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smilesrobotlover · 2 months

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Warning, this is a pretty dark one towards the end. A lil spooky if you will

Chapter 5- Something’s in Faron Woods

Zelda was exhausted. With the new problem of disappearances, her workload doubled. She was getting several letters from people claiming that they knew who was causing these disappearances, or people who claimed that they got caught and escaped. She was then dealing with the economy of Hyrule, then their relationship with Labrynna, then schoolwork for her daughter, and then trying to provide for the army. She’d barely gotten any sleep, but she supposed it would be fine. She’s had sleepless nights before, this would be no different.

She was eternally grateful for the resistance’s help, since she couldn’t do much on her own with the disappearances. She sent Ashei and Shad to help Hoz on his investigation, she requested Auru to ask around since he couldn’t do much in his old age, and she sent Rusl and Link to investigate Kakariko, knowing that Link’s wolf abilities would be useful. And she requested this all under her alter ego: Sheik.

She remembers when she first disguised herself as Sheik and went to help the resistance. They were dealing with straggling Bulblins who rebelled against their king. Sheik showed up to assist, and the resistance were rightfully distrusting towards her. It was difficult since Sheik wasn’t exactly a bubbly and kind person, but after a few years with her giving them correct information on situations, they started to trust her more, and she was grateful for that. It was nice doing more for Hyrule that she wouldn’t be able to do as queen, but it had made her twice as busy, and she almost had no time to do anything. Even spending time with her own daughter was severely limited, and even though she wished she could do more with her, she just didn’t have time. And she wasn’t willing to give some of her workload to Edmund.

They’d known each other since they were kids. her father was attempting to have an alliance with Labrynna and they saw each other often. They had a good enough relationship then, Edmund was very polite and kind, and even when they reunited he still was, but she couldn’t bring herself to trust him. He was never outwardly terrible, but she knew that if she gave him even an ounce of power, he would take it all and control Hyrule. She’d seen it with her father, she’d seen it with Zant, and she’d seen it with Ganondorf. All kings taking power from queens, why would Edmund be any different?

Despite her refusal to let him help her, she was exhausted, and sometimes she wished she could get help, but until she found more people she could trust, she would have to make do. Of course, it wasn’t easy to hide how she was feeling from everyone, and when she nearly fell asleep during a boring meeting, they all grew concerned for her well-being.

“My queen?” The representative for the Zora spoke up when she nearly fell over on the table, and she rubbed her face, sitting up straight.

“I’m alright,” she said quickly, and she glanced over at Edmund who stared at her with his brows pinched together.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, just a little tired is all, we all get like that,” she waved their concerns away and looked down at the papers in front of her. She honestly didn’t remember what was being discussed, but she quickly skimmed over the details and caught up as much as she could. As soon as the meeting was over, she got up and left, with Edmund trailing behind her.

“Zelda?” He called out for her, and she groaned, turning around to look at him.

“Yes?”

Edmund let out a huff and put his hands on his hips. “What have you been doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You look awful. You’re rarely eating, I hardly ever see you, and you’re never in bed when you’re supposed to be.”

“Maybe I don’t want to sleep with you,” she said coldly, but instantly regretted it. That was an inappropriate thing to say, and a hurt expression flickered across Edmund’s face. He looked away and ran a hand through his hair, frustration apparent in his face.

“Goddesses, Zelda. I— I didn’t want this arranged marriage either, but I’m trying to make it work for our kingdom’s sakes! It’s been ten years, why can’t you do the same?”

Zelda faced him fully and looked down, biting her lip. “I… I apologize for that comment, Edmund. It was rude of me.”

Edmund’s glare softened slightly. “So, what’s going on? Is it the disappearances?”

Zelda pursed her lips. “It’s fine Edmund–”

“No, it’s not fine. You’re clearly overworking yourself.”

Zelda turned away and let out a frustrated sigh, spotting the nobles and representatives getting closer to them. She grabbed Edmund’s arm and led him away to somewhere more private.

“It’s fine Edmund,” she reassured when they were tucked away in a corner, “these disappearances have been a lot of work to deal with, but it will pass. Besides, I have help from friends and Hoz to get to the bottom of this.”

Edmund stared at her for a moment, his brow pinched together. “Ok, so you have help,” he finally said after a moment of contemplation, “why don’t you let me handle the next meeting so you can… I don’t know… get some rest.”

Zelda’s heart spiked and she shook her head. “No, I do not need help.”

“Oh, so you’ll get help from Hoz and friends that I’ve never heard of before, but not from me, your husband?” Edmund’s voice raised a little, and Zelda sucked in a breath.

“It’s not your responsibility—“

“Yes it is! We’re supposed to have a partnership! We’re supposed to work together to keep our kingdom allies! That is why we got married! Why can’t you trust me?”

“Maybe it’s because you have no respect for my kingdom! Maybe it’s because you berate and criticize my people and my army! Why would I let someone who hates my kingdom try to rule it?” Zelda snapped. Edmund stared at her, surprised at her angry tone. She always spoke in a controlled tone, never letting her anger get the best of her since it was improper. Zelda took a deep breath and quickly composed herself, not wanting to escalate the conversation anymore. “Edmund, can we discuss this later? I have a meeting to attend to.”

“That’s what you say everytime I try to talk to you about it,” Edmund scoffed.

“Well I don’t have time.”

Edmund was about to say something, but he glanced up behind Zelda and his glare softened.

“Amber!” He greeted, and Zelda turned around to see her daughter walking towards them.

“Hello, mother and father,” she said when she walked up to them, her hands clasped in front of her. “I finished my studies and I wanted to catch you when the meeting ended!”

Edmund gave Zelda a look and he relaxed his posture. “Well, you caught us in time, my dear.”

Amber grinned at Edmund and gave a small curtsy to Zelda. Zelda nodded her head and forced a smile. The two stared at each other awkwardly, and Zelda looked down.

“I’m glad to see you, Amber,” she finally said, and forced another smile. “I take it your studies are going well?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Right…”

Zelda looked away and Edmund sighed.

“Why don’t you tell your mother what you’ve been studying, Amber?” He encouraged, and Amber’s eyes lit up. Zelda cringed internally, wanting so badly to stay and listen to her daughter, but she simply had no time…

“Well, I’ve been studying the founding of Hyrule, and I find it quite fascinating! I read that Hylians descended from the sky and made land here, creating alliances with the many species already living here. I just can’t imagine living in the sky! I heard that they flew on birds! Big birds that they would ride on and–”

“Amber,” Zelda cut in, forcing another smile, “I think it’s wonderful that you’re interested in history. I have a meeting I must attend, but you continue on with your studies.”

Amber’s expression fell which made Zelda’s heart twist in pain, and she looked down. “Of course, mother, sorry to keep you.”

Zelda couldn’t force another smile, and she simply walked away, trying to ignore the guilt creeping up on her. Goddesses she wanted to stay, she wanted to stay and to talk with her daughter. She wanted to ignore the meetings and to actually rest her eyes. But she couldn’t, there was too much to do, and she didn’t have the time.

Zelda couldn’t help but glance at the two when she turned the corner. Amber was still facing away, but Edmund was staring at her, and where she expected anger, there was nothing but sadness in his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Link watched the field around him carefully, sticking closer to Rusl this time around. Kori was no longer riding with him, and was inside the cart playing with his new toy, meanwhile Colin sat behind him on Epona. Talo was riding his own horse on the other side of the cart, grateful to no longer be alone on the trip back home. Link was also glad that they were with Talo as well, learning more about the strange disappearances have gotten him nervous. Rusl tried to make sense of it all, explaining how the scent probably got messed up, but Link supposed he couldn’t truly understand how bizarre the whole thing was. The scent wasn’t replaced, nor was it lost, it just vanished. The fact that he didn’t know why this was happening, or where to continue looking, chilled him to the bone, and he was anxious to get back to Ordon and out of the open field. Colin picked up on his nervous energy, and he rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, Link?” His younger brother asked, and Link shrugged.

“I dunno, I just don’t like the open field,” he answered simply.

“I heard you and pa were investigating some disappearances, anything going on with that?”

Link sighed. “I don’t know, I tried to follow the missing people’s scent and I found nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing. The scent just ends. Pa thinks that the scent was replaced or lost but… I honestly don’t think that’s the case,” he ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a breath.

“What do you think the case is?”

“I’m not sure, the only explanation is that the people got taken to… a different world or something,” Link felt the heat creep up to his cheeks as he said it outloud. The idea of different worlds wasn’t far-fetched to him, the temple of time literally took him through time to when the temple stood tall and proud, and the twilight realm was a world he could never forget. But to get to these places were nearly impossible, especially the twilight realm, so the idea that these people somehow getting taken to anywhere like that was ridiculous to him. Colin only hummed.

“You sure they’re not dead?”

“I’m sure Colin, I would’ve smelled it. Once we get home I’m gonna try to look further into it.” By the goddesses he was not going to let something like this continue. He was the hero for Din’s sake, he still had a responsibility to Hyrule. Link glanced over at the carriage to see Kori and Rela poking their heads out from the carriage, smiling at the nature in front of them. A protective feeling surrounded him as he watched them. He was going to make sure that his family, especially Kori, were never going to experience a dangerous Hyrule ever again.

They reached Ordon when the sun began to set, and everyone let out a sigh of relief as they got off their steeds or out of the cart.

“By the goddesses, it’s nice not being attacked every five seconds in the field,” Talo commented, stretching his arms after he got off his horse. Beth and Colin cheered in response as Link led Epona to his home, patting her neck and giving her a treat. Kori ran up to him and patted Epona’s snout.

“Thanks for getting us here, girl!” He said, and Epona lowered her head to nuzzle his chest, which Kori giggled at. Link smiled at the two and left them alone together as he went to help Rusl with unloading the cart. The kids stayed back talking and playing with the horses while Link and Rusl went to their home. When they opened the door, Uli set down her sewing project from the couch and met them at the door in seconds.

“You’re home!” She cheered, and gave Rusl and Link a hug. Rusl chuckled and pecked her on the lips.

“Hello, darlin’,” he said when he pulled away, and the two smiled at each other for a moment.

“How was it? How’s Renado?” She asked as they pulled away to put their stuff down.

“It was fine,” Link answered, plopping down on the couch. “Renado seems pretty overwhelmed, but otherwise it was ok.”

“What did Kori get?”

“A stuffed cat he named Jasper,” Link answered, stretching his arms above his head. Uli tilted her head and crossed her arms.

“A stuffed cat? If I had known that he wanted a stuffed cat, I would’ve made him one!”

“Yeah, kids are weird like that,” Link said with a chuckle, rubbing his eyes. “The moment they see somethin’ they want at the store, they ask for it even though you can make it at home.”

“It’s more special from a shop!” Rusl chimed in, leaning near the fireplace. Uli raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Are you saying that if I made it, it wouldn’t be special?”

Rusl’s eyes went big and he turned away. “Of course not… that’s… you know what I meant!”

Uli gave a quick laugh. “I know what you meant darlin’, I’m just messing with you.” Rusl glared at her and she simply giggled teasingly at him. She turned to Link and her teasing manner dropped slightly. “Well, I heard you two were investigating some…. Disappearances,” she started, “were you able to find anything?”

Link looked at Rusl and shrugged. “Not really.”

“We didn’t find anything useful at least,” Rusl added quietly. Uli frowned.

“Are you going to continue investigating?”

“Well, I kinda have to. Kori wants everyone to return home safely for his birthday,” Link said with a small smile on his lips. Uli grinned and ruffled his hair.

“He’s a sweet boy. He reminds me of a certain someone.”

Link looked down bashfully and rolled his eyes as Uli began to dote on him. Kori was a sweet boy. So gentle and kind, despite being a little mischievous at times. He couldn’t take all the credit for it of course, or really any of it. Midna raised him by herself for his first two years of life, and even though she's not with them all the time, she’s impacted his life in more ways than one. Goddesses he missed her. He wanted to tell her everything about Kakariko, he wanted her advice, her comments, her support. He just wanted her here…

Uli clasped her hands together and sighed after a moment of silence. “Well, where are the kids?”

“Dealin’ with the horses. I think they’re a little stir crazy.”

Uli smiled and gestured at the fireplace. “I have some soup cooking if you wanna drag our little ones over here?”

The smell of the soup cooking above the fireplace hit his nostrils, and he wiped some drool that suddenly appeared on his chin. Uli let out a hearty laugh and ruffled his hair.

“I’ll go get them ma,” Link chuckled, slightly embarrassed, and jogged out the door to find Colin, Rela, and Kori.

The three were excited for the hot dinner when Link told them, and they quickly put their things away as the sun set behind the horizon. Kori wasted no time showing Jasper the cat to Uli, explaining the complex backstory he gave to the plush, and how it connected to Billy the goat’s backstory. Uli listened intently, and Link let out a laugh. He always talked her ear off, but she always listened. Link wondered if he was the same way when he was younger.

“So, I take it Midna didn’t go with you?” Uli asked when Kori finished his story. Link shook his head.

“No, she had other stuff she needed to do back home.”

“What does she do anyways?” Colin asked, his spoon full of soup inches away from his mouth. Link shrugged.

“Stuff.”

“You always say that,” he said, sipping the soup from the spoon. Link shrugged again.

“Y’all weren’t supposed to know about her existence anyways. If she wants to tell you what she does, then she will. It’s not my business to tell you.”

“Fair ‘nough.”

“Well,” Uli started, standing up, “I already ate, but I can dish up some food for the rest of you.”

“Nah, I got two strong arms, I can do it myself,” Rusl said with a smile, grabbing a bowl and hunching over the pot.

“Nonsense! You’ve been traveling all day,” Uli began to argue, and the couple began to fight over the soup. Colin and Link exchanged a look and smirked as Kori and Rela jogged over to the fireplace, trying to break up the battle for service between the two lovers. When Uli finally admitted defeat, Link got up to the pot to serve himself and Kori, smiling at his ma who returned to her sewing project. But as he began to walk across the room, he stopped, his ears twitching. There was a sound, it was distant, and out in the woods, but as it got closer, the sound became more apparent.

Screaming.

Soon it got loud enough for Uli to hear it too, and they both looked at each other in fear. Kori stared at the two, hearing it as well.

“What is that?” He asked, and the whole family grew quiet, hearing the sudden screaming. Rusl got up, grabbing his sword and gestured for Link to follow him.

“Stay here,” Rusl said to Colin and Uli, who were about to follow him. Uli walked towards the kids while Colin reluctantly stayed by the doorway, and the two swordsmen marched out of the house. As they got closer, Link was able to spot three figures huddled together. He recognized mayor Bo’s large frame next to Jaggle, who was consoling a hysterical Coro. Bo looked up as the two men got closer, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank the spirits,” he said, stepping away. “I was just about to come and get you two.”

“What’s happenin’ here?” Rusl asked, staring at Coro who looked to be a mess. “Why were you screaming?”

Coro raised his head and stared at the two. “S-something’s out in the woods!” His voice shook as he said it, and he was shaking in fear.

Link frowned, feeling dread and fear creep up on him. “What was it?”

“I– I don’t know! I don’t know!”

Rusl rested a hand on Coro’s shoulder and kneeled down. “Take some deep breaths for me, ok? Think about what you saw and try to explain it to us.”

Coro swallowed and took a deep breath. “Ok, you are all gonna think that I’m insane, but I promise I’m not! I know these woods, I’ve seen all sorts of plants and animals! But I was putting my things away f-for the night, and I heard somethin’ behind me and… I saw a black creature staring at me!” Coro wailed and buried his face in his hands, and Rusl gave Link a look. “It tried to kill me! I swear!”

“Did you have a light to see this… black creature?” Jaggle asked skeptically, and Coro gave him a glare.

“I didn’t hallucinate it if that’s what you’re implying! Trill saw it too!”

As if on cue, Coro’s bird, Trill poked out from his hair, staring at the men. Link expected him to begin chatting, but he was uncharacteristically silent as the men observed the bird.

“Can you… Uh… describe the creature again?” Jaggle asked, and Coro let out a frustrated huff.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but it was a big, black creature with long arms! It almost swiped at me but I didn’t wait around! I thought something was off about the forest, Trill came to me a few days before talking about a bear, so I-I thought that he just got spooked! There hasn’t been a bear in these parts in ages so I assumed he saw a wolf! There’s been wolves around here right? But this wasn’t a bear, I don’t know what it was but it was no bear!”

Rusl, Jaggle, and Link all glanced at each other as Coro continued to ramble, and Rusl scratched the back of his head. “Sounds like you had a scare, Coro. But let’s think about this, it could’ve been a tree or something. They look scary at night, right?”

“Trees don’t try to swipe at you!” Coro yelled.

Jaggle glanced at Rusl and sighed. “You can stay with us if it makes you feel safe, we’ll be sure that the gate is locked extra tight, but–”

“No! You need to find that thing, now!” Coro grabbed Rusl and shook him slightly. “A gate won’t stop it if it found us! It’s too big! Don’t you remember what happened ten years ago? When a green monster burst through the gates and stole all the kids?”

Rusl’s expression grew dark, and Jaggle pulled Coro away.

“Now you need to calm down!” He yelled. “It’s gettin’ late, and it’s too dangerous to go out at night, we’ll hunt down whatever it was you saw tomorrow—“

“Jaggle,” Mayor Bo interrupted him, staring at the entrance, “perhaps we should find whatever Coro saw.”

“What? Bo are you crazy?”

“I don’t want anything attacking us at night when we’re most vulnerable,” Bo explained, his hands raised defensively. “We at least need to be prepared for something!”

Jaggle opened his mouth to say something but Rusl stepped up. “He’s right, it’s not dark yet, me and Link will check it out, the rest of you will make sure nothing happens to Ordon.” Link looked at his father in shock, but he avoided his gaze. “We’ll find whatever scared you, I don’t want anything to attack us at night either.”

Coro looked relieved and nodded. “Thanks, sorry to bother you folks–”

“It’s fine,” Rusl waved his apology away, “me and Link will investigate, Colin, Talon, and Beth will look after the village in the meantime, if it ain’t a bother.”

Jaggle let out a loud sigh and shrugged. “Don’t think Talo would be bothered at all.”

“Good. There’s still some sun left, once it gets too dark, me and Link will return, ok?”

Jaggle seemed more comfortable with that and nodded. Rusl nodded back and turned to head back to the house, with Link reluctantly following.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, pa?” Link asked softly as Bo led Coro to his home. “We don’t have a lot of time before it gets too dark.”

“We’ll be fine, Link. I take it it’s nothin’ serious,” Rusl said, but he didn’t seem too confident in his own words. “Besides, if something is out there, I don’t want– I don’t want another attack on Ordon.” Rusl’s voice grew quiet, but he didn’t turn to look at Link.

Link pursed his lips, but said nothing. When the two reached the house, Rusl quickly explained the situation to Uli and Colin. Uli protested against it while Colin grabbed a sword, determined to protect the village. With enough reassurance that they were going to be ok, the two bid their farewells, collected their swords and torches, and headed into the woods.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The forest was quiet save for the rustling of the leaves as they blew through the wind. The moon was full, which thankfully gave him and Rusl more light to work with. The sky was a deep purple, making the forest much darker than what Link would like. Sure there was some sunlight, but it wasn’t enough to investigate. It was uncomfortably silent between Link and Rusl, both listening intently to whatever could be out here. Link’s eyes were darting back and forth, his heart beating against his chest as they got closer to Coro’s house. He’s never liked the dark, but after the twilight invasion, he’s grown to hate it. Anything could be hiding in the shadows, watching him and his father as they walked by. It made his hair stand on its ends. Rusl seemed to be more relaxed than him though, a determined look on his face as he observed the trees illuminated by his torch and moon. When they reached Coro’s house, Link lowered his breathing to hear whatever it was Coro saw. His sword was raised in front of him while Rusl looked around the house. The silence was deafening, and the night air sent a chill up Link’s spine. He studied the ground around the house for a moment before looking at Rusl, who put a hand on his hip and sighed.

“Do you see anything?” He asked, and Link shook his head.

“I haven’t seen anything unusual, but something isn’t right.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I—I don’t know, something in the air isn’t right.” Link pursed his lips as he watched the trees around them. There was a good chance that he was just spooked, but the feeling of dread wouldn’t leave him. Rusl clicked his tongue as his head turned behind him.

“What do you think Coro saw?”

Link shrugged. If it was anyone else he wouldn’t be so worried, but it was Coro that got scared. He wasn’t scared of anything. Even when he saw Link as a wolf he seemed calm, even when monsters were right outside his home he didn’t care much. The only time Link has seen Coro frightened was during the twilight invasion, when shadow insects were crawling all over his home. A sinking feeling rested within his stomach as he thought about the missing people, but he shook his head. There was no way that there was another twilight invasion. The only Twili that were left in the world was Midna, and how she was able to be in this world was a mystery to him. No, it had to be an animal or a tree or something. Coro wasn’t afraid of anything, but everyone gets spooked every now and then.

“He probably saw a bear,” Rusl said softly, his brows pinched together.

“If it was a bear, then we should head back and hunt it tomorrow. It’s too dangerous to be out here at night.” Bears were rare in Ordon, but they showed up occasionally, and Link had heard too many horror stories from Rusl about them that he knew that they were a serious threat. But regardless, the idea of Coro seeing a bear scared Link less than any alternative. Rusl pursed his lips and stared at the ground.

“I’m not seeing any footprints though,” he muttered, kneeling on the ground and tracing his hand across the ground.

Link looked over his shoulder, the sudden feeling of dread overwhelming him as he stared at the darkness. Something was out in Faron woods, something dark and evil.

“Pa, we should go,” he said, trying to keep his voice from quivering. “We can lock the gates and look for it tomorrow, but we’re at a disadvantage here.”

“I know, Link. But it’s not too dark yet.”

“It’s dark enough for this to be dangerous!”

Rusl stared at the ground blankly for a moment, before looking up at Link. “You think he saw something out in these woods?” Rusl asked, and Link tilted his head.

“You don’t believe him?”

“I-I’m not sure. I’m not seein’ any footprints or anything around here. Nothing was by his house, I think he saw the shadow of a tree or something, but… I don’t want to take any chances.”

Link frowned as Rusl went back to staring at the ground. He didn’t want to risk a potentially dangerous monster attacking Ordon either, but Link knew that they wouldn’t last against a black creature at night. He looked behind him at the entrance to Ordon, shifting his feet nervously as he felt eyes on him from all sides. Rusl picked up on his nervous energy, and he stood up, eyeing the house.

“I’m just gonna look around some more, then we’ll head back, ok?”

Link nodded and watched as his father marched to Coro’s home. He lingered near the trees, watching them intently as if something would grab him. It was silent for too long, and he occasionally glanced over his shoulder to check on his pa, who was barely visible from the torch he was carrying. It was getting too dark, his patience was wearing thin, and his anxiety gnawed at his insides. He couldn’t wait out here any longer, they needed to head back now.

A snap of a twig caused Link to jump ten feet in the air, and he had his sword drawn out defensively in front of him as he glared at the darkness in front of him. His heart beat furiously against his chest as he strained his eyes to see what was lurking in the dark.

Was it a monster? A bulblin? A lost traveler? Several possibilities ran through his head as he searched the woods in front of him, fear nearly paralyzing him so much he couldn’t even speak. Another sound was heard, along with rustling, and something dark emerged into the light Link’s lantern emitted. Link jumped, yelling out as soon as he saw it, and when it was fully in the light, Link saw that the creature that spooked him so badly was a fuzzy rabbit, staring at him as its nose twitched. Link stared in shock, his breathing quick and his heart beating a mile a minute.

“Link?” Rusl called out worriedly, and Link heard his pa jogging towards him.

“I—it’s— a r—“ Link let out a sigh of relief as the rabbit hopped away, and he started giggling. Loud.

“Uh, Link?” Rusl sounded much more concerned as Link doubled over laughing.

“I—it’s a rabbit— a rabbit,” Link wheezed out between giggles, and Rusl raised an eyebrow.

“Ok…?” Rusl gave him one more look before returning to the house, his head shaking in confusion. Link let out a breath and stared at the ground lit up by his lantern, feeling slightly more relaxed. He picked up his lantern and stood up, but as he got on his feet, the light moved further into the darkness, and that was when he saw it.

A black hand, clearly human shaped, standing out in the lit up grass. It quickly disappeared into the darkness, but Link was able to see it. He felt his blood run cold as he shot up, his sword shaking in his trembling hands, the relief gone in an instant. Did he imagine that?

The feeling of dread began to overwhelm him, and he spun around to his father.

“Pa—“ he was interrupted by a familiar shriek. A shriek that paralyzed him to the bone. His body trembled as his heart beat so hard against his chest it felt as though it would burst. His senses were clouded, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t feel. All he knew was fear. Until the strong paralysis went away.

Link gasped as he was able to move again. His head felt light, his heart continued to race, but he felt conscious again. He looked around, shocked that he himself was left untouched. His lantern was left on the ground, standing upright, still emitting light enough for Link to see. The sky was black now, the moon emitting barely enough light for Link to see beyond the lantern. He shakily picked it up and looked around him, his heart sinking into his stomach as realization hit him.

Rusl.

The other light that came from Rusl’s torch was put out, and Link’s father was nowhere to be seen.

“P-pa?” Link called out weakly, tears pricking at his eyes when he was met with silence. He ran to Coro’s house and searched the ground, but there was no sign of Rusl, all except his torch which was laying on the ground. Link wasted no time turning into a wolf and sniffing the torch, but he was only met with the eye watering scent of smoke and fire. Goddesses, how could he find him?

Link noticed some scuff marks on the ground, and he saw the footprints. They weren’t human, there were no toes and they were much too small, but he knew that whatever they belonged to, it was what took Rusl. Link took off running, using his wolf senses to see in the dark. The footprints went into the dark caves, and Link plowed through, luckily remembering where to go from traveling through them hundreds of times. He ignored the rats and keese that tried to hurt him, and he emerged from the other side. At the end of the cave, Link spotted something glimmering in the moonlight. Rusl’s sword. Thank the spirits.

With no smoke to cloud his senses, Link was able to pick up on Rusl’s sent. It led deeper into Faron woods, through the thick trees that used to hold poisonous gas. Link sprinted through, the feeling of deja vu of hunting down the missing tailor and Goron making him more and more anxious.

Please don’t be too late.

Link was so focused on running that he barely noticed that he actually passed the scent, and he skidded to a stop, spinning to where the scent stopped. The scent didn’t seem to end abruptly the same way the tailor and goron’s did thankfully, but the feeling of dread kept any feeling of relief shining through. The creature was here, and it was watching him.

Link growled at the darkness in front of him, and he heard something shuffling. A dark mass silhouetted by the moon revealed itself, growing more and more until it stood up straight, and Link felt his heart drop.

It was a shadow beast, but it was different. Its skin was black as the night, blending into the dark trees around it, all except the red Twili mark on its chest. Black tendrils jutted out of its body, mostly from its head. Two arms were laid awkwardly on its back, instead of a mask there was a mouth that snarled at him with yellow teeth, and it was huge. Bigger than any shadow beast Link had seen. How…?

The creature snarled and rested on its two front arms, the arms on its back hanging menacingly. Link’s growl got more low, his fear replaced by fury. This thing did something to Rusl, and he was going to make it pay.

A hand suddenly swiped at his side, and Link was barely able to move before it hit him. He barked and jumped at the beast, biting into its shoulder as hard as he could. The beast shrieked and threw Link off of it, slamming him into a tree. Link sucked in a breath, scrambling to his feet as his back ached from the impact. He shook his head and snarled at the beast. It snarled back. He moved back and forth, trying to figure out where to begin on fighting this thing. If it was similar to a shadow beast, then fighting it shouldn’t be too difficult.

Link charged at it again, sinking his teeth into the shoulder of the beast. It let out a cry, but Link continued biting, ripping it apart with his claws and fangs. Eventually he was thrown off again, but before the beast had time to recover, Link jumped at it again, this time aiming for the stomach. Link went much deeper into the soft flesh of the torso, and he was able to rip a good chunk of it out. The creature shrieked in pain as it slammed its fist down onto Link, but he dodged just in time. The beast hunched over, holding its stomach in pain as black goo fell out. Though this creature was much bigger and stronger than a shadow beast, it was simply too easy to fight.

Link went to charge again but the beast made a strange noise that stopped him in his tracks. It stayed on all fours, hunched over, gagging. Link could only watch as it gagged, his confusion holding him in place. He only came back to reality when the beast began to vomit, and soon he saw a hand flailing around from its mouth. Rusl!

Link quickly turned back into a Hylian, reaching out for the hand. He felt relief when Rusl’s hand quickly gripped to his own, meaning that Rusl was still alive and conscious, and Link pulled with all his might. The beast remained still as Rusl was slowly pulled out, and Link’s father let out a gasp as his face emerged from the mouth.

“Pa!” Link yelled out, and Rusl struggled to pull his other arm free from the throat of the beast. His face was covered in the black goo that poured out of its stomach, covering his eyes and hair. As Link pulled him out more, he noticed the teeth of the beast ripping up his clothes, but he didn’t stop pulling.

Rusl’s other arm was pulled free, and it flailed towards Link’s arm, and he weakly hung on as he was pulled out the rest of the way. But just as he was free, the beast suddenly bit down on Rusl’s leg, and Link gasped as Rusl’s grip went limp and he was pulled away from him.

“PA!” Link screamed as he was dragged away, and the beast snarled at him, leering over Rusl as if he was its prize. It scooped up his pa in one of the hands on its back and it took off running, deeper into the woods. Link cursed under his breath and turned into a wolf again, ignoring the pain that shot through as he transformed. He took off running, following the beast through a gate to where Coro’s bird’s shop was. Link pumped his canine legs, and was able to catch up to the beast and Rusl. When he was close enough, he bit down on its leg, attempting to drag it to the ground. The creature shrieked and spun around, ripping its leg from Link’s mouth. The beast snarled at him as Rusl hung limply in its hand, blood and black goo dripping down his feet and hair. Link barked at him, but he didn’t move. The beast backed away from Link as he tried to wake his pa up, its back arching like an agitated cat as it growled at him.

Link made sure he was merciless this time around. He attacked relentlessly, aiming for the arms resting on its back, trying to get it to drop Rusl, but its grip was tight around his father, so it never let him go no matter how hard Link bit into its arms. The beast smacked Link a few times as he attacked the arms, but he fought through the pain, fiercely biting and scratching the beast. Link had severely underestimated this creature, with it not giving out anytime soon. Shadow beasts normally would die after having their throats ripped out or being clawed to death, but it seemed that this thing was invincible. He didn’t know why, but it was stronger than any Twili creature he’s ever fought.

Link was smacked against a tree again, and he staggered slightly as he got on his feet. He was growing exhausted, he felt like he was doing the same thing over and over again to no avail. Though he’d just ripped part of its stomach out, it didn’t seem to be bothered by it. What was this thing?

The creature snarled at him again, having a more confident pose as it faced Link, and all he could do was growl at the thing. He didn’t care what happened to him, he just needed to make sure Rusl was safe. The beast charged at him, and Link braced himself, but it suddenly stopped, shrinking back into the shadows, making strange noises that sounded like pain. It looked up at the sky and to Link’s surprise, it dropped Rusl and sprinted away, leaving Link alone with his father. He quickly turned back into a Hylian, staggering at the sharp pain in his back, but he stood up, pulling out his sword. He ran to Rusl, standing over his father protectively in case it returned, but it did not.

Why did the thing run away? It was winning, it wouldn’t have dropped Rusl like that. The sun rising in the sky answered Link’s question, and soon the forest was lit up. Relief swept over him as he was able to see, and he knew he was safe. For now at least. It seemed that the—Twili beast— hated the light.

Link relaxed and put his sword away, exhaustion beginning to overwhelm him, but he couldn’t rest, not yet. He looked at his father who was still unconscious, and he turned him over. His entire body was covered in black goo, and some of it mixed in with blood from small cuts on his skin, possibly from the creature’s teeth. His leg looked the worst, with a bite mark circling around his calf and shin. It had stopped bleeding it seemed, but dried blood mixed with black goo made it look much worse. Rusl was breathing, though it was shallow and sounded wrong. Link hoped that his ribs weren’t bruised or broken, he wondered how tight that thing held onto him. Link took a deep breath and shook him gently, brushing his clumpy hair out of his eyes.

“P-pa?” He whispered, shaking him a little harder. Rusl seemed to be reacting to being shaken, so Link tried harder. He needed medical attention, and his mind thought of the spirit springs. He remembered fairies appeared at each one after he faced a trial from the great fairy, he wondered if they were still there. “Pa,” he repeated, a little louder. Rusl’s blue eyes began to flutter open, and he stared at Link confused.

“L-Link?” He croaked.

Link smiled a relieved smile and started to help him to his feet, but Rusl stopped him quickly, hissing in pain as he held his side.

“Somethings wrong,” he rasped, sinking into the ground. Link frowned and looked him over. His ribs must’ve been broken.

“C’mon, pa. We gotta get to the spring. You’ll feel better.”

Rusl stared at him, wheezing and holding his side painfully, but he didn’t stop Link from helping him to his feet. Rusl leaned heavily on Link’s side, and the two slowly walked to the spring. It felt like hours until they finally made it, at some point Link had to pick up his pa to carry him the rest of the way, despite his protests. He set him down in the spring water, immediately feeling comfort in the warm water. Rusl let out a sigh of relief as he rested in the water, but the relief melted into panic as he looked at himself.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Link asked, calming down his father.

“‘Don’t want to dirty the spring.”

“You’re not gonna dirty the spring, the spirit’s light keeps it clean,” at least he assumed, the water never seemed to get dirty no matter what was put in it. Rusl relaxed again and stared at himself, his brows furrowed. Link began washing the goo and blood off of himself, helping Rusl occasionally. Rusl was uncomfortably silent while the two cleaned themselves off, and Link wanted to bring up what had happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it either. After Link finished washing out his wounds, he stood up, limping towards the bushes to see if any fairies were hiding. Luckily he found two and he returned with them both, noticing Rusl staring at him with his brows furrowed.

“Some fairies,” Link said, handing them both to him.

Rusl silently opened his palm where one fluttered onto his hand, and it healed up his bleeding leg and bruised ribs. He let out a sigh of relief and stared at Link who still held the other one.

“You need another one, pa,” Link pressed, but Rusl shook his head.

“You’re hurt too.”

“Not as bad as you.”

“I don’t care, my leg is healed, you use it.”

Link was taken aback at his intense tone, but he was too tired to fight back. He held the fairy gently in his hand and it floated around him, healing up his aching back. It rested on his head when it finished healing him, and Link let out a sigh of relief. Fairies were wonderful creatures.

The two sat in silence, staring at the crystal blue water they were in, soaking in the sun as it rose higher and higher in the sky. It didn’t feel like they were gone all night, but with Link’s tired body, he supposed it made sense.

“Link,” Rusl broke the silence, continuing to stare blankly at the water. “We need to tell the resistance about this as soon as possible.” Link stared at him for a moment, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Rusl continued. “That… thing… it has to be responsible for the disappearances. We need to tell them about this.”

Link nodded. “We oughta tell them when we all meet up then—“

“I’m not waiting until the date Sheik set, we need to tell them now.”

Link stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, ok, I agree. I’ll send a letter, then we can move out tomorrow.”

“Link—“

“We move out tomorrow, pa. We need rest though, we’ve been up all night. Besides, we gotta tell the folks around Ordon to stay away from Faron at night, ok?”

Rusl glared at him for a moment, but it softened when he had no rebuttal. “Yeah, ok. We need rest.”

Link nodded. He was no stranger to staying up all night, but as he’s gotten older, it’s been much harder to deal with. He stood up, his legs feeling weak as he walked around, and Rusl followed, being careful on his newly healed leg. Link stared at his leg for a moment, then faced him.

“Are… are you alright?”

Rusl stopped walking and looked up at him. “I’m… fine. Thanks to you. Are you ok?”

Link pursed his lips and nodded. “I’ll be fine, pa.”

Rusl’s gaze softened and he wrapped his arm around Link’s shoulder. “Let’s head back then. I bet everyone is worried sick.”

69 notes · View notes

thetomorrowshow · 25 days

Text

for a light

okay I PROMISE that comfort is coming I PROMISE

Scott stares Xornoth down from across the plateau, wind whipping the demon's hair and robes, black streaking out from him like some decaying flag.

They're alone, just the two of them, so far away (ndisu ndikitá'ána).

He's here.

It's time.

He sets the crown of antlers upon his head.

His fingers tighten on the thin grip of his sword.

Scott hisses as his finger bumps the pot, drops his hold and sticks the finger in his mouth. He was just trying to shift it to settle it better in the coals. Stupid cloth slipping.

Right. There's literally snow right there.

Scott removes his finger from his mouth, digs it into the snow beside him. The burn cools, eventually going numb.

That's one upside to living in a permanent winter. There's snow everywhere.

This little clearing in the woods that he took used to have a tent pitched in the center, grass and trees and wildflowers all around.

The tent is long gone, having collapsed under the weight of the snow and ice that collected upon it. Scott replaced it with an ice hut of sorts, which he thinks he created while asleep because he's not exactly sure how he did it. It's kind of ugly, but it has four walls and a roof and a little hole for a door, and it works.

The grass and plants aren't really visible anymore, the ground covered in a thick blanket of snow. Scott's not sure how, but someone had managed to get him a good pair of elven work boots, insulated and sturdy, so that he can tromp through the six or seven inches of snow without much issue. He's cold, this old, patched coat not quite enough to block out the chill, but the gloves keep his fingers from feeling too much like ice and the hand-knit hat prevents a majority of the headaches that his frozen ears cause. He's not too badly off, to be honest. There's just so much . . . cold.

And if he could get it to melt, that would be great.

He can make ice and snow appear just fine. There's plenty of snow, and he can point and ice spikes will shoot up out of the ground, and he can picture a cube of ice and watch as it forms in front of him, but that just means that now he has a little pile of ice cubes and a ludicrous amount of spikes the size of a tree. He can't get rid of anything.

And sure, he has a modicum of control. He can form ice cubes, and spikes, or whatever. But he can't turn off the way ice and snow just grows around him, or the freeze that blasts from him when he waves his arms.

He's been here for two weeks, figuring absolutely nothing out, and he doesn't have much hope for the future.

It feels like there's a wall in his head, a literal barrier keeping him from finding the way to draw back the ice. He's spent hours, days, even, pushing and shoving and just sitting against this wall, trying to force it to work.

It won't give. It's exhausting, day-in and day-out, to try again and again and again as the ice and snow just build up around him.

"Scott!"

Jimmy.

They haven't really . . . talked. Of course, Jimmy turns up every day without fail, bringing with him food and supplies. He always stands on the fringe of the clearing, shares news of the camp, of their latest excursion, of the fight they have planned.

Scott never really says much. He doesn't know how to respond, and Jimmy always leaves with his shoulders sagging the slightest bit.

What is he supposed to say?

I mourned you. I cried for you every day, because I knew I'd never see you again. I attended your funeral. I comforted your sister. I wore a depressing mimicry of what we once wore together, covering myself in the same darkness that took you. I lost you.

You didn't die, you survived, and I still lost you.

How is he supposed to tell Jimmy that what hurts more than anything about this situation is that he never tried to disabuse Scott of the notion that he was dead?

He thinks he still loves Jimmy. Their hearts were made for each other. They've been through too much together to just let go of everything they had.

But there were forty-two of the worst days of Scott's life, in which Scott believed his betrothed to be dead. He can't forget that. He can't pretend that Jimmy even attempted to contact him.

His mind always returns to that. Why didn't he? What reasons has he given, other than his ominous “it wasn't time yet”? Why?

And now they're here, in this horribly awkward phase where they haven't even discussed whether or not they're still an item (Scott's desperately in love with Jimmy but he isn't sure he can even stand to see him it hurts so much) or if that's even something they want to pursue right now (Scott wants so badly just to hold his hand but he can't let himself hurt Jimmy).

"Hey, Scott!"

Scott straightens (his wings shudder under the weight of the ice coating them, but none of it cracks), shakes the snow off his hands, and turns, stomach twisting.

Jimmy is standing there, a good ten feet away, leaning out from between the trees.

It's just Jimmy. Hair still too long, beard still obstinately there, an anxious smile on his pockmarked face.

Doesn't he have anything better to do, rather than visit Scott every day?

Jimmy holds up a bundle of cloth.

"I brought some bread and . . . venison, I think? I forgot to ask what it was. Does that sound good?"

Scott tugs his scarf up a bit higher on his cheeks. "Sounds fine," he calls back, voice muffled by the fabric.

Jimmy tosses it; Scott catches the bundle, grimaces when it frosts over the moment it touches his hands.

"What are you cooking?" Jimmy asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Scott glances back at his little pot on the dying coals.

"Just porridge," he says. That's all Jimmy gave him yesterday, after all. The grain for whatever chunky porridge it is that they eat at the camp all the time.

"That's . . . that's cool," says Jimmy. Dear Aeor, he looks so unbearably awkward. What does he want?

Thankfully, Jimmy gets straight to the point, no more hobbling around small talk.

"We're going on a mission," he says, the words coming out in puffs of frozen air. "There's a village about a day's walk from here, the largest we've gone for yet. They're going to be a huge asset to our rebellion."

Scott nods a couple of times. "Okay. How long until you're back?"

Jimmy chews on his lip—the way he always does when he's anxious, or isn't sure how to approach a problem. "That's . . . well, I wanted to see if you would come, actually."

It takes Scott a few seconds to process that, but when he does, he almost laughs out loud.

He's out of his mind if he thinks Scott will risk something like that. He can't control this! He's had to separate himself from the rest of the camp because there's a ten foot radius of winter wonderland that appears around him!

He has to be joking.

"You have to be joking," Scott says.

Jimmy shrugs. "I talked about it with the others that are coming on the mission, and they're all fine with it. If it makes you feel better—"

"No, I'm dangerous—"

"—we can walk apart from you, and—"

"—you don't understand, I hurt Gem, I'll—"

"—was just thinking that it can't be good for you to—"

"Jimmy, I said no!"

And childishly, to emphasize his point, Scott stamps his foot.

Ice crackles along the ground like a whip, shooting up in little spikes, a ten-inch wall down the middle of his little clearing.

It stops just short of Jimmy, the last little spike rising just inches from his boots, and Scott almost wants to go and shove him out of the way because Jimmy doesn't even move!

Doesn't he have any sense of self-preservation?

Jimmy doesn't seem scared when he looks up at Scott. He just seems sad.

"That's why I can't," Scott bites out, wrapping his arms around himself. His scarf is slipping, nose exposed to the cold. "I'm not safe. I don't want to hurt someone."

"Okay. Can I explain myself, though?"

Before Scott can give an answer, Jimmy takes a small step forward, boot crunching on snow.

Scott takes a step back.

"We know how to keep ourselves safe," he says. "Most of the people here escaped terrible conditions where one wrong move could kill them. They know how to recognize threats and keep a safe distance. It wouldn't even be an issue to travel with you."

Scott wants to argue, but Jimmy takes another step. Scott quickly steps back, swallowing down the fear that rises in his throat, burning like bile.

"We would travel kind of separately, and it wouldn't even be a long journey. Two days at most, I think. So the main group would stick together, and you would stay within sight off to the side. We usually move quietly, so you wouldn't miss out on conversation or anything."

Okay, that's probably what Scott would do if they were forced to travel. He's pretty sure that he can cause ice issues outside of the ten foot radius, if he tries, but it doesn't automatically happen. Travel plans like that might actually work.

Which doesn't mean they're good. They aren't. They just might work.

"This village has a lot of soldiers, from what we can tell. Way more than there ought to be. They're beginning to figure out our game. We usually wouldn't go for someplace so risky, but there's so many people there. If we freed them, we could easily add two hundred to our able fighters."

Is Jimmy stupid?

"It's a trap," Scott says, pointing out what seems obvious. "Why would they have so many Mythlanders there if not to wait for you?"

Jimmy scoffs. "We know it's a trap," he says. "That's why we want you. We want to avoid fights if possible—and if you were there, we would have a really decent chance of getting in and out without losing anyone."

"You're forgetting that I can't really control this," Scott says icily, and as if to match his tone, it spontaneously begins to snow. "I'm just as likely to hurt one of you."

"We just need you to make it as cold as possible. The Cod will survive—we're pretty good with cold temperatures. But humans are a bit more sensitive to that kind of thing. So we thought—if you could freeze over the village, then all the guards would go inside and we could sneak everyone out!"

That. . . .

That is a monumentally idiotic plan.

Scott blinks several times, just to make sure it really is Jimmy in front of him and not some hallucination induced by so much time alone.

"Or we could not do that," he says. "Just a suggestion."

Jimmy laughs a little. "I kind of figured you'd say that," he says. "But it's worth a shot, right? And if it doesn't work, we can go back to camp and figure out something else. No harm done, right?"

"Other than the possible harm that my very presence could cause," Scott says. "Do you really think that staying ten feet away while traveling would work? Just because that's my snowglobe radius doesn't mean anyone is safe outside of it."

He re-crosses his arms, waits for Jimmy to meet his eyes.

Jimmy's quiet for a long time, looking around at the unintentional ice spikes and piles of snow. Long enough that Scott turns away, tosses the sack from Jimmy into his ice hut.

That's that, then. He and Jimmy aren't going to talk about any of their real issues. Jimmy's so focused on this inconsequential rebellion of his that he won't even think about the fact that Xornoth may be controlling the world by now. Gem might be dead—literally any of them could be dead, Lizzie or Shubble or Joel all could have fallen—and Xornoth has control of half of the empires or all of them. And the only way to stop him didn't work.

Yet all Jimmy will even give thought to is his stupid little rebellion.

"I know it's hard," Jimmy says, voice awkwardly too-loud, rousing Scott from his thoughts. "It's really, really hard. I know that you don't trust yourself, and that you're hurting, and there's so much tangled up between us that I don't really understand but I know isn't making any of this easier for you. But I know you want to get better. I know you, Scott. And I know you will do everything in your power to keep those people safe."

Scott doesn't say anything, blinks back the sudden tears. He doesn't need this. He doesn't need Jimmy telling him what he feels.

Even if he's right.

He would do everything to keep the others safe.

He just can't guarantee that it would work.

"I trust you," Jimmy says firmly. "We trust you. I wouldn't have even brought it up if I hadn't cleared it with everyone else. And if it doesn't work, I'll never ask you to do it again. But please, Scott. If not for the people suffering, do it for me."

He doesn't owe Jimmy anything.

As a ruler, he pledged to defend his people, and he failed. What about when he fails again? Will he even be able to live with himself?

Will he be able to live with himself if he doesn't try?

In the grand scheme of things, a rebel attack to evacuate citizens of a small town in the Codlands is absolutely nothing. It will likely not contribute at all to the ending of the war.

But it's somewhere to start. Jimmy's always talking about how if they're still alive after everything, they ought to be doing something good with it. If he wants to eventually try to launch some sort of hopeless attack on Xornoth, he has to start somewhere. He has to figure this ice stuff out.

"Okay," he says eventually, reluctantly. "I don't . . . I don't want to. I don't think it will go well."

"If you can't trust yourself, you can trust me," offers Jimmy, and Scott grimaces at the hope in his voice.

He doesn't respond.

He wants to trust Jimmy. He wishes nothing had ever broken the trust that was there.

He isn't sure what did break it. He can't exactly blame Jimmy for not dying.

"I'll come get you tomorrow around midmorning, okay? We're hoping to arrive when it's dark the next day, then just have you freeze it overnight and get the Cod out before sunrise. Sound good?"

Scott shrugs. "It's your plan," he says. "Does it sound good to you?"

Jimmy doesn't respond, glancing over his shoulder. "I need to go finish prepping," he says when he turns back. "Take care. I . . . I'll see you tomorrow."

Scott doesn't move (frozen to the spot, he thinks idly), just watches Jimmy go, picking his way back between the trees.

What has he agreed to?

The journey goes exactly as Jimmy had laid out. Jimmy travels in a band of thirty-two people (Scott counts them during one of their fifteen minute rests), all able young Cod, some with cobbled-together armor or swords, others with nothing but the clothes on their back and improvised weapons. Scott sees two hand-made slings, one little hunting bow, and a couple of large branches shaped into clubs. All from afar, of course.

Scott walks a good thirty or forty feet away from the group, shying away whenever someone accidentally veers a little close. They always hurry back to the others, shivering and rubbing their arms.

Jimmy, of course, comes close on purpose. He keeps trailing along on the edges of the group, giving Scott terribly hopeful glances.

Scott just keeps his eyes on the snowy ground before him and wishes he could figure out how to talk to him.

Does he even want to talk to him?

Of course he does. Of course he wants to talk to his . . . to Jimmy.

He just can't. He can't risk hurting him. He can't risk getting hurt.

And soon enough, they've arrived at the town.

Scott has somehow managed to avoid hurting anyone, though one Cod only narrowly avoids getting stabbed by a flying ice spike when Scott gets startled by a bee.

He isn't sure how powerful he is, just that he's managed to tie it down and lash it to himself. But Scott, more often than not, feels like there's a thin door being battered and blown by a terrible snowstorm, ice seeping in through the cracks, and soon enough he'll have to try to open the door just a little bit. He can only imagine it blasting it open and sending bursts of unstoppable power out, forever unable to be closed.

Jimmy approaches him as Scott finishes up eating a cold supper, and even though it's dark Scott knows it's Jimmy because he knows Jimmy, he knows his habits and his tendencies and just weeks ago that had been painful, precious knowledge and now it means nothing significant.

"We're about ready," Jimmy says, not looking at Scott. He's looking out over the ridge that they're hidden behind, toward the town below. Scott wants to shake him, scream at him, drag him down to the ground. Doesn't he know he'll be seen? That his outline against the darkening sky will be obstinately visible?

"I'll take you down there in about a half hour. Then you just need to drop the temperatures to about freezing, all right? We'll do everything from there."

Scott doesn't answer. He doesn't have anything to say.

You left me you died to me I lost you and you were here. You were here this whole time and I've been hurting, and I'm still hurting and you just don't care. Why didn't you comfort me? Why aren't you helping me? Why won't you listen to everything I can't say?

Jimmy doesn't say anything, either, despite Scott's silent cries. He just stands there awkwardly, then gives Scott a nod and jogs back over to the main group.

Scott flexes his fingers in their gloves, blows on his hands, relishes the momentary warmth that brings him. He's always so cold these days. For good reason, of course—and despite all that, elves naturally run colder than humans, with the climate of their dwelling—, but he doesn't have to like it.

How is he meant to freeze an entire town without accidentally doing more damage than intended?

At this point, Scott has absolutely zero doubt that he'll be able to freeze the town. Piece of cake. The problem is drawing back the power after it's been extended.

It doesn't help that he doesn't know what he's doing. It doesn't help that all he's done for the past two weeks is try to not explode. He hasn't actually learned anything about control, or using the magic to his advantage.

And now he has to save a town. Use this untamable magic in moderation.

He's going to fail so badly.

And yet, when Jimmy returns not long later, Scott readjusts the little knapsack that hangs off his shoulder and sets off around the ridge, following Jimmy from a safe distance.

They skirt around their little camp on the side of the ridge, giving the refugees a wide berth so as to avoid getting any of them mixed up in Scott's personal snowstorm. That wouldn't help anything about this situation.

The ice hasn't been unfreezing behind him, either. That's been kind of concerning. He'd assumed, back in his little patch of the forest, that the ice hadn't gone away because he hadn't gone away. But now there's just a path of frost and snow through the long grasses of the outer Codlands, a trail leading directly to the rebel camp.

Scott really hopes it melts with time. It wouldn't be good to have one of fWhip's flying fish spies follow it and discover the camp.

He gets pulled from his thoughts by necessity as they approach the town, Jimmy making sure to keep them to the shadows, out of range of the torchlight from the perimeter guards. They crouch down behind some bushes (Jimmy beckons Scott closer, miming something about talking, and Scott reluctantly settles down close enough beside him—about five feet away, the closest to anyone he's been in weeks), peering between the brambles. Sure enough, there's more guards than a small border town ought to have—Scott counts at least four that patrol by the edge of town in the five minutes that they sit there and watch.

"We need to give my people a few more minutes, probably," Jimmy whispers, glancing up at the sky. The moon hasn't risen yet, so Scott's really not sure what he's checking. "But if you want to start the freeze, you can."

Right. Freezing an entire town.

Scott reaches inside himself for . . . for something. He isn't sure what. It's not like there's anything in there. Just his aching heart.

He legitimately feels fatigued from holding back the magic the best he can, but he doesn't know how to let go. He doesn't have any sort of point of reference for this. What is he supposed to do?

After several long minutes of indecision, of pulling at different parts of his mind to see if something just releases the switch, Scott gives up on figuring it out and just pushes.

He's not sure if the dam is broken, but a little flurry of snowflakes shoots out of his hands and he imagines the town, water in barrels and canals slowly freezing over, the temperatures dropping, the night air becoming frigid and biting.

Why does it have to be him?

"Nice," Jimmy whispers beside him. Scott blinks, looks up.

It's snowing. All across the town is snowing.

He didn't mean to make it snow. He only wanted to make it cold.

And it is cold. His fingers through their gloves are aching, the exposed skin on his face burns as a gust of freezing wind blows past.

"Was that too much?" he whispers, twisting his hands together. "I didn't mean for—"

Jimmy breathes out a near-silent laugh, gives him a grin. "I knew you could do it. I knew it!"

He made Jimmy happy.

Despite all the confusing hurt keeping them apart, that still makes Scott's heart squeeze in the best way possible.

The guards glance around at the fat flakes of snow, clearly confused. There's some shouting person to person, and within torchlight on the edge of town, a cluster of guards gather, rubbing their hands together and stamping their feet and pointing back to the center of town as they talk.

There's no way this will work. If his guards at Rivendell left their posts because it got a little cold, they would be in severe trouble with their captain.

But as Scott watches, one by one, the guards begin to trail away, heading toward what Scott assumes to be the inn.

There's no way. There's no way this is actually working. This can't be real.

Jimmy takes in a near-silent breath, lets it out in a low, loud, whoop/whistle. It sounds strikingly like the call of an owl that Scott has heard occasionally in these parts, late at night.

When did Jimmy learn bird calls?

It's a small thing. It's not even anything that matters. It's tiny and unimportant and Scott really shouldn't be close to tears right now.

It's like he doesn't even know Jimmy. He doesn't want to be upset, but he can't seem to stop it.

Jimmy still loves him and wants him; Jimmy wants them to be in love again.

How is it so hard?

Every guard has gone inside now, the town quiet.

The snow continues to fall, slow, drifting gently onto a peaceful street, becoming a picturesque winter scene.

Yet staring at it doesn't bring Scott peace. He only grows more and more anxious, eyes scanning from point to point, as though he might miss the operation entirely if he only watches the snow.

And after five or so minutes of waiting, Scott sees, past the falling snow, camouflaged people stealing through the streets, peering in windows, tapping lightly on doors.

The Cod residents are quick and quiet to answer, which is absolutely absurd.

It's actually working.

The other day, this was the most ridiculous plan Scott had ever heard. He never would have believed that any part of it would actually come to any sort of fruition.

And here they are.

He continues to watch as entire families sneak out of houses, glancing left and right before stepping out into the street, some bundled up in layers of clothing and others with nothing but a thin tunic protecting them from the weather.

The rebels move in phases, ushering out first this side street, then that one, making sure each sector of the town doesn't leave without instruction.

Scott watches, and something within him marvels.

This is the work. This had seemed so inconsequential to him just days ago—there are much larger things to worry about, after all—but now he can see how this had become Jimmy's whole world.

There's so many of them. They're moving house-by-house, sending one group before beckoning the next, but the streets are still close to packed.

There's a woman, hands covering her mouth as tears stream down her face, following a group into an alley. A shirtless man, carrying two children at once, his shirt draped over the both of them. A child—a tiny slip of a girl, surely not older than eight, clinging to her parent's leg, the torchlight from the abandoned guard posts illuminating her face just enough that Scott can see a hand-shaped bruise spanning her cheek.

The people are malnourished, injured, terrified. They’ve been desperately praying that someone will rescue them, someone will come along and deliver them from this darkness.

And here Jimmy is, a shining light, their once-dead king returned to save them specifically, as unimportant as they feel they are.

It makes sense. Jimmy's forces aren't strong enough to take on Xornoth, so why should he even focus on something so unattainable?

This, while not easy, is doable, and something that both strengthens his numbers and helps his people.

Scott gets it. It's about hope. It's about remembering the lost. It's about finding strength and life in this world of corruption.

"Scott," Jimmy whispers, pulling him from his realization.

Scott blinks, looks over at him. Jimmy's teeth are chattering, his nose pink, his lips pale of color. His arms are clutched around himself, doing nothing to hide the way his entire body trembles.

"You can reel it back in, a bit," Jimmy says, clearly going for humor, but the words fall flat when his lips can't even twitch up in some semblance of a smile.

Oh.

Scott looks back to the town, and now, he doesn't just see the wonder of it all. He sees how slowly everyone is moving, the way the rebels look up fearfully at the quickening snow, the way none of them are wearing any proper winter gear.

It's cold out. It's very, very cold out. It's definitely far below freezing, icicles already hanging from buildings, a thick layer of snow blanketing the ground.

It's too cold. He sees, all at once, three children collapse, and their caretakers pick them up but can barely keep going.

It's too much. It's too cold, so cold that a man stumbles and falls, and those around him are too cold to stop and help.

"Scott, make it stop," Jimmy whispers with increasing urgency. "It's too cold. Scott, stop."

He can't stop.

The door has been opened, and Scott doesn't know how to close it.

He can't make it warm up, he can't even stop it from getting colder. The night sky is growing steadily darker as more clouds roll in, the snow falling harder and faster—there's actual ice spreading, visibly spreading, crawling out from the bushes where he and Jimmy are crouched, heading toward the town and Scott can't stop it—

"Scott—"

"I can't stop it," breathes Scott, and it's nothing but the truth. He can't just turn it off, that isn't something he knows how to do—he doesn't know how to do anything, this is a curse and he hates it and nothing will ever be right again!

"I can't stop it," he says again, louder, voice shaking. "I can't—I can't do it, I told you I can't, I don't know how—"

"Just try," Jimmy says over him, hands held up. "I know you can do it, I trust you—"

"Just—just stop!" Scott bursts out, finally, all those terrible emotions rising to his tongue. "You keep saying—you keep—you were dead, you left me and you don't get to—you can't tell me what I can and can't do, I don't—"

"Scott," Jimmy says, something horribly placating in his voice, and it sounds just like the old Jimmy, just like the one who died—

Scott stumbles up, backing away from Jimmy. He can't—he doesn't want—this is all too much, too much, he's ruined everything and it's too much—

Jimmy stands as well, taking a couple of steps toward him. "Scott, I'm going to touch you, okay?"

"No!" Scott bites out. The wind is whistling in his ears, he can barely hear Jimmy over it—he can barely see Jimmy through the snow, there's so much of it, and Scott can't make it stop! He can't fix this! "Don't touch me, I don't—I don't even know you, I'll hurt you!"

"Scott—"

"Get—away—" Jimmy's just coming closer, one step at a time, and Scott doesn't want him, that's not his Jimmy, he doesn't want to hurt him—

The storm is rapidly getting worse, the snow beating down on his face with little pellets of ice, he had never meant to make it snow let alone storm, he's cursed, he's forever cursed, there's no way he can make things right, there's no way anything will ever be right again—!

And then there are arms around him.

Jimmy squeezes him tightly, good pressure and tightly enough that his brain is forced to settle into a more peaceful state, despite his surroundings.

His lover is warm against him, and Scott instinctively buries his face in the crook of Jimmy's shoulder where it belongs and perfectly fits.

Something inside doesn't really click into place. It doesn't quite work. It's close, but it's just not where it needs to be.

But it does slide together nicely, and Scott somehow finds a slippery grasp on the cold and tugs it back in.

He hadn't even been able to have this before. He hadn't even been able to feel a way to control it, let alone actually take hold.

But there's some kind of power positively radiating from Jimmy, something that Scott can feel and recognize in this entirely new world of magic that he never even knew existed.

It's got to be Jimmy's love.

Jimmy loves him so so much that it overpowers the curse.

And Scott, for the first time in weeks, feels warm.

He feels warm. Jimmy's here, his arms wrapped around Scott, and he feels warm.

A sob rises in his chest.

This is his Jimmy.

His Jimmy is holding him, and loves him, and is so very warm.

"There we go," Jimmy whispers into his hair, voice slightly muffled. "Not too much, now. We still need a little bit of snow coming down."

Right.

Scott doesn't think he has the emotional capacity to pay attention to anything but Jimmy, but he loosens his grip on the ice just a little, enough that the snow doesn't stop.

The sob bursts out of his mouth, and Scott clutches Jimmy as close to him as possible.

His Jimmy is here. He's actually here.

And Scott can feel his fingers again, warmth washing over every part of his body.

They don't move for a long time. Jimmy watches the exodus over his shoulder as Scott cries into his chest, letting all of the emotions that he's been feeling for the past two months pour out onto Jimmy's coat.

They stand there, and Scott sobs.

After too long, long enough that the tears on Scott's face become more sticky than wet (they aren't freezing on his cheeks, like they've been doing, and isn't that just a miracle), Jimmy pulls away.

Scott feels his tenuous control slip from his grasp—too cold again, too cold—and he launches himself back into Jimmy's arms.

"Don't go," he chokes out.

"Okay."

"Please . . . I can't—I can't do this without you."

"Okay."

Scott takes in a shuddering breath. He's stronger than this. He can do this.

"Do you think you can stop the snow?"

Scott nods, his nose wiping across Jimmy's coat. Then, with a mustering of what little strength he has, he shuts that imaginary door.

It almost doesn't shut. Scott strains against it in his mind, inch by inch, but eventually it clicks shut.

He can't lock it. But holding to Jimmy keeps it shut, and Scott doesn't plan on letting go.

Jimmy's right here.

Jimmy is real.

He's alive.

"You died," Scott sniffles, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. "You died!"

"I know," Jimmy murmurs, sounding absolutely heartbroken. "I know. I'm here."

"You weren't there, though. You—you left me! I was so—so alone!"

"I know," Jimmy says again. "I'm so sorry, Scott. I'm so sorry."

Jimmy's crying too, Scott realizes. They're in snow up to their knees, in full view of the town, and they're both just standing here crying.

Scott. . . .

Scott doesn't really care.

His heart, broken by the weight of the grief hanging so heavily on it, is finally beginning to heal.

That's more important than anything else around.

Scott doesn't let go of Jimmy's hand the entire trip back.

They walk back to the camp, bringing up the rear of a long crowd of refugees. Scott's trail of frost is barely-there, and he never feels like he's a danger to anyone while Jimmy is at his side.

They arrive back at the camp almost three days later, the group slower-moving with the addition of a good three hundred people. The camp is thrown into chaos, more than doubled in size, and Jimmy's pulled every which way by every person possible as they try to make arrangements and adjustments on such a large scale.

Scott stays with him through it all. He presses himself into Jimmy's side during a hurried meeting about leadership for splitting into several camps; he clings to him while Jimmy directs new refugees to food; he holds his hand through long hours of pointing people this way and that.

Jimmy doesn't end up being forced to bed until past midnight, a young Cod practically pushing him and Scott to his tent. Jimmy goes reluctantly, walk stumbling and eyes bloodshot. Scott can't imagine that he looks any better—he can feel how oily his hair is, limp after being literally frozen for so long, his wings unkempt and dragging. He can barely stay upright, and relief floods him when they finally reach Jimmy's tent.

Jimmy collapses onto his bedroll without even taking off his boots or unbuckling the enchanted sword on his back, and Scott is just able to manage loosening the laces of his own boots and kicking them off before he falls down beside him.

"There's still so much to do," mumbles Jimmy, and instinctively, they wrap around each other, knees slotting perfectly and arms weaving just right.

It's like nothing changed.

It's like everything is right again.

"I missed you," Scott whispers, though his throat threatens to choke on the words.

He lost Jimmy. Forty-two days of mourning, of the worst torture he's ever been subjected to.

He lost him, and it still hurts. Everything still feels so terribly hopeless, so dark, and Jimmy forsook him for so long.

But he's back. He's here, and alive, and through his thin tunic under the hilt of the sword Scott can feel a new scar just below the nape of his neck (Jimmy shudders as his fingers trace it, but doesn't pull away) but he's alive and in Scott's arms.

He died. Jimmy died, and it must have been terribly traumatic for him in ways that Scott hasn't even considered.

But by some miracle, he's here. He's okay.

He is, isn't he?

"Are you all right?" Scott asks quietly, seized by the need to know that his love is well. He doesn't know the specifics, not really—but Jimmy said he'd been stabbed several times, and that can't have been easy to recover from—and Scott had made it awfully cold earlier, and he knows that some of the refugees suffered because of it, and Jimmy only had that thin coat on.

Jimmy doesn't respond, though, breathing slow and even, and Scott eventually relaxes, assuming that he's asleep. He can get his answer tomorrow, after all. He can fuss over him all he wants.

Scott honestly can't believe that he let himself drift so far from Jimmy. He let his feelings of abandonment and despair and everything else get in the way of being here, holding his beloved, giving him comfort and receiving it in bucketloads.

He was so wrapped up in losing Jimmy the first time, he almost lost him again.

Then Jimmy shifts in his arms, sighs a little bit. "I'm okay," he finally replies. "That's what you asked, right?"

Scott nods against his shoulder, and Jimmy lets out a low chuckle. "My good ear is pressed to the pillow, sorry," he says by way of explanation. "Couldn't quite hear you. Are you okay?"

Is he okay?

He's not physically injured. And he's not quite so cold—with Jimmy's love warming him, he can keep a lid on the ice magic, stopping it from spreading beyond his fingertips.

Everything about this situation still hurts. Everything's still so terrible, and there's no way to overcome it.

But Jimmy's here now, and he loves Scott.

And Scott loves him.

"I'm all right," he says eventually, before burying his face deeper into Jimmy's shoulder.

And he thinks, for the moment, that it's true.

Scott dreams that night.

He dreams of a plateau, ice, wind whipping dark robes every which way.

He dreams of his hand tightening around a sword hilt.

He dreams of a crown upon his head.

Inka kuuna ndikitá'ána.

It's just barely past dawn, and a young girl with mousy brown hair and scales smattered across her face like freckles is wandering down to the river to collect water.

It's a bit of a long walk, but Lithi doesn't mind—it's preferable to the walk back, when the empty waterskin strapped to her back will be filled with water.

She's a girl forced to grow up too fast, barely in her teens, yet made to take up her mother's armor and flee into exile.

But she doesn't cry. Lithi never cries, and it's a point of pride for her. Her peers seem to be constantly crying, after all. She isn't going to let herself be perceived as a weak little girl. Not after everything her people have been through.

The ground beneath her bare feet becomes squishy, pockmarked with little puddles of water, and she veers right. Her course has taken her too near the slow, swampy portion of the river, and while she longs to go splash about in the swamp, she knows that the water there isn't clear enough to use back at camp. Not to mention, the Codfather wants them to avoid the swamps, for some reason.

She misses the marshes of home. They all do—Cod aren't made to spend all their lives on land.

She knows the swamp misses them, too.

And that reminds her of the folk song that her mother taught her, and her mother's parents taught her, and their parents taught them.

So, while the girl walks, she sings.

The sun is brighting,

Children, come home!

The grass is sighing,

Children, come home!

Where the water's dark and deep

There her children will find sleep

The marsh is calling,

Children, come home!

The frogs are croaking,

Children, come home!

The critters woken,

Children, come home!

Where the water's dark and deep

There her children will find sleep

The marsh is calling,

Children, come home!

The birds are singing,

Children, come home!

The trees are ringing

Children, come home!

Where the water's dark and deep

There her children will find sleep

The marsh is calling,

Children, come home!

The fries are playing,

Children, come home!

The wind is saying,

Children, come home!

Where the water's dark and deep

There her children will find sleep

The marsh is calling,

Children, come home!

The marsh is calling,

Children, come home!

The night is falling,

Children, come home!

Where the water's dark and deep

There her children will find sleep

The marsh is crying,

Children, come home!

She reaches the riverbank as the song comes to a close, singing the last line over and over again, in a myriad of styles and keys.

She shrugs the waterskin off her shoulders, clumsily dips it into the water. The riverbank is uncomfortably dry and sandy between her toes, which long for the mud of home.

Why can't they go to the swamp? Not that she would ever rebel against their Codfather, but she just wants to feel at peace again.

The waterskin isn't totally full, but she draws it up out of the water and ties it closed, arms shaking, straining to hold it up. And now she has to make the long walk back to camp with this heavy load, the leather straps cutting into her shoulder blades with every step.

So maybe she dawdles by the river. Maybe she dips her fingers into the water, swishes it around.

It's that distraction, perhaps, that changes everything.

Because had Lithi not lingered, she wouldn't have seen the glimpse of bright green caught under a rock in the water. She wouldn't have levied up the rock, pulled loose the thing. She wouldn't have held up the sodden leather bag, beautifully embroidered with a bright green cod and a sky blue stag.

And most importantly of all, she wouldn't have opened the bag to find a thin, Oceanic book, nor caught a glimpse of gold shimmering in the silty mud beneath where the bag had lain.

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ghostly-overture-wally · 28 days

Note

Does Wally remember any of his fellow neighbors?

“Uh, well…”

“It’s so

quiet

without them.

Oh well, at least Home is still here”

#ghostly overture #wally darling #wally darling fanart #welcome home fanart #ghostly overture au #ghostly overture wally #wally darling welcome home #welcome home wally #welcome home au #wally welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #welcome home #ghostly wally #wh wally #this is not an April fools post I swear #I just happened to finish it today #this is lore accurate I promise

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ninjigma · 1 year

Text

QuinFox Week Part 7/7 - First / Previous

Day 7: Back to Back + Fix It Track: 'All The Right Moves' - OneRepublic (Spotify / YouTube)

“When you asked me to help those troopers disappear I didn’t think it would lead us here Foxie.”

“Like you haven’t taken us to worse places on less information.”

“Hey, I just know how to show someone a good time.”

“Maybe if I was a parasite of some sort living in these drains,” Fox scoffed.

The two were bickering as they moved, using it to ease the tension. Fox had been stressed for weeks handling this alone, and it had come to a head when Quinlan finally broke and confronted Fox, reminding him that they had agreed to no more life-threatening risks without the other right alongside them. They were to stay side by side, back to back. Putting space between them only left them both more vulnerable.

And so today Fox had shown him, taken him to a run-down apartment attached to a much nicer music studio, and explained it all.

This led the duo to some new conclusions, as Vos’s information suddenly had a lot more pieces of the puzzle to snap together. Some realizations that they needed to act now, as soon as they could.

But for now, they bickered, because discussing how to take down a Sith lord running the entire government when you were a single clone commander and a Jedi not even well trusted by his own peers was a thought that needed a breath. Just some time floating around them in the storm drains they flitted through.

“You are a parasite, one I quite enjoy having around.”

Fox shook his head. “Only you could say something like that and think it is positive.”

“Oh?” Quinlan’s smirk was damned near audible. “Is that because I’m such a sweet romantic?”

“Quinlan Vos,” Fox slowed and turned, headlamp lighting up bright tattoos and twinkling eyes. How he could be so happy still, after everything they’d been through and all they still had to face, Fox didn’t know. But he was grateful for it. “You are an utter sappy romantic with a death wish, a brain cell for taste, and a drop of luck. Sweet is much too docile for how you love, and of everyone, I think I am very qualified to say as much.”

Quinlan’s smile grew wider. Even in the midst of everything, he always offered Fox a smile. And now, almost a year after offering a lot more than just that, he reached forward and took Fox’s hand as well.

“When it comes to me, I think you are definitely a leading expert.”

Fox had a retort, soft in its meaning but sure in its stressed humor, but it was cut short as keen ears picked up other footsteps. Because of course nothing would be simple. Even just walking through drain pipes was going to end as chaotically as they always did for them.

Hunched down and still holding hands, Fox peeked around the corner in the junction. And immediately groaned.

“Remember that gang you’ve been pissing off digging into the Black Sun?”

He could hear Quinlan swear quietly. Because of course that slip-up the other day had the lower Coruscant gangs on the alert for them. There had been no way to avoid it, having to take more risks as so much of Quinlan’s trails had gone dry recently, but it left a little too much information on them out in the light for the Jedi shadow’s liking.

“Fox, you know we’re going to have to-”

“We stay together as long as possible,” Fox cut him off. He wasn’t looking at Quinlan, but there was no immediate protest. It was a general agreeance anyhow, but Fox knew exactly where Quinlan was really going with all of this.

“We have to reach the surface as fast as possible, and you know it is smarter for me to head to the senate-”

“Quinlan, I know!”

More voices, coming from different points around them now. They were moving as quietly as possible, talking in rushed whispers; but Fox’s voice grew a bit colder, angry in how Quinlan reminded him of how there was nothing different he could do. They pulled up short in another junction, this one opening upward and giving them a faster route out. But Fox wasn’t going one step further without making sure Quinlan understood exactly what was happening.

“I know, I’m to find General Koon and you’re going to shadow your ass through the senate to make sure nothing else happens before he and anyone else he can convince can get there. But we stay together as long as possible because I also know you will get yourself in trouble somehow, and you should know that if you die while I’m not there I will drag your spirit back from your Force osik and then kill you myself. Because I am coming back with them, I don’t care what you say about the safety of the chips or anything, you promised.”

Fox had rounded on Quinlan and crowded the taller man against the wall, close enough to still see his pained expression with the filter on his helmet. The gang was circling, and they would most definitely be fighting before they got out of here, so Fox knew there wouldn’t be another time after this point. That they would fight together now, at least one more time before Quinlan went off to shadow a Sith Lord that still made Fox’s chest tighten and nerves ache. Because he knew this was right, but parts of him still felt it was so wrong.

Hands reached out, gently caught the bottom of his helmet and lifted it like it had many times before. His eyes didn’t have time to adjust before soft familiar lips pressed to his and Fox put all of his focus into committing that feeling to memory as he always did, just in case.

“As long as possible. I do promise, with all that I can control Fox,” Quinlan's voice was clearer, close and no longer filtered through the helmet he held just above Fox’s head. “You’ll find me, and I’ll be there. I promise.”

Another soft press, noses bumping lightly. Then it was back as they were, Quinlan replacing the helmet that was so uniquely Fox, and then drawing his saber and a blaster.

“Ready Commander?”

The footsteps were louder, a shout came from the direction behind them and the whole tunnel system seemed to come alive.

“More than you ever seem to be, General.”

Smoothly they moved, back to back as the shots began and they took off down another tunnel, Quinlan trusting Fox to know where to go and Fox trusting Quinlan to guard his back for as long as he could.

Because that was what they did now, two wild souls in search of a peace born of thrill and trust, finding each other by chance and staying together by choice. That if anyone asked Fox he wouldn’t have any better answer than this was his Jedi, his best friend, his trusted partner. That there was at least one person in this whole galaxy they could trust within the cage of their ribs, that they would risk the pain it could cause for the chance at the joy they had found.

Because that is what they did now.

Loved wildly, trusted blindly, and guarded softly, all for the hope of just one more night under the stars together.

#we did it!#It only took a hot minute to learn how to not blow up my computer #but we figured it all out in the end #and now here we are #celebrating these two fools with another piece of unchecked art and no beta writing #it is all a bit messy but we had fun #and what is this? Is it the promise AU?#the one with the clones with lightsabers pieces in it?#maybeeeeeee #promise au #foxquinweek2023 #quinlan vos #clone commander fox #quinfox #foxquin #quinlan x fox #fanart #my art #my writing

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dysco-lymonade · 28 days

Text

Doing really gay shit today like getting a new softball glove.

Oh and I’m gonna write some smutty shit for y’all later too.

#no promises on anything complete today but you’ll get a snippet at least #some April fools smutty inspiration hit #clexa au

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trickstarbrave · 3 months

Text

I am once again stuck thinking abt @mulberrycafe’s evil!Voryn

#I was in the shower thinking abt aus. as always.#and thought abt Steren in other of Bambi’s fics #and then I was like ‘well fool’s prayer wouldn’t wprk—‘#but then. my brain went to Voryn sweet talking Nerevar. promising him a family #and hadn’t neht always wanted a family?#it’s the one think Ayem couldn’t/wouldn’t give him #Voryn saying he wants to stop the corruption of Morrowind. stop the councilors from using Nerevar #and then they can have a family. together.#GRAHHH

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chryzure · 1 month

Text

going absolutely CRAZY abt jester!jacks and princess!chrysi rn. oh my GOD.

#memorie.txt #s.chrysijacks #esp if i consider chrysi being a princess frm another kingdom that’s promised to castor since they were both young #and when she first was scheduled to meet him at the age of 12 #castor got anxious and begged jacks to pretend to be the prince for the day so castor wouldn’t make a fool of himself in front of chrysi #after that chrysi fell in love. & when she found out jacks was actually training to be the jester she was considering marrying someone else #anyway i am drawing them and aughhhh #i need to rewatch the court jester and maybe ill have ANOTHER jester!jacks au. although. hmm. jacks needs to be lame.#okay brb i’m going to go watch that and draw #au.jester

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foolofatook001 · 5 months

Text

“Tell to me, Tam Lin,” she said, “Why came you here to dwell?”

“The Queen of Faeries caught me, when from my horse I fell. And at the end of seven years, she pays a tithe to Hell— I so fair and full of flesh, I fear it be myself.”

("Tam Lin," Fairport Convention version)

Here’s the thing— Martyn knows how this kind of story is supposed to go.

The plucky hero goes into the heart of the enchanted wood, and through a bit of cleverness and the virtue of their pure heart, they rescue the victim from the horrible entangling grasp of whatever evil faerie creature has them. Now, he wouldn’t say he’s got a pure heart, necessarily, but he is certainly clever, and, well— he’s made several forays into the enchanted wood, as it were, and gotten away unscathed each time.

But what do you do when the victim refuses to leave with you?

He’s tried reason. He’s tried logic. He’s tried gifts. He’s tried impassioned pleas. Ren still keeps going back to the Shadow Lady. He keeps insisting he’s not enchanted and that “his Queen” wouldn’t take away his free will, which is unfortunately exactly what someone enchanted and without free will would say, so he can’t really take Ren’s word for it.

He’d love to work with Ren, really he would. (He’d love to get into that very solid and defensible tower with a proper moat and everything, too.)

He just doesn’t want to take on a fae as well.

The Shadow Lady has extended her reach far, and though Martyn knows she’s got limits on her power, the sight of her doing something to Ren to make him harmless to her when he went red— something with enough magic to black out the sun in the middle of the day and nearly knock Martyn to the ground with the pressure— well, he’s pretty sure that speaks for itself. Grian had warned them about her, early on in the game, and though Grian is lost to the red names now, his warning still holds water, at least in Martyn’s mind.

Maybe the problem is that he’s thinking about this as the wrong kind of story. Maybe this isn’t one where the clever hero spirits away the innocent victim from the faerie queen, leaving her to curse his name from afar.

Maybe he’ll have to take up dragon-slaying.

#last life smp #last life fae-u #fool writes #martyn inthelittlewood #like so many of these ren is mr not-appearing-in-this-snippet despite being talked about #I've just been thinking a lot about Martyn in this AU recently #and kind of came to the conclusion that this is sort of the same deal as the PWHAU??? but for last life #like. martyn sees someone who could be an ally but they're “held back” by their Other Ally and a promise that binds them #so they just need to be Saved from their Oppressive Overlord #even if that's not actually what the other person wants #grian & scar and now ren & lizzie #he wants to be the bonny janet to ren's tam lin #tie his headband green and his true liege win from the evil faerie queen #meanwhile ren is out here living out his best medieval knight life #martyn be normal about rendog challenge continuously and regularly failed /lh #also a lot of this is AU-specific because I have ren go red in his boogey kill with skizz #(btw that just happened in the latest fae-u chapter I posted you should totally go read it if you are interested :P)#so lizzie keeps ren on as an ally despite being red because hashtag just faerie things #which shakes things up with martyn because You Don't Do That and also there are other reasons #anyway I think I now have an eventual ending(?) in sight for this au which is exciting #this has been extremely long tag rambles with fool

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ethereii · 1 year

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this is achilles lol. he’s a 23 yr old villain with bad memory, to put it simply :)

he has a quirk but i don’t feel like explaining rn so i’ll just say that it’s a very literal version of blunt trauma lol. he happens to be very pretty and if it weren’t for his criminal history and fun knack for insanity, ppl would probably throw themselves at him

he probably doesn’t even remember who he evidently just beat up.

#achilles #no but ppl have said some sus things to me over this man #pls don’t beg him to kill you #HES NOT GOOD #sigh bnha oc #villain #bnha #bnha oc #i promise you he’s not worth it don’t let good looks fool you #there may be a couple AUs where he’s more sane tho #original character

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rockeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy · 1 year

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no bond greater than the one between a man and his- (speaking into brick-shaped phone) i'm sorry am i hearing you right. his- are you SURE. okay. his...radiation disease

#i gave up on the thing being humanoid its a big Silly now.#eddsworld au #ew edd #i promise that is meant to be a pot of coffee he is holding #ALSO do not be fooled that thing is an annoying ASS HOLE !!!!!!!

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themidnightwholistic · 28 days

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Taking a small break from boops rn

I'm gonna stop reblogging my old posts and just make new ones for every chapter update. To start this off, YOU GET TWO CHAPTERS WOAH

LAB AU AND SPECIAL AU :D

#chonnys charming chaos compendium #cccc fic #chonny jash au #au #fanfic #TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE POST !!#i promise this is no april fools joke. i didnt even register it was today until i was posting the chapter

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necrolexic0n · 24 days

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💥GET PRANKED, BOZO!!💥

you thought April Fools over????? well YOURE the fool……the hoodie gang prank squad attacks when you least expect it 😈

it was worth waiting for this bit when everyone let their april fooliage guards down

((the sans in the middle is nicknamed jam, hes from my BerryTale AU, i promise it is not outer fjdjshd))

#THE IDIOTS!!!! theyre here to bring misery upon their brothers #undertale #undertale au #utmv #utmv au #undertale sans #underfell #underfell sans #post mortem sans #horrortale au #berrytale #berrytale sans #underswap #underswap papyrus #swapfell #swapfell papyrus #fellswap coffee #fellswap gold

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saintobio · 1 month

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sincerely yours. (10)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,

notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3

series masterlist -> episode eleven

“It’s a little weird.”

What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming.

She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be.

Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now?

If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place?

She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you.

But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life?

Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all.

Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that?

“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”

“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”

The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”

I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?”

“Was he like that with you before?”

“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”

To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty.

“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.”

Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.

“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”

“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point.

Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?”

The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.”

“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”

The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.”

Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”

“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”

“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.”

He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.”

As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet.

The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.

Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”

Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”

“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused.

To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?”

Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons.

Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare.

— —

You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction.

To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.

You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband?

She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married.

Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.

Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else.

Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.

If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.

Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu.

You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal.

It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her.

As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman.

And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.

Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own.

Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.

If only you could be like her.

As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.

“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.”

A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?

“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse.

“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”

Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line.

“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots.

The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.”

Oh… “He bought more than one?”

Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony.

“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”

Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.

This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi.

There was no you in that vision anymore.

The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.

You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband?

Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one.

At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free.

Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them.

You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest.

Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?

“Giddy up!”

Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.

My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy.

Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.

“Ah!”

Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part.

“Willow!”

You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.

“Nooo! Willow, no!”

Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.

You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell.

“Willow!”

Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness!

You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all.

That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon.

— —

“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.

“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”

He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”

“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”

…

“Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.

“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”

“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”

“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!��

“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!”

The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension.

“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.”

You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”

Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you.

With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.”

To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place.

“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.”

Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy.

“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?”

There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.

But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat.

Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.

“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.”

Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.”

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”

“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…”

Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest.

“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.”

Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind.

It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right?

You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again.

You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself.

As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.”

That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever?

Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy.

The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital.

So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you?

“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed.

Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.”

You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son.

Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?

If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined.

And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse.

Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself?

The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage.

You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family.

Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight.

“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.”

You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?”

The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it.

“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.”

Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else.

Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired.

“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?”

She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.”

“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?”

“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.”

You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists.

Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there.

And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi.

“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”

You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera?

You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet.

“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.”

Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.”

Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life.

Both choices had no happy endings.

— —

When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind.

Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were?

He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse.

“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!”

“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?”

Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him?

According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them.

And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you.

Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in.

How sickeningly sweet.

At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality.

It was out of love that he let you go.

You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too.

Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife.

You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore.

So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses?

She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you.

He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off.

And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries.

This woman was all he needed.

But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider.

— —

The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important.

Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it?

You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman.

Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you.

How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it?

Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar.

How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life?

Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate?

God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third?

You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing.

“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions.

It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him.

“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”

Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you?

“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.”

Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”

You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget?

As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?”

“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart. “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.”

“Y/N.”

“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”

“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.”

“But—”

“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”

— —

It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore.

Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now.

He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway.

As for you, well…

“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?”

He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”

Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire.

These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor.

A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon?

Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news.

“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.”

Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?”

By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy.

“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son.

“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.”

Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?”

Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.”

Monaco? Why would you be there?

Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?”

“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”

No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself?

Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here.

Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth.

“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?

“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”

How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over?

“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”

Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now?

Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces?

Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.”

He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.

Yet none of it was given.

And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi?

#series: sincerely yours #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo angst #jjk angst

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