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lunajay33 · 1 year

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Hope Part.4🧟‍♀️

Summary: After Daryl was taken away by Negan for months he finally escaped and was reunited with y/n, now is time to work out all the details with the baby coming soon but things don’t go as planned

•Masterlist•

I was 9 months pregnant now and the last two months with Daryl have been everything I could’ve dreamed of, I was just glad he was here for the last few months of the pregnancy and for when I give birth

(Im gonna skip over some stuff just so it goes with my story, just go along with it)

“Daryl?” I asked as I rolled over in bed but he wasn’t there, I got up and looked all around the house and I couldn’t find him

I ran out of the house looking everywhere, the pantry, the look out, everywhere

“DARYL?” I screamed starting to panic

“Oh no no no” the tears were streaming down my face and I felt like I couldn’t breath

What if he never came back, what is this was all a dream and he was still with Negan and was never here

I sank to the ground, crying as all these horrible thoughts ran through my head

“Y/n? What wrong?” I looked up and it was Carol

“Carol, I can’t find Daryl, he’s gone, was it all a dream and he never came back” she kneeled down and wiped away my tears but they just kept falling

“Come on, come with me sweetie” Carol always treated me with such kindness

We walked towards Aaron’s house and around the back to see the garage open, that’s when I saw him working on a bike

He looked up at me and smiled but that quickly went away when he saw I was crying

He was in front of me in an instant

“Baby what’s wrong, are ya hurt?” He asked as he brushed my hair back and wiped my tears away just like Carol did

“I woke up and you were gone, I..I couldn’t find you anywhere and I thought….” I didn’t wanna say it, it was so embarrassing but Carol said it for me

“She thought it was a dream that you came back she thought you never came back” she said giving Daryl a look I couldn’t figure out, they always had their own way of talking

“Oh baby I’m so sorry, you’ve been so tired lately with the pregnancy that I wanted to let ya sleep in, I’m sorry I scared ya” he said as he pulled me into a hug

I hide my face in his chest and holding him tight just wanting to stay here with him forever

“Didn’t know this would still scare ya” he stated

“Im always scared that once you leave you’ll never come back and I won’t have you again” I said feeling the tears begin to bubble in my eyes again

“Ya should have told me”

“Im sorry, I just didn’t want to stress you out more I know you’re really stressed with all the walkers in that pit you guys have to deal with” I said looking up at him

“That’ll all be over after today hopefully, but still ya should’ve told me, you’re my number one forever, I don’t care what I have going on always tell me if somethins bothering ya okay?”

“Okay I will” I say smiling as he leaned down and pulled me into the sweetest kiss

“Ya know I love ya”

“I know, I love you too handsome” and I said a little blush form on his cheeks, it happens everytime I call him that and it’s the cutest thing

“Daryl, Rick is ready to go he wanted me to get you” Carol said as she called out, I didn’t even notice her leave

“I gotta go know but I’ll come back to ya, I always will” he smiles as we walk to where everyone is gathering at the gate

He gets on his bike and starts it up

I gave him one last kiss and pulled something out to give him making sure he comes back

“Here, just something to hold onto just in case something happens” I handed him a ultrasound picture that I have been holding onto for a long time, forgetting to show him

“Baby, nothing will happen” he said smiling at the picture as he placed it in his pocket

“But just in case” I smiled as he squeezed my hand and they each drove off one by one until Rick was the last one

“Please make sure he’s okay, no matter what happens, make sure you both come back safely” I asked

“Ill bring him home y/n, now go rest that baby is gonna pop any day now” he smiled then drove off and the gates were closed

I couldn’t sit alone and think about him all day, I’d go crazy so I decided to find Carol and stay with her today

I walked into the kitchen of her place to see her baking cookies

“Hey Carol would it be okay if I spent the day with you?” I asked as I sat at the island

“Of course dear, I’m gonna be working around so hopefully it helps distract you”

“Thanks Carol”

We ate some cookies then walked to the garden and worked there for a few hours that’s when a huge sound rang through the town

I stayed close to Carol and that’s when we saw the watch tower fall crushing one of the walls

We saw people rushing in killing people in the streets, I felt frozen until Carol grabbed my hand and led us to the infirmary with Denise, a few others were in there already

“Y/n you stay here do not leave no matter what” carol said as she ran out the door

The others blocked the door and windows, leaving a little slit to check outside

“Something went wrong out there” I said panicking all over again

“Hey we just have to stay calm and wait” Rosita said as she sat me down and the infirmary bed that’s when I felt a gush of water run down my legs

“Oh god no please not now” I cried

“Y/n your water broke” Denise said

“I can’t do this, I need him here, I can’t do it without him” I said feeling like the universe was against me

“It will be okay he’ll make it” Aaron said as he rubbed my arm

“Here change into this” Denise said as she handed me a medical gown

She closed the curtain around the bed and Rosita helped me change, she was one of my best friends so I didn’t care, I turned and she tied up the string on the back of the gown

For the next few hours we just heard groans from the walkers that filled the streets outside which didn’t help me relax

My contractions were getting stronger but Denise said I was still a ways away from beginning to push

It was dark outside now and Daryl still wasn’t back none of them were that was until Aaron started unlocking the door

“Aaron what the hell are you doing?” Rosita asked

“Its Rick and Michonne, somethings wrong with Carl” they burst in and laid Carl in the bed next to mine

“Oh god” I said feeling faint

His eye was gone, Rick was freaking out and he left doing gods know what, but if he was back then where was Daryl

I sat up and let my legs hang over the bed, just trying to breath but the noises around me was making everything worse

Rosita came in front of me and placed headphones over my ears that was connected to a little Walkman

I smiled at her thankfully, she always knew what I needed

I let the music calm me down as I closed my eyes imagining that Daryl was next to me right now, to help me through this pain

Another hour went by and Denise finished patching Carl up but I was growing more uncomfortable and I knew it was time to push, I wanted Daryl but I had to do this for my little girl

“Denise its time, I have to push” i stated preparing myself for the pain

I sat up as she got ready between my legs and Rosita held my hand with Aaron ready next to Denise incase she needs an extra pair of hands

“Okay y/n push” I pushed with all I could and the pain was excrutiating but I couldn’t make a noise or the walkers would come

I pushed 3 more times and that’s when all the pressure released and I heard her cries

Denise laid her on my chest, I looked down at her and she was beautiful and she immediately calmed down when she was in my arms

“Oh y/n she’s adorable” Rosita whispered as she cleaned the sweat off my face

She was a perfect mix of me and daryl, dark hair, blue eyes, she was just beautiful I couldn’t look away from her

“Im gonna clean her up okay, you should rest” Rosita said as she took her from my arms

“Be gentle please” I whispered as I passed out from exhaustion

When I woke up I saw a little baby bin next to my bed

I sat up and pulled it close to see her all fresh and sleeping, wrapped in a blue blanket

“How long have I been asleep?” I asked Rosita as she was sat next to the bed

“Not long about an hour”

“He’s still not back?” I asked

She just shook her head

I picked her up out of the bed and she whined, I pulled down my gown and let her feed for a while until she was full and she slowly fell back asleep

“So what will you name her?” Rosita asked

“Im not sure yet, I wanna wait for Daryl” that’s when the door bursted open and it was Daryl

“Daryl, you’re back” I smiled still tired

“Fuck, I can’t believe I missed this” he grunted as he came and sat next to me on the bed

“Isnt she beautiful Daryl” I said as he looked down at her in my arms

He was silent, as I placed her in his arms and I saw him start to cry

“Thank you, thank you for giving me this amazing gift” he said looking back at me

“I wish you were here, but I’m glad you came back” I said pulling him into a strong kiss

“Ill be here for the next one” he smirked

“What’re we gonna name her?” I asked

“What about…….Harlow?” He said

“I love it, our little Harlow”

(Guys lmk how you liked this story!!:))

Taglist: @itsmytimetoodream

#daryl dixion imagine #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twd daryl #negan smith #twd negan #twd fluff #twd michonne #twd maggie #twd carl #twd carol #twd rick

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kradogsrats · 2 years

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okay who’s ready for some real crazy-eyes red-string-and-pins-web shit about Soren and Viren’s upcoming arc

So when Aaravos taunts the gang via possessed Callum, he’s digging in on insecurities about roles that they have, for good or ill, made central to their identities. Ezran wishes to be the king his father wanted him to be, Rayla craves the assurance of a stable and valued place among her family and people that she thinks being a successful assassin would bring, Soren has chased his father’s love for his entire life, and of course Callum has based his identity on being a mage that is not a dark mage since season one, and already had a season-long journey about it.

Now, having set this up, and because they were pretty well-established character arc conflicts already, we are presumably going to get some payoff as each character wrestles with the questions it raises. You could phrase those a bunch of different ways depending on the individual character, but they all boil down to either being able to conquer the insecurity and make the role their own, or being able to let go of the role entirely and embark on a new path. So for example:

Ezran might conquer his insecurity in being king by facing challenges related to that and overcoming them, or he might release/redefine his idea of what kind of king he should be.

Rayla will probably have to work to release the expectations she holds for herself to conform perfectly to her society’s standards, but will hopefully also overcome her core insecurity with validation from her parents/Runaan.

Callum will have to deal with the vulnerability of being an avenue for Aaravos due to his single use of dark magic, and either find a way to nullify that or at least forgive himself for his perceived failure of unknowingly putting his loved ones in danger. Or he could go all-in on the dark magic, I’m not gonna judge.

BUT SOREN. Soren, Soren, Soren.

On the face of it, Soren’s path forward is obvious: accept that he will never have his father’s love or validation, and instead learn to love and validate himself. He was actually pretty much there when he thought Viren was dead, since that would mean changing their relationship is impossible. He’s gone, it’s over--focus on the living, i.e. Claudia. Now that Viren is alive again, Soren will have to re-confront a lot of stuff that he thought was settled, which is tough in its own right. It’s a straightforward (which is definitely not to say easy) journey of emotional growth that we have been rooting for Soren to have since the first season.

But look at Aaravos’s exact words regarding Soren. Aaravos ostensibly never lies, but that pronoun is doing some... presumptive lifting for the listeners. The interpretation we expect is “The failed son (Soren), whose father (Viren) wishes he (Soren) had never been born.” But there’s enough grammatical ambiguity there that you could also read it as “The failed son (Soren), whose father (Viren) wishes he (Viren) had never been born.”

Now, do I think Viren is self-loathing enough to wish he had never existed? Not really. Even in s4, he doesn’t really seem to regret anything in the sense of feeling it was wrong of him to do it. But a more nuanced question is whether he could perhaps wish that he had not been re-born. Does s4 Viren maybe wish Claudia had left well enough alone?

Honestly, I would probably say YEAH. At least a little bit. He’s traumatized, directionless, his daughter is on the way to destroying herself... things would be a lot less shitty if he simply hadn’t been born (again).

Notable also is that this scene is intercut with the emergence of Sir Sparklepuff, which is a scene where Viren is pretty dang low. It’s the scene where he’s most reluctant to accept the staff, refusing it several times until Claudia takes over in frustration... and then handily demonstrates that she definitely doesn’t need him anymore, and there’s objectively no reason for him to be there. He’s not hopeful about their chances of success in their mission, he’s more than a little reluctant about freeing the chrysalis being, and he essentially doesn’t have anything going for him re: “why bother” besides the fact that if he gives up, Claudia will have suffered for nothing. If there was a time to really wish none of this shit was happening... that would be it.

So basically, Aaravos’s taunt to Soren could actually not describe Viren’s feelings about Soren at all.

I don’t think that changes the anticipated emotional arc for Soren--he absolutely should grow and accept that how Viren treated him was shitty, and it’s okay to feel some kind or kinds of ways about it, and his value as a person isn’t determined by that. Maybe he’ll be able to save Claudia, maybe he’ll have to come to terms with being unable to. He has a found family that loves him. But it does change is leaving open the possibility that Soren could have that growth and ultimately receive the closure of, y’know... hearing his dad say that he’s proud of him once.

#the dragon prince #soren #viren #look i'm soft okay #i just want ONE time #kradogsmeta

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werewolf-cl4ws · 2 years

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Hello again! Another long gap between posts but for the last few months creative stuff has been kinda hard/not quite hitting the right notes.

But I stumbled onto some folks doing "Wholesome Sonic and Tails Wednesdays" and it set me off on my current obsession on just wanting to dive a little more into my version of these two's relationship and such.

But this is also me and I had to connect it to some angst . Or more specifically my AU of an AU involving my TimeSkip stuff where Sally is the one that goes missing and I accidentally made it more traumatising for Sonic lol

This got long, too. Like 7916 words long. I don't know how long that takes to read but I did want to warn people that it got long just in case.

I've also never done content warnings before so bear with me here. There's mentions of trauma, disordered eating, and old people being yelled at. I'm trying to be more mindful of content I write for warnings just in case.

I also made a universal tag for this version of my TimeSkip AU so they're easier to find. Hopefully. This is Tumblr.

It was a little after midday when Tails ventured towards the edge of Neo Knothole, his breath puffing white in the chilled air as he stomped through the fresh layer of snow that had fallen the night before.

To him it wasn’t too cold, his thicker winter coat along with his padded jacket making short work of the cold, but the village was quiet at this time of the day as almost everyone had retreated indoors to escape the ever lowering temperatures. Even on this journey Tails swore he encountered maybe two other mobians the most, and they too were also heading indoors, not wanting to deal with the cold any more than they had to.

Which meant that maybe, just maybe, he could convince a certain recluse of a hedgehog outside.

For the last couple of days Bunnie had been ill, unfortunately thanks to the winter chill she had caught a particularly nasty cold that all but completely knocked the cyborg rabbit off her feet. She had tried valiantly to continue her duties of watching over the village, but after barely making it through the first day of her illness the remaining Freedom Fighters had forced her to go to bed and rest, and took turns to make sure she stayed put while attending to other duties in her absence.

Before she reluctantly gave in, Bunnie had also asked Tails to check in on Sonic to make sure that in Bunnie’s absence he didn’t fall into his own trap of bitter solitude. Which he was doing now that he had finally gotten a small break from his imposed duties.

Tails couldn’t help the wince of sympathy at the thought. It had been about seven months since Sonic’s return, maybe more, and the hedgehog was... Tails wasn’t really sure what he could say about Sonic’s current condition. Sonic had gone through many changes – both figuratively and literally – and they had all compounded into making Sonic withdraw from the world. Doubly so since he had his own hut built, where he had chosen to have located so far out from the rest of the village that Tails felt like he was trekking into an unknown world through the snow to reach him.

Up until this point Bunnie had been mainly looking after Sonic, with Bookshire’s help and on occasion the other Freedom Fighters in the rare moments that Sonic allowed them to. Tails had stepped in a few times himself, and whenever he did Sonic always seemed okay, but Tails could sense the underlining misery Sonic was trying to hide from him, which made Sonic gently push the fox away for both their sakes.

It probably didn’t help Sonic either that Sally was still missing, and with his main voice of reason and means of grounding himself gone, the hedgehog seemed to be utterly lost and endlessly spiralling in this new chapter.

Tails’ chest tightened at the reminder of his adoptive aunt’s disappearance, and he forced a gulp of freezing air into his lungs to get it to loosen. Everyone was feeling Sally’s absence, but Sonic had been gone when Sally went missing, so Tails could imagine how shocking that would have been to him. So much so that everyone feared that it actually broke him.

Well, despite all that, Tails still wanted to make an attempt. He just prayed that he could catch Sonic in one of his seemingly rare good graces today.

Eventually he reached Sonic’s hut, and took a moment to stand on his porch and catch his breath before knocking on the door. He waited, his long ears perked for any signs of life inside, then frowned when he heard nothing. The fox tried again, only to get the same result, and for a brief moment Tails wondered if maybe Sonic had actually left his hut for once on his own accord.

Glancing around himself Tails quickly dismissed the thought. Sonic hated the cold, and under normal circumstances he would usually do anything in his power to stay inside where it was warm. The cold would just be another reason for Sonic to back up his antisocial behaviour.

When no signs of life made themselves obvious however Tails sighed, and took a chance with the doorhandle. To his surprise the door was unlocked, and he pushed the door open to allow himself inside.

The hut was dark, with only some spots of light coming through the few shutters that weren’t completely shut or blocked by the forest surrounding Sonic’s hut outside. Tails’ night vision was able to kick in thanks to those bits of light, which allowed him to take in the disarray the hut had gotten into.

Sonic had always been a messy mobian, but Tails always remembered Sonic’s hut being more organised chaos than a straight up mess. Tails had to wonder if it always looked like this, or if everything began piling up after Bunnie got sick and stopped checking in on Sonic. Tails also wondered how Sonic managed to accumulate so much stuff in such a short amount of time – even with the few belongings Tails had managed to salvage from Knothole for Sonic on the chance of his return, he doubted he had managed to save this much.

As Tails looked around his eyes focused onto Sonic’s bed, spotting what looked like the hedgehog’s entire collection of blankets piled on top of it, and somewhere in that mass a pillow. The only thing that gave Sonic’s true position away was his long tail sticking out from under the blankets, as he could see and hear the tip of it slapping irritably against the floorboards. Which told Tails that Sonic was awake, and aware of his presence.

“No,” Sonic muttered, his voice muffled yet stern.

“I haven’t even said anythin’ yet,” Tails sighed as he stepped closer to Sonic’s side, making sure to glance down at the floor with each step so that he wouldn’t trip over anything.

To his surprise however the tip of Sonic’s tail stopped twitching, and Sonic lifted his pillow just enough so that he could peek out from under it so he could look at Tails. In the darkness Sonic’s amber eyes reflected strangely, for a brief moment making the hedgehog look wild to Tails, and his slit pupils widened as they tried to catch more light to see better.

“Oh. Hey, Big Guy,” Sonic greeted one he spotted Tails, all traces of any annoyance gone from his voice. “Wha’ are you doin’ here?”

As he said this Sonic pushed himself into a sitting position, dragging his mountain of blankets with him. In that instance Tails wished he could point out the irony of being referred to his old term of endearment, but knew better as he didn’t want to upset Sonic.

Tails by now was thirteen, and puberty had hit him with a growth spurt that shot him up to almost five foot in height, maybe more. While to an average Mobian that would be considered tall, Sonic’s own growth spurt thanks to his mutation made him tower over everyone at over six foot, beating Tails easily.

His height, combined with the other changes his mutation had granted him, gave Sonic a pretty imposing silhouette that made him stand out, which Sonic was very, very aware of. Hence his new habit of becoming a recluse whenever he wasn’t being badgered by Bunnie into forced social interactions.

Which hadn’t been happening since Bunnie was sick, and Tails realised that Sonic was most likely enjoying the peace. If one could call this enjoying. Which Tails couldn’t considering what he was seeing at the moment.

“Bunnie wanted me to check up on you,” Tails explained, his ear twitching at the frustrated huff that shoved itself out of Sonic’s chest. “She’s uh, she’s actually sick at the moment.”

The brief grimace of annoyance that had crossed Sonic’s face dropped, instantly replaced by genuine concern at the mention of his friend being sick. Which brought some relief to Tails, as he had to admit there were some days where Sonic’s compassion for others got swallowed completely by his own mental baggage. Tails understood why it happened, but the stark contrast of genuine indifference verses Sonic’s bluntness was staggering to Tails.

“She’s sick? What’s wrong wit’ her?” Sonic asked as he turned to face Tails completely, though his hunched his shoulders greatly to make himself appear somewhat smaller. Even then he still almost towered Tails, but now they were at least at each other’s eye level.

“It’s nothin’ serious, just a bad cold,” Tails assured. “She’s been in bed for the last three days now.”

“Three days? Shit, it must be hittin’ her hard,” Sonic winced. “So why are you here? Ain’t someone lookin’ after her?”

“We’re keepin’ an eye on her, ‘nd she’s restin’ up most o’ the time,” Tails explained. “But I’m here ‘cause she told me to make sure you’re not holin’ yourself up in here while she’s out o’ action.”

Sonic huffed a short laugh and waved Tails off, before wrapping his blankets closer around himself so he could lie back down.

“You don’t need to do that, just worry about Bunnie,” Sonic assured. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere or doin’ nothin’ so you don’t need to be here.”

“But you do need to be goin’ somewhere ‘nd doin’ somethin’, you can’t just stay in here all the time,” Tails pointed out. “So get up ‘nd get dressed.”

Sonic tilted his head at Tails, giving him a deadpan look for being ordered around. Most of the time Sonic rebelled hard whenever Bunnie tried to coax him to do anything, still very much in the mindset of everything feeling pointless and not wanting to be part of the world.

But he did this because he knew Bunnie was just as stubborn as he was, more so whenever it came to someone’s wellbeing, and could handle him being a jerk on his rough days. With Tails it was a little harder to want to push back, even when every fibre of his being wanted to.

Which is probably why Bunnie sent Tails over to him in her absence.

Sonic sighed, the sound rolling into a soft growl at the back of his throat. He pulled one half of his blanket cocoon away from himself to reveal that he was wearing something, though Tails noticed that they were obviously Sonic’s night clothes.

“I mean get dressed in somethin’ for the day. It’s pretty cold outside,” Tails clarified, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“I thought you were tryin’ to convince me to get outta here,” Sonic gritted. “’nd either way no. I feel like shit ‘nd don’t wanna do nothin’.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ve been in here for three days straight doin’ nothin’,” Tails pointed out, making Sonic roll his eyes. “C’mon. Just come outside for a bit, please?”

“Why? I’m just gonna end up back here anyway,” Sonic retorted.

“Do you have food?” Tails asked. “’nd on top o’ that have you eaten at all?”

“’course I have,” Sonic gritted, though as he said this Sonic’s eyes flicked away from Tails, making the fox frown. “’nd I’ve got food, so I don’t have to go anywhere.”

“Show me.”

With a flurry of frustration Sonic threw his blanket cocoon off him, then stalked over to his kitchen cupboard. Before Bunnie got sick she had been helping Sonic keep his food supplies topped up, giving him supplies that he could store without the risk of them spoiling too fast and make a decent enough meal with very little effort. Between that she would make him some meals and treats – which were limited given their own food surpluses – as she was at a point that she had to convince Sonic to eat as his low points even made eating seem like a hassle.

“There, look,” Sonic stated as he threw open his cupboard.

Only to realise that there wasn’t anything in said cupboard, not even a scrap of what used to be in there to show any proof that he did have food in there at one stage. Somehow Sonic had managed to go through his supplies without realising it, and considering how easily he lost track of time, Sonic wouldn’t be able to tell anyone when he had last ate either.

Sonic slapped the cupboard shut, and pointedly looked away from Tails.

“Don’t look,” Sonic muttered.

“Get dressed, we’re gettin’ food,” Tails retorted.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“I don’t but I dislike you a lot.”

This was said as Sonic stalked back towards his dresser, barely giving Tails another glance as he could feel the smugness radiating from the fox. Which made him a little resentful at how powerless he was at the moment. Sonic knew he could easily shove Tails out of his hut and slam the door in his face, but Sonic still had enough sense in his mind to not be that much of a jerk.

At least for now.

He still rebelled by taking his time in getting dressed, on the off chance that if he dragged this ordeal out long enough Tails would give in. However when he emerged from his bathroom Sonic couldn’t help but wilt a little at the seemingly infinite amount of patience Tails was still showing. The fox even had the nerve to nod approvingly at seeing Sonic dressed and groomed to look somewhat presentable, despite the fact that Sonic had done the very bare minimum there also.

“The second someone stares at me I’m out,” Sonic warned as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, still needing to show some defiance at his current situation.

“There’s hardly anyone around, ‘nd even then I can’t stop them from lookin’,” Tails reasoned. “You need to give this a chance.”

“I don’t like it when they stare,” Sonic huffed.

Tails’ ears twitched at the way Sonic’s voice wavered with those words, and some of his resilience withered. Bunnie had warned him about how hard it was to get Sonic to do, well, anything, which was a stark contrast to what Tails was used to with the hedgehog. It was part of why Bunnie had taken it upon herself to work with Sonic, and the last few months after Sonic’s return Tails hadn’t had much contact with Sonic as he would have liked despite the circumstances.

He still only knew a few details of what exactly Sonic had been through during his disappearance, just enough to understand why Sonic’s wasn’t himself. The growth spurt from his mutation after his return didn’t help matters either. But it still hurt to see everything compounding onto Sonic and dragging him down into this misery when once upon a time hardly anything could bring Sonic down.

It only made Tails want to fight harder, as he was sure if the roles were reversed Sonic would be dragging Tails out of his hut kicking and screaming just to help him out of whatever funk he was in.

“If they stare for more than ten seconds we can come back,” Tails offered. “Normal seconds.”

Sonic’s ears perked at the offer, then his frown deepened.

“Five seconds,” Sonic countered.

“Ten,” Tails rebutted.

“Four.”

“Nine.”

“Six.”

“Eight or I’m droppin’ the offer.”

“Ugh, fine!”

Tails led Sonic to the village, making sure to keep his pace even with the hedgehog so that he could keep him in his sights at all times. Both so that he could make sure that Sonic wasn't getting genuinely overwhelmed, and to keep an eye out for any signs that he was going to do a runner despite their agreement. Not that Tails had any way of stopping Sonic really, but after enduring more debating and rebelling from him Tails wanted to make this last for at least a good while before either of them threw in the towel.

After a few minutes of trekking through the snow the two reached the centre of the village, and Tails glanced back at Sonic to see how he was fairing. The hedgehog held his head low, his hands deep in the front pocket of his hoodie, and while he didn't shows signs that he was preparing to do a runner, the combination of being outside in the cold and doing something against his will had left him looking quite sour. Tails felt his heart drop a little at Sonic's expression, and wondered if he could keep this up. He was determined to keep Sonic occupied in Bunnie's absence, but the thought of genuinely upsetting Sonic didn't sit well with him.

It wasn't helping either that as they walked through the village Tails realised that there were more mobians out and about than he had previously seen. They were most likely doing some last minute chores or errands before they hunkered down for the night that seemed to come earlier and earlier every day, but Tails had still hoped that they would have been inside way earlier than now.

When some of the villagers saw Tails they greeted him warmly, but true to Sonic's prediction their friendly demeanours faltered the second they spotted Sonic, some even stilling in their tracks with clear fear on their faces that Tails was barely able to break them out of by greeting them back.

Tails kept moving, not wanting to look at Sonic or his own reaction, but at the corner of his eye he could see Sonic's pace starting to slow as he fell back, each stare making him flinch like he had been struck. Tails mentally cursed at the villagers, and fell back so he could be by Sonic's side again.

"C'mon, we'll just grab some food from the Mess Hall," Tails reminded Sonic, hoping that his voice sounded more confident than he felt.

Right at that moment another villager came by them, and just like the others they stopped and stared at Sonic. Tails almost barked at them to keep moving, but stopped himself when Sonic yanked the hood of his hoodie hard over his head and pulled the drawstrings to hide his face from the villagers.

"I'm pretty sure that was more than eight seconds, Tails," Sonic growled, pointedly looking ahead of himself as he waited for the villager to leave.

Tails felt his heart drop at the clear anger in Sonic's voice, and when he tried to answer he felt himself get tongue-tied, what little confidence he had on handling the situation gone in an instant. Even with Sonic's face obscured Tails could see he was glaring at him too, and Tails had to remind himself not to stare in fear at the hedgehog himself in that moment.

"Fox boy! Stop right there, fox boy!"

Now fear snapped through the fox, and in an instant he grabbed Sonic by his arm and yanked him forward to force him to keep walking.

"No Tails, I'm done! Wha' the hell are you doin'?" Sonic snapped. He tried to pull his arm away from Tails, only to be surprised by the death-like grip he had on him.

"Please just keep walkin'," Tails hissed, before he yelped as he was suddenly pulled back by his shoulder.

Sonic was nearly taken back with him, and he turned to try to figure out what had just happened. Only to discover the grouchiest old possum he had ever seen in his entire life standing in front of Tails and giving him a glare that Sonic swore could turn a field of flowers brown in an instant.

Tails meanwhile wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, but when that didn't happen he addressed the possum, his smile crooked and forced.

"Oh hey, Mr. Rootgravel. I didn't see--"

"Don't you "Hey Mr. Rootgravel" me, fox boy!" the possum interrupted, banging the end of his walking stick into the snowy ground with every word. "You said you were going to fix my fence. And it still hasn't been done!"

Tails barely hid a wince, his ears folding back briefly as he took a soft breath to try to centre himself. He hadn’t expected this particular villager to be out at this time of the day, only because the older possum seemed to haunt Tails’ shadow in the earlier hours of the day. He glanced in Sonic’s direction, noticing the hint of confusion in his eyes, but there was still a good amount of frustration there, too, which made Tails realise he needed to sort this out quickly before he had two angry mobians in his hands.

“Mr. Rootgravel I told you, it doesn’t need fixin’,” Tails explained. “I even checked it yesterday.”

“No, you said you would fix it! And I saw you looking at it yesterday, you barely gave it a glance!” Mr. Rootgravel snapped.

“I did look at it, ‘nd it’s fine. There’s nothin’ for me to do to it,” Tails explained, his voice just barely levelled.

“Now you’re just being lazy! I was told that you and those two other boys were in charge of the village and you’ve been doing squat for no one. Why the village has been left in charge of a little brat like you I’ll never know, you young ones wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it bit you in the face,” Mr Rootgravel ranted, his voice rising in volume as he rambled.

Tails gaped at the possum, looking like he had just been punched in the gut. He tried to say something back, but like before he became tongue-tied, his words just forming so thickly in his mouth that he couldn’t speak.

As he struggled Sonic frowned at the display, then stepped over so that he was slightly in between Tails and Mr. Rootgravel, trying to coax Tails into standing behind him so that he could shield off any more attacks from the old man.

“Hey, pal. That doesn’t sound like Tails at all. Lay off him, wouldja?” Sonic stated, holding his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

Unlike the other villagers, Mr Rootgravel didn’t seem to recognise Sonic, instead only seeing him as a tall loudmouth that was covering his face. So he jabbed Sonic in the chest with his walking stick, pulling out a sharp yelp from Sonic.

“Stay out of this, stringbean!” Mr. Rootgravel snapped, giving Sonic another few jabs in the chest in an attempt to make him back off.

Before anyone could react, Sonic grabbed the walking stick and yanked it clean out of Mr. Rootgravel’s hand. Without breaking eye contact with the possum Sonic tossed the stick aside, and Tails watched as it sailed over a good few metres away from them, landing on a hut’s roof.

Stunned, Tails turned back to Mr. Rootgravel and watched as he gaped at Sonic, then his face twisted into a new wave of anger that turns his salt and pepper fur red in the face.

“That’s my walking stick! I need that!” Mr. Rootgravel hollered.

“Then you shouldn’t o’ poked me wit’ it, you old fart!” Sonic snarled, and Tails swore a part of his soul died right there and then. “Now wha’ the hell is your deal anyway?”

“You can’t hear me up there?!” Mr. Rootgravel yelled, then cupped his hands over his mouth in an exaggerated imitation of a megaphone. “I said this lazy fox boy needs to fix my fence. Now!”

“’nd he said it doesn’t need fixin’!” Sonic boomed back.

“It does! And I want it done now!”

“Show me this stupid fence,” Sonic snarled.

“Not without my walking stick, stringbean.”

Sonic rolled his eyes, then cocked his head towards where he had tossed the stick.

“Get the stupid thin’ down so we can get this sorted out, Tails,” Sonic muttered.

Tails winced at the request, then slinked up to Sonic’s side, his tails curling around his legs.

“It’s okay, I can look at it later. You don’t have to do this,” Tails mumbled.

Sonic shook his head, tossing another frown at Mr. Rootgravel before he looked at Tails.

“He’s not gonna fuck off until he thinks this is sorted. ‘nd I ain’t leavin’ you alone wit’ him,” Sonic assured. “Just go get the stupid stick.”

Tails hesitated, but when he glanced at Mr. Rootgravel once more the old man was glaring daggers at the two of them, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for someone to do something. Tails sighed and twirled his namesakes to fetch down the walking stick, but he couldn’t help but feel frustrated at this turn of events.

Once Tails retrieved the walking stick Mr. Rootgravel led the two back to where his hut was situated, which wasn’t too far from the village centre. As the three approached the hut Sonic looked around the area, and couldn’t help but notice that compared to all the other huts in the area, and beyond, only Mr. Rootgravel’s hut was surrounded by a wooden picket fence. The fence even cut in between the gap between his hut and the one next to him, with the gap being just barely a metre wide considering the limited space of the village entirely.

Sonic’s mouth twisted with disgust at what he saw. New Knothole was small, hosting maybe thirty to forty mobians the most on the surface, and another thirty in Lower Mobius last he checked. While for some that might not be the most ideal living arrangement, the village was quiet, homely, and everyone was willing to share their space as there were only so many luxuries that could be spared given their circumstances. The thought of one villager being this demanding over something so unnecessary made Sonic’s quills prickle.

“Why are you the only one wit’ a fence anyway?” Sonic asked, needing to resolve this for himself.

“Because I wanted one. This is my home after all, I demand privacy!” Mr. Rootgravel growled.

“It’s a village. If you wanted privacy go live in a tree. Or Lower Mobius. Or in the forest away from all o’ us,” Sonic pointed out, before adding under his breath, “Preferably inna ditch.”

“I wanted a hut, and I wanted a fence. So I got both,” Mr. Rootgravel gritted. “End of story.”

“Wha’ever,” Sonic sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his muzzle as he swore he could feel a headache starting. “Just show me where it’s busted.”

Mr Rootgravel led him to a section where the fence opened as a hinged gate. When they were close enough Mr. Rootgravel used his walking stick to tap at the gate, pulling Sonic’s attention to the damage that had gotten him so worked up.

“Here, this needs to be fixed,” Mr. Rootgravel stated.

Sonic crouched down and looked at where the possum was pointing to, then frowned, not quite seeing what the problem was. Sonic didn’t really consider himself anywhere near a handyman, as those sorts of jobs were usually left to Rotor to handle – and apparently to Tails now, too – but even he knew how to spot something that would need repairs.

He turned to Tails, hoping for a clue of some kind as he felt like this was something that should have been very obvious to anyone involved. Only to have the fox shrug helplessly at him. Sonic pressed his lips together into a thin line, then sighed, hating everything.

“... I ain’t seein’ it,” Sonic admitted at a length.

He barely flinched when Mr. Rootgravel tapped at the gate rapidly with his stick, as if that was going to clear up the issue as now the possum was opting to not waste any more words on Sonic. Sonic tried to focus on where he was tapping, and eventually he realised that the picket panel had somehow been snapped near the top, leaving a splintered mess.

At least, that’s all he could see. Which made Sonic slow blink at the fence as a quiet sort of rage began bubble through him.

“You’re kiddin’, right?” Sonic asked, then pointed at the broken picket. “Is that all?”

“Is that all?!” Mr. Rootgravel snarled. “It’s broken! Look at it, it’s making the gate uneven, I can’t have it looking like that!”

Sonic had to stare at the fence for a moment longer to consider his life choices and how he ended up here, then took in a slow, deep breath. When he released it, Sonic grabbed the broken panel, and with one sharp motion he yanked it off, pulling it free from the gate with a squeal of loosening nails.

“There,” Sonic said simply, tossing the picket aside as he stood up, dusting his hands off. “Now leave Tails alone, you old coot.”

Tails stared at Sonic in horror, feeling his blood run cold. He didn’t even dare look at Mr. Rootgravel, as he could practically feel the rage that was rising in the old possum, but he could hear him sputtering as he tried to comprehend just what had happened. And when he did, Mr. Rootgravel shrieked.

“How dare you do that to my property?!” Mr. Rootgravel hollered.

“How dare you harass Tails over somethin’ so stupid?!” Sonic snapped back, his voice so loud that it startled both Tails and Mr. Rootgravel. “You shouldn’t even have this fuckin’ thin’ in the first place, ‘nd you think you can order Tails around when he’s busy lookin’ after more important things?”

Before Mr. Rootgravel could protest further Sonic loomed over him, making sure to get as close as he was able to against the old possum before he yanked the hood of his hoodie down, revealing his face. The moment Mr. Rootgravel caught sight of Sonic’s full appearance he froze, the words forming in his mouth faltering as he gaped at Sonic, he outrage and entitlement completely evaporating.

Usually such a sight would have Sonic backing down, as he honestly hated the idea of scaring anyone. But after spending the last few minutes with the old possum Sonic needed this encounter to end as quickly as possible, even if it meant having someone genuinely be afraid of him.

“Now, I’m only gonna say this once. ‘cause if I see you buggin’ him, or anyone else about anythin’ this stupid again, I’m gonna come back here ‘nd take another picket until this whole damn thin’ is gone. Leave. Tails. Alone,” Sonic snarled, before gritting his teeth, pulling his lips back enough so that the possum got a full view of them. “Got it?”

Mr. Rootgravel continued staring at Sonic, his words seemingly going right over his head. It was only when Sonic clicked his teeth together that he snapped out of his stupor, but only long enough to give Sonic a half nod in confirmation. Sonic figured that was good enough, and he took in another calming breath before he cocked his head towards Mr. Rootgravel’s hut.

“Go home. ‘nd don’t let me catch you bein’ a jerk anymore.”

Tails watched in awe as the once feisty old man half hobbled, half ran through his gate and back into his hut, barely giving him or Sonic a backwards glance. Once he disappeared into his hut Tails felt some relief, but he couldn’t help the pang of guilt that flashed through him at the same time. The last thing he wanted to do was drag Sonic into some silly drama, especially after he had reassured Sonic that his first trip out of his hut in who knew how long was going to be a good thing.

Even as he looked up at Sonic he could see the below surface rage that was now rushing through the hedgehog, and Tails was sure that after this Sonic would not want to set foot outside ever again.

“Sonic, I--" Tails began.

“Has he really been messin’ wit’ you this whole time?” Sonic cut in.

Tails hesitated, his gaze falling down to his feet as he desperately wanted the subject to be dropped. He felt bad enough as it was having Sonic get involved, but what Mr. Rootgravel had said earlier about him being in charge and supposedly doing a poor job of it had really gotten to Tails. That, alongside utterly failing to help Sonic in the short period he was looking out for him, made Tails realise that he wasn’t very good at being responsible as he thought he was.

As he looked down at the snowy ground Sonic forced himself into Tails’ view, and to his surprise the hedgehog’s expression was a look of genuine concern.

“Tails, tell me the truth. Has he been messin’ wit’ you?” Sonic asked again, his voice gentle now.

Tails blinked at Sonic, then sighed before he nodded, feeling defeated. He heard Sonic click his tongue in frustration, and the hedgehog straightened, going quiet as he thought for a moment.

“Has anyone else been buggin’ you?” Sonic asked.

“Everyone else has been fine but... I guess there are a couple o’ villagers that are gettin’ a bit impatient?” Tails offered. “I thought I was doin’ okay but if he got that mad...”

“Show me who,” Sonic demanded. “Let’s sort ‘em out too before they pull anythin’ like this on you.”

Tails gaped at Sonic, then shook his head, his eyes pleading now.

“Don’t worry about it! I’m supposed to be lookin’ after the village, not you. This is too much!” Tails protested.

“Oh no. You think you’re the only one that can go draggin’ folks outta their problems?” Sonic countered as he stood, setting a fist on his hip as he regarded Tails. “Spill it, bro. Who else has been tryin’ to push you around?”

Tails still tried to protest against Sonic’s request, but when Sonic threatened to go around the village to figure it out himself Tails yielded, not wanting the hedgehog be let loose on the village in such a way that it would risk Bunnie needing to intervene while still sick.

So he led Sonic to any villagers her remembered approaching him over the last few days that he hadn’t been able to assist, or had tried settling their issues only to have them repeatedly come back to him in an attempt to get Tails to do what they asked.

To Tails’ surprise despite Sonic’s clear discomfort at being seen and gawked at by the villagers, he seemed to push that discomfort aside so that he could play bodyguard for Tails. He even stepped in when arguments started to get heated with the few villagers that refused to see reason, taking full advantage of his towering height and wild look to intimidate said villagers into either agreeing with Tails’ recommendations, or to outright abandon their frivolous demands.

They were also able to resolve quite a few legitimate issues that had been lingering in the village when other villagers caught wind of what the duo were doing. While Sonic’s attitude towards any villagers that were less that hospitable was to push back tenfold, Tails witnessed Sonic being quite compassionate and understanding to those that were just flustered with their situation, even as they hesitated at Sonic’s appearance at first. It was in these moments that Tails could see Sonic’s old self shining through, and as they day moved on one by one the villagers seemed to become more comfortable around the hedgehog, and vice versa.

Eventually though the two began to tire out, and a few hours after the sun had set they decided to stop for the day, reasoning that everyone was now retiring for the night as it was, and that it would be too dark and cold to do much else anyway.

Upon that agreement Sonic had begun wandering back to his hut with barely another word to Tails. Tails had taken this as a cue for him to depart to his own hut, until Sonic called back to him.

“Hey! You promised me food,” Sonic pointed out. “Go grab some ‘nd have dinner at my place, yeah?”

Tails was ecstatic for the offer, and rushed over to the Mess Hall to gather up some food for both of them, making it just in time before the majority of the food on offer was packed away. About ten minutes later Tails was back at Sonic’s hut, and balancing his two plates on one arm he entered the hut.

The contrast of what he had walked into earlier that afternoon to now was like night and day, even in the short amount of time the two were separated. The pile of blankets that Sonic had been using as his messy cocoon were now folded somewhat neatly on the end of his bed, the hut was well lit thanks to the overhead lighting, and it looked like Sonic had tidied up the few stray belongings he had that were scattered all over the floor, as Tails didn’t need to watch where he was stepping.

The only thing that almost matched what he had walked into that afternoon was Sonic lying on his bed with his head buried under his pillow. Which would explain why Sonic had asked Tails to get some food instead of picking it out himself with him, as it seemed like Sonic was more overwhelmed than Tails had realised.

For a moment Tails wondered if the two of them had pushed Sonic’s limits too far, and considered taking a raincheck on Sonic’s offer of having dinner together. But as Tails approached Sonic’s side the hedgehog lifted his pillow slightly, then sat up fully once he realised it was Tails.

“Sorry, I needed a sec o’ not bein’ vertical,” Sonic explained as he brushed down his quills with his hands, getting them somewhat back in line along his neck and back. “Man, that was a long day.”

“Yeah, but you survived. So that’s gotta count for somethin’, right?” Tails smirked as he passed Sonic his plate.

Sonic laughed, then cocked his head to motion for Tails to sit on the bed with him.

“Can’t argue that. But I ain’t gonna lie, my social card is totally punched out.”

As Tails made himself comfortable on Sonic’s bed he watched the hedgehog start on his food, glad to see that there wasn’t any hesitation. While Tails was getting their food he had realised that Sonic hadn’t eaten all day, and without knowing just how long it had been since his last decent meal Tails was worried that Sonic wouldn’t be up for eating, despite asking him to get food. Tails had tried picking out things he hoped were enticing enough to the hedgehog, but was relieved to see that at this point Sonic just wanted any food.

“I think mine is, too. But on the bright side that just means tomorrow there will be less to do,” Tails pointed out. “’nd thanks for helpin’ me out. I’m sorry that I let it all get so outta hand.”

Sonic paused mid-bite, before he sighed and set his fork down.

“No, I’m the one that let it all get outta hand. Not you, bro,” Sonic said. “You shouldn’t have to be pickin’ up the slack like that.”

Tails tilted his head at Sonic, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

“Wha’ do you mean? It’s not your fault so many villagers needed help,” Tails said.

“That’s not wha’ I’m talkin’ about,” Sonic clarified. “Wit’ Bunnie outta commission you should have someone else you can turn to for help, but instead I was makin’ everythin’ more difficult for you. ’nd on top o’ that I didn’t even know she was sick, or that folks were strugglin’, all ‘cause I was stuck in my own head. That ain’t right.”

Tails frowned, then shook his head firmly.

“You went through a lot o’ stuff though, Sonic. ‘nd we know it’s gonna take you some time to recover,” Tails explained. “We just want you to be okay.”

“I know, but I ain’t gettin’ okay. I have to get pushed just to do the bare minimum, ‘nd even then I don’t do that wit’out makin’ it a whole drama,” Sonic sighed. “I’m sorry, Tails.”

The apology startled Tails. Not that it was rare or anything like that for Sonic to admit his mistakes, even in his own ways. But because it never occurred to Tails that he would have anything to apologise for. Like Tails had said since Sonic’s return everyone that was able to worked alongside the hedgehog to help him recover, just wanting him to get better for his own sake.

The journey though had been rough, especially after Sonic’s third mutation that seemed to have cause Sonic to completely fall apart. It had been scary to witness at first, as Tails was so used to Sonic being so brave and confident not just in himself but in everyone around him. Watching Sonic withdraw completely from the world was surreal at best.

Everyone had tried so hard to help him, but Tails knew what was missing. It was missing for everyone else as well, and even though everyone had been able to move on in their own ways, that missing detail still hung at everyone’s neck like an albatross.

“I’m sure it would have been easier if Sally was here,” Tails voiced, knowing he had guessed right when Sonic stiffened.

Sally’s disappearance was still a hard topic to bring up with anyone. Coupled with Sonic’s disappearance there were times that everyone had felt hopeless, and they had all switched from wanting to fight back against the rising threat that had come out of nowhere, to wanting to just survive.

It didn’t help either that earlier attempts at tracking down Sally and Sonic had led them into wild goose chases that involved freakishly accurate illusions of their leaders. Over time said illusions would bait whoever were chasing them down into dangers they would just barely escape, or worse, distractions that left others in danger until it was almost too late. It had been a collective, yet hard decision amongst the Freedom Fighters to let their leaders go in exchange for their own safety, and just pray that somehow they would find their true selves alive and well someday.

“… yeah, it would have,” Sonic murmured, and Tails could hear the slight tremor in Sonic’s voice as Sonic looked away from him.

“You guys are helpin’, I don’t want to diss that,” Sonic added. “It’s just that… I dunno. Sal just knew how to not make me feel like a freak. Unc did, too, but he ain’t here either. ‘nd wit’ everythin’ else that’s happened to me I just keep wonderin’ wha’ they’d think o’ me now. But then I go back to ‘em not bein’ here ‘nd—-“

Sonic cut himself off, clicking his teeth together loudly like he needed to physically bite his words. Tails could see his eyes shining over with unshed tears and felt his own throat constrict at his brother’s turmoil.

“I don’t wanna dump that on you, bro. This is already too much,” Sonic sighed as he rubbed the heel of his hand into his eyes to chase off the tears. “But I wanna try to get back into the swin’ o’ things. There’s no way I can let you guys do everythin’ on your own no more.”

“Today was a good start I think. I mean it did take a while for you to get started, but once you got into it you seemed okay,” Tails stated. “So, we could just take it a day atta time, y’know?”

“That works for me. ‘cause really I don’t have a clue wha’ I can do no more,” Sonic admitted.

“Well I already know you can shut down grumpy old men,” Tails laughed, drawing a snort from Sonic. “Seriously, even Bunnie’s been havin’ trouble wit’ that guy.”

“That’s ‘cause she’s tryin’ to be a good guy. I don’t care if people get prissy wit’ me,” Sonic shrugged. “‘nd if he does harass you again tell me, I don’t care wha’ I’m doin’ or how I’m feelin’, he ain’t gettin’ away wit’ that.”

“I think after today he’s probably never gonna leave his hut again,” Tails teased.

“Good. That means I can knock his stupid fence over. Seriously, why does he even have that thin’?” Sonic muttered as he jabbed at some food on his plate with his fork with a little more force than needed.

“Also didja hear wha’ he called me? Stringbean?” Sonic added, outrage clear in his voice. “That’s like the last damn thin’ I would have thought anyone would call me. Such an asshole.”

“That’s how he is. But lookin’ back on it now, it was pretty funny when you tossed his walkin’ stick onto the roof,” Tails snickered. “I thought for sure he was gonna blow an artery when you did that.”

“Well he shouldn’t o’ poked me wit’ it,” Sonic smirked. “Though don’t tell Bunnie I did that. ‘nd then yelled at him. Or that I yelled at that other guy that was just bein’ lazy about gettin’ his own firewood. Who was also a jerk. So many jerks in the village...”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe wit’ me.”

The two ate in silence after that, giving each other some time to wind down from the day. Once they were finished Sonic took their plates and rinsed them off so that Tails could return them to the Mess Hall on his way back to his own hut. By then it was getting late, and they were both looking forward to getting a decent night’s sleep.

“So I’ll catch ya tomorrow?” Tails asked.

“Yeah, we’ll finish off the stuff we didn’t get to so you won’t have so many villagers on your back,” Sonic stated. “Though I’ll need a favour from ya.”

“Oh? Sure, anythin’,” Tails confirmed. “Whaddya need?”

“Can ya swin’ by here ‘nd drag my tail outta bed again?” Sonic asked. “‘cause I know I’m gonna forget. I promise I won’t fight ya.”

Tails laughed, the tips of his tails swaying gleefully at the confession.

“I can swin’ by at six, how does that sound?”

“Yeah if you do that I’ll fight ya ‘nd toss ya onto the roof,” Sonic miffed, his muzzle scrunching up with disgust even as Tails laughed harder. “Just make it a reasonable time, wouldja? At least ‘til I get used to bein’ a functionin’ guy again.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s try eight then. ‘nd I’ll brin’ some breakfast, too,” Tails yielded.

“Now that I can deal wit’,” Sonic smirked. “I’ll catch ya tomorrow, bro.”

“Catch ya tomorrow, Sonic.”

When Tails stepped outside and closed the door behind him he stopped and leaned against the door, taking a moment to reflect on everything that had just happened. After a few minutes the fox couldn’t help but grin to himself, before he quietly danced around in a tight circle to channel his giddiness.

He hadn’t expected his attempt to get Sonic out and about to be this successful, especially with the false start he had. But now he was thrilled that not only did Sonic leave his hut, he also seemed to have cheered up quite a bit. Tails knew that this didn’t mean Sonic was completely free of his depression, but he hoped this would lead to Sonic coming out of his reclusiveness a little more.

Tails headed home, mentally keeping his fingers crossed that tomorrow would go just as well for the hedgehog.

With hopefully the absence of any more grouchy villagers.

#wstw #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #SatAM-TimeSkipAU #SatAM #SatAM Sonic #Sonic the hedgehog #tails the fox #Sonic AU #fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #long post #queue

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realmackross · 11 months

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PARTIES: @corpse-a-diem, @realmackross TIMING: Early October SUMMARY: Mackenzie decides to take another step forward in trying to process everything that's happened to her since becoming a zombie and meets with Erin to discuss and plan her own funeral. WARNINGS: Parental death tw, Grief tw, Terminal Illness tw (Mack reference's being sick to hide being a zombie). This thread deals heavily with grief, mortality, and planning a funeral.

Erin was only an hour into her mound of paperwork when she felt her back aching. She stretched, groaned and fought the urge to get up and do absolutely anything else but this.

“Take a break. Trust me. Your back’ll thank you in twenty years.”

Her father stood against the closed door frame of the office. His once. Her’s now. She hadn’t redecorated yet, and apart from a few photos and knick knacks, it was almost exactly the same as it had been for decades. Instinctually, her fingers clasped tighter around the pen in her hand at the sound of his voice. Her eyes finally rose to meet his after the initial startle wore off. “God, dad. What did I say about sneaking up on me?” It was hard to stay mad too long, even if she had more than enough reasons to and even if his presence still set her teeth on edge. But she didn’t know long he could stick around or if he’d even come back again. Death wasn’t as permanent as she thought but she was wholly aware of how little she did know when it came to this. He only tossed a warm smile her way, glancing back at the closed door knowingly at the sound of heels clicking along hardwood flooring. He’d heard those steps and those clicks a thousand times. “I know, I know…”

He started, petering off as a knock on the door followed. Her mother let herself in almost immediately. Erin was beyond trying to break her of that habit at this point. “Sorry to interrupt–” she smiled only slightly apologetically, stepping right past her husband. “There’s a young woman at the front desk who’d like to speak to you about arranging her funeral?” Erin watched the way her father’s eyes followed her mother, a small pang piercing her chest before she nodded and met her mother’s eyes. She stood up from her desk. “Right. On my way.”

“With my good deed done for the day, I’ll leave you to it then,” her father nodded and was gone in the blink of an eye. Erin stared at the empty space for another moment before putting her professional cap back on, and followed her mother out to the lobby as she filled Erin in on their potential new client. She was young. “Mackenzie Ross?” Erin greeted her with a soft smile, holding out her hand. “Erin Nichols. How can I help you?”

—

Mackenzie wasn’t really sure what she was doing as she entered Nichols’ Funeral Home. When she had researched websites for Wicked’s Rest funeral homes a while back, it had been on a whim. The notion of planning a funeral she never got to have seemed absurd, but after everything that had happened recently, she wasn’t so sure it actually was. Maybe, hopefully, it would be more cathartic. The idea of getting to go out the way she wanted. The music, the clothes, the words spoken about her. It might help her to better accept just what it meant to be a zombie. And maybe, just maybe, she could eventually tell her parents the truth. But first, she had to bite the bullet and plan the damn thing.

There had been a nervous quality about her voice when she had spoken to an older woman, who was off getting the Funeral Director. If ever there had been a lack of confidence, it was now. And as she waited, Mackenzie couldn’t help, but wander around the lobby letting her eyes scan over everything as she took in the somber atmosphere. There was just something about being in funeral homes that had been humbling. It made you question mortality and life itself. An eye opening experience, even to a member of the undead, that life would eventually cease to exist.

The two voices that carried down the hall snapped Mackenzie back into focus, and as she made her way back over to the desk the older woman had first been at, she couldn’t help, but nod at an older man who seemed to pass by her quietly. Hearing her name, she turned her attention to meet the funeral director, whose hand was stuck out to greet her, “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Nichols. Um, I, uh, I just…” Keep it together, Mackenzie. “I’m here to plan my own funeral, and I was wondering if you could help me set that up…” She reached out and let her own icey, dead hand meet Erin’s with a firm shake, before pulling it back anxiously.

—

Mackenzie’s words struck Erin slightly. She was no stranger to preparing funerals for young people, even children in the worst of circumstances, but this was a first. Preparing the funeral with the younger person in question? Different, for sure. Her brows furrowed briefly before Erin had a mind to reign back in her initial response. “Of course. That’s what I do,” she smiled curtly. She caught her mother’s eyes briefly, the concern hard to hide in the older woman’s gaze. Erin’s hands dug into the pockets of her suit jacket and she nodded at Mackenzie. “Why don’t you follow me?” She turned, walking down the hall slightly to a more disclosed location. The traffic wasn’t high volume at the funeral home but privacy in matters like this was key. She brought her into another room, displays of caskets and urns lining the walls and tables, with a few booklets laid out on a table surrounded by couches. Erin moved to sit in the single arm chair, gesturing for Mackenzie to take a seat across from her. “I have to ask, or just say rather–you’re probably one of the youngest people I’ve met who actively seeked something like this out from me.”

–

Mackenzie knew this had been an odd request. But surely she hadn’t been the first. Of course, the glance she noticed Erin share with the older woman made her start to believe otherwise. Maybe this had been a mistake. Would this be too revealing? Would it out her as being already dead? And how was this going to make Mackenzie feel in general? No, no. She was an actress. She could do this. She could put on a show as being fully alive and just being overly…prepared.

With the woman’s request, Mackenzie followed her back into the room. But upon stepping inside and seeing the caskets and urns on display, she started to regret coming. It was too late though. She was already here. The fear of it all made no sense to her, considering she had died two years ago, but maybe it was how finite being buried or cremated was. The final death. No return even for the undead, right? She still wasn’t quite sure about that one, but maybe if she could plan this out, it would help her to further accept where she was at and be a little more appreciative that she was oddly getting another chance at…life?

“Really?” Her suspicion was confirmed. Mackenzie took a seat. “I guess I just wanted to make this as easy as possible for my family and friends, you know? Have everything picked out and ready…” If she did have an expiration date would her family even be there? Her parents? Cousins and aunts and uncles? Friends…Winter… “I’m sorry, I feel like I should apologize for some reason. I know this isn’t normal…” She let her eyes fall.

—

Erin’s eyes were trained on Mackenzie, watching her reactions and expressions. It was somewhat a habit, as she was keen on trying to figure out a clients’ state of mind the best she could and be open to whatever they were going through, but with this case she’d be lying if it wasn’t partially due to curiosity. Was the young woman sick? Was this something she expected to happen soon? And if so, why was she alone with all of this? Erin’s perception of death was vastly different than most but even she could recognize doing this on your own, at her age, was enough to be on alert about. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is something a lot of people think about. It’s extremely natural and I promise this is a safe space for any questions you might have about the process.” Her smile softened and she nodded, keeping the pad and paper on the desk at bay for now.

“We can hop right into it if you want? Or if you want to take a moment, look through some of the books I have, feel free to do that too. I don’t have any other appointments for the rest of the afternoon. Take your time.”

—

Mackenzie hadn’t even taken into consideration how any of this might have looked to Erin. To anybody really. A 25 year old planning her own funeral? Was it insinuating something else in Erin’s eyes? The realization soon hit her like a ton of bricks, “I should probably explain. This isn’t…I’m…I’m sick.” Technically she was. Whatever this was keeping her among the living had to be a virus. People didn’t just come back for no reason at all. But also in realizing her choice of words, she also had assumed that maybe Erin thought something completely different. Like Mackenzie no longer wanted to be around.

“I’m really making this worse. I came here thinking this might help. But I don’t know.” Mack was starting to panic. Keeping her cool was becoming somewhat impossible, and without thinking, she got back up and walked towards the door, “Where’s your restroom? I just need a moment, if that’s okay?” She wanted to do this. To follow through with planning this, but facing her own actual death that had never fully been dealt with. Between the cravings and keeping up appearances, soon followed by losing Brody and everyone she ever knew, to the new life she was trying to live in Wicked’s Rest, was proving to be a lot more than she was realizing she could handle.

—

Erin’s fears were confirmed with Mackenzie’s confession. The poor girl, she thought immediately, and shook her head. Sure, Erin had had her own funeral planned since she was a teenager, but it was nowhere near the same kind of situation. “I’m so sorry, Mackenzie. We absolutely don’t have to do this if it’s too much. Please know that.” She tried to comfort her the best she could. This was going to be a hard one. Erin stood, pointing towards the hallway to where the restrooms were located. “Take your time, okay? I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re going through but I’ve done enough of these to know that this is a lot. It’s hard. But if it’s important to you, and you really want to finish… I’m here to help you, okay?”

–

Mackenzie was on the verge of tears that she probably wouldn’t even be able to cry, “T-Thank you.” With a sad smile and nod of her head, she immediately left the room, her smile fading away as the restroom couldn’t come fast enough and the solace it would bring to just be alone.

It had been an odd sensation actively watching your body breakdown at 25 years old. And could she really claim to be 25? Mackenzie had died when she was just 23, but here she was two years later surviving off of the misfortune of others, all while feeling like she was old before her time. It had hurt with each passing day when one of her senses would fail her a little more. Her sight. Her hearing. Her touch. Taste and smell had been long gone, aside from the occasional wisp of a scent or burn from something spicy or hot. And the worst feeling of all was knowing that even though she was technically still walking and talking, she couldn’t live a full life anymore. No family. No one to carry on her legacy. Just her and the fear that if she ever did fall in love with someone else, there was a strong chance she would devour them just like she did Brody.

Now standing in front of the sink, Mackenzie turned on what she assumed to be cold water and splashed it on her face a couple of times, before looking back in the mirror at herself. So much had changed in such a short amount of time, and no matter how much makeup she put on, the dark circles under her eyes remained, leaving her feeling worse about herself, “Come on, Mackenzie. Just get it over with. Stop wasting this woman’s time. Pick something out and then leave.”

With a deep, reassuring breath for her own self-needs, Mackenzie dried her face off and made her way back out to Erin, “Sorry. I’m ready. Let’s do this. Maybe we can look around first, and then if all else fails, try the books?” Picking something out that was already available was probably going to be better than the anticipation of having to order her own casket and wait for it to come in from halfway across the world.

—

It was quiet after Mackenzie disappeared into the bathroom. It wasn’t the first time someone had to excuse themselves for a moment. The amount of moments of reflection and reprieve that bathroom must have seen over the years was insurmountable. Completely warranted. She’d had a few of her own, if she was being completely honest. And this young woman deserved more than a few for what Erin could only imagine she was going through. She waited patiently until she re-emerged, standing up in her presence. “I’m gonna let you know right now. You don’t have to apologize for absolutely anything, okay? Grief is weird and hard and there’s absolutely no correct way to do it.”

Erin smiled as comfortingly as possible but picked up on her cue that Mackenzie was looking to jump right into it. She moved towards the wall of casket sample displays filling up the wall to their left. “It’s helpful for some people to start with what feels like the most obvious part, and for a lot of people, the hardest.” She paused, surveying the other woman’s reactions carefully. “Does that sound like a good place to start for you?”

The young zombie knew she had come to the right place. Erin had been comforting and kind the entire time, and though Mackenzie wasn’t making it easy, she had greatly appreciated the woman’s kindness, “Thank you.” It was true. She had experienced grief when she had still been alive, and she was still feeling it now, even in death. The final sleep. It was supposed to be a final stop and a resting place, but Mackenzie had never gotten it, and even just two years into this new life, she was tired.

Following Erin to the wall of caskets, Mackenzie began looking them over, “That makes sense.” She glanced away from the funeral director and to the available options, “It’s as good a place as any…” Letting her eyes carefully start looking them over, she hesitantly reached out to touch one of them. It was weird. She had remembered going with her parents and looking at something similar when her grandma had died. Death felt different then. She was a child, and she was still trying to process what the word even meant, let alone the feelings that came with it. But here she was as an adult now trying to figure all of this out on her own, “Do you have anything in black?” She looked back at Erin. “That’s probably a weird question.” Mackenzie had always imagined a black casket for herself, but that was usually as far as the thought went considering she was still young and had felt like she had a long life ahead of her. Damn, had she been wrong about that.

—

Erin watched quietly, monitoring the range of Mackenzie’s emotions. It had become a skill over the years. Innate compassion coupled with learned people skills. It wasn’t the most natural thing to come to her–the feelings were genuine but her father had taught her to make it seem effortless. Because it was with him. There wasn’t anyone who passed through this home that didn’t feel that sincerity from the man. He had annoyingly big shoes to fill. She crossed her arms over her chest, raising a brow enthusiastically at Mackenzie’s question. “We do, actually. We can order anything you’d like. Any color, model, size. Whatever you want,” she assured her. Pausing briefly, glancing from the caskets to the younger woman with a sadness she was trying to hide in her eyes. “Did you have any idea of what you wanted? A traditional funeral? Or something more custom to your liking and personality?” She gave a gentle shrug, a small but smile hiding in the corner of her mouth. “You wouldn’t believe how creative some people get with these things. And–they don’t always have to be this, you know, incredible somber event. They can, if that’s what you want. But a lot of people like to make them… parties. Celebrations of life. It can help those you’ve left behind. Like a ‘bon voyage’ instead of ‘goodbye forever’.” Erin straightened, trying to keep her features friendly but serious at the same time. A delicate line. “Just something to keep in mind, you know?”

—

A bon voyage. If Erin had only known how accurate that actually was considering the funeral director was standing next to Mackenzie; an actual walking and talking real life zombie. But the idea did sound better than something depressing. She had always been very outgoing in life. Mack had loved people and celebrating and just having a good time all around. And she had felt that, for the most part, up until she had solidified what she was by killing Brody, “I would like that. That’s basically what my life was up until recently.” So maybe this was coming together better than she had anticipated. A black casket, but a celebration of a life she had once lived. But did she deserve a celebration was the real question. She had no longer considered herself a good person, and that might have been a problem in how she saw planning all of this out.

“Do you have any books on that or can you tell me what’s offered in a celebration of life?” Mackenzie continued to look over the other casket options, but at least had her mind made up on that. Well the exterior anyways. She knew, just like anything else in the world, caskets could be personalized. “And can you tell me about customizing caskets?” She let her eyes shift back to Erin. Might as well ask all her questions right? There was no backing down now.

—

Erin perked up a little, glad that they were finding a place to start with. It was always the biggest hurdle. “Well, there’s not really an exact How-To on these kinds of things. I’ve seen a lot of people treat it almost like a birthday party, in a way–” she smiled, holding her hands up like she was bracing for pushback. “I know, that sounds weird, but it’s actually really nice. It’s planned more like a party than a funeral. People make playlists of your favorite songs, and share their favorite memories of their loved one with everyone. There’s even games and activities sometimes. They’re never really the same. It all depends on the person.” She moved towards a binder that had a collection of ideas and events she had done in the past on a table, handing it off to Mackenzie to take a look. “There’s some ideas but honestly? Pinterest is where it’s at if you want some ideas for that. People get extremely creative.” She nodded. “We can do or get anything done as far as customization goes. Your budget is your only limit.”

Her smile faded a little as her gaze fell to Mackenzie again, her voice soft as as she asked. “Do you mind if I ask…” she shifted slightly, uncomfortably, knowing that the rest of her question would be hard. “How much time do we have?”

—

Mackenzie usually had party planners to help with this sort of thing. If it was really going to be a celebration. And Pinterest to plan a funeral? It was definitely a new idea, even for her, but she did love making a good Pinterest board. Mackenzie’s Bon Voyage Into the Afterlife! Mackenzie’s Last Dance. Dead, But Still Hot: A Soiree. She was kind of digging that last one, especially if she could make it…haunted? A haunted, old fashioned parlor funeral? It could be entertaining right? People in their early 1900s garb. Candle light. The decor. Maybe it was because Halloween was rounding the corner. Or maybe it was because she never got to act in that period piece she wanted, but here she was, “Have you ever had anybody go…back in time? Like the late 1800s or early 1900s? I only ask, because I never got to act in a period piece like I wanted to…”

Mackenzie was curious to know Erin’s response, until she watched the woman’s smile fade and then that question was asked. We’ve got all the time in the world, Lady. I’m already dead. “Um…” What did she say? She didn’t want to lie to the woman, but she couldn’t exactly admit she was a zombie. Like that would go over well in a funeral home. “A couple of months…” That sounded okay, right?

—

Erin’s head tilted curiously at Mackenzie’s question. “Back in time?” That was a first, she had to admit, until there was more clarification. “Oh, yeah, that’d be cool. If that’s your vibe, I say go for it. You’re an actress?” She asked, feeling slightly more validated that there was something familiar about the young woman but she still couldn’t put her finger on where she’d seen her. She wasn’t known for her pop culture knowledge. Van roasted her consistently for it.

A couple of months? Damn. This poor kid. Erin nodded, trying to read the grief in Mackenzie’s features. It was different for everyone but she was having a hard time reading whatever journey she was going on internally. She wouldn’t prod much more but touched the other woman’s arm briefly but gently. “Listen–I know you just met me and I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But I know it’s hard. So whatever you need before then, if I can do it, you’ve got it, okay? Just say the word. That’s what I’m here for.”

—

“Yeah. I’ve done some things. Why not go out doing what I’m known for? Putting on a show.” Her smile was full of mixed emotions. Sadness, regret, sarcasm. Mackenzie’s moods had run the gambit since she had first made her presence known in Wicked’s Rest, but sometimes things just called for a range of emotions. “I think that’s what I’d like to do then. Let everybody be a part of the final performance, since they were all starring with me in my everyday life.” She knew if word got out though, there would be fans there, and she definitely didn’t want it to be a spectacle. She still wasn’t sure she was going to invite her mom and dad, let alone anyone else from her life in Hollywood, besides Winter, if she still wanted to be in Mack’s life. “But my one request is that we please keep this private. I don’t want a lot of people showing up, especially ones I didn’t know. And no announcements. I just want this small and personal.” Maybe she could do the inviting. It would be weird, but at least she could control who came - hopefully.

Erin’s words were soft and kind. Something that Mackenzie had greatly appreciated. It had been hard going through all of this without her parents at her side, and in some strange way, that’s what it felt like right now. That she had her mom by her side. Or at least an older sister or aunt. “Thank you. And thank you for helping me. I didn’t think I would ever be doing this alone, but here we are.” She felt horrible, because she knew - well figured at least - that she would still be walking around in two months time. She’d find a way to break the news to the funeral director somehow. Maybe the day of or… “Have you ever had anyone attend their own funeral? Like alive. Still…alive…”

—

Erin nodded astutely. “Of course. Complete privacy. That won’t be a problem on our end.” Though she did know she was going to have to ask Van later about who Mackenzie Ross was, she was sure she’d keep her secret. They joked and teased but Van could be serious when she absolutely needed her to.

Her heart ached to hear that. Planning your funeral all by yourself, so young at that? This truly was a first. Her brows furrowed at the question. “I have, actually. It’s probably more common than you think. But some people want to have their celebration of life with the people they’re celebrating with. Which isn’t the most far fetched idea. Most people aren’t around to hear the wonderful things people say about them at funerals. It gives them a chance to say good bye and send off knowing they’re loved. They’ll be missed. But there’s… closure. As much closure as you can hope for, anyway.”

—

“Thank you. I definitely think I came to the right place. I don’t want this to be a spectacle you know? My whole life has been in the spotlight, and I just want some privacy and to feel normal for a little while.” Mackenzie walked back over to the chair and sat down with the binder that had been handed to her, so she could begin to look through it. She loved the Victorian soiree idea, but she at least wanted to give the lookbook of death some thought.

“Really? I kind of think that’s what I’d like to do. Be present. Just so I can hear everything, see my friends and maybe family again. Celebrate the good things that have happened and the people who got me through life you know?” And are still getting me through death. Mackenzie flipped through the book slowly seeing all the different ideas. People were so creative and thoughtful in the things they did for their loved ones. Mack had almost wished someone had come with her, but this was more of a her thing and trying to accept the fact that she was legit dead and would forever be that way until a hunter chopped off her head or worse.

—

Erin had absolutely no concept of that–unbridled lack of privacy. She’d had the exact opposite of that her entire life. It was just easier that way. The less prying eyes locked on her ongoing mental crises the better. “This is yours and yours alone. You’ve got it,” Erin nodded. “We’ll take care of you. Don’t worry about that part at all.”

Moving back to the loungers in the room, Erin motioned for Mackenzie to follow her. This was going to be emotional and hard and thankfully, Mackenzie had someone who could cut right through that to get the job done. That was what Erin did. That’s what she was good at. She sent Mackenzie a warm smile and pulled out a pen and pad of paper, already jotting some notes down. “Alright, Mackenzie. If we’re going to send you off, let’s do it right. What do you say?”

#parental death tw #grief tw #terminal illness tw #para: if i die young #para: erin #{a new beginning; plot}#corpse-a-diem #wickedswriting

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

When Your Child Hurts Themselves When He’s Out Of The Country ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

“Daddy, I hurt myself at school today and scraped my knee.”

Jin’s eyes widened as he heard your daughter speak, noticing the sad expression in her eyes. “Are you alright? I hope you were a brave girl?”

Her head nodded back to him, “I only cried when I fell, but then I stopped. Mummy says that I’ll have a nice bruise tomorrow though.”

“I hope she gives you a lot of hugs to make you feel better,” Jin chuckled, trying not to get upset himself. “I’m sorry I’m not there to help you.”

“It’s alright,” she grinned, “I know that you’re busy singing.”

“She understands,” you added.

His head nodded, but that didn’t change how guilty he felt. “Hopefully by the time I get home that nasty bruise will be gone too.”

Her head nodded back at him, “I’ve got to get plenty of rest, so mummy says I can sleep in your side of the bed tonight.”

“Keep it nice and warm for me.”

Yoongi:

“Why do you look like you’re about to cry dad?”

Yoongi’s head shook as he wiped away underneath his eye. “I’m not getting upset, you don’t need to worry about me son.”

Your son looked quizzically back at him, “you can get upset, mummy got upset when I was in the hospital earlier, and so did I.”

“I wish I could have been there with you,” Yoongi confessed, “but mummy said that you were a brave boy whilst you had all your checks and exams.”

“Of course,” he giggled, “because they were helping me.”

“Did they help?” Yoongi asked.

Your head nodded back at him, “they just said that there was nothing too much for us to worry about and that I need to keep an eye on him.”

Yoongi frowned as you spoke, “I wish I was there to help you both out right now, I hate being so far away from you both.”

“You’ll be home soon daddy, don’t worry.”

Hoseok:

“The hospital was so cool; I want to ride an ambulance again.”

Hobi had never been filled with such relief then when he saw the wide smile on your daughter’s face. “So, you’re a fan of hospitals then?”

Her head nodded back at him, “all the cars had to move to the side of the road just for me, it made me feel so important daddy.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he chuckled, “but it wasn’t as nice for me being so far away from you, I worried about you a lot today on the stage.”

“I’m fine,” she giggled, “you always worry too much.”

“Maybe I do,” he admitted.

You smiled weakly across at him, “we’ve got plenty of orders to make sure she has plenty of rest over the next few days, which she loves.”

Hobi’s head nodded as he listened closely to you, “make sure that you get plenty of rest, you listen to your body sweetheart.”

“I will, don’t worry dad.”

Namjoon:

“Why don’t you go and get yourself ready for bed sweetie.”

As soon as your son ran out of shot, Namjoon stared much more seriously at you. “Is he really alright, or are you trying to protect me?”

Your head shook, making sure that your son had gone. “He’s feeling a lot better than he did this morning, and that’s the main thing.”

“I just worry, a lot,” he frowned, “I don’t want him to see that I’m scared, but being so far away from you both is making this a lot harder for me to deal with.”

“I’m being honest,” you smiled, “I’d tell you if something happened.”

“I know,” he whimpered.

You frowned back at his glum expression, “you’ll be back soon, and he’ll be feeling better, just try not to worry whilst you’re at work.”

His shoulders shrugged back at you, “that’s easy for you to say when you’re right there with him, I wish I was there too.”

“You’ll be back with us soon Joon.”

Jimin:

“Look at the cut on my elbow, I even had to wear a plaster.”

Jimin could only chuckle as your daughter held the small cut on her elbow up to the screen. “That looks like it must have been very painful.”

Her head nodded, happy to exaggerate it all for her father. “The nurse at school said that I could have lost my arm, it’s really serious dad!”

I’m sure it is,” he chuckled, “why don’t you get mummy to give it a kiss from me to help it heal, and that way we can make sure you don’t lose your arm.”

“Okay,” she laughed, holding her arm out in front of you.

“Good girl,” Jimin chimed.

You leant down and pressed a kiss just above her cut, “there, now a kiss from your dad will help heal it all in no time.”

Her nodded, turning back to look at Jimin. “Make sure mummy looks after you whilst I’m not there to look after you.”

“She’s already got me running around after her.”

Taehyung:

“I can catch the first flight home if you need me to Y/N.”

Your head shook, glancing across at your son who was fast asleep on the sofa. “The worst bits over now, you just need to focus on the tour.”

He looked questionably back at you, “how can I focus on work when my son is back at home ill, and you’re all alone to look after him.”

“A couple of staff came and checked on us both earlier,” you informed him, “if I need anything then they’ve said that I can give them a call for some help.”

“I should be there helping you,” he frowned, “not them.”

“It can’t be helped,” you assured.

His hand brushed through his messy fringe, “nothing like this has ever happened on a tour before, I feel so helpless right now.”

Your head shook back at him, “you’re doing what you can. When he’s awake, I’ll give you a call so you can see him for yourself.”

“I’d appreciate that, thank you Y/N.”

Jungkook:

“I wanted to call and make sure that she really was alright.”

You smiled back at Jungkook as his face appeared on the screen, “she’s putting on a brave face, but being at the hospital is scaring her.”

He let go of a loud puff of breath, “I just wish that I was there with you both, it can’t be easy on you to sort all of this out right now.”

“I can’t get upset because then she’ll get upset,” you admitted to him, “I think we’re both just trying to be brave for each other right now whilst she’s there.”

“When are you allowed back in?” He then asked you.

“First thing in the morning.”

His head nodded, glancing across at the clock. “You need to get some rest; it must be late for you now if you’re going back to her.”

Your head shook as you sat down on your bed, “I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep tonight until I can get back to the hospital.”

“I don’t think I’ll sleep well either.”

---

Masterlist

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sepublic · 3 years

Text

Marcy’s Condition

I’m scared for Marcy. Seeing her so wounded, I just-

I really am afraid. Afraid that she’s going to need not just emotional and mental therapy, but physical therapy as well… Which, we don’t know how successful Andrias’ procedure is going to be, but still. It really sucks and haunts me how Sasha has that scar on her face, as a permanent reminder of what happened in Amphibia, of Reunion…

But not to compare pain, but Marcy is somehow even worse- Because she might just have that ENTIRE gaping scar on her chest and back, and… Remembering how she almost died, how she THOUGHT she died. The pain, the unimaginable horror and agony at being impaled. The reminder of everything that happened in True Colors, the pain and desperation, the betrayal… I can legit seeing it become an actual, medical trigger for Marcy. Sasha at least managed to cope with the scar on her face, good for her…!

But Marcy… I can easily see this breaking her. And it just leads to her always trying to cover up that scar and not look at it, which, is easy because she can accomplish that with any regular shirt, but still… It’s just the entire concept of bodily autonomy being violated, of being marked like that, and it worsens with the idea of Andrias turning Marcy into a cyborg, and/or his master possessing her. To already have her body so grievously hurt and wounded, to then be operated on like a test subject, to be controlled and puppeted with this entity inside her… It genuinely sickens me.

This girl suffered, and there’s always that permanent, visual reminder of it. At least with Sasha, you can argue how she brought it on herself, as a reminder of how she tried to kill Anne’s surrogate father and why this mistake backfired; It’s a learning experience, although trauma is trauma of course, so that is to be said VERY lightly and carefully. It’s not like Anne MEANT to scar Sasha; But Marcy… Marcy didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to be impaled by someone she trusted, who took advantage of and manipulated her…

She was afraid of confiding her fears in with Anne and Sasha, and she found that in Andrias; And now, she’s likely to be even MORE terrified of opening up because of this! Especially with how Andrias has the AUDACITY to literally gaslight Marcy in her final moments, as she realizes she’s going to die and is dead, by saying “Look what you’ve made me do.” As if he hasn’t emotionally manipulated her enough, to imply Marcy’s violent death is all her fault, and/or that of the friends she loves and didn’t want to lose, was so afraid of being rejected by. Because I guess her soul hadn’t been crushed enough!

Not to mention… Getting impaled like that, having a burning blade through your spine… I’m just really afraid that when this is all over, IF Marcy gets to recover and heal; She might be paralyzed. She might be plagued with physical health issues for the rest of her life, because she’s missing an entire chunk of her spine; And, hopefully Andrias’ procedure can give Marcy’s body a full recovery… Ideal scenario, no scar, even!

But I can’t help but feel like being possessed by Andrias’ master, THAT could leave its own physical toll on Marcy’s poor body, and it just agonizes me to see this girl be violated like that, emotionally and physically. It’s depressing how Marcy briefly treats others more like NPCs in her game than people, because now SHE’s being objectified, losing her agency, in a way that is so much worse and totally undeserved.

Marcy doesn’t deserve to have to live with physical health issues for the rest of her life, for what happened; She’s a kid. She doesn’t deserve to be plagued with echoes of pain and physical trauma that constantly remind her of what happened, even when she’s not directly looking at the visual mark it left behind. And I’m just scared that when this is all over… I can see Marcy being bedridden, being in ACTUAL medical therapy, because I have a hard time imagining her being able to function without that.

What if she becomes physically sick and ill, still feeling the repercussions of her wound or possession or being modified against her will? I don’t want to imagine Marcy looking at prosthetics that Andriasgave her, for the rest of her life. There’s nothing wrong with needing physical aid, or medicine, or therapy to get by in life; But for Marcy, it could serve as a reminder of issues that came as a direct, unfair, result of her time in Amphibia; A loss of carefree health she once had… And she doesn’t deserve to be haunted like that.

I don’t want Marcy to be plagued by health issues, she’s gone through ENOUGH already, having the rest of Marcy’s life be permanently riddled and restrained because of her wound, it just… It genuinely leaves me in anguish. I don’t want to see Marcy in a wheelchair, as a permanent, haunting reminder that is intertwined in every aspect of her life, of what happened… A reminder she literally can’t escape because it’s her own body, and it’ll affect just about every breathing moment for her.

I don’t want to see Marcy struggle to breathe from damaged lungs. Or have her struggle with meds –I know that feeling- or constantly need a device for physical aid, something to be hooked up to often. I don’t want to imagine Marcy sometimes lying in bed at night, placing her hand over her chest, so she can feel her heart beating, to relieve and reassure herself that she’s still alive. Not after feeling her heart stop beating when she was first impaled… She’s so young, she has her whole life ahead of her, or should, and she had that violently ripped away from her, barely got to live with that kind of normal life before it was gone for good. She deserves to just breathe, carefree, and feel the sunlight on her face and enjoy life.

As a disclaimer, I don’t want to patronize people with disabilities or injuries. I don’t want to turn physical conditions into some inescapable tragedy that can’t be moved past, can’t be healed from; There are so many people who have managed to adapt and continue living as always. I’m sorry if I did that… But Marcy’s whole condition could be a brutal reminder of what happened to her, of that horrible thing that wracked not just her heart but her entire body. She shouldn’t have to suffer for that, for the rest of her life…

And I’m terrified for her mental health. Of her suffering from actual PTSD, being triggered by things that remind her of that moment. Of having nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat, heart racing, as she reaches out for Anne or Sasha for comfort. I can’t handle that thought, the idea of a kid in that sort of pain… It’s so unfair and she doesn’t deserve it. I can genuinely, plausibly see Marcy becoming depressed, becoming somber and morose for a long while, before she can finally heal and become happy and excited and curious in things that open way she does; And GOD, I’d be inconsolable if she felt suicidal, because how do you move on from that? Thinking her life wasn’t worth it without Anne or Sasha, that she literally can’t handle it… Combined with the possibility of abuse in more ways than one from her parents, how THEY won’t help, if they’re even allowed near Marcy after all this.

Does Marcy have anyone to even turn to when it all ends? I hope she does. I can only imagine her being constantly terrified of being alone, and needing company just to get by… She really deserves a therapy pet after all this, maybe Joe Sparrow could help. It just… It just sounds like Marcy’s whole life has been wracked with this kind of pain, and I don’t want to her pain get any worse, to see it get physically chronic. Any kind of physical pain could easily traumatize and push Marcy to her limits… And, there’s the possibility of good representation for physical disabilities, but also, I don’t want to patronize anyone, or speak over their voices, so again I apologize if I did.

I guess this just stems from me wanting to see Marcy’s pain be acknowledged and addressed so she can properly heal from it, can be validated and told that it was terrible and should’ve never happened no matter what… But maybe I can find relief in the denial that it didn’thurt her this badly, that Marcy is fine and doesn’t have to deal with that to begin with, because wouldn’t that be better for her? I dunno.

It’s undeniable that Marcy is going to be emotionally crushed after this… But does she have to stay, or become, physicallycrushed as well?

I just…

SOMEONE GET THIS GIRL SOME LOVE AND CARE AND THERAPY ASAP FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE AND LET HER BE WELL AGAIN!!!!!

I just want Marcy to be able to recover and heal… I genuinely hope and wish her emotional spirit will at least be able to move on after this, that she can still find joy and excitable fun, and get to be a kidagain, with her best friends like old times; Only better, because she’s at least grown. God, these girls and their trauma, and the inevitability of how it’ll haunt and hurt them… It leaves me inconsolable.

#amphibia #amphibia spoilers #spoilers #amphiba marcy #marcy wu #angst #ptsd #suicide mention

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weeb-writor · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Arguments

Heyo! Today I have a Cove x Reader! He is from a visual novel called Our Life: Beginning and always. Its available on Steam and itch.io for free! But I do encourage you all to get the dlc is it is more than worth it. It is inclusive of all race, sexual orientation and pronouns/gender. Also all the characters are just amazing and loveable. I could go on and on about this game but let me shut up so you all can read^^

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Cove Holden x GN!Reader

You and cove get into a bad argument and picking up the pieces is hard.

Word Count: 2.4k(not beta read)

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“Cove hasn't talked to you…yeah I’m just worried, they haven't gone more than a week without speaking since they met. They’re going on week 3 soon… yeah I know… yeah… alright I let you know what I can find out.” Ma said, hanging up with a sigh. You rounded the corner glancing at her as you plopped down on the sofa.

“We're not 8 any more, you don't have to call Cliff anytime we get in a fight.” you said with a chuckle.

“Honey, that's the thing, you and cove have never fought. We called about Lizzie plenty of times but you… it's just parents being parents. We're just worried.” She said stroking your hair. You grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze before you got up.

“Don’t be.” You said as you went up to your room. Well you were packing so really it was just a room with a bed. You plopped down face first into it. You just laid there mind racing a mile a minute. The fight, the disagreements, the tears played over and over again. It was simple at first and then it wasn't. Then it was yelling, arms flailing, and angry tears. What would happen next? It was a fear you thought that was already put to rest but it came again, and again, and again. Each time it was more and more muddled. What would happen to you both? How would long distance work? Were you supposed to tell your parents about your engagement? Who would come visit who? How often? No matter what question it was, the answer always resulted in more questions.

To you it was like Cove didn't trust you, like he didn't believe you loved him enough to do anything to make it work. For Cove you were… well you don't know. He was silent about the issue of the future. It was like you were discussing it with yourself as if there isn't another person in the relationship. It was frustrating, it made you angry at him and at yourself for being angry at him. You grabbed your pillow which had become a bucket for your tears and you cried and screamed into it. Over time your tears and screams died down and you drifted into not a peaceful sleep but a painful one. When you woke up you stumbled down stairs in a trance and nearly rounded the corner before you heard it. You stopped in your tracks immediately and sunk to the floor. It was him, your love, the neighborhood boy, Cove Holden.

“How are they?” He spoke quietly.

“I can't lie to you and say they're fine but they are resting right now.” Mom said with a sigh.

“Tha… T-That’s fine but what about eating, drinking, packing, and leaving the house?” He stuttered nervously. You wanted to laugh. It was so Cove to still be nervous talking to someone he knew essentially his whole life.

“Yes, of course. We’ve made sure, nothing to worry about.” At that you heard a sigh of relief come from the green haired boy.

“Okay, okay good. Um could you just let me know if they need anything.” His voice was shaky like he wanted to cry.

“They need you, kid.” Your mom said slowly. There was a long silence at this. Was it actually long or were you just anxious you weren’t sure.

“...I need them more.” He said in a barely intelligible whisper. Goodbyes were said and stayed on the floor even as you heard mom coming your way. When she was in your sight her eyes widened but more in worry than surprised. You tilted your head at her and that’s when you felt it. Tears were cascading from your eyes. You wiped them away in surprise and rose to your feet.

“Im fine.” You said before jogging to your room where you curled into a ball as if to shield you from the impending doom. From this position you watched the sunset and the moon rise, almost unblinking. You felt tears soak your pillow, you had begun crying without realizing again.

This couldn't go on, you had to talk to Cove.

Muscle memory had kicked in from the one time you had snuck into Cove’s room and boom. You were sitting on his bedside stroking his hair as he slept. Just like you it seemed his sleep was anything but peaceful. His brow was creased and you couldn’t help but thumb along it prompting him to wake up. His eyes shot open and he blinked a while before he sighed.

“Are you gonna be a dream or a nightmare.” he said softly.

“I'm in your nightmares?” You said glancing to the side. At this he shot up. Tears pulled in his eyes as he held his hand out to you. As soon as his fingers brushed your face he let out a quiet sob.

“So dream or nightmare then?” You said with watery eyes.

“An absolute dream.” He said with a firmness in him that was rare.

“Cove I don't want to talk about it right now, can we sleep...together.”

“Yes!” he shouted quietly, immediately making space for you under his blankets. You moved with equal amount of eagerness and soon for the first time in a while you felt truly at peace.

“Can...can I hold you.” You didn't say anything to his request, just moved closer and grabbed onto his nightshirt. Instantly you both fall into a deep peaceful sleep.

“Hey kid, I wanna talk…” Cliff trailed off awkwardly as he locked eyes with you. Cove was fast asleep, head in your lap and arms squeezing you. You smiled and put your finger to your lips. Cliff got the signal and walked out with a smile. Cove slept for 30 minutes more before his icy blue eyes met yours.

“Uh, wanna eat? I got all the ingredients for…” he didn’t need to finish the red flush of his face said enough. He was eating your favorite and you were eating his. You let off a quiet laugh.

“I’m feeling more peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches. Maybe some fruit.” You smiled down at him. His eyes lit up and you were dragged into the kitchen and now you both were about done making the sandwiches.

“What are you glaring at my sandwiches for?” You jokingly accused him.

“There isn’t enough honey on it, honey.” He said poking your forehead. You laughed and he laughed and then you both went to sit at the table. Mr. Holden was there too and made moves to get up but was stopped by the both of you shouting no. Awkwardly he sat back down.

“So, how’s packing coming? Coves been putting it off, so much.” He asked you gently.

“I’m pretty much done! Nothing in my room but a bed now.” You said with a smile.

“That’s great, still planning on leaving for college?” He asked with caution.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m going to miss having you around.” You said with a small smile. The impromptu breakfast was over soon after this and you were left alone with cove again. Questions about the future loomed over you and this time you were going to get answers.

“Can... we talk?” You said staring at him with determination.

“Yes..” he trailed off

“No Cove, can we really talk? Like talk things out, like argue and come to a consensus.”

“Yes but I just don’t... want us to fight” he said playing with his hands.

“Arguments are normal cove, hell they’re healthy even. The unhealthy part is what you do during the argument and what you do after. Of course, we could try just talking first.” You smiled at him hoping to ease his nervousness.

“So you mean to say storming off to your son's room and pacing isn't a healthy way of closing an argument?” He said with a joking tone.

“Well if we ever get to the talk about the future, maybe one day you could see just how healthy it is…” You trailed off looking at him hopefully. Cove let out one of his cute squeaks as he flushed red. He raked his fingers through his hair before he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the sofa.

“Let's… talk then.” he said, glancing at you and then away.

“Alright, Cove, I'm going far away. What you are asking to do is impractical, I'm asking you not to do it.” You said seriously.

“It's 36 hours by car on the fastest route and 3 hours and 29 minutes by plane, it's not impractical, it's totally possible.” He said with unusually fierce eyes.

“Sure but you want to do it every two weeks, twice a month! It's not safe for you to drive that long. Think of the money it’ll cost to fly or put gas in your car. Also you'll have your own bills now, your own place. It's not all that possible.” You spoke firmly.

“Doesn't matter… i'll make it possible and safe. If I need to, I'll stay with my dad for a while. Moving out isn’t that big of a deal” He said not backing down

“No Cove, do you hear yourself? You’ve wanted to move out and be in your own place for a while. What happened to the boy who wanted to do everything the way he wanted without listening to set rules or a predetermined plan?”

“This isn't someone's predetermined plan for me, it's what I want.”

“What about what I want?” you said softly

“Is what you want… not to be around me? Or am I too.. too clingy for you? Cause if so I promise I won't intrude too much.. And I’ll give you space-”

“No! Its nothing like that! You are never gonna be too clingy for me, you could get clinger if you wanted. I just want you to be safe, okay?” You said cutting that thought off immediately

“I promise I will be then.” He said hesitantly.

“Baby, the whole action of it isn't safe physically or financially for either of us right now. I'm not saying you can't come but what about once every month or even better ill come back here every break I have. They aren't frequent but I'd be with you for a while.”

“It's not enough!” He said, raising his voice at you. It's the first time he’d ever done it but you didn't respond, you just blinked at him and waited for him to continue.

“I need to see you more than that.. I just have to.” He said, looking away from you.

“Why? We’ve spent weeks apart before. Every summer you leave and we come out of it fine, it's the same.”

“No its not the same, at all.” He spoke firmly as his eyes got misty but he pressed on. “When I went with my mom I knew where you were, what you were most likely doing. It was routine, sunset bird is our place. Even if something new comes along I'm never out of the loop… but when you leave you’ll be in a new place with different people and new things you can experience. You’ll be in a place with all four seasons, they get snow! I won't know what you're doing any more and we might not even be on the same wavelength any more. You’ll make new friends and meet people who won't be afraid to lay in bed with you or stutter a lot or make weird noises. You’ll be changing and I’ll still be the same 8 year old cry baby you met on the poppy hill… you’ll leave and then you’ll disappear.” He said scrubbing at his tears. You stared at him before you started to laugh. You laughed so hard you started to cry.

“Let me get this straight, you want to come visit me so often because you're afraid I'll become this social butterfly and find better people than you, Miranda, and Terri? Me?” You were overcome with laughter again and paused to catch your breath. “I’m overly honest, pushy, a little demanding, and have “strange” interests. When have you ever known me to be easy to make friends with or be sociable with any other than you? You know I knew I was gonna marry you from the moment I laid eyes on you at the ripe age of 8? I wish some dumb college kid would try to change my plans i’d kill them… nothing is gonna take me away from you and I will always come home. Home, cove holden, is wherever you are.” Cove was hugging you in a second crying into your neck.

“I quite like your squeaks and weird noises by the way.” You could feel his face heat up in your neck as he laughed.

“Every break?”

“Every break longer than 2 days.”

“At my place… the whole time?”

“Duh I said I was going home.”

“Alright then, we agree. I want to come spend a break with you though, want to see your place.” He said squeezing you tighter.

“Of course… Also one last thing we need to put to bed.” Cove let out a groan at your words.

“Nothing bad at all. Just this.” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. You handed it to cove as his eyes watered again.

“I know I already proposed but I wanted to get you something regardless. Its also so all these single people keep their grubby little paws off my love.” He blushed at you and whispered your name the way he always did when he was feeling embarrassed or overwhelmed. He opened it as tears fell down his face.

“Theres two?”

“Yeah look at the inside of the bands.” Each one was engraved with your respective nicknames for each other.

“Were engaged we minus well look the part. This way everybody at my college knows I managed to lockdown the most amazing guy to ever grace sunset bird.” You said kissing his nose. He wasted no time putting his on and handing you yours.

“I love you.” He said, eyes no longer misty.

“I love you so much, Cove.” You echoed his sentiment.

“Wanna go to our hill, we have a lot to make up for. I’ve missed you so much.” He said, grabbing your hand. You nodded and you both turned to leave. You both quickly made eye contact with Clifford Holden who was misty eyed. You gathered he had been there for a while.

“Sho...Should I pretend i didn't just see or hear that as well?” He said his hand on his neck.

#cove holden #our life: beginnings & always #cove #cove holden x reader

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Afraid to Love Again

Lady Tamayo x They/Them Reader

A/N: Heyooo. Tamayo is great, but I kind of struggle writing her. I tried anyway though because I love this demon doctor lady. Be prepared for sickness, death and a dash of angst. There is a happy ending though (my delicate heart wouldn’t be able to take it if there wasn’t)! Also, it’s kinda a reincarnation/ soulmate kind of deal but I didn’t really develop that angle too much. And I can’t remember how much of Tamayo’s backstory was discussed in the manga vs the anime so just a heads up on that. It’s not super spoilery or anything (I think you could guess how that went) but just in case I thought I’d let y’all know. Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 6,939

The village had fallen on hard times. Work was scarce, poverty and disease was rampant. Over the past several months, (Y/n) had seen many family, friends and neighbors fall ill and never rise again. Those who had the strength to leave did, and many offered passage to (Y/n) as well. Though they were thankful for the offers of sanctuary, (Y/n) remained in their family home. They converted it into a makeshift hospital and began caring for the people who no longer could take care of themselves.

There were no doctors in their little village. The nearest, (Y/n) heard was days away. They couldn’t risk leaving all of these sick souls without someone to look after them, they would surely be dead before they could get back. If these people, their people, were going to die either way, they wanted to be there to make the process as easy as possible.

(Y/n) had seen more death and sickness than most. They had almost forgotten what it was like to truly live.

“(Y/n)-san?”

(Y/n) paused their movements wiping sweat from an old woman’s body, and turned to the cot behind them.

“Yes, Ichiro?” (Y/n) smiled kindly, though their eyes reflected just how tired they were.

“I don’t feel so good.” The young child coughed harshly.

“I know, I’m sorry. Let me get you some water.”

(Y/n) quickly finished bathing the old woman left behind by her family and tucked her in. (Y/n) suspected she’d be dead before the next morning. The rattling, gurgling breaths were just about the only sign that she wasn’t already gone.

(Y/n) put the rag in a basket to be washed for later, then they retrieved some water for the sick boy. They made their way through the sea of moaning people waiting for death, checking in with the more lucid villagers as they went.

(Y/n) was caring for thirty-seven people in their ancestral home and they did so alone. Any healthy people that remained in the village avoided the plagued building at all costs. It was hard work, keeping all of these people as comfortable as they could. But compared to the seventy people they had started with during those first weeks of winter, it was much more manageable.

“Here you go, drink as much as you can.” (Y/n) spoke softly, helping the boy sit up to receive it.

He took a few sips before spluttering, excess water slipped down his chin. He sniffed and held his throat, curling back into himself.

(Y/n) skimmed their hand over Ichiro’s burning forehead and watched him struggle forlornly.

How much longer would they all have to live in this hell?

(Y/n)’s question, however rhetoric, was answered the next night.

(Y/n) groaned between blinks of sleep. They had fallen asleep while standing, again. The noise that so rudely awakened them sounded like someone was rattling the door of the main entrance.

Who could it be at this hour? Weary travelers? Surely they had a fair choice in vacated homes already. No matter, (Y/n) figured once they caught the full blast of the smell of death permeating the air they would retreat quickly enough.

They approached the door sliding it open with little preamble. Even if the smell wasn’t enough to deter the unwanted guests, surely the look of utter despair (Y/n) wore would scare them off.

“I’m afraid if you came searching for lodging, I cannot take you.” (Y/n) spoke, barely perceiving the two people before them. “There are, however, many empty homes you have passed by that you are more than welcome to help yourselves too. I would recommend to be on your way quickly, sickness is rampant here.”

“That is why I’ve come.”

(Y/n) allowed themself a puzzled face, finally looking at the woman and her stern looking companion more carefully, taking in the delicate beauty of the stranger before them.

“I’m a doctor.”

(Y/n) suddenly felt more awake, staring at the woman with unrestrained hope and awe.

“Really?” They whispered, as if afraid this was all just a dream or a sleep deprived hallucination.

“Are you doubting her?” The young man spoke up sharply.

“Yushirou.” The woman warned, leveling a look at her companion that immediately shut him back up. The woman turned back to (Y/n). The soft, empathetic look in her eyes made (Y/n) feel weak. The softness of her voice as she addressed (Y/n) again made them feel fragile, all the while they shook like a leaf.

“Allow me to evaluate your sick. I’ll do everything I can.”

“Please,” (Y/n) nodded, making room for the pair to enter their home turned sick ward, “even in my wildest dreams I never thought anyone would actually come for us. I’ve tried so hard to save these people, but I am no doctor.”

The woman came forward, gingerly taking (Y/n)’s shaking hands in her own. (Y/n) noted how cold they were but still held on to the offered hands like a lifeline.

“You’ve done well with what you have, your kindness is immeasurable. Sleep now, and leave the rest to us.”

“Who are you?” (Y/n) asked, suddenly feeling as if they were about to collapse. Just hearing those words was like a weight was dropped from their aching shoulders. The woman caught them before they could fall, the young man, Yushirou, let out a strangled noise of displeasure but stayed back.

“You may call me Tamayo.”

***

When (Y/n) awoke, it was still dark. They assumed they must have only slept a few hours. At least, they thought so until they noticed a crack of sunlight shining between the curtains.

(Y/n) held their head in their hands and grimaced. They couldn’t even remember the last time they had slept in their own bed before now. They didn’t even remember how they got there. They sighed. It didn’t matter, they needed to get up and see how everyone was doing. They had already been negligent long enough.

(Y/n) noticed as they walked through the halls that all the curtains were drawn. They found it odd. The curtains were always kept open regularly, (Y/n) couldn’t be bothered to deal with such minor details in the grand scheme of things and they wouldn’t start now. They left the curtains closed and continued on their way.

“What are you doing up already?”

(Y/n) turned, shocked at the clear and present voice. It had been a long time since they heard someone who sounded so strong and healthy. They turned and saw a grumpy boy staring sternly at them.

“Who are you?” (Y/n) asked, holding on to the wall as a dizzy spell passed through them.

“Tsk, get back to bed. You clearly aren’t well.” The boy said.

“Yushirou? Did you find any— oh, awake already? You should rest more.” (Y/n) turned back down the opposite side of the hall and saw the woman who had been in their restless dreams the night before.

“You’re... You’re real?” (Y/n) asked, mostly to themself, peering at the woman with blurred vision.

“Yes,” Tamayo smiled sadly approaching (Y/n), “you don’t need to worry anymore. Yushirou and I are taking care of things. Please, rest.”

“No, wait. I want to help. Please, teach me everything you know.” (Y/n) pleaded, sliding to their knees as they gave out.

“Like you could help anyone like this. You were already way past your limits before. Stay out of Lady Tamayo’s way.” Yushirou stated harshly.

“No need to speak in such a cold manner, Yushirou.” Tamayo scolded lightly before coming to kneel at (Y/n)’s side, rubbing their back. “How about this, you rest until you are back to full health, then you may observe my work. Is this acceptable?”

(Y/n) frowned, but nodded in agreement. “Yes, thank you.”

“Of course. Yushirou, help our host back to their room please.”

Yushirou readily complied, easily picking (Y/n) up and retiring them to their room.

“And stay there this time.” He grumbled.

(Y/n) fell back asleep almost immediately and when they awoke once more, another day had come and gone. They felt a lot better, just hungry. So they got up and made their way back down the hall to see what was left of the foraging they had done a couple days prior. Hopefully, Tamayo and Yushirou were well versed in the plant life of the area and got some more.

They stopped at the sick ward first to see how things were going. Yushirou wasn’t around, but (Y/n) saw Tamayo whispering to a sick man. Whatever she had asked him, he shook his head looking a tad uncomfortable. (Y/n) moved closer and Tamayo turned, like she could sense their presence and offered a tight smile.

“You look much better. How are you feeling?” She asked.

“As good as I can be. How have things been going here?”

“I apologize, we lost three while you slept.” Tamayo informed solemnly.

“You don’t need to apologize. It means the world to us that you care to try at all.” (Y/n) replied, sincerely. “I’m sure you’ve noticed we don’t have very much in value. Not many people would work like this for no incentive.”

“You must be one of them.” Tamayo’s eyes softened, “you could have left, but you stayed with them. You have a kind heart.”

“...Thank you.” (Y/n) rubbed the back of their neck and looked away, feeling heat gather around their cheeks.

“I just realized I don’t know your name.” Tamayo said. “How rude of me to not ask sooner.”

“It’s alright. I haven’t exactly been conscious most of the time you’ve been here.” (Y/n) let out a dry laugh, “I’m (Y/n).”

“Just (Y/n)?” Tamayo blinked.

“If I can call you Tamayo, please call me (Y/n).”

“Very well, (Y/n).” Tamayo smiled. “I have a few more people to visit with at the moment. Would you care to observe?”

“Yes, I—“ (Y/n) stomach growled before they could finish speaking, they held onto their gut, abashed.

“Oh, you haven’t eaten? You should have told me, we must keep you healthy. Come,” Tamayo guided (Y/n) to their own kitchen where Yushirou was watching over a boiling pot.

“Yushirou, when the broth is done give (Y/n) a bowl please.” Tamayo asked.

“I just finished it Tamayo-sama. I’ll get on it right now.”

(Y/n) slurped down the broth with vigor and thanked Yushirou profusely, making him blush and turn away. They fed the rest to the sick. (Y/n) had asked Tamayo and Yushirou why they hadn’t taken any for themselves to which Tamayo replied that they had already eaten not long before (Y/n) had woken up.

After a long day of absorbing any teachings Tamayo had to share, (Y/n) was sent back to bed for the night much to their dismay.

“But, I slept just recently! I can still help!” (Y/n) frowned as Tamayo ushered them back to their room.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but humans are supposed to go to sleep every night. Yushirou and I have everything under control.” Tamayo assured.

“You guys need to sleep sometime too you know.” (Y/n) retorted.

“Don’t worry, we rest in turns.” Tamayo spoke. (Y/n) couldn’t explain why, but they felt as if Tamayo was being a bit deceitful with her words. However, they let her be for now and went back to bed without anymore fuss.

When (Y/n) woke up the next morning, they were surprised to see that some of the people looked much better already. Of course they were still quite ill, but (Y/n) felt hopeful for them. Unfortunately, the man, Jiro, that (Y/n) had seen Tamayo talking to the day before had died sometime in the night. A few others seemed to be not far behind him in that aspect. Still, (Y/n) worked hard and learned everything they could about the medicines Tamayo crafted and how to distribute them.

“Tamayo?” (Y/n) asked one night before being sent back to bed by the motherly woman.

“Yes, (Y/n)?”

“I was just wondering... what made you come through here? Our village hasn’t had outsiders since last spring, if even then.”

“I was simply looking for somewhere quiet to practice my craft. We were passing through when we realized this village was a little, too quite.”

“Mm, yeah... well, you’re welcome to stay. You can even live here forever if you want, I don’t mind.”

“That’s a rather, bold, offer.” Tamayo replied after a short pause. It was then that (Y/n) realized how that may have sounded and got embarrassed.

“I mean, because— sorry if that was weird. I just, it’s nice having you and Yushirou-san around. I can tell your both good people, you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!”

“You didn’t,” Tamayo had a far away look in her eye, but she still reached out to pat (Y/n)’s arm in a gesture of kindness, “I appreciate the sentiment, but it will be best for all of we take our leave once we are done here.”

“I see,” (Y/n) tried to keep the disappointment out of their voice, “we’ll just have to make the most out of the time we do have.”

“I suppose. If that is what you wish.”

Over the next several days (Y/n) noticed several odd little behaviors and happenings in their home. They went out one morning to gather certain plants and herbs for Tamayo and when the came back, they noticed a piece of paper with a strange symbol drawn on it that they had never seen before. They questioned Yushirou about it since he was the first one they saw upon returning.

Yushirou scoffed, saying it was a healing symbol and told (Y/n) under no uncertain terms that they shouldn’t look at it, much less even think about touching it. (Y/n) promised him they wouldn’t and backed away into the kitchen with their basket of herbs and a bead of nervous sweat running down their chin.

They also noticed how neither Tamayo or Yushirou appeared to ever eat or sleep when they were around. Even when (Y/n) made something as light as tea, they were refused by both travelers.

Another oddity was that Yushirou always yelled at (Y/n) for peeking through curtains to see if the sun was shining. For some reason, he and Lady Tamayo did not seem to be fond of the sun. Perhaps they were just light sensitive or burned easily. They both seemed to be very fair skinned. (Y/n) was often sent off alone on errands during the day as well. They didn’t complain though, they were happy to help in anyway they could, even if the doctor and her assistant were a bit odd.

Stranger yet was how Tamayo would speak so softly to the deathly ill who showed no signs of recovery. The soft lilt of Tamayo’s voice was not what (Y/n) found strange, they were quite enamored with its dreamlike quality. It was the soft urgency in which she spoke so quietly that always left (Y/n) curious. They only witnessed such events a few times, but they always had ended with the recipient of Tamayo’s whispered words dead mere hours later.

(Y/n) didn’t fault Tamayo for such coincidences. The good doctor probably knew who would die the second she entered the room that first night. (Y/n) figured she was just giving them some form of solace in their final hours to help them find peace.

It was one night where (Y/n) had woken up with a painful thirst for water when things became... complicated.

“We need to think about leaving soon, Tamayo-sama.” (Y/n) heard Yushirou speak as they neared the kitchen. “You have already gone past your limit of resistance by a few days.”

“I’ll be fine, Yushirou. Soon there will be a good handful of people who will have their strength back. (Y/n) still has much I can teach them... we mustn’t leave just yet.”

“The blood here is diseased and of poor quality, even if you could get some without anyone noticing, it would not be filling enough to do much good. Please my lady, let’s keep moving to the next city like we planned.” Yushirou stressed.

“I can’t Yushirou, not when these people need help that only I can adequately provide. I can go a little longer...”

(Y/n) stood still in the hall as they listened in. Tamayo needed blood? For what, a transfusion? They took a deep breath and entered the room.

“If you need blood—“

The air was suddenly knocked out of their lungs as Yushirou came forward with inhumane speed and knocked (Y/n) hard into the back wall.

“Spying? Why couldn’t you just keep your nose away from where it doesn’t belong!” Yushirou hissed, tightening his hold.

“Yushirou!” Tamayo warned, coming up behind him, willing him to loosen his grip, “don’t hurt them.”

Yushirou clicked his tongue in agitation and allowed (Y/n) to slide to the ground in a fit of gasps and coughs.

Tamayo knelt beside them and checked them over with a worried frown.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). You aren’t hurt are you?”

(Y/n) took a moment to catch their breath before answering, “I, I don’t think so.” They coughed again, “Damn Yushirou, you are a lot tougher than you look!”

Yushirou growled, but upon seeing the stern look Tamayo leveled at him he backed off and looked away, almost sheepish. He looked more like a scolded guard dog than anything else.

Tamayo turned back to (Y/n) looking forlorn, “How much did you hear?”

“You need blood or you’ll have to leave.” (Y/n) answered honestly, “If you need blood, you can have some of mine... I don’t know if it’s the right type, but if it’s what you need, I’ll be more than happy to give it to you.”

Tamayo shook her head. “(Y/n), I don’t think you understand what you are offering.”

“It’s my blood, I’ll offer it to whomever I please,” (Y/n) staggered back to their feet, “and I want to give it to you. You don’t even need to tell me what for.”

Tamayo scanned (Y/n)’s face before closing her eyes and turning away. She walked towards a nearby window and pulled open the curtains, allowing the full moonlight to glide over her skin and flowery kimono. (Y/n) swallowed thickly, clearing their throat they turned to look out the window as well. The young doctor was bewitchingly beautiful and (Y/n) could not risk missing whatever Tamayo had to say.

“Before you commit yourself to this decision, you must first understand what I am.”

“Tamayo-sama!” Yushirou called out only for Tamayo to raise her hand to call for his silence.

“...What you are?” (Y/n) cocked their head to the side, confused. “You look like a normal person to me.”

“That’s what makes a lot of my kind so dangerous.” Tamayo sighed, her eyes still trained on the moon, “Monsters in human skin. Although there are many who wear their sin in grotesque and prideful ways.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but it’s not like all humans are great people either. Like how Ichiro’s parents left him here after he got sick and still haven’t wrote back like they promised. Even if you are different from humans as you are claiming, I can’t say that your any worse than the people I know. In fact, I’d say you’re better than a lot of the people I know.” (Y/n) tried to explain.

“I’ve done more evil and unforgivable deeds in my time on this earth than I could ever atone for. Even as I work to do better I know I can’t take back all the harm I’ve caused.” Tamayo shook her head and turned to (Y/n), cupping their cheek with a chilled hand, “I’ve aided in more atrocities than you have years on this planet. Do not let what you’ve seen of me in these short weeks fool you.”

“Okay, so you’re committed to believing your evil and irredeemable, is that right?” (Y/n) grasped the hand at their cheek, holding it in their own, “Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to believe that. I don’t know what you’ve done, but you’re obviously torn up about it. I can’t say someone who was pure evil would think twice about that.”

Tamayo pulled her hand away, cradling it close to her chest and turned back to the window with a slight tremble before whispering, “I’m a demon, (Y/n). I’ve turned Yushirou as well. We get by on blood these days but before then, I have killed and devoured many humans in five hundred years. Tell me now you don’t find me repulsive.”

“I don’t!” (Y/n) spoke immediately and resolutely, surprising the demon doctor and Yushirou to an extent with their resolve. “I don’t know who you were or what you were going through back then, but the Tamayo I know is kind enough to stop in some nowhere village to take care of sick people she doesn't even know while expecting nothing in return. I can’t say my word means very much in the grand scheme of things, but I don’t think you’re a monster. Monsters don’t mourn over their victims. I think you’re a good person Tamayo, worthy of my blood if you’ll just let me give it to you.”

The determined look on (Y/n)’s face made Tamayo feel as if she’d seen a specter from her past. She felt tempted to reach out again but held back, afraid of what, she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell. (Y/n) took her silence as a hesitation and insisted once more, bearing their arm up to the crook of their elbow.

“Take what you two need. Please don’t make me try to do it myself.”

Tamayo closed the distance between them quickly and held (Y/n)’s arms as if she was frightened of them doing something dangerous to themself.

“Yushirou, please get the phlebotomy kit from the travel bag.” Tamayo asked softly.

Yushirou nodded. Though he was not particularly fond of how close his master was to the human, he was glad she would finally be getting some sustenance.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” (Y/n) tried to joke to lighten the mood.

“You can revoke your offer whenever you wish. If you want us to leave you may ask us to do so without fear. I promise you.” Tamayo said, nothing but sincerity in her tone.

“I’ll keep it in mind, but I’ll do no such thing. Now, I hope you don’t think it rude of me for drinking some water myself first before I get you your... beverage. It was the whole reason I was walking through in the first place.” (Y/n) said as they walked across the kitchen and fetched some water.

Tamayo’s lips curled ever so slightly into a wisp of a smile aimed at (Y/n)’s back as they drank.

***

Now that (Y/n) knew they were sheltering a couple of demons, the strange behaviors they had noted prior made more sense and they took them in stride. They loved teasing Tamayo and Yushirou about the quality of their blood. Often making Tamayo flush faintly or earn a quick jab to the chest from Yushirou that was probably harder than he should be hitting a fragile human.

They kept the knowledge of their species to themself, not wanting to stress the sick or endanger Tamayo in some way. They had since learned that the strange papers that were littered around their house were actually some kind of warding seal that Yushirou could produce to keep their presence hidden to outsiders. If all that Tamayo had told (Y/n) about the realness of demons held true, they were surprised that they hadn’t encountered them sooner. Perhaps the constant scent of death and decay had kept them at bay, figuring there was no fresh flesh to tear into.

However, that was all changing now. Of the twenty-six remaining villagers, twenty-five were making marked improvements in their health and many could even walk about the the house without being too fatigued. (Y/n) had smiled so brightly when they saw Ichiro slide out of bed one morning that they had brought a hand to their mouth in delighted shock. They couldn’t remember the last time they had smiled so earnestly. Tamayo had surprised them, taking their hand away from their mouth.

“Let your joy shine through. The light you have to share could lift anyone’s spirits. I know it has lifted mine, so don’t hide please.” Tamayo said kindly.

“Right!” (Y/n) laughed sheepishly as heat crawled up their neck. They were sure Tamayo could hear the blood rushing through their system but thankfully she was polite enough not to comment on it.

“(Y/n)-san, can you take us outside?” One of the other young children asked.

“Mhm, only for a little bit though. Don’t want to over do it now, do we?”

“Tamayo-san, do you want to come?” Ichiro asked hopefully.

“Tamayo-san is very busy. But I’m sure she’ll be happy to read you a story later. Won’t that be nice?” (Y/n) smiled, saving Tamayo from having to come up with an excuse to avoid the brightness of the spring sun.

A small group gathered and slowly made their way outside, blinking hard against the bright sun stinging their eyes. Still, they felt overjoyed. Many never thought they’d make it through the winter so they took in the scenery before them with a range of emotions.

When they returned, (Y/n) helped everyone get settled again. As they did, they noticed Tamayo speaking quietly to the young woman in the corner cot. She had been fighting against the illness for a particularly long time and had been getting worse as of late. Keeping the interaction in mind, (Y/n) made their way to the kitchens to see if Yushirou needed any assistance with lunch. Now that everyone’s appetites were returning they had to produce a bit more than they had in the past.

When everyone was fed, (Y/n) had managed to find Tamayo alone. The doctor had found the old ceremonial tea room and enjoyed the space, so naturally (Y/n) had given her permission to do with it what she liked. (Y/n) knocked and announced themself, waiting for Tamayo to beckon them in before entering.

“(Y/n), does someone need something? Do you need something?” Tamayo asked, momentarily pausing in her herb crushing to look up at them.

“No, everything seems fine right now. Although Kotori does not appear to be doing well at all.” (Y/n) sighed, kneeling across from Tamayo. “...She’s going to die, isn’t she?”

“Yes.” Tamayo nodded solemnly. “I gave her medicine to dull her pain, but she’ll be dead before the next morning. There is nothing more I can do for her.”

“What do you tell them?” (Y/n) asked, “I mean, I’ve noticed how you talk to the dying ones before they pass. What do you say to someone who’s dying like that?”

“Many times they already know the end is near and have accepted it. Many are relieved to know the fighting and pain is almost over for them. What I offer them... is a second chance at life.”

(Y/n)’s eyes narrowed in concentration before shooting back open. “You offered to turn them into demons, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It can be, only if you don’t have someone to look out for you and remind you who you are. I would be there for them as I was for Yushirou of course.” Tamayo assured, though she looked guilty. “You must think it cruel of me to offer this cursed existence.”

“Not at all. Many people fear death. I can especially understand it from a perspective of those who have yet to truly live. As long as they can remember their humanity, I don’t have a problem with it.” (Y/n) smiled, “I’m sure with you to guide them they would be just fine.”

Tamayo blushed and got back to work, grinding her herbs.

“Though I’m surprised, has no one taken up your offer since you got here?”

Tamayo shook her head, but a small smile pulled at her lips, “No. I’m content with their choices though. I think they were all very brave choosing to face the unknown.”

“Speaking of unknown,” (Y/n) mumbled between their fingers as they watched Tamayo carefully scoop her powder into a jar before moving on to the next herb. “Everyone will be more or less back to full health soon... are you still planning on leaving?”

“(Y/n), we’ve already discussed this,” Tamayo frowned, “I was never meant to stay here.”

“But you could.” (Y/n) said, an almost frantic waver in their voice, “you taught me a lot about medicine and how to be a physician, but you’ve quite literally have hundreds of years more experience than I do. Not to mention everyone here loves you, I love you—“ (Y/n) tried to shut themself up but it was too late. As made evident by the roundness of Tamayo’s eyes.

“Oh (Y/n), I’m sorry.” Tamayo said, the pestle held in between her fingers shook.

“Don’t be sorry, just, stay?” (Y/n) stuttered. “You can forget the last part if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“This just further proves that I mustn’t be here.” Tamayo put the pestle down and covered her eyes with her hands.

(Y/n)’s heart ached so much they felt compelled to rub the the spot in an attempt to soothe it. “Is the idea of me loving you really that awful?” They asked, a watery chuckle falling from their lips.

“(Y/n), it’s not that simple.” Tamayo tried to explain, but (Y/n) was already getting up and heading out of the room.

“It’s fine. I’ll try to stay out of your way. Stick around a bit longer for the sake of the village is all I ask.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for an answer. They went to their room and felt numb the rest of the day.

They were jostled out of their upset thoughts by the sound of pounding feet drawing closer and before they could react any further, Yushirou barged in practically foaming at the mouth. (Y/n) was not intimidated by the display however.

“Would it kill you to knock?”

“What have you done to upset Tamayo-sama?” He seethed, his voice a dangerous whisper.

“I’ve momentarily burdened her with my feelings. Don’t worry, once you get on the road again I’m sure she’ll feel much better. And you’ll have her all to yourself again, you must be thrilled.” (Y/n) bitterly informed.

“Don’t speak as if this is no large matter, you’ve left Tamayo-sama very distraught! What did you do? Why was she crying?”

“Crying?” (Y/n) asked, the information chilled them like a sudden torrential rainfall.

“Yes! Now what did you say to her you mongrel? Spit it out!” Yushirou growled, grabbing at the neck of (Y/n)’s clothing to shake them around a bit.

“I kinda... told her I loved her?”

“You what?!” Yushirou bellowed with rage and envy befitting a rival.

“I’m pretty sure you heard me the first time.” (Y/n) still had the gall to tease the demon knowing full well he could think of ten different ways to kill them with one hand tied behind his back.

“You idiot! Don’t you know what she’s been through? And you just think you can say such things and be on your merry way? Honestly, a goddess like her should not have to shed tears for such insolence!”

“What are you talking about?” (Y/n) grunted. The hold Yushirou had them in was very uncomfortable.

“If I tell you, you must never bring this up to Tamayo-sama, and you will apologize right away for your unsavory actions. Do you understand?”

“...yes.” (Y/n) nodded tentatively. Yushirou let go of them and they rubbed at their tender flesh where he had dug in.

“Tamayo-sama was ill once as well,” Yushirou began, observing the books (Y/n) had strewn around the room with a bit of disdain for the mess, “when she was human, she was desperately searching for a cure that would save her from an agonizing death. Then, as fate would have it, one day she met a man who promised her a cure for her ailment. What that man did to her turned her into a demon. It was true that Tamayo-sama was freed from the pains of her illness, but at the cost of everything she held dear. For you see, the man had not explained what she would become and with no way to control herself, she had killed and devoured her husband and children.” Yushirou crossed his arms tightly, “Do you understand now? Can you imagine what that must have been like?”

“I had no idea.” (Y/n) looked down at their feet.

“Yeah, then you come in and— argh! What are you still hanging around for? Go apologize already! You’ve already waited the daylight away, get moving!”

“Okay, I’m going! I’m going!” (Y/n) batted the angry demon away and jogged down the hall. They checked every room until they made it to the sick bay.

They asked around and quickly learned that Tamayo had gone out for a moonlit walk. They thanked the patients and quickly made their way out the door, shutting it tightly behind them.

They looked out from the engawa, scanning the scenery they saw no sign of the demon doctor. Deciding the nearby forest was their best bet, they hopped off of the engawa, bare feet against the grass and dirt, and jogged into the woods.

“Tamayo?” (Y/n) called for her, searching around for any clues to her whereabouts.

They traveled deeper still, teasing the edge of the deep woods where not even the sun could shine through on the brightest of days, much less the soft reflection of the moon. They heard a rustle.

“Tamayo?”

(Y/n) felt the hairs on the neck and arms scrape to attention. Their heart was beating frantically as the noise drew closer. It couldn’t be Tamayo, she surely would have called out in return.

Then, (Y/n) screamed.

They couldn’t remember how they had ended up on the ground. They blinked sluggishly up at the moon only for it to be blocked moments later by a blurry figure. (Y/n) swore they saw swirls of colorful flowers dancing at the corners of their vision. (Y/n) winced and gurgled. Why did their chest hurt so bad, what was this pressure?

“(Y/n), please, tell me what to do. What do you want me to do?” A muffled voice cried, confusing (Y/n).

They tried to take in another breath but it just felt like they were drowning. The voice sounded farther away, but no less pleading, mixed with far away screams and angry yells. Neither of which sounded like they belonged to the figure before them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

‘For what?’ (Y/n) wondered, the pain had faded greatly. Whatever was happening, it was better than the pain. Perhaps they could go back to sleep now.

And so, they did.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, it was to the soft brushing of knuckles against their hair which was almost immediately drowned out by a ferocious hunger. They bent to snap at the fingers but something had kept them restrained. (Y/n) struggled and growled, the need to tear into flesh was, all too fittingly, consuming them.

“(Y/n), take a little at a time. Control yourself.” The voice beside them gently urged, presenting (Y/n) with a tube. They were highly uninterested at first until the further end of the tube was released from a pinched grip and allowed blood to flow down to their waiting mouth. It wasn’t fresh or hot, but it was better than nothing. After a few minutes of stopping and starting the thick slide of blood, the figure took the tube away all together, causing (Y/n) to growl and hiss with displeasure.

“You will need to learn to pace yourself, the sooner you do, the better.” The soft voice informed, not that (Y/n) really understood them.

(Y/n) wasn’t sure how long this had gone on, but they learned quickly not to bite the hand that feeds you, even if it was only aged blood on the menu.

Then slowly, they felt their brain working overtime. Apparently, there was a lot of information hiding under all of the bloodlust, and (Y/n) thought maybe, just maybe, there was a part of themself that detested those desires for human flesh and bone.

Then one night, it was like a fog had finally rolled out of (Y/n)’s mind and they struggled against their restraints for a whole other reason.

“How did I get here?” They yelled, breathing heavily though they had no real need to breathe at all anymore.

(Y/n) heard the soft patter of footsteps on the matted floor out in the hallway. They were honestly surprised they could hear such a slight noise to begin with.

The door slid open and Tamayo stood there, observing them nervously.

“Tamayo!” (Y/n) sighed in relief, “Where were you? All I remember is going out to look for you. How did I even—“

Tamayo was over in a flash, resting her forehead against (Y/n)’s with her hands cupping their cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed, “I didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t speak for yourself. I should have just tried to make your passing quick and comfortable, but I was selfish. I’m so sorry.”

(Y/n) winced, thinking back hurt, but with that last ‘sorry’, they were back in the moonlit woods, bleeding out with Tamayo above them and Yushirou dismantling the low level demon that had jumped them.

(Y/n) leaned their forehead up to meet Tamayo’s more firmly since their arms and legs were still tightly bound.

“You don’t need to apologize, but I forgive you.” They rasped, drawing more tears from the demon doctor.

“I couldn’t lose you. Not again.”

“What do you mean?” (Y/n) asked, puzzled.

“Do you believe in reincarnation, (Y/n)?”

“I think it’s a nice idea, to be reborn as something new.” (Y/n) shrugged as best as they could.

“When I first came to this village, something pulled me to this old house, and it wasn’t the smell of death and ruin. Something inside me told me this was where I needed to be,” Tamayo ran her thumbs along (Y/n)’s cheekbones, “it all led me to you and though you are unique from any other person I have met in all my years roaming this earth, I feel like I knew you life times ago.”

“I feel like I felt something similar.” (Y/n) whispered, “Something about your eyes just felt so familiar. Do you think...”

“Yes and no,” Tamayo smiled sadly, “I believe my husband had a hand in bringing you to me. You may have the same soul but you are still you’re own person with unique experiences. I like seeing little reminders of him in you, but I’m also growing very fond of who you are on your own.”

“Then, why didn’t you tell me before?” (Y/n) asked.

“Because I was afraid and I had every right to be. I almost lost you again.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Tamayo raised her head to brush a kiss over (Y/n)’s forehead, “Forgiven.”

“...Do you think you could maybe untie me now or...?” (Y/n) asked with a goofy smile on their face.

“Oh, yes, I should do that. So long as you promise to tell me if you ever feel like you’re losing yourself.”

“You have my word, my lady.” (Y/n) replied, leaving Tamayo a bit flustered.

“So, how is everyone?” (Y/n) asked with a stretch, sitting up from the bed.

“They all left for new opportunities in the southeast. I apologize, but Yushirou and I thought it best if they believed you had died. A bear mauling.” Tamayo’s nose crinkled very subtly, but (Y/n) easily saw her displeasure.

“Don’t worry, I understand.” (Y/n) said with a melancholic smile. They leaned over hesitantly and kissed the faint wrinkle of Tamayo’s nose away, making the doctor fall forward to bury her head in (Y/n)’s collarbone.

“I worry that you’re too understanding.” Tamayo commented shyly, earning a laugh from (Y/n) and after another moment of stillness, (Y/n) spoke up again.

“Where is Yushirou anyway?”

“I’m in the kitchen and I can hear ever word you say you blood sucker!” Yushirou yelled, making the doctor and the new demon jump at the volume. “You better get travel ready soon, because you gobbled up the last of our blood supply!”

“Sorry!” (Y/n) called awkwardly, snorting only after Yushirou replied with a handful of sounds that made no sense, but got his grumpiness across.

“Don’t feel too bad. It’s a process Yushirou has endured as well. He was no less needy and feral than you were when I changed him.” Tamayo said.

“Needy and feral,” (Y/n) groaned, “I wish you didn’t have to see me like that.” Tamayo chuckled lightly, raising her head from (Y/n)’s chest to look into their eyes making their breath hitch.

“That hasn’t harmed my image of you at all,” Tamayo kissed their cheek, “you are still the sweet,” a kiss to the other cheek, “selfless,” a kiss to the nose, “person you were before this.”

(Y/n) tentatively raised their hands to cup Tamayo’s cheeks, noting the pale blue hue of their previously clear nails as they did so.

“Forgive me if this comes off as needy, but could I kiss you?” They asked, barely above a whisper.

“Please.” Tamayo responded quickly, pulling in (Y/n) from the back of their neck.

Soft lips glided together, occasionally leaving their target to land sweet pecks elsewhere before diving back in. When they finally drew apart, resting their foreheads together, Tamayo smiled brightly. It was a feeling she hadn’t had since she was human all those years ago.

#kny x reader #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #lady tamayo #lady tamayo x reader #tamayo #tamayo x reader

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lacontroller1991 · 4 years

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Is She Mine? (Negan x Wife!Reader)

Anon Request: can you do a negan imagine where the reader was his real wife before the walkers came and after he starts getting more wives and kinda forgets the reader, she leaves in the middle of the night. Then maybe a year later, Negan finds out about another community and tries to take their stuff but he and the saviors get captured and they find out that the reader is the leader? (Optional: maybe the reader was pregnant and Began didn’t know and finds out about the kid)

A/N: Ok I will always associate Negan with Denny Duquette because I watched Grey's before I watched Walking dead and it’s just so weird seeing Jeffrey in a completely different setting.

Warnings: Normal TWD gore, language

You watched from the back as your husband, Negan, pressed another iron to a poor man’s face, causing you to wince as the screams of pain and smell of burnt flesh invaded your nostrils. You looked toward the other wives who looked just as disgusted at what your husband was doing.

You were his first and he was never like this. Always kind and compassionate but then the dead began to rise and he felt the need to grow a shell around his personality, forming an alter ego that everyone knew. No one knew the real Negan, only you, and it made you sick to your stomach watching him turn so sadistic. Shaking your head, you walked away from the group of people that were watching the poor torturing of another worker who dared challenge Negan’s authority. Making your way to your room, you were soon joined by the other wives who ignored you for the most part. They sat throughout the room and talked amongst themselves, reading books or downing drinks that stocked the bar.

“Well would you look at this, all of my wives are looking so divine tonight,” Negan stated as you all looked at him, waiting for his next pick. Whenever he complimented his “collection” it always meant he was wanting sex and would choose one of his wives to satisfy his needs. For the past three months, it hasn’t been you. It’s never you anymore. It’s always one of the younger and prettier ones who weren’t “forced” but were forced to marry him. Swinging his baseball bat around, the girls ignored his eagerness as his eyes surveyed the room, purposely skipping the corner in which you stood, crossing your arms over the small bump that was beginning to form.

“Tina, come with me my dear,” he spoke out after a moment of silence as Tina nodded and followed him out. Once the pair left, you turned around, hiding your face from the rest of the girls before a pair of heels clicked their way over to you.

“How are you?” Sherry asked as you looked at her with an exasperated look.

“Sick, morning sickness is no joke, and he doesn't even know,” you mumbled as she grasped your shoulder in a comforting way before pulling you into a hug.

“You need to get away,” she whispered in your ear as you nodded with a frown.

“I know.”

You sat in your room, hoping Negan would join you tonight like he did when he first started the Sanctuary. As the clock ticked, however, you realized he wasn’t going to join you, again. Sighing, you sat up and tore off the black dress that hugged your figure and traded it for a pair of jeans and a hoodie, making sure to pack a bag of food and water before sneaking out of the compound and into the neighboring woods, never looking back.

That was years ago and you had joined a small community after journeying into the woods for a couple of days. Sooner than later, after their leader fell ill, the people had decided that with your knowledge and natural leadership qualities that you would be the best fit for the role. You insisted that you wouldn’t take the role, but they were insistent on the job as you had caved in. You sat peacefully on the steps of your hut as you heard a sequel from behind you, watching your daughter run out of the house, being chased by another one of the communities kids. Smiling, you were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by the bell ringing throughout the community.

“What’s going on?” You asked one of the guards as your daughter joined your side, clutched to a scarf that you had tied around your pants for her to cling to.

“Our Ops surrounded a group of men. They demand that they speak to the leader of the community,” one of your men stated as you grabbed a walkie talkie.

“Tate, how many?” You asked and waited for a reply.

“15, they call themselves the Saviors. We have them surrounded,” Tate replied, however, you didn’t hear the rest after the mention of the Saviors.

“(Y/N)?” Earl asked, looking you over as you froze in shock. Feeling the tugging at your waist, you looked down and saw your daughter who had his hair and eye shape stare back up at you.

“Mommy, you okay?” She asked as you smiled down at her and pet her hair, smoothing out fly aways.

“Mommy needs you to stay here okay? Don’t come out until I come and get you,” you stated, motioning for one of the other mothers in the community to watch over your kid. Walking away, you grabbed one of the rifles and followed your group out to the woods to meet the man who forgot you.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” You asked from behind the line of men that barricaded the group.

“We are here to hopefully discuss trading opportunities,” Negan stated, not picking up on voice recognition.

“And by trading opportunities you mean pillaging and plundering.”

“If it comes to it, yes.” Simon spoke as you rolled your eyes, making your way through the crowd to the front to face your husband.

“Not a fan,” you spoke with rigor as you saw Negan stiffen, finally comprehending who was behind him.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, straining against the rope around his wrists.

“Hi honey. Miss me?” You asked with spite as you circled his group, coming to face him.

“As a matter of fact I do,” he admitted and for a second your face softened before turning back to a shell.

“We don't want to trade with you.”

“Babe, you should, I wouldn’t want to use force on you,” he replied with a sick smirk as you let out a laugh.

“I don't think you're in much position to bargain right now, sweetie,” you spat out as he growled and tried to launch forward to you, only to fail.

“Mommy!” Your daughter called out to you as you froze, Negan noticed and looked at you quizzically before turning his attention to the little girl who ran toward you.

“Baby, what did I say?”

“To stay back.”

“Now why are you out here?”

“I don’t have my doll,” she spoke softly as you sighed and ran a hand through your hair before pulling out her doll from your pocket.

“Is she mine?” He asked, earning confused stares from everyone in your group and his. Both groups knew that you are married, they just didn't know that you were pregnant or that your kid was Negan’s.

“It's none of your concern anymore,” you replied, pushing your kid behind you while she peered at the man in front of you.

“(Y/N), if she's mine I have the right to have her with me.”

“Not anymore, you lost that right when you started sleeping around with other women. Listen, we’ll let you go if you promise to never come back here again. if you do come back, we will kill you on sight.” Nodding, he remained silent and glanced over to your daughter who was around 4 years old now.

“Are we letting them go?” Tate asked as you nodded, walking away from the scene, taking your daughter’s hand and leading her away from her father.

Later that night you strolled through the yard and checked everything over before you heard a roar of a car come up to the gates.

“(Y/N), I think it’s him,” one of the guards yelled to you as you nodded, signaling them to let you past the gates and out to the open where Negan leaned against his car.

“Is she?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” He asked with a hint of remorse scattered across his face as you looked at him.

“I tried, I tried getting you to come to my room every night to tell you but you were so busy with all of your other wives that you never did. So I ran. I knew it isn’t safe there for her, it’s not safe there for me either.”

“How far were you when you left?”

“Three months. Her name is Sarah,” you mentioned as he smiled softly and looked at you.

“She looks like you,” he mumbled as you scoffed and looked over your shoulder, looking up at the guards who had their rifles aimed at him.

“She acts like you,” you smiled meekly, running your palms down your jeans.

“I never meant to ignore you. I’m sorry I did, but I would really like to be apart of her life,” he stated as he took your hands in his and you couldn’t find the heart to pull away, missing the physical attention he gave from time to time.

“It's not going to work.”

“(Y/N), please, she’s mine. I am her father. At least let me meet her.”

“No Negan. You’re not safe for her. The sanctuary isn't safe for her. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I miss you.”

“Your pity won’t work on me. I’m not weak anymore.” “You never were,” he admitted as you locked eyes with him, drawn in by his hypnotic gaze but quickly pulled away. Thinking for a minute, you sighed in defeat.

“If you want her in your life, here are some rules. Your Saviors leave us alone, if one of them comes near here that isn’t you, your privilege to see Sarah are gone, as well as your men. You can come by twice a month by yourself and you will be supervised by me. Under no circumstance is she going to the Sanctuary. Deal?” You rambled as he nodded before pulling you into his arms, wrapping around you tightly.

“Thank you. I really do miss you,” he whispered as you stood still before slowly melting in his hug, relishing the way his body heat covers you.

“I miss you too. Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t.” He replied before pulling away and getting in his car, driving away, leaving you to ponder all of your thoughts.

A/N OMG THIS IS SO LONG TOO

#negan #negan x ofc #negan x y/n #negan x reader #Female reader #reader insert #the saviors #the sanctuary #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead requests #the walking dead #anonymous #anon request #imagine #twd imagine #jeffrey dean morgan #reader

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

what if Jiang Cheng is the one in the arranged marriage with Jin Zixuan (maybe an au where birth order matters more than gender?)

ao3

“Well, no one cares what you think!” Jin Zixun shouted, and Jin Zixuan flinched, already knowing that this was going to end in disaster. His older cousin – his father’s favorite of the lot – was mean at the best of times, and when he was angry, he was especially cruel. A kid like Jiang Cheng, barely nine, wouldn’t be able to deal with him. “You’ll never made anything of yourself, anyway; the best thing you’ll ever be is A-Xuan’s wife!”

That was worse, somehow, than Jin Zixuan had thought it would be. Maybe because his name was invoked – maybe because Jiang Cheng looked as though he’d been slapped in the face, his eyes filling with unshed tears, and when his fist found its way to Jin Zixun’s face a moment later, Jin Zixuan thought that it was completely deserved.

Afterwards, when they’d all split off their own ways, he went to find Jiang Cheng.

He didn’t need to, he knew, but – he’d liked Jiang Cheng, at least a little.

He was the same age as Jin Zixuan, a little boy like him, even if he was the second child and not the heir the way Jin Zixuan was. He’d been laughing about something when Jin Zixuan first saw him, something whispered to him by his older sister, a plain girl recognizable only by her Jiang sect colors, but he’d straightened up the second he’d seen them walking into the room, putting on a serious expression, and Jin Zixuan had suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of oh you have to deal with this too that he’d never felt before in his life.

All of his so-called friends thought it was great to be the son of the sect leader, but they didn’t have to go to the terrible parties and stand there being shown off to people all night; they actually complained that they didn’t get to go.

He didn’t think Jiang Cheng would complain like that.

Maybe they could be friends, he thought, hopefully. Real friends, not pretend; friends that stayed together because they liked each other and not because their parents needed a political connection –

And then, less than a shichen after they’d been ushered off to go play together by adults who had better things to be doing, Jin Zixun’d managed to ruin everything. Again.

It didn’t take long to find Jiang Cheng.

They’re in Jinlin Tower, which meant that there weren’t many places Jiang Cheng could go that Jin Zixuan couldn’t find him – not like the Lotus Pier, which was an impassable maze even in the guest quarters that they’d taken special care to try to make nice and orderly for the one time they’d tried unsuccessfully to visit – and it turned out he hadn’t gone all that far, just ducked into a nearby guest room that was tidied up even though no one used it.

Jiang Cheng was curled up next to a window, his whole body looking especially small. He wasn’t even looking out of it, but he still gave off the impression of being on the verge of jumping out, or even just that he’d be blown away by the wind.

He wasn’t actually all that small – maybe a bit short for a nine-year-old, maybe a bit more slender, but his father and mother were both tall and that meant he probably would be, too, given time.

“You shouldn’t listen to Zixun,” Jin Zixuan said, and Jiang Cheng looked at him, red-eyed. “He’s dumb. All he ever does is say mean things, and they’re never true.”

“S’true, though, isn’t it?” Jiang Cheng said. “I’m the one that has to marry in, ‘cause I’m second, not first. I’ve got to leave Lotus Pier, go to Jinlin Tower…”

Marry you. Be the official wife. Smile and bear it and host your parties while you’re off fucking someone else – multiple someones – to get kids for the inheritance. Never have children of my own, but instead be stuck raising your bastards for you…

Jiang Cheng didn’t say any of that, of course, but Jin Zixuan knew.

After all, he’d overheard his mother and her friend – former friend – fighting over it. Madame Yu wanted to break the engagement when it turned out that the girl had come first and the boy second, since her husband was refusing to flip the order and marry Jiang Yanli out instead, and his mother had refused, the lure of the Yunmeng Jiang’s power more potent than their old friendship.

Caustic words had been said. Words he probably should have been too young to understand, words that maybe Jiang Cheng didn’t get yet, but…well.

His mother had always been very clear about all the things she hated about her life.

And now she was going to force the same life onto someone else.

“I don’t think my parents would agree to let me be the one to marry in,” he said, almost wishing he could. Sure, then he’d have to be the one living his mother’s horrible life, but at least there was something familiar about that type of suffering – he’d spent his whole life hearing about it, after all, hearing about it over and over and over again until it almost felt like he’d lived it himself.

He thought he could bear up with living that terrible life.

He wasn’t so sure he could bear up with being the one to cause it.

Jiang Cheng snorted. “Why would you want to?” He squinted up at him. “Aren’t you going to tell me that Jinlin Tower is great and I shouldn’t worry because being your wife will be great, too, or something like that?”

“I have no idea if being my wife is great,” Jin Zixuan said blankly, out of lack of anything better to say. He probably should have said something like that. “I’ve never had one before.”

They looked at each other for a moment, and then for some reason they both started sniggering uncontrollably.

“Of course you don’t have a wife, you’re nine,” Jiang Cheng said, giggling. “Even I know that nine year olds don’t have wives! And anyway, if you did, it’d be me, wouldn’t it? It’s not like they’re just, I dunno, handing out practice wives.”

“I wish they’d hand out practice wives,” Jin Zixuan confessed, covering his eyes. “That way I could be sure I wouldn’t…you know…”

“Screw up?”

“Yeah.”

Was Jiang Cheng going to judge him? Should Jin Zixuan have kept that to himself, pretended that everything was under control…?

But Jiang Cheng was nodding. “I wish they made practice everything,” he said emphatically, and Jin Zixuan drooped in relief, coming to sit on the floor next to Jiang Cheng. He wasn’t actually allowed to sit on floors, not even clean ones, but he was also supposed to be hosting Jiang Cheng, so if anyone asked that was going to be his excuse. “It’s so hard to get things right on the first try.”

“No one gets things right on the first try,” Jin Zixuan said.

“Wei Wuxian does,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Who’s he?”

“He’s my shixiong,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s – kind of complicated. His parents were friends with my dad, before they died.”

- well at least I managed to keep my husband from bringing home a bastard!

Right. That kind of complicated.

His mother always told him he had to be the most careful around bastards – that they would be smart and pretend to be nice, try to get him to like them, while in reality they’d be scheming against him in the dark, maybe even try to kill him, so they could get what he had and they didn’t. Jin Zixuan figured the same had to be true for Jiang Cheng, and he felt sorry for him.

“Well, you seem good enough to me,” he said firmly. “When you’re my wife, I’ll treat you right.”

He would, too. He wouldn’t go around with other women, wouldn’t come home smelling of them, wouldn’t rub what he was doing in Jiang Cheng’s face and laugh until Jiang Cheng lost his cool and started throwing things – of course, there was always the question of the inheritance, but maybe when he had to find himself a woman, he could try to find Jiang Cheng a woman of his own, too, someone he liked, and those children could be surnamed Jiang.

Maybe they could find one they both liked and share.

“I don’t know what’s so bad about being ‘just’ someone’s wife, anyway,” Jin Zixuan added. “I mean, my mom’s the scariest person I know, except maybe for your mom, and they’re both wives.”

Jiang Cheng grinned. “Yeah, that’s right. Next time that big old bully says anything, I’ll tell him to repeat that where my mom can hear it, see what he does then…uh, no offense about the bully thing. I know he’s your cousin.”

“I don’t like him either,” Jin Zixuan admitted.

“Then you’ve got good taste,” Jiang Cheng said, and Jin Zixuan preened. His first ever compliment from his wife!

“I know we’re only hanging out together because our parents said we had to,” Jin Zixuan said, suddenly feeling brave. “But maybe we could…maybe…”

“Be friends?”

He nodded.

Jiang Cheng thought about it, crinkling his nose as he did. Jin Zixuan waited patiently.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng finally decided. “But only if you help me prank Jin Zixun to get back at him.”

“Deal!” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, then hesitated. “I’ve never pranked anyone before, though…”

“I’ll teach you!” Jiang Cheng scrambled to his feet, then stopped as if struck by a sudden thought. “Do you like dogs?”

“Dogs?” Jin Zixuan repeated blankly. “They’re well enough, I guess…you have three, right?”

He’d seen glimpses of them when he’d visited the Lotus Pier last year, when they were supposed to have first met except Jiang Cheng got sick with a stomach illness right before their visit, throwing up and everything, and Jin Zixuan’s mom had refused to let him anywhere near him.

Jiang Cheng scowled, and suddenly his eyes were welling up with tears again, causing Jin Zixuan to panic again even though he was pretty sure it wasn’t his fault this time.

“I used to,” Jiang Cheng muttered. “But Wei Wuxian’s scared of dogs, so my father had them sent away. I was just thinking…never mind. It was stupid.”

Jin Zixuan bit his lip. It wasn’t a good sign that Jiang Cheng’s father was already favoring his bastard over his son, not at all, not when fathers had all the power in the cultivation world. Not when even his mother, proud and fierce and famous for cowing his father with thrown pottery and fits of temper, was in the end helpless to stop him – she couldn’t make him stop humiliating her, couldn’t make him stop going out and having all those bastards. She stopped him from bringing them home, but she couldn’t stop him where it mattered, because all he had to do was threaten to make one of them the heir instead of Jin Zixuan.

He wouldn’t, because he needed her maternal family’s support, but he could.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair to his mother, it wasn’t fair to Jin Zixuan, and it wasn’t fair to Jiang Cheng, either. And it especially wasn’t fair that he was already being replaced – and just when Jin Zixuan was starting to feel better about the marriage, too!

The whole arranged marriage deal didn’t seem so bad if it was going to be with Jiang Cheng, who seemed pretty nice. Jin Zixuan didn’t want to have to start all over again with another boy, especially not a bastard.

“If you know where they are, you could send your dogs here to live with me,” Jin Zixuan suggested, feeling suddenly spontaneous in a way he almost never did, and Jiang Cheng turned to him with wide eyes. “That way you’d have a reason to come visit a lot, and your father could see that we were getting along.”

It would remind Sect Leader Jiang that their marriage could be broken by either side at any time, if they were unhappy – show him that they were committed, that they wouldn’t accept inferior goods in Lanling. Maybe it could help convince him to keep Jiang Cheng and his mother instead of swapping them out.

“I was just thinking I could introduce you, but that’s even better!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, looking excited. “You’re serious?”

“Sure,” Jin Zixuan said. He had an entire palace of his own back in Jinlin Tower, full of rooms he never used meant to host as guests all the friends he didn’t have. They could put the dogs in some of those, hire someone to take care of them – feed them, walk them, brush them, whatever needed to be done for dogs. If there was one thing Jinlin Tower didn’t lack, it was servants to do things. “But you have to come visit them. Without bringing Wei Wuxian.”

That way, even if this Wei Wuxian person used his bastard tricks to pull the wool over Jiang Cheng’s eyes to make him think that they were friends even as he stole away Jiang Cheng’s birthright in secret - Jin Zixuan’s mother had warned him - there’d still be a way to show how important it was to keep Jiang Cheng as the legitimate son. They might have just met, but it was pretty clear to Jin Zixuan already that Jiang Cheng was way too friendly and nice to know how to properly guard himself – someone would have to do the work for him.

And who else, if not his husband?

“Don’t worry about Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said. “He won’t go anywhere if he thinks there’ll be dogs. You’ll really do it?”

“I’ll talk to my parents,” Jin Zixuan promised – he was only nine, there were limits to what he could actually do – but Jiang Cheng seemed to think that was enough. He smiled at him, and Jin Zixuan smiled back.

Maybe this could work out.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #jin zixuan #my fic #my fics #okay it's not JZX and his two brides #but it was in the queue so I moved it up #Anonymous

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blossomingimagines · 4 years

Text

Icarus

Harley Quinn x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,703

Summary: Like Icarus she had flown too close to the sun and fell-- though you were certain the fall Icarus suffered from wasn't a descent into madness. It was unfortunate that she had always been your own sun. Always pulling you in no matter how far you may go to escape. You just hope you won't get too close this time. As you were sure this fall would be the greatest of all.

Notes: I saw this idea floating about and decided to give it a try. Hopefully it isn't too disappointing for you all. This is going to be left open-ended in case you all want more in this universe, which I don't know if you will. (You knew Harley Quinn before she was Harley Quinn. You were rivals, in whatever capacity, and she always beat you. Until suddenly you were her therapist at Arkham.)

I also got the idea from @kiraimagine. (Wanted to give credit where credit is due as this idea was a really good one and I enjoyed writing it.)

Warnings: Mental illnesses as depicted in Arkham.

The tale of Icarus was one that you were familiar with. How he had dreamed of something for his entire life and that had ended up being his downfall. Flying too close to the sun, despite the many warnings beforehand, and his plummet back to Earth. It was a tale that you associated with personally. For you were Icarus-- wanting something so bad that you would do anything to achieve it. No matter how far you would fall because of it.

Harleen Quinzel was your sun.

You had known her for most of your life. Meeting on the playground at the start of fifth grade-- you had tripped over something and ended up sprawled in front of her and her friends. Her golden-white locks pulled back into a loose ponytail as she stood above you. Her blue eyes mocking as she took in your expression. You had scrambled to your feet with fumbling apologies escaping your mouth. Your face became as red as the shirt she had been wearing. Despite your efforts, however pathetic they may have been, she had barely given you a second glance before walking away. Her ever-loyal posse following along like lap dogs. And, even as you turned to head back towards your friends, you couldn’t get her bright blue eyes out of your head. Making you feel like you were falling all over again.

From then on a rivalry was born between the two of you-- whether you were aware of it or not. You were a person that wasn’t even in the same galaxy as her radar and suddenly you became the direct center of it. Whatever things you took interest in, Harleen always followed. Of course, it always looked like a complete coincidence that she ended up taking the same courses as you. Always excelling at everything she put her mind to-- you in a close second.

Even as you aged, going from knobby-kneed kids to maturing teenagers, Harleen had made it her mission in life to always one-up you. To always make sure that she was around no matter what. The first day of your sophomore year had been a clear indicator of that fact.

The crowded hallways of Gotham High were roaring with life. From incoming freshmen that were trying to get their bearings to returning seniors that were establishing their claim as the rulers of the school. You just rolled your eyes at all the showboating that was going on as you made your way to your locker. A hand clutching on your bag as you were jostled for the millionth time by a football player.

Finally catching sight of your locker was like a breath of fresh air. A small sliver of sanctuary that you needed within the bustling halls. However, as quickly as the happy feeling appeared it vanished without a trace at the sight of the woman leaning against the locker adjacent to yours.

Harleen Quinzel-- in all her glory.

Light blonde hair falling loosely past her shoulders. Painted lips pulled into a smirk as she listened to the jock standing before her. Though you could clearly tell she wasn’t actually listening. As her, normally sharp blue eyes were dull at the incessant rambling of the boy.

Hoping that you could quickly open your locker and deposit everything before she noticed, you slowly made your way towards them. Seeing that she was still distracted by the jock, you felt a small smile tug at your lips. Glad that at least something was going your way today.

You shouldn’t have celebrated so early.

The moment you made contact with your lock a perfectly manicured hand appeared on top of yours. Your heart-stopping at the feeling of her smooth skin on yours. Your wide eyes meeting her devious blue as she smirked at you. Numbly you noted that they were once again the sparkling blue that you were so familiar with. Though you couldn’t find it within yourself to celebrate the fact. Not when she was leaning towards you ever-so-slightly.

“Y/N,” she purrs. “I was wondering when you were going to show up. The school is not the same with my best girl gone.”

For a moment you actually think she cared for your wellbeing, but the glimmer in her eyes made you think otherwise. Your lips thin into a line as your annoyance grows. You didn’t think you had the patience to deal with her today.

“What do you want, Harleen?”

A faux look of hurt flashed across her face. “I’m wounded that you think I need something from you, Y/N.” Her other hand rubs your arm-- you try to desperately ignore the goosebumps that appeared because of the action. Though you were certain she was aware of it-- if the look on her face was anything to go by. “I was just wondering if you knew that we were both in the same AP classes?”

Your stomach drops at the news. Her devious smile only causes your nerves to fray even more. “How? I changed my schedule three times.”

Harleen shrugs. “Looks like it was a match made in heaven.”

You shake your head with a frown starting to furrow your brow. “No, I know you did something. There’s no way we accidentally ended up in the same classes again.” Your annoyed gaze meets her amused one. “Why? Why do you like doing this to me? Don’t you have better things to do?”

At your questions, her smile falls from her lips. A sharp look flashing across her face as she leaned closer to you-- almost to the point of her nose brushing against yours. You wanted to take a step back but the hand on your bicep stopped you. You had never seen Harleen look so angry before. Even if she wasn’t completely showing you everything she was feeling. You could tell by the darkening of her eyes-- an almost desperate quality hiding underneath.

“I think you know exactly why I do what I do,” she hisses. “You just refuse to see what’s standing right in front of you. You choose to be blind to everything.”

Her voice elevates slightly towards the end of her sentence. An almost shrill quality to her tone that you had never heard before. It causes a small wince to flash across your face. Your eyes glancing towards the other occupants of the hallway. You didn’t want anyone to be listening in on this… whatever this was.

Harleen, noticing where your attention had diverted to, seems to pull herself together as she takes a step back from you. Her hand finally releasing your bicep out of the death grip she had imprisoned it in. Though the same darkened expression in her eyes remained even as she smiled at you.

“But that’s no matter,” she continues in a calmer tone. As if her outburst had never happened. “Just know that until you realize what you’ve been blind to I’ll always be here.” Harleen inclines her head ever-so-slightly towards you, her voice dropping into a whisper. “Nothing will ever be better than that.”

Then she was gone.

Only leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and the confused feeling in your very soul.

Even now you still had no idea what she had meant. High school passed you by in the same manner as your other school years. In a standoff with Harleen Quinzel for the top student position, which she won by barely a point. Not that you were too surprised she beat you at that too. No matter how egotistical she may be, you could admit that she was highly intelligent. In another life, you could even see yourself being friends with her. If only life had turned out slightly differently for you both…

College seemed to be the only reprieve you were ever going to get from her. So you were excited to apply to as many as you could. Wanting to have as many options to choose from as possible. Anything to minimize the chance of Harleen choosing the same one-- even if deep in your heart you wanted nothing more than for her to do just that.

Learning at graduation that she was going to Metropolis for school had been a shock. As you had been deliberating going there as well. That was before your mother got sick and you decided to stay in Gotham, however. A fact that you didn’t think twice about sharing with Harleen.

Sometimes you look back at the night and curse yourself for opening your mouth.

The party was already in full swing as you stepped into the house. Loud music blaring through the speakers. The sound waves caused the very house to shake. It was lucky that the host of the party lived so far away from anyone else. It wouldn’t do to have the party shut down by what was left of Gotham’s police force. Moving deeper into the party, you bypass throngs of people dancing to the beat of the song and random couples that were lost in each other. Your eyes scan the room for a quieter place that you could just rest in until the rest of your friends arrived.

Thankfully, the search didn’t take that long as you quickly found a relatively abandoned corner. You gratefully lean against a wall once you reach it. Thankful that you had been able to find a spot that you could hide away in. As the party scene had never been a place you thrived in. Rolling your neck, you try to get rid of some of the tension that had settled over your shoulders from the past few days. Things at home were only getting more complicated but you know you made the right decision in deciding to stay. Even if Metropolis would have been a hell of a lot nicer than Gotham.

Movement from in front of you causes your eyes to widen as a solo cup is thrust into your hands. The flimsy plastic bending in your hands as you stared at the woman who had given it to you. Your mouth pressing into a thin line at the sight of her devious smirk.

Harleen Quinzel, of course.

“I’m really not in the mood right now, Harleen,” you sigh. “Why don’t you go hang out with your friends and leave me alone?”

Harleen pouts. “But you’re my best girl, Y/N. Why would I leave you all alone?”

“Because your friends are probably looking for you.” You try to offer in hopes that she would just leave you alone. You didn’t feel like hearing her gloat about getting the valedictorian spot. Her laughter was not the response you were expecting, however.

“Oh, Y/N/N, what am I going to do with you?” She asks but you’re sure it was rhetorical. Though at your continued silence her eyes flash with annoyance. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

You sigh, Harleen and her mind games were not what you signed up for when you agreed to come to the party. “I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be getting, Harleen. Maybe if you actually told me then I might.”

She grins at you. “Now where’s the fun in that?” Her head tilts ever-so-slightly as she appraises you. As if she suddenly realized that you were wearing a low-cut dress-- courtesy of your best friend. Her blue eyes shone with varying emotions that you couldn’t even begin to decipher. Though they soon snapped back up to your face as if she suddenly realized something. “But that doesn’t matter really. I’m certain you’ll figure it out when we’re in college.”

Her words make your stomach drop. “What?”

“When we’re in college, Y/N.” Harleen drawls. “You know the place where we’re going to be going for the next four years?”

“What do you mean we?”

Her laughter, once again, catches you off guard. “Didn’t you know? We’re going to be going to the same college. I heard through the grapevine that we both got accepted to Metropolis University. Go Sharks.”

You frown, your next words coming out before you could even think. “But I’m not going to Metropolis University.”

Harleen completely freezes at that. Her eyes turn razor-sharp as the smile falls from her face. “What?”

You gulp. “I’m not going to Metropolis University, Harleen. I was but then some personal issues came up so I’ve decided to stay in Gotham.” You shrug with a rueful smile pulling at your lips. “I’m going to Gotham University. So it looks like I’m going to be a Nighthawk and you’re going to be a Shark.”

The smile falls from your face, however, at the look, Harleen gives you because of the joke. Her expression darkened even more as each second ticked by. Only the call of her name from her friends pulled her attention from you-- though she seemed more annoyed at the interruption. Thinking about the quickest escape routes you could take, to hell with your friends, you begin to shift away from the wall. Only to have Harleen suddenly grab both of your forearms and yank you towards her. Your face almost smashed against hers as she held you. Her voice coming out in a low whisper.

“We’ll see about that.”

Before you could react, her lips pressed against yours in a brief kiss before she was gone.

Only the scent of her perfume and the feel of her on your lips remaining.

You hadn’t been surprised that come fall she had appeared in your lecture hall. Her ever-present smirk flashing towards you as she took her seat a few rows in front of you. You weren’t even surprised that she had taken the same major as you. After all, you both had always been eerily similar in your interests in that regard.

Sometimes you wish you had chosen something else.

Anything else.

That’s all that could run through your mind as you made your way down darkened halls. Your heels clicking against the floor with a resounding presence that almost made you wince. The faint moans of the criminally insane echo from deeper recesses in the building. You try to not tense at the sounds. Your armed escort led you down various halls and security checkpoints before you finally reached your destination.

A door, plain as all the others, stood between you and the reason you had returned to Gotham. You didn’t want to, God did you not want to, but getting a call from Mayor Hill had changed things. You had met the man on several occasions and you had never even considered the possibility of him begging anyone. Hearing the desperate plea within his words flashed you back to a time when your mother was still alive. When there wasn’t a giant bat protecting the streets of Gotham. You hadn’t had the heart to decline.

Even if you wish you had now.

Turning to one of the guards stationed at the door, you nod. Steeling yourself for what you are about to witness. Your back straightened as your hands tightened on the various files you were holding. Your resolve only wavering as you stepped into the room. Your eyes take in the large abundance of space that surrounds the single cage in the direct center of the room. A single figure entwined with silk in the middle of it.

Moving down the staircase, you try to ignore the way the figure's burning gaze followed you. The intensity behind it is both so familiar and completely foreign. Standing directly before the cage, you finally are close enough to the figure to see the way burning blue eyes took in every small aspect of you. A familiar smirk began to make its way onto her face when she finally met your gaze with hers.

“There’s my best girl.” A grin takes the place of her smirk. A sight that causes your heart to lurch in your chest. Yet another reminder of why you didn’t want to come back to Gotham. Why you never wanted to return to the place that had taken everything from you. “I was wondering when you were going to visit me.”

“Hello, Harleen.”

#harley quinn x reader #harley x reader #dc imagines #suicide squad imagines #dc #icarus #harleen quinzel imagine #harleen quinzel #harley quinn imagine #reader insert

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sassyhobbits · 4 years

Note

Could you please write post Kingdom of Ash fic where Aelin has to go back to Doranelle with Rowan on important business or something and she deals with her trauma going back/ meets Rowans family/ Rowan repairs his relationship with his cousins? Pretty please 🥺

loved this idea and had so much fun writing it!! combined with the modified prompt of “living is so much harder than dying. are you sure youre fit for living?”

here’s day 5 everyone!!

~~~

It had been three years since Aelin Galathynius had stepped foot in the City of Rivers.

Her first two visits to Doranelle had been… less than pleasant, to say the least. Most sane people who had gone through what Aelin had would never get within a hundred miles of the city. But, Aelin had never been one to allow a shitty experience or two keep her away.

In the three years since the end of the war, Terrasen had slowly been rebuilt. Aelin had gotten used to her role as queen, had gotten used to peace. Although it had been hard and strenuous work, it was worth it. Every struggle and late night, argument with lords and advisors, had led to happiness for her people. Aelin would do just about anything for them.

Part of being queen, Aelin had quickly learned, was responding to correspondences from other kingdoms. Sometimes, they weren’t all that bad. She liked to write to Dorian, enjoyed the sporadic letters she received from Manon. But there were plenty of others that were less fun. Taxes, proposals, budgeting.

But, a few weeks ago, she received a letter from Rowan’s cousin, Sellene, the new Queen of Doranelle. She invited both Aelin and her husband for a diplomatic visit to her lands.

“Are you sure about this, Fireheart?” Rowan had murmured to her one night, curled up in his arms in bed. “You don’t have to go.”

Aelin understood his concern. The last time she had been to Doranelle, she had been beaten and bruised within an inch of her life, patched back together, only to go through the process again the next day. Maeve had certainly done a number on her. But Aelin would be damned if she let the bitch get the last laugh.

“I want to go, Ro,” Aelin assured him. “I want to see where you grew up, get to know your family better.”

I need to go, is what she didn’t have to say, but knew Rowan understood. Aelin had conquered many of her fears in the years since the war, but there were still nights she woke up screaming, still nights when it was impossible to tell the difference between the darkness of night and the darkness of the iron coffin.

She needed to go back to the place where she had been brought down to her lowest. Needed to prove that she was strong, and that she had triumphed.

And so it was decided. The queen and king consort would sail east.

They stayed a week in Wendlyn with Aelin’s cousin, Galan. Since he had sailed to her aid during the war, they had formed a closer friendship. It was good to see him, to see the kingdom from which her mother hailed.

From there, they traveled by carriage to Doranelle.

“Much nicer than the first time we made this journey,” Aelin remarked one afternoon from the comfort of their carriage, resting her head against Rowan’s shoulder.

“You certainly smell better.”

Rowan earned himself a slug on the shoulder for that little comment.

They passed into the City of Rivers discreetly, not truly wanting to deal with a huge welcoming party. Aelin convinced Rowan to take a day to themselves, for her husband to show her the city itself. The beautiful, simple lives of the citizens of Doranelle. How Rowan had grown up.

It was a perfect day. Aelin loved seeing Doranelle in all its glory. It was truly a work of art, unlike anything she had ever witnessed in her years traipsing the continent. They wore hoods despite the mild, spring weather, the both of them far too recognizable now to move freely without some sort of disguise. It brought her back to the days of being Adarlan’s Assassin.

Rowan brought her to some of his favorite places growing up, showed her a block that sold the traditional street foods of Doranelle for lunch. He bought her some sweets and took her to a lovely park, where they lounged under the shade, just talking and sharing kisses. He took her to a nice restaurant for dinner, snagging a private back room for just the two of them. It was all perfect.

And then the next day, they woke and readied themselves to head to the palace. Aelin managed to wrangle her husband into something nice, though he protested it on the basis of it just being his cousins. She wouldn’t hear of it.

That first day in Doranelle, exploring the streets as nothing more than another citizen, Aelin had been nothing but content and relaxed… but the first sight of that wide, curving bridge that would lead them to the palace had her heart beating just a little bit faster.

She remembered the last time she had crossed this bridge beside Rowan. She had still been going by Celaena then, freshly nineteen, just stepping into her power and her status. Terrified, though she never would have admitted it then. She had already been falling in love with Rowan, and her newly healed heart certainly wouldn’t have survived losing him.

She knew Rowan noticed the small change in her demeanor, feeling him squeeze her hand comfortingly.

They were greeted by Sellene, who was just as elegant and beautiful as Aelin remembered. It was clear she had stepped into her role as ruler with dignity and grace. She embraced Aelin like she was an old friend, making her feel truly welcome.

They were shown to their rooms, given time to settle in and refresh themselves before they would meet in court before dinner.

Their quarters were lovely: bright, open, and airy. The glassless windows allowed for the sweet spring breeze to blow into their room. There was a large bath that Aelin had full intentions of making use of that evening. Hopefully with Rowan. He wouldn’t need much convincing.

Some of Sellene’s ladies came in to help Aelin prepare, making sure her hair was thoroughly brushed and gleaming, twisted up in perfection before placing her crown on top. Her gown was a lovely piece of Terrasen green and intricate silver embroidery.

By the time they were both ready, they made quite a pair. Striking, indeed. Aelin made sure she complimented her husband thoroughly as they made the short trip from their chambers to the throne room.

It managed to distract both Rowan and herself. She barely took in the halls they walked through, some of it twinging deep recesses in her memory, like some sort of dream. But, she forced herself to focus on Rowan, the man she loved, lest the memories get the better of her.

The next thing she knew, they were being announced as they strolled leisurely through the crowded throne room. Fae nobility bowed and curtsied as they walked by, sending them wide, broad grins.

The throne room was so different than Aelin had remembered it. When it had been Maeve perched on that throne, it had been cold and quiet. It had somehow always felt like a trap. But, with Sellene as queen, it was bright and full of life. Music played, people laughed and smiled. It was… good.

A half hour passed by busily. Aelin was introduced to some of Sellene’s courtiers, reintroduced to Rowan’s other cousins. People gave her their thanks, commended her hard work and sacrifice during the war.

It was hectic enough at the beginning to keep her mind thoroughly occupied. Chatting and charming and laughing. It took a while before there was a lull in the conversation, when Aelin wasn’t listening to someone or speaking herself. But, it finally came.

Aelin took the rare moment of solitude to take in her surroundings. Rowan was across the room, talking with his uncle and cousin, Enda. He looked happy, relaxed. She loved it when he smiled.

She looked away from her husband, glancing around the room. Despite her better judgements, her gaze snagged on that throne. It almost looked non-threatening in the late afternoon sunlight, but her gut still twisted. Images of a pale woman with dark hair and a spider’s smile flashed to her mind unwillingly. She flinched, eyes screwing shut and willing the memories of Maeve away. She was successful at first, but not for long. Images and snippets of voices, of screams that she didn’t know came from herself or others, assaulted her all at once.

Aelin’s breathing sped up, her heart hammering beneath her ribs. She felt the phantom bite of broken glass in her knees, heard Maeve’s cruel laughs. She saw Fenrys, heard his cry when Connall spilled his own blood right there by the throne. It was so clean now. Like none of it had ever happened.

But no. That had been real. The other images Maeve had sent her weren’t but…

Suddenly, the airy throne room was too small, too packed. Aelin felt ill. She ducked her head down, slipping out as discreetly as she could manage. The moment she was sure she was out of view, she bunched up her skirts and ran.

Her body remembered the way down into the depths of the palace, though she had never navigated herself. It had left a mark on her soul. She would never forget.

The dungeons below the palace were a stark difference from the open, bright architecture above. It could have been a different world. It was just as dark and cold as Aelin remembered, as it was in her nightmares.

She wasn’t sure how, exactly, she knew which of the near identical, dismal cells had been hers but… she knew. She hesitated outside the door, amazed by just how ordinary it looked. Who would have guessed that she had been held and tortured behind that door for two months?

Aelin pressed her palm against the door, the magic left in her recoiling at the iron she sensed. These dungeons had been built to keep people with magic contained. They had been well designed.

She pushed into the room slowly, using her magic to light the torches lining the walls. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to find: a coffin, blood stains, iron chains waiting just for her. But… it was empty. Even the stone table she had been chained to while Cairn carved her up was gone.

Just… nothing.

Aelin wasn’t sure how long she stood there before she sensed a familiar presence behind her. She was wrapped in the familiar scent of pine and snow, Rowan’s warm body standing just behind her. He placed a broad hand on her shoulder. “I thought I’d find you here.”

A tiny smile curved her lips, though she didn’t bother looking back at her mate. “You know me well, husband.”

There were a few beats of silence. Aelin didn't have to be looking at Rowan to know he was carefully considering his next words. So, she did him a favor, and spoke first.

“There’s nothing here,” Aelin said simply, stating the obvious.

“No, there isn’t. Is that a bad thing?”

A tiny shrug. “I don’t know. Yes? No?” Aelin hung her head in defeat, covering Rowan’s hand with her own. “Sometimes, it's hard to believe it all really happened. Without the scars, without the coffin… it just seems like something I dreamed up. I know I didn’t but…”

“But what, Fireheart?”

Her eyes burned with tears, throat tightening. “It would be… comforting, I suppose, to know that the experience left its mark somewhere else than in my head. It was terrifying and hopeless but I don’t want to forget it happened.”

Rowan stepped closer, her back pressed against his chest. He wrapped his strong arms around her securely, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. “I think you know that what happened doesn't only still affect you. I don’t think Lorcan will ever fully forgive himself for summoning Maeve to the beach that day, I don’t think Aedion will ever stop feeling guilty that he hadn’t been there for you when you needed him. And I…”

He trailed off, but Aelin knew Rowan better than she knew herself. She knew his fears, his regrets, his insecurities. Just as Aelin awoke some nights thinking she was back in that coffin, Rowan would wake thinking she was gone. Those nights, he would wrap her tightly in his arms and wouldn’t let go until the sunrise, as if she’d disappear with the morning dew.

She gave a meek nod. “You’re right.”

They stood in silence for a bit longer, stealing strength from one another. After a period of silence, Aelin spoke again.

“I thought it’d be easier by now,” she commented. “I spent most of my life struggling to survive, trying not to die in one way or another. It’s been three years of peace. I know three years is nothing to you and will eventually be nothing to me too but… when does life get easier?”

Rowan didn’t answer right away. “Living, Aelin, is so much harder than dying.”

She sighed and nodded. “You’re right. But when have I ever not stepped up to a challenge?” She looked up at Rowan and smiled cockily. He gave a breathy laugh and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“You’ve already conquered death, Aelin Galathynius,” he said. “I have no doubts you’ll conquer life just as easily.”

#rowaelin #my writing #i rlly enjoyed writing this one #tog

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