#but i just looked at a couple again and no yeah it's the full spoiler summaries that are on wikipedia djkjfg

[markantonys]

one of my earliest WOT book-related memories is reading the brief wikipedia summaries for each book and getting to one of the slog books that mentioned "perrin continues searching for his wife" and i thought "damn, he still hasn't found her yet?" little did i know

[disneyprincemuke]

✧.* the parent trap / ls2 *.✧

while luna's observant nature is typically a blessing, you suddenly find yourself a part of her little games after you and logan get into a fight that leaves you refusing to talk to one another

notes: i missed dad!logan so here we are

“love,” logan sighs as his hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “come on.”

“don’t even say that to me!” you shriek before turning to walk away from him. “no, seriously, logan. i no longer want to speak to you.”

“you can’t just do that!”

“yeah, i can! watch me!”

marriage is fun, they said. though you actually cannot remember who specifically said that to you, or is that something you told yourself to make yourself feel better for getting married at 20?

either way, it’s tough juggling being a wife to an athlete who is rarely home, your job and a 5-year-old. you just wish someone had talked some sense into you before you decided that teenage pregnancy was smart.

spoiler alert: it, in fact, is not.

so you spend the night in the guest room by yourself with frustration in your veins. you could have opted to continue arguing with logan, but the sleeping toddler just a door down just makes it so difficult to continue.

your ability to turn a petty argument into a full fledged argument has bled into your marriage, and you have to admit that both of you are still slowly still figuring that part out.

it’s a lot harder than you thought.

you fall asleep after tossing and turning for hours, not used to the stiffness of the bed in the guest bedroom that’s only ever lived in when logan’s brother comes for a visit. the sheets smell too clean and the room is neat — you’re rarely inside, only using it as luna’s makeshift playroom at times.

so imagine the toddler’s shock when she knocks on the master bedroom door and stumbles in only to find one parent under the sheets. and it’s not even the same as before: she’d half expected you laying by yourself but not this time. it’s just logan.

considering logan is rarely home makes it all the more perplexing for the blue eyed kid.

she hums, climbing over logan who’s lying on his side. “where’s mummy?”

“mummy needed some ‘me time’,” logan grins, peeking through an eye as luna climbs under the sheets, nuzzling herself into his arms. “mummy is sleeping in the next room over.”

luna hums, nodding understandingly though concerned for her mother. she contemplates checking on you briefly, but the minute logan’s soft snores filled the empty room again, she knew she was stuck in place for the next couple of minutes until logan remembers that luna is here to wake you both up for breakfast.

so she sighs, closing her eyes and forcing herself into a slumber again to ignore her grumbling stomach. and because she hasn’t seen logan for 2 weeks, so this is kinda nice.

luna is awoken by the smell of pancakes and she knows instantly that you’ve finally rolled out of bed and mummy’s ‘me time’ is finally over. she scrambles out of logan’s arms, completely unaware of the deep slumber that her father has slipped into, interrupted by her thrashing around.

“mummy!” the girl screeches as she opens the door, stuffed koala locked between her arm and her body. “are those pancakes?”

“good morning, lulu,” you greet her, setting a plate down on the table. she greets you softly, wobbling over to you and tiptoeing when you press a kiss to the top of her head. “you slept with daddy?”

“i went in to wake him up,” she mutters, climbing onto the seat next to you, “then we fell asleep again.”

logan stumbles out of the room as well, hair a mess and eyes still half open. he merely glances at you, catching your eye as you both consider acting civilised in front of your child. though your argument is fresh in both of your heads, he greets you nonchalantly as he passes you on his way to the kitchen.

he didn’t even have to look at the table to know that you’d only prepared breakfast for yourself and luna.

“morning,” you find yourself greeting him back with a small smile to play the part in front of luna. you hunch over again and pat luna. “do you wanna go out and do something today, lulu? let’s have a girls’ day?”

she hums again, leaning forward to grab her utensils. “without daddy?”

you tilt your head. “daddy’s not a girl.”

you see luna purse her lips, furrowing her eyebrows as she considers your offer. logan is only going to be home for a week and a half, and she knows that. but you can’t physically stand the thought of staying at home with logan in the vicinity, your argument still leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

it’s just unfair that he was questioning your parenting decisions when he’s rarely here for luna the majority of the time. sure, you know how difficult it is for him to cope with the situation, always feeling like an absent father more often than not. but it’s not a good enough reason to question how you choose to deal with emergencies you deal with by yourself when he’s not home.

it’s not fair that he’d question your ability to be a parent to your sole child.

“okay,” luna shrugs with a smile. “can we go to build-a-bear?”

you smile and nod. “of course!”

it’s been 2 days since you’ve spoken to logan. both of you are running out of excuses to tell luna why you’re not sleeping in the same bed and why you’re practically ignoring one another.

acting civilised in front of the toddler seemed okay at first, until luna opened the door to the guest bedroom with a head tilt and questions on her lips.

“mummy, do you not love daddy anymore?”

you cannot begin to explain how fast you sat up and turned to the door with mirrored furrowed eyebrows and a head tilt. “luna, why would you ask me that?”

she shrugs with a frown, looking down at her feet. “did you fight?”

you sigh, closing your eyes. you always knew treating luna like a normal human being would bound to have it’s disadvantages. she’s a very well spoken 5-year-old, articulate and more spatially aware than you would like.

“mummy and daddy are just figuring something out,” you explain softly as she closes the door behind her and walks over to where you are. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t love him anymore. why would you say that?”

she climbs on the bed and settles herself on your lap, immediately nuzzling her face into your chest. “i’m just making sure. cause i still love daddy.”

“well, i still love daddy,” you grin, brushing her hair. “i’m just upset with him right now. like you with your friend in preschool, remember? but that doesn’t mean we won’t ever make up.”

luna hums throwing her head back with a grin. then she scrambles out of bed, koala stuffie still in her arms as she runs out of the room. “okay!”

“lulu, where are you going?”

she shrugs, tiptoeing as she opens the door to leave you. “it’s my playtime now.” she turns to you with a cheeky grin. “do you want to join me?”

you nod. “can i join you in a couple of minutes? mummy’s got some work to finish.”

she nods before she closes the door behind her. but while you think that she’s disappeared into the living room for playtime, she actually makes a sharp turn for the master bedroom to ask logan the same thing.

she opens the door, feigning sadness with her head hung low. she frowns as she looks at logan with puffed cheeks and sad eyes. “you still love mummy, don’t you?”

logan, who’d already been awake and on his phone, turns to his daughter with a bewildered expression. how long was he gone for that his daughter suddenly turned into some old woman stuck in a toddler’s body?

“what?”

her frown grows. “you don’t love mummy?”

“what?” logan throws his head back, putting his phone down. “of course i still love mummy! why would you think otherwise?”

she presses her lips together, squinting her eyes as she approaches logan slowly. “you and mummy have not dropped me off at uncle oscar’s to hang out without me,” she hums, keeping her gaze on logan. “you should hang out with mummy.”

logan hums, pressing his lips together. “soon, lulu. don’t you like spending time with us together at home?”

she climbs on the bed and hunches her back. she sighs exasperatedly and shrugs with her whole body before dropping her back on the bed. “you and mummy don’t even talk to each other.”

she tries probing logan for a confession like she did with you, clearly knowing the transparency that you share from spending everyday with her. logan, however, she’s constantly trying to figure out each time he spends at home with her. not to say that she doesn’t think she’s not close with her dad — because she is — it’s just a different dynamic.

“what if…” when logan continues to stare at her, she sighs softly. she sits up. “can you play tea party with me?”

he furrows his eyebrows, shocked by the sudden change in mood. “sure? but weren’t you going to ask me something?”

she shrugs, now climbing out of the bed. “nope.” she stands on her feet and looks at logan. “tea party?”

“of course!”

suddenly logan finds himself trying to squeeze into a chair that’s clearly too small for him, sipping on imaginary tea. his daughter sits opposite him and the stuffed koala between them. he finds a plastic tiara on his head as they sit in silence for the next minute or so.

a door opens and makes luna perk up and grin at logan, her green eyes piercing into his own. “we have a special guest.”

logan tilts his head. “do we?”

“yes!” luna throws her hands in the air with a giggle, watching you approach them with a soft smile. “mummy is finished with her work! she can join us for tea party now!”

you laugh, merely glancing at logan as you approach their little table. “do you want me to make actual tea, lulu? have you guys been drinking pretend tea this whole time?”

luna shrugs, running from the table to her play kitchen where her little kettle sits on top of the plastic stove. “yes. but i like pretend tea. daddy, though,” she glances at you with a small and playful smile before looking at logan, “maybe he wants big people tea.”

“daddy can make big people tea by himself,” you laugh.

she drops her smile. “but you should ask him.”

you force a smile to your face, stiffly turning over to your husband, hunched over as he plays with the koala’s ears. “do you?” he looks at you. “want big people tea?”

logan shrugs, leaving the koala alone as he hesitantly keeps eye contact with you. “maybe.”

before you could shoot back an answer, something about making it himself, luna perks up and stumbles into you. “i changed my mind, mummy. i want some tea, please.”

you gasp. “i thought you said i was a special guest!”

“oh!” you see the gears shift in luna’s head as she shyly looks over at logan with a shy grin, finger in her mouth. “daddy…”

“okay,” logan mutters, pushing himself off the plastic chair. “i’ll make tea.”

you hold back a laugh when he stands up, the plastic chair stuck around his hips as he struggles to pull it off himself. only then do you notice that luna’s forced him into another one of her pink tutu’s for the tea party.

“hey,” you poke luna’s stomach, prompting a soft giggle from the toddler, “how come only daddy gets the cute accessories?”

she gasps, eyes wide as she darts away from you. she sprints over to the small box in the corner of the room and practically jumps in to dig for something for you. “i’ve got a tiara for you too, mummy!”

she comes back with a couple of accessories while logan’s gone to make your family some tea. you hunch over for luna to put the tiara messily on your head, even giggling as she helps you put some fairy wings on.

logan comes back with the promised tea eventually, juggling a teapot in one hand with three pink little tea cups in the other. a set that logan had found somewhere during one of his races and he couldn’t resist not getting it for luna and her tea parties involving real drinks.

“thank you!” luna perks, smiling up at logan as he takes a seat. “you made tea for mummy too?”

“of course.”

she turns to you. “mummy, what do you–”

“thanks,” you say as you finally take a seat in one of the small chairs, unfortunately, next to logan.

“i brought sugar for your tea.”

you look down at the sugar packets now sitting in front of you on the table as luna pushes away all of her plastic sets of teapots and cups. you feel your chest warm up at the subtle gesture, smiling at him as he sets the little plastic table with everything in his hands. “thank you,” you find yourself whispering as he puts a cup in front of you.

“so lulu,” logan starts, “how has pre-school been?”

you see her green eyes sparkle, excited that logan’s asked about school. she’s got stories upon stories to tell him, starting with the friends she’s made lately and the fact that she’s gotten into her first fight with a friend (they eventually make up).

then she starts rambling about her karting races, giggling about how you never fail to take her every weekend and take her out for dessert afterwards.

luna forces your phone out of your pocket, making you pull pictures out of her in her race suit and pictures of her zooming past you during her races and practice. it forces you and logan closer slightly, and suddenly you realise what luna is doing.

it only took logan turning to you with crinkled eyes, giggling along with you when the picture of luna passed out in the back of the car with her mouth hung open pops up. you’ve been set up by your own toddler, conspiring to ensure that you and logan are making up sooner rather than later.

it’s almost genius. you barely even have the time to think where she’s gotten this sneaky trait from because she starts shaking you to show logan pictures you took of your short trip to your mother’s right before he came home.

“aw, lulu,” logan coos at the picture of her interacting with your parents’ dog, all cuddled up on the couch as she watches tv. “you like mika?”

“like mika?” you snort, “she loves mika. she forced the poor husky to sleep with her the entire 3 days we were there.”

without noticing, luna starts pulling back as you and logan finally find yourselves engaged in conversation about her. she silently takes her koala from the seat next to her, slowly walking over to the couch with her ipad hoping that you don’t notice her.

“and mika was okay with that?” logan laughs, throwing his head back. “she didn’t get mauled by a dog twice her size or something?”

you shake your head in amusement at his statement. “i guess not! mika was so fond of her. probably from the constant belly rubs that luna gave her upon arrival.”

logan hums, resting his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees as he leans into you. “we should get her a dog. someone to keep her company while you’re away for work, you know?”

“logan,” you huff, furrowing your eyebrows, “she’s enough work as it is. an additional mouth to feed would be too much for me.”

he purses his lips together. “she’s been asking for a dog forever though.” you suck in a deep breath, finding yourself ready to explain why your household does not require a dog. as if reading your mind, he waves his hand in the air. “actually, you’re right. we should wait until she’s a bit older.”

you smile at him, thankful that he immediately got where you were going with the conversation. you glance at your daughter, now swinging her feet in the air as she lies on her stomach on the couch, tapping away on her ipad. “by the way,” you whisper, “i think we just got bested by our toddler.”

he giggles along with you, scrunching his nose. “i know. she’s got a future in strategising, don’t you think?”

“definitely. i haven’t been outsmarted in a while until luna started growing up to be a menace.”

he sighs, smiling slightly at you. “i’m sorry for the other night. i didn’t mean to poke at you for your decision-making — i was just shocked. you have it hard enough being home alone with luna all the time. i shouldn’t have questioned you.”

you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it. “i’m sorry too. i was a tad defensive.”

luna glances over at both of you, grinning to herself before returning her attention to her youtube video. suddenly all is right in the world and she’s counting hours to your announcement that she is being sent to uncle oscar’s house to spend the day so you can hang out by yourself.

@33-81 @darleneslane @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @namgification @localwhoore

[drjholtzmann]

this is dreamling more than dead boy detectives but it's been in my head since reading issue #25 after s1 of sandman. so, now feels like a good time to release it into the world. i just want them all to get in each others way

(season of mists spoilers)

------------

It’s not often that Hob smokes. It’s an expensive habit, and secondhand smoke and all that. But it’s hardly going to kill him, so he’s usually got an ancient pack on hand somewhere. Handy, especially in situations like this. Not that there’s ever been a situation like this before but, well. You live long enough. 

He slips out into the beer garden of the pub, lighting up almost absent mindedly, the action still muscle memory. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip, “what the fuck. Dream, if you have bloody anything to do with this, I swear to god, Morpheus. What the fucking fuck.” He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the brickwork. Despite it all he huffs an exhausted laugh. Because sure. Of course. Yeah, why not. Of course this would happen. “Jesus Christ, Morpheus. Even if this isn’t you, bloody… fucking wish I could just ask.” It’s all said barely above a whisper. Just in case. Always just in case. He blindly ashes his cigarette and heaves out a heavy breath, “Lord above,” he scoffs, raising the cigarette to his lips again. 

“Hob?”

Hob startles, eyes snapping open, head knocking back sharply against the brick. “Fuck – ow – Dream?” He raises his free hand to rub the back of his head, wincing slightly. “That, uh… that worked better than expected.” 

“You were calling for me?”

“Yeah… sorta. I didn’t… think it worked like that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You did not. I had thought briefly of you.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Hob grins. “How come? You miss me already?”

Morpheus sends him a withering look. 

“I, um… dreamt of you. While ago. Was that – real?”

“It was.”

He nods, thumb nervously tapping the filter of his cigarette. “Uh huh. Figured. With the wine, and…” he trails off. The hollow feeling of that dream, or rather, of that waking coming back to him in full force. “You said some ominous shit. Then I said some ominous shit. Was that real, too?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. 

“Right. Don’t suppose you’ll explain that?” Morpheus remains silent. “Right. Course not. Things okay, though? Now? I mean,” he gestures to his friend, “you’re here. That must be good, yeah?”

“Yes. And no.”

“Great. Fab.”

“What I thought I was facing has… changed.”

“...’kay. Well, can I ask you a question?”

Morpheus pauses but, after a moment, nods.

“S’it got anything to do with the dead kids hanging out in my pub?”

“What?”

“Yeah, couple of boys who look like they should definitely be in school – about, oh, fifty years ago. At least.”

Morpheus’ eyes don’t actually widen in alarm, but there is something to that effect happening… not quite in his expression, but in his aura, perhaps. Hob gets the feeling that if he were a cat the fur along his spine would be standing on end. 

“So… it is related?” 

“Perhaps.”

“Definitely, then.” Hob takes a short puff of his cigarette. 

“Show me?” 

“Uh… I don’t know if they know that people can see them. I don’t know if people who aren’t me can see them, actually. So just, um…” the caution dies in his throat as he realises who it is he’s talking to. Morpheus will do what he will, Hob’s advice be damned. 

Dream draws close, peering in through the windowpane of the door back into the pub. “How do you know?”

“You get pretty good at feeling when things are off once you’ve been around the block six hundred years or so. Also, they walked in through the closed front door. As in, passed right through the solid wood and glass.”

“I see.”

“Why are they here?” 

“To sample your fine selection of craft beer, perhaps?”

“Oh, he’s joking,” Hob has joined his side in peering not-so-surreptitiously through the door. “‘Mortal plane’ here, not here-here.”

“Death must have been busy… It is not like her to leave a job unfinished without good reason.”

“Must’ve…? What the fuck could be so horrific that Death is being kept busy?”

Morpheus, beside him, is silent. Deadly still. And it tells Hob all he needs to know. 

“Dream,” he hisses, “what the fuck is this? What’s going on?”

There is a long pause. “I ought not to tell you.” Dream murmurs, still facing the glass panel of the door.

“And I ought not have two dead teenagers in my pub. All things relative.” 

“They are causing no harm.”

“I don’t doubt that. It’s you I’m worried about now.”

“Your concern is of no use. What I mean is that they are no poltergeists, not aggressive, there seems to be nothing demonic about them.”

“Which means… there are poltergeists and demons running about at the mo?”

“I told you, I ought not say. There are diplomatic proceedings to take place.”

“You get that that makes even less sense, yeah?”

Dream seems to, at last, with an almighty eye roll, give in. “Hell is closed,” he hisses, turning to face Hob directly. 

“Hell is closed.” Hob repeats back, dumbfounded. “And that means… The devils are all here?”

“Precisely.”

“But the boys… aren’t devils?”

“They are not.”

“Okay. That’s good news. And the devils?”

Dream shrugs, sharp and languid. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“Great. Okay. Less good. Very much less good. So, uh. What… do I do? Am I supposed to exorcise them? Because, I have to be honest – would really rather not do that.” 

“You are under no obligations.”

“Oh.” 

“They could not be here without Death’s knowledge or her say-so. She will come for them in time.”

“Oh.” Inexplicably, Hob’s heart sinks a little.

“They are not alive, Hob.” Dream says, looking him in the eye. “They cannot live forever as the dead.” 

“Hm. Yeah. S’pose.” He looks through the windowpane at the two boys, chatting animatedly at a corner table out of the way. “They’re just kids, though. Barely got a normal life.”

“You cannot save them, Hob.”

“Why not?”

“You cannot. They may not be destined for Hell, but that doesn’t mean they can stay amongst the living.” 

“Says who?”

“The universe. Death, herself.”

Hob smirks, tilting his head down a fraction to look up at Dream from under a quirked brow. “You know what I think of Death.”

And Hob catches the tension at the corner of Dream’s mouth that he knows, whatever he might say to the contrary, is a suppressed smile. 

“C’mon, what if I just help ‘em live a little? While they’re here?”

“Hob.”

“What?! Can’t a guy be nice?”

“I have meetings to attend to.”

“That’s not a no.” 

“I think it a poor choice to flaunt immortality in front of two who have died so young. I would caution against it.”

“Okay. Fuck, fair point. But they don’t have to know about me. They wouldn’t somehow know, right?”

“I would caution against it, Hob Gadling.”

[luvyeni]

p. bsf!sohee x fem!reader | warnings: voyeurism (?), blowjob, allusions to sex | words: 0.8k ~ (854) 💂‍♂️ㆍ₊⊹

request: sohee smut pleaseeee 🫶🏻?

authors note. here you go lovey🩵

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

living in the ages of various streaming services; you barely made it out to go the movies; opting to wait until it came on tv— avoiding spoilers on tiktok so you could peacefully watch it the comforts of your own home; you just really didn’t enjoy the inside movie theater— so imagine your surprise when your best friends basically kidnaped you to drag you to a random drive in movie theater.

“sohee are you serious?” you scoffed as you pulled into the almost empty theater, the other three cars probably containing couples who want to fuck or teens needing a place to get high— or both. “what?” he smiled. “i thought it would be fun.”

the teenager who probably wanted a job but didn’t want to do any work sat scrolling on his phone. “this place is like 100 years old, and i doubt that popcorn is any good.” you pointed. “don’t worry I got us covered.” he pointed to the back seat, a bag full of snacks and drinks. “just gotta tune the radio so we can hear the movie.” he said. “cheer up, it will be fun.”

you decided to give it a try and not be so pessimistic— grabbing a blanket to cover yourself, grabbing some chips and a beer. “you know, most people don’t come to these things.” sohee said; munching on some chips. “yeah.” you laugh. “as you can see these three cars here besides ours and that car has been rocking for the past 20 minutes and there’s smoke coming out that one.” you pointed it out. “and i think that one is abandoned.”

he look around pouting; he really wanted to try something new with you. “don’t be too upset, you know i don’t like these types of things, but this isn’t all that bad so i give you props.” you reached over, pinching his cheek. “good job.” he smiled, stuffing his face some more with his favorite trip.

a few more minutes past of watching the movie when you heard a loud moan. “oh my god.” you let out a snort. “told you.” you turned to your friend, who’s neck was now red. “aw is our little sohee getting excited hearing the couples have sex.” he scratched the back of his neck. “sh-shut up.” You laughed. “you are!” you exclaimed, he whined covering his face. “is that why you invited me out here to live out you voyeur fantasies, pervert.”

sohee felt himself chub up in his pants, your words along with the moaning was doing unimaginable things to him. “it is hot, isn’t it?” you said. “he seems to really be giving it to her.” you smirked, seeing his hand come up to cover his hard on. “y-yn.” you placed your hand on his knee. “please don’t.”

“you don’t want me to touch you?” you tilted your head teasingly. “the movie still has 30 minutes left, are you gonna sit there palming your cock to the couple fucking next to us or are you gonna let me suck you off?” he moved his hand, heavily breathing; he couldn’t believe his best friend was about to suck him off. “lift your hips up.”

he lifted his hips, letting you pull out his cock, his tip dark red, dripping with pre-cum. “shit, hearing them fuck made you this hard, you really are a little perv aren’t you?” he let out a loud whimper as your hand wrapping around his length. “its kind of pathetic.” You squeezed his cock. “oh fuck! please don’t do that.” he moaned out.

“why?” you pouted, leaning over;;kissing his tip. “you gonna cum just from me squeezing your cock.” you squeezed it again, gripped the arm of the chair. “really pathetic hee.”

you finally put the boy out his misery, putting his cock into your mouth. “fu-fuck.” he moaned. “yo-your mouth is.” he gasped, unable to speak barely as you bobbed your head, jerking off what you couldn’t speak. “oh fuck your so good.” his head was thrown back, his hand coming to your head softly, caressing it. “sh-shit.”

it was messy, the noises from your mouth as you gagged on his cock will fuel him with jerk off material for mouth. “fuck yn im gonna cum, please get of.” you pulled off of him, looking at him in the eyes, stroking his cock. “come on hee, look at me.” you purred, the boy forced himself to look at you. “good boy.”

“come on cum for me, want you to cum in my mouth.” you put your mouth on his tip, sucking as you stroked the rest of his cock. “shit im cumming.” His hand slapped against the window. “ngh fuck!” he shouted, his cum spurting from his cock, hitting your tongue. “shit.”

you let him finish, pull off of him, swallowing his sticky substance. “yo-you didn’t have to.” but you weren’t listening, taking off your shirt, climbing into his lap, feeling his cock twitch against your clothed cunt. “just pay me back.” you kissed him. “h-how.”

“theres still 20 minutes left, let’s see how many times your cock can make me cum.”

©️LUVYENI

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your area 7

masterpost

Chapter 7 

…Jason slowly put down the book and turned it cover up, shell-shocked from that interaction. He lifted his phone and took a photo. He sent it to Roy. 

“What do you see?” He typed. Jason bit his lower lip and tried not to scowl while he waited for a response. 

It wasn’t that Jason was unused to conflict. Jason was great at conflict. He won every conflict! (Almost.) But what the hell had this shit been? Why had that guy been so pissy about the book? What the hell was wrong with the book that Jason didn’t see?

“Gibberish?” Roy texted back a few minutes later. “It gives the impression of wonky Cyrillic to me. But it's got a terrible energy to it. The hell is that?”

Jason looked at the cover. To his eyes, there was a serif font declaring it Sense and Sensibility Universe D version 5. 

“Thanks,” he sent, ignoring the question and then the barrage of heart emojis. Shit, okay. 

That answered one question. But it didn't answer enough. What the fuck had that college kid been seeing that was so offensive? 

‘And why'd he think we would meet again?’ 

Jason pushed deep, deep down any awareness that he hoped it was true. That had been weird enough that it would bother him forever if he didn’t get answers.

He sort of hated the idea of getting his nosy family involved, but they would ask different and in some ways, less annoying questions than other groups he could poll. They'd know not to lie to him, at least. So he sent the picture on to the family group chat with the same question and grimly finished his tea. 

The elderly proprietor came out then and noticed that her other customer was gone. She looked confused for a moment, scanning the seat to see if his book bag was still there. She picked up the cash he'd left on the table and then started stacking dishes.

‘He’s a regular,’ Jason guessed, honing in on the opportunity to learn more. He flipped the book open but held the apparently offensive cover down towards the table, out of her line of sight. He needed to know what had gone so wrong. Jason wasn’t normally the kind of person that cute college kids had beef with.

He'd never been in this café before, his intuition had just told him to duck inside.

“I think he forgot something,” Jason offered casually, pretending to just look up from his book. “Ran out real quick in a panic.” 

The lady let out a soft “Ahhh,” of comprehension. “Something for his afternoon class, perhaps,” she agreed, looking a little happier. 

“Yeah, it looked like he was getting ready to settle in for a long study session and then he bolted,” Jason lied, watching her underneath his lashes. He had been paying a little more attention than he ought to when the guy came in. He was Jason’s type, aside from the thing where he’d hated Jason’s face for no apparent reason-

‘No, actually, everyone I’ve ever been into hated me on sight.’

Ouch. As Jason digested that embarrassing truth, the owner continued talking.

“He does that,” she agreed, apparently not thinking it was odd at all for them to talk about the habits of another customer. “Tuesdays and Thursdays. He's a sharp cookie, did you know that?” She continued, and oh, she had halfway adopted this college kid, huh? There was warmth and a hint of pride in her tone.

Jason valiantly swallowed the snort. “He looks familiar, but I don't think we have classes together,” he fished. 

“Mm, he's doing some kind of math and engineering,” the lady helpfully supplied. She gave Jason her full attention as she stood up from the table. “And you?”

“Modern language and literature,” Jason said, and sort of wished it was true. He didn't really have the time. Did he? Spoiler was a full-time student, wasn't she? …Huh.

While he chewed that over, the lady had drifted a couple steps closer.

“...Those are two meaningfully different courses?” 

“Modern language is learning additional languages, I'm doing Russian and Greek right now,” Jason lied easily. He was fluent in both already. “Literature is mostly classics, for my purposes. I'm focusing on Regency Lit.” 

She looked very interested, but she detoured away to deposit the dirty dishes behind the counter. They kept up a light conversation about books as she wiped off the table and reset for the next customer. 

When she left, he finally had the chance to check his messages. There was a full-on fight in the group chat. The last message was from Stephanie. She had tagged him and asked, “Is this an optical illusion??? Like that dress?”

Ah, fuck. Jason felt a rock settle in his stomach at the confirmation that something hinky was going on.

‘I can’t read this in public if it’s saying something I can’t control or even know.’

Fucking hell. Jason scrolled back up and checked. Damian listed the correct title. Dick saw what, ‘I thought was Greek at first.’ Stephanie might have been joking but she argued vigorously that it was pictographs that started with a bird. Drake had sent “You rediscovered Minoan Linear A? Cool.” and then not participated in any follow-up discussions. Duke had sent only a stream of confused and tearful emojis.

Cass had marked it read.

“Fair enough, I guess,” Jason muttered to himself. Resentfully he put the book back in his bag. 

What had that guy seen? If he’d just seen something foreign but illegible he wouldn’t have gotten so pissy about it. And who the hell had he been, anyway? Why was he so special?

Well. That was something to do with his afternoon. Jason paid up his bill and gave Phyllis his well-wishes for her doctor’s appointment tomorrow on the way out. Phyllis was a good contact, he would definitely come back for more of her jasmine tea no matter how mad that guy got at him.

…Jason really needed a name.

And found…

He headed to Gotham University and used the student computers to look up departments and then hack into the registrar. Jason flipped through photos until he found his guy: Danny Fenton, 19, sophomore double-major in the Engineering department. Good grades, no notes on his account about academic dishonesty or conflict.

'Little weird to meet two Dannys in a 24 hour period.'

Jason searched the guy online and found…

He let his mouth drop open in disbelief at the batshit insane website design he had stumbled into. The Fenton family had a website, apparently, and they had maybe let a 7 year old design it in 2008. The colors… The lack of centering… The.. the neon choices.

His eyes watered. It took a while to fight down his aesthetic grief and actually start comprehending the text.

He had expected this to be like, an online family newsletter. And it was! The link he had followed detailed “Danno going to college in the big city!!!” The boy himself looked extremely resigned in the attached photo. Seriously, Jason had seen much less mortified mugshots. The thing was, that on the same page, alongside posts about other kids going college (Jazzypants!) and someone called Alicia recovering from “supergout!” with "her eight favorite toes remaining!!!", there was also a lot of mention of ghosts.

Like, a lot.

Jason scrolled in pained disbelief. There were photos that showed extremely weird and dismayed green people obviously flinching away from a camera. A beautiful green woman with her hair halfway over her face snarled through a flood of smoke under the title “Wishywish Ghostie Interviewed: Learn what drives her generous heart!” and an ugly robot motherfucker was seen fleeing under the caption, “Skalker indicates that spook is a GHOST SLUR!”

….Was it a shit post? Just one long shitpost? It had to be a joke site.

Well. No. Jason buried his face in his hands and came to terms with the horrible fact that not only were ghosts real, he was accidentally married to one and this bombastic midwestern family already knew about it. This was his best lead for getting that 'beyond death do you part' separation.

They had been blasting the existence of ghosts for all the world to read, and it hadn’t been news. The Justice League didn’t know about this whole society. The journalism done by– Jason lifted his head to check– Jack Fenton interviewing clearly very unwilling ghosts was the only primary source that he knew of. 

He took a few deep breaths. He came to terms with grief. He decided to block his family from any further involvement in this shitshow, for what remained of his dignity. And he grimly noted down Jack Fenton’s email.

Jason cleared this history and closed down his tabs, feeling a decade older than he had when he had entered the library. He ignored the sultry ‘come talk to me’ eye contact that the student worker was shooting him from behind the counter as he slouched out. 

He stopped for a moment on top of the stairs to watch campus move. He saw the theatre building and the modern language headquarters from his vantage point, along with about half of the student center. There was just a trickle of foot traffic between buildings along paved paths. A few people were hanging out on blankets in the grass. An old man in a suit was taking a phone call next to a crawling rose garden. 

‘Maybe I should go to school.’

Well. After this shit was sorted out. Obviously he could not go to school before he got divorced. It would be torturous to hang out with cute boys his age and be committed to some hot dead mermaid who didn’t even wanna make out with him sloppy. Loser shit on absolutely every level, goddamn.

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets and jogged down the stairs. He kept an eye out for Danny, but had no luck.  

Not that he cared. It was interesting that he had a lead: Danny clearly had some connection to ghosts, and he had been able to read… 

‘Maybe he realized it was a ghost’s property and he thought I stole it?’ Jason realized in a stroke of inspiration. That made more sense. If he knew enough to recognize it as ghost language or whatever, then he might have felt affronted about Jason having it.

He went through his mental checklist to pick out what he did and didn’t know. Once he felt he had a hang on his priorities, he beelined to his own laptop in his favorite safehouse and started looking into the Fentons in more depth.

It was a great lead. It was suspiciously good, in fact, he thought as he found Jack Fenton’s online family newsletter again. What were the odds that he would run into Danny Fenton in a cafe that Jason had never even been in before? It had been a total fluke that he’d entered. He’d been walking past to a favorite place and then just had the urge to try the dark little family cafe.

‘…Ah, fuck’, Jason sighed. More ghost shit. It had to be. Something about Danny Fenton’s ghost shit had registered to him now that he’d been exposed to ghost central.

[in1-nutshell]

Hey again! How about we get some more old Predacon buddy maybe during their times in the pits? Or possibly when Optimus or any other Autobot finds a few videos of Predacon buddy in their prime (lol prime) during their time in the pits and they just are shocked to see how violent and possibly terrifying? They were back then or possibly (you can choose either or of these) some of old Predacon buddy interacting with Megatronus and soundwave back then

The children are about to get a glimpse of their grandparent in their youth.

Will they like it?

or Not?

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon's fight video get seen by Optimus Prime, Wheeljack, Bulkhead, and Ultra Magnus

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

The team had stumbled upon a case full of old videos from their latest scouting mission.

Some of the videos held key information on some of the relics they were searching for.

Others held more miscellaneous things that could be used when the time was right.

Then there was a pack of near pristine set of videos full of gladiator fights.

Miko wanted to see them.

Obviously, there was a lot of push back on this from the team.

These fights were not for the faint of heart after all.

But it wasn’t until Miko mentioned that she wanted to see the difference between the gladiator fights on Cybertron versus the ones on Earth that they agreed to put on one video.

This was also conveniently the same time Buddy had left the base to go fly for a bit.

Miko chose one at random and played it on the projector.

The fight was brutal.

At one point it wasn’t even a fair fight.

One of the opponents was so brutal that there were several times that the bots had to cover the kids’ eyes.

The opponent looked a little familiar too…

It wasn’t until the opponent flashed their monstrous wings and roar, that they realized it was a young Buddy.

…

Buddy was going to have to explain some things when they got back from flying.

Team that is rather impressed by Buddy’s strength

This team is reserved for those who are just stunned by Young Buddy’s power over an opponent near triple their size. They took them down in less than 5 minutes! And without flying or having to even use their alt mode! They already knew Buddy was strong, they were one of the strongest members on Team Prime after all. But seeing the video, they can’t help but try to imagine Buddy with even more power at the near flex of their digits. There is an increase in respect for the old Predacon.

Optimus Prime

Ultra Magnus

Bulkhead

Wheeljack

Team that is slightly scared of Buddy

This team is reserved for those who now have an underlying fear of Buddy if they didn’t already have one to begin with. It is hard for them to see sweet, old Buddy being a scary monster in the arena when they were younger. They have heard the stories about Buddy winning so many fights and eventually buying their own freedom, but seeing a match like this puts things into perspective. It took Buddy a long time to get their freedom and if the average match was less than 5 minutes… how many opponents did Buddy defeat before freedom? There will be a bit of tension between them and Buddy, but it will not last long.

Bulkhead

Ultra Magnus

Wheeljack

Team that wants to try and replicate Buddy’s moves from the video

This team is reserved for those who took one look at the video and second thought that came to mind was ‘Yeah I can do that too’. These bots will look over the video and any other video of Buddy’s gladiator fights and attempt to recreate it or perfect it. Spoiler: They end up in the med bay a couple of times for doing them wrong.

Wheeljack

Bulkhead

[megthemewlingquim]

Morpheus scolding a "yn" close friend or loved one for pulling an academic all-nighter.

time flies.

Summary: You've worked all night, doing a task for The Dreaming. Morpheus finds you at your desk at an ungodly hour.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: I will not be writing any huge spoilers; I have read the entire Sandman series from start to finish, but I will not give away anything that you don't already know (assuming you've seen Season 1).

It's a dark but peaceful night outside of Dream's castle. The sky is a very dark blue, starless but still lovely. The air about the Dreaming is a gentle breeze, and it's warm outside, as if summer is in full swing.

Morpheus is in a pleasant mood, it seems.

The castle itself, towering over everything else within the Dreaming, is a beautiful structure. The lights inside are a strong gold color, and they cut through the dark.

You've been in the Library of Dreams for a long while, working tirelessly on a task that Lucienne had given you. You're her apprentice — currently studying and remembering some of the titles in the Library.

A large, leather bound book sits open on your table. Next to you stand tall bookshelves, filled with countless books of numerous sizes and colors. You write in this book in front of you, filling out names of mortal authors from long ago and the books they never wrote.

G.K Chesterton.... A.A Milne.... Edgar Allan Poe... William Shakespeare...

"What're yeh doing still here?" asks a gruff voice behind you.

You turn around in your chair and see Merv Pumpkinhead, a sentient jack-o-lantern pumpkin dressed in scarecrow clothes, smoking a cigar. His eyes, for once, are not narrowed — instead, they are open in concern.

"Ah, hi, Merv," you say sleepily. "I'm... writing things down. Lucienne wanted me to study things."

"Yeah, uh, that was a couple hours ago," Merv says. He puffs at his cigar. "Maybe you should get some sleep, huh? Lucienne wouldn't want you to stay up so late. And neither would the Boss Man."

You smile at that. Morpheus.

"What do you think he's doing? Does he need sleep?"

"Who? Boss Man? I dunno, kid. I've never seen him sleep, if that helps your question. But I know you need sleep. That book will be there when you wake up tomorrow." Merv pauses, then continues, awkwardly, "Er, hopefully, it will. Sometimes things are... eaten... by whatever apparitions decide to wander the halls here, late at night..." Quickly, he perks up again. "But! I'm sure it'll be here when you get back here tomorrow morning?"

"It's alright, Merv," you mumble with a smile. "I'll go to bed. I just want to finish a couple more of these, try to rack my brain for any others I might've missed."

Merv sighs. "Alright, kiddo. Suit yourself. I'll leave you be. Just be sure to get some sleep, alright?"

"Alright," you grin. "G'night, Merv."

"Night." Merv takes his leave of you, the only evidence he was ever there is some cigar smoke still lingering in the library.

You turn back around and get back to work. All is silent in the Library, aside from the sound of your pen scratching the paper.

Christopher Marlowe... Jane Austen... J.R.R Tolkien... C.S Lewis...

Your eyes are glued to the paper, your mind racing. You're writing as fast as your mind can think, testing yourself with how many names you can remember.

Suddenly, your mind blanks. Your hand hovers over the paper, the pen in hand. You furrow your brow for a minute, your lips moving soundlessly in an attempt to go over each author you've written down.

You get to St. John the Divine of Patmos when the candle lights flicker all at once, dimming for a time and then coming back up to their full strength. Looking up, you hear another voice speak:

What are you doing here, at this hour?

Morpheus — Dream of the Endless — is standing beside you, looking down at your work, a hand on the chair you're sitting in. His voice is so soft, it doesn't startle you.

"I was... working."

Morpheus blinks. You're exhausted.

"Am I?" you say, trying to shrug off the tiredness that hangs on you. "What time is it?"

It's late, says Dream. Time has no meaning for him. Everyone else is asleep. Mervyn, Matthew, Cain and Abel... even poor Lucienne.

You think on this. If even Lucienne is asleep, it really is an ungodly hour...

What are you working on? Dream asks. What are you writing?

Wordlessly, you show the book to him. He reads over it, and his brow furrows.

You're awake... over this? Dream crouches down to and faces you, his starry eyes filled with worry. You poor thing. This is not needed. Did Lucienne ever check up on you?

"No," you say, truthfully. "But, I know why. She was too busy with the census. That's alright though, I don't mind being here. It's relaxing." You perk up. "But... Merv came to see me, just a few minutes ago."

The tiniest hint of a smile comes up over his face. Indeed? What did he say to you?

"That I should go to bed," you say.

And he was absolutely right. I think this can wait, don't you? Dream gestures with a perfectly manicured hand towards the huge leather book. Then, he lowers his hand and places it on your own.

I miss you, my love, he says gently, his voice now laced with longing. Come to bed.

How could you say no to that?

[nalyra-dreaming]

COMMENTS on 2x04 - SPOILERS ahead, obviously^^

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

God that play is really…. and to see the joy just leave Claudia

And the foreshadowing with her soul leaving her body!!!!!! Holy shit.

Louis’ face mirroring the disillusionment.

Lol, Santiago getting a BJ while getting ready and bitching about the play. 💀

Armand and Louis in Dubai saying different things about that time…

Armand’s notes threw😬 me - and to call her lack of enjoyment of this play after 500 performances sabotage? Definitely a choice.

Ah, I see that is where that Santiago outfit comes in^^ - I would not have expected it to be Claudia there. I so feel for her there, it is so bitter. And Santiago having her back there and challenging Armand (and his relationship with Louis) damn. Also, Louis being so… IDK. Happy to ignore the warning signs now??? Ouch.

The coven going at each other, lol

That discussion “after”. And Louis’ “inner Lestat” commenting on it all - bitter

“Do you notice how hot the room gets”!!!!! FUCK

“I try to find the vulnerability in the object.” DAMN

The laughter. And Louis calling himself out there lmao.

They didn’t like Daniel changing track that’s for sure^^.

Santiago and Claudia 😭 - god I wished. And his warning her… damn.

Oh…. so THAT is where the “tender” comes in. Ouch again.

Madeleine and Claudia

The mimicry at the banquet. Ohhhhh it’s going to go SO BAD

But it’s nice to see that when Louis snaps… he snaps^^. Canon, baby, canon.

I felt so bad for him at the photography evaluation…

The fragility comment re Armand.

The photographs mixed in!!!! Holy shit. What is going on there - has been going on there????

“This is a Stein”. LOL Armand… “Probably Rashid”. Yeah, sure.

The body in the plastic!!!! Oh we are going full horror next episode, aren’t we.

Louis letting his “inner Lestat” criticize him. Aw sweetie. “I end up eating them”…. yeah.

The laughter again. And ”Lestat” mocking Armand as being “barely Balthasar”. 💀 Oh Louis. (I do feel bad for Armand. He wants love so badly.)

Madeleine’s story. One of many I would think. I … liked how they did it.

The Louvre.

“Vintage Lioncourt” - and then his “inner Lestat”!!! That expression, lol. And also the “ha” later… that is interesting.

In sync. “Okay” Argh.

HOLY SHIT! I KNEW THEY WOULD GO FULL IN AND DARK. AND THEY ARE 😵‍💫 OHHHH DAMN.

The coven abandoned by Magnus(??). And “Lestat” shaking his head.” Interesting.

I ALMOST thought we would get a Memnoch-type event!!!!! Damn, I wanted them to go there :))))

Armand threatening Claudia -.- . And letting her know. Talk about making things clear.

The thing about Santiago’s maker again...

Practicing the fire gift I see. Ah yisssss. *rubs hands*

“manipulative gremlin” LOOOOOLLLL LOUIS HOLY SHIT

God that scene with Claudia. Me and you, indeed.

“Bad decisions”. “Love makes you stupid”. “The wilderness that is our daughter”. 😭😭😭😭

Louis trying to say goodbye to Lestat there… heartbreaking. “An elicit couple out for the cheat”. Yeah. No double meaning at all. NONE. Their theme.The initials stitched in. Letting the rain pour down. Summoning Armand. “Mutiny brewing”. 😭 God Louis, why didn’t you just leave. “I used to be real good at running things”. Louis geeeeeeeeezzzzzz you are playing with FIRE. (Yes, I know, foreshadowing.)

And Santiago and the others using that moment to get the evidence they “need”. 💀

“You sure about that, Arun?” “Yes, Maitre.” Ohhhhh fuck. So fucking dangerous. “He is Louis’ creature indeed.” DAMN. Louis dammit you beeeeep Sorry, but honestly, that was… STUPID. You make your only protection look WEAK.

And them arguing in the bedroom. Louis probably having done that himself??!?!!!

Daniel using the time to go through the material - and remember. Oh the FORESHADOWING

And cut.

So in total:

Loved it, lots of very bitter foreshadowing once more. Loved all the little flashback hints. Knowing where the “tender” as a description for them comes from is… 😬. Louis trying to let Lestat go - I KNEW that would be a breakup scene, but I had guessed it would be another one that came later in the book^^, loved this change though. Unfortunately we already know it won’t quite work… Louis deciding to (try to) let Lestat go (which we know won’t work), and trying to take the “bull by its horns”… god. I mean. I get him. But that made my teeth hurt I clenched them so hard because that is literally… like, I said it above, but ARMAND calling HIM “maitre”? When the coven is already plotting? Oh boy. Not good in the long run. Not good.

So yeah. Loved it. So much in it!!!

And... my heart breaks for Armand.

__

And the EPISODE INSIDER. Spelling it out once more: (A gag order definitely dropped away^^)

“Lestat is just ruining Armand’s and Louis’ romantic evenings together.”

“He almost takes on the Lestat role in his relationship with Armand.” 😬

“Louis’ relationship is a response to his relationship with Lestat.” “Armand is a rebound. A rebound that lasts for 70 to 80 years.” 💀

“I think Louis knows he can get away with more.” “Like Armand is maybe a bit of a pushover. He realizes he can manipulate that relationship a little bit more.” (LOOOOOOL JACOB)

“Ghost Lestat [] is also like Louis’ doubts about Armand.” “He tries to accept Armand the way he is.”

“Armand will always see a little bit of Lestat in Louis.” “His paranoia is all encompassing.”(!!!!)

“It’s this really sad aspect of his life.” (indeed.)

And last, but not least:

“But it’s also seeing Louis slip faster with Armand than she had planned.”(!!)

HOLY SHIT. 💀

[rubyredridinghood]

JJK Characters and Their Piercings/Tattoos

SFW✅ CONTENT!! 18+ blogs please dni ^^ TW: Mentions of needles, some spoilers, not proofread lol

SATORU GOJO

•Standard ear piercing but usually nothing extravagant

•Unironically has the cross dangly because he thought it would be funny but never wears it

•Mostly diamond studs or silver

•100% GOT A NOSE STUD IN HIGH SCHOOL

•He thought it would attract more attention from the ladies (as if he needed anymore) and of course it worked

•Also has his belly button pierced and I stand firm on that belief

•Likes to flaunt it on the beach and often keeps his shirts unbuttoned in unprofessional gatherings

•Often matches the nose stud and belly button ring and has drawers full of them

• Has a tattoo on his hip of a black beta fish (yeah🥲)

•Speaking of which, he has a small one on the back of his neck of a crescent moon

•He got matching ones with Geto right before *the incident* in high school to celebrate Suguru’s 18th, Geto has the sun

•Covers it with foundation all the time when he’s in public

•Has a tattoo on his upper arm of a doodle Megumi drew when he was little

•It was the first thing Megumi ever drew and showed him (It was literally just him and Tsumiki as stick figures) and he cried

•Has a pretty high pain tolerance so he mostly did well with the process, but the hip tattoo hurt like hell for him and they basically had to pin him to the table to keep him still

•Made Shoko come to his appointments for moral support

CHOSO

•Standard ear piercings

•Usually just sticks to silver or black studs because he’s afraid of being judged :< •With a little push he might wear small hoops occasionally

• Vertical labret piercing (middle of lip) only wears hoops

•Does not do well with needles (shockingly), so he cried the first time he got body mods done

•Got his ears pierced at Claire’s and held the teddy bear

•Has only one tattoo along his left forearm with the names of his brothers written out in kanji (including Yuji)

•Also cried during the tattooing process

•He’s just a pretty princess he can’t help it😞

•Has a rotation of like 5 different pairs of earrings and lip rings because he likes to keep things simple

•Really wants to get an eyebrow piercing but chickens out every time

SUGURU GETO

•Gauges (duh)

•Started stretching his ears in early high school after he got tired of normal earrings

•Used to sit in agony in class whenever it was time to move up the taper size

•Got his septum pierced but decided he didn’t like it a few months later

•After high school (betraying everyone lol), he started by getting industrials

•Tongue piercing came next, has all kinds of fun tongue rings for funsies

•Tongue was super puffy after getting it done, Mimiko and Nanako had to speak for him for a couple weeks while he expressed his throughs through grunts of frustration

•Has the universally headcannoned back tattoo of a dragon

•Has the sun tattoo on his nape to match Gojo’s moon

•Covers it with his hair obvi but sometimes looks at it in the mirror when he’s feeling lonely

•Left arm is a complete sleeve filled with various details such as red spider lilies, various geometric patterns, and names of his loved ones hidden throughout

•Simplistic patterns running up his fingers on both hands

•Did not budge during any of the procedures, however the intensity of many of his healing processes usually rendered him unable to do certain things, so he often required assistance afterwards, even while swearing up and down he didn’t (he almost fell down the stairs)

TOJI FUSHIGURO

•Definitely has the standard earlobe

•Used to have a nose stud but stopped wearing it

•Again nothing flashy but his wife and Tsumiki bought him hello kitty earrings and he will wear them proudly

•Has a simple tattoo down his neck of his wedding date in Roman numerals to Megumi’s momma (or you😘)

•Got it there because he tends to rub his neck when he’s stressed, so running his hands over the ink reminds him of his life’s blessings

•Also has Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s names behind both of his ears (screw canon can’t change my mind fr)

•Has one (1) on the knuckle of his wedding ring finger of a heart his wife drew

•Hides it under the ring because it embarrasses him to show other people but loves to look at it when he’s alone

•Pretends to be completely fine during his procedures but is gripping his wife’s hand for dear life and biting his lip until it bleeds

•She def laughs at him for it

•Hates needles with a passion and always dreads getting new ink done but it’s always worth it in the end

RYOMEN SUKUNA

•Canon tattoos lol

•Also canon that he has his ears pieced, but he definitely got everything possible done on both ears

•Has a ton of different earrings and chains that make his appearance more regal and scary

•Has his tongue split 100% •Had a super puffy face after that procedure, and Uraume had to had to hold back laughter while assisting him through his normal daily affairs

•Nobody could take him seriously for weeks

•But when it healed he was scary as all hell

•Bridge piercing 1000%

•Didn’t really react to his procedures, however if you look closely you might see him barely squint his eyes when the needle goes through

•Got permanent bracelets because he thought they looked cool

•Small gauges

•Doesn’t let anyone touch his tattoos or piercings unless he’s being bathed or with someone he loves (you pookie🥰)

•Partly because it’s lowk sensitive for him and he doesn’t like the feeling

•Forgets to take out his earrings when he sleeps and wakes up with weird marks all over the sides of his head

•Constantly losing earring backs

•Also drops earrings all the time because his hands are huge and steps on them with the needle side up

•Poor Sukuna

My first time posting detailed hcs! Hope you like it ^^

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 9,001 (yeah, she's a beast!) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria S9, post-Negan war, before the bridge Warnings: language (duh, it’s me), violence (no sexual violence), injuries to main character, blood, some kind of dark Saviors shit (not like line-up level dark but kinda fucked), mild angst, Protective!Daryl, hurt/comfort Summary: The war is over, but it isn't all peaches and cream. The Sanctuary struggles to function and Daryl and Y/N struggle with ghosts of their pasts after Rick asks them to take things over there. Deciding they've had enough, they decide to depart for Hilltop but Y/N stays behind for a couple days to help Carol get started taking over. The past comes back to rear its ugly head... A/N: This is an epilogue to the Sacrifice series, but you don't necessarily have to have read all 29 previous parts to appreciate it (though you def should!) [Spoilers (or reminders) for context start here -> -> -> The war is over, Y/N was once one of Negan's wives in order to protect her brother, she went back to Negan to break Daryl out of the Sanctuary, Daryl ends up shooting Negan to protect Y/N when a plan of theirs goes awry and the war ends, Y/N was also shot in the process but survived]

_ _ _ _ _ _

You and Daryl stood off to the side, watching the group of people gather around Rick, flooding the open space on the Sanctuary’s factory floor. You gently touched him on the arm and his blue eyes landed on your face. “Are you going to talk to him tonight?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I gotta. I can’t—we can’t stay here any longer. I dun want you here either. Bein’ in here, in these walls again, it feels like it’s slowly poisonin’ us…” He glanced at the fresh graffiti someone had sprayed on the wall. We’re still Negan. Saviors Save Us

Your hand slipped down his forearm and you laced your fingers with his. “I know. It’s the right decision.”

“Yeah,” he mused. “Ain’t sure Rick’s gonna agree though…”

“Rick isn’t the one here dealing with all these people, reliving everything every day. It’s too much,” you said. Daryl nodded in agreement.

“Yeah…” Just then, Rick finished talking to the gathered group and there was a smattering of applause and murmuring. You gave Daryl’s hand a gentle squeeze as Rick wandered over. “Good luck,” you murmured.

Soon, various business that needed to be discussed was concluded and the already dim torch and lantern lights on the Sanctuary factory floor were all but put out. Daryl and Rick retreated up to the catwalk.

As they stood side-by-side, looking down at the shadowy, rundown building below them, Daryl sighed heavily and Rick could feel the tension between them. Rick broke the silence first. “So, what’s going on?” he asked.

Daryl gulped and straightened up, looking his friend in the eye. “I don't wanna be the one leadin’ these people anymore.”

Rick’s expression was impassive. “Okay... Why?”

“Bein' here, behind these walls again... It just don't feel right, man. I'm better out there. I always have been. And I’ve got Y/N to think about. After what happened to her in here—with him—”

Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Things happened to you in here too,” Rick said, perhaps realizing for the first time what he’d really asked of his friend, his brother…

“Yeah, well I care more about her than I care about myself. This is where her life was a livin’ fuckin’ nightmare. His wife…” he murmured under his breath. “She wasn’t his wife. She was his damn property. Her brother died here. He destroyed her group just like he destroyed ours. What d’ya think this place reminds both of us of?” He asked, turning sharp eyes to Rick. “Hmm? Did ya even think ‘bout that when ya asked me to come back here? Didya stop to think that ya might be askin’ us to relive some of the worst shit we’ve ever gone through?”

Rick hung his head for a moment, clasping his hands together. A wash of guilt and shame came over him. He hadn’t considered the full extent of it, no. But there was no one else to do the job and so he’d asked too much of Daryl, too much of you. “But you and Y/N have kept this place together. You’ve kept people in line here. We can't just let the Sanctuary fail after everything that's happened,” he said.

Daryl shook his head and paced a small, agitated circle. “Man, s’gonna fail anyway. Nothin’ grows here. It's a damn factory, man. Look, when Negan was around, he needed people to provide for him. It's still the same. Nothin's changed,” Daryl argued.

“It's different now. We give what we give willingly,” Rick retorted.

“And how long's that gonna last? Most of the bridges are out after the big storm. The highway's done. We've scavenged every drop of gas for miles. And we can't make enough corn fuel to run the cars or the trucks. Pretty soon, it's gonna be more than a day's ride from one spot to another.”

“Well, it's on us to figure out how to make it work,” Rick said, leaning forward on the rail again.

“Man, there ain't no ‘us’ anymore. Everyone's everywhere,” he pointed out. “I feel lucky that Y/N and I are even in the same damn place.” He let out another weighty sigh. “That small group we had back in the beginning... plus a few more of the people we picked up along the way, we could do anythin’. That was right. That’s what I know.” Daryl leaned forward beside Rick, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way.

“Well, you wanna come home to Alexandria, then?” Rick asked. “You and Y/N?”

Daryl shook his head. “No. We'll go back to Hilltop, check on Maggie and the baby.”

“Well, you go, someone's got to take your place here. Rosita and Eugene are headed to Oceanside next. Maggie's sending food, but not people, and Kingdom's got its own problems rebuilding after losing its fighters. If Alexandria sends another person out, I could use the help back home.”

Daryl only let out a small huff.

“We're not together because things have changed,” Rick said again.

Daryl stiffened. “Mm-hmm,” he hummed. His blue eyes turned to Rick again and they were intense. “The thing is, you changed ‘em, Rick.” The tension felt hot and pulsating in the air like liquid mercury. He patted his friend on the shoulder. “But I get it.” And then Daryl took his leave.

On the staircase, Carol backed away as quietly as she could, only to be startled by your voice softly behind her. “Well, that didn’t go great,” you whispered.

Carol turned to face you, her face drawn. “Daryl is right though. Rick shouldn’t have asked that of the two of you after—after everything you went through here. And he should have known Daryl would have a hard time saying no to him.”

You nodded and straightened up, stepping toward her. “Rick’s his brother,” you agreed. “And there really was no one else. But Daryl’s right. We can’t stay here anymore. It’s—it’s wearing him thin.”

“And you?” Carol asked, worried.

You gave her a tight smile and shrugged. But when you spoke again your voice broke. “I’d almost rather be anywhere else…”

Carol nodded knowingly and then grabbed you into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said. her mind drifted back to her own abuse at the hands of Ed and she felt a swell of affection for you and for Daryl, for both of you taking this on at all after everything… When she pulled back, she cleared her throat, pushing her emotion away. “I’ll—I’ll take over here a while. You and Daryl need to get out. I want to help.”

“Carol—”

“Don’t argue with me. My mind’s made up,” she said firmly.

You nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” you said. “I’m—I’m gonna go talk to Rick,” you said. “Make him understand.”

Carol nodded. “I’ll check on Daryl. Let him know what I’m thinking.”

“Okay. Good idea… Hey—Carol. This is—what you’re doing to help, it’s huge for us. So, thank you.”

She gave you a warm smile and you passed her on your way up the stairs to find Rick. He was still leaning heavily on the railing, clearly in deep thought over his discussion with Daryl. But he turned at the sound of your steps on the metal catwalk and straightened up when he saw you.

“Hey,” you greeted him stopping beside him and also looking down over the factory floor. No one was milling around anymore. Most people had drifted away to bed. “You okay?” you asked, giving him a knowing, sideways glance.

Rick laughed a little wryly and nodded. “Yeah… Just—tryin’ to figure out if and where I went wrong,” he said, clasping his hands together. “Things I’d do differently now…”

You nodded. “You have a lot of weight on your shoulders. Daryl knows that.”

Rick met your eyes again, clearly realizing you’d overhead their conversation somehow.

You straightened up and tilted your head toward the hallway down the catwalk. “Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Rick followed you as you stopped to grab a lantern and then led him down the hallway. This part of the building was mostly empty these days, except for a few people who had carved out some private spaces for themselves. The warm orange glow flickered past many doors and other halls before you turned right and came partially down the next corridor. The nauseous feeling and the heavy pit in your stomach grew as you walked, and before you knew it, your hand was trembling slightly holding the lantern. This place was full of ghosts.

Rick looked at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked. The tremble in your hand translated to a shakiness in the shadows cast by the light on the walls and it was easy to see.

“We’re almost there,” you said softly.

You walked in further silence for only another half a minute before you stopped in front of a gaping dark space in the wall, barely bigger than a closet. Rick gave you a questioning look and you lifted the lantern to illuminate it. The floor was filthy with layers of smeared dirt and who-knows what else. “This is where they held us. Me, when my brother and I were captured, and Negan singled me out from my group. And Daryl after the line-up with Alexandria.”

Rick stared at the dirty, dingy space and he could almost see Daryl huddled there in his mind’s eye, wearing that filthy sweatshirt. His brow furrowed and his face contorted.

You pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Your head felt a bit light and foggy. “I—I had the doors that used to be on the cells removed, because—I just couldn’t stand the sight of them closed up like that. I kept—kept imagining Daryl was still in there every time I had to walk past. Or that somehow, I was going to end up back in there.” You glanced over at Rick who was staring straight into the darkness. He watched as you raised your free hand to rub at your bad shoulder, the one Negan’s bullet had pierced. “They took all his clothes at first. Left him in there naked. Cold. Shot. Hungry. Wondering what happened to the rest of you. And the thirst… Then, Dwight humiliated him and they fed him dog food and blasted music to keep him awake. The same song, over and over. Then, they made him work outside in the heat and humidity in that filthy sweatsuit, chaining walkers to the fence for Negan or doing whatever awful chores they could invent. He had to clean up after Negan punished someone, mopping up shit or piss or worse… Dwight made him look at pictures of—of what happened to Glenn and Abraham.” Tears burned in your eyes and Rick’s shut and he dropped his head.

He lifted a hand to wave you off. “I—I understand,” he said in a low voice, his heart breaking. He’d been careless to ask Daryl to come here, too focused on his beautiful dream in the memory of Carl to realize what this would do to you and to Daryl.

“He didn’t want to say no to you when you asked him to come back here. You’re like a brother to him. He didn’t want to let you down even though—it’s literally the last place either of us wants to be.”

Rick sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin. “I don’t have an excuse… I—I shouldn’t have asked it. Of either of you… I just—I was tryin’ to make this all work.”

You nodded. “I know. So does Daryl. But that doesn’t mean that it hasn’t been… We’ve both been reliving our trauma having to be back here. And we’ve hit our limit. That’s all.”

Rick met your eyes again. You hadn’t even talked about yourself, about what you’d been through here in the cell and with Negan after, not really. You’d mainly focused on Daryl. But Rick could guess well enough what it would have been like for you being one of Negan’s wives and living in that constant fear for your brother and yourself, what you’d had to subject yourself to.

He glanced again at that dark space in the wall. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Carol said she’ll take over here for a while,” you said, turning away from the cell and starting back the way you came.

Rick looked surprised but nodded, walking along beside you.

“I’ll—I’ll stay a couple days to get her going here and up to speed. And then I’ll go meet Daryl in Hilltop.”

“Alright,” Rick nodded. “It’ll have to work for now. But I can’t help thinking it’s a patch on the issue and not a fix.”

You laughed wryly again. “Aren’t most things these days? Rick, Daryl wasn’t wrong about The Sanctuary. It’s a resource sink. It doesn’t produce anything. You’re still going to have to square with that one day. I get what you have been trying to do, making peace with the rest of The Saviors, and not all of them are guilty of the awful things that happened during the war. But things are still festering here under the surface.”

Rick looked over at you, concerned. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, about ready to part ways with him on the catwalk again. “You saw the graffiti. Negan might be dead but for some of them, it’s not over.” You gave him one last look. “Daryl and I know you have a lot on your plate, but it’s time for us to get the hell outta here. If we don’t… this place will consume us. We can’t move away from what happened while we’re here. It’s like—it’s like having it shoved down our throats every day.”

You took your leave from Rick then, leaving him again in deep thought. You knew where you could find Daryl, at a spot outside he liked to go where most people wouldn’t be able to disturb him. It happened to be someplace the two of you sometimes went to watch the stars. When you got there, stepping just one foot outside the building, you had to smile to yourself. Daryl and Carol were just sitting together, side-by-side, enjoying a moment after being apart for so long. You decided to leave them to it.

You made your way back to the room you and Daryl had claimed together in a different part of The Sanctuary. You hastily changed your clothes and got ready for bed, knowing he’d come find you there when he was ready. And it wasn’t long before he did, coming in to see you already cozied up in the bed you shared, reading a worn paperback.

You smiled as he came in. “Hi,” you said.

He stopped in the doorway and took you in, giving you a small smile back. “Hey. Sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” Daryl drawled, sinking down beside you on the mattress. “I was out sittin’ with Carol.”

“It’s alright. I know you were. I didn’t want to interrupt,” you said, reaching for a strand of his wavy hair and running your fingers down it gently. “You haven’t seen each other for a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling off his boots. “Get this. Ezekiel asked her to marry him,” he said, giving you a conspiratorial look.

You pushed yourself up on the palm of your hand. “Oh my God!” you burst out.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Well? What did she say?!”

“Ah… She ain’t ready yet,” Daryl explained.

“Wow.” You thought of Carol and Ezekiel together after the close call at the museum. They were good for each other. “Maybe someday?” you asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm.” His hand came to rest on the graceful curve of your neck. It was cool from the nighttime air. He leaned in and kissed you softly, pulling back just slightly to study the colors in your irises. “Listen—I told Rick—”

“Yeah, I know,” you interrupted him gently. “I could hear the two of you. And Carol talked to me too. She’s gonna take over here for a while.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. So, we can go. We dun have to be here anymore. Figured we can head to Hilltop tomorrow. Check on Maggie and Hershel.”

You nodded and then ducked your eyes. “I’m—I’m gonna stay here with Carol for just a couple more days. Help her get started and settled. Then I can meet you. I’ll take one of the horses.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. You could see that he was getting ready to argue.

“It’s just a few more days,” you whispered, gently grabbing onto the front of his vest. “It’s the least I can do since she’s doing this for us, leaving her family and world in The Kingdom.”

Daryl’s stomach churned a little, leaving him feeling slightly nauseous. “She’ll have Eugene,” he pointed out.

“Barely. He and Rosita are heading to Oceanside next to get the fishery going.”

Daryl sighed heavily and moved back to sit on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slightly slumped. He was chewing on his bottom lip. You knelt behind him and draped yourself against his back, looping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the curtain of his wavy hair, breathing him in and leaving a kiss on his neck. “It’s just a couple days,” you said again.

He gulped. He didn’t know why, but there was a pit in his stomach. “I dunno…” he mused aloud. “I dun like ya bein’ here without me. Here of all damn places.” His mind went back to that graffiti sprayed on the wall.

“I know. I don’t either. But I want to help Carol as a thank you. And then I’ll come straight to Hilltop.” You moved around to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. “Hey—Look at me,” you urged him. “I can handle myself. Or did you forget?” you teased him, bumping into his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know ya can handle yerself. It ain’t that… Somethin’ just—I dunno. Somethin’ dun feel righ’.”

You sighed and nodded knowingly. “It’s never felt right being here.”

“Yeah… maybe tha’s just it. I dunno,” he said finally, but you noted that he still looked slightly troubled. It had been a long day, and his talk with Rick was intense. He stood up and started getting ready to climb in bed with you. You watched the muscles in his back ripple, crisscrossed by his scars, as he pulled off his shirt. You crawled back beneath the sheets and waited until he slipped in beside you.

“C’mere,” he murmured softly to you as he settled into his pillow. You moved into him immediately and he pulled you against him. You tangled your legs with his and gazed into his bright blue eyes. He draped an arm over you and his hand moved to find the hem of your t-shirt before slipping underneath it and pressing against your bare skin, tracing absent patterns on your side, your hip, your back. Daryl leaned in and kissed you, one that was deep and full of wanting.

You felt a pooling of heat expanding in your chest as his lips moved to your neck. Daryl listened to your breathing hitch as he kissed your pulse point and grazed the shell of your ear. His hands wandered over the shape of you beneath the draping of your shirt. In no time, the two of you were completely lost in each other, melting into sensations and quiet gasps of pleasure, bounding hearts and heaving chests, skin on skin. Daryl’s fingers laced between yours, his other hand firm on your hip. Then, after you both reached your blissful highs, you fell asleep in his arms and neither of you woke until the sun was coming up.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You walked with Daryl to his bike and stood beside him as he strapped down his gear, giving him a smile when he looked up at you again.

“Are ya sure ‘bout this? Ya dun have to stay. Carol will be fine,” he said in a low voice. That pit in his stomach had returned almost immediately when he awoke and thought about separating from you.

You gently rested your hands on his sides, stepping in close. “Everything is going to be fine. Go help Maggie. Check on her and Hershel. I’ll see you soon. Okay?”

He looked worried, but nodded. “S’yer call. Two days,” he drawled.

You nodded. “Two days. I promise.”

“Alrigh’…” He leaned in and kissed you deeply, clasping your face and pressing his other hand into the small of your back to pull your body flush against his. You kissed him back heatedly and hungrily and sighed when you broke apart.

“Miss ya already,” he said, breaking contact with you and getting ready to climb onto his bike.

“Same,” you agreed, giving him a tight smile. “Love you,” you added, waiting until the last moment of separating to unlace your fingers from his.

He nodded and studied you, drinking in the view. “You too.”

Then, in a spray of gravel and a cloud of dust he was on his way. You didn’t see him glance back at you over his shoulder before he completely lost sight of The Sanctuary.

You found Carol already on the factory floor standing with Eugene, looking over whatever list of action items were on his clipboard that day. You were absently rubbing your bad shoulder as you came up. It had been aching since the day before. Had revisiting the cell stirred things up? Probably. Carol noticed immediately.

“You okay? Shoulder bothering you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Just a little. The old war wound acting up a bit,” you said with a wry laugh.

Eugene looked up from his clipboard. “I could potentially formulate a topical balm that may relieve some of your chronic pain symptoms, though most ingredients would not sufficiently penetrate the muscle in order to reach the origin of—”

You cut him off with a smile and a laugh. “It’s okay, Eugene. I’m fine. It’s not too bad. What do we need to tackle today?”

The three of you chatted briefly about what needed to be done urgently and then each picked your tasks to start with. Several hours later, you were nearly done trying to treat the small number of plants that were still surviving in the raised garden beds for some kind of insect pest when you were interrupted.

You turned at the sound of footsteps to see one of the Sanctuary residents approaching. You stood and dusted the soil from your gloves. “Hi. What’s up?”

“The guys getting that scrap metal from the upper floors found a water leak. Can you come take a look at it? We might be able to fix it, but we’d probably have to shut the water off completely for a while.”

You sighed heavily and pulled off your gloves. “Always something new, isn’t it?” you said dryly. “Yeah, I’ll come take a look now. Lead the way.”

You passed through the factory floor, noting that the graffiti discovered the day before had been freshly painted over as Daryl had demanded. Carol and Eugene were bent over a table in deep discussion over some new plan. Your stomach flipped as it always did as you passed the oven where Negan used to heat his iron or branding rods. You turned your eyes away.

Soon you were on the upper floors, walking through the dim hallways. It always felt eerily quiet up there. The resident you were following pointed ahead to the next doorway and then stopped to grab some work gloves from a pile of gear set in the hallway. You passed him and stopped in the doorway, expecting to see the group of other people working, but the room was empty. And there was no sign of a water leak. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. “Hey, are you sure this is—”

And then everything went black.

Carol was walking somewhat aimlessly back and forth across the factory floor, weaving through the supplies and little bunched groups of people. She craned her neck trying to see if she could spot you anywhere. The two of you had planned to meet for the evening meal after everyone was done for the day but Carol was suddenly realizing she hadn’t seen you since that morning.

Her stomach began to churn. She bolted toward outside where evening was beginning to fall. The garden beds cast long, deep shadows between them, but she didn’t find you crouched among them. The final place she checked was the room you shared with Daryl, now mainly bare of your items since the two of you had begun packing your belongings to leave. Daryl had already taken his few things away on his bike.

There was no sign of you.

Her heart started to pound. She’d questioned everyone she could think of as to your whereabouts. Where could you possibly be? An anxious thought flitted into her mind. Her stomach tightened into a fist. It wasn’t like you not to arrive somewhere you said you would…

The last thing to do was to search the rarely used upper floors. She knew a crew had been working up there earlier in the day, collecting and hauling scrap metal to be reused to patch the roof and fences. Perhaps something had come up and you were still up there assisting with a problem.

Her boots made a lonely, echoing sound as she rushed around corner after corner. There was a weighty silence and the farther up she wandered, the sicker she felt. Something was seriously wrong. She could feel it in her bones. She called your name out but it strangely didn’t seem to pierce the thick vapor of silence in front of her. Every step increased her heart rate and poured adrenaline into her bloodstream. She felt almost shaky as she loosened her knife in its sheath. Just in case, she thought. In case of what?

Another minute or two passed as she searched. Each moment felt excruciatingly long. And then all of a sudden, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God. Y/N!” Carol bolted toward the crumpled form halfway down the hall in front of her. “Oh, God…” The front of your shirt was soaked with blood and you were lying on the cold floor unconscious. Your face was bruised and swollen. There were cuts and smears of blood on your skin. But what held her attention horrifically was that whoever had done this to you had taken a knife and began to carve a word into your chest, just below your collar bone. SA and part of a V. Carol didn’t need to guess what they’d intended to spell. They were making a gruesome point. Her hands shook as they hovered over you for a moment. She said your name again and then gently clasped your face and gripped your arm. She jostled you a little. “Wake up. It’s Carol! Please, wake up!”

You began to stir a little and a grimace contorted your features.

“Oh, thank God,” Carol sighed, hanging her head in relief for a very brief moment before the nausea seemed to rise into her throat again at your condition. “Y/N? Open your eyes, hun!”

You let out a small pained noise and then your eyes did open blearily. You were immediately trying to sit up, pushing yourself up on the palms of your hands but your head felt split in two and your muscles felt rubbery and weak. “Fuck,” you murmured.

“Whoa—okay. Easy! Take it easy!”

You reached up and touched the back of your head. It was swollen with a lump and tender and your fingers came away slightly sticky. You looked down at them and registered the deep color of drying blood. Your chest burned. You looked down to see that the whole front of your shirt was stained crimson. Your body ached and panged with sharp pains. You could feel your heartbeat in your face.

“Is anything broken? Can you stand up?” Carol asked, her brow heavy over her eyes, but the light inside frantic and quickly turning furious.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” you said softly. Your jaw ached. You gave it an exploratory wiggle left and right and immediately regretted it. Your bottom lip was split and swollen. You winced again. “What the fuck?” you murmured. “I mean what the ever-loving, royal fuck?” you growled. The hot rage welling up in you was pushing some of the pain back.

“Let’s just get you up and off the floor, okay? Slowly.” Carol helped you to your feet. Your head swam and you squeezed your eyes shut, not letting go of her hands for a long moment until you felt steadier. Her expression said enough about what you must look like… “What happened? Do you know who did this to you?” she asked.

You shook your head a little, absently pressing a hand to the burning sensation on your chest, but you stopped as the burn surged when your palm landed flush on your skin. You took in a sharp intake of breath through your teeth. “No. Well—I saw one of them… they lured me up here. Told me there was a water leak they found while doing the scrapping and—and then someone hit me on the head from behind and I was knocked out. But I don’t know why. I mean, why me?”

Carol’s expression was taught. Anger swirled in her eyes. She knew exactly why. You couldn’t see it yet, but the word was partially carved into your chest. That graffiti on the wall out on the factory floor was just the tip of the iceberg. Things were rotting here just under the surface, and since you’d once been Negan’s wife, she imagined you were a perfect target for those who wanted to make a point. “Let me see the back of your head,” she said. There was a small split in the skin where you’d been struck, your hair stained rusty red, but she didn’t think you’d need stitches there and she was extremely relieved that it wasn’t worse... not much anyone could do from something like a skull fracture in the apocalypse. She sighed heavily as another flame of rage wicked upwards in her chest. “Okay… Let’s get you back to your room. Hold onto my arm. Can you make it?”

You nodded, gripping her to steady yourself on your shaky legs, and allowed her to lead you away. You glanced back over your shoulder and were sickened to see the smears of your blood shockingly deep red on the tile behind you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Carol had you sitting on the edge of your bed and she set down a first aid kit beside you. You were looking up at her from behind a wall of swelling and bruising on your face. You tenderly wiggled your jaw again, testing opening and closing your mouth. It felt ready to lock up. She could tell from the way you’d moved on the walk back and how you were slumped slightly forward now that there was probably substantial bruising beneath your clothes that she couldn’t see. Your movements were tentative and cautious.

You hadn’t looked in the mirror yet. You were afraid to. The pain was bad enough. The fogginess in your head was bad enough. You were worried if you saw the results of the beating, it would only make it worse, more real.

Carol began unpacking supplies. “Tell me everything you remember,” she said gently.

You shook your head. “Not much. Like I said, I was out working in the raised garden beds and somebody came up to me.”

“Who?” Carol pressed you. “If you don’t know their name, what did they look like?”

“Uhh… his name starts with a ‘G’ I think… Give me a second.” You filed through names in your head until you got the right one. “Graham. I think that’s it… He’s tall. Long black hair past his shoulders.”

“Okay,” Carol nodded, opening an alcohol swab. “What did he say exactly?”

“He asked if I could come look at a leak they found while they were moving all the scrap metal. He said they thought they could fix it but they’d have to turn the water off. I went to see and I was barely in the doorway of the room he pointed out. There wasn’t a water leak. I was just standing there, about to say something and—something hit the back of my head. I don’t really remember anything after that. Some foggy pain maybe but… mostly nothing.”

“Do you think there were others waiting up there? Or could it have just been him?” Carol asked, dabbing at a wound on the side of your face. You shut your eyes from the fumes of the alcohol. She was starting to worry about just how many traitors could be in the walls.

“There was at least one other person. When I got hit, I was looking back at him ten feet away from me down the hall.”

Carol sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay.” Her eyes drifted down to the cruelly carved letters on your chest. Your chin tilted down as you tried to look but her hand on your shoulder stopped you. “Hold on,” she said. Her face contorted with emotion she was trying to hold back. “Better you see this now. I’m so sorry.”

You gave her a perplexed look. You knew you were beat up but what was she—

Carol grabbed the small mirror off the little sink in the corner and held it up so you could see yourself for the first time. Initially, all you saw was the swelling and bruising on your face but then your breath caught in your throat. S-A- and part of a V, cut into your skin. The cuts were deep and she had already had to apply some butterfly bandages to hold certain spots closed. No wonder your skin had burned and stung there since you came back to consciousness.

You felt like you were about to be sick and Carol must have seen you pale because she hastily put down the mirror and gripped your shoulders again as if she was afraid you were going to faint. “Whoa. Deep breaths.”

Your eyes shut and you did your best to swallow down the nausea. “What the fuck,” you muttered, reeling. You blinked away angry tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get you cleaned up and then I think I have some of my special ointment in my bag. If you apply it at least once a day it’ll minimize any scarring…”

You let out a wry laugh. “Minimize,” you repeated. “But I’ll still have half of ‘Saviors’ carved into me for the rest of my life.” Tears burned in your eyes again. It wasn’t bad enough what you had gone through with Negan, with his men, with the war—now this? Would it ever be over?

Carol winced. “I’m so sorry… I had no idea things were this bad here.”

You sniffled and mopped gently at the tears that had broken out onto your cheeks. “I knew they were pretty bad but—can’t say I saw anything like this coming.”

“Well, who could? It’s—horrific.” She gave you a sympathetic look and then surprised you by pulling you gently into a hug for a long moment. Her eyes were teary now too when she pulled back, but she pulled herself together quickly. Back to business, she returned to the first aid kit and continued her ministrations. Your mind was endlessly turning.

“I wonder why they didn’t finish,” you suddenly said softly.

“Mmm,” Carol hummed, nodding, tossing down another soiled gauze pad and reaching for a new one. “They must have gotten interrupted. Maybe heard someone in that part of the building.”

Your eyes lifted and met hers. She paused at the expression on your face. “Do you think they were going to kill me? Leave me there with—with this cut into me to make a statement?”

Carol’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep her tone flat. Your question had been asked matter-of-factly and Carol was suddenly reminded of all you had gone through in the war and even before any of them had met you, when you’d just been a stranger with a mysterious backstory. “But obviously they knew they couldn’t take you in a fair fight. Fucking cowards,” she growled. “Had to ambush you to even have a chance.”

You sighed, shaking your head again, your eyes dropping to your hands. “They sure beat the shit out of me though,” you mused aloud. “It’s probably good Daryl isn’t here. He’d lose it,” you said, fiddling with another gauze pad which Carol took out of your hands and taped down over the now cleaned cuts below your collarbone.

She cleared her throat. “About that…”

You met her blue eyes again. “You radioed him? He’s probably way out of range by now. He’s probably already in Hilltop,” you said.

“Rosita rode out on the quad immediately to get within range. Eugene is doing a headcount as we speak to see who, if anyone, is missing…”

Another wry laugh left you and you nodded. “That’s why you took so long. And I just thought you couldn’t find the damn kit,” you said, shooting her a look, tears burning in your eyes. “Daryl is gonna go on a rampage,” you said softly.

Carol nodded. “Probably. But he should be here with you. And if I didn’t radio him, I’d be on the receiving end of that rampage. And I think we should focus it on the assholes that did this to you instead.”

You nodded and a sob tried to burst out of you. You suppressed it as best you could and it came out as a hitched breath. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a little strained.

Carol quickly grabbed you into a hug again. “Everything is going to be okay. Daryl will be here soon and we will figure this out.”

You hugged her back and nodded into her shoulder, grateful again for your found family.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was there in an hour, stomping through The Sanctuary with Eugene at his heels, mostly ignoring the stream of words out of the mullet-headed Texan’s mouth. Rosita finally grabbed Eugene’s arm and stopped him, clearly realizing Daryl wasn’t hearing a word of it, didn’t give a shit about anything but going to see you. He was at the door of the little room the two of you had shared before anyone could come to tell you he’d arrived.

Daryl froze and made himself knock lightly, rather than barely in. The last thing he wanted was to startle you. His stomach turned as he waited to hear your voice on the other side, inviting him in. “S’me,” he drawled, the jittery feeling that permeated his body translating to an ever-so-slight tremble in his voice.

You sat up in bed. “Come in,” you said hurriedly, already feeling the tears burning in your eyes again. You were in clean clothes now and thoroughly patched up thanks to Carol, but that wasn’t going to change how rough you looked and how hard it was going to be for Daryl to see it.

The door opened slowly, measuredly, and he took shape in the doorway. He froze for only a split second as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in the swelling and already deep purple bruises. Then he rushed to you and hugged you in against him gently. That was all it took for you to go to pieces against him, clinging to his leather jacket. “Jesus, what the hell did they do to ya? ‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry I wasn’t here. I shouldn’ta left ya. ‘M so sorry, babe. I shoulda been here,” he said into your hair, kissing you on the top of the head, holding you gently so he wouldn’t hurt you but firmly so you knew you were safe.

You sniffled and mopped the tears from your cheeks as he clasped your face and brushed your hair back. “Don’t—don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” you said, looking up into his blue eyes. They were stormy and turbulent. “You couldn’t know…”

“Lemme see ya,” he said, looking you over. His heart ached as you showed him the bruising on your stomach and ribs. “Sit back. Rest,” he said, climbing into bed beside you where you were propped up against the headboard and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You tucked in against him. He left a kiss in your hair again.

“Did—did Rosita tell you what they—that—”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “She didn’t tell me anything specific except that some assholes had hurt ya bad, beat ya up, and that I needed to get back here,” he said. “Tell me what?” His stomach churned around a hard knot. His mind began inventing all kinds of horrific scenarios immediately. What did you mean?

You could see him whirling and quickly tried to explain. “I was unconscious but—” Your hand landed on the gauze pad taped over the wounds below your collarbone. His eyes flitted down to it. “They used a knife and—” You couldn’t get any more words out so you simply lifted the bandage to show him, gingerly peeling back the medical tape and bandaging. Daryl froze completely. Every part of him stilled. He stared at the brutality someone had inflicted on you and hot rage boiled inside him. More tears leaked out onto your cheeks as you saw what it was doing to him to see that on you. You hastily covered it back up.

He softened again, coming back to himself, letting his anger flow away, and wiped the tears from your face with his thumbs. “Hey—it don’t matter to me what they—how they marked ya like that. Ya know that, right? Ya got every right to feel however ya feel ‘bout it. Ya do. But to me—” He shook his head. “It don’t matter, okay? I just see you. It’s all gonna be alrigh’.”

You collapsed into him again, finally letting yourself completely break down, wondering how the fuck you’d gotten so lucky as to find this man. He held you against his chest, his strong arms securely around you. He could feel the bump on the back of your head where they’d hit you. He could feel the swelling on your face and under your clothes, and he internally yelled at himself for leaving you behind, even if it was only supposed to be for a couple days, even though no one would have guessed that anything like this would happen, even though he knew how strong and capable you were. “‘M so sorry,” he murmured again. “I shouldn’t have left ya here… here of all places, with them.” His hands clenched into fists. “I’m gonna track down every one of these assholes and put ‘em in the fuckin’ ground,” he growled.

You couldn’t stand him blaming himself and you pulled yourself together. “It’s not your fault, Daryl. And—maybe… maybe I should have known something like this could happen…”

His brow furrowed. “What do ya mean?” He took a beat, his heart seemingly suspended somewhere in a gaping space that had opened in his chest. “Did somethin’ happen before this?”

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes still glassy. “No. No, not exactly. Nothing happened. I mean, people have—said things to me before. Made comments. I just—”

Daryl frowned, his brow heavy over his eyes, casting them in a deep shadow. “Like what? What kinda comments?”

You sighed and turned to face him more fully. You rested your hands on his sides. “Just—little shitty things. Because of what I’d been here,” you explained. “As Negan’s wife…”

Daryl was boiling again inside with anger. “Ya weren’t ever his wife,” he said. “That word means somethin’ else.” Your fingers went to touch the wedding band on your ring finger, the one Daryl had made with his own hands and given to you.

“Yeah. I know. It doesn’t matter,” you said quickly. “I just wrote them off and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be a big deal and I knew how upset you’d get. It just felt like shitty people being shitty at the time. Mostly…”

“Mostly,” he growled.

“I never thought anything like this would happen. I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”

Daryl sighed and ducked his head, running his hands gently up and down the soft bare skin on your arms, marred with bruises and abrasions. “Don’t apologize. Ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I get why ya didn’t tell me… and yer righ’. I woulda beat the shit out of anybody sayin’ or doin’ anythin’ like that to ya. But tha’s my job. I wanna protect you.”

“I know,” you said. “We’ve just had so much on our plate here. I didn’t want to add something else. And I never thought—I didn’t think—” You grimaced as a wave of pain and dizziness hit you.

“I know. I know. Hey—it’s okay. We’ve talked ‘bout this enough. Ya need to rest. ‘M here now. S’okay.”

“I am really tired,” you agreed, shutting your eyes and waiting for the lightheaded feeling to pass.

He clasped your face again, his eyes flickering from this injury to that, and then he kissed your swollen lips as gently as he could. You managed to give him an overwhelmed, somewhat sad smile which he returned. “C’mon. Let’s lay down.”

Daryl helped you settle down on the mattress and fitted himself beside you. You tucked yourself against his body, breathed in his smell and safety, and shut your eyes. His fingers brushed through your hair, reassuring and grounding.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning Daryl was awake early while you slept on. He carefully, ever so slowly slipped out of bed and pulled a change of clothes on. He snuck out and headed to find Carol, Eugene, and Rosita.

He spotted Eugene first and nudged his head up in a nod as a greeting. “Well, what d’ya got to tell me?” Daryl asked hurriedly.

“We were short five of the former Saviors at the headcount last night, and five again this mornin’. Carol and Rosita have been questionin’ people all night. We don’t think anyone here knew anything about it. They weren’t exactly gentle with their lines of inquiry.”

Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth and nodded thoughtfully. “Alrigh’. As I thought then... Cowards took off right afterwards.”

“Indeed. I suspect they knew Justice’s hammer would fall hard and swift on them once their atrocious deed was discovered,” Eugene agreed. “No way to know now where they’re headed.”

Daryl sighed. “Hopefully righ’ into a fuckin’ herd of walkers,” he drawled. “Alrigh’. Well, we need to send out runners to get word out to The Kingdom and Alexandria so ev’rybody can watch out for those pieces of shit... Y/N and I will take news to Hilltop today, and keep our eyes open for any sign of ‘em on the way. If I get sight of ‘em, I’mma strangle ‘em with my bare fuckin’ hands…” He sighed again, even more heavily this time. “Thanks. For everythin’ ya’ll did last night.”

“Of course,” Eugene said sincerely. “How is her condition today?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head. “She’s still asleep. She was exhausted. ‘M gonna get back up there. I dun want her wakin’ up here alone and ‘m still afraid there could be somebody in here—” he hesitated to speak his fear lest it become real. “She’ll be alrigh’. She’s tough. But she was shaken up pretty good and I can’t believe how bad they beat her up... and what they did,” he said vaguely, referring to the letterds on your skin. “But she’ll be okay.” He patted Eugene on the shoulder gratefully and headed straight back to you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

With hasty goodbyes and thank you’s to your close, chosen family, still at The Sanctuary you departed for Hilltop on the back of Daryl’s bike. You held extra tightly to him the whole way, and often his right hand left the handlebars to smooth over yours for a moment. The Sanctuary shrank smaller and smaller behind you and then disappeared into a cloud of dust. Neither of you knew it at the time, but you’d never come to that place again while it was a semi-functional community. It would be only ruins when you sheltered there during the storm eight years after the war.

On arriving at Hilltop, Maggie threw her arms around you and tears of shock filled her eyes when she saw your bruised and swollen face. Enid insisted on checking you over again, but gave you the all clear after much expressed anger and concern. Maggie quickly carved out a space for you and Daryl to stay, close to the room she shared with baby Hershel in the big house up on the hill.

Your body had stiffened overnight and on the bike ride. Every movement caused aches and pains to shoot through you and Daryl was attentive and worried as you settled into your new home. When you settled into bed at first, Daryl kissed every part of you where he could see a bruise or injury. His fingers were light and gentle on your skin, and you were amazed as you always were that he could be so soft when he was so strong. Finally, the sun sank below the horizon and you were again laying side by side, your head tucked up under his chin, listening to the whoosh of air in his lungs and his steady heartbeat.

“I had an idea,” you said softly, breaking a long but comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Maybe when I’m all healed up, if—if it scars bad, I can get someone to do a tattoo over it to cover it up.”

Daryl smiled. You were already thinking ahead to the future, thinking of solutions. That was a good sign. He hugged you more tightly against him. “What would ya get?”

“I don’t know. Something pretty… to cover up something so ugly,” you mused aloud. “Like, there are these flowers that only bloom once in their lifetime and it can take decades to happen.”

“Nah, tha’s no good,” Daryl said quickly.

“What? Why?” you asked, looking up at him with surprise from beneath your lashes.

“It don’t fit ya. Yer bloomin’ all the time. Every day. Ya always have been, even when ya couldn’t see it,” he drawled. He pressed a kiss softly to your forehead.

You smiled at him sleepily.

“Was that too cheesy?” he asked with a gruff laugh.

“No. It was just the right amount,” you said. “Okay… maybe I’ll just get ‘Property of Daryl Dixon’,” you joked.

“No good. Ya ain’t nobody’s property. Ya belong only to yerself. ‘M just lucky that you share with me,” he said, his fingertips tracing vague shapes on the bare skin of your hip, exposed from the way your shirt had draped.

You sighed and nuzzled in against his neck. “I was only kidding,” you said, closing your eyes.

“I know. But it’s true.”

You yawned. “Maybe. But I do also belong to you, by my choice. I have since that night you fell through that rotten floor,” you said with a laugh. Daryl’s chest moved as he joined you with a low chuckle. In another minute, you were asleep. Daryl whispered ‘I love you’ into your hair, and shut his eyes too.

He meant what he’d said—he’d find whoever had hurt you and end them if he could, but after that, he wouldn’t allow the shadow of the past to dim another day. He’d walk with you forward, facing the sun in the same way you’d been doing together since the end of the war. And he hoped this time all of it, all the Saviors, The Sanctuary, the fear and pain, was really behind both of you.

[kenananamin]

A Sorcerer’s Spirit

A story inspired by the 1947 film The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Summary: You move into an older house that keeps going up on the market. Avoiding all the warning signs, you move in and meet the ghost of a sorcerer named Nanami Kento. Nanami sees you struggling with the piling bills that could put your livelihood at stake and suggests you write stories from his life to sell and help decrease the growing worry.

Preview: Nanami rounds the couch and sits beside you, “I have a plan.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “My life was not exactly… normal. Not a lot of people know about what I do — did. I think you can make some money with my stories.” You put down the letter in your hand and furrow your brows, “What?” Nanami shifts to face you, “Write my story. We can write it as a thriller or mystery or supernatural piece. We can change the genre depending on the story.” He explains with a proud grin and... you're confused.

Warnings: implied spoilers, mentioned deaths of several characters

Tags: nanami kento x fem!reader, sad, angst, ghost nanami, sad reader backstory, happy ending

~6.3k words

You sit at your table with the growing pile of bills and a throbbing headache. Having to move during such a difficult time and changing the address to every single letter you dread every month was absolute torture. You weren’t even able to unpack anything for your room, bathroom, or kitchen. Your priority was the big plastic bin with pending letters.

2:34am. You weren’t going to finish anything else for the night, so you stand to go to your mattress instead. God knows where the blankets and pillows are so you grab your jacket to use as a blanket for the night. I’ll deal with it tomorrow, it’s not like it’s going anywhere, you think.

You sleep almost immediately after laying on the mattress and if you had stayed awake for a minute more, you would have seen the figure appear by the doorway.

“Hmm,” the man by the doorway ponders, “I wonder how long it’ll take for you to leave…”

———

You wake up with the sun shining directly on your face, “Damn it. I should’ve put the curtains up.”

You take the sun’s assault as your sign to start your day. Going past the table full with the pending letters, you grab a couple boxes labeled bathroom and start unpacking. You were ready to settle into the house and you did not plan to move again. The landlord was a bit hesitant to rent this place to you but it was the size you needed and you just had to ignore the other warnings this place had attached to it. If you didn’t bother any other … things … that were here, then they would leave you alone too … right?

The doorbell rings and you knew it was the moving company with your bigger furniture. Four men start moving everything in and you focus on unboxing the things that were in their way. You’re putting a shoe rack in the entryway closet and close the door when you see a man standing right behind the cloor.

“Oh shit!” you jump back, “Oh – oh gosh, I’m so sorry, you just scared me.” You try to laugh off the weird encounter and look back at the man, “Sorry, was I blocking your way?” You move to the side and make space for the man, but – you notice he’s not holding anything… and his attire is very different from the movers.

“For how long are you planning to stay?” he asks with his hands in his pockets.

Did this random man just barge into your house?!

“You’re… not a mover. Please get out of my house, now.” You block the way to the rest of your house with your body and step forward.

The man chuckles and steps forwards too, “That’s my line. You get out of my house.”

You step back to turn and call one of the movers to help, but the man literally… disappears. You’re frozen in your entryway for a moment but you run into your house looking for the man. Maybe he just went past you and you think he disappeared?? The oldest mover goes to you and asks if you’re ok, worry obviously stitched into his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, umm, are any of the movers wearing like a – a suit? Or did anyone see someone else around the house?”

The older man looks to his colleagues but quickly turns back to you, “Miss, it’s only the five of us here.”

———

You spend the rest of the day looking around for that man. You looked in every room and closet and even checked the perimeter of the house for any possible breach. All windows were locked and doors closed. It makes sense that the man was at the entryway, the door was wide open for the movers… but where did he go?

You’re back at your table, trying to read the new bill that came in today, but distracted with the thoughts about that man that entered your house. You lean your head down on the table and focus on your breathing to try and avoid any panic or anxiety.

“Your furniture is too small for this place.”

You immediately lift your head to the voice that broke your silence, to the voice you recognized from that morning. How did he get in here?

You push your chair away and stand up to prepare to defend yourself if needed. The man looks you up and down and quietly says, “so dramatic.”

You grab the scissors you were using to shred the old letters and hold them in front of you, “What are you doing here?! How did you get in here?!”

The man looks at the scissors and laughs a bit. He starts to close the gap between you as you step back while swinging the scissors at the man who kept getting closer and truly scaring you. You keep stepping back and back and end up against a wall, and he steps right in front of you – right in front of you. You look to your hands that you know are still holding the scissors, but anything beyond your wrists – there’s nothing. Your wrists, hands, and scissors are inside this man’s chest and he is nonchalantly standing right in front of you.

You might have screamed, maybe, you aren’t too sure. But you know you faint and fall to the floor and the last thing you see are this man’s polished shoes.

———

You wake up against the cold floor. A male voice rings out, “You’re the first person to actually move all their furniture in here and unpack the bathroom and kitchen. Most people unpack their towels, maybe their toothbrushes and a pot or pan before running out again.”

You start to sit up, deciding if you should come to terms with the fact that you’re being held hostage in your own home. “Who are you?” You tried asking as brave as you could but the shakiness in your voice couldn’t be hidden and quickly gave you away.

The man is sitting on your couch, legs crossed and one arm leaned against the back of the seat, “I actually feel bad that you fainted and reacted the way you did so I won’t play my games right now,” he stands and makes his way to your spot on the floor. “I’m Nanami Kento, and this is my house.”

His house?? You furrow your brows and open your mouth to talk but he, Nanami, interrupts, “Yes, my house. I’m dead. But this is still my house. Haunted places don’t do well in real estate so not many people make it here, but the ones that do immediately leave because again – my house. I make sure people don't stay for long.”

You don’t move from your spot, speechless by this man. In a truly inexplicable way, you might, maybe, perhaps believe him...

“So when do you leave?”

The question brings you out of your shock and you stand to confront him, “I am not leaving! Your house?!” you scoff, “Sir, this is my house now. I am not leaving my house because a ghost in a suit refuses to leave limbo! Now leave!!”

Nanami grimaces but leans in to stop inches away from your face, “We’ll see.”

———

You get used to wearing your headphones the whole day around your house. You would flinch when you’d turn the corner and see Nanami lounging around or, in a couple occasions, waiting for you as soon as you opened a door.

You would see his lips moving, trying to talk to you but you’d look past him and continue what you were doing. It’s been over a week since you moved in and you’ve only had a couple conversations with him that usually end up in him calling you a “stubborn girl” before your headphones are back on.

You’re walking back home with a few groceries. The house was not too far from the store, but it was a good distance to let your ears rest from the headphones. And think about those bills. You would be ok with the next few payments since you’ve saved enough in the bank, and your job could cover a bit more after that but you’d run out of funds soon and have to live paycheck by paycheck. Then your mom would move in, then your brother too. Three mouths to feed…

You rub your face and walk into your house.

“I thought your name was y/n.”

You flinch after hearing Nanami’s voice. Shit, you forgot to put on your headphones. You start taking off your shoes and respond, “It is.”

“Then why are those medical bills written to a ‘Mari’?”

You look up to the man with his hands in his pockets, “Were you looking through my stuff?! Stop looking through my stuff!”

He tilts his head, “I didn’t go through anything. You always leave everything out on that table.” He shrugs after seeing your glare, “I got bored looking out the window, so I started reading what I could.”

You scoff and roll your eyes as you make your way to the kitchen. Nanami follows you and tries to peek inside your grocery bags.

“So why are there so many bills?” Nanami asks and leans on the counter as you take out your things.

You don’t feel like answering so you ask him, “Why is this house so cheap?”

To your surprise, he answers and points to himself, “It’s haunted.”

You roll your eyes and grab the butter and milk to put in the fridge.

He continues, “And over the years, this area hasn’t been as popular. The area west of here is in demand so this whole neighborhood has been going down. It might get really quiet around these streets soon.”

You close the fridge and look at him. You honestly weren’t expecting any sort of answer from the man despite the very simple question. He usually ignored your questions too and you just asked the first thing that came to mind to avoid answering his question. You take a deep breath, Oh what the hell, it's a ghost, “A lot of them are medical bills,” Nanami looks into your eyes as you explain, “My parents and brother were in a really bad car accident. The other car got away and there was no insurance to help. Everyone was hospitalized and the bills… didn’t stop. They lost their house after that and… and my dad passed shortly after.” You clear your throat as you finish your explanation, “Funerals are pretty expensive too…”

There’s a short silence before you hear a soft and genuine, “I’m sorry. It seems like you’ve taken over everything.”

You nod but look away from the man before he can notice your glossy eyes.

“Is that why you need this house? A place for your mom and brother?” he softly asked.

“Yeah. My mom should be leaving the hospital soon. My brother has a couple surgeries left but he’d move in soon after.”

Nanami nods as you finish your sentence. For the first time since you moved in and he appeared in front of you, he turns and leaves the kitchen without you having to say anything. You peek into the rooms to check for him, but he’s nowhere to be found after your first open conversation.

———

You’re shredding some old bills on your couch when you hear light steps behind you. Ever since you told Nanami about your situation, he hadn't been bothering you as much as that first week. He might pop up for a bit but he'd usually disappear and be unseen for most of the day. Nanami rounds the couch and sits beside you, “I have a plan.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “My life was not exactly… normal. Not a lot of people know about what I do — did. I think you can make some money with my stories.”

You put down the letter in your hand and furrow your brows, “What?”

Nanami shifts to face you, “Write my story. We can write it as a thriller or mystery or supernatural piece. We can change the genre depending on the story.” He explains with a proud grin and... you're confused.

You think about what he said for a while, "why do you want me to write your story?"

He shrugs, "It's not that I want my story out there to be remembered or something like that. I just think it would be interesting to write them out. But most importantly, it could help you and your family. And look at me," he points to himself, "dead. It's not like I would need any of that money, it would just be to help you."

"How do you even know that your stories would make money?" you ask more unsure of the plan the more you talk about it.

He lifts a brow playfully, "Oh y/n, you haven't even heard my story yet. You'll be begging me to write it."

The next week and a half was filled with Nanami telling you his story in great detail and the ideas he had on how to write each part of his life. You weren't sure at first but the more he told you about his life, the more intrigued you were. Sorcerers, curses, staying in the shadows yet being in the open without a single soul noticing. You'd sit in bed at the end of the night, writing blurbs and brainstorming with what he told you that day. It wouldn't be easy to try to sell this, you weren't even sure where to start, but it was a nice distraction after those terribly long days at work and heartbreaking hospital visits.

"I don't like that last sentence, it wouldn't keep the reader's attention," Nanami spoke from beside your bed and you jumped up, not expecting the man to be learning against the wall right next to your bed.

You had been getting used to Nanami appearing out of nowhere but it still surprised you when you thought you were finally alone only for him to break that silence... again.

You look up to ask the question that's been plaguing you since starting to listen to his stories, "How am I even supposed to sell this? It is interesting and all, but I don't know anyone and I'm sure publishing companies won't even look my way despite how good your story is."

Nanami keeps his eyes on the screen when he says, "Kiyokata Ijichi. He can help sell this. I'll give you more information so he believes you, but I know he'll help."

You blink rapidly not understanding a word of what he just said but look down again to re-do the last sentence.

———

You met with Kiyokata Ijichi and it did not take much convincing to get him to believe that a sorcerer's spirit was floating around you at home and he wanted you to sell his story. It made the man laugh and he had to remove his glasses to wipe his tears after hearing how Nanami looked. Nanami had told you about the last few hours of his life, how chaotic it had been in Shibuya and the last image others around him must have had. He knew his death was a gruesome one and that it'd be reported and filed for other sorcerers. Ijichi would of course have found out how his colleague —no, close friend, died. The man was content that Nanami wore his suit and still had his glasses...

Ijichi took what you had of the transcript and told you he would find a publishing company. He assured that he would usually not even listen to a proposition like the one you presented him, but he wanted to do anything to help his friend one last time.

You took the opportunity of your meeting to ask questions about Nanami. Ijichi spoke a bit of his adolescence, but spent most of his time complimenting the talented sorcerer for his skill in fighting and caretaking personality despite the stoic appearance. You could tell he admired the man and truly truly missed him. He mentioned he would've have liked to answer one more call from Nanami and help him one last time. This was the call he was waiting for, and he would do everything to make sure this mission given by Nanami Kento was completed.

———

You started to leave a chair at the table out for Nanami to sit when you left the house for work or the hospital. You'd leave sheets and sheets of paper spread on the table and floor so he could move around the house and read the edited stories to give you notes and/or corrections when you got home. You had tried handing him a stack of the new edits before, but they just plopped on the floor. Nanami stared at the stack on the floor and told you he could not lift or touch anything. His brows lightly furrowed and you could see the sadness extending into his eyes. Although he would mist away as a spirit, you would honestly forget that this man was not actually there. To you, he was like another visitor whose company you started to enjoy. You started spreading the paper on other surfaces that day and although Nanami did not tell you anything at that moment, he was grateful that you'd take the time and energy to do it.

———

"Can I ask you something... kind of personal?" You look up from your laptop to glace over to Nanami sitting across from you reading his next story you had edited. He nods and you continue, "how come you never leave the house? You stop at the door when I'm walking out and you've never attempted to walk out with me.."

He puts his elbows on the table and looks straight into your eyes, thinking about how to answer. "After my death in Shibuya, I had very little energy in the afterlife. I was ready to go at that moment, but a part of me wanted to continue — to stay. I had thought about home and how much I would have liked to be home resting, packing for my trip that never happened. I didn't know I was doing it but I attached myself to my house in the process. I can leave, but it takes a lot of energy even as a spirit. If I have very low energy, the door does not lead me out to the street, but it becomes a beacon of light that I suspect would take me to the actual afterlife. I'm not sure I should take that chance right now and head out the door with the possibility of not coming back."

You softly nod at his response, "thank you for telling me. I'm sorry again about Shibuya, but thank you for telling me... and helping me, Nanami."

The man smiles at you and simply replies, "thank you for listening."

———

"Please promise me that you won't show yourself to my family. Please, I don't want her to see anything she shouldn't and go back to the hospital from shock," you tell Nanami as you fix the pillows on the couch, preparing for your mom's homecoming. He assured that only you will see him and that he will not speak around your mother to avoid you accidentally giving an answer out loud and freaking her out. You head out to pick up your mom from her lengthy hospital stay while Nanami looks out the window, awaiting your return.

When you're back inside, Nanami is leaning on the kitchen counter, listening to your mom thank you for everything and compliment the place. You would catch Nanami smiling at you both when you'd glance his way. A deep part of you thought, I wish they could meet. I wish I could tell her about the man standing so close to us, the man who has been keeping me from a complete break.

In the kitchen, Nanami thought, They look so alike, the same eyes, bright smile, beautifully soft hair, calm beating heart... A beating heart. She was alive, she has a tint to her cheeks, she can touch and feel. Alive. Unlike me.

———

Ijichi found several publishing houses that were interested in your stories and a few even offered deals for multiple books and volumes. The books would be published under a pen name, a combination of both yours and Nanami's name that you both contemplated one late night on your bedroom floor, far from your mother's listening ears.

You ran back home to tell Nanami the news, too excited to wait until the end of the work day. Thank the heavens that your mom was at her part time job when you got home, you don't think you'd be able to contain your excitement to your room at a moment like this.

"Nanami!! Nanami, where are you!" You start screaming out for him as soon as you open the door. But.. it's quiet, "Nanami, Ijichi called!! Where are you!" You head for the common space but he's not there either. A quiet alarm starts going off in your head, but you try to push it back. You try to smile and ask again, "Nanami? Hey, where are you? I have news from Ijichi about the book — can you come out?"

Silence. You only heard your footsteps walking into rooms while looking for Nanami. You open the door to the extra room you use as an office sometimes and see Nanami mist into shape in the corner, "Oh! I found you!" Relief immediately spreads in your chest and you smile widely at the man.

Nanami returns a small smile and asks what happened. You excitedly share the news and jump around him while repeating every single detail Ijichi said. Nanami listens with a smile as he leans on the small desk in the room. He tried to keep the smile on his face for you, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. I can't do this to her yet, oh god — no, not yet. I know I should for her sake, but I... can't.

———

Nanami enters your room as you're asleep. Your eyes softly shifting behind your lids, your fingers occasionally twitching and your chest slowly and repeatedly rising and falling. He never considered coming into your room while you were asleep before, but he wanted to tonight. Just tonight. He kneels next to your bed and lifts his hand to your hand. I can't touch her. My fingers go into her hand and I cannot feel her at all. Nanami floats his fingers over yours, pretending his hand is resting on yours as it would if his form was tangible. He imagines what your skin would feel like. What your small, soft hand would feel like to hold in his. I have to try, I have to give her what I can. Nanami floats his hand over your heart, imagining he could feel the soft beating he would focus on listening when you were around. He leans in closer, much closer than ever before, and gently hovers over your your lips. If only I really could. He pretends to land a soft kiss on your lips, something he wishes he could actually do a thousand times.

———

You jump around and cry when a copy of your soon-to-be released book is finally in your hands. The first of a five-book series. Nanami stands next to you and smiles as you show your mom what you had been working on. You leave out the fact that a sorcerer who hovers around the house helped you write it and say it was a fantasy book you've been thinking about for a long time.

Your mom starts crying, proud that you wrote a book and apologetic for potentially taking so much of your time when you were trying to do something for yourself. You're comforting her and telling her you're glad to be able to provide and be with her.

Nanami goes into the office to give you the space and privacy to talk with your mom. He decides it's finally time. Tonight, I'll do it tonight.

Late at night, after a long conversation with your mom, you sit on your bed as Nanami sits on your floor. You're still holding the book, tired from the overwhelming excitement and adrenaline. You had also just gotten news that your brother would be coming home within the next few days. For the first time in a long time, your face hurt from smiling and crying so much the whole day. You lie down and tell Nanami, "I'm so happy Nanami. Thank you for helping me so much," you felt the tears well up again, "you've helped so fucking much." The tears fall but your smile does not falter as you thank him.

Nanami wishes he could wipe your tears, but he stays in his spot next to your bed and says, “Call me Kento, I think we’re close enough for you to call me by my first name now.” Nanami wanted to hear you voice say his name, to see your lips move to every consonant and vowel in the beautiful way he'd imagined.

For some reason, the thought of calling him his first name makes you let out a small giggle. You look at his waiting face, “Thank you Kento. Thank you a thousand times over.”

You both sit there smiling at each other as your tears continue to fall. He comforts you how he can and you both stay awake talking late into the night. And that night, before your exhaustion drifted you to a slumber, you imagined the bed shifting next to you and Nanami laying down beside you. His body warming the other side of your bed, and his arms wrapping around you and embracing you.

Nanami waits for you to sleep as he watches from the same spot on your floor, for your breath to slow down and even out. He gets on his knees and hovers a kiss over your lips and another on your forehead.

That would be the last time you saw Nanami. And you would not remember how he helped you or kept you company.

———

Nanami used all the energy he could to leave the house for the first time since shortly after his death. He had only left the house once before and it drained him enough that he could not even mist his body into appearing. But tonight, he had to leave to go see Ijichi, even if that meant risking not having the energy to appear in front of anyone ever again and not knowing where he'll end up.

Nanami leaves the house, tired, but finally leaves and starts to make his way to Ijichi's apartment. Nanami waited for Ijichi, knowing he would open the door at the crack of dawn to leave for work as early as he always did.

Ijichi opened the door and to say the breath was knocked out of him would not be an understatement. Nanami appeared as a faint and transparent figure in front of Ijichi, compared to the opaque figure he could create with you with the energy of the house. Faint and transparent, Ijichi still cried and thanked the heavens for a chance to see Nanami in his fine attire one more time. Nanami spoke fast, saying he did not know how much time he would have, but asked Ijichi for one last favor.

Nanami asks Ijichi to find someone to erase the memory of him in your mind. He did not want to be remembered by you and wanted you to enjoy your life and new-found success without wondering about the what if's. Nanami saw the way you looked at him lately and it broke his heart every single time. He saw you pondering the possibilities and he knew you both were thinking the same things. Nanami wanted you to live, to enjoy your life without thinking of the 'between' where he would stay.

Ijichi agrees and says he will stay in contact with you with the excuse of being your agent. Nanami agrees and stands by his friend's entryway as Ijichi calls someone and they all rush back to the house before you wake. Nanami tells Ijichi how to get in and he quietly stands with Ijichi in the corner of the room as the woman Ijichi called rests her hand on your forehead, altering your memories and giving you peace.

———

Many, many years later…

Your brother and his grandson have just left your house. You sent your nurse home early and now you sit in bed with the photo album your grandnephew made for you and a mug of your favorite tea. Your hand hurts if you hold the tea for too long but you enjoy the warmth of the mug on your stiff hands. You finish looking over the photo album and put it down next to you and shift down your bed to sleep while you think about the precious photos your grandnephew thought to give you. You turn off your lamp and feel yourself drift off to the happy thoughts of your brother and his beautiful family.

You wake up and the sun is barely starting to shine through your window. You move to sit up and it’s… easier. Your back does not hurt, and you were able to sit up much faster than you have in years.

“y/n.”

The familiarity in the voice stops you mid-stretch. You slightly turn and see a man. But... not just any man…. Nanami?

It’s overwhelming. Your eyes are scanning his figure as the memories flood in, the arguing and bickering, the planning, the writing, the laughter, the tears… all of your memories. He’s standing on the other side of the bed and smiles. It’s the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from anyone, especially from him from what you can recall. His eyes no longer hold the sadness from before, it’s – it’s relief?

“I wanted to be the first one you saw after…” he pauses and looks behind you on the bed, “it was peaceful, painless, wasn’t it?”

You follow his gaze and look directly behind you to where he’s looking. And there you are. You’re laying still and it looks like you’re asleep. You scramble away from your figure and stand up in a semi-panic.

Nanami walks around the bed as you keep staring at yourself, dumbfounded, and reaches for you, and touches you. Actually touches you. You flinch at the contact at first but lean into it immediately. It was almost as if your body was waiting for his touch, yearning for it and not being able to relax until the contact finally happened. This was the first time you felt him. His fingers lightly grazed your forearm and slid down to your hand, half intertwining your fingers.

You look away from your body on the bed and look at Nanami. He has stepped closer and is looking at every detail on your face. You look down at your hands and notice they are no longer wrinkled and covered in sunspots. These hands were the hands that typed for hours on end, the hands that covered the floor with sheets of paper, the hands that reached for Nanami's back as he walked away… the hands from when you were young.

“You’re beautiful.” Nanami moves a few strands of loose hair and leaves his hand on your cheek.

“Why did you leave? What happened to you?” You tilt your body to face him, moving closer and snuggling your face into his hand, savoring the feeling of his large hand on your cheek.

“I never left you alone. I was still here, I just didn’t want you to see me,” Nanami sighs. “You needed to live your life, I wanted you to live your life.” He pauses before asking, “do you regret it?”

You step closer to him, your bodies only inches apart, “What?”

“Writing my story, the memories of it all.”

You shake your head. You lived your life after the book, Nanami made sure that you were set before taking a step back and watching from afar, from behind. You could never regret writing his story. After all, it was his house and his story that brought you two together.

Nanami asks another question as he strokes small circles on your cheek with his thumb, “Darling, why didn't you leave — get married?”

Why didn’t you? You think for a moment before answering, “I – I was too attached to this place, I think. I couldn’t leave this house and the thought of it was too sad, I would shut down those conversations immediately when my family would bring it up. I thought maybe it was the memories I had in this place with my family... but I think it was you. Subconsciously, I think I knew it was you I didn't want to leave behind. I never felt like getting married either, I was living well by myself, and I did well.”

He moves both hands to your face, staring into your eyes and rememorizing the mesmerizing color that he missed staring into. The feeling of his fingers finally being able to touch you is almost too overwhelming, “I’m sorry... and thank you. For living so well… and for so long.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and finally, after decades since the first time you thought about it, kiss him. Your first kiss, his soft and supple lips covering yours as he lowers his arms and pulls you in closer. It is slow, so painfully but beautifully slow. You had both fantasized about this moment, the moment to finally feel each other so closely. Nanami pulls away from your lips but drags his lips around your face, kissing random spots over and over again.

You slightly pull away from him and ask, “was I an ugly old woman?”

Nanami laughs at your bizarre question during such an intimate moment. He pulls away as well to drag his eyes to look every detail of your face again, touching your hair and leaning his lips back over your forehead, “No, you were the cutest woman I’ve ever seen.” He leans away again but some of the sadness from before flashes in his eyes, “I just wish I met you during my life... and aged with you to touch your wrinkled hands and run my fingers over your smile lines and grey hair.”

You smile at him to relieve his sadness and move to hold his face, “You can hold me now whenever you'd like. And I can hold you, touch you, whenever I’d like.”

Nanami returns your smile and holds your hands to slowly pull you out of the room. He starts to slowly look around the house and you understand why. You’re leaving – the both of you. This would be the last time you’d be in this house… because you were leaving with Nanami. You follow his lead and look around the house one last time. The kitchen you’d brainstorm in, the living room floor and couch you'd congregate to for the next chapter, the office you’d sneak off to so your mother could not hear you, the bathroom you’d argue in with Nanami when he didn’t agree on a few sentences from a chapter. There were so many memories, with and without Nanami, you lived a long, eventful, and ultimately joyous life.

You both end up back in your room where Nanami looks over your aged body on the bed then the pictures on your nightstand and bookshelf. A full life. A happy ending to a devastating start. He feels your hand on his back, and he turns. The stark contrast to your aged body, the young woman who stood up to him after trying to stab him with a pair of scissors... and trusted him.

You both hear the door pad slide open and the clicking of the buttons. You hold out your hand to Nanami and he happily accepts the hand he'd been yearning to touch. You both walk out of your room and pass by the unknowing nurse walking to your room and hear a gasp followed by quiet prayers. You and Nanami stood to the side as the funeral home came for your body. The respect they showed and the grief of the nurse you loved told you you had done enough, and you were ready to go.

Nanami squeezes your hand a bit and nods towards the main door. You nod to him, and you both start to make your way to the door, saying quiet goodbyes to your favorite parts of your house. Nanami’s house, your house.

“Thank you Kento, for letting me live such a life. And for waiting for me.”

His wide smile returns to his face, “I’ve been waiting decades to hear you say my name again. It’s all I’ve wanted.”

You're both smiling with heads held high amongst the humans who all have somber expressions and their heads down. You pass the foyer and look back one last time. Nanami is not alone, and neither are you. You'd both be together in the next step, happy to finally experience something together in the same form. He softly kisses you again before stepping closer out the door. Hands tightly held together, bodies side-by-side, you both step into the bright white light.

the end

a/n: The Ghost and Mrs. Muir is one of my favorite movies ever. black and white movies fill a very special place in my heart so please please try watching them if you haven't yet!

[writingfool001]

I Already Found my Happily Ever After Part 2

Author’s Note: I want to finish the dorm leaders and trade Kalim for Jamil because he was the intended villain and I wanted to. I might write about Kalim, Rook, and Lilia later. I also noticed how long these became and tried to stop myself with details but couldn’t. I rushed a bit on Malleus. 

Pairing: Jamil, Vil, Idia, & Malleus x Female! Reader  

Warning: Female Reader, Spoilers for Chapter 6, this is long... like LONG 

Part 1 (Riddle, Leona, & Azul) Part 3 (Kalim, Rook, & Lilia)

It was a joint school get together or basically what prom would be with several academies together which was an upside for you and your lover. You barely have had the time to see each other since both of you go to different schools and your school would rather affiliate themselves with the Royal Sword Academy than Raven Night College. 

When the event was announced, the headmistress advised everyone to be on their best behavior and if anyone from another school tried to force themselves, you had full permission to take care of the problem or find an instructor. Yeah, your headmistress had zero tolerance for assholes. She also mentioned that it was NRC's turn this year to  

You met up with each other at the event and your lover was dressed handsomely as he stood out in the crowd. You both decided to have a nice night, wanting to enjoy the time with each other. He complimented you on your attire and gave you a kiss on the cheek before escorting you to the main hall where the event was being held. 

At some point, you stepped away to use the restroom and right as you were on the way to return, a figure stepped into the middle of your path which made you stop. 

“My humble apologies, but I couldn’t help ignoring your gorgeous self and was wondering if I could possibly have this dance as your date.” He started bowing and held his hand out. 

“Sorry, but I’m here with someone,” You decline politely, stepping around him to continue on your way and only get a couple feet away before he spoke again.  

“What could be better than dancing with a prince and possibly your future true love?” He said, causing you to freeze as others paused and watched the interaction.  

“What could be better than that, you ask?” You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, “Dancing with my betrothed.”  

“Who could he possibly be? Possibly from RSA?”  

“Nope, he goes to NRC.”  

“A villain?! Are you mad?”  

“Nope, I’ve always loved the villain more than the hero. Perhaps all the other girls, fawning after you, will take up your proposal.”  

You walk off, leaving many people’s jaws on the floor as you made your way over to your beloved who saw you publicly humiliate some prince. 

Jamil  

He chuckles underneath his breath before coming and escorting you off, wanting to enjoy the night with you. Part of him was somewhat worried about what consequences may follow after tonight, but he could care less.  

He remembered your family would come around every summer, building familiarity between Kalim and his betrothed. Given, he never saw what his betrothed look like, even though he was usually around Kalim. He was going about his usual duties, walking past one of the many gardens, then noticed a girl standing very still. He got closer, hiding behind a pillar and noticed that the girl was staring down at a tiger, slowly stalking towards her before charging. Right as the tiger tackled her, Jamil readied his magic and was about to charge in before hearing laughter.  

The tiger was licking the side of her face as it purred loudly while she scratched the sides of its face. He watched the two interacting before approaching and questioning why she let the tiger tackle her as well as how the tiger was so friendly.  

She just said that the tiger was friendly and wanted to welcome her back. Back? You must have been Kalim's betrothed when he was annoyed that Kalim left you alone. Watching the interaction, he noticed your curiosity and how easily you adjusted to the current situation. He wondered if you had a weird animal taming ability. He then told you he was going to escort you back to Kalim and took you away before letting you speak. Internally, he was grumbling about Kalim being so foolish to let his betrothal wander the palace. He held your hand in his as you two walked back to the main room. Deep down in his gut, the feeling of his hand in yours felt nice. Immediately, he tossed aside that feeling and ignored it since you were to be Kalim's bride and it would be foolish to fall in love with you. 

By the time you both reached where Kalim was, he saw him talking excitingly to another individual before noticing you two and introduced the mysterious person next to him as his future spouse. Ther was one thing that stood out to him about Kailm's newly introduced spouse, the resemblance between you and them.

He looked back and forth at Kalim's betrothed then you. He questioned you and you told him that you were their sister/bodyguard. He asked angrily why didn't you tell him who you were, and he nearly fell over when you told him that he never let you explain who you were. After that day, you would drag him away l, giving Kalim and your sibling space to bond while you two watched from afar. He told you a bit about his family as you did the same to him, without noticing your sibling watching you. He showed you the wonders of the Scalding Sands as you showed him the diamonds hidden within the city and palace. He watched as you curiosity shone during your small excursions. 

Over the many years you spent together, your fondness for each other flourished and many could see it, deciding to leave it to the wind. You both had your own duties or training to do, and he would sometimes pass by where you were training. He would pause and watch you burning determination as you wielded your weapon skillfully, bringing down each of your opponents, before Najma snapped him out of his trance. He would deny he was staring with some blush on his face before leaving as Najma giggled at her brother. She knew he was down bad and was ready to have you as her sister-in-law. She even teased him about marrying you, causing his doubts to plant a seed in his head. 

He tried to tell you that you should marry someone who will make you happy and was of your blood. You should stick around someone who can promise you a bright and safe future.  

You took his face in your hand and asked him what made him think he wasn’t important to you. The multiple times you two would slip away, the meals you two shared, all the time you two spent together, and not to mention, that you stayed by his side while in his two week coma. 

“You know you’re stuck with me, right?” He said as you both walked towards the balcony.  

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”  

Vil 

He simply smiled as you both strutted away from him, this wasn't the first time you've publicly rejected someone with great power. 

You both originally met on set for a movie where you both were part of the lead group. You would both work online and do social interactions with fans as well as interviewers. The main reason you both were spending so much time together was due to your chemistry with each other and confidentially, your characters were being shipped together. During that time, you both got closer and could consider each other friends while others would say you were closer. When the movie wrapped up, you both went your separate ways and would run into each other on set at every other film production that you two were brought into. 

You got to hear about Vil's hatred for Neige and noticed how companies or casting would always put them against each other. Yes, Vil played excellent villains, but he has so much potential to play the hero. You would occasionally catch Vil checking Magicam’s trending list, only to see Neige was still above him, and you wished that things would turn in his favor. 

Between the time, you both would keep in contact, checking on the other. You made appearances on each other's social media, only feeding the fire for fans to think you two were together and advertised the other's current projects. 

When you were called to work on a movie, you found out Vil and Neige were going to be in the same cast as you. The two different auras together and you got to experience it all. How lucky you were. 

He remembered that while everyone wanted to be around Neige’s bubbly self, you spent time with him and mainly wanted to stay away since in your words, being around Neige is like being around the sun and you’d rather not go blind from his bright personality. You stuck by his side a majority of the time since it felt comfortable. 

There was a cast party, and you were dressed gorgeously, mingling around and talking to your fellow cast members and production crew, before Neige approached you while he watched from afar with another cast member. Neige tried to woo you, but you just brushed off his hints and told him that you weren’t interested in him. Neige just smiled and left you alone, Vil smiled a bit before returning to his conversation. 

After a while, Vil asked to meet up with you and during your lunch together, he asked you to go out with him. You were surprised as Vil told you that you fascinated him and made him feel comfortable around you, making him forget about the world. You were skeptical about this little proposal of his, not wanting to get your hopes too high, and told him that you weren't going to be a pawn for him to one up Neige You would rather have a relationship with someone who saw you as an equal rather than something to be tossed aside later. 

He understood your skepticism and reassured you that he wanted to have a romantic relationship with you. That little moment of reassurance led to the happiest relationship you ever had. Neither of your fans caught up to it because you both would show up on each other's account until you posted a picture of him with the caption, my pretty boy. The internet broke for a while as both of you got media attention and you simply brushed it off and went about your day. Your boldness was something that he admired about you. 

 A few years later, you both were together for 3 years when he was in his third year of NRC when he asked you why you stuck around. 

“I already found my happily ever after and wanted it to last as long as it can.” You gave him a bright smile.  

“Is that a marriage proposal?” 

“It’s a promise, only if you want.” You slid an open ring box towards him with a simple yet tasteful ring. 

He smiles back on the memory from a couple months back and kissed your matching promise ring on your hand. 

Idia 

Internally, he broke down and was flustered as he tried to mask his flushed cheeks before you came over and kissed him on the cheek. You took his hand in yours and led him away from the small scene you called.  He had a small lovesick grin on his face, thinking about how you would rather stick around with him than run off to some royal normie. 

He remembers when you two were first introduced to each other at a young age since your parents worked for the same company and knew each other personally. You both hid behind your parent’s legs, peeking from behind to get a glance at each other. The reasoning behind your two meetings was to have two strong households come together to come as one, translation meeting your betrothed. 

Once they left you to your own devices, you met Ortho and opened up a bit more to each other. You learned more about Idia and heard about his interests as he learned about yours. He told you about how lucky you were to see the world due to your parent’s work, which caused the two Shroud brothers to be curious about your travels. You told them about some of the places you went to, filling their minds with vivid images. 

After that, your parents would always have dinner with Idia’s parents every month so you would bring back a piece of the world and a story that Idia would appreciate. For a while, you grew close to Idia and became someone, who also had to take up their household mantle, he could confine himself while he became your rock. 

When you heard what happened to Ortho, you visited and sat outside of his room for hours, even days before he let you in. He told you that you were stubborn, and you told him that someone had to be. You helped him the best you could once he told you what he wanted to do and kept him company even after that, even if you two were in separate places. 

You both had gaming nights together, especially when you both went to separate schools, and he would hear you deny your classmates’ offer to go out and meet some boys. You were a bit of a loner, like Idia, yet kept a few friends, even though you would get called away for work. 

He also remembered when you showed up to his school as he was dropping off everyone from S.T.Y.X and hugged, panicking after you got word what happened. You got a call from the STYX laboratory that concerned him and an overblot which caused you immediately left your work sight to get here. He could feel the multiple eyes zeroing in on you two as you worried over him. He tried to keep a straight face and guided you back to the plane, ignoring the questions that were being thrown at him. 

He revealed what happened at STYX and Ortho before showing you the memory card that you both worked on. He started rambling about bringing Ortho back and what scenarios could happen then stopped as you cupped his face.  

You told him that all we could do was try to see what and he was stumped when you referred to the both of you rather than just him. He questioned your statement before you showed the email from the facility for your help to improve the security system. 

You helped him with rebuilding Ortho's body and gave your insight when he was stumped. You watched the two brothers reunite before leaving the room, to give them time to reconnect. 

Idia was glad you stayed with him, knowing about his curse and being his rock, and cherished every fiber of your being. Rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand and leaning a bit on you as you both sat outside, enjoying the stars. 

"Let's stay together forever." he said, staring at the sky. 

"Even in the next life?" 

"Absolutely." 

Malleus  

He smiled while watching you approach him, dazzling him with your presence and your performance. He kissed the back of your hand and offered his right arm for you to take.  

As you both walked away, he turned his head back to the rejected prince and just gave him a small smile before turning his focus back to the front of him.  

He couldn’t blame the poor boy for trying to woo you, but it was quite bold of him.  

Malleus thought back to the first time he met you and how this entire situation looked familiar because he saw the same thing. 

He was at a gathering of nobles and royalties, going about his usual royal duties, while trying to be as social as he can. Even though it was a masquerade, he still felt that he stuck out like a sore thumb even with his mask. He danced a bit with noble women and socialized but wanted to get this over with. Excusing himself from a group, he slipped away and made his escape to the Palace’s Garden without Lilia noticing him slipping away.  

“Are you going to keep watching from afar?” They spoke and looked in his direction, catching him off guard, before he revealed himself. 

“Forgive me, I didn’t expect to see anyone here.” He spoke as the figure relaxed a bit. 

“You missed the couple making out that I came across earlier.” They revealed before looking at him. “So, what’s the crowned prince doing out here, away from his party?” 

“How-” 

“The horns give you away.” 

He explained to have a break from a party among many strangers, which the stranger agreed to doing the same, before asking who they were. 

“I guess I should tell who I am considering I know who you are.” They chuckled before telling him her name. For the rest of the night, they both strolled around the garden and enjoyed a midnight stroll. His parents asked him if he met any possible candidates to marry him. He thought about you and how you two got along but decided to keep it to himself. His parents wanted to try a couple more times to see if they could help with the engagement process before giving up. 

At every single party, you two would either meet on the dance floor or find the other hanging by the wall. There were several occasions that princes from other lands would propose or ask for your hand, as you two were hanging out, before you flat out rejected them. Every time and no matter how dramatic or extravagant they were, you told them that you weren’t interested, and you wouldn’t marry a man you just met. He brought it up, during one of your nightly walks, and asked why you rejected them. You told him that you’d rather marry a villain because they’d be someone who would burn the world for you and treat you as an equal rather than a steppingstone to reach their goal. Your confession left Malleus awestruck, causing his jaw to drop. You simply lifted his jaw back up and continued to walk, confidently away. 

You knew what you wanted and weren’t scared to speak up to all the bullshit you deal with. It was at that moment that he knew that he wanted to marry you or at least ask for your hand. He started showing more of himself to you as you did the same which after a while, his parents noticed and decided to leave it to fate. You taught him more about culture outside of the Thorned Valley and humans.  You kept in contact when you both attended school and it was after his first year that he asked you to marry him. As he waited in anticipation with a hint of fear of rejection, you kissed his forehead and brought out a ring. What a coincidence, you were going to ask him the same. Excitingly, he accepted and showered you in kisses before resting his forehead against yours, cherishing this starting moment of your lives together.  

“I’ll give you more than the moon, my love.” He said while showing you NRC’s botanical garden. 

“A tempting offer, darling. But for now, a night with you is a good start.” 

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I'm so obsessed with this it's not even cute. Itadakimasu (いただきます) is a Japanese phrase that translates "to humbly receive". Often said before eating a meal, the phrase is used as a way of showing gratitude and respect for everyone and everything that made the meal in front of you possible.

A couple of teensy tiny spoilers about a couple of his personality traits. They're not anything that would ruin the whole show. Just spoilers about his cute ass personality. Ok, carry on.

C/W ::: Being rudely woken up, oral M->F, some mild name calling, exhibition kink if you look too closely but not really. I think that's it. Overuse of italics!

Thinking about Mikey laying there next to you. Disgruntled. You're snoozing away like a little baby who just polished off a full 8 ounces. He can't believe how peacefully you're sleeping like that. The nerve of you to actually do that shit while he's right there.

He shifts multiple times. Coughs, really, way too hard for someone who's not exerting themselves in anyway whatsoever. "Accidentally" elbows you in the tit.

"The FUCK, Manjiro! What's your problem right now, man?" You sit up and glare at him.

"Can't sleep. And you wouldn't wake up." He whined.

"Yuh, 'cause I'M sleeping, you brat!" You felt bad immediately after saying that to him. It's rarely like this and you wondered if something was bothering him. Sighing, you ask, "Are you ok, though? You have your blanket?"

"I ... mean, since you're asking. 'M a little hungry." He raised his eyebrows softly and smiled so fucking sweetly at you that your tooth hurt.

"Fine, c'mere you big baby." He rolled over onto his belly and began kissing up your legs to your panty clad cunt. Pushing the sheer fabric aside, he licked your slit once, twice. You moaned out as quietly as you could. Draken and Baji were on the floor, hopefully asleep themselves.

"How are you this wet already!" Mikey whisper-yelled. "Were you faking being asleep? Tell me the truth, y/n." He laughed and shook his head before lowering his face again.

"I - hoh Je-Jesus - no, I wasn't faking. I think it's just you. Being so close to you. Fuckin' ... I'm always horny." You blushed.

"Good girl ... good ..." he started to suck on your clit and trace his tongue in circles around the sensitive spot, "... girl."

You arched your back and bit your lip to stifle the moans that were threatening to escape your mouth. He was going down on you like he hadn't seen you in days. You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots, encouraging him.

Mikey took his time licking your pussy from top to bottom, occasionally sucking your clit hard, then switching to flicking it with his tongue. He loved your taste and how wet you always got for him. How responsive you were to his touch.

"I want to make you come, y/n." He said, his fingers softly brushing your entrance.

"Who's this about, huh? You or me? You're the one who can't sleep. Shouldn't you cum?"

"Love, it's about both of us. Quid pro quo. Eye of the tiger and all that shit. Now shhh. Lay back, let me eat so I can pass out. Yeah?"

Taglist ::: @arlerts-angel @viburnt @darkstarlight82

[selfindulgentpixies]

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

Chapter 4: Realizations and losses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Satoru asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suguru’s hum is as knowing as his smile. 

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s directly behind you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kahluah]

Part 5 volume 8 spoilers

So very glad that Hannelore has joined us on team "Sigiswald is a basic bitch who doesn't even qualify to be Rozemyne's partner" by the reasoning of "look at how cheap his courtship gift was, his mana isn't even on the same level as yours so he couldn't even give you kids :/" like there is also the realization of "oh you really are not someone who should have the unchecked power of a royal and the free time of a third wife" after the whole library rant, but she is out here willing to help overthrow the country if it means she can help her bestie out and bag a good man 👍

I am again enjoying the sheer audacity of Ferdinand's new plan of setting up Myne as a divine figure to give the Grutrissheit, and therefore the tedious job of being in charge, to somebody else so that he and Myne can build their nerd paradise in peace. Like yeah they will still have to rule as Aub and whatnot, but it sure gives them a lot more freedom to do what they want and not be bothered.

And hahahahaha Ferdinand getting embarrassed at Myne's brash declarations about making a place for him to be happy. Sylvester and Co. are never going to let him live it down.

These two really are like aroace couple goals. I really enjoy it.

I am worried about Gervasio being so close to having the full Grutrissheit. Like we now know that there have been multiple people with multiple Grutrissheits in the past, so him getting it isn't an automatic win for them, but it's really going to elongate this battle 😔

But damn the current royal family really does seem entirely useless. I'm totally for Ferdinand's plan just in hopes of getting someone semi-competent on the throne so hopefully the new royal family actually like learns from history and reads some goddamn books.

And like dang has their laziness really made their mana capacity fall that far? Like it seems like this is actually a problem that plagues the entire country. Because supposedly Gervasio was head and shoulders above all the other seeds, but Ferdinand is the only one we've seen on the same level as Myne. And like yeah it's been two decades so who's to say how much Ferdinand's capacity has improved since he was a kid; especially with the new compression method.

[girls-alias]

Have A Little Faith - Dean Winchester P9

Title: Have A Little Faith - Dean Winchester Part 9

Words: 998

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: SPOILERS S1E12

Taglist: @deans-baby-momma, @qinnroki, @moldyorangees, @creative-writing92, @lokischickadee, @take-it-on-the-run, @daisy-the-quake, @ilikw, @selfdestructionandrhum

Part 8

We pulled up to a tent in the middle of a muddy field. Dean instantly groaned in annoyance. I smirked to stop myself from laughing. Sam climbed out of the car and rushed to Dean's side to help. Sam helped him out of the car as I climbed out the other side.

"I've got it," Dean protested not wanting his help. Dean thought this was as ridiculous as I did. I walked around to be with Dean, he smiled at me weakly but rolled his eyes at Sam. "Man, you're a lying bastard. I thought you said we were going to see a doctor." Dean groaned as he slammed the car door.

"I believe I said a 'specialist'. Look, Dean, this guy is supposed to be the real deal," Sam argued but Dean sighed wrapping his arm over my shoulder and letting me help him walk.

"Man, I can't believe you brought me to see some guy who heals people out of a tent," Dean groaned as he walked, most of his weight resting on my shoulders.

"Reverend le Grange is a great man." Some old woman commented as she walked past. I raised an eyebrow stopping myself from laughing.

"Yeah, that's nice," Dean's tone showed how enlightening her comment was. I chuckle, earning a smile from Dean. Sam watched as someone argued with a police officer. "What do you say we leave Sam here," Dean whispered in my ear making me giggle as I shook my head continuing to lead him to the tent.

"Look, when people see something they can't explain, there's controversy," Sam commented not noticing that Dean and I were talking about something else.

"Yeah but come on, Sam. A faith healer?" Dean questioned.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," Sam commented but Dean scoffed. Dean seemed to think for a second before he spoke.

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's going on." Dean seemed to burst so I stopped to look at him. He seemed surprised that I stopped so pulled away to look at me confused.

"If you know evil is out there how can't you believe good's out there too?" Sam asked but Dean's eyes were on me. Searching my face to find the answer as to why I stopped.

"You asked to keep me if you survived," I reminded and he placed a hand on my cheek, clearly noticing my eyes filling at the thought of Dean not even willing to try anything to be cured. He stepped towards me. "I just thought you'd be willing to fight. We've all seen what evil does to good people from hunting and we're always the ones fighting to save them. We're the good in the world, we save them when no God does but to save you we need help, Sam and I are fighting for you like he always does on hunts but this time praying to some idea of hope is better than doing nothing at all," I ranted and Dean smiled as he sighed. He licked his lips and nodded. I smiled, searching his face.

"I'd like to kiss you right now," He commented staring at me deeply, his eyes searching for the tiniest bit of evidence that I didn't want him to. I glanced at Sam seeing him smiling and turning to look the other way. I grinned before grabbing the back of Dean's neck and guiding myself to him. He smiled as he leaned down to kiss me. It was slow but full of meaning. I pulled away to smile up at him, and he seemed to just smile at me for a moment, it was plain to see that he was happy.

"Aw, what a beautiful newlywed couple," An old woman commented as she passed us. I rolled my eyes, God I hate religion buffs. Dean chuckled as he watched me.

"Let's just get this over with so we can leave," I sighed making Dean chuckle as he put his arm over my shoulder again we were about to walk in when a woman stepped in front of us.

"God works in mysterious ways," The skinny blonde with a fake smile beamed at Dean. Is this bitch blind? Is that why she's here she clearly mustn't see me standing here.

"Maybe he does," I replied mocking her voice slightly. She didn't even look at me she just kept smiling at Dean. My Dean! My focus was on the woman but I could see Sam trying not to laugh. "You've convinced him, maybe you should move out the way so we can get in and you can put your umbrella away," I don't why I was saying it, she just looked stupid. The high-maintenance type cries if her hair gets wet.

"I'm Dean, this is Sam-" Dean started introducing and I questioned if he even remembered I was there. This boy is trying to be killed. "And this is my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N," He finished and I smiled to myself realising I was so annoyed at this bitch flirting with Dean in front of me that I thought too soon.

"I'm Layla," She added shaking Dean's hand and no one else's. I ran my tongue across my teeth. I will hit her, I will make out with Dean right now to mark my territory. Maybe Dean's too attractive. She went to speak so I coughed loudly and walked through Dean and Layla's eye contact as I marched into the tent. Dumb blonde thinking she can have Dean if she makes googly eyes at him. I took a seat saving space for Sam and Dean but right now I didn't care if someone took the seats.

Dean's too attractive! I rolled my eyes as I crossed my arms. I sunk into my chair huffing and puffing as I waited for the service to start. Who am I kidding? Dean is too hot. Everyone is going to fall in love with him.

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Part 10