#i know ppl don't mean it in a bad way but it still feels like sonadow is just the butt of the joke here

[grvait]

more old art!! featuring theo and my human harley fan design!! RUN THEODORE RUN (he's cooked)

im gonna talk about chapter 4 under here so only click if ur ok with spoilers! also its a huge yapfest. like HUUGE. i just want to voice my opinions about prototype because i've seen ppl sort of miss the point of what happened at the end of the chapter

I LOVED CHAPTER 4! IT WAS SO COOL!! i was sooo worried but im glad it turned out good. rip pianosaurus tho..

tldr (for the bunch of paragraphs where I talk abt prototype)

prototype being ollie is deranged because it means he was terrorizing the toys of safe haven on purpose for the fun of it when he could have killed them at any time. he also created an extremely close emotional bond with poppy for OVER A DECADE just to tear it all away from her at the end and tell her it was meaningless (he then proceeds to taunt her over the phone abt it). bro is LITERALLY TROLLING

you cant tell me that final scene w the "ive got something special in mind. i prepared it just for you, and this time you'll never want to leave." isnt some tom and jerry shit

ABT PROTOTYPE REVEALING HIMSELF AS OLLIE... (the long explanation)

we ALL knew he was ollie, but i don't think people are seeing the point of this reveal. it wasn't about revealing himself to us the player, it's about the implications that arise from it. he had been playing both sides for 10+ YEARS. that's deranged enough but not even CLOSE to the end of it

as ollie he had emotionally supported poppy in her lowest moments (as heard in the ollie and poppy tape). this tape also insinuates that (at least around the time it was recorded) the two of them called frequently, possibly every night. he wasn't just pretending to be everyone's ally, he was PRETENDING TO BE THEIR CLOSEST FRIEND THAT THEY COULD VENT TO 😭 he heard this poor girl sob into the phone and tell him about how she felt her humanity being taken from her, AND HE KEPT UP THE CHARADE AND COMFORTED HER, KNOWING THIS PATH HAD BAD INTENTIONS

what's worse than all of that, though, is that him being ollie means that at any time in the last 10 years he could have used the persona to force his way into safe haven. AT ANY TIME HE COULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL. HE COULD SIMPLY USE THE OLLIE VOICE AND ASK THEM TO OPEN THE DOOR. why is this worse, you ask? because HE WAS LITERALLY TERRORIZING THEM ON PURPOSE.

think about the note in the cart/cave area. a toy from safe haven writes that prototype was right outside the door the night before, he'd gotten past the traps and was just tapping on the wall and staring. they said after he was gone they still felt they could hear it. HE IS LITERALLY BEING SCARY ON PURPOSE???? LEGIT TRAUMATIZING THEM AND FOR NO REASON. HE COULD GET IN THERE, HE'S SIMPLY CHOOSING TO MAKE THEIR LIVES HELL

so thats crazy.. BUT ALSO THE ENDING? in the poppy and ollie tape he says "im right here, poppy. for you. i'll always be here." AND AT THE END OF THE GAME, WHEN POPPY ASKS WHAT HE DID WITH OLLIE, HE SAYS THAT. you know what that means? that means he said that shit to her ALL THE TIME. clearly only the two of them would be familiar with the phrase which is why after he said it, she immediately knew he was ollie the whole time

i feel bad for poppy. she ran off but she was valid for that. all her friends from safe haven are dead, the only ones left are the player, kissy and ollie, but she soon realizes that ollie is WORSE than dead. he is LITERALLY HER ENEMY. the thousands of conversations they had, probably hundreds of times she vented and told him her plans and discussed her life with him? ALL FOR NOTHING. any time she thought she was winning the past 10 years was a lie, she was ALWAYS LOSING because he was GETTING ALL THE INFO FROM THEM. she genuinely never had a chance and i think she realized that

in her dialogue you can tell she's grieving ollie (obviously he IS prototype, but i think she's grieving the thought of him). saying "you lied to me" to the prototype of all people is absurd (considering he's done far worse than lie) but when you think about how she feels, it makes sense.

also the part where she said "this isn't right". again, a weird thing to say to him of all people, but if you put yourself in her shoes she's grieving the friend she thought she had, and she's struggling to grapple with the fact that it all meant nothing. somewhere in her mind she believes "ollie" as a personality is there somewhere, because how could someone be that close with you and mean none of it? she thinks that voicing this pain he's inflicted will change his mind, but it won't. and that's why it's genuinely really sad. that's why she asks if there was ever an ollie. i don't think she meant it literally, and i don't think his answer was literal either. she didn't mean "were you a mf named ollie once" she meant it like "was our friendship ever genuine?" which makes his response both heartbreaking and interesting.

so not only is her world shattered now, most of her friends are dead and the one who wasn't turned out to be her opp, but now he's TAUNTING HER OVER THE PHONE AND THREATENING HER. nice one... (loved the quip after she ran off btw. that shit was hilarious. like bro u made her crash out and went "some friend, huh?" YOU CANT SAY THAT BRO)

anyway think of it from her perspective: everyone you knew is gone, and soon the only 2 people that remain will be too. you can't run, or hide, or do anything. he WILL find you, and when he does he'll lock you away FOREVER where NOBODY WILL BE LEFT TO SAVE YOU. I WOULD RUN TOO.............. plus her running off probably led him away so.. she saved us sorta.

ALL THAT TO SAY THAT I REALLY LIKE THE OLLIE REVEAL FOR REASONS FAR BEYOND A SIMPLE TWIST. him being ollie for over a decade raises many many questions, and suggests very dark things.

hes crazy and the fact he did a monologue means he knows he won. he wouldn't have spilled the beans otherwise...

[pumpkinpenguin]

okay so i was talking to my sister abt this but i'm kind of heated over it now and must share it with the 10 of u that i keep in my echo chamber

i love evil 2012 donnie aus. he's such a creechur and i think he should be able to commit crimes. as a treat.

however.

i HATE evil donnie aus where he's emotionless and/or turns on his brothers.

donnie is emotionally driven and he doesn't hide what he's feeling. excitement, anger, sadness; if he's feeling it you'll know he's feeling it. a lot of his mistakes/the trouble he gets into is because he's having an emotional outburst of some kind or he's thinking with his heart over his head. he's also incredibly anxious and high strung. if something goes wrong it could ruin his whole day. if donnie were to be evil and not hold back anymore, he'd be the most unhinged villain ever with emotions that switch faster than a spirit box surfing through radio channels, and they'd be intense as well. this could be said for rise donnie as well, to be honest, and there's a conversation to be had there about autistic characters who are awkward and standoffish getting turned into emotionless and stoic villains, but that's not what i'm here to talk about atm.

when it comes to why he would snap, i think it would probably have to do with feeling rejected by humanity. donnie didn't ask to be the way that he is, a mutant turtle, but he's punished for it anyway. it's probably hard for him to rationalize. a big part of his character is his insecurity about being a mutant, which is also part of the reason i think he tries so hard to get april's affections. i DO NOT condone his behavior towards april, but it does kind of prove my point here. april rejecting him, to him, confirms that he'll never be accepted by humans. again, not april's fault at all and obviously she doesn't care that donnie is a mutant, she just doesn't like him that way. but like i said, donnie is emotionally driven and it would be very easy to spiral into that line of thinking. some people say that his brothers not appreciating him or asking too much of him would make him snap, hence why they have evil donnie turn against his bros. but i don't think thag would make him evil? to donnie, his brothers are all he has. they annoy him and pick on him and get a little too entitled to his tech skills, but i doubt he'd ever be motivated to hurt them. and if, IF, by some small chance he'd turn on his bros, leo is going first LMAO

raph teases donnie a lot and says mean things sometimes, but at the end of the day, i feel like he's still closer to raph than leo. not only that, but leo is one of the main contributors to donnie's stress. there's a problem? donnie, fix it. make some invention for the team. work harder. don't you know we're all counting on you? you know how much this means to splinter. don't even get me started on the metalhead situation. leo is on screen more often than not telling donnie what he can and can't do. not to mention he can be kind of a hypocrite sometimes. he judges donnie for his obsession with april, but he's just as obsessed with karai, more often than not putting his brothers in danger for her time and time again. i hate leorai with a passion but i cannot deny that it gets brought up in the show frequently. even if you ignore the romantic implications, i would still argue that leo is a hypocrite in this situation. also, through subtext, we can kind of infer that donnie and raph are closer than donnie and leo. i also feel like raph gets got first in these aus because there's an inherent bias against his character within the fandom, but i have a video essay in the works for that.

but again, if anyone were to be the victim of villain donnie's wrath, it'd be humanity. ESPECIALLY after the don vizioso thing (which is ANOTHER thing leo is hypocritical about??? "meh meh meh donnie killing ppl is bad ur stooping to their level meh meh meh" *literally TWO OR THREE EPISODES PRIOR decapitates shredder and carves his skull from his helmet* ?????!?!?!??!!?) he'd grow frustrated with how he can't do normal things. he's punished for something he has no control over. he feels alienated. why not give them the monster people think he is?

obviously ppl can write what they want, but so can i lmao. i usually don't care if something is OOC (it's funny a lot of times tbh), especially in something like a villain au, but when it comes to the turtle bros hurting each other?? that's the one thing i CANNOT stand 💀 of course i'm not telling ppl to stop writing it, but these are just my thoughts! lol i tend to avoid those fics/aus like the plague bc of what i'm personally comfortable with but!!!! i can see how they're fun to explore

i'll probably reblog later with an evil donnie WIP i haven't touched in three months when i have my laptop on me 👍

[yellowvixen]

"Don't look up sonic x shadow, you'll regret it." "Imagine the shock of kids looking up the new sonic game and finding sonadow." "Go look up sonic x shadow, I promise you'll find totally normal images >:)"

What is wrong. With all of you. Why is it a gotcha? Why is it a trick to get people to find sonadow fanart? Why is it bad for kids to find art of cartoon hedgehogs gay kissing? It's 2024, have we really not moved on from the "wow aren't sonic fans freaks for gay shipping their little cartoon animals" mindset? Come on. Let's put down the homophobia now

[seventh-district]

again and again i find myself lamenting that audio roleplay isn't taken more seriously by some people. like yeah, they often have a romantic element, and by nature they usually directly involve/address the listener- and i totally get that those things aren't to everyone's taste. no art or entertainment is universally appealing, and that's okay! but.. it still makes me a lil sad that the "cringe" reputation of asmr/audio rp precedes it. there's a whole lot of talent and creativity being poured into these audios by so many people that i feel goes unrecognized and/or disrespected simply due to the medium that the stories are being told through.

[goldentigerfestival]

I love the vocal nuance in this exchange, but also posting this for my differences posts because this is one of the changes that infuriates me the most. Yuri didn't threaten Ioder, did not threaten him with a weapon, and just said he'd punch him in a lazy, half joking voice (half joking as in, he really doesn't want to hear that - that's just his way of saying so; but that's not the voice of someone who is super angry and threatening).

My other huge grievance is that this is a recurring issue between them in the dub. Yuri is pretty much always vocally rude to Ioder. Ioder has done nothing to wrong him or anyone and has only ever done good for the people where he's able to.

Yet despite Ioder being nothing but sincere, honest and polite with Yuri, in fact even happy to see him here and there, dub Yuri is outright tonally rude to him leading right up this scene where he threatens Ioder in this dark voice. Meanwhile he's actually just supposed to be… lazily telling Ioder he'll punch him in his Yuri Lowell way of saying "I don't want to hear that".

The dub really just wanted to turn Yuri into this dark edgelord and I hate that for my goofy, silly boy.

[daz4i]

i know aging isn't the end of the world and 24 isn't that old and life isn't a race etc etc etc. however,

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

this is a very venty post don't mind me :D

that nintendo direct was so horrible.

it was literally like 80 percent remakes and remasters.

never in my life have i seen an announcement video exist just to say "every game you've ever known since the 90s is being remade/remastered, sorry, we ran out of originality".

literally like all the video game market is anymore is remakes and the movie industry is just as bad.

the nso releases are fine because they're not like, remakes taking up full game slots. they're old games that are being made accessible and that's great... but there's no need to remake this many games when they can do that. remakes used to be rare. remember stuff like the wii u shop and stuff? with all the games they had on those things? now it's a tiny selection and everything else is a remake :/

also I feel like a lot of new rpgs are just like... lowkey fe knockoffs now instead of original rpgs.

i'm happy for like... two existing remakes, but one of them is mario rpg which people wanted waaaaAAAAAYYYY before the remake and remaster era, and the other is baten kaitos which im not actually happy about remaster-wise (the updated ui is trash, they took out very specific charms of the original ui), just happy that it will get more recognition/notice from people since it was never popular.

they also completely removed the english voice acting which like okay yeah it wasn't always that great but the voices fit perfectly and it wasn't as bad as fans meme on it for! it just sounded like they were talking through a tube and that was actually the worst part of it lol.

someone suggested to me that they may have just lost the data for it, but idk. i wish they'd just admit that somehow if it was the case, because it bugs me that the english audio is just completely gone when ultimately i really liked it. i wanted the game to be accessible to newer players, sure, but i also wanted the english audio there. ig that's because i grew up with it and i liked it, but it's still such a bummer for me!

paper mario being put on the nso and tyd getting a whole remaster does make me sad tho bc it feels like they're leaving the original in the dust when it was so good. if you're gonna do tyd, at least do them both.

good for innersloth though, i'm sure they never imagined being on a nintendo direct. they're the real winners here.

[skrunksthatwunk]

"hey HEY what do you have in your mouth!!! sit SIT. SPIT IT OUT GIVE IT—" but instead of talking to a dog it's me about my parents using the word overstimulated as nothing but another way to make fun of our anxious traumatized dog for doing things they find inconvenient or unreasonable or illogical (and, by extension, everyone who uses the term for legitimate reasons). (WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM!!!!!!!!!! AND ALSO WHERE THE FUCK DID THEY HEAR IT BECAUSE I DON'T USE IT AROUND THEM On Purpose BECAUSE I KNOW THEY'D BE ANNOYING ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

[sheerioswifties]

.

[fxckinemo]

once again can't sleep because I'm out of real weed and alcohol just makes me cry about my ex best friend if im not distracted enough

[babybearnini]

Hate that my insurance is now not wanting to pay for one of my inhalers bc it's not for emergencies and it's for maintenance like what do you mean

[gibbearish]

Congrats on sending that application!

THANK UUUUUU

[chuuzmii]

i honestly personally dont care too much about the whole "coparenting" debate but like i do feel like it sets apart people who DID watch the show and actually paid attention to what was on their screens and the people who didnt watch more than S7 or clearly just never retained any information the show gave us because...

Didnt Buck take care of Chris basically the entire time Eddie was in the hospital after the gunshot? am i hallucinating? like didnt we get this dad ass montage of Buck taking care of Christopher while Eddie was in the hospital? So wouldnt that mean that yes he has cooked for chris he has cleaned for chris he took christopher to school he would have to know christophers allergies because he was HIS CARETAKER!

but lets just ignore that part wasn't there a joke where they were at a call and the dad was like "you're always making me the bad cop!" and chim goes "can't you both be the good cop?" and both eddie and buck say "no." Clearly showing that buck isnt just a funtime uncle like yall are saying cus if he was wouldn't he not have to be the bad cop?

Also Eddie wrote him into his WILL! yall can say "oh you guys don't understand how this works and blah blah" all you want but the fact of the matter is he chose that man over his FAMILY... it's not like pepa and isabel were anything like his mother and father and yet he still left Chris to Buck. Buck lost that mans child in a natural disaster and he STILL left him in his care the next day. He even looks that man in the eyes and COMPARES Buck and christophers relationship to his and christophers. like guys please..

i think there is definitely something to be said about how sometimes Buck gets more praise for the things he does with Christopher or ppl almost pushing Eddie to the side of his own family but the way to combat that isnt acting like you can't see what is quite literally in ur face being shown on screen😭

[rayroseu]

You know what's sick as hell about the design of the Briar Senates??? It's that their design mirrors the weapon of the Draconias 😭✨

I know they're getting flak rn bcs they feel like "boomers who's against any progress because they value toxic tradition" but i don't really think they're like... entirely evil lol or the root of every bad thing that happened in Malleus'/Lilia's life (though im side eyeing them as one of the perpetrators still lol)

Tbh, removing them would also cause more harm (just some social issues inside the fae society tbh) than good imo, (I know many ppl say this bcs they think removing the Senates would make it possible for the peace between human and faes, but the thing is, the Senates aren't the only group that thinks this way, almost the entirety of Briar Valley does lol so forcibly removing them now would only come off as "Malleus forcing "human ideals" on the faes just because he has spent 4 years with the humans"(plus is the understanding between humans and faes truly achieved if you try to silence one group(even if that group is kinda disagreeable with anything human related lol), plus realistically the faes would trust their fellow faes first rather than some humans,

so for me, Briar Senates doesn't give off the vibe of toxic old people who drags others down in their toxic practices (while that can be an accurate description i feel like it generalizes too much about their behaviour), rather than that, Briar Senates feels more like thorns, like thorns that surrounds Briar Valley, they're not exactly harmful unless you go against them, but ultimately they're still protection for Briar Valley.

Which makes it fitting that their design has a similarity with the Draconia's weapon, they're the thorns that protects the Draconias, even if it means sheltering them.

And, tbh, if the Senates other job is to ensure Draconias lives, they're kinda doing a "decent job"??? If we can assume through Maleficia's (and Malleus' case), since we didnt hear about her leaving the Senate's side, she managed to survive for so long, unlike Meleanor😭 Also could explain why they're so enraged when Lilia arrived with the news that Meleanor died and why they hated the weak bcs what would weakness could protect JJDSJD Kinda wish their hatred against Lilia wasnt that he was a weak bat fae, but rather they doubled down on the fact he failed protecting Meleanor, imagine if Gen. Lilia wasnt as great in magic as the fae nobles were, yet he still managed to earn a position beside the Princess, all that hard work only to fail at the most crucial time, it wouldve make sense in the Senates' side to say, "Meleanor shouldnt have appointed him" (because "he's weak from the start")

oh additionally, this is just my assumption, bcs I felt like the way the Senates recoiled when Lilia hatched the egg was kinda... random?? so this is my made up reason lol Remember, the Senates were adamant that Maleficia should only be the one to hatch the egg because she's a Draconia, but Lilia did it and he's not a Draconia, What if because Lilia hatched the egg, it also affected the development of Malleus?? Like maybe for instance, it affected Malleus' lifespan, maybe he still lives more than one thousand years but he won't live for another thousand years like a pure Draconia because he's been hatched by Lilia as opposed to who they wanted it to be, which is Maleficia, OF COURSE Lilia hatching the egg is heaps better than Malleus dying before being born, but this is just my auto thoughts regarding the random hate reaction the Senates did when Lilia hatched Malleus lol

Interestingly, the placement of the stone of Draconia against the thorns (of the Senates) can also be hinted at their relationship with them??? In Meleanor's case, her stone is on top of the thorns, which may indicate that she's not under the Senate's commands or that its just telling she just lived distantly from the Senates, most importantly her stone is bigger than the thorns which may tell the fact that the Senates worships her because she's powerful and greater than them, and she's not someone who can be trapped/ordered around within the Senates. But, tragically, in Malleus' case, his stone is under the thorns, like its telling that he's under the Senates protection at all cost and his stone is little compared to Meleanor's because he's still young.

I also have a theory that the Senates are part of Briar Valley's land, like its been canonically said that they're the dead faes of Briarland, which makes think that their death is similar to the death of Conall from Maleficent 2, when Conall was buried, his body literally morphed to the land, which makes me think this is how the Senates used to be buried, when they die, they become one with the land, that's why you can't just remove them, when they are literally the Lands of Briar Valley,,,, get it lol

Though this is making me think that if this is the case then Maleficia's city,,, if the Senate's presence are the strongest there bcs that's where they're nearly buried, does that mean around Black Scale Castle is just lowkey a graveyard.... Is that why Halloween is special for Briar Valley bcs they have close ties/respect for the dead and Halloween is essentially about honoring the dead 😭✨

Off topic, but maybe the thorns part of the Draconia's staff may also tell about their age. Notice how Meleanor's staff has 3 twists which may tell that she's atleast 300~ years old, (if each twists signifies a century), while Malleus' staff only has one twist on its thorns which is accurate considering he's only 178 years old (one century).

If this is true, I'm kinda curious about Maleficia's staff... does that mean hers will be convered in thorns (she needs at least 7 twists (7 centuries~ and more) there on her staff 😭✨)

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 

and then satoru wins. 

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 

and then you remember. 

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don��t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do. 

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 

his breath hitches. 

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort. 

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow. 

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 

finally, for once, you’re enough. 

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [POGUELANDIA] - FEVER DREAM

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[3.7k] It's been a week since you and your friends were dropped into the middle of nowhere. But the self-proclaimed 'Poguelandia' has served as a break for you all from the drama and chaos back home, but it may also present chances for growth and changes, good and bad...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, kie x reader drama (again), omission, mentions of self-doubt, allusions to suicidal thoughts (if you squint), mentions of injuries

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I think I finally found my motivation again so here's chapter 1/3 of Poguelandie before we get into season 3 of SVN, also, taglist ppl, ik it's been acting funky for a minute so I'll see if it works better in the comments, also new taglist people, please use the taglist form in my pinned post to be added, it makes it a lot easier to keep track of new people who want to be added so i don't have to go through my replies and mentions and blah blah blah

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

THE SALTY OCEAN BREEZE WHIPPED THROUGH YOUR HAIR AS YOU SURVEYED THE VAST EXPANSE OF THE DESERTED ISLAND, Poguelandia as you’d all claimed it. 

It’d been a week since you and your friends washed up on the shore of the unclaimed piece of land — carving your symbol into a tree and crafting a flag that swayed in the wind. Sure, a chicken in a coconut bra, smoking a J in Crocs wasn’t the most intimidating “stay off of our land” flag but it was something.

You were planted in the sand, next to your dwindling bonfire, watching your friends surf in the water using the poorly constructed boards the guys had made — unreliable pieces of driftwood and lots of twine apparently made an oddly useful flotation device.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to join in on the festivities. Your personal island nurse, Cleo, basically forbade you from entering the water, claiming the salt water would only soften the scar tissue she’d burned into your leg with a heated knife she’d held over a raging bonfire. The smell of burning flesh and the pain of the scorching metal against your thigh only served as a distant nightmare, making you cringe at the memory. 

“Hey,” A voice appeared next to you, looking up to find Kiara’s bikini clad frame looking down at you, brown curls dripping with sea water. “How’re you doing?” Over the last week, you two had found some common ground. You didn’t expect things to be normal right away, or possibly ever again. But you were glad you could still talk to her. “Need some company?”

You shrugged, a longing smile on your face as you glanced at the rest of your peers fooling around in the water before turning back to her. “I’m doin’ okay, but feel free to join me. …Or did my nurse send you over here to make sure I don’t sneak into the water?” You asked, playfully squinting your eyes as Kie took a seat next to you, digging her feet into the sand.

The girl laughed lightly, head dipping down as the lowering sun illuminated the highlights in her hair while casting an orange hue over the deserted island. “No Nurse Cleo supervision here. Promise.” But the humor in her words didn’t seem genuine, almost like she had something to say. As if something else was on the tip of her tongue. “...How do you feel about her, by the way?” Kiara asked quietly, avoiding your eyes as she played with the grains of sand — letting the materials slip through her fingers.

“Who? Cleo?” You asked, a lopsided smile on your face.

“Yeah, like…do you trust her?” Kie asked, finally meeting your eyes. “Do you think she even really trusts us? I mean, she said it herself — we’re just her better option.”

You simply shrugged, making a face of uncertainty. “I don’t know…I don’t think she meant it like that.” You defended the girl. “I wouldn’t say I fully trust her just yet, but I do think she’s genuinely on our side.” You told your friend, watching as she drew her lips into a thin line, nodding almost as if she expected your answer but still wasn’t satisfied with it.

“...And you don’t find it weird that she just decided to up and run off with six strangers?” Kiara prodded, tone growing increasingly more confused, bordering annoyance. “And then saying she wants a cut of the gold? Like, come on...”

You couldn’t help but chuckle out of mild disbelief. “You don’t find half of the things we’ve done weird? Running from the cops even though we’re innocent? And, like, one-hundred other things that don’t make sense?” You countered, shaking your head. “And her wanting a cut of the gold isn’t crazy, in my opinion.” You shrugged, leaning back on your arms, fiddling with a leaf between your fingers. “I mean, she saved half of our lives. And she’s the main reason we made it off that ship. Without her help, who knows what could’ve happened…”

“I think you’re giving her too much credit.” Kie scoffed, standing from her spot and brushing herself off. You couldn’t help but make a face of offense at words, hearing the clear disagreement and disdain in her tone.

“...I’d probably be dead without her, Kie.” You spoke slowly, eyeing the girl as she paced smally on her feet, rolling her eyes as you continued speaking. “If anything, she deserves more credit than we’ve given her.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that we can’t trust everyone just because they help us. And I think being on this island is making everyone forget the fact that she could still be a threat to us-”

“But she isn’t. She’s stuck here, too-”

“She chose to be.”

“Exactly.” You quipped, tone short. “She chose to come with us and be stranded here. We all did.” You put it simply. “Look, I know we should be weary of who we let around us, but you’re not even giving her a chance.”

At your words, Kiara fell silent, running a tense hand through her mess of wet curls. “None of you get it.” She sighed under her breath, shaking her head side to side. “When she screws us over, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Was the last thing she offered in response to you before walking off into the trees, disappearing. 

You simply shook your head — what could Cleo have done for Kie of all people to have such a disdain for her? Distrust was one thing and that was reasonable. But it was clear that the island girl put a sour taste in Kiara’s mouth. Just days ago, Kiara brought up how much you’d been hanging out with the girl in question, making a joke about being replaced. But maybe there wasn’t as much humor there as you’d initially thought…

“Hey, where’d you go?” Kiara asked, looking up at you from where she was digging holes near the shore, looking for turtle hatches.

“Banana Leaf hunting. Cleo says they're good for healing and she was gonna try to make a bandage for my leg.” You replied, shielding your eyes from the sun as you limped closer to her.

“Well, when you find one, make sure it’s big enough for both of you.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. I just figured it’d be easier if it was bigger considering you and her are like attached at the hip now.” She muttered, side-eyeing you with a slight smile that let you know her words were lighthearted.

“Oh, whatever. Don’t be like that. I just don’t want her to feel like an outcast.” You scoffed with a playful smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Just know you can’t replace me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

…Did Kiara feel that Cleo was a threat to the group…or to her? Caution or jealousy? And if it was the latter, was it platonic or something deeper? You guessed that would always be the question now…

“CAN YOU FEEL IT NOW?” JJ asked for the fifth time as his index and middle finger pressed into the skin below your knee — wide, blue eyes boring into your own. The boy was still slightly damp from surfing as the two of you sat under the shade of a palm tree — your other five friends some feet away, laughing around a bonfire as the sun finally set.

“Yes, I can feel it, JJ.” You reassured the boy once more, rolling your eyes in playful annoyance. “I’m not going to lose my leg, you know.”

“Cleo said to make sure that your leg isn’t cold or discolored and to make sure you still had feeling. I’m just following the doctor’s orders.” He told you, continuing to press his fingers up the length of your leg. “Especially when the doctor has a machete and an attitude problem…” He muttered.

At this, you sighed, throwing your head back. “Ughhh. You too?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow as JJ made a face of confusion —sitting up straighter. 

“What do you mean “me too”?”

“Why is everyone giving her such a hard time?” You asked, tilting your head.

“Who? Cleo?” JJ inquired, sitting down across from you and dusting the sand off of his hands.

“Yes.” You answered. “I mean, she saved our asses when she didn’t have to. And she hasn’t given us any reason to not at least try to trust her. We’ve been stranded for a week. If she had some trick up her sleeve, I’m sure she would’ve used it by now. We don’t really know her and she doesn’t really know us. She’s not as rude as she may come off once you get to know her. But you guys won’t talk to her.” You defended.

“...Well, I was just joking, Princess. Cleo’s good in my book, she even taught me some knife tricks.” JJ chuckled, surprised at how you jumped to the girl’s defense. “And I’m not sure what you mean.” He continued, face contorting in confusion. “John B and Sarah seem pretty cool with her and I’m pretty sure Pope has a thing for her, even if he doesn’t know it. And Kie… hasn’t said much to her, I don’t think.” He pondered, seeming to connect the dots. “Did Kie say somethin’? Is that it?”

“I don’t know…” You started, twiddling with your fingers. “She’s suspicious of her, I guess. She thinks Cleo’s only with us because we’re her best bet and because she’s still holding out on the hope that we’ll get the gold and she basically thinks we’re all being blind to the possibility of Cleo being a threat. And she came at me so… aggressive about it. It was weird…”

“...Are you sure Kie doesn’t have another issue with you?” JJ asked, squinting his eyes from the emerging moonlight as he looked at you. “I know girl drama is usually lowkey.”

You met his eyes as his words registered in your mind. It was at this moment that you realized JJ still had no idea of the real reason for the crumbling of your life-long friendship with Kiara. Or rather the reason for it. And you were questioning whether to speak now or forever hold your peace…

“I noticed you guys kind of seemed off for a while. But I figured it was just something small.” 

“Uh, yeah…” You trailed off, avoiding your boyfriend’s eyes. “Something like that.” You shrugged, jutting your bottom lip out.

“I’m sure you guys will work it out.” He shrugged mindlessly, rubbing a hand up and down your calf. “You always do.”

“...I don’t know, I think it’s a bit different this time…” You said solemnly. It was the first real wave of emotions that you’d felt about the situation. Kiara was in love with you. And your friendship with her would never be the same. It was a strange, unwelcomed thought. Kiara was like a sister to you. To experience the fall of your relationship with her had a particularly rough sting to it. 

“What makes you say that?” JJ asked, pinching his eyebrows together. You didn’t respond immediately, eyes flicking up to his then back down to where they were focused on his fingers rubbing circles into your leg. “Hey,” JJ called to gain your attention, your eyes finally locking with his own. “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”

You shook your head with vigor, pinching your lips together before speaking. “No, no, I can’t. Not this time.”

“Baby-”

“JJ, I can’t.” You said exhaustedly. You wanted to tell him so bad, to get the weight and confusion off of your shoulders. But it wasn’t your place. “It’s Kie’s business. It’s not my place-”

“It is.” He tried, clearly growing frustrated. “Whatever happened is clearly affecting you both. That makes it your place and I’m sure Kie will get over you telling me-”

“It’s not that simple.” You snapped, expression softening when you realized how aggressively low your tone had dropped. Sighing, you continued. “I’m sorry, okay? But it really isn’t that easy, J. It’s really…weird and complicated and-” You stopped your ranting when JJ leaned forward, moving the hand that was on your leg to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay.” He assured you, offering a light smile before pecking you softly on the lips --- the taste of sea salt lingering faintly. “I don’t want to make things worse between you two, okay? I get it.” He told you, but you could see that he was still, if not more, curious about it now. You realized you may have put yourself into a tighter space than you were sitting in before. Which would only make it harder to get out of. 

NIGHT HAD COMPLETELY FALLEN BY NOW. It was so weird how the days seemed to go by much faster. It was like there was never enough time in the day now to do anything. Where it seemed like the sun never went down when you were being shot at, chased, and kidnapped — it seemed like there was nothing but the moon and stars now.

The boys were starting another fire, since yours had gone out, while you and the other girls lounged around — watching them twirl sticks and blow into the smoke. Eventually, John B sighed, side-eyeing the four of you. “Since none of you want to help, can you at least go and find more firewood? Or something to eat? These fish are only gonna last us tonight.”

“The sun’s gone down.” Sarah quipped, a quizzical brow raised. “Can’t exactly fish in the dark.”

“No, but you can hunt.” JJ retorted, shooting the girl a grimace from his place in front of the growing fire.

“Do we look like hunters to you?” Cleo shot back, twirling her knife around her fingers. “Plus, I thought we agreed the woods were off limits. Tigers, bears, and all that?”

“And there’s no reason to go right now.” You added, adjusting your legs where you were sitting in the sand to be more comfortable. “We have tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…”

“Normally, I’d agree.” Pope sighed, looking up at the sky where the clouds that did still remain, there but faint, loomed. “But I’m eighty-percent sure there’s a storm coming. All the birds and whatever else will eat all the plants and fruits and they’ll be less fish because of the falling tide. And who knows how long it’s going to last…”

“...Do you guys think we should start looking for ways to call for help?” Kie offered meekly. "It's been a week and I don't think anyone's looking for us..."

“And how would we do that?” JJ asked.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, sitting up straighter. “This can’t be all there is to this island. There has to be something — a house, an abandoned shack — anything. But…we can’t stay here forever.”

“It’s only been a week, Kie.” JJ dismissed, tending to the fire. He didn’t seem to be fond of the topic of conversation, almost avoidant of it. “I’m sure someone will come soon enough for you.”

“...Why are you acting like that?” She asked, an expression of offense on her face.

“Like what?” He sighed, finally looking at the girl.

“Like you don’t want to leave.”

...A silence fell over the group, looks exchanged between one another as JJ stared tensely at the fire, jaw clenched. It was an unspoken topic among you all — whether you were going to be rescued at some point. Whether you wanted to be. Some people had been taking more kindly to the newfound freedom of island life — you, JJ, Cleo…

The others…it seemed like they couldn’t wait until someone came to swoop you all up. It was reasonable, you understood. But going to Kildare would be like getting thrown back to hell after getting a backstage pass to heaven.

“Why don’t we go see if the trees have started producin’ again? Hm?” Cleo broke the ice, standing up and looking at you, Kiara, and Sarah. “Pope’s right. If a storm’s comin’, best to stock up. A little wander in the dark neva hurt nobody. Come on.” She urged, outstretching a hand to you to help you up that you went to take.

“Hey, no,” JJ protested, eyes fleeting between you and Cleo. “Your leg-”

“I’m fine, J.” You dismissed, using Cleo’s assistance to stand up, mindful to keep your leg off the ground. “I can’t just sit around until someone shows up to save us.”

“I know, it’s just-” He struggled to find words. “Can’t you wait until you’ve healed?” He asked, eyes pleading.

“JJ,” You started, leaning on Cleo for support to keep yourself up. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen out here. We don’t have any first aid or medical supplies. The best thing I can do is let my body try and heal itself. And the best way to do that is to stop laying around like a starfish.” You explained the words Cleo had given you when she patched you up on the first day. “And I’ll have Cleo with me.” You smiled at the girl.

JJ’s blue eyes went between you and the dark-skinned girl, sighing in defeat. “Alright, fine. But take this with you.” He demanded, tossing his Swiss Army knife in your direction, you managing to catch it with one hand.

“We’ll be back.” You smiled, turning to walk away with your girls. “Fire up the grill for us, boys!” You shouted over your shoulder.

“THAT BOY REALLY CARES ABOUT YOU, Y’KNOW?” Cleo spoke, holding a branch out of your way to duck under, guiding you with a hand on your back. The four of you had split in half — Kie and Sarah taking one side of the forest while you and Cleo foraged the other.

“Yeah, I know.” You acknowledged, getting further into the trees. “I just wish everyone would stop treating me like I’m…broken, or something.” 

“Well, your leg is pretty banged up, girl-”

“No, I know.” You cut her off. “But…it’s not just that.” You sighed, stopping in front of a bush to pluck off the berries, handing them to Cleo for her to put into the basket she made of twine and sticks. “...Some stuff happened back at home and I think they’ve been trying to be subtle about it, but I can see the way everyone keeps me in the corner of their eyes. I can feel it. It’s like they’re tip toeing on eggshells but they’re still cracking underneath their shoes. And they have their reasons to be worried, I know that and I appreciate it. But I feel like they’re always helping me or saving me. I don’t wanna be the weak link.” You explained, brows furrowed as you threw the last of the berries into the basket, limping further into the mess of trees with Cleo following closely behind. “I hate feeling like I can’t help myself. And my leg isn’t exactly helping the problem…”

“Weakness is deception.” Cleo said, matter of factly. “I learned that from a close friend.” She told you, looking at you briefly. “It’s usually hidin’ a strength you haven’t discovered yet.” She said simply, stopping in front of the fruit tree as she handed the basket to you and began to climb.

“Well, how am I supposed to find this ‘strength’?” You asked, eyeing the girl as she climbed the bark effortlessly.

“You learn to overcome the weakness.” She said, snatching one of ripe fruits off the vine. “Everybody is weak. It’s just that some are stronger than others. When you’re stronger than everyone around you, of course you’re not going to look weak — brighter lights cast deeper shadows. But the truth is, everyone is a weak link in some way. Strength isn’t about never fallin’, it’s about gettin’ back up every time you do.”

“But what if I don’t know how to do that?” You asked, brows furrowed as you got lost in your thoughts, watching as Cleo dropped the fruit into the basket from the top of the tree. “What if all I know how to do when I fall…is keep falling?” 

“...Why would you do that?” She asked, voice softer than you'd ever heard it.

“...Because it’s easier than getting back up just to fall again.” 

“But you can’t fall forever.” Cleo asserted. “You’ll hit rock bottom eventually. And when you hit rock bottom, there’s nothin'. And you can’t live with nothin', so you have to make your way back to the top eventually. You can never let yourself fall that far.” She spoke, climbing down from the tree. “It’s easier to swim to the surface from five–feet down than it is from fifty.” You pondered on her words, finding a good amount of wisdom in them. The girl stopped in front of you, taking the basket off of your hands. “And you’re lucky.” She added after a moment's pause. “You have a good group of people to help you up. Don’t see their help as weakness. Them people out there are your family. I don’t have that.” 

“They could be that for you.” You told Cleo as the two of you began walking back the way you came, using the moonlight for guidance. "We could be that for you."

“Nah.” She shook her head, eyes looking at her feet. “They don’t trust me.”

“Not yet.” You emphasized. “We don’t trust people easily. You can probably imagine why…” You trailed off, Cleo nodding in response. “But they’re actually taking to you pretty well. Most of them, anyway.” You mentally rolled your eyes, remembering you and Kiara’s previous conversation. “Like Pope?” You continued, moving branches and leaves out of the way. “He’s usually the first to be skeptical. But he seems open to you.”

“Hm...” She hummed under her breath — her lack of response prompting you to look at the girl, the moonlight illuminating the faint redness of her cheeks. You couldn’t help but gasp.

“Oh my God, do you like Pope?” You nearly shouted to which Cleo vehemently shushed you, looking around herself.

“Shut up, loud mouth!” She whisper-shouted lightheartedly. “...And no, I don’t. Boys are stupid. And useless.” She said, although you didn’t believe her. 

“Uh-huh…” You said, squinting your eyes with a sly smile. “...Well, he’s on the market, just FYI.”

“Ughhh.” Cleo groaned, throwing her head back and walking far ahead. “Shut up!”

“I’m just saying!” You shouted behind her, attempting to catch up.

“That’s ya problem!” She called over her shoulder. “Less talkin’, more walkin’, slowpoke!”

“Hey! I can’t help it!” You argued, still trying your best to catch back up to the girl. “JJ will kill you if you abandon me out here!” You joked to which you were met with a playful scoff that reverberated through the trees.

“I’ll put ya lanky, blonde boyfriend on his behind before he can shout for help!” She quipped, a smile thrown over her shoulder. “Come on!”

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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