#but now if you’ll excuse me I must sob

[dreamhacker606]

My brain’s a little weird because I’m thinking about Lucifer angst where you and Lucifer have been dating somewhat in secret for a while. Or maybe Charlie and the others know and it’s not so secret.

Then one day, Lilith comes back. Lucifer is torn between his wife who left him for 7 years and his partner who has brought comfort and love to him that he needed.

And yet, he knows he can’t be with you, because one day, you will be redeemed. He sees the good in you that he knows will lead to your redemption. He can’t bear to lose someone he loves again. So the best thing in his mind, with the depression and his own trauma, leaves you to be with Lilith.

Despite knowing you two have a greater connection and have grown close quickly. Even everyone else—even Charlie— felt like Lucifer was back to his regular self. However, he is the King and his own person, and you can’t help that despite your broken heart, you try to be happy for him.

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

[norrizzandpia]

Best Friends To Benefits To Lovers (OP81)

Summary: They’ve been dating for months after being the closest of friends for years. The question is, however, did they start out as best friends with benefits?

Warnings: NAH BRO WATCH YOUR TEETH FALL OUT FROM THIS SWEETNESS

Note: This is based off the idea for This Is About Oscar?! and Who Is Oscar Piastri? just not with the same exact plot line

ynnn it’s here!!! goodnight n go is something that took years to make because I was in that specific situation for so long until it shifted. It replicates a dilemma I thought I would have to die with, but, in the end, my deepest desires came to fruition. goodnight n go is all yours when it used to be just mine and Oscar’s and we wouldn’t have it any other way 💌

Comments:

oscarpiastri so proud of you my love ❤️

Liked by ynnn

mclarensgirly BYE IM CRYING AFTER LISTENING TO THAT

ln4andop81 I DIDNT KNOW WHAT GOODNIGHT N GO WOULD MEAN BUT NOW I DO AND ILL NEVER GO BACK

landonorris awww such a good song! (there were a few lines in there that i physically recoiled at)

- f1fan22 he heard “i got you, i got you dreamin, you close your eyes and you’re screamin,” and dug his grave

- mclarensgirlll i would love to see oscar screaming

- oscarpiastri you can just not in that sense but i would be happy to scream in your face!

- mclarensgirlll YOU COULD DO THAT TOO

- ynnn im gonna have to veto that one sorry

—

TWITTER

f1fan2 SOO ARE WE GONNA TALK ABT YNS NEW SONG?? ITS THE WAY WE FINALLY GET CONFIRMATION THAT THEY WERE BEST FRIENDS AND THEN STARTED SLEEPING TOGETHER AND THEN JUST ABSOLUTELY FELL HEAD OVER HEELS FROM THERE

- mclarensgirly YEAH BC SHE SAID IT WAS A SPECIFIC SITUATION SHE WAS IN FOR YEARS BEFORE IT SHIFTED AND THE FACT THAT SHE BASICALLY CONFIRMED IT WAS ABT OSCAR WITH THE FACT THAT SHE SAID IT HAD BEEN THEIRS BUT NOW ITS OURS LIKE IM CRYING WE ALL WATCHED THEM BE IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER PAINFULLY FOR SO LONG

- ln4andop81 “one of these days you’ll miss your train and come stay with me” I CRIED SHE DREAMED OF THEIR LIFE TOGETHER WHEN SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS JUST A QUICK FUCK TO HIM BUT SHE. WASNT. 😭😭😭😭 SHE NEVER WAS

- mclarenfan22 ITS SO WIERD TOO BC ALL THE FANS AND MEDIA KNEW HE WAS IN LOVE WITH HER WITH THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER BUT THE SONG TELLS US THAT SHE DIDNT “we’ll have drinks and talk about things and any excuse to stay awake with you” LIKE SHE JUST WANTED TO BE WITH HIM

- mclarensgirly AND SHE RESISTED HIM TOO BC SHE WAS AFRAID TO FALL IN LOVE “why’d you have to be so cute? It’s impossible to ignore you. Why must you make me laugh so much? It’s bad enough we get along so well. Just say goodnight and go.” GAHDAMN

- ln4andop81 i literally can see him leaving her on the weekends to go race and them both thinking the other doesnt want anything more BUT THEY DO “and you’d sleep here, i’d sleep there… we’d be good, we’d be great together” SHE ALWAYS WANTED HIM TO STAY 😭😭

- mclarensgirly im glad she sat on this one and got together with him before releasing it bc i dont think i couldve handled it if they werent together and THIS SONG came out

- mclarenfan22 real.

—

oscarpiastri i’ll never again just say goodnight and go 💗

Comments:

mclarensgirly so im fully sobbing now.

ynnn you missed the train

- oscarpiastri i was always destined to miss that train baby

- f1fan2 THROWING UP CRYING OUT LOUD SOBBING BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WTF

landonorris you always goodnight n go me.

- oscarpiastri do i really need to explain the difference to you?

- ynnn lando back off hes MINE.

- landonorris well we will see abt that.

- oscarpiastri im hers. end of discussion.

—

ynnn WHY’D HE HAVE TO BE SO CUTE 🫨

Comments:

oscarpiastri natural talent?

- ynnn i would agree with that

mclarensgirly WHEN WILL I GET WHAT THEY HAVE FUCKING BEST FRIENDS TO BENEFITS TO FALLING IN LOVE I WANNA GOUGE MY EYES GOD WHERE ARE YOU

- ynnn should i be concerned for you?

- oscarpiastri i dont think you should… i mean shes just jealous of us which makes sense ‼️

- ynnn she said she wanted to gouge her eyes out osc 🤨

- oscarpiastri YEAH IT MAKES SENSE I WOULD WANNA GOUGE MY EYES OUT TOO IF I WASNT WITH YOU

- ynnn so i should be concerned for you too.

- oscarpiastri nah im just in love

- ynnn yeah i get it

[nuri148]

Bad Boy: No one calls Levi "IT".

I wanted to comment on something that I've seen these days in some meta posts of Bad Boy, but I haven't had the time till now to check the font to confirm my impressions and, you know, argue with receipts.

No one calls Levi "IT".

I also must say, the posts authors are without fault. The "it" in the (rushed, fan-made) English translation is either a mistake (I suspect machine translation might be involved) or a very unfortunate choice of words if translated manually.

You see, there is no "it" in Japanese. There is “this” and “that”, but no “it”.

The word the criminals use is “こいつ” [koitsu] which is a derisive term to refer to a person. Depending on context, it could be translated as “this guy”, “this dude”, “the SOB”, “ that MF”… you get the idea.

If you watch subbed anime, you’ll hear koitsu* all the time in shounen where guys are or want to appear tough – especially since, much like in English, such terms can be used insultingly, informally, or even as a term of endearment between very close people (as in “This mf and I have been bffs since kindergarten!”). Those guys likely use koitsu on a daily basis. I don’t have all the raws handy and neither have the time to go through them, but for instance, Hannes calls Eren koitsu in chapter 1 when he ponders about the kid’s wish to join the SC; and Connie calls Jean this when he “blames” him for his joining the SC in chapter 3.

There are worse ways to call people, and Levi himself uses a wide range of them throughout the main manga.

More importantly, although koitsu can be used for inanimate objects, this use is rather an endearing form in familiar settings. What’s important to note is that koitsu is not the Japanese “it” equivalent by any means and, therefore, it does not carry the dehumanizing undertone that calling a person “it” in English has.

Depending on context (and Japanese is a highly contextual language) it can range from very informal to plain derogatory, but it is absolutely not akin to call a person an object. Calling someone koitsu in the wrong context wouldn’t make them go “omg they’re dehumanizing me”, but rather “omg they called me something very rude.”

Of course this doesn’t mean the criminals in Bad Boy are any less perverse, but I think a clarification of this (I want to believe, honest) mistranslation is important for two reasons: one, to provide an accurate analysis so as not to atribute the characters, or the author, an intent that isn’t there; and two, to not give the haters an excuses to dismiss or disparage a whole meta post because of one incorrect piece of data.

*I’m using only koitsu throughout the text for simplicity’s sake but you’ll also see/hear the equivalent terms soitsu/aitsu/yatsu, which are basically the same, the only difference being the itsu in relation to the speaker: this mf, that mf, that mf over there... You also have doitsu as the interrogative form (which mf?).

Here is a very clear article regarding the use of these words:

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

i saw your post saying you wanted ff requests, and i don't know if this is specific enough for you, if it's not, thats fine and you don't have to do it, but i'd love for you to write an averyjameson fic where avery has a panic attack during an event of some sorts (any reason; reminders of the shooting, etc), and jamie finds her in an empty hallway and comforts her with like forehead kisses and by whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

OOOOO OKAYY (and dw it’s specific enough 💗💗)

——————————————————————————

I patted down my dress, hoping to make the time pass by faster. As a result of Jamesons brushes with the law, Alisa dragged us to another fancy party to clear the air around us. The only thing was that tomorrow would mark the official day that my mom died. I wanted to get it off my mind, but it never would. That day will probably haunt me till the day I die. And having to fake smiles, engage in small talk, and pretend like I belong here just makes everything more difficult. I held in a breath as Grayson, Jameson, Nash, and another rich family that Tobias was associated with walked towards me. I forced a smile.

“Hello, Mr and Mrs. Beaumont. How are you enjoying the party so far?” I asked, morphing my face into something pleasant. The truth was, I hadn’t told Jameson that tomorrow marked the day that my mom had died because I wanted to get it off my mind. But now I sort of wished I had somebody who understood what was going on, somebody like Jameson. Mr. Beaumont flashed me a winning smile.

“It’s quite the party, Ms. Grambs. I love the venue, very nice and old fashioned.” He said, smiling. I smiled back.

“Alisa wanted this place to have a cozy, yet elegant feel. I suggested it myself.” Nash said, tipping his hat. I caught Jamesons eye and immediately his smile turned into a frown. I wondered if he could really read the sadness on my face that well, when nobody else had seemed to notice. Is everything okay? He asked with his eyes. I looked away, swallowing. It felt horrible to push Jameson out, but honestly I just wanted to be alone right now. And I can’t tell him what’s going on anyway, with the Beaumonts in front of us. Mrs. Beaumont smiles, her eyes shimmering.

“So, I heard you’re creating a Game, Ms. Grambs?” She asks me. I nod.

“Yes. It involves 7 contestants from all around the world who have a chance to receive millions of dollars, if they can complete and win The Game. It’ll be mostly riddles, puzzles, and games that require your brain power. Me and the Hawthornes, as well as Rebecca and Thea, will be supplying the riddles and puzzles.” I respond. Her smiles widens.

“Well, aren’t you a smart girl? Thinking up riddles all on your own. Your mother must be so proud. I wish I had a girl, but instead I have 3 little boys who wreak havoc on each other.” She said with a laugh. She keeps talking about The Game, but all other conversation fades into background noise as my breathing stops. Your mother must be so proud. Was she proud, my mother? I didn’t know anymore. Because I didn’t know my mother anymore. I was starting to forget her belief in me, her love for me, her laugh, and that fills me up with an emptiness that nothing else ever could. Feeling the tears threaten to burst from my eyes, I butt into Graysons and Mr. Beaumonts conversation.

“I’m sorry, but I have to use the washroom, If you’ll excuse me.” I say, before turning and walking towards the hall. But as tears start to shine my eyes, my walk turns into a run, and suddenly I’m sprinting down the venue towards the exit. I speed past Libby, who’s giving me a wide eyed look and calling out my name, but I didn’t care. I needed to be away from all of this, because it was killing me. I shoved the doors open, gasping as the tears start sliding down my cheeks. I run into an empty hallway and spot a table, with a large white tablecloth blocking the legs of it. I duck under it and sit there, the tablecloth blocking anybody’s view of me, and sob into my knees. The hall was empty, but I still tried my best to cry as quietly as possible. After about 30 seconds of sobbing, I heard footsteps coming into the hall. I sucked in a breath as I tried to stay as quiet as I could, while also listening to see who it was. There wasn’t a voice, but from close to me I could hear a sigh, and immediately recognized it. Jameson. He walks closer, his footsteps getting louder. Suddenly, a breath catches in my throat and I sniff without meaning to. The footsteps stop, and then get way louder. Then, a hand yanks the table cloth up, and Jameson crawls under the table to sit next to me. He doesn’t put a hand around my waist, or kiss me, but instead speaks.

“Y’know, Heiress, we’re probably gonna have to go to another dinner party because of the drama that you sparked at this one.” He said, his voice joking. I didn’t say anything, but the sound of his voice was still comforting, so I soaked it in. Then, he turned to me, a serious look in his eyes.

“Your mother is proud of you. I can’t think of a reason she wouldn’t be.” He said. I turned to look at him, the eye contact making my stomach twist, and tears started to shine my eyes again.

“I just can’t stop wondering if I’m doing it all right. Or if I’m disappointing her or not.” I say, looking down at my knees. Then, I feel his arm slide around my waist, and the touch is so comforting I sigh.

“Of course you’re doing it right. You’re living your life, flying around the world and visiting all the places that you and her had planned to go. You donated almost all of the money you inherited to an amazing cause, became the world’s youngest philanthropist, and fell in love with an extremely handsome man.” He says, the ends of his lips tilting up at the last part. I smile myself, choking out a sob-laugh. His smile vanishes as he takes my face in his hands and kisses the tears off it. Each kiss feels like a balm on open wounds, and I was starting to regret not telling him about my mother’s death date being tomorrow earlier. When he’s done kissing my tears, he stares into my eyes, with so much love in his own I shiver.

“If your mother were around today, all she would be able to talk about is how proud you make her, Avery Kylie Grambs. Never forget that.” He whispered, his voice intense. I wiped my eyes with a smile and held his hand, before bringing my face close to his and kissing his forehead.

“I’ll try not to, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.” I whispered back, using his full name just like how he had used mine. He grinned at me and brought his lips close to mine. I gave a small nod and suddenly, Jameson was kissing me, each brush of his lips making me want more and more. Eventually we separated, and I turned my body, laying my head on his chest. We both didn’t say a word, and I allowed myself to relax and soak up the moment, while focusing on the beat of Jamesons heart. I smile, and just for a moment, imagine my mother looking down on me, smiling as well.

——————————————————————————

THIS WAS SUCH A CUTE REQUESTTT THANK YOUU 💗💗

alsoo can anybody spot the lyra x grayson line from the brothers hawthorne that i put in here? 😜

[hopefuloverfury]

I know you said you might do this anyway, but what were the bachelorette's first impressions of the farmer? how did they all fall in love with them?

I had so many thoughts about this, and even though I cut out quite a bit—yes, it was worse than this—they’re still big. I actually had to rework the format because tumblr literally would not let me post the fucking text wall that was Maru's part, and then I couldn't have her part be formatted differently because that drove me insane. Jesus. Writing for Emily is still a little unfamiliar to me, and I think it reflects in my writing a little bit, but I hope I did her justice.

Bachelors are here.

Bulleted format. Scattered dialogue, self-doubt, and a little bit of thirst(Leah's fault, not mine), but mostly fluff. Mentions of injuries, blood, and the farmer being a reckless dumbass. Not proofread, please excuse any mistakes, my English isn’t great. Some of them include a bouquet, others do not. I stuck to canon for most of them, but I gotta be honest, sometimes my imagination is just so much more fun. Enjoy <3

Maru

Maru is extremely excited to meet you

Those farmlands have been sitting there for years, wasting away and falling apart with no one to care for them, and as a little girl she absolutely loved your grandpa

She was always interested in agriculture, and watching him work was never anything but interesting to her

She was heartbroken when he passed away, but because the farm belonged to your family after that, and there was a strict ‘no trespassing’ rule, she never got to visit

She could stand outside the gate, looking over the slowly deteriorating land, but never ever did she hop the fence

So the idea of the farmlands opening back up was a dream come true for her—the fact that someone was finally going to start caring for the land again filled her with so much joy

When she does finally meet you, that joy is confounded with curiosity

She can admit readily that she’s attracted to you, but she doesn’t get many opportunities to speak to you after the initial introductions, so it doesn’t go much deeper than that

You’re always so busy, and she doesn’t want to bother you, lest she distract you from your chores or responsibilities

But sometimes, you’ll come into town for your errands, and watching you flitting around with so much on your plate makes her hopeful for the future of the valley

She knows that your grandfather must be resting easy now, with the farm in your capable hands

Honestly, at first she thought you might fix up the farm enough to sell the land and make a dollar off of it, and then bounce

She’s relieved to know that you’re not doing that

And the more buildings you commission from Robin, the more excited she gets

There’s one time when she goes on a walk to take a break from a frustrating problem with one of her machines, and she ends up at the northern entrance of your farm

It’s greater than it ever was under your grandfather

The fields are full, there’s animal pens bursting with life, and you’re standing a little ways off, feeding your horse

You notice her, sensing her stare, and she’s terribly embarrassed at showing up without any invitation or warning—even if it was unintentional

But you grin, happy for the company, and usher her onto your property

She flicks open the gate, and the moment her feet touch the ground beyond the fence, she’s teleported back to her time as a toddler, when she would chase the chickens and watch your grandfather work

You’ve heard how close she was with him, and how much she looked up to him, so when she starts tearing up looking around the property, you lead her to your grandfather’s shrine

She kneels in front of the stone, holding her breath still in her chest to keep from sobbing

She’d never been able to visit the headstone before that moment, and seeing his name carved into the dark stone broke her heart

You give her permission to visit the farm whenever she likes, even when you’re not home, if ever she wants to visit him or take a break from everything

The farm is peaceful and beautiful, and she takes you up on the offer with a wet smile

She starts visiting frequently after that, more often when she knows you’re home, but sometimes when you’re not

One day in particular comes to mind: you’d run off to the desert for the day, for one reason or another

She spent the day pacing around the farm, and while she was watching the animals disappear into their pens as the sun crept below the mountains, there was an otherworldly whirring sound by your home

She investigated, and when she spotted you behind your farmhouse, she almost fell apart right then and there

Your body was bruised, and there were shallow cuts in your skin where your clothes were torn—most of them looked like claw marks, but there were also pieces of your clothing and hair that were dark and ashy, like you’d been singed by flames

You caught sight of her, and the relieved smile on your face was like nothing she’s ever seen before

She couldn’t stand to see the farm fall apart again—that was what she told herself, anyway, as she helped you into the farmhouse with a hand around your hip, fully supporting you as you trudged up the front steps

You collapse on the couch, too exhausted and sore to walk up the stairs to your bedroom

She does her best with what limited first aid supplies you have, and thankfully your injuries aren’t terrible, so she manages it well enough

But she’s terrified, though she knows that the likelihood of you dying on your couch is slim to none

While she’s bandaging a cut on your cheek, you realize that her hands are shaking terribly

Carefully, you reach up to hold her wrist, and she stops short

The air between you is charged with something new as you lock eyes

It clicks for her then

But she’s afraid that if it isn’t reciprocated, you’ll stop letting her visit your grandfather and the farm, so she keeps that firmly to herself when you ask if she’s alright

She reassures you that she’s fine, just a little shaken, and that she’ll feel better if you let her finish

She stays over that night, keeping an eye on you from the other couch as you sleep—just for her peace of mind

You wake up and you’re a little better, but she still walks you down to the clinic in the morning for Harvey to properly look you over and treat you

Her dad gives her a lot of shit for spending the night at your place, but she’s confident in her choice and doesn’t regret it, not with your injuries treated properly and your chipper smile flashing in the sunlight as you walk through the square a few days later

It’s a little tense with her father for a while afterward, but she’s not having any of it and is quick to shut him down whenever he tries to scold her—she might have his brains, but she got her mother’s spirit

You feel like shit for putting her through all of that though, and so you stay away from the caverns unless it’s strictly necessary

When it is necessary, you take a lot of food and warp totems with you, just in case—and staircases. Loooots of staircases

She’s grateful for that, but doesn’t know how much until a long while later

It’s not your fault—it was a misunderstanding

Her parents mentioned you on Friday after they got home from date night at Stardrop, and her whole world came crashing down

They told her that you looked terrible, and that you mentioned spending the day in the desert

she was out the door a moment later

Maru sprinted the whole way down to town square, praying you were still at the saloon, and when she busted through the door, you were perched at the bar with a pint in your hand

At the sound of someone nearly crashing through the front door, you lifted up your head, and she really wished her parents could be more specific

You do look terrible, but not because you’re in bad shape—you’ve just got a nasty sunburn and the most horrendous bags under your eyes

Everyone is staring at her, because she never goes to the saloon, but she doesn’t care

She’s so grateful that you’re okay, albeit a little tired

You recognize the look on her face, pay for your tab without bothering to finish your drink, and pull her right back out the door

You walk her home, gently explaining that no, you did not go into the caverns today, you only went to the desert to pick up things from Sandy’s shop and for some “exotic foraging,” for lack of better phrasing, and the sun just took it out of you

You don’t owe her an explanation, it’s none of her business what you get up to, she says, but you shut that down with a hard look, stopping still in the middle of the path to her home

She can’t meet your eyes for fear of you seeing right through her

Her worry, her fear, her paranoia and the wild look in her eyes when she spotted you at the bar was all too honest

There’s more there, and she’s terrified that you’ve figured it out

“You want it to be your business though, don’t you?”

She bites her lip hard, trying not to cry now that she knows she’s been found out

She nods, and then your hand is circling her wrist, and you’re pulling her into your chest

“I want it to be your business too.”

And if you feel her tears drip onto your clothed shoulder, you don’t mention it

Penny

Penny stopped in her tracks the first time she saw you

It was a few days after you’d arrived in Pelican Town, maybe the third or the fourth of Spring

She was dropping Jas off at home when she saw you chopping down trees in Cindersap with a worse-for-wear knapsack slung diagonally over your shoulders, stuffed full with wood and fiber

You were sweating, and panting, and part of her was concerned for your wellbeing, because in that moment she was sure you’d collapse right in the grass beside your ax

But then you wiped the sweat off of your forehead and felled a giant pine tree, in no time at all

She was going to stare some more, but then Jas yanked on Penny’s arm and asked her to walk her inside

Penny only barely managed to tear her gaze away from you to take Jas inside and drop her off

She’s not totally proud of it, and Marnie still teases her for it a little bit, but she rushed through dropping Jas off and was a little short with both of them in her eagerness to get back outside—but not to talk to you. Oh, no.

She was much too shy to do that

But she wanted to see you one more time before you left

Unfortunately by the time she escaped Marnie’s questioning stare, and all but tumbled out of the front door in her rush, you were already packed up and gone

You didn’t go to the egg festival (you were broke, and probably forgot about it in favor of clearing your farmlands)

The next time she got to take a look at you—a proper look, this time—was at the flower dance

You were walking around the meadow, introducing yourself to some, and familiarly greeting others

And when you introduced yourself to her, she nearly forgot her own name as you shook her hand

It had been four weeks since you moved to town, and your hands were calloused from the farm work you’d been busting your ass at since you arrived

But that was the only rough part about you

Everything else was soft and kind, and the way you said her name made butterflies erupt in her stomach

And the smile you gave her afterward was so pretty

She couldn’t forget the way your eyes crinkled at the edges as you bid her good luck during the dance and went on your way

And from then on, it felt like she was seeing you everywhere

Hearing about you from the other townsfolk, catching sight of you walking through town at least twice a day, and even getting a few opportunities to talk with you herself

And then her tiff with George happened, and she swears no one had ever been so quick to defend her—she was a little starstruck when you smiled softly at her after he was gone, and reassured her that what she did was kind and good-intended

You were always smiling at her like that, heartbreakingly gentle

When she apologized for the way her mom shouted at you after trying to help clean their trailer, when you ate her poor attempt at stir-fry without complaint, and especially when you showed up during her field trip with the kids in Cindersap

Clearly just out of the fields, dirt on your knees and mud on your boots, with the most breathtaking glitter in your eyes

Your skin was flushed from exertion, and she’s never seen anyone look attractive while sweating, yet there you stood, backlit by the early afternoon sun

And watching you interact with the kids was the cherry on top

She’s always wanted a big family, but no one in Pelican Town ever seemed like a good match for her—not in the long run, anyway

But she thinks you’re kind, and safe, and you have a natural energy that makes you easy to get along with

She’s well aware that she likes you, but she’s used to things not going her way, or being taken from her, so she resigns herself to an eternity of pining after you

She tries not to fantasize too much, because it’s a little embarrassing, and it hurts a little, but sometimes she can’t help but imagine what you might look like with a child bouncing on your hip

What you’d like for breakfast—how you’d like your eggs in the morning

She thinks about what domestic life with you would be like constantly

Shortly after Robin builds Penny and Pam their house, you show up on her doorstep

You asked Robin to keep it a secret, of course, so Penny doesn’t know it was you and still doesn’t

But she invites you in, too excited to show you everything to notice the stunning array of flowers clutched tightly behind your back

She insists on showing you around, and letting you check everything out

You both step into the kitchen, and she’s gesturing grandly at the dining space, practically squealing over the hand-embroidered tablecloth Granny Evelyn gave them as a housewarming gift

She spins around. “So? What do you think?”

And that’s when you finally reveal the bouquet behind your back

“I think these might look good on the table.”

She thinks you’re being kind, or that maybe you don’t know what those bouquets are for, because there’s just no way, right?

“Oh!—I’m sure we have a vase for these somewhere, just let me—”

You stop her with a careful hand on her wrist, barely gripping just in case you’ve read it all wrong and she wants to get away from you

“Penny. Do you… know what I’m asking you?”

And she does, but she’s in disbelief. There’s no way you’d want her too, right?

And now that she thinks about it, she could’ve sworn you were interested in Haley or Abigail, because, you know, obviously they’re both really pretty, but Haley’s family has money, and Abigail’s so much cooler than her—

“If I wanted them, would I be here, giving a bouquet to you?”

After you leave—because as romantic as you are, you’re still a busy person running a farm all by yourself—she puts the flowers on the table with the dopiest grin on her face

She flops into her bed and squeals into her pillow, the fluttering in her chest so strong she swears she could float away

She has trouble falling asleep that night, too busy thinking of your smile as she stares at the ceiling fan

Abigail

She’s determined to dislike you from the get-go no wonder her and Seb are friends

When she finally sees you, during an early spring trip to Pierre’s, she takes the sudden drop in her stomach as a sign that you’re bad news

Then you beat her at the egg hunt, and she’s in a sour mood for days

she will straight up refuse to leave her room if she knows you’re in the shop

Wednesday is her favorite day of the week, because she won’t have to see you

But of course you have the audacity to show up one day when she’s only just managed to get out of helping her mom with dinner

She’s getting her ass kicked in JotPK when you knock on her bedroom door

She doesn’t know why the hell you’re bothering her, and she’s suddenly embarrassed that you caught her right as she died, but then she gets an idea

She asks you to play in the hopes that you’re terrible at it so at least she’ll finally have proof that you’re not good at everything or perfect all the time

She half-hopes you say no, but then you’re sitting down and reaching for a controller, so she’s stuck with you

You make it past the first level without dying, while she gets killed within the first thirty seconds, because of fucking course

She’s halfway through thinking up a snarky barb when her mom calls for her

You set the controller down and smile at her, and then you’re reaching into your pocket

“I came over to give this to you. I found it in the mines, and it reminded me of you.”

You hand her the most opaque, gorgeous raw amethyst she’s ever seen

She has half a mind to ask why on earth you’d think about her, but then her mother is calling her again, more urgently the second time around, and you’re walking out within seconds

She stares at the amethyst for what feels like forever that night, thinking

She doesn’t get the opportunity to properly speak to you again until a week later

It’s raining, and she’s playing her flute, just basking in the whimsy feeling of the valley 

She opens her eyes after a particularly long note to find you standing a few feet off, your fishing rod in hand

The rain is soaking you to the bone, with some of your hair stuck to the delicate skin of your throat, and she short-circuits

Her gut reaction is to get defensive and ask you what you’re doing, but you handle it with grace

You ask her what she was doing, and when she says she wanted to spend time alone, the recognition on your face is palpable

You nod, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder, but she stops you, saying some bullshit about how she doesn’t mind your company

Hasn’t she minded your company since you first showed up? Why is she lying??

But the surprise and hesitance clear on your face makes her feel… not nice

So she scoots over, gesturing vaguely to the space beside her

“You’re getting soaked. Come stand under the tree.”

What progress you made with her is quickly dashed when you pull out the mini harp—because why wouldn’t you also play an instrument? 

She’s always been competitive, but she doesn’t understand why she’s so desperate to have something over you

Hearing about your trips in the mines from the other townies doesn’t help

Knowing you have the freedom to go wherever you like without any overbearing, old-school parents breathing down your neck, and the fact that you’re apparently in good standing with the two adventurers up at the guild, who speak to basically no one else?

One night her self-worth is particularly bad, and she runs off to the graveyard for some peace and quiet

Her dad is getting on her ass about “acting like a lady” more than usual and it’s been driving her up the wall

It rubs her the wrong way how no one bats an eye at the things you get up to, but everyone’s always getting on her case about acting “proper”

And of course you show up that night, too

Right in the middle of her break between drills, while she’s heaving and guzzling water

You appear out of seemingly nowhere, and the shriek she lets out is so fucking embarrassing

You don’t laugh at her for that, but she does see the mirth in your eyes when she says she was practicing her swordsmanship

As if the thought of her swinging a sword around is so funny to you

She snaps something about that, but then her entire world flips on its axis when you chuckle good-naturedly and make a joke about how pissy it must make Pierre, what with his old, dated-ass values

And then you ask if she’d ever like to practice with you—“I could use a sparring partner anyway”

And obviously Pierre catches you chatting in front of the headstones and nearly pops a blood vessel, and she’s irritated that you had to see them like that, but she’s caught totally off guard when you back her up and laugh at Pierre’s expense

“I know he’s your dad and all, so no disrespect to him, but fucking hell, the stick up his ass is massive”

That lightens her mood a bit, knowing that she has at least one more person who acknowledges that her parents are overbearing sometimes

Unfortunately for your patience, it takes a long time and a few sparring sessions before everything clicks into place for her

In the thick, humid heat of summer, she finally gets you down, her wooden sword pressed just below your jugular

The golden afternoon sunlight bounces off the sweat on your face, and it makes you glow beneath her

You give her a breathless smile, with an eager and impressed shimmer in your eyes, and suddenly, she understands

Every moment since you stepped off of the bus, she’s been pining after you

Desperate to have something over you, not because she wants to be better than you, per se, but because she wants to impress you

She cuts the session short, not glancing behind her even once as she all but sprints away from the farmlands

Once she’s home, she rushes into her room and locks herself inside, her face beet-red and sweaty from the run, and from you

The amethyst you gave her so long ago sits on her night stand, mocking her with its deep purple glow

And oh, she is so fucked.

Haley

She doesn’t share in the enthusiasm everyone has about you, and she honestly doesn’t really care that you’ve moved in

She has no interest in making friends with you—you’re always covered in dirt and sweat and she thinks it’s really strange gross

After you take Emily’s side over the couch cushions, she’s pretty bratty for a bit, and is convinced you have a crush on Emily in order to side with her

But if you give it a few weeks, she accepts that maybe that’s not true, given that your interactions with Emily don’t seem more than platonic

But there’s this one time, where you’re over to drop off some cloth or something, and she’s struggling with a jar in the kitchen

You open it for her without question, and when your hands brush against each other when you hand the jar back, Haley’s skin tingles

But then Emily is there and you’re leaving, so she doesn’t bother examining it further, content to move on with her life

That plan comes crashing down rather quickly though

A few weeks later while taking pictures at the beach, she notices her wrist is uncharacteristically barren

Immediate panic swells in her chest, and she spends thirty minutes pacing over the tiny dunes looking for her great-grandmother’s bracelet, not even caring when sand spills into her shoes and starts rubbing against her skin uncomfortably

She’s close to tears, paranoid and jerking her head this way and that at the slightest glimmer in the sand

Those thirty minutes pass, and she’s not found anything, and her tears start flowing freely

“Haley?”

She spins around, and sees you

She knows how eager you are to help everyone in town—you’re helping to fix up the old community center, all of the museum’s donation placards have your name on them, and every board request outside of Pierre’s rarely goes unanswered

Besides, you’ve helped George and Shane before, and surely she’s not as grouchy as they are, so maybe you’d be willing to help her, too?

She calls you over, and you immediately rush over at her tone

The concern on your face is enough to make a wave of fresh tears push forward, but she blinks them back desperately

Your hands are on her shoulders, squeezing softly as she tries not to cry 

She resigns herself to never seeing her grandmother’s bracelet again, when your hands are leaving her skin

She feels cold immediately, even with the sun beating down on her neck

But then you start walking around, hunting for her lost jewelry with a focus unlike anything she’s ever seen, and the thought of you helping her when she’s been basically nothing but unkind makes her feel awful

Her tears get a new kick to them, clogging up her chest and making her sick to her stomach, when you’re calling out from across the beach

You rush over from Elliott’s shack, and she sees her bracelet glittering between your fingers as you hold it out 

“Is this it?”

She doesn’t bother with a verbal response, grabbing the bracelet tightly in her own hand and flinging her arms around your shoulders to hug you close

She doesn’t think she’s imagining the blush on your face as you help her put the bracelet back on, and the way you hold her wrist before pulling away makes her burn

After that moment, she’s always noticing things about you

The little things you do that show how much you care for other people, how kind and compassionate you are—the way you have everyone wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it

She knows that’s not true, though—she knows that you can tell the effect you have on people, but she’s struck dumb by the fact that you never use that against them

You’re never manipulative, never inconsiderate, never anything but good and kind and she’s so fucking insecure because she’s always been bratty and selfish and shallow and there’s no way someone like you would ever like her back—Oh.

She wants you, but doesn’t think she deserves to, given how she treats people

She’s never really been one to wallow, though, so she springs to action immediately

She goes through her closet and donates half of her wardrobe, she starts doing her part to keep the house tidy, she smiles and waves at anyone she passes in town—she’s even started hanging out with Emily, and she’s having fun

After a few weeks, she realizes that now she’s motivated more by her relationships flourishing, instead of trying to impress you

But she can tell it’s making a difference with you, too, and that’s a nice plus

Especially when you’re both standing in Marnie’s pens, taking pictures with the cows, and you’re so gentle with her after she gets bucked off

You insist on walking her home, carrying her camera equipment for her and watching her closely for any discomfort or limping

She’s never felt so cared for, and she can’t think of anything else while she’s washing the mud off of herself

But you don’t ask her out until a little while later, probably sometime in Winter 2

You go into her house, and Emily sees the bouquet first, immediately knowing what it’s for and all but shoving you in the direction of the kitchen

Haley’s standing at the counter, making herself some peppermint coffee in her sleep clothes yes i’m bitter it’s not an in game item shut up, and maybe it’s not as romantic as you wanted it to be, but she just looks so cute and cozy that you ask anyway

She says yes, of course, and she can’t stop smiling long enough to drink her coffee, even after you’re gone and the flowers are sitting proudly on her vanity

Leah

Leah’s world isn’t really affected all that much when you show up in Pelican Town

She’s excited to see what you do with the farmlands, and she wouldn’t be opposed to having another friend besides Elliott, but she’s not going to bust her ass to make friends with you

She’s got bills to pay on an artist’s salary, and her days are filled with foraging and working on her art, so she busy

But the first time she meets you is when she’s walking to the spring onion patch for some late morning foraging

When she arrives, she’s disappointed to find that you’re already there, yanking the last of the spring onions out of the ground

Most of her money goes into paying her bills, so her diet mainly consists of food she’s foraged in Cindersap or around the valley

She depends a little too heavily on the onions during spring, so if there’s someone else in the valley who forages for food besides Linus, she’s got to rework her schedule to make sure she gets enough to eat

She’s in the middle of asking what you did before moving to Pelican Town when you pull a face and start digging through your bag

And then you’re dropping five of the largest ones into her basket

She’s surprised by it, and her gut reaction is to tell you ‘oh, you didn’t have to do that, I could’ve found something else’—but you’re not having any of it

You’re waving goodbye and traipsing off towards the tower, the sun beating down and making you gleam like gold

She shakes it off and walks home, caught off guard by how readily kind you are to someone you only just met

And your kindness doesn’t stop there

Sometimes she doesn’t have time between her art projects to go look for anything in Cindersap, so you take it upon yourself to get things for her too

And the only reason you overhear her heated phone conversation with Kel is because you’re dropping off forage for her

She starts doing the same for you, when your farm really takes off

She’s blown away by how much progress you’ve made, and she’s honestly a little jealous, but she can’t find it in herself to be bitter because you’re so wonderful all the time

Someone like you deserves a nice life like that, you know?

She’s inspired by you and your kindness, so much that she carves a sculpture for you

She doesn’t realize she has feelings for you when you display her sculpture on your porch, even though the feeling in her chest is overwhelming and fluttery

The moment she pieces everything together, it’s your fault

She’s trying to reach a fruit high up in the cherry blossom tree, already breathless from her continued efforts, when you appear out of thin air and scare the living daylights out of her

She looks up at the fruit longingly, and maybe if she jumps off of the trunk she can reach a little higher—

You lift her up like she weighs nothing, smiling kindly as she looks down at you in surprise

She’s sitting on your shoulder, your hands supporting her under her boots, and she plucks the fruit from the branch with a few twists

You let her down, snorting dryly when she comments on your strength, and she quickly uses her whittling knife to carve off a piece of the fruit for you

She holds it out for you to take, but you glance down at your hands with a frown

You got dirt on them from her shoes when you lifted her up, and you’re not totally jazzed at the idea of eating mud and dirt with your fruit

She thinks maybe you’ll stick your hands in the pond to rinse them off, but nope.

She blushes furiously when you lean forward and take the fruit into your mouth, straight out of her hand

Your lips brush her fingertips, and she gasps at the contact

You swallow and smile, and then you’re shrugging your backpack on and walking away like you totally didn’t just flip her world upside down and turn it inside out

It’s all she can think about from then on, no matter what you’re talking about or how brief your interactions are

She tries her best not to let it show, but it’s hard when you’re all she can think about, and all she wants to do is kiss those god awful lips of yours

She invites you to her art show in town, and you show up all dressed up for the occasion, with a glitter in your eyes she’s never seen before

Encouraging her once again, and for fucks’ sake would you please stop looking at her like that???? She’s about to give a speech to the whole town, she’s already nervous!

The show goes well—her sculptures were all sold, and Mayor Lewis even commissioned her for a Pelican Statue to put in the town square

Life’s going better than it has in a long time; her bills will be paid, and her confidence is through the roof

You’re walking her home after the show when you daringly thread your hands together

She looks at you in surprise, transfixed by the steady blush creeping down your neck and up to the tips of your ears

She squeezes your hand, a blush of her own spreading over her face that doesn’t go away even after you drop her off

She flops into bed with a dopey grin on her face, giggling uncontrollably and kicking her feet and holy fuck, she’s in her late twenties, why is she so giddy over holding hands???

It’s embarrassing, but no one is here with her anyway, so who cares?

You like her too.

You like her too.

Emily

She’s practically foaming at the mouth to meet you LMFAO

She had a dream about a new farmer moving into Pelican Town a month before you even quit at Joja

So when the townspeople found out you claimed your grandfather’s farm, Emily was truthfully, impatient as hell

She tried to keep her mind busy so it didn’t occupy her every day, but it got harder to do the closer it got to your arrival date

And she swore there was something different in the air when you stepped off the bus

The egg festival was the first time she spoke to you, and she’s sure it must be destiny that you spoke to her first out of everyone in the square

Right off the bat she knew there was something different about you

The way you carried yourself, and how you looked at the world around you

There was wonder there, like you had only just started living

She got the opportunity to know why when you visited the saloon one night

It was slow, and she was busying herself by wiping out a few wine glasses when you walked in, fresh out of the mines

You looked worse for wear, but when she asked if you were alright, your mood was overwhelmingly positive

Exploring the mines was easier than working at Joja at least—or so you claimed

Given how often she hears about people feeling stuck and stagnant, she’s glad at least one person in Pelican Town is taking charge of their life and trying to be happy

But the longer you’re in the valley, the better everyone’s lives seem to be going

Pam has her job back again, the minecarts are working, and then the community center is up and running—all thanks to you

She finally understands why she was having dreams before you ever showed up when the Joja Mart closes down and gets remodeled into a gorgeous movie theater a few weeks later

Everywhere you go good fortune seems to follow—the trees sway toward you, the water calms in your presence, and the wind blows a little gentler, and now the community is finally rid of that terrible corporation’s presence

When she finally realizes that she likes you, there’s no catalyst—no special moment or anything

You’re not even there when it clicks

She’s in her room, sewing a new dress for Haley for Feast of the Winter Star Christmas, and her train of thought wanders to you

She thinks of the dreams, of your influence over the townspeople, over the flora and fauna, and she knows that it was destiny for you to move to Pelican Town and fix everything

But then she sets that aside, and thinks about you

Just you

The way you look after a day out in your fields, the sound of your laugh, the dedication you show in everything you do, and the compassion and thoughtfulness of your actions

Even when you’re not fixing up the town, or dropping off gifts to some townie or another, you’re a bright spot in the middle of the gloom—the eye of the storm

You’re safe, and she gets teared up thinking about you

She likes you so much

She’s immediately abandoning the dress in favor of busting out her tarot cards, because now she has to know for sure

Is it a waste of time? Is it for her to decide? Is it destiny?

She doesn’t know, and she needs to find out before it drives her insane, and then The Lovers and Two of Cups fall out of her deck

She’s confident that the universe is pointing her in your direction, and she’s not going to ignore those signs any longer

She’s on her way to Pierre’s, coin purse in hand and jingling with the gold she needs to seal her future with you, when you run smack into each other outside of her house

You both stumble, but while you right yourself without issue, she falls backward

You catch her just in time and drag her back to her feet, apologizing profusely for knocking her down, and seeing you in front of her with your arms carefully looped around her waist, well

She confesses on the spot

It’s awkward, she’s stuttering the whole time, and you’re wide eyed in surprise as she stumbles over her words

Eventually she trails off, her cheeks as red as her dress, when you smile softly, and hold up a bouquet

She didn’t even notice it in your hands, but seeing it now, how could she have possibly missed it?????

A little bummed that you bought the bouquet first, but then again, this is the universe we’re talking about, she can’t complain about its methods

Certainly not when you’re carefully kissing her cheek and placing the flowers in her hands

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Secret Santa Snippet!

This snippet is a secret Santa gift for @gingerly-writing ! I hope you like it, Ginger! Your request was super fun, I hope I did it justice!

It started out as a normal work relationship. Supervillain would work in the shadows while Hero tried to undermine them from outside. But eventually Supervillain stopped sending villains and henchmen and started showing up to fights themselves. Now, Hero was narrowly dodging balls of electricity while simultaneously sending out their own ice beams.

“You won’t get away with whatever it is you’re planning,” Hero shouted across the warehouse, “I’ll make sure of it!”

Hero sent throwing stars made of ice in Supervillain’s direction, which Supervillain destroyed with carefully aimed electric bolts.

“My dear little Hero,” Supervillain said, seemingly unbothered by Hero’s threat, “whatever do you think I’m planning that’s got you so worked up? Global destruction? The collapse of society as we know it?”

“Well, yes!” Hero said, “what else could you be up to?”

As they were speaking, Supervillain had slowly been closing the distance between them and Hero. Now, Hero had been backed into a wall, with Supervillain mere inches from their face.

“Have you ever considered that I’ve merely been trying to get your attention?” Supervillain asked.

Hero froze.

“W-what?”

“I’ve been watching you for some time, Hero, and I must say, you’re quite the distracting little thing. It started as mere surveillance, making sure you weren’t a threat to my plans. But then… then, all my plans fizzled out as you became the only thing I could think about. I stopped sending my subordinates out to fight you, you’re mine to fight and mine alone. Let’s just say, I’ve become infatuated with you, and I intend to make you mine.”

Hero felt fear twist in the pit of their stomach. Suddenly the threat of global destruction or the collapse of society seemed a lot easier to deal with.

“I’ll give you some time to put your affairs in order,” Supervillain said, “after that, you’ll be coming with me.”

“Excuse me?” Hero blurted, “no- I, I’m not coming with you! I’m not yours to have!”

“One week should be ample time to let things sink in,” Supervillain continued, ignoring Hero’s protests, “until then, little Hero.”

Supervillain put a hand on Hero’s shoulder, letting electricity flow from their body into Hero’s. Hero cried out and fell to the ground. Their eyes fluttered shut. When they came to, Supervillain was gone.

…

One week later

Bolts of lightning shot down from the sky all over the city, catching buildings and trees on fire and causing outages on across the power grid. In the center of it all, a figure stood over another on a rooftop.

“Accept that you’re mine, and all of this stops,” Supervillain said softly.

Hero tried and failed to push themselves off the ground. They crashed back down on the rooftop, tears springing into their eyes.

“I’m not yours,” Hero bit out.

Supervillain chuckled, like a parent patiently trying to explain something obvious to their child. The storm only grew stronger as they summoned another bolt of lightning right toward Hero. Hero screamed as the electricity rippled through them.

“Please, please stop,” Hero whimpered.

Supervillain crouched down to Hero’s level and petted their hair lovingly.

“Only you can make it stop,” Supervillain whispered.

Supervillain shot another weak stream of electricity through Hero’s body. Hero cried out as their body convulsed on the ground.

“Alright!” Hero sobbed, “Alright, I’ll come with you.”

“Good Hero,” Supervillain said.

Supervillain picked Hero up as though they were the most fragile thing in the world, and carried them bridal style off the rooftop and into the city sky. As soon as Hero was in their arms, the lightning across the city ceased to strike.

…

Supervillain landed inside their lair, Hero still in their arms. The ceiling closed over them as their feet touched the ground. They carried Hero down several hallways until they reached a large, modern-looking bedroom. They laid Hero down on the bed.

“Now, little Hero,” Supervillain said, pulling off their gloves, “I hope you realize that I except total and complete surrender from you if you want to keep your city safe. We’re going to have to establish some ground rules.”

“G-ground rules?” Hero asked, still twitching from residual electricity.

“Mhm,” Supervillain said, “for instance: you’re free to roam the grounds at your leisure, but if you want to leave my lair, you’ll have to be accompanied by me.”

“But-”

“The next rule is you are not to use your powers against me, is that clear? I don’t fancy becoming an ice sculpture in my own home.”

Supervillain tucked a strand of hair behind Hero’s ear.

“I think you’ll become accustomed to living here soon enough,” Supervillain said, “in fact, I daresay you’ll enjoy your new way of life. Anything you want, within reason, name it, and its yours. You’ll never have to work a day in your life again. All you have to do is be mine.”

Hero looked out the window at the city outside. Some buildings were partially destroyed from Supervillain’s lightning, and firefighters were still putting out the blazes on the trees. It would only get worse if Hero fought. So, Hero became Supervillain’s, and the city was finally at peace.

Tags: @gingerly-writing @mythixmagic @princessofonwardsworld @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @valiantphantomangel @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Live-In

Masterlist

Warnings: noncon, housewife kink, fear, postpartum depression, abuse, scary Clark

Even though it’s a drabble, I do appreciate any comments and feedback you have. Thanks for reading!

👗👗👗

“She’s such a sweet baby,” Laney’s voice carries down the hall as you tenderly touch your cunt. Clark’s been waiting jist for this, plotting, you feel all the pent up tension in your muscles. “I think this is gonna work out well.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Clark answers, “you’re so good with her.”

“Mhmm,” she hums as you pull on your nightgown, the fabric tight across your stomach and tits. A fat cow. “I should probably get going. It’s late and she’s sleeping.”

“She likes you,” Clark ignores her, his tone even. You know that trick, deflecting but calm. The kind of response that makes you feel crazy to protest. “As you saw, my wife has been… having some troubles since the birth. It’s a big change.”

“I understand, but I hope I can help with that. She seems so nice, to, Mr. Kent,” she replies and you hear the shift of weight, padding footsteps, “excuse me, I’m just going to grab my bag–”

“Why?” He asks.

Silence, then her trilling laughter, “well, Mr. Kent, I gotta catch the bus and get home–”

“Home?” He repeats and gives a chuckle of his own, superior and taunting, “you’re already there.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Kent but really, I should–”

“You can go if you can make me move…” his deep voice rolls like thunder and you freeze. Is he crazy?

You rush out into the hall. That poor girl must be terrified. Like you were. Like you still are.

“Oh, I told you, honey, that joke isn’t funny,” you come out with sickly tweet, “Laney, he’s just playing around–”

“You know I’m not,” Clark snarls, “go back to the room.”

“What–” Laney blinks and fumbles with her bag, plunging her hand into it, “I’m calling the— where’s my phone? Oh my god–”

“Now, don’t go making a scene. You’ll only waste your own energy.”

“Helpppppp!” She screams and at once Martha mimics her, awaking with a shrill shriek, “help–”

“Who’s going to hear you, sweetheart?” Clark grabs her by the throat and silences her, “it’s okay. We got a spare bed for you, right next to the nursery so you can check on the baby when she cries.”

“Clark,” you hurry forward as Laney sniffles and snorts, trying to breathe as she sobs, “please, let her go–”

You grab his arm and he easily flings you away. You hit the wall and slide down to your ass at the harsh impact that knocks the air from you. You cough as you look up at him, his eyes glowing red as her hand bounces helplessly off his bicep.

“Don’t hurt her,” you pull yourself to your knees and crawl towards him, “please, I’ll take care of the baby, please–”

“You’ll go back to the bed and wait for me,” he demands, “and she’ll go calm the baby. You will both do exactly what you’re supposed to.”

“Mr…” Laney gurgles, “Mr. Kent…” he lifts his chin as he looks at her, the veins in his face burning red beneath the flesh as his eyes glow, “let me get Martha, she’s upset.”

He shakes and slowly releases her. She gasps and sucks in air as she staggers back and touches her throat. She looks at you and you give a helpless frown, lowering your gaze guiltily. You can’t and won’t help her. You’re both trapped.

“Come on,” Clark approaches you and grips the back of your neck as he makes you stand, “I thought you knew better, honey, but you’re just the dumb girl you always were.”

[its-jaytothemee]

Until I Met You - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: All Burns Heal

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 4,865

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav comforts Karlach after she's recovered from her burns. The group learns that another gnome may have been left behind and must decide if they can go back to Grymforge and save them. Part 17 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Very dialogue heavy chapter incoming, but half of it is fun and sweet Karlach & Tav fluff <3 Getting ever closer to the end of act 1! Another update should be coming within the next couple of days. Thanks as always for the kind words and your continued reading! <3

Tav made a quick change of clothes in her tent before heading over to Karlach’s. She found Wyll sitting there beside her, Karlach’s back turned to the rest of camp, and she could hear some soft sniffles.

“Karlach?” She called out with no response. Wyll whispered something unintelligible before standing up to greet her.

“Glad to see you doing better.” He clapped her on the shoulder.

“Thanks. How is she?”

Wyll looked over his shoulder to their friend, still curled up on the ground and facing away from them. “Her wounds are healed, but she feels awful, Tav.”

“I know she does.” Tav sighed. “Do you think she’s ready to talk?”

“Isn’t she always?” Wyll chuckled. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit.” He gave Karlach one last look and Tav could have sworn she saw a bit of longing in his one good eye.

“Karlach, love? Can you talk to me?”

“I…” Her soft sobs made it hard to understand what she was saying. “I’m so sorry, Tav.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, Karlach.” Tav kept her voice low and gentle as she sat on the other side of her. “You didn’t make me touch you, I chose to on my own. I wasn’t going to let you die in agony on the floor in front of me.”

“This stupid fucking engine!” Karlach cried. “If I get hurt too bad, you guys can’t even get me out without nearly killing yourselves. I hate that you have to make that choice.”

“For what it’s worth,” Tav grabbed Clive who was sitting on the ground nearby, “I’d make the same choice again.”

She turned around to face her at that.

“You would?”

“Every damn time.” She took Clive’s snout and used it to give Karlach a kiss on the cheek. “You’re my best girl.”

“Really?” She sniffled as she took the stuffed bear into her arms.

“Really, really. We’re going to find a way to get that thing fixed, Karlach. And I’m going to make sure you survive long enough for us to find it.” Tav promised.

“Gods I want to hug you right now.”

“I’m counting down the days, my friend. You’ll just have to keep hugging Clive until then.”

Karlach finally sat up next to her.

“Thank you, Tav.” She said quietly as she clutched the small bear to her chest. “You didn’t have to do that. But I’m glad you did, soldier.”

“Anytime, love.”

And she meant it. With a choice between suffering horrible burns and watching Karlach die, it was no choice at all, really. She would do it one hundred times over to make sure her friend lived.

“Lemme see your neck.” Karlach scooted a little closer to her. Tav leaned forward to show the spot where she had been burnt before. “Huh, I can’t even tell where the burn was now. Halsin did good.”

“I figured it would be fine. If he could practically regrow my leg after our first time in the Underdark, a burn must have been nothing.” Tav chuckled as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“I mean if anything, the burns give you an excuse to spend some time with him, eh?” Karlach pumped her eyebrows up and down at Tav, causing another laugh from her.

“I think we get plenty of time together while the rest of you are sleeping. Common quirk of us elves.” She started absentmindedly drawing shapes in the dirt near her feet.

“Oh? I haven’t heard much about this yet. Spill the beans, sister!” Karlach pulled a pillow out from behind her and put it underneath her elbows so she could lay down on her stomach and look up at Tav.

“Well, we have been a bit busy lately, and you’ve been going to bed awfully early.”

“Yeah well, I’m awake now. Spill!” Karlach urged.

“Okay, fine.” She would be lying if she said she hadn’t missed gossiping a bit with Karlach. Tav laid down and propped her own elbows on one of Karlach’s spare pillows to face her.

How does she have so many?

She started to fill her friend in on the past few mornings of conversations between her and Halsin, starting with the glowing pond he showed her.

“I’m sorry, he took you to a glowing pond, you kissed him, he told you he thought that you were beautiful, and you didn’t tell me?!” Karlach yelled.

“For fucks’ sake, Karlach!” Tav laughed. “Keep it down at least a little. And it was just a friendly kiss on the cheek.”

“Oh please, as slow as you’ve been moving you may has well have ripped off his clothes then and there!” The volume of her voice didn’t change in the slightest.

Tav buried her face in the pillow beneath her, letting her feet that were kicking behind her fall to the ground.

“So, what now, you’re just ignoring that little intimate encounter?” Karlach asked.

“I’m not ignoring it.” The words were muffled by the pillow smothering her face.

“Then what gives?” She wiggled the pillow underneath Tav’s head causing her to look up from her hiding place.

“It’s like I told you back when we were camping in the Mountain Pass. I just can’t quite figure him out. He goes from telling me I’m beautiful to panicking over me holding his hand. There’s something there but it’s…blocked.”

“Want me to set him straight?”

“Gods no.” Tav begged.

“Okay, okay. I’ll let you guys figure it out or whatever.” Karlach rolled her eyes playfully. “Tell you what, if you need an excuse to get close to him though I can always give you a friendly pat. You know, give you an excuse to go for a little healing.” She gave an exaggerated wink.

Tav let out a snorting laugh. “So that might not be the best idea…” She could feel the blush from earlier returning to her face and chest.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, first of all it was rather painful. Second…he uh…he called me a ‘good lass’ and I nearly passed out.” Tav turned away as her face reddened further, Karlach’s hyena cackle wasn’t helping with the embarrassment.

“Oh, my gods…oh my…Ha!” She couldn’t even talk she was laughing so hard, her fists hitting the ground as she worked through her fit of laughter. “You’re one of those girls, huh? Give you a little praise and you melt into a puddle?”

“I hate you.” Tav shoved her face back into the pillow.

“No, Tav. I think it’s sweet.” She wiped the joyful tears from her eyes.

“What’s sweet?”

Karlach and Tav both screamed in alarm as another voice had joined their conversation. They looked to their side to see Astarion laying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows to match them, a sly grin on his face.

“How are you so quiet?” Tav’s heart pounded against her ribs.

“One of the few perks of being a vampire. Now what are you two talking about? You’re not gossiping without me, are you?” He stuck his lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Nothing important, love.” Tav tried to shoot a sneaky look at Karlach to keep her mouth shut.

“Fucking liar.” Astarion shot back. “Give me one of those pillows, darling.” He pointed to the small pile behind Karlach and she happily obliged.

“Tav kissed Halsin.” Karlach blurted out.

“Oh? Is that why he was such a flustered mess the other day.” Astarion giggled as he slipped the pillow beneath his arms.

“It was just a quick peck on the cheek, it wasn’t that big of a deal!” Tav glared at Karlach.

“If you say so. You left him in quite a state that morning after…” Astarion trailed off.

“The morning after you drank the blood of some unidentifiable monstrosity and came stumbling into camp drunk as a sailor?” Tav batted her eyelashes at him.

They locked their eyes in a stare down, each waiting for the other to blink. Astarion won, of course.

Damn vampires.

“So, you and the druid…” Astarion’s smug grin was still shining on his face.

Before Tav could make a snarky comment back at him, their conversation was interrupted by Gale.

“Sorry to interrupt your little slumber party,” he had his arms folded across his chest, “but the gnomes from Grymforge are ready to speak with you.”

“Don’t be jealous, Gale.” Astarion giggled as Tav stood back up.

“I’m not jealous.” Gale replied, obviously jealous.

“Don’t worry, Gale. Next time we decide to have a little gossip session, we’ll make sure to invite you too. That make you feel better?” Karlach offered.

“…yes.” He muttered.

Tav couldn’t help but smile as she walked away to talk with their newly free gnome friends. A gnome in a red tunic, Beldron, approached her first.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet us here. We had some rather grave injuries that needed tending.” Tav held a hand out for him to shake.

“The least we could do, I suppose.” He gave her hand a couple of curt shakes. “Gaerdal Ironhand you may not be, but you damn well fight like him.” She smiled back at him.

“Why would a True Soul free slaves? I’m grateful, don’t mistake me, but…”

“The cult thinks they own me. I beg to differ.” Tav shrugged.

“Hurry it up! We need to find Wulbren – now.” Barcus was trying to sound commanding, but the nervous edge to his voice undercut any authority he hoped to project.

“You’re too late, Barcus. He’s already been sent to Moonrise Towers. He…knows things. Things they’ll want to know too.” Beldron’s slight waver as he eyed her from the side told Tav that he knew more than he was letting on.

“This is no time to be coy. What does Wulbren know?” Tav knelt to look Beldron in the eyes. “Whatever the cult wants, whatever those slavers wanted, I can almost guarantee that I want the opposite.”

He considered her words for a moment before responding. “Fine. Wulbren has found the formula for runepowder.”

“What?!” Barcus yelled back.

“Aye. A fistful of the powder could wipe out half an army if the stories were to be believed. But Wulbren thought those were more than legend, so he went and actually found it.” Beldron’s excitement was palpable in his way of speaking. “He had just made sense of the old manuscript when the cult jumped us – so he burned the damn thing.”

“So, if the cult wants to know how to make runepowder…” Tav started.

“Then they’ll have to pry it from Wulbren’s head.” Beldron finished.

Tav shuddered to think of what the cult could do with such a terrible explosive. A weapon of such mass destruction could hardly be trusted in the hands of those with the best intentions, let alone those who served a mind flayer cult.

“Then we’ll have to get to him first. We’ll be leaving for Moonrise the day after next, we could travel together and find him.” She offered.

“My people can barely stand. And we have business in the city, we can’t lose time chasing after false hopes.”

“And just like that, you’d leave Wulbren behind?” Barcus interjected, the hurt look on his face twisting his expression. “I knew you lot were foolish, but I didn’t think you were cruel.”

“If you knew half as much as you think, Barcus, Wulbren might have kept you around.” Beldron snapped back.

The two gnomes continued to bicker in front of her about their next steps. Beldron was adamant that they needed to leave for Baldur’s Gate, Barcus held his ground that Wulbren should be their priority.

“Enough, this fighting won’t help anyone.” Tav rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Our path will take us to Moonrise, I’ll do what I can to free him if he’s still alive. Thulla is waiting in a nearby colony of myconids, we can escort you there so you can take your leave when you’re ready.”

“Wulbren would admire your resolve. Should you find yourself in Baldur’s Gate, seek us out.” He gave a small nod before walking away to join the others.

If I find myself in Baldur’s Gate again, I’ll have need of all the friends I can get.

“Done me a decent turn again. It was most amusing watching you wallop those greylings.” Barcus remained standing at her side.

“It was nothing.” Tav tried to muster a smile to reassure him. “How did you find yourself captured by duergar since our last meeting?”

“I came down here looking for Wulbren. I suspected he and his little friends might’ve come to this region, and I was right.” Barcus shook his head lightly. “But I was too late. Wulbren had already been taken to Moonrise Towers. The rest you saw had been put to work.”

Tav nodded along as she listened, sensing something else troubling the skittish gnome. He shifted in place as his eyes darted to the other gnomes just out of earshot.

“What’s on your mind, Barcus?” She asked, keeping her voice quiet.

“These other gnomes, they call themselves ‘Ironhand Gnomes.’ You won’t find a worse gaggle of rare-do-wells than them.” His voice was a nervous whisper, keeping an eye on the others to make sure they wouldn’t hear.

Tav glanced over at the others as well. Barcus saw a group of ruffians where she saw a battered and exhausted group of gnomes.

“They’re desperate to recreate that runepowder, to bring ‘glory’ back to our people. They’ll stop at nothing and wait for no one to achieve their goals. You see the extent of their loyalty. They’re not even going after him. I wish I were surprised.” Barcus shot a glare at Beldron and the other gnomes. “And so…to Moonrise Towers I go.”

His sudden resolve startled Tav, but she still caught the hint of uncertainty that clouded his tone.

“First things first – you’re exhausted. You should stay here and rest. We can travel to Moonrise together.” Tav gestured back at their camp.

“Certainly not!” He took a step back in offense. “My friend has been taken captive. He needs me.”

“Come now, this is no place to travel alone, the land around Moonrise is even more dangerous. I don’t want to have to rescue you a third time.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Or find out I was too late to rescue you a third time.”

“I was only unlucky twice, slim chance it’ll happen again. Although…” He looked over to where Wyll and Halsin sat by the fire, snacking on a few nuts and dried sausages they had stashed away. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to take a brief moment of respite, let me think.”

Tav waited patiently as Barcus paced back and forth, every now and then letting out a pensive hum as he thought through his options. The fatigue of the day was already catching up to her despite their short time away from camp.

“Very well, I suppose if you’re going to Moonrise anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to have some company.”

“Glad to hear it. Find a spot, settle in. We’ll only be down here a couple more nights.” He seemed to relax a bit, but his eyes still darted around him.

“Is there something else?”

“I think one last gnome was left behind.” Barcus wrung his hands as he spoke with her.

“We still have some exploring to do, we can look for them.” Tav assured him.

“It would be most appreciated. His name is Skickpit, he wasn’t mining with the rest of us.”

“We’ll make our way back and find him.” Tav stood back up.

“That is most kind of you. Now, I think I’ll have a seat for a moment. It’s quite nice to not be surrounded by lava.” Barcus took a few steps toward the fire before turning to look back. “And, erm…thank you.”

Tav nodded back and followed him over to the fire to speak with Wyll and Halsin. If one of the gnome slaves had been left behind, she wasn’t going to leave them there to be tortured alone.

“What’s the word, Tav?” Wyll was finishing up his midday snack.

“One of the gnomes was left behind, he wasn’t mining with the others. I think we should go back and get him.”

“Today?” The concern in Halsin’s voice was obvious.

“I mean, we still have plenty of daylight, er, daytime…” She furrowed her brow. “Whatever you want to call it down here.”

“And you were just half dragged back to camp an hour ago, my friend.” Halsin countered, his voice ever gentle, yet firm.

“That was my own fault for touching Karlach. We took care of the duergar and Nere easily enough, getting one more gnome out should be no trouble at all.”

“If that’s true, then I’m sure the others could manage without you so you can rest.” Halsin still insisted.

“I don’t need to rest, you got me all healed up.” Tav was smiling, but her words came out through gritted teeth.

“You said your magic is spent for the day.”

“Yeah? And do you think I carry this bow around just for show?”

He just pursed his lips in response, those smoldering eyes trying to burn into her soul. Despite how weak it made her knees feel, she held his gaze.

Wyll cleared his throat, startling them out of their staring contest.

“I can’t help but agree with Tav. If the other duergar there catch wind of our little fight, that lone gnome could pay a heavy price.” His eyes shifted uneasily between the two elves as they exchanged their concerned glares.

“Exactly, thank you Wyll.” Tav crossed her arms. “I won’t let a slave we left behind pay for our attack.”

“Of course, forgive me.” Halsin stood up and gave her his typical fisted salute over his chest before walking away from them, sending a stab of guilt through her gut.

She had really thought he would understand. Surely Halsin of all people wouldn’t want them to leave someone behind in slavery, to be left as the sole bearer of retribution for the others’ escape?

“Would you see if Karlach will stay here? I don’t think we want to risk another incident with her engine.”

“Sure thing, shouldn’t take too much convincing.” Wyll slapped his knees as he stood up. “Perhaps we should split up. Leave a couple of people here to deliver Nere’s head while the rest re-infiltrate Grymforge?”

“Good plan. I’ll go get ready.” She had to go find her armor and load back up on potions and–

“Tav?”

She spun around to look at him again.

“You know no one here doubts your skills, right? Even so, sometimes we…worry about you. We can’t help it. Just as I’m sure you worry about us.” His eyes glanced at Halsin who was kneeling over his bag not far away, fighting to keep Scratch’s nose out of a pack of herbs.

“I know. It’s just…” She let out a frustrated grunt. Dealing with this underground slave ring was taking a toll on her, but she couldn’t tell them why. Not yet.

It was all getting to be too much. The tadpoles. Her family coming back to haunt her. Each new friend that had a long list of ailments and problems. Every day was two steps forward, one step back. Slowing their progress and gnawing endlessly at her subconscious.

“Do you ever feel that no matter how much good we do, no matter how much evil we see come to light, it really does feel as if it’s all for nothing? You said you’ve lived what, two hundred years? I’d wager that it would take some days for the two of us to recount the good deeds we’ve done yet it still feels like it’s but a drop of rain in the sea.” The sudden change in Wyll’s tone snapped her out of her spiral.

More from you than me I’m afraid.

“Yes.”

He gave a forlorn nod, averting his eyes to the ground.

“It’s easy to think that way when we spend so much of our lives fighting those evils. People like us don’t get breaks. We don’t get time to recover. We just keep pushing forward. But today?” She walked over to place a hand on his arm. “Today, we can see here in front of us the lives that we’ve changed for the better. And we know there’s one more that needs us.”

“It’s not just the gnomes here today that have you to thank.” Tav jumped as Halsin reappeared behind her. “You forget that I too would have met my demise if not for your kindness and bravery. Not to mention countless tieflings and druids at the Emerald Grove. Wyll, I want to be able to tell you that the weight upon your shoulders becomes lighter as time goes on but…” He trailed off to look at Tav again.

“Sometimes the best we can hope for instead is to find someone else willing to help bear it alongside us.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I’ve found so many broad-shouldered friends.” Wyll’s dashing smile had returned at Halsin’s reassurance.

“What can I say? I’m happy to help where I can.”

“Thank you. Both of you.” He gave another small nod before running off toward the others.

“Sometimes I forget how young he is, even by human standards.” Tav watched as he jogged up to Karlach’s tent, where Gale had taken her place on the ground.

Oh gods, what are they talking about now?

“He’s right, you know.” Halsin rubbed the back of his neck before running the hand through his hair. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“We do worry about you.” He paused. “I…worry about you.”

“I know.” A small smile pulled at her lips.

“I don’t want to stop you from doing what you think is right. I just have a difficult time seeing you return in such a state is all.” He shifted nervously in place.

“And yet, I’m more comfortable putting myself in danger when I know I have you waiting here to help me.”

“Always.” He whispered the word, almost as if he didn’t mean to speak it aloud.

For a moment, the air between them was charged again. Unspoken, crackling desire pulsing to the same rhythm as their heartbeats. She almost dared not touch him, worried that it would send another spark to tease the fire always burning low in her stomach. But he reached out anyway.

The familiar feel of his arm around her shoulders as he pulled her into a hug caused an involuntary sigh.

“Please don’t take this old fool’s worries as a distrust of your abilities.” His voice was quiet when he pulled away from her. “Just try to be careful.”

Tav hugged herself back against his side.

“I’ll try.”

***

Tav took off to go and put her armor back on before they left for Grymforge again. Halsin felt a bout of shame rip through him. Once again, his personal feelings trying to cloud decisions being made for the good of the group, for the good of other innocents they were trying to help. Of course she could handle herself, and it was obvious that the others would also protect her. Yet for the second time, he watched as she was dragged back into camp horribly injured and the scene upset him more than he would have expected.

He was a healer, and a skilled one at that. Many of the injuries he had seen and tended to in his long life would churn even the strongest stomachs. But each time Tav was barely able to stumble back into camp whether it be from gashes, burns, or fatigue, the sight caused him to lose all reason and critical thought.

Knowing she was out risking her life each day made it all the more difficult to stay behind in camp. He wanted to help, he wanted to go explore and be by her side to support her. To support all of them. But he knew he couldn’t risk it. He had seen the state of their return on multiple occasions, he knew how many close calls they had already endured.

Regardless of the perils they faced in their daily outings, his priority had to be making it to Moonrise alive. He was the only one who could banish those shadows, Silvanus had made that clear. For now, he had to stay behind for the more dangerous parts of their journey. He had to stay alive and well for Thaniel and everyone touched by that wicked curse. Though little comfort it was to him, he told himself he could at least be here in camp ready to tend to their wounds.

When he looked up, Tav was trotting back over to the rest of them, her hands weaving the thick strands of her hair together behind her head to fix it back into her signature braid.

Wyll and Gale caught Tav and the others up on the items they found on Nere’s body. Astarion claimed a dagger and a pair of boots, while Wyll claimed a rather fine rapier. Tav plucked the mind flayer tadpole that had been harvested into a small vial and stored it away with the others they collected. He wasn’t quite sure why they were keeping them; they had already refused to consume any to further their illithid powers.

Otherwise, there was a good number of valuables on the drow that they could at least sell. One last item seemed to catch Tav’s eye – a broken lantern.

“Have you figured out what left this residue?” She asked the others.

“I haven’t investigated it hardly at all, just pulled it off Nere’s body with the rest of the items.” Gale shrugged before holding out his hand to request the lantern.

He turned the odd contraption over in his hands as he studied the iron frames. One of his fingers drew a line in the dust before pinching the soft powder between his index finger and thumb.

“May I?” Halsin held his hand out as well. He held it up to his nose and lightly inhaled before also rolling a bit of the powder between his fingers. Based on the thin layer of dust inside of it, it didn’t appear to run on oil or even fire. This was more…shimmery? As if ground from pearls. He would have expected to see ash or scorch marks, but instead just that small gathering of powder in the cage. On the few glass panels that weren’t broken, there were grooves on the inside that almost looked like scratch marks.

“Is this…?” Gale hesitated. “Is this pixie dust?”

“By Silvanus…it is pixie dust. Wily little creatures.” He handed the lantern back to Tav. “Why would a drow have been carrying a pixie around in an old lantern?”

“I’ve no clue. We’ll keep an eye out once we go back across the lake.” Tav set the lantern back down.

“That means you’ll have to leave some of the duergar living long enough for us to ask about it, Tav.” Astarion was sitting on the ground next to them, trying on the boots he nabbed from their spoils. She shot a glare back at him in response.

“We can question them first, but regardless we will be leaving with that final captive gnome. If that means we kill the rest of the duergar, so be it.” She spat the words with a particularly vicious venom that caused the others to exchange nervous glances.

Something else was bothering Tav, Halsin was sure of it. The pure vitriol seeping from her when she spoke of the slavers…

The contempt in her voice was such a stark difference from her typical demeanor. She had said her father was a cruel man, could he have been tied to a slavery business? Or gods forbid could she have been part of one herself? A shudder ran though his body, shaking the thoughts away. Best not to let his mind run amok right now.

“Okay, then. Karlach and Wyll are staying here to deliver Nere’s head and escort the gnomes to the myconid colony. The rest of us will go across the lake again. Once we have the area cleared and the last gnome rescued, Gale will set a travel rune so we can bring the rest of you as well.” Tav recounted their plan with effortless clarity while she also checked the tension of her bow and adjusted the straps of her armor. Every time he sat and watched her command the attention of a large group, he found himself in awe of her.

“See you soon, gang!” Karlach waved as they started to make their way past camp then turned to Halsin. “Feel like talking a walk with us, bear man?” She smiled at him as she slung the cloth containing the drow head over her shoulder.

“I’d be happy to.” The myconids were close by, and taking a short walk might help clear his head. But for just the briefest moment, he could have sworn he saw disappointment flash across Wyll’s face.

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 27

I paced up and down the hotel lobby, unable to sit still in my room any longer. They were set to come back tonight, and I had done everything to keep busy: rearranged the infirmary three times, polished my handgun despite never having used it, and even finished reading The Hobbit for the second time. But now, well past midnight, my nerves got the best of me, and I started to bite my nails.

I was about to head upstairs again when I heard a truck stop in front of the hotel. My heart pounded as I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. The door swung open, and I scanned the faces of the commandos, checking for any sign of injury. But no one looked at me. They all stared at their shoes, shuffling past me and heading straight for their rooms.

Then I saw Steve’s face. His eyes were red and tears streamed down his cheeks. He took off his helmet and stepped in front of me, shaking his head. His knees buckled, and he collapsed on the floor, crying, “I lost him. He’s dead, and it’s my fault.” The world spun around me, and I fell to my knees beside him, my ears ringing. This couldn’t be real. I must have fallen asleep and was now trapped in a nightmare. But it was real. Bucky was dead, and nothing would ever be the same.

I waited for the tears to come, but they didn’t. I was frozen, my mind struggling to grasp the enormity of the loss as Steve’s sobs echoed through the empty lobby. I took his hand, and we sat there together, silently enduring the grief until the tears finally stopped, leaving only his shuddering breaths.

I helped him to his room, took off his suit as he stared blankly into space, and sent him to the bathroom to shower. I busied myself tidying the room, but there wasn’t much to do—Steve was always so neat. After he took longer in the shower than I expected, I knocked on the door, announcing that I would come in, but there was no response. I walked in anyway.

Steve stood under the water, motionless, facing the wall. He hadn’t even scrubbed off the dirt. “Hey, Steve, is everything alright?” I asked, the question sounding hollow in the wake of what had happened. He didn’t answer. I stepped closer, unsure of what to do. “Do you need help?” I asked hesitantly. The sight of him naked wasn’t lost on me, and I wondered if he wanted to be alone.

“No, please…” he sobbed, his voice barely audible. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I nodded and slowly undressed down to my underwear, stepping into the shower with him. His back was to me, so I took the washcloth and lathered it with soap, starting to clean his back and arms.

I instructed him to turn around so I could clean his chest. The water was turning cold, so I moved quickly. As I knelt to scrub his legs, he murmured, “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault… I should have listened to you.” The weight of his words was almost too much to bear, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on the fact that Bucky might have still been alive if only Steve had listened.

I rinsed him off, turned off the water, and handed him a towel. I picked out clean clothes from his wardrobe and handed them to him as he sat on the bed, looking up at me with a pleading expression.

“Please say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” I asked, my voice trembling. “That I blame you for Bucky’s death? That you should be sorry? Saying those things won’t bring him back. Nothing will.” My hands shook as I continued, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to dry off.” I turned and fled the room, shutting the door behind me and sliding down the wall to the floor. The tears came then, flowing uncontrollably.

I didn’t leave my room for three days. I drifted in and out of sleep, haunted by nightmares of shadows chasing me and covering me in blood. I would wake up screaming, only to find Steve rushing in, trying to calm me down. Seeing his face only made me angrier, though. I hated myself for making things harder for him when he was suffering too. But blaming him was easier than facing the emptiness inside my chest.

I yelled at him to leave each time he came in, but he kept coming back, rubbing my back until I stopped crying. He looked exhausted, his eyes red and puffy. He must not have slept at all, coming straight to my side whenever I screamed. On the third night, he ignored my protests and decided to stay with me, bringing me food I didn’t touch and reading The Hobbit to me, which only made me cry harder.

On the fourth day, he took my hand, sitting beside me. “We’re going to attack the main base in three days. We’re going for Schmidt directly. I understand if you’re not ready…”

I cut him off, “I’m going with you.”

He didn’t look surprised. That night, we went over the plan. Schmidt was planning to use the Tesseract-powered weapons to conquer the world. With the help of Peggy Carter, Colonel Chester, and his army, Steve would serve as a distraction, allowing us to zipline onto the base unnoticed.

In the days leading up to the mission, Steve spent the nights in my room. Despite my efforts to make him leave and convince him I was fine—as fine as I could be—he stayed. Maybe he didn’t want to be alone either. So I stopped pushing him away. We sat in comfortable silence, each lost in our own thoughts but finding solace in the presence of the other.

We tried to fall asleep back-to-back, our feet brushing against each other, but neither of us moved away. The night before the attack, we lay in bed, our backs touching, sleep elusive. Steve reached for my hand, entwining our fingers, and a shiver ran through me. I turned to find him already facing me, his face showing the toll of sleepless nights. I stroked his hair and face, and he leaned into my touch. He kissed my palm, and the intimacy of the moment overwhelmed me.

I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of soap. A storm of conflicting feelings churned within me. On one hand, I wanted to give in to my desires, but even thinking about them made me sick with guilt. Bucky had been dead for only a week, and here I was in Steve’s arms. The turmoil made me nauseous, and I began to sob uncontrollably.

Steve pulled back, his eyes filled with sadness. “It’s okay. Let’s try to sleep,” he said, gently wiping away my tears. I finally fell asleep after hours of crying, dreaming of our childhood in Brooklyn, lost in a past I could never return to.

When I awoke, Steve was already gone, likely preparing for the mission. I followed suit, donning my suit, holstering my handgun, and sheathing my knife. Anticipation thrummed through my veins. The time for vengeance had come, and I was determined to carve Schmidt’s fate with my own hands. I took one last look at the plush cat Bucky had named Alpine, then stepped out into the hall, letting the fury drive me forward.

Next Chapter

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter 20: The Inevitable

Season One | Season Two | Season Three | Season Four

Raining Hellfire 4: Part Two

Word Count: 5735 words of absolute carnage and despair

Warnings: swearing, (mentions of) death, visions, blood, vivid descriptions of gore (?), i'll be honest i was crying too much to take note so tell me if i missed any

[A/N: This one... this changes everything *sobs uncontrollably*.]

The Inevitable

Everything was dark around you.

The forest was thick, stretched out to make the walk excruciatingly long. But in this time of life and death, it suddenly felt too short.

Your steps matched Robin’s, both of you cautiously avoiding vines. Nancy and Steve walked close behind, breaking into small conversation. Whilst you had started this journey all together, Robin’s anxiety had rushed her steps and you didn’t want her to be alone. Steve seemed to be reluctant about you leaving his side, but the reassuring smile you had sent him must have calmed his nerves and soon enough you could just make out your friends’ silhouettes in the distance.

“Hamburger.” Robin suddenly speaks into the heavy silence and you frown.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“And fries.” She adds, a lovesick smile on her face as you step over a vine.

“Are you having a stroke?”

Robin laughs, shaking her head. “I was just planning my first meal after we get out here.”

“I love the way your brain works.” You sigh and she smirks at you.

“Keep talking like that and you’ll really have to take me to dinner.” She jokes, bumping your shoulder. There’s a strange look flashing on her face before she clears her throat and acts nonchalant. “Speaking of dates… you and Steve, huh?”

You almost trip over the surfaced root of a tree, steadying yourself with a cough.

“Excuse me?”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes, halting to a stop and cocking her head. “You really think I wouldn’t notice when my best friends start getting all lovey-dovey on eachother?”

“Gross.” You comment plainly, heart rate rising, and continuing on through the forest, “And you’re wrong.”

“Ha!” Robin laughs abruptly, shaking her beret-donned head. “You guys think you’ve been so secret with your whispers and hidden touches. I’m clumsy, not blind. You probably talked about it at the RV when I disappeared.”

Your silence tells her all she needs to know and, as her eyes widen, it dawns on you. Once her face breaks into a wide smile, you know you’ve messed up.

“Oh, my, go-” You cut off her squeal with your hand.

“I love you very much but we don’t need any unwanted visitors right now.” You warn and she quickly nods, waiting for you to slowly remove your hand. “Okay?”

“Oh my god.” She whispers with a grin and you couldn’t resist the smile that spread across your face, Robin mockingly shoving your shoulder. “I knew I didn’t prematurely attack you with glitter. You have to tell me everything.”

You send her a look, carefully shifting your glance to the floor to avoid any trips. “Are you sure we should be talking about this right now?”

“It’s the perfect time.” She sighs as you offer her a hand over a bigger vine. “Like, I know we have to be prepared and all but if I think too much about it I’m just gonna curl up and panic so, please, distract me with your adorable boyfriend. If, I can call him that?”

“We…” You start, frowning, “Well, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“We didn’t really discuss it in detail.” You admit, shrugging. Robin simply nods, a worried look on her face as she saw the treeline coming to an end in the distance. “Uh… but we were talking about it, kind of. We decided to talk about it all when we’re back home. Finally gonna give it a shot. No more distractions.”

Her eyes light up, thankful for the clarity, and she grins. “About time.”

“I know, right?” You chuckle, but you still couldn’t help the dreaded feeling in the pit of your stomach, “Hey, Robs?”

“Hm?”

“I know we agreed on talking about anything other than our impending doom, but…” You take a breath and Robin raises an eyebrow, “Do you really think it’s not gonna work out for us this time?”

Robin ponders this for a moment, coming to a stop just before the forest ended, glancing back at where Nancy and Steve almost caught up. “I think… we need to be prepared for anything. Why?”

You open your mouth just as Steve and Nancy step towards you, taking deep breaths in preparation. Any and every conversation was pulled to a halt now. You had a mission.

You didn’t get the chance to explain how ever since you arrived at the trailer park, you’ve felt yourself weaken. You couldn’t tell her how you had a bad feeling everything would go wrong.

You didn’t say how you didn’t think you’d make it out of this alive.

“I’ll be honest…” Robin speaks as you all step away from the trees, staring at the house swarmed by bats, “I totally thought we were going the wrong way.”

You observe the scene, mostly for your own anxiety, and see the faintest hue of an orange light illuminating from the park across the road. It would be a pretty sight if it weren’t for the chittering sounds of hell around you attacking the weakest cranial nerves.

“There.” You point, everyone turning their heads.

“Erica.” Steve confirms, giving you a nod as you all quickly run over to the spot, careful not to draw attention to yourselves.

Once you reach the slide, Steve turns to check everyone is with him, doing a double take when he sees Robin smiling up at him. You tighten your lips.

“What?” He whispers at her and she gives him a shit-eating grin.

“Nothing.” She responds, moving away with a laugh. Steve sends you a questioning look and you simply shake your head.

“We’re here.” Nancy calls out to the glow of Erica’s presence, the light flashing off for a moment to signal understanding.

“Now we wait.” Steve nods and you hold your breath.

Because you were all waiting for Vecna to take the bait, and possess your little sister’s mind.

“She deserves better”

Your head snaps to the figure stood behind you, heartbeat quickening at the sight.

“I thought sisters were meant to protect eachother.” Billy snarls, blood staining his mouth and chin, dripping onto his shirt with each spit of word.

You try to ignore him, turning back around and focusing on the house, your friends oblivious as they stood just in front, eyes on the light from the playhouse.

“Seven years later, and you’re still abandoning her.”

His words were hot against your ear, Billy leaning in and causing a tear drop to fall from your eye. It sent fear-stricken shivers down your spine, paralysing you in the moment.

“And now she’s mine”

You turn your head with wide eyes to see Vecna’s sinister smile vanish into thin air, the cold around you hitting your skin with malicious intent.

...she’s in… phase three…

Erica’s voice snapped you into focus and you shiver the terror you felt. Max had done her part, and it left an aching feeling where your heart should be. Vecna was taunting you with her life and, if you failed, her death.

“She’s in. Move on to Phase Three.” Robin spoke into the radio, sending you a sympathetic smile.

“Copy that. Initiating Phase Three.” Dustin responds and you shake away your nerves.

Eddie and Dustin would be fine. They just need to draw the bats away, and barricade themselves in. As easy as that.

“How do you think they’re gonna distract them?” Robin asks and Nancy shrugs, both girls turning to you.

“Uh… knowing Eddie?” You furrow your brows, eyes drifting to the guitar pick dangling from your chain. “Probably something-”

Suddenly, an echo of electric guitar beats through the air, loud enough to pierce the ear drums of those closest if they weren’t used to the sound, and a smile creeps onto your lips.

“… Metal.” You conclude and Steve frowns, shaking his head. You send a knowing glance, “It’s Master of Puppets. Metallica.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve nods, forehead still creased, “I knew that.”

“Liar.” Nancy smirks, attention drifting away as something catches her eye, “Look, it’s working.”

You all look to the Creel House and, sure enough, the bats start flying towards the noise, screeches haunting the breeze as they left the house unguarded.

“Okay, let’s go.” Steve starts moving towards the entrance, each of you following close behind.

The pounding in your head seems to become louder the closer you come to the house, every part of you screaming to run. The headphones that lay around your neck didn’t provide much comfort.

“Maybe you should wait outside.”

Nancy’s voice caused you stop and turn with a frown, glancing at Steve and Robin still making their way up the path.

“Why?”

“We… we need a lookout.” She shrugs, but her words weren’t convincing.

“Okay, what’s going on?” You ask and she freezes. “You’ve been acting weird about me coming down here with you guys this whole time.”

“I’m worried about Vecna getting into your head. Sorry for being a good friend.” Nancy retorts, moving past you, but you grab her arm.

“No, that’s not it.” You shake your head, stepping closer to her. “I know that’s not it because I know you. And you’re not convincing me. I’m coming with you.”

“No, just stay!” She starts to yell and you raise your eyebrows.

“It’s not your choice.” You sigh, heading up the path to the house.

“You can’t!” She begs and you turn around, exasperated. There was a fear in her eye you hadn’t seen since the Demogorgon attack, the way she had looked at you when you finally came to.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because? I’m gonna need more than a because to stop me from-”

“Because you die!”

Nancy tear-laced eyes stared back at your frozen body, the icy feeling of shock prickling at your blood.

“What?” You eventually whisper out, the quiet tone of your voice sounding foreign to your ears.

“Vecna… he showed me.” Her voice is quiet and trembling, twitches of her head as she tries to shake off the memory. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to believe it, but… if you do this… it’s gonna come true.”

You glance back at the red sky above, taking a deep breath. Every flicker of thunder was fitting with the storm in your mind. You were torn, battling the idea of life and death. Something had to give eventually, you supposed.

She takes your silence as an opportunity to continue. “When we go in there, you and Vecna-”

“Stop.” You interrupt with closed eyes and she frowns. “I don’t wanna know.”

Her face falls. “But-”

“But nothing.” You shrug, lowering your head and stepping closer, placing your hands on her shoulders. “I’m doing this, Nance. Even if I… even if it resorts to that. I don’t need to know how it happens, and there’s a big chance it won’t. But I’m going to do whatever it takes to protect everyone. And there is seriously nothing you could warn me about that is going to stop me from going in there and killing Vecna. Live and succeed... or die trying.”

She wipes away her tears, glancing at where Steve and Robin waited with confused frowns.

“I don’t want to lose you.” She shivered from her own words and you take her hand in yours.

“I need to do this.” You slowly nod, sadness threatening your eyes. “Please, Nance. You have to let me do this.”

She doesn’t reply. Instead, she tightens her grip on your hand and allows you to walk her towards Steve and Robin, head hung low. Even with Nancy’s warning, you weren’t changing your mind. This was as much your fight as it was hers, even more so. For four years you’ve had him in your head, ruining your life. It was time to return the favour.

“We ready?” Steve asks, looking to each of you. Nancy doesn’t speak, dropping your hand to adjust her bag, and Steve’s gaze flickers between you both, sensing some kind of discomfort.

“No.” Robin replies with a shrug and you shake your head.

“Just like knocking on hell’s door.” You comment once Steve pushes the entrance open, a loud creak sending chills down your spine.

Nancy’s words replay in your mind.

You die. You die. You die.

But Vecna hadn’t managed to kill you for four years. What could possibly make this night any different?

Everyone’s eyebrows raised as you looked down at the tangle of vines covering every surface. A maze of nightmares. Steve sends you a look before taking a deep breath, navigating his way through while desperately trying to maintain his balance.

“Shit.”

You move forward when Robin suddenly grabs your hand. Turning back, you notice she’s done the same with Nancy and you squeeze her hand.

“It’s okay.” Nancy comforts, nodding, “You got this.”

“Just one step at a time, right?” You add and Robin takes a deep breath. “Just follow me, okay?”

You let go of her hand and start leading her through the vines, her following suit and only stepping in your invisible footprints.

Steve led you all up the stairs, everyone’s eyes plastered to the ground. One wrong shift of your feet, and it would all be over. You join Steve at the top, glancing behind you to see Robin slowly but surely making her way up the staircase.

In front of you, the blare of red light shone onto a wall, letting you know Vecna was quite literally just around the corner.

“You ready for this?” Steve whispers. When you glance up at him, you notice the scared frown on his face, the tightening of his lips, and you gently squeeze his hand with a nod.

“We stick to the plan.” You whisper back and he lets out a long sigh, looking down at you and meeting your eyes. “Then you can take me out on that date that most definitely won’t be at Skull Rock.”

“There go my weekend plans.” He sighs and you playfully shove his shoulder. When you reluctantly let go of his hand, your fingertips yearn for that warmth again, that safety.

He smiles at your small laugh just as you hear the pants of Robin behind you.

She grabs onto your shoulders to steady herself, breathing quickly and you pat the top of her hands in comfort.

Once Nancy joins you, you swiftly take the flashlight from her hand as she slips the shotgun from her back, preparing herself. Beside you, Steve arms himself with an axe while Robin puts away her light, readying her bag full of chemicals.

“Let’s do this.” Nancy nods, voice steady and you all share looks.

It was now or never.

But, as you look back to the beating crimson glow, your heart stops. Because, in that moment, Lillian stares back at you with a bloodthirsty glare.

“You didn’t think it would be this easy, did you?”

Vecna’s voice blared in your mind, striking a chill down your spine. He was watching you, this entire time. He knew you were coming.

The others step forward and you snap back into reality, reaching out to them.

“Wait-” You start before the ground suddenly shakes so violently, you all crash into eachother.

Everyone holds on for support, desperately attempting to avoid the vines touching their feet from the shivering house. You make sure to grab Robin’s arm, holding her up as Steve does the same. Nancy balances by herself, holding her breath. The rumbling causes the house to crack, dust falling from the ceiling and decorating your hair with the particles.

Soon, to your relief, the ground stills and you all pant, looking to eachother. Nancy’s eyes find yours, questioning.

“Vecna knows.” You breathe out and her blue eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” She asks, Steve frowning.

“I think me coming here was a big mistake.” You admit with a small sob.

“No, it’s okay.” Robin places a hand on your shoulder, “He may know we’re here, but he’s still vulnerable.”

She nods at you until you agree.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re…”

Your voice drifts just as goosebumps lace your skin, quickening your breath. You search the room for what could have caused it, the Mind Flayer obviously alerting you to danger.

“What?” Steve whispers at you as your eyes dart around the space, “What is it?”

“Something’s-” You start before you see it. It’s a slippery movement, barely noticeable.

And you notice it too late.

“Robin!”

You try and pull her away, but the vine has already wrapped around her ankle, pulling her back and throwing her against the wall.

Stumbling back, you watch as the vines continuously wrap around her body, pinning her back, tightening her chest.

“Y/n!” She screams, but you can’t move.

“You should have stayed away”

Vecna taunts just before a loud screech is seared into your brain, making you groan and drop to your knees in pain.

As Nancy attacks the vines wrapping around Robin’s limbs, Steve crouches beside you, searching your face.

“Y/n?!” He panics and you shake your head, hands trembling.

“Robin!” You plead and he tightens the grip on his axe, standing up with reluctance and running over to help.

Nancy and Steve both try and try to break your friend free while your head swarms with stabs of indescribable hurt. You push through it, standing up just as a tingling sensation rests upon your fingertips.

Reaching out your arm, you manage to burst a vine and Steve turns with wide eyes. He didn’t want you to use your power, but you had no choice.

In his moment of distraction, a vine shoots out and wraps around his arm, pulling him back against the wall behind you.

“Steve!” You yell just as one wraps around his throat, pulling him higher up the surface and Nancy turns to look in horror.

It leaves you and Nancy struggling to focus, unsure of how to help your friends, their choked gasps rushing the beating of your hearts.

Her eyes eventually find yours in silent fear before she’s thrown to the ground and you cry out as she joins the others. You focus on the vine attacking her as she struggles against it, another screech from the creature as it bursts.

But another comes after another and you realise you can’t save them.

“No!” You let out a choked sob as your friends are being strangled to death.

You focus your mind, hands outstretched until you can almost hear the familiar whir of dust filling the air around you. Black veins began to taint your skin. Just a second longer, and you would have set them free.

But Vecna had other plans.

“Y/N!” Nancy cries and you freeze, looking down to see dozens of vines below your feet suddenly crawl up your legs.

You give them all one last look, tears lacing your eyes, just as the vines tug you down to the floor.

You can hear their muffled screams as you’re dragged across the ground and towards the beating heart of the Creel House, the restraints throwing you against walls and corners as it pulled you through the building.

Bruises surely lined your body as you’re thrown away, rolling across the ground as you cough, panting for breath.

There’s a moment of fear that numbs your body when you raise your head.

Vecna stares down at you, detaching himself from what you could only assume was his source of power, stepping towards you. You frown. That wasn’t meant to happen.

“I finally figured out how to beat you” He says, the dark voice making you scramble back.

He viciously throws his arm out and suspends you in the air, the force hard enough to almost crush your bones, and you cry out in pain.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

The grip becomes tighter, and you can’t breathe.

“You think I don’t see everything?”

Suddenly, your head is thrown back, burning images in your mind.

“You thought your friends could stop me?”

Nancy, Steve, and Robin, pinned against the walls, crying for air.

Lucas, Jason pointing a gun straight at him.

Max, struggling to escape.

Eddie, prey to the dozens of bats circling him.

“I can feel them dying”

Tears stream down your cheeks. The pain, the fear. It all burned.

“And I know you can, too”

You open your eyes to his tilted head, his milky white eyes glaring into yours.

“After all this time” He begins, stepping closer while you gasp for air, “You underestimate me”

no

He smiles at you as you hear it, the echo of your sister’s whimpers. He had Max at this very moment.

You shake your head. This wasn’t possible. He was meant to-

“Be vulnerable?” He finishes your thought, lowering you to meet his eyes and leaning close, “The only person you made vulnerable… was you”

Your eyes widen and he smirks menacingly at you.

Putting Max in danger, making Eddie and Dustin face the bats, coming here with Steve, Robin and Nancy. All of it was chipping away at your insecurities, the anxiety forming their own undeniable tear of weakness.

You were unknowingly breaking down your shields without even knowing it. That’s why Vecna never tried to stop you. He was the one leading you into a false sense of security.

With the jut of his chin, the headphones around your neck snapped in half, smashing into a pile with your Walkman on the floor.

Closing your eyes, you try to will the Mind Flayer back to you. If you could just summon it, and break free from Vecna, you could save your friends and carry out the original plan. It wouldn’t take much, just a slither of black dust to push you away-

“What are you doing?”

You reluctantly open your eyes to see Lillian smiling at you. Your feet were firmly planted on the floor now, stood in a black void with your dead best friend.

“Not again.” You whimper, searching the darkness for any kind of light.

“What’s wrong?” Lillian asks, her voice just as sweet and innocent as the girl you used to remember. But she wasn’t real.

“What’s wrong?”

Your eyes widen in horror as blood begins to run down her face, half of her skull caving in. She reaches a hand out to you, her limbs shaking and her voice warped with a strangled sound.

“Y/n. What’s wrong?”

You try and run from the vision, selecting a direction and letting your feet take you as far as you can. Echoing vibrations of your footsteps cloud your ears and you glance behind you to see that she’s gone.

Slowing to a stop, you take a deep breath. You’d broken out of Vecna’s trances before. You could do it again.

“Leaving again?”

The voice came from behind you, prompting you to spin around and squint into the darkness, unable to make out the silhouette in the distance. You didn’t need to.

In an instant, they were barely a breath away from your face, and you were staring at the reflection of yourself in someone else’s glasses, kind eyes and freckles staring back.

“Barb.” You breathlessly sob, stepping back. She tilts her head at you, curls shaking with the movement.

“You always leave.” Barb sighs, gaze drifting down to her hands. You follow her action, watching as her hand slowly slices open, blood pouring from the wound.

The night she died, cutting her hand from a stupid dare and unknowingly luring a Demogorgon to the pool. She would have been okay if you didn’t leave her.

A tear slips down your cheek before you look back up at her. But Barb was frozen, covered in water, her ginger hair clung to her features. Then, she let out a stomach-churning scream.

Stumbling back, you looked away just as the skin started to peel from her body.

Your back hit something warm, and you yelp, someone spinning you around to face them and holding your arms. Your heart wrenched.

“Why didn’t you save me?” Billy’s face streamed with tears, looking down at you with such sorrow.

There was no use arguing, or begging for forgiveness. It’s not real, Y/n.

You weren’t letting Vecna get to you.

Billy’s grip on your arms tighten and he starts to walk you backwards, slamming you against an invisible wall and you cry out.

“Why didn’t you save me?!” He shouts, before a vine suddenly shoots out and pierces his chest.

You scream as he is pulled into the darkness, your body dropping down. Vecna gave you little time to acknowledge anything that was happening.

“Should have called, kid.”

Shaking your head, you refuse to turn around. Instead, you scramble to your feet and start running again. You didn’t get far.

A fiery blast knocks you off your feet and you cough against the smoke, rolling onto your side to see Jack emerge from the dark. He smiles down at you, but it isn’t the same warm gaze you were accustomed to.

He reaches his hand down, and you scramble away.

“Why didn’t you just call?” Jack’s voice becomes rougher, your efforts of escape useless when he matches your pace, towering over you.

He was in the mall that night because of you. Because you didn’t call. In the chaos, you hadn’t even thought about Jack, about how worried he must have been when you missed dinner. He came to the mall to make sure you were okay, and then he took a bullet to the chest.

His blood drips down onto you as his shirt spreads a crimson colour across his torso.

“So much for family.” Jack growls just as his body goes up in flames, scorching the skin and your arms cross in front of your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

Then came the deafening silence.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you await Vecna’s return, for the darkness to become a red hue of floating debris. It never did.

Instead, you feel a tremor beneath your feet. It was small at first, barely noticeable. And then it grew, causing you to attempt to balance, knowing that you had nothing around you to keep you upright.

Suddenly, it stopped, and you were left confused. Another step, and a crunch echoed below you. You look down, your shoe covered in dirt.

Wind began to whistle past your ears, goosebumps lining your skin. In the distance, a statue of an angel. Your breath hitches.

You were at the graveyard.

It was the same spot you had been with your sister, Billy’s headstone by your feet. But it wasn’t alone.

The stone was covered in dust and moss, prompting you to crouch beside it and start tearing it away. One half read ‘Mayfield’, and your stomach churned. You figured Vecna would bring Max into this; he knew exactly what you feared. To lose her, would be to lose everything.

In anger, you rip the rest of the moss, throwing it behind you and tilting your head up to the sky, tears threatening your eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight.

A flash of red lightning burned into the sky and you flinched, steadying yourself on the dirt. Vecna was trying everything to break into your mind, to have you submit. His mistake was showing you the very thing you were fighting so hard to avoid. It just reminded you why you would never let him win.

“Come on, asshole.” You mutter, standing up and searching the graveyard. You raise your voice. “You hear me?! Come out and face me!”

Another strike of lightning reflects against the stone you had uncovered and you let out a bitter laugh.

“You think that’s gonna scare me?!” You yell, fists clenching. “You think that is gonna make me weak? That it’s gonna…”

It wasn’t Max’s grave.

The engraved writing didn’t match her name.

You stand above it, staring down at the stone with a frown.

‘Y/n Mayfield’.

You die. That was what Nancy had said before you set foot into the house, before you were dragged away from your friends. You die. That was what Vecna was taunting you with, promising your end.

Something shifted, to see your own grave beneath your feet. You notice the bare presentation of it, every other headstone covered with flowers and pictures. Yours was practically collecting dust. Because death had rendered you alone.

Vecna finally found your weakness.

A hand shoots up from the dirt, grabbing at your foot and you scream, struggling against its grip. Another hand, and it’s crawling from the grave.

One final tug, and you’re free, falling back as the graveyard crumbles around you, falling, falling, falling…

A gasp from your lips and you first thing you feel is your damp upper lip. The next, is the weight on your bones. You look down to see Vecna’s milky eyes staring up at you with interest, your feet barely brushing the floor.

“You…” You try to speak and, after a second, he loosens his grip and you take in a deep breath, still unable to move, “You can’t get into my mind. I won’t let you.”

“It was never the barriers of your mind I needed to break” He growls and you watch in horror as he raises his left hand.

But, rather than hover over your head, he brings one claw down and you cry as it digs into your cheek, drawing blood.

“Ever since you came back here, I haven’t been able to get this close” Vecna drags the claw down to your jawline as you cry, the burning sensation followed by the trickle of blood down your neck.

The very first vision you had by the lake, the first time you saw Vecna…

Red and raw skin stretched out into vines that wrapped around their body, one abnormally long arm reaching out, claws barely touching your face when they suddenly pull away. You don’t know why, but you can feel it. It was like there was still some kind of barrier between you both.

You had overlooked it, thinking nothing of the possibility that he could never physically kill you.

And now, as he stares deep into your eyes, poisoning your soul, you realise that this is what he wanted all along.

You die. Nancy’s words were echoing in your mind. She was right.

“El will find a way to kill you.” You spat and he seems surprised before anger takes over, lowering his head and glaring up at you.

“You won’t be here to find out”

A frown appears on your face just before a choked gasp leaves your lips.

Tick, tick, tick, tick…

His blood-curdling smile haunts your mind as something trickles from your mouth.

You’re too focused on the flickering image of a grandfather clock, cracking glass echoing behind your eyes, to know what Vecna had done.

Looking down, a tear slipping down your cheek, you see his claws had been plunged into your stomach and struck up to puncture your lungs.

Tick, tick, tick, tick...

When you finally drop to the floor, you struggle to breathe, only ever choking up blood as Vecna stares down at you. The look of victory.

For some reason, he stumbles back, almost doubling over as the vines reach out and pull him back to the centre of the attic. But you don’t have any time to wonder what was happening, to know about the battle currently happening in his mind.

Tick, tick, tick, tick...

The pool of red beneath you grew bigger and bigger. Tears streamed from your eyes as your vision was darkening.

After all you’ve done, all you tried to do, you were going to die.

Alone.

Tick, tick, tick, tick...

They lied. Whoever claimed that in your final moments your life would flash before your eyes, they were wrong. Instead, you were met with the paralysing fear of reality, desperately grasping at memories of the people you would leave behind.

Life didn’t flash before your eyes. Regret did.

Steve wasn’t here to save you. You wouldn’t be celebrating with him when it was all over. You will never experience the day he had planned for you, to undoubtedly make you believe you would end up at Skull Rock and remove the blindfold on your eyes to a picnic by the lake. You’ll never know the feeling of being loved unconditionally by a boy that had known the real you since day one.

Nancy and Robin weren’t here to hold your hand. You wouldn’t be sharing secrets, or hyping Robin up as she approached Vickie. You and Nancy will never get to spend the lost years of your friendship together, and you won’t ever be Robin’s safety net again. You’ll never spare Nancy the pain of having to tell Jonathan that you were no longer with them, that you’ll never see him again.

Eddie wasn’t here to flash you a grin when you woke up, claiming how ‘metal’ you had been. You will never get to join his campaigns, or help him study so he can finally graduate. You and Eddie will never be the friends you were destined to be.

Dustin wasn’t here to find help, to yell at you for ever almost leaving him like that. El wouldn’t get to come to you for advice, and you will never see Lucas at a basketball game. You won’t provide Mike and Will with a place to stay when their families felt too suffocating. You’ll never help any of them get their licenses after one too many life-threatening experiences in a test-drive. You won’t see the Party become adults.

Max wasn’t here to beg you to fight. You won’t travel the world together, or mock eachother’s love lives, or even complain when she stole your clothes that ‘looked cooler on her anyway’. You’ll never be a family again.

No. You won’t experience any of that.

They would find you like this, broken and beaten. The very last image of a girl that couldn’t save herself from the inevitable.

Tick, tick, tick, tick...

The final breath left your lips before you even realised it was your last, just as you felt the vibration of footsteps echo across the floor until they became so faint you couldn’t feel anything at all.

You were just… fading away. A countdown in the back of your mind letting you know that in this moment, your time was finally up.

.......tick.......

.............tick.............

...................tick...................

.........................tick.........................

Then nothing.

Chapter 21: The Final Chime ->

[A/N: um. i just- well, you see... *cries at her own writing*]

taglist: @gnnnne / @beepisbeep / @paintballkid711 / @eddiesbirdie / @livasaurasrex / @darktimelegends / @jackierose902109 / @mvrylee / @chervbs / @eternallyvenus / @nervouscatsuit / @f1nn-wolfhard / @hereiamhereigo / @ladybug0095 / @fangirling-4-ever / @astrolockley / @mothmanatemycat / @sheisjoeschateau / @champagnejoker / @umidktbh / @fallinginlovewithqueue / @ilovetaylorswift132006 / @live-the-fangirl-life / @sadbitchfangirl / @cherrymedicine13 / @engenelxver / @sagaonpandora /

[hottpinkpenguin]

owo bucky barnes self sacrifice 🥺?

A/N: anon, thanks for your patience!!! this is a heart wrencher, fair warning. Bucky is the perfect person for a self-sacrifice fic <3 <3

For You - Bucky Barnes X GN!Reader

Warnings: angst, angst, angst, and more angst; character death; Avengers End Game non-canon; Avengers End Game spoilers Word Count: 2179

“In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. A soul for a soul.”

As soon as the Stonekeeper’s words met your ears, your eyes snapped up to Bucky’s. 

No. 

The word tore through you like a bolt of lightning. You saw it in his eyes: that stubborn, noble, horrifically devoted part of him that was always looking for a reason - an excuse, really - to sacrifice himself for the people he loved. For you. 

“Bucky, god damnit, no!” You flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He was warm against you as he enveloped you in his arms, burying his face in your neck. He placed a kiss there, soft and apologetic, to the skin just beneath your jaw. You could feel the goodbye in that kiss.

“Don’t you do it. Don’t you fucking do it!” you raged, balling your hands into fists as you made yourself a dead weight against him. Hot tears sprang into your eyes. 

“Y/N, there’s no way to-”

“I don’t care, I don’t care! We’ll figure it out, we always do! Tony will figure it out, Bucky, just please don’t do this, don’t you dare leave me!” Sobs tore loose from your chest as you felt him try to pull out of your embrace. Years you’d been waiting for him, literal years, and this selfish bastard was going to end it all in a blaze of glory, dying for his love. But where did that leave you? Alone and doomed to a life without him. You’d been through this once already, when Tony Stark had learned about Bucky’s role in his parents’ death and practically torn the world apart to get to him. You’d seen flashes of your future without Bucky in it, and you couldn’t bear it. You wouldn’t. 

“Y/N, I have to. You know I do.” His voice was gentle, calm, as if he were explaining something to a child. The finality in his voice made you even angrier. You clung to him harder, body shaking now. He’d stopped trying to pry you off of him, but you knew he wasn’t relenting. 

Sensing him stonewalling in his decision, you turned your rage to the Stonekeeper. He hovered above the ground a few feet from the two of you, his unnatural crimson skin 

framing a bland expression. The emptiness in his eyes as he watched your life literally crumbling around you made your blood boil.

“There must be another way,” you growled through gritted teeth. You wanted to kill him, to shred him to ribbons and let the Soul Stone take his existence as payment for its price. 

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, he shook his head impassively. “The Soul Stone wants a sacrifice of love, not one of convenience.” 

You whimpered pitifully as you hid your face in Bucky’s shoulder as if you could hide from the truth in those words. You knew, somehow, that he was right. Killing him - if he could even be killed - wouldn’t be enough of what the Stone demanded. There was only one thing you loved in this world, and only one thing the Stone would accept.

“It’ll be alright, y/n,” Bucky whispered into your ear as you sobbed against him. 

“No, it won’t be. But you won’t be here to care, will you? You’ll be gone, and I’ll be left. I can’t lose you… I won’t…” 

Your voice trailed off suddenly in a moment of clarity. 

There was another option. 

You hadn’t considered it before, but it all made sense. 

Bucky must have heard the realization in your voice, because in the next instant he tensed against you. Thankfully, your reflexes were faster, thanks to your grueling training in the Red Room. You grabbed the back of Bucky’s jacket and threw him away from you with all your strength. You weren’t able to put as much space between the two of you as you wanted, but it was enough. It would have to be.

With as much force as you could summon, you turned away from him and the impassive Stonekeeper and sprinted towards the edge of the cliff behind you. The strange landscape of Vormir stretched out before you, the perpetual twilight purple and pink tint in the sky illuminating an endless landscape of sand dunes peppered with marshes. It was beautiful, you realized with a hint of bittersweet sadness as you closed the distance to the edge of the cliff.

Time slowed, and you let your eyelids flutter closed as you took the last step towards the edge of the cliff, the sound of air rushing past your ears engulfing you. Just before you felt yourself fall into the empty air, your body jerked backwards as something hard and cold dug into your shoulder. Your legs snapped out from under you like a ragdoll as the momentum of your sprint clashed with the force of the backward pull from your shoulder.

You saw him rush past you in the corner of your eye. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, his face serene as he took your place and launched over the cliff. Your body launched backwards from where he’d grabbed your shoulder with his vibranium arm, the edge of the cliff receding away from you. 

In the moment before he fell below your sight line, Bucky turned back to you, his gaze meeting yours. All the moments you two had shared since you’d met almost four years ago flickered between you in the space of a heartbeat. The memory of when you’d first seen him, your first kiss, countless sunrises waking up tangled together, the feeling of his heartbeat against your cheek, the pointless arguments and the painfully beautifully make-up’s - they all exploded in your mind like a barrage of fireworks. 

You reached your arms out towards him, an involuntary shriek of grief splitting the unnatural calm of Vormir as you cried out his name. 

He smiled at you - soft, sweet, and happy - before his body fell below the edge of the cliff. 

Your back collided with the wall of rock, a bolt of pain ripping through your right rib cage as your heart collapsed on itself in your chest. You crumpled where you lay, the weight of your loss pressing the wind out of your lungs. Bucky would never let you have your damn moment. He’d never let you fight without his watchful eye - even though you’d been part of the Avengers long before him. He’d never let you turn the full force of your hatred for yourself loose. He’d always been there to make sure it was his body and spirit that got broken, not yours. He’d held you together when you’d been determined to tear yourself apart. And even in his last moments, he’d always put you first. Above himself, above everything. You knew he hadn’t really sacrificed himself for the team, or for the half of the galaxy that had been lost when Thanos snapped. He’d done it for you. It was always for you, all for you. 

* * * * *

You couldn’t remember leaving the top of that godforsaken mountain, but when your eyelids lifted open, you found yourself flat on your back, floating in a still pool of cold water. The vault of Vormir’s sky above you was painted with vivid streaks of grapefruit pink against an indigo backdrop. The colors were more vibrant, somehow, and you had the distinct impression that this strange planet was grieving Bucky’s loss just as you were. 

As you sat up amidst the silence, you felt something small and heavy in your palm. You didn’t need to look down to know what it was. Your heart knew the cost of the Soul Stone too intimately to question whether Bucky’s sacrifice had worked. 

You felt years of training struggle to anesthetize yourself against the hollow, broken grief that was pulsing inside you. Giving yourself over to that blank numbness, you pressed the initiator on the Time-Space GPS bracelet Tony had given you. The gut-wrenching sensation of quantum travel blurred your vision as you let your mind submerge into grief…

* * * * *

“Where is he? Where’s Bucky?” Steve Rogers crouched down above you as you struggled not to vomit on the deck of Tony Stark’s shiny, chrome Quantum Tunnel. 

Unable to make yourself speak, you stretched out your hand, the apricot-colored Soul Stone glinting merrily against the white of your advanced tech suit. 

“Take it,” you cried hoarsely to Steve, his eyes roaming over your face and the Soul Stone as confusion turned to understanding. “Take it, Steve.”

Sensing your desperation, it was Bruce Banner who snatched the accursed stone of your palm. A deadly quiet descended over the room as your friends waited for you to confirm what they were all beginning to piece together. Only the sound of your strangled sobs pierced the quiet; you hadn’t even realized you were still crying. 

“No… no, it can’t be… it’s all wrong. Tony? TONY!” 

Steve’s grief was the first to surface. It was raw and angry, like yours had been. Of all the Avengers, you knew that Steve would be the one to grieve Bucky alongside you. Although you should have felt comforted by the knowledge that you weren’t alone, feeling the heat of his emotions so close to your own made you inexplicably angry. 

“It’s not wrong, Steve,” you replied back, your voice cold and hard as iron. Steve and Tony froze mid-argument, their eyes glued on you, sensing how close you were to snapping. 

“Bucky’s dead.” Your voice splintered as you forced the words out. “He’s dead. It’s done.” A memory of Bucky’s calm, loving smile danced across your field of vision unwillingly. Oddly enough, the memory felt like aloe on a burn. It tamped down the red-hot edges of your grief. 

His words floated back to you, the last words he’d said to you: it’ll be alright. 

No, it won’t, you yelled back at his memory in your mind. It won’t be alright. But I’ll keep going. If only because I know your stubborn ass would hate me if I didn’t. 

You’d never been a religious person and you’d certainly never put any stock in the idea of an afterlife. That is, not until you’d lost Bucky. There was no way you could imagine a soul like his blinking out of existence. He burned too brightly, loved too hard. The force of love like that didn’t get extinguished with the death of a body. 

As if in confirmation, from somewhere far outside yourself - or from deep within your core, you couldn’t be sure - a feeling stretched out towards you. It was like a caress, a shadow of a memory, and it ran along the length of your mind the way a shiver runs up a spine. It was Bucky. You knew it in the same way you’d known since arriving on Vormir that one of you wouldn’t be coming home. It was the kind of knowledge that lives deep in your bones, an understanding so deep and powerful that it’s beyond words. 

Against yourself, you smiled. Tears spilled over your lash line as your eyes crinkled. The sweetness of that caress lingered like an aftertaste before it faded, gently, into the space where it’d come from. Even when it was gone, you knew it was still there, somewhere, even if you couldn’t see it.

The moment faded and your attention slowly settled back to the moment, to the room full of your friends around you. One of your loves was dead, you realized, but gathered around you were the rest. Your friends. Your family. 

“Bucky’s dead,” you repeated, standing this time. The grief in your chest wasn’t burning as hot, but the weight still pulled on you. Like a parent comforting a crying child, you held your grief tenderly as you fixed your gaze on your friends one by one. Steve, Tony, Bruce, Scott, Natalie. 

“But he’s not gone.”

From that same space where Bucky’s caress had flourished, you felt a twinge of pride. You could picture him, smiling at you with that dreamy, I-never-knew-I-could-be-this-happy mist in his eyes. You did good, kid, he’d say, because he knew you hated it when he called you that. 

For you, you replied back, tossing your words towards that feeling of pride. It’s all for you now, you assured him. You wouldn’t let me live for you when you were alive, but you can’t stop me now that you’re dead. 

A laugh vibrated in the space where Bucky’s memory hung in your mind. You could picture his laugh, the one that made him throw his head back and his brown eyes sparkle. 

And I won’t try, he reassured you. 

You let your soul smile back at him. From the corner of your eye, you saw the Soul Stone glimmer like starlight from where Bruce had set it down. 

I’ll be waiting, Bucky’s memory said as it receded once again into darkness.

You nodded, physically this time, not caring if your friends thought you were mad. 

I know.

[scoundrels-in-love]

If this is communication, I disconnect (I need you, you want me, but I don't know how to connect)

Vash does as he promised - he comes back. But he doesn’t come back to her. To anyone at all. Not even himself. It’s just a shade of him which haunts her apartment and the December streets, clad in anonymity provided by his pitch black hair, new coat in a darker shade and glasses that are far too reminiscent of Wolfwood’s to not set an ache in her chest each time Meryl sees him put them on. VashMeryl with references to VashWood and MashWood | On AO3 | | Grief | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Angst with Hopeful Ending | Lack of Communication | Sometimes talking is hard but the silence is even harder |

Vash does as he promised - he comes back.

But he doesn’t come back to her. To anyone at all. Not even himself.

It’s just a shade of him which haunts her apartment and the December streets, clad in anonymity provided by his pitch black hair, new coat in a darker shade and glasses that are far too reminiscent of Wolfwood’s to not set an ache in her chest each time Meryl sees him put them on.

At first, she does all she can think of to tether him - tries to talk with him and gives him space when all he gives her is silence or feeble attempts at distraction in response, comes home early to cook a meal or take him to her favorite diners, brings donuts and easy chatter from the office. 

But as days stretch into weeks and weeks into months, Meryl finds herself slowing, like she is gradually bleeding out from all the falls she’s taken in her attempts to get through or across, or even under, the walls Vash has enclosed himself in. She is afraid he will suffocate in there, but nothing she does seems to give him even a pinhole of relief.

And ever so gradually, she catches herself stalling going back to her apartment (she’d briefly thought they’d end up calling it theirs) after work, unwilling to play the game of guessing if he will be there, waiting for her with a hollow smile as he tends to the the tree sapling he brought with him, or if he will be gone. Perhaps for the last time.

“Mr. Vash needs time. Just let him know that you’ll be there when he is ready to talk,” Milly says sweetly, thoughtfully, after she catches Meryl curled up at her desk, stifling sobs in the quiet office long after everyone else has gone home. “He needs you more than ever, Ma’am.”

Meryl doesn’t think that’s true - it’s her that has always needed, wanted him and it hardly feels different now. She is the one that lays awake at night, listening into the darkness and wondering if he’ll wake crying and if he will let her comfort him. He hasn’t since the first weeks he spent there - the only sign of his nightmares and pains that he doesn’t manage to hide is the redness of his eyes in the mornings. 

She hopes he doesn’t see the same on her. (Knows he does.)

Every now and then, she gathers all her determination and makes another attempt to reach Vash and, sometimes, it almost feels like they are getting somewhere - sharing a laugh that sounds mostly sincere or allowing their shoulders to rest together as they eat in silence that feels companionable, not like a cold desert night’s wind. Sometimes, it is almost like he is on the brink of actually telling her of those months, those goodbyes she didn’t get to witness, but then she watches his gaze drift somewhere away, inward and she knows she’s lost him, again.

It’s all she does these days.

She is tired - of missing him, of chasing after him as if he was halfway across the world from her, not on the other end of her couch, drumming fingers in an uneasy rhythm on his knees before springing up and giving an excuse for why he must go out. 

It comes to a head one evening when they sit at her small kitchen table, feet carefully arranged not to touch, sharing dinner. The ever-permeating heaviness in her chest expands, gets stuck in her throat, when she thinks she might as well be sitting here with a stranger, with how little she knows about what Vash thinks or does these days. 

“Have you thought about going to Ship Three?” The words pour out of Meryl before she can think through for a third time if she should say them.

He looks like a man who has been slapped, but has been expecting it. And she doesn’t know which part makes her heart sting worse.

It will not be less painful from here, she knows.

“Why do you ask?” Vash deflects and, for once, she’s almost, almost grateful. Because a yes might’ve made her cry, like a confirmation that it’s only the promise keeping him here. But now the ball is back in her court, she has to be the one to say the cold and cruel things that she doesn’t want to, but has to.

Meryl tries to start it off gently, at least: “Luida wrote they all miss you, didn’t she? It’s been a while since you’ve stopped by.”

Vash ceases poking at the food on his plate, puts the fork and knife down with measured movements and proceeds to punch the air out of her lungs with his next words: “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Her voice breaks and she swallows thickly before continuing. If only that could be the whole answer. 

“No. I don’t want you to. But I think it might be better if you did.”

When Vash says nothing, she, too, gives up on the pretense of eating and clutches her hands tightly in her lap as she lifts her eyes to look at his carefully blank face. It’s a kind of emotion on its own. 

“I love you, Vash,” she says and with his sharp inhale, realizes this is the first time she’s said it out loud to him, but she can’t pause, can’t hesitate or she will do something foolish, like asking if he -, “but I don't think staying here is helping you.”

He remains silent and the heaviness in her chest begins to tip over into an aching frustration. She’s once again talking to a wall that has somehow found itself placed in her kitchen, in her life.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’ve tried everything I know and then some and yet you’ve never felt further from me than now. All these months and you haven’t trusted me with a single shred of your pain.” 

Meryl stands up, the sound of her chair scraping against the floor jarring. There isn’t enough space for her to pace, so she stands there, hands clenched and, for once, at the same eye level as Vash who is slumped in his seat. The frustration is stoked into anger by his continuous silence, a want to shake something, anything, out of him taking over. Between it all, the bitterness steeped in the cracks and divots of her heart for months rises like bile and spills out.

“Hell, you won’t even tell me about Wolfwood. As if it’s only your grief and you’re the only one who loved him, just because-”

(Because there was never time and place for me to love him in stolen moments like you could. Because your fingers carry the memory of his warmth and of his coldness once death took its due. Because you feel like you could’ve prevented it, where I could have never made a difference in his borrowed time.)

He flinches at that, and for a second, Meryl feels satisfaction. It’s not fair, she knows. But she is so tired of being thoughtful, when she has to cradle this abyss with her ribcage while Vash acts as if none of this impacted her, as if she’s a stranger that he cannot bear to burden with even a glimpse of the whole story. It’s hers, too, for fuck’s sake. 

All these years spent chasing after him (them), loving him (them), all the horrors that have broken her to pieces from which she had to rebuild on her own, all this time being considerate since he came back, all this time grieving one man she never said goodbye to and one she did not know if she'd see again (and has she?) and here they are, or rather, are not. 

“You just… Exist here,” Meryl says, her voice cracks between anger and the first burn of tears. 

Vash’s hands twitch as if he wants to reach for her and she wishes he would, but then stillness takes him again and without an anchor, she is pulled deeper into this dark place where she can’t breathe, can’t think. Every fearful, painful thought she's tried to swaddle and keep contained in the long, lonely hours of nighttime comes forth, tears through and out of her.

"I don't understand why you're even here, if you're not letting me in. Or even near you." 

Her voice is watery in a way Meryl hates and her fists tighten to the point it feels like her skin will split over her knuckles, baring the bones as she is baring her pain.

"If it's the promise, if I am just an obligation you're regretting and don't know how to deal with… I can release you from it."

There is a soft, almost whimper-like sound from Vash and she forces herself to look at him, take in the handiwork of her own hurt spun together with the cruelty of voicing it like this.

His expression is no longer blank and she doesn't - doesn't feel like she knows him enough anymore to decipher emotions there, but it looks a lot like devastation. And she regrets it. Regrets shooting him point blank when he is already down. (Part of her is surprised that she could, that somewhere beneath his numbness, he did, does care.) Regrets because she's torn herself to pieces in the process, too. But she's been doing that since he came back, inch by inch every day, so maybe now she can finally start healing. Even if it scars and knits all wrong. 

Meryl unclenches her fists and her fingers ache as she wipes at her face, smearing the tear streaks. The silence around them feels stretched and blurred the same way.

"What do you want me to do?" Vash asks when she is so close to begging him to say something, even if it is to call her a horrible, cruel, unfeeling thing. (He wouldn't even be wrong.) His voice is quiet, shuddering and makes more tears spill down her cheeks.

She has to bite her lip, so hard that blood floods her mouth, so she doesn't start sobbing outright. He sounds so lost, like nothing makes sense anymore, like he wants her to give him a path to walk on because he’s never had the luxury of such a choice, only a burning, damned destination waiting. 

And she could - there are so many things Meryl wants for him. She wants Vash to let her learn to love him, every broken, jagged-edged piece that doesn’t fit together anymore and that he’s kept concealed, she wants him to mourn all the way to the bottom of the ravine that cleaves him in half and be next to him as he does, she wants him to let himself eat and savor it again, she wants him to laugh again one day, she wants him to be kind to himself for once, wants him, wants him, wants him-

But most of all, she wants him to want any of it. Want her. Anything. She won’t be the next person to take up the mantle of dictating his life, even if it’d be easier for him.

"I want you to live. To learn what that means for you.” Her voice sounds thin to her own ears, bending under the weight of her intent, her breaking heart as she continues: “And I don't know if you can start that here."

Vash curls forward, burying his face in his hands for a moment, and Meryl feels like collapsing on the kitchen floor next to his chair. Maybe they can cry together, just this once. But then he is raising his head again, expression shuttered once more as he nods: "Okay."

And then he stands up and leaves. 

Not for the last time, not yet. But she feels like it might as well be.

In two days, Vash is standing at the door of the apartment that was almost theirs. His satchel rests by the doorjamb, as does the basket to be strapped on his back, in which he so carefully has placed the tree seedling.

If she doesn’t say something now, he will turn and leave with barely a goodbye and it will be another bead of regret in the adorned string that is slowly choking her. They’ve scarcely spoken since that evening, not even tiny pleasantries, and Meryl needs him to know that she isn’t casting him out, that she doesn’t hate him. But she can’t think of any words to convey it.

“My couch will always be available for you,” she says instead. He regards her quietly and Meryl hopes he finds only sincerity and none of the desperation for him to take her up on the offer some day. 

Vash nods softly and she feels the seconds ticking by, heavy with their mutual hesitation. 

“Can I…” Meryl inhales deeply, bracing herself for the way this will turn her inside out and the very real possibility of his rejection, “can I hug you?”

Vash’s lips part in muted surprise and then he slowly spreads his arms and she throws herself at him, before he has time to reconsider. 

Her arms slide beneath his coat, clutching at the back of his dark shirt and Meryl presses her face into his chest, hoping that the heat of him will dry up the first well of tears in her eyes. It doesn’t.

Vash’s hand comes to cradle the back of her head as the other wraps around her shoulders, tentatively at first and then almost crushing as the first sob shudders through her body. This is the closest they’ve been in this half a year they’ve spent living so close it was almost together. 

It’s a thought that wrings another sob out of Meryl, loud enough that she almost misses Vash’s whisper.

“I love you.” 

She stills, not even breathing, unsure if she imagined it. Vash's hands tighten around her as he bends over her awkwardly, pressing his face into her hair.

“I love you," he repeats, now at a volume that does not permit mistakes of mishearing, not even with the tremble in his voice, "Wolfwood told me to take good care of you and look at what I’ve done.”

“He should have stayed and made sure you do, then,” Meryl says, swaying deeper into Vash's arms with an angry longing for what could have been. 

It is the first time they've spoken of Wolfwood like this, like he - or the lack of him - is something they can let into the room with them, acknowledge together. Like he was a person, not a wound with a face. Part of her fears Vash will push her away for it.

Instead, she feels him nod: “Yeah. Yeah, he should have.”

And then Vash is slowly sliding down, crumbling on his knees, as he holds her still. He buries his face in her shoulder and she feels the sobs shaking his body before she hears them. 

Her arms shift to wrap around his shoulders and she thinks how frail he feels in this moment, like a teenage toma whose bulk is mostly feathers and posturing, though she knows, knows the strength of his body and heart goes beyond that of any human.

She's seen it, has had it written across every nerve ending in her body as his memories and his feathered weight crushed her, has feared it and has had to untangle her own overwhelming fragility from it. And in the same way, she knows the pain and the guilt that runs through Vash like a river system that she's read used to define humanity itself once upon a time on Earth, knows every loss since then has only added a new stream. Knows he's been drowning this whole time in the ocean where all the rivers meet.

So she holds him, hopes it's enough to keep him afloat if only for a moment, and cries with and for him.

They stay like that, clinging to each other like the only way to remain upright for themselves is to make sure the other doesn't collapse, for a time that might be hours or infinity or maybe just a handful of minutes, ached to the bottom of every second.

Eventually, Vash's sobs subside and so do Meryl's and then the silence is only interrupted by a sniffle or hiccup from one of them in the aftermath. She is afraid again, of what comes next, or what doesn't.

Her fingers tread through the soft hairs on his nape, one final indulgence before she has to take the next and perhaps the last step. Meryl draws a deep, shuddering breath, her voice hoarse on exhale: "Do you want me to let go now?" 

Vash is still in her arms, has been for a while now as if he's forgotten that he is supposed to need to breathe now that it's uncomfortable after crying. And yet, it feels like the question freezes him. They both know it's not just about ending this embrace. 

Her heart beats so painfully loudly in her chest, it must sound like a drum to him. Five beats, six beats, seven - please, end this agony, she thinks. I've been saying this goodbye for so long, I can't endure the waiting for it any more.

"No..." He sounds unsure, like a child that doesn't know what answer the teacher wants to hear, so he gives the one he's got and prays it's the correct one. It punches a pained sound out of her as she turns her head and presses her lips to his temple, a few quick tears racing down her face.

"Then I won't," she tells him, finds a way to somehow embrace him tighter still. It hurts her arms, hurts where the metal plates and wires on his body press into her, but she will take these pains of imprinting, of becoming his mirror gladly. 

He looks at her then, truly looks at her, with intent and without flinching away when she meets his gaze. She stays in that moment, tries to write her heart across her features, but knows even a novel wouldn't be enough to convey it.

They remain silent for a long while, just allowing themselves and the other to look, until a bitter sort of absurdity comes to Meryl. "Why can we only be honest when you're about to leave?" she asks, softly, and finally lets go of him enough to bring one of her hands to cup Vash's face, thumb stroking across his cheek, wiping at the drying tear tracks. 

He leans into her touch, eyes fluttering half shut, as if he can't bear to stop looking at her, and it makes her heart drop into some weightless space. His voice is quiet, mournful: "I don't know. Maybe it's that I don't know how to stay."

Then his expression shifts, the determination in it akin to the one she'd seen during countless hopeless fights and situations he'd turned into something else, something better with sheer want to. "But I want to try. Being honest while staying."

"Me too," she promises, because her heart's truth often comes too late and too loudly.

Meryl doesn't know if they will ever truly leave this in-between space, where the shadows of parting are so bitingly stark against the too bright, scorching suns of possibilities, where goodbyes swirl around them like dust and sand almost constantly.

But, she thinks, if they can move even a little closer to the edge, to peace, maybe they can settle down. They both have lived in colder and lonelier places, after all.

[kamilah-is-queen]

Al Hayba- Sayeed’s (Pt. II)

Pt. I

Author’s Note: SPOILERS! Basically, in case this doesn’t make sense, is the Sayeed’s are an arms smuggling clan. They smuggle weapons through the Lebanese mountainside through land in their name, hence they are like a mafia. It’s unsafe for Amy to leave because their rivals have got wind of her being in town, and they plan to use Amy as a bargaining tool against the family. But, the Sayeed’s can’t just come out and say they are an illegal gang, so they try to keep it under wraps from Amy. Hope this helps!

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Amy Parker)

Warning: Violence

Tags: @ta-sayeed, @kamilahtopme, @nydeiri, @rhonda-sayeed, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @millasayeed, @vonda-be-real, @livvynka, @queenkamilah, @leenasayeed, @skylarkxxyy, @choicesgrp, @ilove-kamilah-sayeed, @justavampirefan, @iamsimpforpoppy, @friendlybuddy, @darlingnikki-prince

Everyone, including guards stepped out of their respective SUV’s upon their arrival at the cemetery. Amy helped her mother-in-law Nahid out of the car as Kamilah led the men in carrying the casket.

Amy watched as she held one corner of the casket on her shoulder, setting a swift walking pace towards the graveyard. Amy decided to walk behind the group to walk with Nahid, who walked briskly despite her old age thanks to her cane.

She decided it wasn’t the right time to question Nahid about the brunette, who she assumed was her daughter.

The burial was over quickly, everyone dispersing into their own respective groups to converse about Lysimachus.

Amy however, stayed at his grave. She bit her cheek hard as she began to cry, unable to hold her emotions back anymore. She cried into her hands to muffle the sobs, but it didn’t do any good.

She felt warm arms wrap around her gently, looking up to see a teary-eyed Mona.

‘It’s okay, he’s in a better place now.’ Mona’s voice smiled through her glossy eyes, wiping the tears off Amy’s cheeks as she began to calm.

‘That doesn’t make me any less selfish, I wish he didn’t have to leave me, alone.’ Amy sighed shakily, resting a bouquet of flowers on the raised dirt before taking a step back.

‘You aren’t alone, you have us. You’ll always have us no matter what it is that you need.’

‘Thank you, truly.’ Amy offered a subtle smile, leaning into Mona’s gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Back at home…

‘Amy, we should talk.’

She turned at the sound of her name, the brunette standing at a distance, sipping tea, her eyes on Amy.

Amy nodded silently, following her to a private living room. The brunette beckoned Amy to sit as she herself took a seat on the sofa, pouring Amy a small cup of tea. She only began speaking once Amy had taken a seat.

‘My name is Kamilah Sayeed, elder sister of your late husband. Despite my brother not mentioning us, we are all here to support and protect you as your family.’

Amy took a small sip of the tea, a wave of tranquility passing over her as she felt the hot liquid warm her insides.

‘Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality, but my daughter and I cannot stay much longer. Her school starts soon and I must return to work.’

Kamilah sipped from the small cup in her hand, staring at the picture hanging on the far wall. It was of her and Lysimachus in the mountains, both adorning hunting rifles with bright grins on their faces.

‘It is unsafe for you for return to Canada.’ Her sharp tone oozed through her words, prompting Amy to raise her eyebrows in confusion.

‘I don’t think I understand.’

Kamilah set down the cup and turned her head to look at Amy, a look of annoyance setting on her face.

‘There is no need for you to understand, but there is a need for you to listen.’

Amy frowned deeply, even more confused.

‘I can’t just put my life back in Canada on hold because I’ve come here, Kamilah.’ Her voice rose an octave as she became increasingly frustrated.

‘You wouldn’t be putting your life on hold, you’d be continuing it here. Excuse me.’

And with that, Kamilah left.

‘God she is so annoying.’ Amy grumbled, running her hands through her hair as she tried to make sense of her situation.

It kept her up at night, trying to find an answer as to why she couldn’t just go back to her normal life with Cam, despite Lysimachus being gone.

She sighed, deciding that coffee would sooth her pounding headache that resulted from all the overthinking.

Amy quietly got out of bed, careful not to disturb Cam. She tiptoed downstairs as everyone had retired in their rooms for the night.

Everyone, except one.

Amy jumped as she turned the corner, surprised to see Kamilah sitting in an armchair that faced the fireplace.

‘Oh! My god you scared me. I didn’t think anyone would be up.’

Kamilah remained silent as she focused on the item in her hand, the picture from earlier. Her finger stroked the image of Lysimachus’s face silently, clearly distracted by her own thoughts.

‘Would you like coffee?’ Amy asked, tilting her gaze towards Kamilah who dismissed her with a brief head shake.

Amy quickly returned with her mug, settling on the armchair beside Kamilah’s. She folded a blanket across her legs and hummed as the fire warmed her feet. ‘Cold night, isn’t it?’

Kamilah set the picture frame aside, leaning towards the fireplace to poke the logs. ‘Quite.’

Amy noticed how the bright orange embers of the fire reflected off of Kamilah’s deep brown eyes, the fire crackling softly as she watched the reflection of the flames rise the woman’s iris’s.

Kamilah sat back in the chair once more, pulling her black wool shawl tighter across her shoulders. ‘How long did you know Lysimachus?’

Amy tapped her chin with her finger, squinting her eyes as she thought.

‘Just shy of twelve years.’

Kamilah began to light her cigarette, her eyes still on the fire as she took a large puff.

‘And you loved him?’

Amy squeezed the mug a little tighter. ‘With everything in me. I would give anything to have him back.’

Kamilah simply nodded, blowing the smoke out from her nostrils. She raised a cigarette towards Amy, who shook her head.

‘I don’t smoke.’ Amy smiled, watching as Kamilah put the cigarette back in its case.

The pair sat in silence for minutes, the only sound that broke the silence was the occasional tick of a clock.

‘I don’t mean to be rude, but’ Amy bit her lip nervously before she continued ‘you’re awfully stoic, considering your brother has just passed sway.’

Kamilah inhaled from her cigarette again, exhaling deeply.

‘Everyone grieves differently.’

‘True, true.’ Amy resisted the urge to pinch herself. Why would she say something so stupid!?

‘Recalling fond memories of him lessens the pain for me, oddly enough.’

Amy sat up a little, clearly intrigued. ‘Can you tell me about that picture?’

Kamilah picked up the frame and handed it to Amy as she stubbed the end of her cigarette into the flame.

‘Lysimachus and I greatly enjoyed hunting, following in our father’s footsteps, he would say.’

Amy smiled as she gazed over the picture, ‘it looks beautiful.’ She handed the frame back to Kamilah, their fingers brushing briefly.

They both went quiet for a while longer before Kamilah stood, flicking her cigarette in the fire.

‘Get some rest, it’s late.’

Amy watched Kamilah walk off as she quietly said goodnight in response. It was late, and she was exhausted. She trudged her way back up to where Cam was sleeping and tucked in for the night.

But Kamilah didn’t plan on sleeping. No, she had business to take care of. She carefully set her shawl on the foot of her bed before quietly exiting the house.

Chahine straightened as she approached the car. ‘He’s in the warehouse, yes?’

‘Yes Kamilah.’

‘Then let’s go.’

They both entered the black GMC and drove away into the night, towards a warehouse miles into the Lebanese countryside.

Kamilah took a black pistol from the glove compartment of the car, tucking it in the holster at her hip as she exited the vehicle, with Chahine on her heels.

Inside, was a man suspended in the air by ropes that held his wrists together, a bloody cloth covering his mouth too.

His eyes widened at the sight of Kamilah as he wreathed, blood dripping from his shirt already. She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, slowly making her way towards the man, knowing the suspense would kill him.

‘Well well well, if it isn’t the rat himself.’ She tugged the cloth off of his mouth as he began the beg for mercy.

She yanked the neck of his dirtied vest, making him grunt in pain as the ropes dig into his skin.

‘Listen to me closely, pig. You cannot pretend to join our clan, only to leak the location of our warehouses to our rivals, and then come begging for mercy.’

Kamilah cut the rope that suspended him, causing him to fall awkwardly on the stone floor. He scrambled to stand and run away but couldn’t as his legs were tied together.

She unholstered her gun and aimed at the man’s forehead.

‘I will make an example of you.’

At the last second, she aimed instead at his foot, firing the gun as she screamed in pain. Blood instantly began seeping from the wound, as she kneeled at his side.

‘Be a good boy and run off to your master now. And tell him who did this to you.’

She cut the ropes that bound his feet and watched as he limped off, hurriedly. Kamilah holstered the gun once more, nodding to Chahine as they left the warehouse.

She washed her hands in a stream nearby, wiping her hands on a towel that Chahine handed to her.

‘He handled that well, don’t you think?’ Chahine chuckled as soon as he uttered the words, prompting Kamilah to grin faintly.

‘Let’s see if he survives long enough to deliver the message.’

Soon enough, they were back at the villa. Kamilah thanked Chahine, despite him being her right hand man in all of her business affairs.

Once inside her room, Kamilah changed into her pajamas and settled into the thick covers of her bed. Dawn was fast approaching, so she’d only get a few hours of sleep. But that didn’t matter.

If there was one thing that Kamilah Sayeed valued more than her family, it was her business. And she would stop at nothing to uphold the Sayeed’s reputation regarding it.

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Power Armor Punch Part Forty Nine

Masterlist

Teshteal: Ah. We’re here. *hides behind Gardio*

Nick: *sour look at the smaller man*

Gardio: *sees Jas finally and smiles* Directly, what a sweet looking child!

Jasmine: (Snuggles closer to Nick in her sleep, still clutching him tightly with her fingers gripping his coat. She feels warm and safe right now, better than she does awake. Her commands can’t reach her, she’s momentarily free from the terrible trance she was put in)

Lucille: Dad… are you okay?

Gardio: I’m fine. Why?

Lucille: “Directly, what a sweet looking child” is not a normal sentence. Even for you.

Gardio: *thinks about the word salad he responded with just a second ago* Oh- that is pretty bad. Sorry- the radiation must have gotten to my head for a second there, sweetie. *sheepish grin*

Teshteal: *clinging to Gardio’s back, peaking around at Nick*

Nick: *at Teshteal* What’s he hiding from?

Gardio: You. Don’t know why but he’s scared you’ll kick him out of the group.

Jasmine: (Still sleeping like an innocent baby who didn’t just brutally kill three raiders with a dagger and pure strength)

Nick: After what he did? I’m tempted to.

Gardio: Oh? What did he do?

Nick: He suggested a command knowing fully it would make her relive gruesome memories.

Gardio: *pointedly* Was he trying to help?

Nick: I- *pauses* Could have been. I’m not sure. The place they were taken to tried to turn them both into heartless killers.

Teshteal: *slight whine at the mention of that place*

Gardio: *notices* You think that’s a good reason to turn him away? *eyes narrow in suspicion* Because he might be a “heartless killer”? How is she any different?

Nick: *pauses then recovers* That doesn’t excuse what he did.

Gardio: He suggested a command. Suggested. You didn’t have to use it. The way I see it, you’re just as at fault as he is.

Nick: *frowns but doesn’t say anything. He’s right. He should have thought twice about the Command*

Jasmine: (Sniffs in her sleep, whining while she tightens her fingers around Nicks coat and mumbles desperately for someone to leave her alone)

Gardio: So? What say you, Nick? Does he stay?

Nick: I guess so… but I’m keeping an eye on him.

Gardio: No need. Focus on your daughter. I’ll focus on Teshteal and Lucille.

Lucille: Dad, minus 200 years, I’m still in my late 20s. You don’t need to treat me like a child.

Gardio: True. You’re still my daughter, though.

Nick: *questioning why he suddenly feels like he lost custody of two of his kids*

Jasmine: (Whimpers quietly in her once peaceful slumber that’s turning into a nightmare, releasing Nick of her death grip to cover her face and chest with her hands)

Gardio: *has his arms out in front of him as a gesture to the group* Now if we’re ready to go-

Nick: *sets Jas suddenly in his arms* I think you need to get to know your new Daughter, Chapel. She’s a real firecracker.

Gardio: *already being very careful not to drop the teen*

Jasmine: (Whines again in her sleep when she feels that Nick is no longer holding her, kicking her legs like a little toddler while squirming)

Gardio: *keeping a firm but gentle hold on her regardless* I- *sighs in defeat and starts trying to comfort the girl with a soft lullaby*

Lucille: *would say something about dumping kids off on other people but she already does that with Shaun so she stays silent*

Jasmine: (Covers her face with a scared cry at the unfamiliar person holding her, but she’s too worn out and still under the mental effects of the reset command to actually try and claw out Gardio’s eyes. She just scrunches up as small as she can with frightened sobs, tumbling between nightmares and reality)

Gardio: *softly rocks her as they walk* It’s alright… I’m not going to hurt you.

Teshteal: *mumbling apologies to Jas guiltily despite her not being able to hear*

Jasmine: (Stays asleep but keeps softly whimpering and crying out occasionally. She can’t understand where Nick went or that he’s the one to hand her off. All she knows is that Nick’s not close to her anymore and she wants him back)

Gardio: *just keeps walking* I know I’ve seen you somewhere before… Is my memory that bad…? *trying his best*

Teshteal: *staying close to Gardio like a child following his dad*

Lucille: *still leading the way*

Jasmine: (Hiding her teary face with her hands, wishing for her dad right now as the anxiety builds up in her chest)

Gardio: *sings her another lullaby as sweetly as he can*

Lucille: *trying not to get drowsy as she walks. Even now her dad’s soft but deep singing voice puts her to sleep*

Nick: Hey, you slowing down for a reason?

Lucille: *jumps* Sorry. Dad still has that charm when it comes to lullabies.

Gardio: *small smile creeps in between lines of the song hearing that*

Teshteal: *also fighting sleep. He just has a very soothing voice. Kinda wants a piggyback ride, now*

Jasmine: (Her hands creep up her face to tug on the roots of her her while she shuffles in Gardio’s arms, messing up her neatly done braid in the name of soothing herself)

Nick: *reaches into her bag and pulls out her bear* Here. This might help.

Gardio: *raises an eyebrow wondering why he waited so long to give it to him. They’re literally about to leave Boston* Thank you. *lets Nick set it in Jas’s arms*

Jasmine: (Clutches Winnie to her face while she whimpers at the nightmares, nearly smothering herself with how tight she’s holding it. You’d think that the bear is her only friend with how closely she holds it, in her mind it is at the moment)

Teshteal: *quietly humming to himself*

Gardio: *slowly blinks at Jas. Taking a guess at who she is- the kid that he tried to safely escort home but outran him in the woods?*

Jasmine: (Cries out then twists harshly, waking herself from the nightmare to spare herself from more horrors. She blinks, realizing that Gardio is now holding her and she can’t sense Nick’s presence despite him saying he wasn’t going anywhere, the pent up anxiety and fear of being apart flooding out all at once. She immediately starts throwing a huge toddler tantrum, kicking, screaming, wailing, and hitting with no restraint to how strong or how loud as tears go down her face)

Gardio: *doesn’t even flinch. He scruffs her jacket like a mother cat picking up a kitten and holds her out in front of him to avoid injury* Nick.

Nick: *stops and turns, pausing at the display. He can’t help but smirk at the angry teen mirroring the image of a feisty kitten* Good to see you still have some fight in you, Rosie. You can set her down, now, Gardio.

Gardio: Alright. *softly but almost jokingly to Jas as he sets get * Try not to bite anyone…

Teshteal: *nervously at Jas, mostly still over the command* Please don’t actually bite Gardio.

Jasmine: (Went absolutely feral with her hissy fit when Gardio held her up, seconds away from grabbing her knife until she saw Nick. Once he sets her down, she gives the towering man a death glare that could alone kill someone then catapults over to her dad, jumping up and clinging tightly onto him like a baby koala again) (Quietly and brokenly) “You said you would not go!” (Buries herself in the crook of his neck while she cries from the overwhelming and confusing emotions she’s getting)

Lucille: Wh- Jasmine- he never left-

Nick: Luce, I’ve got this. *to Jasmine* Rosie, I was walking right alongside Gardio. I didn’t leave you at all. Just let Gardio hold you for a bit in case we ran into any trouble. That’s all.

Teshteal: That’s right. I know cause I was avoiding his line of sight the entire time.

Gardio: Does she hate me that much…?

Lucille: I would say something crass here but I’ve made a promise not to do that.

Gardio: Write it down and show me.

Lucille: Fine. *pulls out a paper and writes* “It’s not you. She only likes Nick and Teshteal. Everyone else is evil until proven otherwise.”

Gardio: Hm. A little assumptive don’t you think?

Lucille: So is you thinking she hates you.

Gardio: True. *nods quietly*

Jasmine: (Doesn’t say anything to Nick in response but she quiets down while she tries to sort herself out, starting with calming down so she can think rationally. She doesn’t give a shit on what they think about her reserved and sparse trust she has in people. Nobody protected the little girl that the world had rejected from day one, so why does she have to trust them after they kicked her to the curb over and over again?)

Nick: Look, Rosie. I know it’s hard for you to trust people but sometimes a little benefit of the doubt could be afforded to some. There will be times I won’t be around.

Lucille: And you’ll be stuck with someone you don’t like but you have to work with. Like me.

Jasmine: (Whispering to Nick, her voice barely audible) “I let myself believe that too, then I got broken again and four kids died in my care…” (Closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, clutching her Dad tighter while she thinks of all the times her trust was played with in different ways even after she decided to keep herself reserved) “I am not doing that again, it just keeps repeating.” (If they want her trust, they better damn well earn it. Plus, she’s coding to never make real relationships, she’s suppose to fabricate them with fake smiles and laughs, willing to drop them at a wave of her hand)

Nick: I want you to try to trust someone. Even if you have to fake it at first. *looks out into the burned out woods they’re in* There’s a lot of bad in this world, but there’s also a lot of good in it, too. If you don’t trust anything at all, you’re only gonna short yourself of that goodness that’s out there.

Lucille: *nods but doesn’t say anything. Anything she does say won’t make a difference to Jas- or if it does it’ll be for the worse*

Jasmine: (Blinks. She’s nearly damn breaking herself just by trusting Nick as a father and Teshteal as a brother. It’s one of her biggest problems right now, it’s tearing her programming apart then stitching back together awkwardly. She pulls back to look at Nick, pointing at her face that filled with hurt, pain, and exhaustion) (Blankly) “I am tired of this shit about trusting people, they make everything fucking worse. Try me, they all rejected me first.”

Nick: *dad lecture tone* I’m not saying to trust everyone. In certain cases, you gotta have a bit of faith in people. Do your due diligence then trust if you gotta. *sternly* What are you gonna do if I or Teshteal suddenly kick the bucket, huh? Who the hell are you going to turn to, then, Rosalinda?

Lucille: *flinched hearing Nick drop into his more parental lecture voice*

Gardio: *staying out of this. If he was going to say anything, he certainly can’t now that he’s heard Nick’s tone shift like that. What he does know is that he’s gotta be on standby if she makes a sudden break for it*

Teshteal: *already on all fours*

Dogmeat: *sitting nearby, tilting his head in confusion*

Jasmine: (Flinches and looks besides her at the empty air, letting go of Nick and standing on her own, feeling challenged and defensive. She backs up a good few feet and throws up her arms at the group with her dagger in hand) “The fucking ghosts that have been keeping me alive all this time, Daddy, that is who! I am sure yours would haunt me a considerable amount too.” (Bites down on the tip of her thumb, remembering seeing her mother when she tried to end her life by jumping off a building. God, what if that becomes Nick too?)

Nick: Hate to break it to ya, toots. I don’t got a soul. You won’t be seeing me around. *shakes his head* You’re gonna live a much more lonely and miserable life if that’s your plan after the inevitable happens- *freezes suddenly, his system encountering an error before blinking and resuming* -and you’ll regret closing yourself off- *another glitch, this time twitching* -off-off-o- *shakes his head* You know what I mean.

Gardio: Are you okay?

Lucille: Yeah, Val. You’re acting a bit glitchy.

Nick: I’m fine. I’m sure it’s just a minor-minor-minor fix.

Jasmine: (Just kinda blinks, biting back a laugh of hysteria because of course something like this has to happen right now. God, she really is cursed, and now it’s passing on. She takes a few steps closer to Nick while lowering her knife, concern on her face)

Nick: I’m alright. Really- Just a-just a- just- *suddenly his eyes go dim and he collapses*

Lucille: Nick!! *runs over to check on him*

Jasmine: (Already diving forwards to catch her Dad before he hits the ground, never mind that he’s a synth as she gently sets him on the ground. Her entire face breaks while she stares down at his lifeless form, shaking her head in disbelief as her breathing starts to quicken and her heart shatters, remembering what she did to him at the hospital)

Lucille: *kneeling next to him, taking off his coat and shirt to open up his casing* Hold on, Val. You’re not going to the junkyard, yet.

Teshteal: *softly as he walks up beside Jas* Can I hold you…? *knows Nick’s probably going to be alright*

Gardio: What happened to him?

Lucille: Don’t know- I’m going to wager his air filter and fan is clogged. *poking around inside and manages to find the air filter… but in doing so her hand comes out pretty dirty* Gees. He’s overdue for some proper maintenance in there.

Gardio: What do you mean “overdue”? He doesn’t get maintained regularly?

Lucille: No… he’s always working a case or helping people. He hardly visits a proper mechanic. *looking at the air filter. It’s caked in tar and gunk from all his smoking* I bet there’s more of this… *pulls out a thing of water and an old toothbrush and starts scrubbing away*

Jasmine: (Is shaking while she hold her fathers hand, swallowing a lump in her throat when she remembers her mothers coffin, and her prewar adopted fathers grave. “He was right, this was a mistake.”)

Lucille: Okay. That’s as much as I can clean. We’ll have to get him to Faraday in Arcadia. He’s pretty good at this stuff. *clicks the airfilter back in place after giving the fan a light scrub*

Nick: *the fan starts whirring but it sounds a bit off. His eyes flicker a little bit. Then, as Lucille shuts his casing, stay on- solid this time. He stays silent but his mouth at least shuts*

Lucille: Nick…?

Nick: *face has defaulted to a neutral expression. Still nothing*

Lucille: *softly, desperately* Come on, Val.

Jasmine: (Trying not to burst into tears from the stress thats threatening to tip over all that she has pent up, squeezing Nicks hand gently while she silently prays that he’ll be alright)

Nick: *mouth doesn’t move but suddenly his voice comes through his speakers almost in a panic* Damn it- will something work- *hears his own voice* Well that’s a start. Huh. Seems like I’m stuck in some sort of safe mode. Can’t move a thing. *the only indication he’s talking is that his eyes flicker in brightness*

Lucille: *sighs in relief. The important parts are still functional at least* You had a lot of gunk on your fan and air filter*

Nick: Ah- that would do it. Must still be partially clogged. I don’t think my system will let me do any extraneous movement until that’s fixed- one of you are going to have to carry me.

Lucille: *looks up at her Dad*

Gardio: *looks back, then sighs* I’ll carry you, Nick.

Jasmine: (Doesn’t break face, just squeezes Nicks hand gently again with partial relief. She lowers her head and takes a deep breath, slowly standing up. “He should’ve told her to leave it alone, now look at us.”)

Nick: *his hand remains limp. Not even a twitch*

Gardio: I’ll carry you, Nick… Lucille, help me get him on my back.

Lucille: *nods and picks him up*

Gardio: *crouches so she can drape Nick over his back. He holds Nick’s legs around his waist so he won’t fall off*

Lucille: *manipulates the Detective’s fingers so if Gardio loses his grip or ends up leaning back far, Nick won’t go slipping off*

Gardio: *trying his best not to blush. He hasn’t been this close to someone in quite a while*

Nick: Well this isn’t awkward at all. Hope the radiation doesn’t make things worse.

Gardio: Too small to hurt electronics fortunately. *smirks*

Jasmine: (Slowly blinks and steps back, crossing her arms over her waist to give herself a hug. She’s ready to do just about anything to get Nick back in working order, that’s why she hasn’t broken down into tears yet)

Teshteal: *very lightly puts a hand on her shoulder. There’s a hint of caution despite his effort to comfort her- he’s still not sure if she’s mad at him*

Gardio: *to Jas* Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll get Nicholas here some help. *mutters to Nick* This is why smoking is bad for you.

Nick: I’d roll my eyes but sadly you’ll just have to settle for indignant grumbling.

Lucille: *packing up Nick’s outfit* I think we can imagine it quite well, Nick.

Jasmine: (Doesn’t react to Teshteal or answer Gardio, she’s more focused on keeping it together and resisting the urge to cut or scratch herself)

Lucille: *Soon they’re crossing through a dangerous canyon and fighting a pack of mongrels*

Gardio: *firing from the hip with his pistol at the wild dogs*

Teshteal: *making short work of them*

Jasmine: (She’s boiling with pure fury, not even using her knife to kill the dogs. When they lung at her with snarling growls, she grabs them by the jaw and rips open apart their face, slamming their bodies on the ground as hard as she can. Violence is her first answer to all negative emotions, this is how she’s channeling it) (Muttering to herself) “She should have just forgotten about me, now this is the price she pays.” (As she tears open another dog and slams it down with a growl of both hurt and anger. She doesn’t mean for the other to hear any of this) “I am sorry, I should not have been born…”

Teshteal: *found a some rocks and is using his tail to bludgeon a lot of the dogs coming at them. Occasionally he bashes their skulls in with the one in his hands*

Nick: *did pick up what Jas is saying. Internally frowning despite his static expression*

Lucille: *tearing them apart with her ripper. They don’t really hurt her thanks to her power armor…*

Gardio: *sighs as they wrap up the fight* Anything else-?

Mirelurk Hunters: *pop up suddenly smelling the fresh blood*

Gardio: *tired look at the lobsters heading their way*

Teshteal: *already running to them and using his method with the rocks to dispatch them*

Jasmine: (Charges head on, this time with her favorite combat knife out. She uses it to declaw them before she rips out their face with her bare hands and the same amount of kitten fury) “You should have listened to them and left me there, you would still be alive if you did.” (Stops and stares at her bloodied hands) “I am sorry, I will never be worth the cost. I can try, but it will never be enough. I should have died in that trash can, but I guess I am stuck living like this forever.” (Resumes taking out whatever sea creature she can)

Lucille: *inspecting the area so there aren’t anymore surprises*

Teshteal: *sniffs the air then shrugs* I think that’s the last of them.

Gardio: We shouldn’t be far from where we’re going, right?

Nick: *laughs* We still have to cross the ocean and take the long walk to Acadia.

Teshteal: So how are we getting across when we get to the ocean?

Lucille: We have a boat a previous client let us use for a case. They don’t mind us borrowing it from time to time.

Nick: *referring to Teshteal and Gardio specifically* I’d stay close to each other in Far Harbor- not just because the locals are a bit uneasy around new folks. It’s the fog and the wildlife that’ll do you in.

Lucille: *vigorous nod*

Jasmine: (Standing close to the group and wiping herself clean with a rag, undoing her messed up braid to get rid of anything that may have gotten caught in her curls. That’s the consequence of forgetting to put back on her hood and mask)

Nick: It might he best to split up when we get to Far Harbor. Teshteal, Gardio, and I will go to Acadia. Rosie, you go with Lucille to the old lighthouse.

Lucille: Wait- why the lighthouse?

Nick: If Donny’s smart, he’d hole up in an easily defensible locale with a high enough viewpoint to pick off raiders. If he ain’t there, wait. Gardio and I will catch up in a few hours.

Teshteal: Why are we splitting up? You just said to stay together-

Nick: Yeah, but there’s also the essence of time. Plus it’ll give Jasmine something to do while I’m in the shop. Besides, I still expect us to stick to our groups. *directed at Jas and Lucille* That means no running off without notice.

Jasmine: (Sighs heavily and looks down at her feet, crossing her arms over herself. She doesn’t want to be apart from her Dad, even if it’s to give her something to do while he gets patched up. The very idea pounds dread in her heart, damn the separation anxiety. Also in the back of her mind, she knows Donny won’t have good news for her. It’s hard enough keeping it together right now, and if what she suspects is true…)

Nick: And when I say “notice” I mean “being upfront about why you’re running off and what you’re going to do about it.” *talking directly at Jas now*

Lucille: What if one of us does run off?

Nick: Then you better go after them.

Jasmine: (Keeps walking in the right direction without looking back or responding to Nick, taking in deep breaths to keep herself calm from the current thoughts. She has to have hope and faith, not assume the worst possibility in this scenario just this once)

Lucille: *resumes walking*

Gardio: *is being filled in about Jas’s case some more via Nick*

Jasmine: (Starts humming and vocalizing the start of a song she liked to help distract herself, continuing to ignore everyone when she starts the lyrics) “Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I to disagree? I travel the world and the seven seas. Everybody's looking for something….” (Her head is definitely not agreeing with this choice, it started screaming at her even more the moment she opened her mouth. But to hell with it, if she doesn’t do something she might go spiraling down)

Teshteal: *starts singing along* Some of them want to use you. Some of them want to get used by you. Some of them want to abuse you. Some of them want to be abused…

Nick: *Kind of a dark song choice but if it helps he’ll go along with it. Starts humming the tune*

Jasmine: (Doesn’t acknowledge Teshteal or Nick as she keeps singing then harmonizes the notes just as the singer does, sounding like a siren calling out from sea. She had singing lessons from the vault and learned proper breath control. Why? Maybe to seem more alluring when she wanted to) “Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I to disagree? I travel the world and the seven seas. Everybody’s looking for something….”

Gardio: *humming along with the others*

Lucille: *singing the “moving on” segments specifically*

Jasmine: (Echoing her voice in such a way that it sounds like there is multiple voices, a neat little trick she learned prewar) “Hold your head up, keep your head up, movin’ on. Hold your head up, movin’ on, keep your head up, movin’ on. Hold your head up, movin’ on, keep your head up, movin’ on. Hold your head up, movin’ on, keep your head up…” (Whistles and hums in place of the music, still ignoring everyone who has joined in)

Lucille: *Kind of stops cause it’s hard to keep up with the tune sounding so disjointed- especially with Jas ignoring everyone else singing, too. If there was any harmony, it’s kind of crushed by that fact alone*

Teshteal: *just joyously singing the chorus. No thoughts just Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This*

Jasmine: (Repeats the lines, wondering how far off they are. She has to ignore them and tell herself that they can’t hear her singing, otherwise it’s a violation to her programming and that has proven to be a catastrophe) “Some of them want to use you. Some of them want to get used by you. Some of them want to abuse you. Some of them want to be abused….” (Looks down at her bloodied hands) “Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I to disagree? I travel the world and the seven seas. Everybody’s looking for something….”

Lucille: *climbs into the boat at the dock and helps everyone aboard wordlessly. Even extends a hand to Jas, not that she’d need it… or even want it*

Jasmine: (Helps herself onto the boat without even looking at Lucille and her kind offer, pausing to adjust to the sensation of the gentle swaying while she hums the rest of the song)

Lucille: *sighs. Trying to not let Jas’s aloofness get to her. She’s starting to come off as stuck up to the older woman, though*

Jasmine: (Not allowed to accept help by her programming, “Help yourself” was always her answer when she walked around battered and bruised. They tried to trick her sometimes too, used to stick out their hands to offer help, then make things painfully worse for her)

Lucille: *staying silent about it. Isn’t going to say anything- she made a promise after all. Unties the boat and starts it up. She pulls out of port and sets sail to Far Harbor*

Gardio: *sets Nick down and sits with a sigh, looking out at the water*

Teshteal: *sitting really close to Gardio, just a bit uneasy about the ocean*

Jasmine: (Sitting in the furtherst corner from them on the small boat with her head in her knees, fighting the voices in her mind. She can’t help but to keep speculating and putting the pieces together) (Quietly to herself) “It is all one big lie, but you are not even suppose to be here anyways…”

@lucilleandherrobots

[tofueggnoodles]

Saiyuki Reload Blast Drama CD 2 – Track 2: Private Eye Sha Gojyo

Summary: On board a luxury cruise ship, private eye Sha Gojyo and his assistant Cho Hakkai attempt to solve the mystery of a missing art piece said to be worth five hundred million yen. They question the suspects, cloakroom attendants Genjo Sanzo and Son Goku.

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Gojyo: I’m Sha Gojyo, the great detective who accepts only beautiful women as clients. No case is beyond me. Yes! That’s because the Goddess of Deduction is deeply in love with me. A few days ago, I casually solved a case I encountered during another trip. As a reward, I received a couple of tickets for a trip on a luxurious cruise ship. However, I could never have imagined that we’d run into such an incident during the trip....

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Gojyo: Ah, what a nice breeze. Look, the harbor is already so far away.

Hakkai: Indeed, it is.

Gojyo: As expected, it’s all thanks to my talent that we’re able to board such a luxurious ship.

Hakkai: Ninety percent of it was due to the criminal’s confession, though.

Gojyo: As long as the case was solved, why should that matter?

Hakkai: That’s true, but....

Gojyo: What is it?

Hakkai: Well, it’s amazing that you’re able to correctly pinpoint the criminal with your so-called detective’s intuition. However, after you intimidate the criminal into confessing the reason behind their crime by glaring at them, it’s I, your assistant, who have to unravel the sequence of events behind the crime. Rather than a detective, I’d say you’re just good at intimidation ** –

Gojyo: There’s no need to go into minor details! (gulps down his drink) Ah, there’s nothing like having a fine drink while enjoying a view of the sea. From here on, let’s aim for a reputation as a couple of handsome detectives while we sail around the world in this ship.

Hakkai: I’m not going to stand in your way, but will you be all right?

Gojyo: Hah? What are you trying to say?

Hakkai: Won’t you feel nauseous if you drink alcohol while on board a swaying ship?

Gojyo: Ah? Hmm? Oh. Now that you mentioned it.... I’ve been feeling a bit off for quite a while. Urp. It’s as you said.

Hakkai: Watch your step. The ship’s swaying, so please be careful.

Gojyo: I know that– Whoa! (something flies into his face) What’s this doodle? People shouldn’t be throwing rubbish in a place like this! Ah–

(A loud gust of wind starts blowing.)

Hakkai: Gojyo! You mustn’t throw things into the sea.

Gojyo: I didn’t do such a thing! The wind blew it off – Urp. Crap, I’m gonna puke.

(A door is opened and closed.)

Hakkai: Good grief! Will he be all right?

Man: My goodness! If I’d known it’d come to this, I would’ve never left it there.

(He bumps into Hakkai.)

Man: Ah, excuse me!

Hakkai: It’s okay.

Man: My apologies. I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts. Ah, really, what should I do?

Hakkai: Um, you seem to be in a fix. What happened, if I may ask?

Man: To tell you the truth, the contents of the bag I left in the cloakroom have gone missing.

Hakkai: Eh?

Man: Normally, I always make sure to carry the bag with me. But, only whenever I go out to the deck, I leave the bag in the cloakroom to avoid the risk of it falling into the sea. And now, its contents have– (sobs)

Hakkai: Have you checked with the cloakroom attendant?

Man: Of course I have. But, they said they had no idea what could have happened. How should I say this.... There’s only one thing I can think of: the contents of my bag must have been stolen!

Hakkai: Please excuse my question, but what sort of thing was in your bag?

Man: It’s an art piece with an extremely high historical value. If I were to sell it, it would surely fetch the price of five hundred million.

Hakkai: Five hundred million?

Man: You’ll know immediately it’s a valuable piece of art just by looking at it. Ah! Could it be that someone must have realized that too and took the opportunity to steal it once I’d left my bag in the cloakroom? But, what should I do in order to find the thief?

Gojyo: I’ll solve this case! (kicks open the door) They call me the great detective, the likes of which only appear once every thousand years. The name’s Sha Gojyo, at your service.

Hakkai: Er, Gojyo....

Gojyo: Hah?

Hakkai: Your fly is open.

Gojyo: Seriously?! (zips himself up) Sorry about that. I took the opportunity to do my business in the toilet after I was done puking. (clears his throat) Now, I usually accept no-one but beautiful women as my clients, but ignoring those in trouble is an act which does not fit my profession either. I will make an exception this time and accept you as my client.

Hakkai: If we solve a case worth five hundred million, our fame will spread. As a result, we might get even more requests from beautiful women.

Gojyo: There’s no need to emphasize the ‘even’ part. **

Man: Er....

Hakkai: I beg your pardon. To tell you the truth, this man’s a private eye and I’m his assistant. I assure you, we have solved plenty of cases until now. Therefore, if you’re fine with it, would you leave this matter in our hands?

Man: Y–yes.

Hakkai: If it were as you said, that the art piece had been stolen, we should try to find the thief before the ship reaches its destination. Otherwise, you’ll never see the art piece again.

Man: Oh! In that case, please help me find the thief. The art piece is my precious fortune. One way or another, please find it!

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Sanzo: Some nerve you have, summoning us all of a sudden.

Goku: I was planning to eat every single item on the buffet during my break too....

Hakkai: Please pardon the abruptness. As a matter of fact, there’s something we’d like to ask you two in your capacities as cloakroom attendants.

Gojyo: Say, are you both really members of the ship crew? Especially you there?

Sanzo: Hah?

Gojyo: Your attitude toward us is unbelievably snobbish. We’re passengers too, you know.

Sanzo: I’m in the middle of a break now, so I don’t give a damn about things like passengers.

Goku: Regardless of whether he’s on or off duty, Sanzo’s always like this.

Gojyo: How horrible!

Hakkai: Calm down, Gojyo. Our first priority now is to move the conversation forward.

Gojyo: Yeah, you’re right. (clears his throat) They call me the great detective, the likes of which only appear once every thousand years. The name’s Sha Gojyo, at your service. This is my assistant, Cho Hakkai. And finally, the middle-aged man over there is our client.

Man: Er, hello.

Goku: Detective? It’s my first time meeting one.

Sanzo: And what does the detective want from us?

Gojyo: To tell you the truth, a theft has occurred on board this ship. We’ve been asked to solve the case. And the culprits are... you guys!

Goku: Eh?

Sanzo: What in the hell are you talking about?

Gojyo: When something disappears from the cloakroom, the obvious suspects are the cloakroom attendants.

Sanzo: Hmmph. So even an idiot can call himself a detective these days.

Gojyo: What did you just say?

Hakkai: Could you please stop talking for a bit, Gojyo? The conversation is going nowhere as it is. (to Sanzo and Goku) A few hours ago, the gentleman over there left his bag in the cloakroom. While it was in the cloakroom, a certain item in it was stolen by an unknown person.

Goku: A certain item?

Man: It’s an art piece. If I were to sell it, it’d probably fetch the price of five hundred million.

Goku: Five hundred million? That’s incredible!

Hakkai: Once we accepted the gentleman’s request to solve the theft case, our first step was to go to the cloakroom and explain the situation. There, we borrowed this from the cloakroom attendants who took over from you two. (waves a notebook)

Sanzo: That’s–

Goku: –the cloakroom register....

Hakkai: That’s right. The attendants who took over from you two showed us this register. According to it, from the time the gentleman left his bag to the time he returned for it, that is, from 15:00 to 15:30, no other passenger made use of the cloakroom.

Gojyo: In other words, since the two of you were in close proximity to the bag, you both are the likeliest suspects. At least, that’s what my intuition as a detective is telling me. Especially you, the blond one – you’re the most suspicious, I say.

Sanzo: Heh! An intuition that’s totally off the mark.

Gojyo: Then, let me ask you this: how much do you guys earn as cloakroom attendants?

Sanzo: Hah? Why do we have to tell you such a thing?

Gojyo: Unhappy with your low salaries as cloakroom attendants, the two of you happened to catch sight of the art piece in the bag this middle-aged man left with you. It’s obvious to anyone who sees it that it’s a valuable art piece, so having realized the worth in its beauty, you grabbed the chance to steal it while no-one else was around. Isn’t that right?

Goku: That’s not right, though. Because I have no money trouble at all.

Gojyo: Hah?

Goku: The buffet meals on this ship are free for the crew, you know. In short, even if one has no money, one can still eat as much as one likes. For me, as long as I can eat, I have no complaints.

Gojyo: Er–, well, then, instead of you two colluding with one another, you’re the sole culprit! (points at Sanzo)

Sanzo: Look at this.

Gojyo: Hah?

Sanzo: This is a credit card without a preset spending limit. I have no financial worries either.

Gojyo: Hah!? How come you own such a thing?

Sanzo: Therefore, I have no motive for stealing anything. That’s unfortunate for you, detective.

Gojyo: Even if you have no motive, it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a high probability you two are the culprits!

Goku: If you insist on that, why not check the video from the surveillance camera?

Gojyo: Eh?

Hakkai: Ah, that’s right.

Goku: Passengers forget their luggage numbers or insist they’ve left something with us when they really haven’t. These incidents often happen in the cloakroom, so we installed a surveillance camera to record everything.

Sanzo: What will you do? Will you check the surveillance camera?

Gojyo (sputtering): You bet we will! I’m sure we’ll find the irrefutable evidence of your crime on it!

--------

Hakkai: Well, here’s what we found on the surveillance video: Until the gentleman here returned to retrieve his bag, the two of you did not move away from the cloakroom reception at all. Moreover, we could see no suspicious conduct on your part when you handed the bag back to him. Based on these findings, it’s clear that it’s impossible for you two to have committed the theft.

Gojyo: I never thought the day would come when my intuition as a detective would miss the mark!

Hakkai: I’d thought it wouldn’t be strange for that day to come any time soon, though.

Gojyo: I could use a bit of back-up here, you know.

Man: Er– in that case, who on earth could have stolen my art piece? Don’t tell me you’re giving up on this case?

All others: Hmm.

Goku: How about searching the ship?

Gojyo: Hah?

Goku: The potential hiding spots on board the ship are limited, so the thief’s probably carrying the art piece on their person. Won’t it be faster to just look for a person who has the art piece in their possession [instead of looking for the art piece itself]?

Hakkai: Well, it’s supposed to be a splendid art piece worth five hundred million which also happens to fit inside a bag. Carrying it around in the open would be conspicuous.

Gojyo: Since we’re right in the middle of the sea, the culprit won’t be able to get away. (sighs) A thorough search with use of force is not really part of a detective’s job... but there’s no other way, I guess.

Man: Ah, you’re not giving up then?

Sanzo: So, in order to look for the culprit, you intend to utilize muscles instead of the power of deduction. Hah. You’re certainly the great detective, the likes of which only appear once every thousand years.

Gojyo: Shut up! Hey, pops! Give me a detailed description of the art piece. Like, what sort of fancy trimmings does it come in? Or what kind of precious stones is it set with?

Man: Its form is that of a pretty common piece of paper.

Gojyo: A piece of paper?

Man: Yes.

Hakkai: What’s the size?

Man: It’s quite small – about the size of my hand.

Gojyo: What’s drawn on it?

Man: A portrait of myself.

Gojyo: And that’s worth five hundred million?

Man: Anything drawn by an artist such as myself is sure to fetch a price in this range. As soon as anyone sets eyes on my work, they’ll definitely know it’s a valuable piece of art.

Gojyo: So you’re an artist! But, could such a small painting really be worth five hundred million?

Man: That’s how it goes when it comes to art.

Gojyo: Sorry, my bad! I’d have thought it’d be a statue made of gold or an antique item or something like that. Still, for it to potentially fetch such a price – you must be incredibly famous.

Man: Yes! I have no doubt that one day, my name will be widely known all over the world as that of a great artist’s.

Hakkai: Eh? One day?

Man: My talent is undeniable. I’m sure that portrait of mine will be worth five hundred million someday.

Gojyo: Hah!? Hold on! Isn’t the five hundred million just a number you plucked out of thin air?

Man: It’s not just a number I plucked out of thin air! The portrait’s sure to fetch that price in the distant future.

Gojyo: You’re still in the middle of delusion!

Sanzo: Hmmph. Putting a price of five hundred million on a mere doodle – you’re either a person who has great confidence in himself or a great fool.

Goku: Sanzo! That’s going too far. He’s a passenger after all, you know.

Sanzo: Even if he’s a passenger, if he’s an idiot, he’s an idiot.

Goku: That’s true, but....

Hakkai: Er, you said it’s a small piece of paper, didn’t you? We’re on board a ship. Could it not have been blown away by the wind?

Man: Eh?

Hakkai: After retrieving your bag from the cloakroom, in order to check its contents, you opened your bag, didn’t you? Where did you open it?

Man: Yes, I did open it. I was on the deck at that time.

Gojyo: That means there’s the possibility that you could have dropped your painting on the deck, right?

Man: It hasn’t been stolen then?

Hakkai: No-one went in or out of the cloakroom. These two cloakroom attendants have no motive and displayed no suspicious behavior. Thus, the possibility is high that the painting could’ve simply fallen off instead of being stolen.

Man: Oh... now that you say that....

Goku: In this case, you’ll surely find it. That’s great, isn’t it, pops?

Man: But, for me to try finding such a small painting on my own–

Gojyo (sighs): There's no help for it. We’ve gone too far to turn back. Let’s split up and search for the painting.

Goku: I’ll help out too.

Man: Thank you very much, everyone!

Gojyo: Setting aside the question of whether or not it’s really worth five hundred million, fulfilling a client’s request is important for maintaining my professional credibility.

Hakkai: Indeed it is. Since it’s come to this point, I’ll go along with you until the end.

Gojyo: So, in which part of the deck did you open your bag?

Man: Around the spot where I came across the two of you.

Hakkai: Eh?

Gojyo: Alright, let’s go! Hmm? What’s the matter, Hakkai?

Hakkai: Gojyo....

Gojyo: Hmm?

Hakkai: A small piece of paper with a doodle on it – any recollection of that?

Gojyo: Eh?

(Flashback begins.)

Gojyo: Whoa! (something flies into his face) What’s this doodle? People shouldn’t be throwing rubbish in a place like this! Ah–

(A loud gust of wind starts blowing.)

(Flashback ends.)

Man: Hah? You threw it into the sea?

Gojyo: I did not! The wind blew it off–

Man (cries): My piece of art! How heartless of you!

Gojyo: Heartless? No, as I said, it was not my fault! A strong gust of wind just happened to be blowing by chance and... er... right, Hakkai? You saw it too, right?

Hakkai: Nope. I was not able to see your movement just at that precise moment.

Gojyo: Oi!

Sanzo: In other words, there’s no evidence to back your claim that the painting was blown away by the wind.

Goku: You’re in for it.

Gojyo: Hey! Why are you guys talking as if I’m the one at fault?

--------

Gojyo: And so the case of the theft on board the ship came to an end, the sole blot on the great detective Sha Gojyo’s record. At what point have I offended the Goddess of Deduction, for her to have turned her back on me? Oh well, I suppose that’s how it is with a lady’s fickle affections. In order to regain her favor, I’m moving on to the next case, wherever that might be.

--------

Hakkai: Before you move on to the next case, it’d be bad if you leave the current one unsolved.

Man (still crying): My piece of art!

Gojyo: As I said, that was the wind’s fault!

Sanzo: You’ll have to compensate him for his loss – of five hundred million.

Gojyo: Hah? You were the one who said the painting was not worth that much.

Man: Well then, Mister Detective, shall we move over there and discuss the details between the two of us?

Gojyo: Eh? Eh?

Hakkai: Ah, Gojyo, sorry for springing this on you suddenly, but I think it’s about time for me to go independent and set up my own private detective agency. Thank you for looking after me all this time.

Gojyo: Eh? Hey, are you abandoning me?

Man: Let’s go.

Gojyo: Wait! Calm down! I won’t accept this!

--------

Note:

(Round brackets): actions and sound effects. [Square brackets]: translator’s notes and clarifications. Double asterisks **: Stuff I am not sure of.

The original title is a pun which I’m sadly not able to convey in English. “Meitantei” could mean either “great detective” or “inept detective”, depending on the kanji used.

Also, the VA of the “great artist” sounds exactly like the guy, uh, customer who harassed Gojyo in One-Day Store Manager.