.

“I thought I told you not to get distracted in a fight,” Satoru speaks in a calm voice but his posture stiffens against the door as he speaks.

You open your mouth to reply but instead, Principal Yaga interjects and stands before you causing you to turn your attention to him. You just wanted to be anywhere but here. You were now very unsure about whether or not Satoru would allow the higher-ups to kill you or not. Suddenly you feel very small and weak.

“The Kyoto sister school exchange event is about to begin,” he gruffs in annoyance and points to the TVs above your head. “We’re done for today. Gojo, she is your responsibility, put her in the talisman room until we figure out what to do with her.”

Your head shifts from Principal Yaga to Satoru, suddenly very nervous. The talisman room is where sorcerers bring special-grade human-like curses, “evil” sorcerers, or anyone who poses a threat to the sorcerer world. It was like a holding cell that drained all your cursed energy. It was where the school put those who were on death row. You freeze in your chair when you see Nanami coming over to drag you out of the room.

“N-Nanamin, please, no,” you beg, catching a sob in your throat.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” His eyes seem sincere but you knew he had no choice. He walks you over to Satoru who takes the chains on your wrist without saying a word. He is neither gentle nor harsh in the way he leads you down the hall. A tense silence falls around you. This is the closest you’ve been to him in years and you just want things to go back to the way they were. You’re too scared to look at him so you stare at the ground rethinking this whole thing. Should you try to fight Satoru here and now? No, he’s too strong and the others would be behind him. Should you make a break for it and run back to Suguru? No. You stop abruptly causing Satoru’s infinity to hit you causing you to lose your balance. He had his infinity up around you? This was ultimately a test to see if he still trusts you, even a little, but the answer was no. Your heart breaks, things are never going to be the same. Now that you are out of the sight of the others you turn to Satoru as much as your position allows, your last hope was talking to him.

“Satoru,” You hum his name, it coming out much sweeter than you meant for it to. “Please, l-listen to me.” You look up at him and try to ignore how he towers over you. He tilts his head down at you. You’re still unable to see his eyes so you just assume he’s looking at you. “I-I know you don’t trust me anymore…” Your voice wavers as you say this. “But, you’re in danger. Please list-”

“’m the strongest.” His voice is gruff and cold as he cuts you off. It’s his way of saying ‘Shut up, no I’m not’.

You start pulling your arms away from him to get him to understand how serious this is. He eventually gives way and you’re now facing him with your hands behind your back. He cockily puts his hands in his pocket allowing you to continue talking. He is straight-faced and almost looks bored. Oh, how you wished you could see his signature Satoru Gojo smile.

“Suguru has been possessed by a very strong cursed spirit who has lived many lifetimes. He is planning on sealing you away!” Your voice strains as you try to plead with him.

“Suguru is dead,” His voice is still just as monotone as before. “I should know, I’m the one who killed him.”

First, your heart drops. Then your eyes widen and your muscles tense up. “What?” You grumble through gritted teeth as you slowly blink up at him as your mind tries to wrap around what he just said. The electric cursed energy you possess begins to flow through you in anger. You can feel the static electricity start to form between the two buns in your hair, like a radio frequency. Your hair begins to float from the friction. Suddenly your arms are free from their shackles. You must’ve tensed up so much that your strength snapped them off.

“That was you?” You say with furrowed brows as your feet naturally start to take a fighting pose. You remember when Kenjaku came back in Suguru’s place that day and explained that he found his body ‘without a host’, aka dead. You didn’t believe it, you never did. Who could’ve possibly killed him? Whoever it was had to be strong, you never guessed it would be Satoru. He was his best friend. And Suguru was still in there. He had to be.

“You know I had to do it. Don’t start this Y/N, you know I’d win.” His hands were still in his pockets and now he was just getting on your nerves. You hated that the first time you heard him say your name again was under these circumstances.

“You’re just going to have to kill me too,” Your tears stop and you reach your arm out to summon your quarterstaff using your cursed wavelength, after a moment it shatters a window and is in your grip, “Gojo.” You twirl your staff around your head and tap it on the ground making the rest of the windows in the hall shatter. You revert to his last name and for a split second, you think you see him release a pained breath but you no longer care. There was no going back for either of you. You were now enemies.

You run at him at full speed while building up your cursed energy in your staff. You had no idea how you were going to get him to turn off his infinity but you were okay with it ending here. There was something so beautiful about dying at Satoru’s hand. As soon as you’re close enough, you jump above him and hit right where his head would be. You can see your attack absorbed by his infinity. However, the floor and the wall behind him weren’t as lucky. They both take a huge hit and crumble away. Why wasn’t he fighting back? Why wasn’t he killing you?

Attack after attack after attack, he just allows you to come at him. You’re extremely angry and you feel like you’re going to explode. You throw your quarterstaff at the wall frustrated and instead walk up to him preparing to try hand-to-hand combat. Your lips are trembling now, you’re a sobbing mess. He finally pulls his hands out of his pockets as you incessantly pound on his infinity until you feel it slowly dwindle. Then your arms make contact with his chest. Tears run down your cheeks as your arms feel his heartbeat where they are resting against him It even annoyed you that his heartbeat came out slower and calmer than yours. Who were you kidding, you didn’t pose a threat to him at all. You may be a special-grade sorcerer but your weakness was him, and maybe you were his too. You fall into him completely exhausted from over-exerting yourself. He allows your forehead to rest on his heart completely swallowed by sadness. You finally gave in and cried your heart out into his chest. He then slowly reaches up to grab your arms, his touch is hesitant but still gentle. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to touch you but does so anyway. He ever so slightly rubs his thumb across your wrist making you raise your head to look at him. Your eyes were wet, your lips were red, and your hair messily fell around your face. You still couldn’t see his eyes, those beautiful eyes, and that stupid blindfold.

“He’s not dead. He can’t be.” You plead again, not even sure what you’re expecting from him anymore. “I-I love him, Satoru.” You can’t believe you’re sitting here telling him this, crying into his chest like you once did what felt like lifetimes ago now, “I know you once loved him too, he was your best friend. Please, plea-”

He brings his hand up to your cheek and caresses it softly before bringing his two forefingers up to your forehead and gently draining you of all your energy, ultimately putting you to sleep. Your eyes roll back in your head and you fall limp into his arms. Satoru leans down to pick you up bridal style before walking over to your quarterstaff and picking it up in one swift motion. You were so light in his arms. Your head lulls on his chest as he carries you to the talisman room. Your hair was completely out of place and your lips were slightly parted as if this was the most comfortable sleep you had gotten in a while. He can't help but stare at you through his blindfold as his chest tightens with emotion. You were the same girl he fell in love with years ago, you just matured and there was a certain confidence in the way you carried yourself that you didn’t do before. Your hair was much longer and your cheeks had thinned out a bit with age. It was so strange seeing you again, now his heart was starting to beat fast. He honestly never thought he’d see you again. When he ran into Suguru last year he was sure you would be with him, fighting alongside him… but you weren't. He had hoped that meant you ran away from it all and maybe even married a nice ordinary man, someone you wanted to marry, settled down, had a family like you always talked about, and abandoned sorcery altogether. But here you were not only before his very eyes but in his arms again, still tied up with his best friend and still tied up with jujutsu sorcery. He wondered what you had been through all this time away from him. He had tried to move on, he did. He’s been on plenty of dates with other women and he even tried pursuing both Utahime and Shoko, they were the closest thing he could get and it wasn’t close at all. Shoko knew he was trying to fill your void and she respected herself too much to give in to his motives. Utahime on the other hand liked him back and for a while, they tried dating but in the end, they just weren’t compatible. None of them were you, you hurt way too much. How was it fair that in the end, you chose Suguru? Did you not love him too? Did you just love him more? Why didn’t you stay?

Satoru was suddenly very thankful that you were asleep and that he had a blindfold on, his tears escaped anyway.

He walked past his room with you in his arms. Part of him wanted to lay you on his bed in hopes that you would wake up and this would all just be a bad dream. You would be back in 2006 laying in his bed again but instead of thinking with his heart, he went with his head. He brought you to the talisman room, sat you in the chair in the center of the room, and left to return to watch the Kyoto Sister School Exchange event.

#bryannawrites #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #satoru x reader x suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto

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naughtyneganjdm · 10 months

Text

On the Run - Chapter 9

Summary: Negan, Joel and Y/N have to deal with the aftermath and the fallout of everything that happened at the motel making them realize they don't have many options.

Characters: Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Negan (The Walking Dead), the reader (OC, third person), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47007172/chapters/121544824

Warnings: Swearing, severe angst, mentions of blood, etc.

Notes: There is a lot of angst and mentions of blood in this chapter. If that makes you uncomfortable, just a pre-warning.

Deafening silence filled the car after everything that happened. It had been quite some time since they left the motel but Joel wanted to get as far away as he could before they stopped. Half Moon was a beast and they barely got away from him. If there were more like him, they would have never survived. Stealing a glance in the rearview mirror, Joel saw that Y/N was still lying flat on the backseat. There was no questioning that she was still crying. Nothing was going to pull her out of this after she had just lost her best friend. Hell, they barely made it out of that motel room alive themselves, but he knew Poppy was stuck in her mind.

He wished there was something that he could say that would make her feel better, but Joel knew there wasn’t. How could you make someone feel better after their best friend was just murdered? There was no making up for that.

Broken uneven breaths drew Joel’s attention to Negan who wasn’t moving much. Of all of them, Negan had taken the biggest beating, but he was also the one that fought back the hardest. If Negan hadn’t broken Half Moon down as much as he did, Joel knew that he would have never been able to get the upper hand. Negan’s face was covered in blood. It was normal for someone to bleed a lot from a wound on the head, but Negan looked bad. Honestly? Joel was pretty certain he didn’t look too good either. He could feel that he was bleeding a significant amount. Stealing a look at himself he took notice of the blood that was covering the right side of his face. That was definitely the side that took the most damage whereas Negan had blood pretty much everywhere.

“Hey,” Joel reached out to touch Negan making sure he was still conscious. It made Negan move slightly, his palm opening allowing a flow of blood to stream down over his jeans making Joel gulp loudly. The way Negan’s hand was staining his jeans, Joel knew it had to be from Negan using the broken piece of glass to stab Half Moon.

They had to stop. If not for Negan’s hand that undoubtedly needed stitches, they also needed to over the fact that Joel was incredibly dizzy. It could have been from the adrenaline rush of everything, but he also knew that he had hit the back of his head several times in his fight with Half Moon along with having a glass serving platter broken over the side of his face. They needed to take care of themselves before getting stuck in a position they couldn’t get out of.

Noticing that up ahead there was a scenic overlook, Joel pulled off the road and up the winding road of the mountain finding himself thankful when he saw the empty parking lot at the top. It was the middle of the week and the middle of the day which meant people wouldn’t be out. Right now, if things were different, he would have likely been teaching a class, yet here he was.

Parking the SUV, Joel gazed back over his shoulder noting that there was a building with bathrooms, vending machines and what looked like an old payphone. The location was older and Joel was glad that it was because that meant there were likely no cameras.

“We need to take a look at everyone. Make sure we’re okay,” Joel announced, pulling his seatbelt off hearing the shuddering breath that fell from Y/N’s throat from the back seat. “All of us need a change of clothes and we need to clean up. We look like a horror movie.”

“We’re in a horror movie,” Y/N responded with a hurt exhale making Joel frown. It sure as hell felt like that right now. Or at least a very bad dream.

“But we don’t need the police stopping us thinking we just slaughtered someone,” Joel reminded her knowing that the last thing they needed right now was to get caught up with the police. If someone had seen them driving down the road with their faces covered in blood, he was sure they would call on them. “It would only put us more in danger with things.”

“I can’t believe that we just left Poppy there,” Y/N spoke up, completely ignoring what Joel said in order to talk about what had been on her mind from the moment they left the motel. “We should have taken her with us.”

“There was nothing we could have done,” Joel refuted turning in the seat to look back at Y/N who was flushed from crying. Her eyes were swollen and Joel felt guilty that all of this happened. “You have to understand that if we would have stayed, we’d probably be the same way. I know that she was your best friend and I’ll never begin to imagine what you’re feeling, but there was nothing we could do.”

“I just don’t feel like we did enough,” she stammered making Joel feel guilty about the whole thing. “Leaving her there with that man…the man that killed her…”

“I’ll call Simon. He’ll make sure to get your father to take care of it,” Negan grumbled, his arm wrapping loosely around his ribs with a groan. Pushing forward, Negan rest his head against the dashboard for a moment leaving a line of blood over it when he tried to pull himself out of the car. “Or I can call Rick, but I don’t know what he can do all the way out here.”

“We’ll call Simon,” Joel decided looking back to see that Y/N’s hands were covering her face while she was crying. More than anything Joel wanted to take her in his arms and let her break down, but he knew that Negan was bleeding too much. “I’m going to go help Negan up there and then we’ll be right back. Okay?”

There was no response. Broken would be an understatement with the way that Y/N was crying. Frowning, Joel knew that they had to be quick. Y/N needed them with her right now and being separated was not a good option. Getting out of the car, Joel realized that the adrenaline had died down because he was now starting to feel the pain from what happened. Incredible amounts of discomfort filled his back, neck and it strained down his right leg. Forcing himself forward, Joel limped around the car to get to Negan.

Pulling the door open, Joel reached out for Negan, but Negan waved his hand about, “I’m okay. You were probably hurt more than me.”

“If you saw your face you wouldn’t agree with that,” Joel retorted, leaning in to wrap his arms around Negan to get him standing. Adjusting Negan’s bodyweight, he managed to get a hold of him and they started heading for the building. “We should get you cleaned up and stitched first. Then we will call Simon.”

“No, Simon first,” Negan insisted, his head bobbing about making Joel wonder what he should be worried about the most with Negan. A concussion, blood loss or the way that Half Moon threw him through the table and dropped him with extreme amounts of power onto the edge of the dresser. “We have to take care of Poppy.”

Getting into the building, Joel huffed when Negan’s bloody hand grabbed a hold of the door to try to brace himself. Well, they were going to have to clean that up. Getting to the payphone, Joel could tell that Negan was shaking his head doing his best to get it together.

“Can you hold yourself up?” Joel confirmed waiting for Negan to brace his weight against the wall with his left arm. Making sure Negan was good enough, Joel rest himself back against the wall while Negan fumbled through dialing the numbers after putting some change in. There was an ache in his head and at the back of his neck. With the dizziness and the nausea he was feeling, Joel was pretty sure he had gotten a concussion himself too.

Taking a quick look back, Joel watched Y/N getting out of the SUV which made his heart skip a beat. They were high up and he worried about her next move. Going to head for the door, he waited to see that she was taking a seat on top of one of the picnic tables there to stare out at the overlook. Relieved, he could hear Negan talking behind him and at first, Joel had drowned him out, but he figured he needed to listen.

“I don’t know how they found us,” Negan slurred, his forehead pressed up against the wall and Joel knew that with all the blood they were covered in that if someone showed up here, they would immediately drive away. They were leaving blood stains everywhere and it didn’t look good. “It just doesn’t make sense. We haven’t told anyone where we were.”

Tension flooded Negan’s already raspy voice while he bickered with Simon on the other end, “No Simon, it doesn’t make sense. We had to leave Poppy’s body because who the hell knows if someone else was coming. We were in the middle of nowhere in a small town in New Mexico. We drove across the fucking country Simon. How did they find us?”

It was a good question and Joel was trying to figure that out himself. Grunting, Negan smacked the wall after he clearly didn’t get the answer that he wanted from Simon, “I don’t care Simon. That doesn’t matter right now. What does is that I need you to get Philip to fucking figure out what happened. Poppy’s body needs to be picked up. It looked like a war went off in that motel room when we left. The three of us barely made it out alive. I don’t know where we’re going next, I just…someone has to help Poppy. Y/N is crushed. Please talk to Philip.”

Listening in carefully, Joel heard Negan give Simon the town they were in and Negan didn’t look happy while Simon spoke on the other end of the phone about something. Joel was curious and he could see that Negan’s face twisted with frustration, “I don’t care what Philip is fucking doing. You’re going to find someone to go to that motel and figure out what the fuck is happening. Poppy deserves a proper funeral and burying Simon. Y/N is fucking broken. She just lost her best friend.”

“Hey,” Joel noticed that Negan almost dropped and he hooked his arms around Negan doing his best to keep him up.

“That has to be over a twelve-hour drive Simon,” Negan blurt out and Joel assumed that Negan was bickering about the safehouse they had talked about previously. Negan wasn’t wrong, it was about a seventeen-hour drive. Joel knew that because he was planning on leaving from there to go pick up his family which was another day’s worth of driving. The bad thing about where they were is that they had driven days across the country in attempts to keep Y/N safe. “Yeah, I got it. Thank you. I’ll let you know.”

Negan slammed the phone down after the call. Bracing him against the wall, Joel stared out at Negan palming in over the side of Negan’s face. It looked like Negan was losing consciousness, but he was fighting it with everything that he had. From what Joel could see through the blood Negan had a cut over the bridge of his nose, under his eye and above his eyebrow. Negan’s face was swollen in certain spots and Joel could only imagine the bruising that would come.

“I’m okay,” Negan assured Joel once he seemed to pull himself back to. That didn’t make Joel let him go though because he was afraid Negan would fall if he did. “Simon said they are going to send out a detective to work on the case. Repeated multiple times that we should go to that safehouse he told me about.”

“Good,” Joel wasn’t sure what to say. Curiosity had gotten the best of him with what it was Simon was saying to piss off Negan so much, but he didn’t want to pry too much. Curling his arm around Negan’s waist, Joel led Negan over toward the bathroom to get him cleaned up. Stepping before the sink, Joel tapped the edge of it trying to get Negan to brace his weight. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

“We should be out with her, not leaving her alone,” Negan looked back over his shoulder trying to gaze at Y/N, but Joel forced him to look back at the mirror before him.

Once Negan got a look at himself, he knew what Joel was saying was true. His entire face was covered in blood showing how much Negan had truly gotten his ass kicked in the war they had back at the motel. First, Negan shakily washed his hands off allowing the blood to circle the drain before throwing water in his face to try to clean himself of the blood. Once a majority of the blood was cleaned from Negan’s face, it made Joel wonder if Negan had broken his nose after Half Moon hit him in the face with the ice bucket. Inspecting Negan’s face, Joel gave him a small nod and helped Negan rest back against the wall.

When he got a good look at himself in the mirror, Joel huffed knowing he looked like hell too. Splashing some water in his face, he did his best to get the majority of the blood from his flesh hearing the labored breathing that was coming from Negan. Lifting his head, he could tell that Negan was in agony holding onto his ribs.

Finishing up, Joel gasped when Negan slid down onto the floor in a thud. Leaving the water on, Joel scrambled to help Negan up hearing him breathing unevenly. Managing to get Negan back up, Joel kept his arm hooked around Negan’s body to keep him up. Noticing the way that Negan was clinging to his side, Joel reached for Negan’s tank top and felt Negan pushing his hand away. Hushing Negan, Joel’s eyes connected with Negan’s seeing that Negan was uncomfortable, “You’re fine. Just please, let me take a look.”

Nodding, Negan shakily moved his hand away from his body allowing Joel to pull the tank top up his abdomen to reveal the severely reddened, purple flesh taking Joel’s breath away. It was over Negan’s ribs, side and his back, “Fucking hell Negan.”

This had to be from Half Moon throwing Negan onto the edge of the dresser. It looked like Half Moon had tried to break Negan in two.

“He was strong,” Negan alerted Joel, cussing out loudly when Joel lowered Negan’s tank top back down his body.

“The one positive is that you weren’t shot or stabbed,” Joel tried to make light of the situation making Negan grumble under his breath. Negan didn’t look enthused with his comment and Joel shrugged his shoulders.

“So positive,” Negan mocked allowing Joel to help him up from the wall toward the entrance of the building, but Negan pulled from him to brace himself against the wall.

“I need to make sure to clean up the blood and I need to call Bill to figure out if he can find out why all of this happened,” Joel explained heading back into the bathroom to make sure that their blood wasn’t left all over the place.

They were leaving too much of a trail of things and Joel didn’t want someone to call the police if they saw the way certain areas were covered with blood. Once he got the bathroom clean, he went back toward the entrance and let out a surprised breath when he saw that Negan wasn’t there. Staring out, he saw that Negan had managed to get himself outside with Y/N. His arms were wrapped tightly around her while she was visibly crying in Negan’s arms. Letting out an extended exhale, Joel watched as Negan weakly pressed a lingering kiss over her temple. Pulling himself out of the moment, Joel knew that he had to get back to cleaning things up so they weren’t in one place too long. Washing up things good enough, Joel made sure that no one would question things before calling Bill.

At first Bill gave Joel shit, but when Joel explained the situation Bill lightened up and just listened. It took Bill knowing that someone had died for him to actually agree to working with trying to help them figure things out. When he was done giving Bill information, he hung up and limped back outside seeing that Negan was still holding onto Y/N comforting her. At least in Negan’s grasp she seemed to calm down as much as she could but she was still tremoring and crying.

“I need to stitch up your hand Negan,” Joel pointed toward Negan’s hand that he had pressed against his leg trying to stop it from bleeding all over Y/N. “You’re not going to be okay if we keep letting that bleed.”

“I’ll be right over there, okay?” Negan pulled back enough to stroke his fingers from his good hand over the side of Y/N’s face. With her face tear stained, she nodded her head. Giving her a weak smile, Negan had a hell of a time getting up from the picnic table she was seated at to move over toward Joel. Grasping onto Negan, Joel led Negan toward one of the picnic tables in the area that Y/N was sitting in. Once Negan was sitting, Joel headed back toward the car to search for one of the medical kits that they had. Once he found it, he hurried back and reached for Negan’s hand. Shakily Negan raised his hand and blood was pouring from the wound. “Doesn’t look good, does it?”

“Well, it isn’t the worst thing I’ve seen with you on this trip,” Joel once again was trying to make light of the situation knowing that it didn’t look good, but he knew Negan did what he had to in trying to protect Y/N. “One thing about you is that you sure can take a beating, huh?”

“You’re doing better than me,” Negan pointed out, wincing when Joel stroked his fingers over the center of Negan’s hand to assess how he should go ahead with stitching the wound to get the bleeding to stop.

“To be fair, I didn’t get my ass kicked as much as you did,” Joel recalled knowing that they both got their asses kicked. Joel could only imagine that his back mirrored what Negan’s side did. Half Moon broke a wall with Joel’s back and cracked a door with it, but man he was trying to hold it together for both Y/N and Negan. Even though he was sore, Joel knew that Negan fought the hardest back at the motel and there was no questioning that.

Looking back over his shoulder, Negan huffed when he saw that Y/N had her head buried in her hands. “We need to get her over here with us.”

“Y/N, come here. We need to take a look at you,” Joel called out, reaching for the materials that he was going to need to help Negan. “Y/N?”

“Just help Negan. I’ll be fine,” she whimpered from where she was seated making Joel frown. At this point Negan was the person that needed the most medical attention and she was right there, but he hated to see her so broken.

“We’re going to be our own versions of Frankenstein after this whole thing is over, huh?” Joel joked starting to work on Negan’s hand making Negan wince out loud. “All the holes and stitches, we can make you our honorary monster leader.”

“Ha-ha. I’m just going to need a really big ice bath,” Negan grumbled watching Joel working on his hand. It took a while, but when Joel was done, he was quick to wrap it up. Even though Joel was strong through stitching everything up, Negan could see that Joel’s hand was shaking and bleeding from punching Half Moon like he had done. “I think you broke your hand.”

“Probably just a hairline fracture,” Joel shook off the worry that Negan had for him, waving his hand to try to get the feeling back into his fingers. “If I hadn’t hurt myself your stitches would have been better, but this is the best I’ve got.”

“Good enough for me,” Negan watched Joel pull out one of the ice packs from the medical kit to activate it. Once it was ready, he handed it over to Negan who looked up at him with a confused expression. “Where should I put it? I hurt everywhere.”

“I would vary between your face and your ribs until we can get more ice bags,” Joel suggested watching Negan lay out across the top of the picnic table. Placing the ice over his ribs, Negan threw his arm up over his eyes letting out a wince when he did it. Making sure that Negan was okay, Joel carefully moved over toward the picnic table that Y/N was at with the medical kit in hand. “Can I look at you?”

With a shrug of her shoulders, she allowed Joel to sit beside her on top of the picnic table. A tremoring breath fell from her lips when he grabbed a soft hold of her chin to get her to turn her head to the side so he could look at where Beta cut her.

“I think we can use some butterfly bandages for this,” Joel informed her cleaning the wound for her first and making her wince. Joel watched her closely making sure he wasn’t hurting her too bad while he did things. Once he was done, he brushed his fingers through her hair and stared out at her with his big brown eyes. “I asked Bill to look into things for us. I’m so sorry Y/N. I don’t know how this happened.”

“It’s my fault,” she whispered with an empty expression, her bottom lip quivering. Lowering her head she let out a shuddering sound leading Joel to slide in closer to her so he could wrap his arms around her to comfort her. Resting her head against the center of his chest, Joel nestled his jaw in over the top of her head while his fingers caressed over the back of her neck. “If we wouldn’t have pulled her into the damn car at the party…”

“This isn’t your fault,” Joel denied her claim knowing that this was going to eat away at her. “You didn’t do this to Poppy.”

“Joel, she was my best friend and the only reason she was here with us was because of me. I was so mad at her yesterday because I thought she was having sex with Negan,” she pulled back to look up at Joel with misery behind her eyes. “The last emotions I had toward her was anger, jealousy and rage. Where if she would have just slept with Negan, she would have been safe and this would have never happened. I’m pretty certain that while Negan and I…when we were together, we heard her getting killed. I just thought she was having wild crazy sex with the man she brought back, but I think I heard my best friend getting murdered and I had sex with Negan like nothing was going on.”

“You didn’t know what was happening Y/N,” Joel attempted to calm her while she sobbed. Stroking his thumb over her cheekbone, he swept away at the tears over her face and felt his heart breaking for her. “I know you’ll feel this ache for a long time, but you can’t blame yourself.”

“Poppy was one of the only people that loved me, Joel. Genuinely, whole heartedly loved me as I was. She didn’t care who my fucking father was. She cared about me and she loved me,” she whimpered feeling Joel pressing his forehead to hers. There was nothing he could do to make her feel better, the best thing he could attempt was just to be there for her. “I lost the one person who has been there for me my whole life. She was my family, Joel. When I had no one, I had Poppy.”

“I know sweetheart,” Joel whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss against her temple feeling how badly she was shaking in his arms. “I wish I could say something or do something that would take all this pain away from you.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you for saving my life, but I’m not even sure I deserved to be saved,” she reached up to touch over the side of Joel’s face where he had a wound over his eyebrow and along the side of his face. “You’ve been so busy taking care of yourself that you didn’t take care of your injuries. Here, let me help you…”

“You are more important,” Joel stopped her from reaching for the butterfly bandages that he had used on her. Stroking his thumb over the inside of her wrist, Joel cleared his throat and thought about what he had done. “You need me more than my face needs medical attention.”

“You can’t keep bleeding,” she silenced him, working on taking care of him like he had done for her. Even though he didn’t want her worrying about him, he could tell that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so he allowed her to help him. “Why did you do what you did?” she inquired making Joel’s lips part, his eyes narrowed like he wasn’t sure what she was asking. “You have a family, Joel. Your daughter is the most important thing in your life. You could have escaped. You saw what that man did to Poppy. He would have killed you too given the chance.”

“It was instinctive,” Joel explained feeling a lump growing in his throat when he thought about the moment. “I didn’t even think about it. I just did it. There wasn’t a choice that had to be made. I did what I knew I had to do. Which was keep you safe.”

With a sadden expression, she lowered her head and he swept his thumb in under her jaw to get her to unhurriedly lift her head to meet his stare again. There was a silence between them when he swiped his thumb in over her bottom lip that was tremoring.

Tipping down, Joel faintly skimmed his lips in over hers making a shuddering breath escape her throat. Instead of kissing her, his lips just lingered there. Nuzzling his nose with hers, he felt like they were connected in a way that he couldn’t quite explain. Rubbing his cheek in against hers had her letting out a shuddering breath. Stroking his fingers down over the back of her neck and over her shoulders, he closed his eyes and held her close.

“Negan?” she breathed out pulling back to see that he was breathing heavily with his arm still over his eyes. It looked like he had passed out with his shirt riding up his abdomen showing the gun that he had shoved down the front of his pants resting against his abdomen.

“He’s okay,” Joel hushed her, drawing her to look back at him. “He got his ass kicked, but he’s okay.”

“What about your back?” she thought back to what their attacker had done to Joel in that motel room. Urging him to turn away from her she pushed up the back of his shirt letting out a worried breath when she saw the red and purple flesh. “Joel, fuck…”

“However it looks, I promise you Negan is worse,” Joel winced when he slowly pulled away from her and adjusted the material of his shirt. When she gazed over at Negan again, Joel reached out to turn her head slightly so he could look at the discolored flesh around her neck where Half Moon had tried choking her. “How’s your breathing?”

“I’m still breathing,” she scoffed not caring about how she was feeling considering what happened to Poppy. “It just doesn’t feel right knowing that Poppy is dead while I’m still here. I had you and Negan fighting to keep me safe and Poppy had no one. Why did I deserve to live and she didn’t?”

“Baby girl, no one deserved to die,” Joel asserted with his eyebrows furrowing. Reaching out, he brushed her hair out of her face and frowned. “This is just a situation that should have never happened in the first place. Whoever is doing this…they are going to pay for what they’ve done.”

Instead of saying something, her bottom lip quivered and she lowered her head. Getting up from the table, she stood to her feet and nodded toward the building, “I need to clean up and then we should leave. Staying in one place too long is never safe.”

“We’ll be here if you need us,” Joel promised watching her while she walked toward the building to make sure that she got there safely. After she did, Joel moved over toward Negan to carefully push at Negan making him let out a pained sound when he woke. “We need to change our clothes. Come on.”

“Fuck…” Negan groaned out trying to roll onto his side to push himself up, but Joel had to help him get up. Once he had Negan sitting, Joel went to the back of the SUV and grabbed his bag. Pulling off his shirt and then his jeans, Joel stood at the back of the car in just his boxers pushing through the bag to grab things for them. “I can’t move.”

“One second,” Joel quickly threw on some jeans, wincing out in pain when he pulled on the green button down they had bought for him previously. Leaving it open, he went over to Negan grabbing a hold of Negan’s tank top to help him pull the material from his body. Slumping forward, Negan did his best to keep himself up when he reached for his jeans to unhook them. Negan didn’t want someone else taking off his pants so he did his best to get his pants from his body. When he did, his cigarettes fell out onto the bench of the picnic table. Joel tossed the bloodied clothes into a bag for them to eventually toss while he gathered things for Negan to wear. Once Joel returned, he knew that Negan had too much pride for Joel to put his pants on him, so he tried to help Negan as much as possible. Once they were done with Negan’s clothes, Joel moved over toward the table to sit beside Negan who had grabbed a cigarette for himself. Shakily Negan held the lighter in his hands and tried to use it. When he failed, Joel reached for it and found himself failing with his dominant hand as well. Using the other, he managed to get the flame lit for Negan. “We’re a lively bunch, huh?”

“You’re fucking telling me,” Negan grumbled pulling the cigarette from his lips after inhaling a large amount. Holding the cigarette out, Joel stared out at the cigarette before accepting it. Taking it between his lips, Joel inhaled the smoke deeply closing his eyes when he did it. Passing the cigarette to Negan, they shared it while they waited for Y/N and neither one of them spoke. By the time that Y/N returned, Joel shifted on the table watching her moving out to the car to look for clothes for herself. Handing Negan back the remainder of the cigarette, Joel hopped down from the picnic table and wiped his hands off on his pants. “Y/N?”

“Don’t worry about me,” she brushed off hearing the tone of Negan’s voice while she searched for something else to wear. “We have other things to worry about.”

“I still don’t understand how someone found us,” Joel spoke up, pushing his hands into his pockets considering what happened to them today. Y/N was quick to change her clothes and Joel did his best to not watch her so she had her privacy. “We’ve been driving on the back roads. None of us have been on the phones other than to talk to Bill or Simon. The only people who knew where we were was the four of us.”

Clearing his throat, Joel gazed back at Negan who was putting out the cigarette on top of the picnic table. Joel tensed up, his jaw flexing when he looked between the three of them, “We know it wasn’t Poppy and I highly doubt that Y/N is paying someone to try to kill her…”

“What are you going off about?” Y/N stepped back while she buckled her jeans together. Gazing back at her, Joel gave her a worried expression when he reached for his gun that was at the back of his pants. Gasping out, she watched Joel grab the gun and point it out at Negan making her step forward. “Joel?!”

Hearing the worry in her voice, Negan lifted his head letting out a surprised sound when he saw Joel pointing the handgun at him, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Someone had to be telling them where we were. The only option left is you,” Joel announced making Negan’s eyebrows furrow and tip his head to the side. “We already know that some of her father’s security is trying to kill her with Perry. It only makes sense that it’s you.”

“What?” Negan snapped, his arm curling around his ribs when he slid closer to the edge of the picnic table. Pulling back the hammer made Negan’s jaw clench. “You think I’m working with the people who shot me and kicked my ass? I can barely fucking move. What makes you think I’d do this?”

“I don’t know, but people do crazy things all the time,” Joel pointed out knowing that in his mind there was no other way someone could have known where they were unless it was Negan that was feeding them the information.

“Joel, knock it off,” Y/N demanded reaching out to try to touch Joel, but he kept her behind him to keep her safe. “Negan didn’t do this. We both know that Negan had nothing to do with this.”

“Fuck, you wanna blame me, but how do we know that it wasn’t you?” Negan snarled drawing their attention back to him. Now Negan had his gun pointed at Joel as well making the moment even more uncomfortable. “You’re the one that had an agenda. Angry at her father. Using her to get to him. If I was the bad guy, I wouldn’t have gone above and beyond to keep your fucking family safe.”

“Stop this,” she demanded of the two of them finding herself panicked now that they were both pointing their guns at each other. “Neither of you did this! There are a lot of things that I’m not certain of in this world, but I know with my whole heart that neither one of you did this.”

“Then explain how this happened Y/N,” Joel watched Negan go to get up, but he wailed out in pain dropping down to the ground clutching his ribs in agony. It made Negan drop the gun and Y/N moved to Negan pulling him into her arms. Lowering the gun, Joel kept it in his hand and huffed. “This doesn’t make sense. What has been a constant other than the three of us? We know that they aren’t tracing the SUV because we picked that up along the way. We’ve changed our clothes. Destroyed our phones. We never tell anyone where we are.”

“I don’t know, but I know for certain it’s neither one of you,” Y/N stroked her fingers through Negan’s dark hair when he turned his head toward her chest showing the pain that he was still very much in. “You think either one of you would willingly put yourself through what just happened? Half Moon was out to kill all three of us. Nothing has been a constant with us. Other than maybe some jewelry that we wear, but no one is going to have a…”

“What is it?” Joel inquired seeing the way that her eyes shifted and she carefully let go of Negan. “Y/N?”

“Some of my father’s security has been part of this,” she recalled what Joel had said making Negan wince when he tried to pull himself up into a seated position. “So that means his security would potentially have access to my father’s things.”

“And?” Negan slurred watching the way she looked to him and it made Negan shake his head. “I swear…I haven’t done anything. It’s not me.”

Instead of saying anything else, she moved out in the distance and grabbed a rock. As she returned Negan panted only to be confused when she reached for the necklace that she had been wearing this whole time. Dropping it on the ground made both Joel and Negan confused.

“My father gave me this when I was eighteen. At the time he was pissed off at me for disappearing all the time. He told me it was a gift to make up for the necklace that he never gave me that was my mother’s…” she explained getting down on her knees using her strength to bring the rock over the necklace over and over again. Once something shattered it made her pull back the rock to see that the red stone had broken open and she had bent the infinity symbol. Shakily reaching out, she grabbed what appeared to be a tiny chip that was in the stone that had been in her necklace. “It was me…”

“The hell is that?” Joel went to reach for the chip only to watch her throw it to the ground. Repeatedly she beat the stone that she grabbed over it. Cries were filling the air while she did it and Joel didn’t know how to respond.

“Hey, hey…” Negan crawled out to her and wrapped his arms around her to bring her to his chest once she fell back into him. Sobs filled the air surrounding them while Negan cuddled her in closer to him. The chip was broken from what Joel could see, but he was still surprised that was how they were being followed. “It’s not your fault.”

“I was wearing the fucking tracker the whole time,” she explained making Joel drop to his knees while she had an absolute meltdown realizing that they had found them and killed Poppy because of the necklace that her father had given her. “I led them right to us. Poppy is dead because of me. It’s all my fault.”

“No, no…” Joel joined Negan in wrapping her up in his arms. They both held onto her with her absolutely breaking down in their grasps.

“This is not your fault,” Negan buried his nose against the side of her neck while she sobbed in their arms. “You’re not the one that did this.”

“I was so stupid. How did I not realize this whole time that I was always being tracked?” she questioned continuing to break down at the thought that her father’s gift that she wore every day led to her best friend’s death. “I should have known it wasn’t a gift from my father. It was a fucking tether that someone is using to take advantage.”

“We want to believe in the good with the people we love,” Joel reasoned with her, lifting his wrist to show the handmade bracelet that his daughter made for him. “We wear the things that the people who love us the most make for us because we want to support them. You wanted your father to love you so you wore that necklace in hopes that he really did care and love for you Y/N.”

Joel stroked his thumb in over her wrist where the bracelet Sarah had made for Y/N that he had given her on her birthday was, “We’re going to find out who did this Y/N.”

“He’s right,” Negan slurred, pressing a kiss over the side of her face while she continued to cry. “We have to move Y/N. If they are tracking us, they will know where we are. We’ve gotta go.”

Unhurriedly releasing her, Joel stood up and went to reach for Y/N, but Negan held his hand up to stop him, “Grab the guns, Joel.”

“Negan?” Joel heard Negan roar out when he managed to get to his knees hooking his arms under Y/N’s knees before getting her arms to hook around his shoulders. Surprising Joel, Negan managed to pick Y/N up in his arms as he took his time getting to the car. After grabbing the guns, Joel moved for the SUV to open the back door allowing Negan to get in the backseat with Y/N keeping her in his arms while she continued to cry.

Closing up the door, Joel moved as swiftly as he could to the driver’s seat. Getting in, he tossed the guns in a safe space before starting up the SUV. Peeling out of the parking area, Joel was quick to get back on the road so they could get out of there. At first, he drove around a while knowing that they just had to get out of the area.

Often, he would look back and steal looks at Negan holding Y/N in his arms in the backseat. Whispering comforting words to her, Negan was doing his best to make her calm down and Joel realized that Negan was so much better at this than he was. It seemed like Negan knew what to do in order to calm her down while still being there for her and it made his chest ache. Once things subsided a little bit they talked about where they should be headed and Negan suggested the safehouse that Simon told them about. Joel wasn’t incredibly sure about that considering everything they had gone through, but Negan seemed to trust Simon with everything that he was so they headed in that direction which was a few states over. It wasn’t going to be a short trip.

Joel kept driving until it got dark and when it did, he knew they all needed some rest so he pulled off into a wooded area for them to sleep. It just felt safer being in the car right now instead of sleeping at another motel after what happened. Y/N thought she discovered how they had been followed with her necklace and while he thought she may have been right he just wanted to be safe with things. Joel put his seat back while Y/N and Negan laid together in the back.

Even though he barely had the strength, Negan still was there in attempts to try to talk Y/N through things with Poppy. It was obvious why Y/N felt so close to Negan. The way the two of them were together, they hand a bond. And everything Negan said sounded so pure and loving without him even having to try that hard.

Eventually they fell asleep together and Joel gazed back over his shoulder feeling his jaw tightening seeing that she was sleeping in Negan’s arms almost comfortable for the first time since everything happened with Poppy. A sense of jealousy flooded his veins seeing her with Negan like she was. If things weren’t so fucked up that could have been him with her. Instead she fell into Negan’s arms and it made a lump develop in his throat.

Trying to turn away in the opposite direction, Joel bunched up his shirt in attempts to rest against the door. It took a while before he finally fell asleep. And when he woke up in the morning, he was sore as hell. They probably all were. The next day was always the hardest after getting injured. Pulling himself out of the car while Negan and Y/N were still sleeping in the back, Joel knew he needed a few moments to himself. After walking around for a few, he was surprised to find that Y/N was out of the SUV when he got back looking through one of the bags.

“Where did you go?” she gazed back at him when the sound of him walking was undoubtedly heard behind her.

“I had to…empty my bladder,” Joel explained making her smirk at the way he announced that when he moved in beside her to see that she was pulling out the antibiotics he had her taking for her gunshot wound and pain medication. “I think I’m going to need some of those.”

After grabbing two for herself, she tossed the bottle over to Joel who took two for himself. They shared a water to take the pills before resting back against the SUV. Awkward silence surrounded them while their arms rubbed up together.

“Are you feeling any better?” Joel’s eyebrow arched up, his head lowering just enough to tip down to look at her. That was a dumb question and he knew that he shouldn’t have asked it. But he was worried about her.

“Not really,” she was honest instead of lying to him. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to be okay Joel.”

“I don’t think any of us expect you to be,” Joel replied with a frown, his fingers extending out enough to skim in over hers. Loosely their fingers hooked together. “Do you really think this safehouse is…safe?”

“We have nowhere else to go, so I have to hope that this will work,” she claimed, her face twisting with discomfort. Her lips parted and she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. It was obvious she wanted to though and she was just working herself up to it. “When we go to the safehouse, are you still leaving?”

Squeezing her fingers in his hand, Joel sighed and looked away from her knowing that doing that was giving her his answer, “I am.”

“Okay,” she simply whispered, keeping her fingers hooked with Joel’s as she stepped before him. Tipping up on her toes, she pressed a loving kiss over the side of his face making him close his eyes at the closeness of her. Using her free hand, she stroked over his cheek making him let out a shuddering breath. “If there is one thing I learned in the last twenty-four hours, it’s to let the people that mean something to you know that you care about them. So here it goes…”

Joel felt his chest tightening when she stepped back, but still kept her fingers hooked with his. Stroking her thumb over the back of his hand had chills flooding his body and he could see that she was starting to cry again, but it was far more contained than the times before.

“You saved my life and for that I will be forever grateful for you,” she declared nodding her head and letting out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know if when you leave if I will ever see you again, but I know you love your daughter and I don’t want you to think that I’m holding that against you. I was being greedy by wanting to keep you here and now I understand that. It’s very dangerous being with me. You’re not wrong. And I love you. So I do think it’s for the best if you do leave because your daughter deserves to have her father. So I guess before we have to make it weird, this is my thank you and my goodbye before we separate our ways once we get to that safehouse.”

Stepping forward, Joel raised his palm and stroked over the side of her face sweeping away the tears that were there. With her bottom lip quivering, Joel felt his own eyes tearing over while he stared down at her and she shrugged her shoulders, “I mean it when I tell you that I love you. I do. I think you’re beautiful inside and out. No matter what our relationship stemmed from. You’re an amazing man Joel Miller and I want you to know that I’m happy to have experienced the time with you that I did. I wish I could go back in time and fix things for you. If anyone deserves a happy life, it’s you.”

Parting his lips, Joel let out what sounded like a small whimper before cupping her face in his hands. Tipping down, he brought their lips together to kiss her knowing that he shouldn’t have been doing it with Negan in the car but it was an emotional moment and he was being fueled by the way he was feeling in that moment. It was a sweet, delicate sweeping motion with his lips over hers. When he pulled away, he rest his forehead against hers while caressing his thumbs over her cheekbones.

“I’m so sorry,” Joel apologized, his thumb dragging over her bottom lip making her eyes come to a tight close. “I had no idea what your life was like. What I did was wrong, but…I don’t regret feeling for you. Because I do.”

“I forgive you,” she whispered making him let out a shuddering breath. Grabbing his hand, she placed a kiss over the back of his hand and gave his fingers a tight squeeze. “I can’t live in anger or hold grudges. Not when I have no idea what tomorrow brings. I’m just glad it brought you into my life because I did, I do and I will forever love you, Joel.”

Letting out an overwhelmed exhale, Joel continued to brush his fingers over the side of her face knowing that she meant it. There was no doubt that she loved both him and Negan. He knew that and he understood it. Right now his emotions were spiraling out of control. There were the feelings that he had for her and the thoughts he had with going back to his family.

“We should probably wake Negan to at least give him some of his medicine and then I will drive for a while. Let you rest in the passenger’s seat,” she released Joel and, in that moment, he didn’t know if he felt like that was really the final goodbye he wanted the two of them to have.

It felt like it lacked emotion from him and he didn’t want to leave her with a lack of things on his side. But when she went to get Negan his pills, he knew that it was just something he would have to deal with. Negan could barely move when he woke up this morning and it was obvious he was going to need rest. Hell, even Joel hurt more than he cared to admit. So when it was time to leave, he got his shit together and just got into the car beside her.

Unintentionally he fell asleep while she was driving and by the time he woke up it was already dark making him let out a worried breath. When he jolted forward, she reached out to place her hand in over his thigh to calm him down, “You both needed the sleep. It’s okay.”

Shakily Joel brushed his fingers through his messy hair when she looked back over her shoulder to steal a glance at Negan who was breathing unevenly and loudly. It made Joel wonder if Negan had been injured more than they actually knew.

“Hey Negan?” she called out to him, but it was no use so Joel reached back to touch Negan giving him a gentle shake. With his long eyelashes fluttering to an open, Negan tried pulling himself up into a seated position. His arms were shaking while he tried to use the strength that he had to get himself up. “Take your time, I just need you to write down Rick’s contact information and address for when we get to the safehouse.”

With a nod, Negan managed to get himself seated. Shakily reaching out for something, Negan grabbed a receipt that they had in the car from some fast food they had picked up earlier. Joel grabbed a marker that they had in the front handing it over to Negan. Using his mouth to pull the cap off, Negan tremored while he wrote down the information.

“We’re almost there,” Y/N alerted them making Joel’s throat go dry at the idea that they were going to be officially separating. “Joel, we need Bill��s phone number so we can know that you’re okay.”

“Of course,” Joel accepted the paper that Negan gave him and ripped it in half. Writing down the number he handed it over to Y/N and when they pulled down the road that the home was on Joel felt awkward all over again. It was a dark road much like the last one. Except this time the house was much smaller in a very secluded area. Parking at the end of the driveway, Y/N looked to Joel and they stared at one another. “I guess this is it.”

“Let’s grab our stuff,” she spoke up to Negan who had a hard time getting out of the car, but he was pushing himself to do so. Negan grabbed one of the handguns and their bags that had their personal belongings. Y/N left the money that she had grabbed with Joel promising him that she would be fine. Negan’s arm was hooked around her shoulders while she did her best to keep a barely conscious Negan up. “Goodbye Joel.”

“I should help you into the house,” Joel suggested making her shake her head and look back toward the home to see that it was dark.

“Simon said no one has been here in years. We’ll be okay,” she assured Joel showing that she didn’t want to focus too much on him leaving. It was emotional for her. There were tears in her eyes and Joel knew that she was doing her best to push him away so she didn’t break over him leaving. “Goodbye Joel.”

“Goodbye,” Joel breathed out watching her carefully turning Negan so that they could start walking to the entrance of the home that was there. Sitting in the front seat of the SUV, Joel watched them for a moment letting out an aggravated sound. “You need to leave Joel.”

Forcing himself to start driving away, Joel looked in the rearview mirror seeing Y/N and Negan moving slowly toward the home. Once he got to the bottom of the road to leave the safehouse, he stopped. There was no traffic. No one was out there. Hell it was in the middle of nowhere. There shouldn’t have been anyone there. Over and over again he tried to convince himself to go, but he was stuck.

Hitting the steering wheel made the brights from the SUV turn on revealing in the woods across the street what looked to be cars that were hidden behind brush making Joel let out a nervous sound. Pulling open the door, he looked down at the muddy ground to see that there were multiple tire prints there leaving him to think about what she said. Simon told her that this house had been empty for years. They were in the middle of nowhere. This didn’t make sense.

Putting the car into reverse, Joel turned off the lights and gunned it backwards looking over his shoulder to see where he was going. Stopping the SUV, Joel immediately reached for the handgun that had been given to him. Leaving the SUV running, Joel hopped out of the front seat after parking it to run out into the yard.

Right as Y/N and Negan were about to approach the door, Joel lunged forward wrapping his arms around the both of them to pull them into the bushes that were in front of the home. Wincing out in pain, Negan couldn’t contain himself and Joel immediately covered Negan’s mouth with his free hand.

Placing his finger over his lips, Joel motioned them to be quiet when a light flashed inside of the house making Y/N’s eyes get big at the sight of it. Pushing Negan and Y/N’s heads further down, Joel watched from where he was seeing that the door opened.

“I swear to God, I fucking heard something,” someone’s voice muttered making Joel tense up wondering how many people were inside. He knew that the three of them could not take on another round of people that were here to attack them. Negan was the strongest of the three of them and he was completely out of it. The best chance they had was to stay quiet and escape when they could. “It’s so fucking dark out here. We should turn a light on.”

“So when they get here, we can let them know that we’re here waiting for them?” another voice snapped from behind the stranger who stepped out to look around. Lowering down as much as possible, Joel knew the less they moved the better. “Get the fuck back in here before they spot you outside. If they see you, they are going to keep on driving.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the original stranger grumbled heading back into the house slamming the door behind him. Watching the window, Joel paid attention to the light before it was far enough away.

Speaking quietly, Joel leaned forward to whisper in Y/N’s ear, “You’re going to run for the SUV. It’s at the bottom of the driveway. I left the door open and the truck is running. You run, I’ve got Negan. Once I get him into the back you drive and you drive as fast as you possibly can. Do you understand me?”

Nodding, she did what Joel requested of her when he pointed toward the SUV. Using the strength that he still had, Joel stood up and threw Negan over his shoulder. Carrying the taller man as quickly as he could, Joel managed to get to the SUV and fell into the backseat with Negan. Before he could even close the door, Y/N was pulling out of the driveway. Scrambling for the door, Joel closed it shut and let out a panicked breath looking back to make sure they weren’t being followed.

“How did you know?” Y/N questioned making Joel bite down on his bottom lip while he clung to the gun making sure to keep them safe while she drove. “I don’t understand. They said it had been empty for years.”

“Well either Simon is the fucking bad guy or his phone is tapped,” Joel announced looking to Negan who had propped himself up against the door of the backseat of the SUV. “Because there were several cars hidden in the woods across the street and there were tire tracks. They set you up, again. You can’t trust anyone that is involved with your father. Including Simon.”

“I don’t understand,” Negan stammered, wrapping his arm around his ribs while shaking his head. “Simon was there for Lucille and me when I had nothing. I got a job because of him and he…I refuse to believe that Simon did this.”

“Then someone is tapping his phone Negan,” Joel asserted making Negan frown and rest his head against the window of the backseat. “Y/N you need to keep driving. Once we’re far enough away we’ll switch. I’m taking us to the only place where I know we will be safe.”

“Where is that?” Y/N wondered looking in the rearview mirror to see that Joel was still watching the back like a hawk almost waiting for them to be followed.

“Bill’s,” Joel answered with a loud swallow making her let out a surprised sound. “I don’t care what he fucking says. I’m taking both you and Negan there with me. I’ll leave Sarah and Tommy with Rick until we can figure this shit out because I’m not going to allow the two of you to die.”

And that’s what they did. When Joel knew they weren’t being followed, they switched spots and Joel drove for hours to get them to Bill’s home. By the time they finally got there, they left their things in the SUV while Joel helped Negan walk up to the front door.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Y/N announced knowing that Bill was pretty firm on the fact that he didn’t want them there. Instead of hearing her worries, Joel rang the doorbell and waited. When it was taking some time Joel started ringing the bell over and over again while he balanced Negan’s weight with his other arm. “No one is home.”

“Oh, they are home,” Joel guaranteed her and a moment later the door pulled open to reveal the panicked expression of the homely looking man before them. The man was an average height, his beard bushy and his hair long. “Let us in Bill.”

“Joel! What the hell?” Bill snapped and that’s when another man slowly revealed himself from behind Bill. When Bill heard him, he waved his hand to get the man to stop moving forward toward them. “Stay there.”

“They look like hell,” the other man announced stepping forward toward the door, but Bill placed his hand in over the man’s chest to keep him from moving forward. “They need medical help.”

“We don’t know if they’ve been followed, we can’t have them here,” Bill declared making Joel’s glare grow deeper. Gazing between the three of them, Bill’s eyes fell upon Y/N and he immediately shook his head. “Especially her.”

“I know you have the tools to make sure that we aren’t being tracked. We’ll grab the SUV and ditch it if you’re worried, but you have to let us in. We have to figure out what is happening. You owe me. You owe me after what I did to save your life,” Joel reminded Bill with an overwhelmed exhale. Flustered, Bill look between all of them and shook his head. “We have money Bill. Lots of it in the car. Whatever it takes, we need your help.”

“Oh, I don’t want or need your blood money,” Bill snorted, folding his arms out in front of his chest making it clear where he stood on the situation. “You’re lucky that I was helping you to begin with.”

A pained sound fell from Negan’s throat, his head dropping forward causing the man that Bill was with to push through to try to help Negan. It caused Bill to shake his head and he put his arm up to block them from entering the home, “Damn it Frank! No! We can’t take in all the strays because when we do that, they are going to bring their fleas in with us and we’re going to end up catching them.”

“Listen you son of a bitch,” Y/N snapped, moving forward to shove her hand into the center of Bill’s chest making him huff out. “We’re not fucking dogs. We’re human beings. And as far as I’m concerned, I don’t like you very much, but you’re the only person that can help us. I was shot on my birthday. I traveled across the country to stay safe and I ended up losing my best friend. The one person in my life that loved me unconditionally. I’ve had to watch these two almost die to keep me safe. Grow a fucking sack for once in your miserable life and help us. Or I swear to God…”

An impressed sound fell from Bill’s throat causing him to lower his arm which allowed Frank to help Joel push through him to get Negan into the living room that had a large piano in it. With her eyes locked on Bill’s, she slowly followed him into the house. After he let her in, he lowered his head and cussed to himself. It seemed like he was having a fight amongst himself and she didn’t know what to say.

“Bill?” Frank called out to the smaller man of the two making Bill hold his hand up to stop him.

“We shouldn’t have brought them in here,” Bill stated, looking back toward Frank who was looking over Negan who seemed to be dazed.

“We should have and we did,” Frank asserted pointing toward a certain area of the house. “You know you can help them and that’s exactly what we are going to do. So why don’t you be useful and go get the medical supplies so I can get a look at all of them.”

“Fine,” Bill snorted, his angry eyes glancing between all of them. It was clear that he didn’t like agreeing to this, but Frank was the one with the final say in this home and Y/N was thankful for him. Both Joel and Frank were tending to Negan while Bill stood face to face with Y/N. “You know, I never pictured you to do what you just did at that door. Impressive. Truthfully, I’m surprised to see that you’re still alive.”

“You and me both,” she agreed with him letting out a stressed sound when she reached up to place her hand over her throat. It reminded her of being attacked all over again when the pain lingered which made her think of Poppy.

“Bill!” Frank snapped making Bill roll his eyes and stomp off leaving her alone to herself at the other end of the room.

This was their last resort. It was either Bill or they were fucked. And she hoped that Bill would be able to help them. Or else she was doomed. They all were if they couldn’t figure out what was happening once and for all.

----

Tags: @jennydehavilland @ibelongtonegan @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @insertneganhere @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @wonwoosthetic @misskittydenoire @casangel1986 @pedritosdarling

#Negan #Joel Miller #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Pedro Pascal #The Last of Us #The Walking Dead #negan x reader #joel miller x reader #twd fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #negan fanfiction #negan x you #joel miller x you

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deadmenandthedivine · 9 months

Text

DEAD MEN § THE DIVINE

chapter three: mysteries that muddy the keep

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 4529

The weight of the day had gotten so heavy, she wondered if it showed in her muscles. Her attempted massagings in her chambers earlier had done nothing. Dinner with the family had not finished on any higher of a note, and all Maetilda could think of was the promise of winding down for the evening. Ever the responsible and obedient child, Jacaerys had been instructed to escort both Lucerys and Maetilda to their respective chambers before retiring to his own. Giggling like an ornery boy as he treated his brother as he would a lady, the older walked in the middle with his two siblings on each of his arms. Princess Maetilda’s sworn sword, Ser Gunthor, followed behind them about ten paces back. He was struggling to conceal his own laughter under his breath, but the princess’ trained ears could hear it nonetheless. There were worse things than laughter. Let the servants talk. What ill would there be to report about the three of them joking around the corridors? Unlike the Hightowers, theirs was an innocent party. The siblings continued to snicker as they tried and failed to trip each other. That is, until Lucerys actually lost his footing and hit the ground. Then the three and the knight behind them were in stitches. Their laughter rumbled the corridors like a dragon’s roar. They cradled their aching sides from the loss of air, but the hysterics would not stop. Even Lucerys remained sat on the ground, too weak from his giggling to stand. Straw, dirt, and whatever other filth that lay there undoubtedly messing his trousers. Maybe they had too much wine at dinner.

The laughter of four easily covered up the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. Especially the stumbling uneven ones of the King’s eldest son. Prince Aegon was moving as fast as he could in an attempt to escape his guards, Sers Arryk and Erryk Cargyll. The crashing and clanking of their armor was eventually what won out over the sweet notes of laughter. The four bodies froze as they heard the three sets of footsteps approaching them. It was hard to see who was coming around the bend of the corridor. As if snapping into a trance, Ser Gunthor spun on his heels and unsheathed his longsword. Prince Jacaerys stepped up next to him at the ready. Completely unarmed, Princess Maetilda threw her body in front of Prince Lucerys who had gone shell shocked on the ground. Her skirts were surprisingly excellent at hiding the boy. However, they all seemed to relax as the scene running toward them finally came into view. The King’s eldest son could not run straight. He bounced back and forth from wall to wall as his feet carried him. Liquor and bile was spilled down the front of him, staining his dress shirt. His pants were untied and threatening to fall off his fleshy hips. Fresh off their laughing fit, the four struggled more than usual to keep a straight face.

“Prince Aegon, you best slow your pace! Your knights look as if they’ve been chasing you for far too long.” The princess could not help but taunt from behind the protection of two swords. He was drunk after all. And she was not completely of sound mind either.

“Til, shut up!” Jacaerys hissed under his breath.

“I’ll have you know we do this for fun!” Aegon barked.

“Is it time for them to put you to bed?” She poked.

“I’ll put you to bed, cousin!” The threats came so quickly it was as if he didn’t have to think of them, “Since your thickheaded father doesn’t seem capable of finding you a husband.”

“You couldn’t walk up the steps to my chambers if you tried!” Maetilda sneered.

“I shall order these two to carry me if I must!” He laughed, gesturing to the Cargyll twins who looked uncomfortable flanked behind him.

“That’s enough.” Jacaerys cut in authoritatively, “Prince Aegon, you will not dishonor my sister and your own. Not tonight, not ever.”

“And what would you do about it, boy? Take one of my eyes?”

Jace visibly stewed as his mind searched for words. Maetilda’s mouth began to move before she had even realized it, “He would not have to do anything. Your knights are sworn to protect us as well. Unless you’ve forgotten you’re speaking to the second in line for the Throne after the heir.”

The laugh that left Aegon’s throat was hearty, sarcastic, and maniacal, “Ah, yes! It must have slipped my mind. My apologies, your Grace. I shall go sheath my sword in another woman and imagine it is the cunt of your sweet sister, as is honorable. Send me an invitation to the wedding if she ever finds a man miserable enough to put up with her.”

Instinctually, Maetilda’s arms flew around her stepbrother’s arms and torso as he went to launch forward at the oldest Prince’s insults. The princess’s heart beat wildly in her chest. She was sure her brother could feel it on his back. He thrashed against her with fury and determination. Ser Gunthor kept his sword raised threateningly. His face was beat red as his body shook with anger. If this were not the King’s eldest son, the knight would have already snapped. That much was very, very clear. He looked like a sadistic bull, reading to charge. Aegon’s laughter seemed to only grow. The princess knew she had to keep both the swords at bay as she fought back flashbacks to the aftermath of Aegon’s brother losing his eye at Driftmark. They were men and woman grown, skirmishes could not be fought over petty insults from a man with bile on his shirt, “We will not swing first.”

“Your knight looks like he’s going to expel dragonfire, princess! Oh, what a sight!” Aegon continued to taunt, “I would love to watch the twins poke holes in him. Let him go, won’t you?”

“Aegon, go to bed.” Maetilda spat, shoving her knight and her brother behind her, “You are drunk and making an embarrassment of yourself.”

The prince’s laughter ceased at the e-word. The taunting noise stopped short in his throat. His back straightened as he fixed the front of his shirt anxiously, but then he smirked, “Please do tell my mother of the disgrace I am. We shall meet again soon.”

Without another word, the Prince turned on his heel and doubled back down the corridor, taking a different turn than the one he came down. A tapestry of a peasant kneeling piously before a High Septon hung on one of the walls. It billowed against the stone as he passed. The Cargyll twins paced behind him. All four of the original party stood still in shock, regaining their breath. Jacaerys rolled his eyes as he huffed and puffed, “That’s the direction of either the library or the Hand’s Tower, not his chambers.”

“His mother can worry about him now.” Maetilda grumbled.

“What he said was wrong, Til.” Lucerys finally spoke up.

“Nyke gīmigon.” She bit back. (I know)

“He doesn’t know what he speaks of.” The boy pressed.

“I know!”

Parroting the King’s eldest son, the four parted to their chambers without another exchange. Jacaerys escorted his younger brother while the princess’s sworn knight escorted her. The walk felt short. The princess was deep within her own mind the entire time. It was as if she was waiting for a barrage of guards to come rounding the corner to take her to the dungeons. Punish her for saying the things she did to the King’s eldest son. Just because she had a title, did not mean she was immune from being accused of treason. With Lucerys’ inheritance in question, it was hard to say what else was safe. Especially with the blood of the Rogue Prince coursing through her veins, a man who had been banished more than once, it would not be hard to accuse her of ill-will. The two reached her chambers, and the knight held open the door. Her handmaidens were already inside, readying the room for sleep. Noarysa lit the fire while Adelyn oiled the full bath. Like a toddling infant, Maetilda stepped into the room and took off her jewelry in a trance. The maids greeted her, helped her disrobe, and lowered her into the bath. The princess did not say a word as they scrubbed at her body, soaped and oiled it. Before moving onto her hair, taking out the adornments, unbraiding and brushing it. They avoided getting it wet, as she only washed her hair in the mornings, but the steam would be good for it nonetheless. Noarysa massaged the princess’ scalp with her fingernails, drawing a subconscious hum from Maetilda’s chest. After her bath, she was dressed into her silk nightgown. It had angel sleeves that never made her feel overheated at night. The gown clung to her chest before cascading down to her ankles, allowing for plenty of legroom in bed. Before Adelyn and Noarysa could get to work on sleeping braids, the princess dismissed them. Leaving her silver honey hair cascading in curly waves down passed her tailbone.

She almost didn’t hear the door shut behind them. Her insides boiled and bubbled worse than any stew or bathwater. The grown prince knew how to cut deep with his words, or perhaps he was just accidentally talented at it. Regardless, the princess returned to her pacing from before, this time doing it out on the balcony in the gleam of the moonlight. Memories of the night Aemond lost his eye bounced around her head mercilessly again. The queen rushing forward, dagger in hand. Aegon’s snickering. Aemond’s grunts of pain. Jace and Luke screaming as both Daemon and Rhaenyra had thrown themselves in front of them. The Velaryons launching into action to cover her sisters, Baela and Rhaena. Her two sworn knights at the time, Eddrin and Wyllam, were the only ones to move to protect her. The Hightowers would have harmed them all that night if it weren’t for the King, perhaps they would have killed them. She could not shove the memories down this time. They looped and echoed over and over and over again. She hated that night. She tried her best to never think of it, pretend it had never happened. But it always seemed to haunt her. Her family was still not safe.

In a desperate attempt to continue its own torment, her mind drifted to that of her mother. The Lady was said to have been brazen and bold, steadfast and level headed, noble and intelligent. Her knights spoke of her highly, often proclaiming that she could back even a giant into a corner with her words alone. She was sharp, both in wit and instinct. With every fiber of her being, the princess wanted nothing more than to emulate the great stories of the woman she did not know. Would she have sat and let the Prince speak of her in such a way? To her in such a way? The woman of the stories would not, certainly not. She would have been more likely to spring forward and wring his neck, despite whatever the Cargyll twins would have done to her for it. She would have met with the King himself and made her threats directly to the Crown. The princess worried that she would never be like her mother, and it filled her with shame. Her face twisted as she fought back tears that suddenly threatened to spill. She was better than that. Her mother would not have cried like that. Perhaps her mother would have been ashamed of her too. Although she would never know; a truth that hurt worse than any embarrassment or shame.

As she paced back inside, her chambers began to feel hot, too hot. Her skin dampened with sweat and her breath felt humid. She scurried around the room to blow out various candles, knowing the fireplace would die out on its own. Yet the chambers still felt hot. So much so that she could not even look at her bed or the blankets that laid upon it. Instead, she opened as many windows as she could, allowing the night breeze to roll in. The curtains billowed viciously in every direction. The fire dwindled as the breeze circulated. A few more candles blew out on their own. Despite the movement of the breeze, it was too quiet. Even a whisper would feel like a shout as no usual noise floated from King’s Landing and into the castle walls. Her paces continued as her limbs itched, unable to shake the feeling that she needed to do something. She had too much energy to expel. Her mind was too loud. She was too hot. It was all too much. She needed out. As if possessed by a spirit, she sprung into action. Flung open her wardrobe doors, her hands grabbed the first overcoat her eyes landed on. Despite the heat she felt, the princess was not about to be caught dead in an immodest state after Prince Aegon’s snarls in the corridor. Her hands shook as she fastened the all-encompassing, navy blue garment into place. She felt like she was floating as her feet quickly carried her over to the door.

Ser Gunthor jumped as she opened it, “Good evening, Princess. It’s quite late to be going anywhere.”

“My room is too hot. I need to leave.” She told him, staring him furiously in the eye.

“Are you alright, mi’lady? You look a bit pale.” His brows furrowed as he pushed himself off of the wall he leaned upon.

“I just told you.”

Without another word, the princess took off down the dark corridor. Her knight had half-a-mind to grab a lit torch as he scrambled to follow her. It was, more often than not, their only source of light as they walked. Maetilda had no idea where she was going, especially without the light of day to guide her. Regardless, her bare feet padded across the floors at an even yet frantic speed. She could tell that the knight behind her was trying to quiet his steps, but the clunk and squeak of metal continued to sting her ears. They had wandered to the base of Maegor’s Holdfast and back before accidentally turning down the same corridor that Aegon had earlier. She could tell by the menacing tapestry of the peasant kneeling before the High Septon. The imagery sent a shiver down her spine. The princess was not entirely sure what she was looking for or where she was headed. Luckily it was late enough that the corridors were empty; they were wider and more intricately decorated at this part of the keep too. Only the occasional rat crossed their path, soon followed by a prowling cat. Admittedly, the cats were cuter at the Red Keep. They looked well fed and cared for. Their hair was brushed, and there were only minimal signs of scarring from fights. They seemed much happier than the ones at Dragonstone that liked to patrol both the castle and the beaches. Those cats were grumpier and far more food aggressive, despite the fact they got fed regularly. The princess suspected they were in competition with the seagulls more. Dragonstone generally had a harsher climate to it too. Not as bad as Storm’s End, but enough. Perhaps the storms stirred the cats up. That or the mass of dragons nested at Dragonmont. She missed the sounds of them deeply. Their chirps and bellows and roars. Most especially, she missed her own dragon. Her presence and her temperament. Whenever she felt like a fifth wheel amongst Jace and Luke and her twin sisters, she knew she always had Shrykos. They could lose days together in the sky, drowning in each other’s comfort. Her heart ached at her companion’s absence, having left the she-dragon at home per the Queen’s orders.

The paintings and tapestries were all different from the ones she had very vaguely remembered being there. All symbols and imagery not etched in stone had been replaced by that of the Seven. Even then, many statues had been replaced too. It was an uncanny sight that made the hairs on the back of her head stand up. None of this was good. There were doors periodically lining the corridor, many of them shut and locked. A few led into solars, one contained a room of instruments, even a room dedicated to having portraits painted. She had sat for a personal one on the steps in the throne room at Dragonstone only half a year prior. She wondered if all of those rooms were differently decorated now too. And if any of the lords and ladies put up a fight as the Queen ripped each piece out one by one. And what she did with the discarded relics. Perhaps the rooms that were locked were the ones that had not been made over yet. As the princess walked, her father’s less than enthusiastic mood began to make more and more sense to her. A place he had known for most of his life looked as if it had been usurped right before his eyes. It must have been nauseating. The Hightowers knew no boundaries. The Red Keep was not theirs to decorate. His mother, Princess Alyssa, had infamously loathed all things ladylike. Yet she had a hand in selecting many of the pieces in the corridors herself. There were no dragons anywhere. And their absence was too loud. Perhaps this made her father miss his own mount Caraxes as well. Together, they had been to war and back. Yet, they had not come back here together after almost half a decade.

The doors to the library were already slightly ajar when she had passed them. It was peculiar enough for her footsteps to falter, causing her to halt all together. She found herself glancing back at her sworn sword for reassurance, only to find him looking at her as if she had sprouted two more heads. Annoyance bubbled within her at his lack of blind trust in her, but she pushed it down as she decided to push the door to the library open further. She would snoop with or without him. Although he was quite literally sworn to follow her. Her footsteps froze yet again once she was inside the room. The expanse of it was breathtaking. Full-length windows for as long as the eye could see and even on the ceiling. The moon cast its own light and shadows through each one of them, allowing for the hall to be more visible than the corridors had. Rows upon rows of bookshelves lined the walls and room, as well as chairs and tables and chaise lounges. There were fireplaces and barrels of wine, just about anything one could imagine in a room dedicated to reading and study. The princess audibly gasped at the sight. Her eyes drank in every dark nook and cranny. She could only imagine the beauty it held in the daylight, especially in her uncle’s prime when the gardens that lined the windows would be in full bloom. Her brows furrowed as she stressed over which direction to head first.

“Only a few of the lamps are lit, Princess. Do you think someone is here?” The knight whispered into her ear, tickling the skin around her neck.

“Well, it certainly isn’t Aegon. I doubt he can see straight enough to read.” She muttered back.

“He did leave in this direction.” Ser Gunthor countered quietly.

This made the princess pause as she could not deny the sworn sword had a point. She could not hold his gaze as she mulled over his words, taking the time to listen for any signs of life. The library hall was utterly silent. Not even the squeaks of rats or chirps of crickets could be heard. So as not to make the first noise, the pair crept down the entrance stairs on the balls of their feet. The princess was wide awake. She could have easily paced up and down every single shelf and aisle. There had to have been so many books that she had never even heard of, it was hard to wrap her head around. Much to her dismay, as much as the princess could expertly read and write, she found it impossible to actually read a book. Her mind was too busy, too loud. She would read one page and forget what she had been reading for the previous three, forcing her to have to go back and repeatedly reread. One book could take her an entire month. However, she found it much easier when she could listen to someone else read aloud. It was even better if she could have her own book to follow along and make notes on the margins with. The latter was an occurrence that only happened a handful of times before as it was rare for a library to have repeat copies. Unless they were school books or particularly popular titles. The princess did not like to draw attention to the practice of hers, but she was always sure to buy two books when she held the coin purse. Without any forethought or planning, the princess turned into the first aisle with enough moonlight to see, eager to peruse at least a few titles. Perhaps she could convince Jacaerys to read them to her. She would absolutely have no luck with Lucerys if asked. He would only do so if he thought it was a joke. Another squeak in the knight’s armor made the princess halt in her step.

She turned to him sharply and whispered, “You must not come down the aisle with that torch! You’ll start a fire.”

“Princess!” He hissed as he obediently backed out of the aisle and held his torch away from anything made of parchment or wood.

“What?” She hissed back.

“You must not go far!”

“I will do what I want.”

“We don’t know who is in here!” Without another word from her knight, the princess turned on her heel and paraded away from him.

“Gods be damned!” He muttered under his breath.

She paid him no mind as her head whipped around on every angle it could to get a view of every single title possible. History, mythology, poetry, even romance. They were all organized by subject, it seemed. ‘The Love of King Jaehaerys and His Queen’ According to her father, there wasn’t much in the end. They grew at odds over the behavior of one of their daughters. The romance books never mentioned that part. Her hands jumped out to grab the spine of one titled ‘The Travels of Silverwing and Good Queen Alysanne,’ pulling it from the shelf to hug it to her body. As she walked, she wondered if any of the books had illustrations. It was rare, but some did. They were normally found in children’s books. It was expensive to hire an artist, and even more expensive to have their work replicated on more than one copy. She knew if she were to find any with them, it would be in the Royal Library or at Oldetown — but women weren’t allowed in that library. She reached out to grab another titled ‘King Jaehaerys’ Many Daughters.’ Ignoring her knight's complaints, she weaved in and out of the maze of aisles.

The princess passed by tales of the North and the Neck. There was a large section dedicated to the Isle of Faces, a place she had only scarcely heard about. She walked even deeper until she found the aisle that made her heart sing. The section dedicated to the Vale. Books on the landing of the First Men, the Winged Knight, the Mountains of the Moon. She gasped in delight before scurrying down the aisle. Her eyes drank in every single spine, searching every single title for a book on Runestone. There seemed to be none. She made it all the way down the aisle, searching high and low, before she found a small book about the Bronze Kings and added it to her collection. ‘The Mighty Histories of the Bronze Kings.’ As the princess pulled the book from the shelf, the light of several candles caught her eye. She hugged it close to the others and turned to investigate. In a small clearing tucked back in a corner, sat a table and chair stacked high with books and candles. The candles had not been lit long, wax had only just begun to pool at the bottom. Perhaps they really had interrupted someone’s study. One of the books sat open on a middle page, there was a metal bookmark located a bit deeper into the book. It looked as if they had planned on returning.

Completely at the mercy of her own curiosity, Maetilda crept forward so that she could catch a glimpse at a few of the titles. ‘The First Men of Runestone,’ ‘Robar Royce, Second of His Name, High King of the Vale,’ ‘Runesmen and Their Gilded Honor.’ That had been where all the books on Runestone had gone. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Who would want to be reading about her house and her histories? Her feet carried her farther forward so that she could see what the book laid open was about. As she took careful steps forward, she could not help but notice the words on the page were not written in characters of the common tongue. They were runes. With a hand on the current page, she flipped the front of it forward to reveal the title: ‘Magic of the First Men: Runes and Their Many Uses.’ Perhaps Aegon really had come to the library. In his drunken state, he could have felt a wave of passion. Although the King’s first son was not known to be a bookish man.

A crash sounded from one of the aisles over, causing the princess to jump back from the books. Wanting nothing more than to avoid another encounter with Aegon, she clutched the books in her possession tighter to her chest and scurried back into the maze of aisles in the direction of her knight. She nearly got lost in the expanse of it before she spotted the light from the torch he held. She was thankful he did not say a word as she silently ushered them up the stairs and out of the room. It was almost time for her knights’ shifts to switch when they had made it back to her chambers. The princess delivered Ser Gunthor one last expressionless nod as she ducked back into her assigned bedroom for the evening. With the breeze from outside still coming in through her open windows, the room finally didn’t feel as hot. Book on the Bronze Kings in hand, she crawled under the blankets and into bed. It was comfortable. Her assigned accommodations at the Red Keep were more than comfortable. Regardless, sleep evaded her. All she could think about was that abandoned stack of books.

A/N: idk i love this chapter. just be careful around open flames y’all.

xoxo messy

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