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magewritesstories · 8 months ago

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[ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ] ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ

summary: i honestly don't even know how i got this idea, but it's literally just toothrottingly sweet fluff. domestic!gojo, domestic!gojo,domestic!gojo trigger warning: none this is pure fluff, no pronouns used note: just testing the waters to see if anyone's interested in jjk fics, also i was today years old when i learned that 'huffy' is a word. words: 2592 i have so many thoughts about this overgrown paintbrush man jujutsu kaisen masterlist

SATORU GOJO HAS BEEN CALLED MANY THINGS BY MANY PEOPLE. The strongest, the honourable one, arrogant idiot (that one was courtesy of Utahime and Nanami), etc.

But he has to admit, the things you call him have to be his favourite. And by now, he can easily tell the difference between the names.

GOJO was the first thing you called him, all the way back in your first year at Jujutsu Tech. Nowadays there's rarely an occurence where you call him that name. But when you do? Oh boy, he knows he's screwed up big time.

"Eh, I don't know, Shoko," You said, using your hand as a cover for you eyes, "I think the first Human Earthworm was better than this one."

The two of you were sitting on the podium next to the basketball court as Gojo and Geto play around.

It was midday at this point and you were already feeling sleepy from the sun shining in through the windows. Eventually, both Geto and Gojo got tired too and walked over to the two of you.

"You guys wanna get some drinks from the vending machines?" Geto asks, grabbing his wallet out of his bag.

You shake your simply shake your head and lean back, laying down on the podium floor, "Nah, I don't wanna get up."

Gojo declines as well and hops onto the podium next to you. "I'm good—bring me a coke though."

"Seriously?" Geto asks annoyedly at his friend, a vein popping on his forehead.

Shoko grins and grabs a pakket of cigarettes before hopping off the stage, "I'll go with you. I need a smoke anyway."

The two share some form of secret glance and grin like maniacs before making their way out the door.

You quickly sit up. "Oh! Suguru, Shoko, get me a coke too!" You shout after them, only getting a thumbs up from Geto as confirmation that he heard you.

"Ah, I'm so tired," You yawn, laying back down as Gojo stares at you, "By the way, Gojo, how'd you mission go? Suguru told me you spent half a day at the infirmary."

You turn to him with curious eyes and he quickly looks away.

"Eh, it was fine," He shrugs, "Suguru's exaggarating—the mission was a breeze, I just didn't have time to buy the cake I wanted."

"Of course that's what you're annoyed about after breaking three ribs," You chuckle as he turns towards you with a smug look on his face, "Don't try to hide it from me. Shoko told me all about how you got your ass handed to you by that special grade."

Gojo let out a another playfull scoff, "Oh please, that's a huge exaggartion."

"Whatever you say, Gojo," You reply with a smile before placing an arm over your eyes again.

A couple of minutes of comfortable silence pass when Gojo decides to speak up again. "By the way, since when are you on a first name basis with Suguru?" He asks, trying to sound as casual as possible.

You turn to him with a surprised look in your face, "Huh?"

"Last I checked you still called him Geto," He replies, using the palm of his hands to lean back, "Did I miss and episode on Y/N' Life?"

"Not really. We've just been friends for almost two years now, I figured it was time to stop calling him Geto," You reply simply, not noticing the annoyed look on his face.

But, Gojo has never been one for beating around the bush anyway so it's fine. "We've known each other for the same amount of time."

You sit up slightly and raise your brows at him teasingly. "Is this a complaint that I don't call Suguru Geto or that I don't call you Satoru."

He's pretty sure that if he hadn't been sitting his knees would've given in right then and there.

"Neither," He huffed haughtily, "I don't care."

You smile at his childish nature before leaning back down, "Okay, sure, whatever. Satoru."

From your position on the stage floor you have a clear view of his red ears as he continues to insist that he doesn't care.

SATORU is for when you're at your wits end with him. Which happens quite often. You call him that in that exasperated tone with your hands on your hips and he knows he's in for a huffy lecture. He'd never admit it to you (he knows better than to do that) but sometimes he likes to do something stupid just for the sake of hearing you say his full name.

"Babe," You call out from the kitchen, head stuck in the fridge as you try to find a specific thing. Finally, you give up and let out a sigh walking into the living room.

Satoru sits on the sofa, legs widespread as he surfs through the channels on the flatscreen hung parallel to the him.

You hang in the doorway next to the TV, "Babe, do you happen to know what happened to that cupcake Utahime gave me yesterday?"

"What cupcake?" He asks, feigning ignorance as he kept staring the TV. "Maybe Megumi ate it."

The blue-haired boy sat at the dining table not far from the sofa looks up from his homework. "Don't drag me into this."

"Well than maybe, Tsumiki—" He starts but you're quick to cut him off, "Tsumiki is allergic to strawberries, I know it wasn't her."

You're standing in front him with your arms crossed now, brows raised as you stare down at him.

Satoru just gives you a dopey grin as he looks up at you. "Well then I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I really have no clue what happened to the cupcakes Utahime brought you."

"Really? You have no idea?" You ask again, "Are you completely sure about that, Satoru?"

"Mhm, yep, not a clue," He replied, "But hey, why don't you forget about the cupcakes and come sit down—this is the best part of the movie."

You roll your eyes, "Satoru, if you ate my cupcakes just admit it."

The white-haired man continued the innocent charade as he patted the seat next to him. "Don't know what your talking about, babe." He puts his arm on the back of the sofa so that you can snuggle up next to him.

Finally, you roll your eyes and sit down, placing your head on his shoulder. Satoru smiles victoriously as his arm moves from the back of the sofa to your shoulder.

The victory is short, however.

About halfway through the movie through the movie, Tsumiki walks into the living room. "Hey, Gojo, do you have any more of those cupcakes you were eating this morning?"

Uh oh.

You turn to your boyfriend with a raised brow as he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well the thing is..." He trails off, trying to come up with an excuse. You just sigh and return to your previous postion of cuddling into his side, "What am I gonna do with you, Satoru?"

'TORU is one of his favourite nicknames. For the sole reason that he's the only one that gets to hear you say it. That one is reserved for those lazy sunday mornings where you're still half asleep and cuddling and neither of you want to get out of bed.

The sun shone through the window as the curtains of your bedroom fluttered along with the soft summer breeze.

The ticklish feeling of soft kisses being placed on the nape of your neck stirrs you out of your sleep.

"Hmm, morning," You hum, smiling as you turn towards Satoru, who is wide awake at this point.

He pulls you closer until you face is buried in his chest, and tangles his legs in yours. "Morning, beautiful," He replies, in that low morning voice that makes your heart skip a beat.

The moment of peace is short, though, because not soon after the white-haired man jumps up. "C'mon get up, we should get coffee from that new place down the street."

You groan and pull the covers that had fallen off of you pack up to you.

"Aw, Y/N, get up," Satoru whined shaking you a little.

You just groand and grab his shirt to pull him back down. "Shut up, 'Toru," You mumble, "I'm tired, 's too early for this."

A small laugh reverbrates through his chest as he grins down at the sight of your grumpy face and messy hair.

"But it's to 10 o'clock?"

"On a sunday morning."

"So?"

"So, 's too early."

"That makes no sense." You groan and shuffle closer to him, if that's even possible. "D'you really wanna chose right now to be logical, 'Toru?"

Another loud laugh resonates through your room as Satoru finally gives in and lays back down next to you.

One arm slung over you waist and legs tangled into yours as his wolfish grin turns into a soft smile, he says softly, "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, 'Toru."

BABE is a pretty basic nickname and he knows it, but Gojo loves it anyway. Especially whenever he remembers the first time you called him that and he almost had a heart attack from cuteness overload.

You skip ahead of Gojo as the two of you make your way through the night market.

The sound of people laughing and kids running as they played was enough to put you in a cheerful mood—and the added fact that you were on a date with Gojo just made it all that much better.

The many stalls lit the area around you as you happily looked around with a wide smile on your face. Satoru following behind you like a good boyfriend.

In the few hours that you'd been here you'd almost tripped over your kimono three times and each time your boyfriend had laughed his ass off.

"It's not funny," You groan, red blush coating your cheeks as you pull yourself out of his arms. He's saved you from the embarassement of falling flat on your face four times now.

Satoru shakes his head as he tries to muffles his laughter.

It was funny to him though.

I mean, this guy had seen you efficiently and ruthlessly taken out a special grade curse without fumbling even once, but here you were tripping over your own feet.

Plus, he got a little bit of an ego boost everytime he managed to catch you in his arms.

You dust yourself off as you turn away in a—failure of an—attempt to hide your embarrassed blush.

"You're so cute," Gojo laughs as he pinched your cheeks, which only made you go even more red.

Thankfully you see a ice-cream stall not to far from your position and quickly change the subject.

"Satoru, c'mon—" You grab his hand and start walking towards the stall— "I want some ice-cream."

He smiled and followed you, continuing to tease you as you stand in line. Which is very long by the way.

Eventually you manage to get some ice-cream. And hey you got two scoops just because you stood in that line for so long.

The two of you make your way to the docks hand-in-hand for the fireworks show which has already started.

Staring up at the dark night sky as it's filled with bright, beautiful colours you don't notice the small chip in the wood of the dock.

Your shoe gets stuck in the small hole, making you fall over.

Thankfully, Satoru manages to grab you by the waist and pull you into his chest. You don't have time to thank him though as you stare at the depressing sight in front of you.

One of the scoops of your ice-cream had flown away and landed a couple feet away from you.

"Why me, God, why me?" You whine as you stare at the fallen ice-cream.

Gojo—who still has a hand wrapped around you waist—starts laughing loudly, burying his face in the nape of you neck to muffle the sound.

You groan as he continous to laugh. Finally he manages to straighten up and wipes away a stray tear form his eye.

You stand in front of him, arms crossed and an adorable pout on your face as you mumble, "It's not funny, babe."

And in that moment—as the fireworks light your annoyed face—Satoru Gojo knows he's a goner.

HONEY. Of course I've saved the best for last. If he had to pick, Satoru would say that this is his favourite nickname. Again, it's a simple one, nothing creative or out there but that's exactly why he loves. It sounds so simple and domestic that it makes a warm fuzzy feeling rise in his chest every time.

Gojo is tired. Really tired.

He searched his pockets and finally manages to fumble out the keys to the apartement.

As soon as he enters it, he drops his dufflebag on the floor and lets out a loud groan.

"I'm home!" He announces, stretching. This mission took way more out of him than he'd expected.

The house is surprisingly quiet, nothing but the sound of your footsteps echo-ing through the halls.

You round the corner of the kitchen and run towards him, knicking him back a little as he catches you in his arms.

"Hey, honey, how was the mission?" You ask, arms wrapped around his neck as you look up him.

He smiles down at you and places a chaste kiss on your forehead. "Boring—didn't even take me ten minutes to exorcise that curse," He brags in the same boisterous tone as always.

You pretend to not notice the tiredness in the way his entire body is leaning into you. For now, alteast.

"Yeah?" You kiss him again, "Well, you need to be quicker next time—I got bored waiting for you so I decided to bake and now our entire kitchen is a disaster."

He laughed as you both walked into the kitchen, eyeing the frilly kitchen apron that said 'Kiss The Chef'.

Well, it used to say that. A couple days ago Tsumiki had used a needle and some yarn to sew it so that it said: 'Do Not Kiss The Chef (Unless You're Satoru Gojo.)'

Of course, the white-haired male had complained about the fact that he couldn't kiss himself.

Megumi had retorted that Gojo wasn't allowed in the kitche anyway. (You set fire to the kitchen while trying to make tea one time...)

Satoru smiled as he rounded the counter and placed a kiss on the top of you head.

"Oh, by the way," You remember as you tell him about your day's events, "I need you to talk to Megumi's teacher again—apparantly he got in another fight."

"Did he win?" Satoru asks, pulling a slightly. You frown as you playfully shove him, "And then you ask why I told the school I was the kids' primary guardian."

The kids.

Something about that phrase warmed his heart, washing away the coldness he'd felt as residue of his mission.

He kissed you again. "I'll go tomorrow," He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist. You smiled at the action, raising your hand to run a hand through his hair—wedding ring glinting in the kitchen light.

"Thanks, honey—" You tip-toe to kiss him— "I love you."

Satoru pulled you as close as humanly possible. Taking in the peace of the moment, the peace he was feeling right now. "I love you too, Y/N."

#satoru gojo #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #satoru gojo headcanons #satoru gojo x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen

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roosterr · 9 months ago

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i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on."

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move.

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed.

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera.

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod.

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud, leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap."

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

#soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #mw2 x reader #mw3 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #roosterr writes

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vagabond-umlaut · 9 months ago

Text

beckoning you, slowly, subtly

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Absence makes the heart yearn stronger.

Or: Gojo grapples with himself in the wake of you preparing to leave Tokyo Jujutsu High– in the wake of you preparing to leave him.

▸ Gojo x Fem!Reader; Former Teacher x Former Student; Reader has graduated from high school and is moving overseas for college; Gojo is 24-ish while Reader is 18; He's such a sad pathetic boi here; You think Reader is better? She's worse; Angst and Fluff; Use of humor as a coping mechanism [until it fails]; Very soft character study

▸ I wrote this as a prequel set minimum 10 years before the fic 'ensnared' -> You need not read that to read this, though. This is a standalone fic, through and through! 😊

Gojo feels nothing towards you.

No, he doesn't. He really, truly bears no feelings, whatsoever their nature might be, for you.

But... if it indeed is so... then why the hell are his knuckles so hesitant to strike the wood of your door, eh?

Gojo stays in this position for a beat or two more, before dropping his fist back to his side. Exhaling a mute yet deep sigh as his gaze travels over the tiny flowers and trees painted on the door. Next moves to the shoe rack beside, filled with neat rows of sneakers and flats. And finally reaches the cheery yellow paper taped to the door, your name written on it in smooth letters–

Before he can even realise it, the sorcerer finds his fingers over it, so wary yet wanting as they traverse the lines and the loops of the letters, eliciting a very soft murmur of the same from within, the latter darting past a dry throat and a heavy tongue...

"Sensei!"

The door suddenly springs open. Of course, with no one but you behind it.

Were here anyone else except him, Gojo is certain, they would have jumped feet in the air in response. Good thing, he isn't just some 'anyone else'. The sorcerer quickly withdraws his outstretched hand to stuff it into his pocket. And grins, the way he always does when caught in contemplation.

Big. Bright. Happy. So much so that it will either puzzle, or better yet, piss the other person off, eventually making them leave him to his devices...

"Heyyy," he drawls, decidedly making a show of his infamous breezy image— jarringly contrasting the manner his Six Eyes study your once decorated–now empty room, "Packing and everything's done, wow. Thought I might visit you one last time before you leave for..." Australia, but he chooses not to say it. Breezy image, remember?

Borrowing a beat to think– to make you think he's thinking, that is– the man resumes with a noisy chuckle, "Before you leave for wherever you're headed. When's your flight, by the way? Tonight or tomorrow morning?"

Whatever reply he might have been expecting from you, two shiny eyes and one o-shaped mouth certainly weren't on the list... You're pretty swift to erase them, however. Wiping your sweater paws over your face, you mimic his posture and grin back.

Cheeky, obviously, but much too strained than the ones you've given him so far... Your amused voice intrudes on his quiet scrutiny of you. "Why, Sensei? Missing me from this moment itself, eh?"

"Nah," he shoots back with a dismissive wave of his hand. Noting then ignoring the stinging twinge in the middle of his chest— no matter the fractional fall in your features; no matter anything, everything. "I'm literally waiting for when you'll walk out the school's torii gates— even more for when your plane will take off the tarmac and leave Japan! I was stuck teaching you for the better part of the past four years. What makes you think I'll miss you, heh. I'll be incredibly relieved, if anything."

"Ah," you say, following a moment's pause, "I see."

Quite an unenthusiastic reaction, if he's being honest; Gojo doesn't mind it, though. Not in the slightest.

Not even when he watches you regard him, oddly intense and pensive for a while, before you return to clearing your desk. So neat and tidy and dead with no books nor pens nor stray sketches strewn over its surface. The same way the rest of the room now seems: dreadfully dreary and dull, now that you– you with your bubbly self, shining in this damned dark school, jujutsu world– is moving away–

Oh.

Oh no.

You're moving away.

Which is... okay. Yeah, it's okay. But, but, but– "When will you come back?" The question escapes the confines of his mind into the stillness of your room, soon joined by another– one he bites his tongue and draws blood for, the second it leaves his mouth.

The tiny quaver in the words betraying the steady front he has put on very well– Until now. Until you— Too bad [or maybe, good] you've always read him rather well– so much so that you whirl round the instant the sentence flies into the foot in between, your crumpled features meeting his crumbling mask.

"You will come back, right?"

"I–" you start, eyes brimming with the same tears you wiped away so insistently then; he never hears you finish your answer, however.

Two tiny hands fling themselves round his neck, and before he can realise it, the sorcerer finds himself bent at the waist, nose nudging your temple while your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck, the collar of his jacket growing progressively wet with every passing second.

The man stops himself from returning your embrace— You were his student. He was your mentor. Your door is open. His Six Eyes sense Shoko and Utahime coming this way. He isn't meant for such empty shows of sentiment. He isn't sure if your gesture is as unfeeling as he hopes it is—

Screwing his eyes shut, he sighs. Yet offers no resistance when he feels your fingers unclasp from his shoulders then move to his hands, lifting them to keep them lightly on the small of your back.

Oh, well, whatever.

Gojo is still certain he feels nothing towards you.

Except, maybe, this steely resolve of his, engraving itself a cliff-like niche in his mind: To protect. To cherish this sweet feeling of you both in each other's grasp.

▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.

▸ masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

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calamaroo · 11 days ago

Text

KWAZII RACKHAM REDESIGN 🐈

& IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT‼️

(please read, I'd appreciate it)

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 🧡

Here lately, as you can tell if you've been around for my blog, I've been struggling to post. Part of the reason is I've just not been happy with my art style and designs. SO, in hopes to remedy this, I wanted to redesign my little meow meow man!!

I feel like I struggle really badly with same face syndrome, so I want my new style to focus more on different face and body structures/types!

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□

Design Elements :

The green eyes stuck out too much to me (sensory overload kinda deal), so I made them yellow! I feel it flows better with the oranges everywhere else!

Sharper angles that point inwards!

Actually looks like a human that can turn into a cat! --- I want my "human" designs to have more animal features because that's what I like about them the most! (My human designs are meant to be shifters/can turn back into the original animal species, but I forget to say that a lot)

I haven't liked the way the uniforms look, so that may also change, too. I just haven't gotten to it yet.

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□

IMPORTANT‼️ (at least to me)

Now, on a more serious note. Since I started tumblr, I got decently popular way quicker than I expected, and the little bit of stardom and fame got to my head. I loved (and still do) seeing people interacting with my art, especially the bigger name people of the Octo-fandom. Not to get too personal, but I've struggled with my self-esteem for as long as I can remember (sucks ass, but it is what it is). On top of that, seasonal depression is kicking my ass, and it started to seriously stress me out seeing the notifications decline. It's silly, and I'm super embarrassed about it, but it's better to let it out than bottle it in, and I've already done damn well enough of that, and I'm sick of pretending.

I love all the support and praise I get about my art. It feels like that's the only thing I'm good at, so it's very personal to me. It's my way of coping with a shitty world. I've thought a lot about it, and I want to start not caring so much about seeing the notes and stuff. I still LOVE and appreciate them. It's nice beyond words to see people actually like my stuff.

IM NOT LEAVING TUMBLR, btw. I love it WAY too much to do that 😅 I just felt like finally saying something. I shouldn't feel the need to explain myself to randoms on the internet, but eh, it is what it is. Can't win them all.

If you read all that, thank you so much!!! Please do not feel responsible for my mental health, it's mine, and I need to fix it my own way.

I hope you liked my Kwazii redesign! I want to redo everyone eventually, but I'm not sure how soon I'll get to it. Tryna focus on mental sanity rn

Byeeee, and thanks for reading my goofy little half silly cat man half vent post !

#octonauts #octonauts fanart #octonauts au #calamaroo's au #calamaroo's art #octonauts kwazii #kwazii #important announcement and vent #hrhrrggtbrh seasonal depression is a bitch and i hate it but i also hate the heat bro wtf #cant have shit in this economy

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quitealotofsodapop · 5 months ago

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Saw the notes... got inspired by the silly! MK would absolutely be confused over the baby stone monkeys but also really think the little clones are cute. He uses the explanation Wukong had given him about the babies being clones of an old friend he'd kept preserved until they eventually morphed into a pair of actual baby monkeys to the Noodle Gang. Tang is of course, extremely excited to meet Savage and Rumble because these are basically Sun Wukong's kids and the mystery of who the baby clones original self was gets added to the cork boars alongside Wukong's baby daddy!

Macaque, jealous and feeling betrayed: WHO DID YOU HAVE A CHILD WITH!?

Wukong: You, idiot.

Ha yes! Was rambling in the notes here about the Penumbra au (with some SlowBoiled sprinkled in).

MK rambles about the babies to the rest of the gang (and theorizing thats why Monkey King needed a successor), and the while gang are "aww"-ing at the thought.

The adults have concerns.

Pigsy: "Wait, how old are they? What is he feeding them?" MK, thinking: "Uhhh super tiny-old? Monkey King said the shadows he preserved turned into newborn babies some weeks ago. He keeps them in his shirt so I don't know how he feeds them." Pigsy, concern growing: "He's probably on that island without proper food for himself..." Sandy, also concerned: "And there's a lot of good vitamins one can't get from just fruit and transformed hair. He'll need some ginger tea." Pigsy, already in the kitchen: "And some soup! Tangy! We need some fish heads!" Tang, nerding out: "Are we forgetting the huge fact that these are newborn Spiritual Monkeys!? We're talking like baby unicorns here! This is a major discovery!" Pigsy, handing him a list: "Just get me these ingredients and I'll forgive your tab!" Tang, diligently grabs list and shopping bags: "Okie dokie!" MK: "Eh? Why tea and soup?" Mei: "Odds are the Monkey King is the babies' only source of food." MK: "They're eating him?!" Mei: "Bruh. Boobs." -_- MK, embarrassed: "AH. My bad." >_<

So yeah Sun Wukong quickly gets the adults knocking on his door with big pots of soup and tea for him to take. He's touched by the gesture, but a little startled by how fast the gang were to appear on his doorstep.

So of course MK has to deal with wanting to become stronger faster (can't do certain training when the twins are in the way), and runs into Macaque.

MK takes one look at the black fur, red face marking, and shadowy powers, and thinks "omg! he might be the shadow babies' other dad/clone-original!!" - but holds the knowledge to himself for the moment.

Eventually MK gets a text from Mei during his additonal training, and she sends him an adorable photo of the twins. Macaque overhears.

Macaque, very serious: "Who are they?" MK: "Oh! It's just my friend Mei!" Macaque: "No. I mean the baby monkeys." MK: "Oh haha. Well... the big reason Monkey King can't train me as hard as he can is cus he's got... them." Macaque, grabs phone and glares at the photo: "WITH WHOM?!" MK: "Whoa! You're uh... kinda upset." Macaque: "Of course I'm upset! My former ma- friend had cubs without me!" MK, thinking Mac cannot be that dense: "Wut." Macaque: "What's their names?!" MK: "Zàoyīn and Bàoliè." Macaque: "He named them Rumble and Savage?!"

This of course leads to a confrontation where Macaque has drained MK's powers and is now knocking on Wukong's door demanding to know who fathered his twins.

Wukong: (*opens door with the twins tucked into a skin-to-skin top. Looks a bit sleep-deprived.*) Macaque: (*angry frown*) MK: (*waves nervously cus Macaque dragged him over*) Wukong: "Wondered when you'd get here." Macaque: "Let me see them." Wukong: "Say please. You're not setting a good example." Macaque, forces self to calm down: "Ok. Please let me see them." Wukong: "Thats better." (*Wukong loosens his shirt, letting the twins' heads to poke out. The twins stretch awake as Wukong kisses their heads. A pair of six-ears flutter like that of a kitten as one yawns loudly.*) Macaque: (*quiet. eyes glistening*) Wukong: "Plums, are you crying?" Macaque, trying to hide tears: "Who- who did you have them with!?" Wukong & MK: "Wut." "Seriously!?" Macaque: "They're too beautiful to be mine!" Wukong, sighing: "You literally left behind two shadow clones before you left the island. Shadows that I... had trouble letting go of. And I might have broken some rules of magic to keep them around." Macaque: "You... donated your dao to preserve them??" Wukong: "Yeah. I didn't want to like... lose all of you just yet. But about a few weeks ago they sort of collapsed into themselves and popped out like this." Macaque, doing math and suddenly blushes: "OH." MK: "What oh?" Macaque: "Shadow clones aren't like hair clones. They aren't extensions of the original's body, but rather their soul. When Wukong donated his dao to my shadows - we accidentally, uh... inmaculada." MK: "Omg I was right! You are their dad!" Macaque: "Ok yeah. Uh, here's your power back by the way." MK: "Wut." Macaque: "I had this whole revenge plan in the works but uh, knowing that these little guys are here, I just can't." Wukong: "Aww. Is that the only reason?" (*flutters eyelashes*) Macaque, still blushed: "And I uh... kinda am really touched that you couldn't let go of my shadows after all this time." Wukong, smugly smiling: "Knew it." Rumble & Savage: (*fully awake, now grabbing Macaque's face and chirping excitedly!*)

Macaque quickly turns from "edgy shadow version of Monkey King" to "super-adoring dad" once he meets the twins properly.

Rumble and Savage love having their Papa back.

#slow boiled stone egg au #lmk penumbra au #lmk rumble & savage #lmk eclipse twins #sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #shadowpeach #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #breastfeeding tw #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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xxlady-lunaxx · 1 year ago

Text

Who are you? I love you | {UzuRen}

Theme: Fluff

Note: The wheel originally chose death angst but I re-rolled it bc the last UzuRen I wrotewas death angst so.. here's some fluff (this is if Kyojuro lived, and Tengen was never a Hashira (this is an AU please don't kill me I'm just doing what the wheel said-))

Tengen wasn't a Hashira bc he stayed as the Shinobi (ninja thingy i forget) for longer and when he became a demon slayer, he'd not gotten a chance to come across a 12 kizuki/didn't have enough time to kill 50(?) demons (I'm aware that Tengen is rlly strong and shit so he would've risen in ranks faster if he had more time :>)

Kyojuro was there, when Muzan was defeated. He was there and he was alive. He looked around at all the people around him. He smiled in a sort of sad way because they'd lost so many people.

He moved through the crowds, finding himself admist a group of demon slayers. He smiled at them nodding as they asked if he was okay—he had wounds that definitely needed tending to, but they weren't the worst acquired by everyone else and he wanted other people to be helped first. The group of demon slayers seemed in awe of him, knowing he was a Hashira.

Eventually they had to go to help the other people around since they hadn't been injured as much, but one of them stayed, curious of Kyojuro.

"What's your name?" the demon slayer asked. He was taller than Kyojuro with a bandage over his eye—presumably where he'd acquired a wound.

"Rengoku Kyojuro," the Hashira informed him, the smile still playing on his face. "And you? Don't you want to go off with your friends?"

"Eh," the demon slayer said, shrugging. "I'll go to them in a minute. I'm Uzui Tengen. Former Shinobi. I honestly wish I'd had more time to become a Hashira, you know?"

"You look like you might," Kyojuro pointed out. "When did you get into the demon slayer corps?"

"Not long ago," Tengen said, sighing. "Well, at least now my wives won't worry about me. They've worried ever since I've become a demon slayer—as if being a ninja was any better," he said with a short laugh.

"Yeah. Wait—wives? Ninja?" Kyojuro asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, why?"

"How old are you?!" Kyojuro said, then quickly apologized.

Tengen grinned. "I'm only 23, why?"

"You.. You said wives. Plural." Kyojuro crossed his arms, confused.

"Tradition," Tengen waved off. "Doesn't matter."

"..Okay. Well, I'm 20," Kyojuro said, changing the subject.

"Nice, when did you become Hashira? Or, uh, demon slayer?"

"Don't know, age become a blur when your focus is on making sure no one dies because you made a mistake," he said. He said it in a light tone, but it really wasn't anything 'light.'

"True."

They stared at each other for a beat, then someone called out Tengen's name and he turned. A woman was waving him over and he shouted back her name—at least that's what Kyojuro assumed—and told her he'd be there in a minute.

"Right, got to go," Tengen said, sighing.

"Mhm! See you around," Kyojuro smiled.

He watched Tengen run up to the woman and hug her, before they went off to find someone, it seemed. Kyojuro kept his eyes on the man for a moment, then turned away to help the others with bringing people to safety.

"God, why does he have to be married," Kyojuro muttered, pushing his hair back. He weaved through the rubble and found an injured demon slayer. He picked her up and carried her to the place where the wounded lay.

Giyuu walked up beside him, looking defeated.

"Oh, hello, Tomioka," Kyojuro said brightly.

"Hi."

"Are you okay? Did you get any more injured than you were before Kamado?" he asked, concerned.

"No."

"You lost an arm? I'm sorry.." Kyojuro said, noticing the bandage wrapped around the end of what was left of Giyuu's arm.

"It's okay. Are you alright? The other Hashira are.. not. Shinazugawa is unconscious but the Kakushi are tending to him. They say if he was a regular person he would've died, but because he's a Hashira he will have a chance to survive," Giyuu informed him, his expression remaining in it's usual impassive state, though a tone of tiredness clouded it.

"Ah.."

Both Hashira looked out in the crowd of people, bustling about. It almost could've looked normal if there was not a great amount of fallen demon slayers and blood and broken down buildings.

Kyojuro turned back to Giyuu, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I met this demon slayer! His name is Uzui."

"Uzui? Sounds familiar," Giyuu murmured, his eyes still scanning the people around him.

"Oh?"

"This woman was crying because she couldn't find her husband, I think. Said her name was, uh," Giyuu paused, thinking. "Uzui something. Started with an 's'? Sumi? Suma? Something like that."

"Oh, well, Uzui said he had several wives. And he's only 23," Kyojuro remarked.

"Really? Who has the time to marry?" Giyuu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dunno."

The lapsed back into silence and continued watching around, helping the occasional Kakushi who walked past them. Then Kyojuro pointed off to a person who was surrounded by a group of people, all of them talking.

"The one in the midde? White hair? That's Uzui," he said to Giyuu.

"Ah. Are the women his wives?"

"I don't know, he never said who they were. Or how many."

"You sound disappointed," the Water Hashira said, turning to Kyojuro.

"Disappointed?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I'm not," Kyojuro said, a nervous laugh tracing his words.

"No?"

"No, no, I'm not."

"Suit yourself." Giyuu paused. "If you like him, best tell his wives first." Then he left, walking towards the direction the Kamado siblings sat.

If you like him, best tell his wives first.

Kyojuro sighed and leaned against a particularily large piece of concrete. He supposed he shouldn't fall for someone he just met. What was the point?

And of course, the person just had to be married. To several people. Just great.

~~~

Tengen grinned as his wives explained how Suma had dropped her plate and had caused the whole restaurant to erupt in chaos somehow.

By now, it was the demon slayer corps all healing from the losses and celebrating Muzan's defeat. About a month had gone by and Tengen and his wives had gotten into helping everyone with the excuses and the rebuilding and the burying and healing.

And though it had been so long, Tengen's mind constantly wandered back to the Hashira. The Flame Hashira with hair like fire whose smile seemed to brighten everyone. He'd seen Kyojuro around when he'd been helping and they talked every now and then.

But not enough to sooth Tengen's terrible want.

Which he hated himself for. He didn't want to want. He had three wives for fuck's sake! He turned where he stood and Hinatsuru, startled, stumbled back.

"Oh shit, sorry," he mumbled. "I'm going to go buy some food, alright?"

His wives nodded, confused. "Okay, bye!" Suma said cheerfully, glad for the change of subject.

"Bye," he agreed, smiling and grabbing his bag.

~~~

Kyojuro walked silently down the street, tired. He'd had a long day today, pushing himself to the limits to help as much around as he could. He probably shouldn't have done that much but he needed to take his mind off of Tengen.

And it didn't work. Unfortunately.

He turned the corner, his eyes on the ground. Then he realized he was about to bump into someone and looked up just in time before he nearly crashed right into Tengen who was holding a bag and apparently rushing somewhere.

"Uzui?" Kyojuro asked, startled. "Sorry, are you going somewhere?"

"Well, I said I would be so I probably should. You?"

"Nope. Mostly on my way home, but I don't think I'm needed there at the moment so I was just walking. You know?"

"Ah, right." Tengen nodded, smoothing his hair. "Uhh, want to go to the store with me?"

Yes, yes he did. He should say no, but.. "Sure, why not?"

Kyojuro smiled and Tengen smiled back.

"Great!"

~~~

Tengen couldn't believe his luck. Which, at the moment, he was unsure if that was meant negatively or positively. He loved being with Kyojuro for one thing, but he needed something to stop him from being so focused on the Hashira. He shouldn't be falling in love with someone when he already had wives..

He took his time as he walked side by side Kyojuro. They talked a bit as they headed to the store, finding themselves at peace.

"Have anything to do this weekend?" Tengen asked, changing the subject.

"No, why?"

"Want to come over to my house? I need something to do. Too much time to think and thinking is boring," Tengen said, shrugging.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Which day? When?" Kyojuro asked.

Tengen shook his head. "What day do you want? I'm free both, from what I know."

"Alright! What about, uh, saturday? Sunday, if I manage it, I'm planning to convince Senjuro and my father to go somewhere with me. Is that okay?" Kyojuro suggested.

"Yes! I mean, uh, yep. So in two days. Cool. Where should I pick you up at?"

"What about the park? The one a block away from here?" Kyojuro suggested.

"Alright."

Tengen smiled, happy with this.

Kyojuro smiled back, not knowing what was going through Tengen's mind right now.

~~~

He seemed take longer to get ready this time, as Kyojuro fixed his hair. It was saturday and he was going to see Tengen. He honestly couldn't wait, couldn't help day dreaming about what it might be like to spend the day with Tengen and not just mindless conversations while they worked.

He left the house with a smile and made his way to the park happily. Tengen was there waiting for him and he took him to his house.

Tengen introduced Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio to Kyojuro more properly and Kyojuro found that they were really sweet women. They didn't seem to mind at all when Tengen had hugged him. They had snacks ready for Kyojuro who took it gratefully—finding that it was Tengen's wives who had made it. It had been "UMAI!" as he'd declared.

As time passed on and they were having fun, Kyojuro went to the bathroom. When he came back, he paused in front of the door, hearing Tengen and his wives speaking in hushed tones.

"Tengen, we don't mind that you like him too! He's really nice," Hinatsuru assured the man.

"Really?" Tengen asked, sounding surprised.

"Of course!" Suma decided. "He also said our cooking was delicious. He's so sweettt!!"

Tengen laughed softly. "Yes, he's amazing!"

Kyojuro smiled to himself.

Makio paused. "Just don't forget about us and you can date him," she ordered, putting her hands on her hips.

"Deal," Tengen said, smiling. Then he flinched and his wives surrounded him, worried. "No, no, I'm fine. Just.. Kyojuro?"

Makio nodded. "Yes, that's who we've been talking about, right..?"

"Yeah. I meant, uh, Kyojuro. I think he just heard what we said," Tengen murmured.

Kyojuro jolted, surprised. He opened the door sheepishly, looking guilty. "Yes, I did.. Sorry.."

{Word count: 1829}

I'M EVILLL

imma do a part 2 MAYBE 😊

The wheel's choice: Eavesdropping, Future AU, Strangers to lovers

#uzuren #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fluff #sillyness #uzui tengen #kny au #kny rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer rengoku #tengen's wives

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msith · 1 year ago

Note

Hallo hallo, me again

So like what abt fem! reader x rui where reader has low self esteem and her

parentslike own some shop where they do stuff like piercing ears and stuff like that and sometomes reader will help so she knows a few things abt poercing ears

So imagine she tries to pierce Ruis right ear(since his right ear is alrdy pierced) but then she messes up and ends up hurting him, then she basically isolates herself bc shes mad that she hurt rui even though she knows how to pierce ears so you basically comfort for reader? Tytyty

You did nothing wrong!..

A/n: tired from schoolwork fr fr but thanks again for requesting Stella!^⁠_⁠^

You were just staying in your room having no intentions to help your parents since you have schoolwork.. ah sleepy.. "[NAME]! YOUR FRIEND IS HERE AND WANTS A EAR PIERCING TO HIS LEFT EAR!" ... What perfect timing..

You lazily walked to the place where it's done.. "eh?! Rui? You want a piercing?.." you sighed "I thought one of your ears pierced was enough.." you make your way to your seat and directed him to the seat he is gonna sit at "fufu! I sure hope this is gonna end great.." he said "..so just your ears pierced right?.." you smiled slightly you make your way to grab the supplies..

You gently tried to pierce the ear of your 'friend' VERY gently.. gently enough to not hurt him.. surely you're not gonna hurt his ear right? Wrong. You accidentally jabbed his ear fastly "agh!.. ugh not our lucky day huh?.." he remarked. You... Hurted someone with your needles.. even if you can DO THIS TO OTHER PEOPLE?! .. UNACCEPTABLE!.. right?.. no.. this is your fault! "[NAME]?.. is something wrong [NAME]?.." "... I gotta go rui erm.. I'll call my parents to take over.." you quickly walked away from him and went into your room..

...how could you.. hurt him? Hm? No! You hurted your friend! How could you?! He's your friend not enemy silly.. ah you're so idiotic but.. ah stop overthinking.. but..

KNOCK KNOCK

Hm?.. you slowly walked over to open the door and you found.. rui?! "[NAME]? Are.. you okay [NAME]?.." "of course im not rui.." you retorted "[NAME].. you.. don't have to be the best at everything.. we sometimes make mistakes you know.." "I guess you're kinda right rui" you moved closer to hug him "I'm so sorry.. I didn't mean to.." he ruffled your hair "it's fine [NAME] no need to feel sorry.." you eventually feeled better and you and him just stayed there hugging..

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formulapookie · 3 months ago

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Hey hey hey, so with Bez congratulating Cele after his race (going there despite being in pain, but he just had to see Cele) and then hugging tightly, do think something more happens when they are alone? Like kisses or confessions? Or both? Bez being super proud, unable to hold back? Or Cele being happy and omg and then he just kisses Bez?

No pressure obviously, but would you like to write that if you have time? I know you still have some prompts left, so everything alright if you don't get to it!!!

Sending love either way ❤️

He finally managed to get a podium this year, fucking finally, he's made his comeback, Celestino is euphoric, wants to scream at the top of his lungs and feel this high again and again and again.

When he eventually comes back to the garage Bez is there. Cele worries for a moment, what about his injury? Is he ok? Can he walk properly? Does he need help?

But he sees the older driver walk towards him, arms open for an hug, and whoever received an hug from Bez during their life can tell they're the best in the world, and cele would die for a hug from him right now.

"Bravo Cele, bravissimo" Bez always has sweet words for him, always hyping him up and pushing him to be better while never putting him down.

He can feel the man's arms tight around him, pulling him so close to his chest he can feel Bez's heartbeat, everything but calm.

They're laughing, Bez complimenting him once again, then helping him to his motorhome, Cele's eyes sparkling with joy.

As they're inside Cele goes to grab a redbull and a monster he secretly keeps in his mini fridge because he knows Bez prefers it, and passes it to the older.

"You really made a show out there eh? I'm so proud of you" he's smiling, and God, Cele thinks, he doesn't know what he does to him, to his brain, to see him smile like that, so bright the sun would shy away at the sight. His words so important to him, being the ones making him give his 100% everytime he's on track.

He smiles back, and only then he realises how close Bez is currently standing, an unopened monster can in his right hand, his left one placed on the table for support, still looking at Cele.

And smiling. "So proud"

And Cele doesn't really register the next few seconds, they're too fast, too unreal, too much looking like they come out of a dream instead of being a solid truth.

Bez kisses him, and Cele can taste the pride filling the kiss, can taste Bez on his own lips, and he can't believe it.

He responds to the kiss, adrenaline charged on his part, but Bez still somehow holds control, pushing Cele against the table, making their energy drinks fall to the ground, an unpleasant smell of spilled redbull making its way to both of them.

But they don't care right now, Bez keeps on telling Cele how proud of him he is, and Cele can't help but give in to the touch, to the praise.

They finally stop for a moment, looking at eachother like two lovers who've been separated for years and couldn't hold the other close for so long.

"You - are you really - oh god you kissed me" Cele is incredule, can't really get what happened, Bez still smiling proudly.

"Of course I kissed you Cele you deserved it, you did such a great race and I am so so proud of you, I'm not gonna stop saying it"

And there's where Cele finds his courage, taking a quick step towards Bez and grabbing him by the team hoodie, pulling him closer than before, pushing his tongue past his lips, a bit too much teeth in this kiss, but he doesn't care, adrenaline is eating him alive and he so desperately needs to have Bez.

The older on his part is amazed by him, giving in to his touch, following his desire, kissing him back with force.

And still so proud of him.

Yeah I am in critical need of sleep cause I slept three hours tonight and I gotta be up at 6.45 tomorrow when it's currently midnight and I have to go trekking so yeah. Sorry if it's short/mediocre but my brain can only do so much when sleepy.

Send me a Ship name and a Number and I'll write a kiss

#alice journal of asks #anon🩷#ASK GAME #bezzetti #alice writes

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sang8262 · 3 months ago

Text

in a yapping mood, and i cant draw well, so here's some *gasp*, self insert-OC related ramblings?!?!?

the elevator pitch summary is:

A fledgling author and researcher who becomes unwittingly enthralled in JP's schemes after visiting Nayshall for a thesis project.

Forced to work for his NGO (and later Neo Shadaloo) as an advisor after showing promise with Psycho Power.

Wrestles with doing the right thing and opposing JP's influence, yet unable to abandon her deeper emotions towards him.

...with more deets below-

I don't even have a proper name for her yet, since I'm bad with that lmao. But I guess as a sorta self insert, they could be Millon.. for now?? Eh I'll figure it out later.

---

The impetus and circumstance for which she meets JP is that,

she's researching Nayshall's rapid devlopment, and the public health problems its facing as a nascent country. Particularly, how the visitors and participants of the Suval'Hal Martial Arts Tournament (SMAT) have access to the best doctors and emergency aid available... yet the greater local population lacking reliable access to affordable health care.

She has the chance to interview and speak with tournament organizer, Johann Petrovich, about the SMAT and current issues. She surprisingly finds him agreeable, polite, and level-headed. Realizing he has a lot of power as the country's policy advisor, she tries to convince him towards implementing healthcare policies that would allocate more resources for those who need it.

Her mistake is trusting JP as someone willing to aid the suffering, someone who wants things to be better for everyone. Once she does though, it's far too late to rid of his clutches on her.

---

I'm imagining she initially is on good terms with him. She respects his investment into developing the country, and even finds his NGO, Terra Network Partners (TNP) potentially a place to work at. Of course, this is before realizing the money laundering and his connections with Shadaloo.

I can see JP convincing her into relying on him and being complicit in his schemes by offering her a stable position within his NGO. Or funding her research and writing. Having the support and endorsement of someone his calibur would be a huge boon to her academic career afterall...

Then, maybe it's either from her own prying, or after a not-so-chance meeting with Kalima and the resistance, but she eventually realizes the kind of person JP is.

By then though, she's far too entangled with JP and his organization to cut ties and escape. In fact, she realizes that her discussions with him have been helping him make more predatory decisions.

---

In a heated revelation of the truth, he might use Psycho Power to fully subdue her: mostly with expectations that she'd not survive it, silencing any incriminating publication about him in the future. And because even if she didn't die, she would now be dependant on him as a mentor, to continue surviving the awful power forced upon her.

Turns out she has a lot of disdain and despair, enough to fuel and sustain Psycho Power. He's not fully interested in helping her per se, but decides she will do less potential harm if kept close under his watch. And so she struggles now, to find a way to escape Shadaloo and quell her bloodlust. But it's not an easy influence to overcome...

---

I mean, it's a self SHIP afterall, so I'm having it be like a development of:

-wow this guy is GREAT, i respect him a lot! he's so kind! we could work together to do a lot of good things :)

-wow nevermind, this guy SUCKS, i have to escape/ stop him!! >:(

-Psycho Power makes it very difficult to think clearly and all my worst emotions are amplified a ton! i am also forced to learn under JP, and work for him, and woah did he always look so handsome :0

Then throw in a healthy amount of manipulation and sweet talking on JP's behalf and poor self insert OC is doomed to tragedy.

---

Design wise, I have no idea!!!! I guess I would make them The Cooler Me, but right now I got nothing. I'll come back to it lmao

#omg oc talk????#i'll tag it for that for my future reference but i wont tag it for sf6 at all #silly OC rambles

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sarandipitywrites · 5 months ago

Text

Find the Word Tag

@authoralexharvey tagged me for this one - thank you! go check out their snippets from A Sharper, More Lasting Pain here

my words to find are cruel, cure, sanctuary, and sturdy. i'll search Dead Roots, Dark Water for this one

passing on the tag to @emberlyric, @rainydance91, @the-scaredy-crow, @k--havok, @rewritingrosie, and an open tag. your words will be enough, bones, mirror, and tomorrow

now, here are the snippets:

cruel

"...Thanks." Jak's hands didn't shake so much, now. "I just thought..." Of course he'd thought. Why wouldn't he? But the universe was cruel. Or people were, and that was basically the same thing. "I know. It's okay." It wasn't. And there wasn't any making it okay. There was nothing he could do to make it okay. Nothing that mattered, nothing that was enough.

cure

He moved to his hands to speak. The worried knit of his brows stole the mirth from Daxter's chest. "So, Keira's achieving world domination, while we're...?" Daxter swallowed, and tried for a smile. Hopefully it didn't look as hollow as it felt. "Eh, she'll probably let us be her cyborg manservants, if we ask nicely." Jak arched an eyebrow and frowned. Shit. Why did he want to talk about the actual future? Robot apocalypse future was way better. "Well..." He chewed on his bottom lip and stared out over the water, as though they both hadn't known the answer their whole lives. "You'll replace ol' Log Nog when he croaks — all the eco in the world can't keep that bag o' bones together forever — so you'll be the Green Sage and, I dunno, cure death or somethin'. I'll probably just keep stealin' crystapples from old man Zeb's farm. And livin' in your attic." Jak tilted his head to the side, his eyes focused on something far beyond where Daxter sat. He popped his knuckles and shook out his hands. Eventually, he signed, "Do we have to?"

sanctuary haven

Daxter turned around, took one look at him, and groaned. "Dude. The shoes weren't a friendly suggestion. Put 'em on." "Never needed them before." "You never been in Haven before. And the first rule of Haven is: shoes are not optional. Place's nastier than a hiphog's wallow. With at least..." he counted off on his fingers, "three times the horrible diseases." Jak crossed his arms. Whatever pathogens Daxter was worried about, Jak had encountered worse and survived. Without shoes. Daxter mirrored his stance and narrowed his eyes. "Jak Sabo, you are wearin' those boots if I gotta pin you down and duct tape 'em on. I ain't carryin' you around when you step on a nail and get gout." Jak rolled his eyes, but opened the bag and retrieved the boots. "Tetanus." "Yeah, that too."

sturdy

"We'll overthrow the government tomorrow," he signed. No one was within earshot. But, as a certain tattooed wonder might've said, it paid to be paranoid. "Makers know it'll still be there tomorrow, the bastard." He was counting on it. He wanted it to still be there, tall and sturdy. It'd feel all the better when he was the one to tear it down, brick by awful brick. Because whether or not Jak wanted to name names, somebody in that place had given him those scars. Somebody’d hurt him. And nobody hurt Daxter’s best friend and lived to brag about it.

DRDW Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @sam-glade, @televisionjester, @surroundedbypearls

#writeblr tag games #find the word tag #my writing #dead roots dark water

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lostonehero · 15 days ago

Text

Ghosts in the insistute

"Uh, sorry about your brother Daniel." A older woman adjusts her glasses floating behind the man in urban explorer gear and looks to be stitched back together.

Danny sighs. "Don't. Gertrude. We both know he didn't have a choice, and i can't tell him to stop because he's going to get himself killed going down this route. I honestly thought he was finally making a turn for the better. Guess that won't happen now."

A man floats by missing both of his eyes. He's in a long button-up shirt, black dress pants and a name badge stating artifact storage, and Elias Bouchard. "Eh, it ain't that bad he might even join this hell hole of us being stuck, not you, but still." Eli shrugs. "Honestly, still kind of jealous you get to travel."

"Don't be bitter, Elias." Gertrude rolls her eyes.

"To be fair, he has to watch Jonah use his body and watch it get older as he stuck like this." Danny sighs. "At least you're not stuck to your sister."

Eli shudders. "Oh, don't you even put that out there. I don't need her visiting here to make that a possibility. Trevor attached to his brother when he visited to make a statement. I don't need to have my sister suffer with that. I abandoned her after all."

"You didn't, though." Gertrude gave a half-hearted pat on Eli's back.

Eli narrowed his gaze. "I really, really didn't like that."

Gertrude rolls her eyes again, pinching her brow. "If it's any consolation, I hope Tim dies first."

"Missing the entire point of me wanting my brother to live a long, happy life." Danny huffs. "You literally just died like a few months ago. You have no claim in this."

Gertrude sighs but doesn't say anything.

"Good morning, Martin!" Danny waves.

"The living can't see us." Eli crossed his arms.

Danny smiles floating next to Martin. "Do you think this fear stuff will trap you too?"

"Seriously?" Eli floats next to Danny. "The living can't see us. How many times do I have to tell you this?"

Gertrude clears her throat. "I can concur with Elias. The living, even those avatar to the eye or even end, cannot see us."

Martin sighs and in a quiet voice. "I'm half dead."

Eli froze, staring at Martin. "You're what?"

Danny scoffs. "I told you! That's Martin he's dating Tim. I asked him not to tell Tim about me because i knew Tim would hate him, and it's a healthy relationship. I dont want to ruin it for my brother."

"What do you mean by half dead child?" Gertrude raised a brow.

Martin quietly removes one glove to show a skeleton hand and then quickly replaces it. "I'm half dead. It's probably from my father's side because I never met him." He quickly quiets himself when the three left the archivist office.

"As I was telling you before, Martin can see the dead, which means us. He doesn't excatly make it known to the living." Danny crossed his arms floating back next to his brother.

"That's kind of upsetting." Eli frowns. "I'm sorry, kid. My father was a fucking monster. Yours is an actual monster, not a fear freak, though. He could be a decent guy, well not decent, he did abandon you."

"He didn't, Martin's mother had a one night stand and blamed Martin for being born." Danny floats upside down. "His Mom is the problem."

"Oh ew." Eli makes a face.

Gertrude sighs. "That's unfortunate, but maybe I'll be able to help you guys survive. Sasha was my pick for Archivist, but Jonah has other plans."

"Still don't get why Barnabas still likes him." Eli shrugs.

"I'm sorry, as in Barnabas Bennet?" Gertrude stares at Eli.

"I keep forgetting how new you are. You haven't even met all the others here." Eli chuckles. "Robert Smirke is here too. He and Mordechai have an ongoing bet about Peter, his great, great, whatever grandson who is in a relationship with Jonah. Barnabas likes Peter better anyhow and thinks he can just join the two when they eventually die. He's quite stubborn and still in love. Oh right there's others as well, but you'll eventually meet everyone. Speaking of that, I have to talk to Laura she always has the best gossip."

"Oh! Tell me everything. I have to know the deal with accounting." Danny smiles. "I mean, come on, that has to be a polycube at this point."

Eli winks and floats through the ceiling.

Gertrude follows.

.......

Martin puts his coat on and sighs. "So how long have you been stuck?" He was just outside, and the night chill made him put on his coat as soon as he stepped outside.

"He really wasn't kidding. You can see and hear us." Eli sighs. "Day before Jonah promoted my body. For a few decades now, well, two and nearly three decades. It's not all bad, I do have to admit we have the same taste in men, although I've been informed i am demi on all accounts, but I guess I'm still somewhat connected to my body because I share the feelings for Peter. It's really weird."

"That is quite odd." Martin nods.

"What are you doing waiting outside here?" Eli raised a brow.

"Tim and I agreed we don't want the others to know due to the gossip machine. So I catch the bus out here, and he picks me up from the closest drop-off." Martin messes with his gloves. "I do want to tell him. I've never been in a relationship this long before or cared about someone like I do him, but it don't know how to tell him that his brother hasn't left his side since he died. He only told me last month about Danny."

"I don't really have advice for you. However, he will catch you without those gloves one day." Eli chuckles at Martin's shocked expression. "Im good at reading people, and I know for a fact he doesn't know about that."

"Gloves and lies mostly." Martin sighs. "I don't want to scare him."

"He watched his brother die, I don't think bones will scare him." Eli waves at the bus approaches. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Martin nods and gets onto the bus.

.......

Tim was humming cutting vegetables in his shared kitchen. "Ok again. I'm sorry, I didn't think Jon would be such a dick to you. Look, I know we agreed to keep this a secret, but I don't like how he treats you and..." He turns to look at Martin, who was messing with his gloves in deep thought. "Marto?"

Martin swallows and blinks. "I uh right, sorry. It's fine, Tim."

Tim puts his knife down and sighs. "Are you ok?"

"I have to tell you something." Martin looks up with impossibly blue eyes at Tim.

Tim swallows. He probably fucked up and ruined the only good thing he had. He should have told the others. Martin didn't deserve to be hidden like a dirty secret. Every one thought he was a slut and that was fine. Even Sasha played along, but even his best friend didn't know the truth. Fuck he was such a dick. "Martin I'm so-"

"I can see the dead!" Martin sputtered out loud and clearly embarrassed.

"What?" Tim blinks clearly, not expecting the words to come out of Martin's mouth. "I'm sorry. Did you say you can see the dead?"

Martin rips off his gloves, showing off his skeleton hands. "I met Danny when we first met. He's kind of stuck to you since he died. He's the one to ask me not to tell you. I didn't... I don't want to lie to you anymore. I love you, Tim, and I've been terrified to say it. I've been so scared you would be scared of me because of this and... and..." He was crying thick tears dripped from his eyes.

Tim rushed forward, grabbing Martin's hands. "Martin, i could... wow, why are they warm? I'm sorry. I know this is serious, but they're warm, and that's weird, right?"

Martin pauses and chokes out a laugh. "To be honest, I don't understand it either. You're not mad?"

"Mad? Martin, I love you. Fuck I thought you wanted to end things." Tim gently places his forehead against Martin's. "I don't think i would have been able to handle that. You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I just..." he freezes. "Wait, you can see Danny?"

Martin chuckles. "You know he was counting down till you would ask that."

"Fu-" Tim had tension bleeding out of his shoulders, standing back up. "It is him. You really can see the dead. I have so many questions, but I don't care. I need to do this first."

"Do wha -" Martin is cut off by a deep kiss.

......

"Oh, please don't tell me he watches." Tim groans covering himself with the blanket.

"He has a 30-foot radius around you, Tim." Martin chuckles. "He makes himself scarce during all your fun times."

"Is this why you always leave the TV on when we get busy?" Tim hums and scratches his chin. "That makes so much sense."

"That or he spies on the neighbors. He doesn't blame you." Martin smiles softly. "He wants to see you happy. He also wants to see you get old because it would be funny in his own words to see you break a hip being a idiot."

Tim snickers, and it turns into a full belly laugh. "That sounds like him. Where is he now?"

"Tim, I can't see through walls." Martin smiles, sitting up and looks around.

"Oh, you're done? That's fast." Danny poked his head through the door. "And your hands are uncovered?"

"He, however, can go through walls." Martin smiles, pointing to the closed bedroom door. "I know you can't see him, but he is now in the room."

"You told him?" Danny raised a brow.

"Danny?" Tim sat up, keeping the blanket over him. "Danny, I.... I've missed you."

"Dude, I've been following you for years. Why the bloody fuck is he being shy now? We shared a room!" Danny huffs.

"He's complaining that you're being shy." Martin thins his lips.

Tim groans. "You know what I lied fuck you Danny."

Danny burst out laughing.

"He's laughing at you." Martin grins when Tim starts laughing.

Tim grabs Martin's hand. "Thank you for giving my brother back, Martin. I dont think you need to get me gifts anymore."

"I'm still going to knit you a scarf." Martin kisses Tim's cheek.

"So now that there's open communication. I know we have years to catch up on and whatever, but I have to know, was Jon really in a band? Micheal talked about seeing him in college. The band was called Mechanisms." Danny floated closer to the two.

"Seriously? You can talk to your brother again, and that's the first thing you ask?" Martin huffs. "Micheal, and different spirit stuck at the insistute says Jon was in a band in college called the Mechanisms and he wants to know if that's true."

Tim's eyes widen. "No, Danny's right, that's a way more pressing matter. Jon, the stick in the mud academics who threw a hissy fit when we threw him a birthday party because it's unprofessional can not be cool or have a cool past."

Martin chuckles. "We do have the internet to help."

Danny is right next to Tim as he pulls out his laptop.

"Hell yeah, you're amazing, Martin. Also, thanks, Danny." Tim smirks.

"Fuck yeah. Less talking more, searching. I have to see this." Danny grins.

.......

"Oh, what has gotten you so happy, Tim?" Sasha chuckles, listening to Tim practically skip into the archives humming a tune. "Did you get lucky with Aaron from HR?"

Tim grins. "Even better." Hs tosses his phone open to a YouTube video.

"No." Sasha stares at the video.

"Aha! See, I told you, Eli." Micheal points at the phone screen.

Eli snorts. "This is something I don't mind being wrong about."

"Good heavens." Gertrude rolls her eyes. "If he dressed like that here, he would probably have a better chance of fitting in with the avatars."

Danny snorts. "I would pay to see that."

Martin bites his lip watching Jon pale as he exited his office because of the noise, and he went right back inside.

"It would have been easier to just ask his parents." Micheal crossed his arms. "They are attached to Jon like you are to Tim."

"Isn't that weird, though? I mean like hey, we're also dead, so tell us about your son, who you obviously been attached to a long time because you both are way too young to have a meaningful impact in his life." Danny frowns.

"We can hear you." A dark skinned Asian man huffs. He mumbles something in Japanese.

"Be nice, Shiro." The woman elbows the man. "But he isn't wrong. I died when my boy was six. Cancer is nobodies friend. I'm May, and this is my husband Torshiro."

"I was killed when he was 2." Shiro motions to the spot where his heart was carved out of his chest it was incredibly gruesome. "My past caught up to me from Japan." He was a scary looking man. "Ex Yakzua met May while she was teaching English in my territory."

"I was just killed by some stranger horror creature." Danny motions to being stitched back together. "You're thing sounds so much cooler."

"So tell us about this, Jonah. He is in your body, right?" Shiro points to Eli.

"Yeah, yeah." Eli sighs. "Jonah Magnus found a way around death through the fear god Beholder." He motions to his bloody holes where his eyes were. "You can guess how. He's going to use your son to initiate his plan unless he figured things out like Gertrude, or he cuts out his eyes. You can hear his whole thing if you talk to Barnabas or Robert. Honestly, I'm just glad to be stuck here than attached to him."

"That's great for you." Micheal sighs he was fading. "I'm attached to whatever possessed my body. I'll see you guys when the spiral returns." He salutes and vanishes.

"He way too polite to curse you out." Eli motions to Gertrude.

"I deserve that." Gertrude sighs.

"Well, we have to figure out a way to stop it." May huffs. "I will not have my son be used like a pawn for something he has no idea about."

Martin sighs. "I would love to help, but the man hates me."

Tim raised a brow and then made an o face. "Who's talking?"

"They're all talking among themselves, but before Danny mentions I could help Jon. I must say he hates me." Martin crossed his arms and points in a direction near Jon's office. "Jon's parents are attached to him like how Danny's attached to you."

"Ok, but help Jon, how?" Tim raised a brow.

"You can see us?" May gasps.

Martin nods. "Honestly, with the way you guys gossip, I would have thought everyone knew by now."

Eli shrugs. "It ain't my secret to tell, kid."

"Oh, um, thank you, I guess." Martin rubs the back of his neck. "But as I was saying Jon hates me, anything I will say to him he will dismiss. I get the whole fear thing, and you are his parents, but he hates me."

Shiro frowns. "The boy has a point. Jon is stubborn like myself. Your mother raised him, and she was an awful influence."

"Well, I didn't want her to raise him, but she forged my signature!" May pinched her brows. "Look, how about we start with getting jon to like you. He likes cats, and he does really like the tea you make him."

"Oh, I understand that. I basically raised my sister, and then my father disowned me, and I was banned from seeing her. I'm happy that she never saught me out to see Jonah puppeteer my body." Eli hums.

"Dude that's really fucked up." Danny frowns. "How about something more reasonable like finding Eli's sister."

"Well, if i knew her name, I could do that." Martin blinks. "That is really fucked up. You raised her, and your father disowned you? Was it to keep her away from you?"

"How about we stop talking about this?" Eli floats through the ceiling.

"And he's gone." Danny sighs.

Tim made a confused motion.

"Uh, Eli mentioned he had a sister he basically raised, and his father disowned him to keep him away from her. Danny wants to find her." Martin pauses. "It's been a while since I've translated for the deceased. I'm a bit rusty. I forget how you can't hear the conversation."

"Ouch, but yeah, no, I agree with Danny. The fear thing will take a while, right?" Tim hums. "And if that's the case, we have time to help the others, right?"

"I suppose Tim is right." Gertrude crossed her arms. "My efforts will slow him considerably things considered."

"As i said before, I literally can't get sucked off until Tim dies." Danny huffs.

"Why do you call it that?" Shiro riased his brow.

"Because wisked off seems too whimsical." Danny shrugs.

Martin rubs his face and sighs.

"Did Danny call moving to the next plane getting sucked off again?" Tim snickers when Martin nods.

"Disregarding that... wait, that's possible?" Gerturde blinks shocked.

"Well, yeah, it's possible. You're still very new to this. Things are tricky when it comes to being dead. Uh, I've had some experience talking to others, so let me -

Martin cuts off Danny. "Ghosts attached to a place like this insistute are stuck for a reason normally not known to them, and once that's filled, you'll move on. Ghost attached to loved ones can't move on until their loved one moves on. Other ghosts can't move on because of unfinished business, but they will eventually gain experience while dead to finally move on. Children are never ghosts. Eli is an exception to the rule since his body is still alive. He's still attached even if he doesn't feel it. He's lucky Jonah doesn't drag him along. You're new you havent even truly settled in yet. I've met spirits that are a few tens of thousand year old. It's like purgatory or hell. If you don't learn, you won't be allowed to move on, or something else is keeping you, and you're unable to fix that. Sometimes, that's as simple as cremation, or someone solves your murder. Others, it's incredibly complicated." He sighs. "I've heard old rumors about reapers that used to be around, but I've never seen them nor the spirits who I've talked to. Only the oldest ever seem to mention them."

"How do you know so much?" Shiro looks amazed.

Martin shrugs. "I've been like this my whole life. I was practically raised by the original settlers of Britain. They were much more civilized than the romans I've met."

"Celts?" Tim raised a brow when Martin shook his head.

"Older. I dont think they've been recorded." Martin hums. "That's a story for a different day, but yeah, there's a lot to learn. You won't find it in a book. You have to talk to the others and learn yourself."

Gertrude paused. "I see. I do have a lot to learn. This is out of my realm of expertise. I shall help you with the fears."

"I can help with ghost stuff." Martin smiles, watching Gertrude sink into the floor.

.......

"You killed me out of jealousy, so your opinion has no weight here." A French accent scoffs.

"Barnabas, it's a petty point. We both know Jonah loved you more. That isn't the point! I think that man can see us!" Mordechai motions to Martin, who was staring at them.

"I'm with Barnabas. The living can't see us. Even with the Beholders' power, Jonah can't see us." Robert crossed his arms.

"He can see you three." Eli pulled himself from the floor.

"Good heavens, Elias, can you not do that? There are plenty or staircases in this building. I designed this damn building." Robert huffs.

"Shut up, Smirke. What do you mean by living can see us?" Mordechai points to Martin.

"I'm half dead." Martin sighs, sipping his mug of tea. "Also, can one of you poke into Jonah's office and tell me why it's taking so long for me to be let into his office? He asked me up here about 20 minutes ago."

"Oh, that's easy Peter's visiting." Eli clicks his tongue. "Always feel cold when he does. It shouldn't be much longer unless Peter is horny than I would say. Come back in an hour."

"Ew." Martin pinched his brow.

"Half dead?" Barnabas raised his brow. "Boy, what do you mean?"

Martin looks around the empty darken hall and pulls off one glove. "See?" He ignores the gasps as he puts his glove back on.

"Impossible." Mordechai floats closer. "You shouldn't talk out in the open, Jonah can see and hear you."

Eli with his head through Jonah's office door. He pulls himself back out. "Yeah, no, he's pretty distracted at the moment. At least he kept my body flexible."

"O!" Barnabas slips through the office door.

"Pervert." Robert rolls his eyes. "But this is quite fascinating. Did you have a near death experience, or were you born like this?"

"I was born like this." Martin gets up. "I'll be back later since they're busy together."

"Wait before you go, could you tell us why we're stuck?" Mordechai sighs. "I really rather not be stuck here."

"Just because I can see the dead doesn't mean I know why you're here." Martin shakes his head. "Sorry. I can, however, pass messages over to the living if you have any requests."

"I do, but my family won't talk to you." Mordechai shrugs.

"Is it true Timothy now in the archives wrote a 12 hour dissertation on myself and my work? Daniel was talking about it." Robert smiles.

"Yes. And yes, I've heard it." Martin chuckles, shaking his head. "He does love your work."

"Amazing, you must set up a time we can discuss. That sounds absolutely riveting. Oh, I'll just pop on down and talk with Daniel." Robert sinks through the floor.

Mordechai shakes his head. "Thank you for your offer. However I must implore you to stay away from my family the Lukas's. You don't deserve that kind of death, and serving the Forsaken didn't do shit in my death."

"Um, thank you for the advice." Martin smiles and walks away.

Eli raised a brow. "That was nice and out of character for you."

Mordechai rolls his eyes. "Hush."

......

"Finally, it's Halloween!" Eli laughs. "Time for a festival! New faces and new spirits we can see only once a year."

"Isn't it a bit stereotypical for a ghost to be excited for Halloween?" Gertrude floated through Jonah's desk.

"That is right, you are quite new. This is your first all hallows eve festival." Mordechai hums. "Those who died with instruments live for the holiday. Well, we aren't alive, but Eli does like to perform."

"Oh, it's always a fun affair." Barnabas smiles. "You be surprised how far the property line is for us. Lots of singing and dancing. The oldest of us even come out from the tunnels for the festivities."

Robert nods. "Sure, we can no longer partake in carnal festivities, but that doesn't stop us from having fun. Your first time is always an odd one. You still cling to how you behave as the living when that doesn't matter anymore."

"What that means is let loose have fun. It's not like anyone alive can see us besides Martin. Even Mordechai has fun." Eli elbows Mordechai.

"Elias isn't wrong. I do hope the nice maid comes up from the tunnels. Clara is always a delight." Mordechai chuckles. "Almost convinced her last month to join me up here. She's a lovely little spitfire."

"They've been going back and forth for decades." Barnabas shakes his head. "Both are too proud to compromise, but everyone knows they love each other."

Eli nods. "Its like a will they wont they but both are too stubborn to admit they are in love."

Gertrude hums. "So i will be meeting the others?"

"I mean, they are always curious about the newbies." Robert crossed his arms sitting on Jonah's desk going through his computer. "I've already spread the word."

Eli shudders. "Fuck me, would it kill Jonah to now have sex at his desk." He barely glances at Peter who materializes. "Like I'm all for sexual liberation, but like how hasn't he gotten caught?"

"Years of practice." Barnabas chuckles. "Oh, I could tell you of our days. Of course, we also had to hide the fact of Jonah's privates, but it was still glorious and exhilarating."

"I may of been a slut but at least I wasn't a freak. I caught you both several times." Robert shakes his head. "Anyway, do you think young Timothy has finished his cooraspondace yet? I haven't been this excited in ages."

"I dunno, you'll have to ask Martin or Danny." Eli shrugs. "Anyway, this has been fun, but I have to talk to the others with instruments. I have no idea why they made me the host this year." He sinks through the floor.

"The boy is too modest. He's a great host." Barnabas chuckles softly. "Oh, you're in for a real treat, Gertrude. Elias always makes it a spectacular evening. Alas, he is right, though I have to prepare my performance. French or English this year? I still haven't decided."

"I am partial to your french." Robert smiles. "Although you better decide or someone will request German."

"Bite your tongue!" Barnabas huffs and sinks out with Robert following who was laughing.

"I suppose they argue about that every year." Gertrude smiles softly.

"Every year, but it's all in good fun. I suppose I am glad they dressed me properly before I died." Mordechai hums. "Come along. I suppose I could introduce you to some who come up early. They are always out in the yard while everything gets set up." He holds out his hand, which Gertrude takes.

"For the first Lukas, you are quite cordial." Gertrude looks skeptical.

"The forsaken didn't do shit but create problems in retrospect. The fears hold no power once you're dead. Speaking if which I do not envy Simon. He's nothing but a fool. I am fortunate enough I do not have to watch my family suffer due to my mistakes. Peter, i am proud of at least being different enough to be in a good relationship, even if it's with Jonah. I've watched long enough to see the outcome of my hubris."

Gertrude hums. "I suppose I have forgotten it has been over two hundred years for you. Very well lead the way." She takes his hand, and they go through the wall.

......

"Ugh, can you guys wake up now? It's Halloween, and I want to see the others!" Danny groans.

Tim's eyes flew open, and he stared up at his very clearly dead brother. He shrieked. "What the fuck!"

Martin was startled awake. "What?!" He sits up going through Danny.

"Nightmares suck dont they, anyway can you both get there early today it's Halloween and you know what happens. Eli is even hosting it's going to be great!" Danny floats back.

"Dan-Danny?" Tim stares at his dead brother.

Martin is now wide awake. "You can see him?!"

"Wait, you see me?" Danny pauses floating really close to Tim's face. "You can see me! I wonder why? Martin, do you know why?"

Martin shakes his head. "Again, I'm not an expert on this stuff! Maybe the older spirits might know."

"Danny... I..." Tim swallows. "You look like shit."

"I'm dead. What's your excuse?" Danny snickers.

"You woke me up." Tim smiles wide.

"I did!" Danny grins.

Martin sighs. "I'll make breakfast."

.......

"You are not seeing your dead parents." Jon mumbles under his breath as he is the third to arrive to the archives, which never happens. "You're perfectly sane and just need new glasses." He looks up seeing Martin and Tim, which is incredibly odd, but he also sees elias without eyes and a man that looks similar to Tim in a very realistic distasteful costume.

"Oh, morning, bossman!" Tim smiles wide waving. He was wearing a cat ear headband and a matching tail.

"Can you see me too?" The man who looked similar to Tim rushed forward, making Jon stumbled back. "Ooo, I'll take that as a yes! Good morning, Jon and Shiro, and May. Are you two excited for the celebration tonight?"

"We would be if we knew why the living could suddenly see us." May rubs her arm. "Again sorry Jon for scaring you."

"Stop scaring Jon, Daniel." Shiro sighs.

Danny huffs. "I ain't scaring anyone."

Martin chuckles softly. "Danny, you do look scary to those who don't know what happened to you."

Danny scoffs floating back by Tim. "At least I have my eyes still."

"Fuck you." Elias stick up his middle finger. "I can still see you're a little bitch."

Tim snorts. "I'm sorry I can't get over how fucking different you actually are. I thought Martin was fucking with me."

Jon swallows and takes a breath. "Just what is going on!"

"Long or short explanation? Because the short one is that the living can suddenly see us and we have no idea why or when it started. The long reason is you probably have to ask the oldest ones here for answers, but they are still in the tunnels." Elias shrugs. "Honestly, I'm surprised Robert hasn't flown down here yet to bother Tim, but i think that's because they haven't realized the rest of the living can see us."

"Your parents have been attached to you since they died. They'll move once when you die." Martin sighs. "I've been able to see the dead since I was born, so this is weird for me as well." He holds up his uncovered hands.

"Same for me. I'm stuck to my brother till he dies. I'll say it again you better live a long fucking life!" Danny huffs.

"Nobody lives long working in the archives." Gertrude slips through the wall.

"And there's the ray of sunshine that is Gertrude." Eli sighs heavily. "Surprise, she isn't missing she's dead."

"Who in God's name are you speaking to?" Gertrude gives an unimpressed look.

Tim waves. "Us we can see you today for some reason."

"Good heavens." Gertrude gasps.

"Ooo, do you think if I bother Rosie, we can talk some office gossip?" Eli hums. "Nah, she's terrified of Jonah she won't talk to me."

Jon rubs his face. "I have so many questions. This can't be real."

"Oh, it is." Gertrude narrows her gaze. "Now that we can talk, I can warn you and tell you you have to handle this position to stay alive."

"Oh yes, that would be great." May smiles. "Come on, Jonathan, this is important."

"You have much to learn." Gertrude sighs.

........

Danny huffs. "It is nice to meet you, Sasha, but you've lost Tim for like the rest of the day." He motions to Tim in a very animated conversation with Robert.

"Is that..?" Sasha motions.

"Yeah, that's Robert Smirke." Danny groans. "Its bad enough they've been pen pals."

Martin shakes his head. "Let him have this."

Sasha furrows her brows. "What do you mean by pen pals?"

Danny points to Martin's hands. "That isn't a costume. Martin is self-proclaimed half dead. Although born dead is a cooler title."

Martin rolls his eyes. "That won't catch on. Now, if you'll excuse me, I will be making some tea. Lord knows Jon needs it."

"Yeah, Gertrude isn't sparing any detail." Danny grimaced. "She's still pretty new to this being dead thing."

"I'm back!" A soft voice interrupts. "Oh, I am very glad I came back for Halloween."

"Micheal!" Danny waves.

"Gertrude's assistant Micheal?" Sasha gasps.

"Oh, right, hello. I was warned about this from some of the ancient ones. Something about the moon and such. I'm kind of like Eli, but I'm stuck to my husk of a body and not the insistute. Anyway, did I miss anything?" Micheal smiles.

"My brother and Robert have not stopped talking. Eli is debating on confronting Jonah. Martin is making tea, and Gertrude is talking to Jon, the new Archivist." Danny sighs. "The old ones are still climbing out of the dirt."

"Oh, that's great last year. I missed all the fun stuff. I hope I stay for everything." Micheal smiles.

"Fun?" Sasha looked over to Micheal.

"Oh, every Halloween, all the ghosts here throw a big festival. Eli is hosting this year, and all the people who died with instruments have a blast. I'm not much of a performer, but the others do put on a great show. It's dancing singing and fun all around." Micheal chuckles. "Honestly, this is the first year I will be able to see Eli host, and I heard it's a real treat."

"That does sound fun." Sasha hums. "This happens every year?"

"Yes!" Danny jumps up. "It's something I always look forward to."

"Oh shit welcome back, Micheal." Eli pokes his head through the ceiling. "Anyway, I need your opinion. Should I confront Jonah? I mean, he's still with Peter , so there's another person, but also, the other avatars are coming tonight as well. Wait shit isn't this place doing a collab with ODIAR? Ugh, more variables. Do I even want to confront him? Like there isn't anything I can do yaknow. Like fuck you for stealing my body and killing me. Wait, why am I even asking you you still haven't even yelled at Gertrude for killing you?" He groans.

"Holy shit I thought you were lying about the body snatching thing." Sasha blinks, staring at Eli.

"I was not." Martin sighs, handing her a warm mug of tea. "You should just talk to him. If anything, it will bring some sort of closure, and you can tell him to stay away from your sister."

"That is a very good point." Eli sighs. "I should probably do that before Barnabas realizes Jonah can see him." He floats back through the ceiling.

"You know all the ghosts here?" Sasha looks back to Danny.

Danny makes a so so motion. "I have a 30-foot radius around Tim that I can move around. Eli knows most of them, but you have better luck asking Robert, Barnabas, or Mordechai since they're the oldest that don't stay in the tunnels. The really old guys perfer the underground because watching the world change can get depressing."

Micheal nods. "Being tethered to someone isn't as great as it seems. I mean from my experience. Granted, I'm attached to the thing puppeteer my body, and it kills and eats people. But I have seen Gerry again, and that's always great. By the way, Gerry said he's happy Jonah killed Gertrude."

Danny snorts. "Of course, he would say that. He's another guy Gertrude got killed. The list is quite long actually, sucks that Gerry is trapped in a book."

"Gertrude killed people?" Sasha looked bewildered as Martin entered Jon's office.

"Oh, you have no idea." Micheal chuckles. "She was ruthless. Even if what she did meant, the fears wouldn't win. I really don't care about the fears anymore since they can't affect the dead."

"Ooo wait, is the stranger that killed me going to be here?" Danny gasps as Micheal nods. "Fuck yeah I'm going to haunt the shit out of them since they can see me."

.......

"Alright, don't scream. I have a few things to say." Eli floats through the floor. "One dick move taking over my body, but I'm pretty much over it at this point. Two the suits are tacky and pompous. Three stop having sex in this office, your office, where you're going to get caught, besides the fact that Barnabas likes to watch." He huffs sitting on Jonah's desk. "Also, your god will not serve you when you die. None of them will. Honestly, the fears have no effect on the dead. Also, hello Peter, nice to actually speak to you for once."

Jonah blinks. "Is that all?"

"I mean, what else can I say? I'm dead Jonah it's not like I can do anything but watch at this point. The irony is not lost on me." Eli sighs. "Also stay the fuck away from my sister."

"You have a sister?" Peter stares at Eli.

"Huh." Eli deflates. "Never mind then."

"So why are you here?" Jonah crossed his arms, leaning back. "I didn't think you had any earthly matters to attend to."

"That's not really how it works." Eli lays down on the desk. "I'm still somewhat attached to my body, but not enough. I'm tethered to it. Uh, like Micheal Shelly to the creature using his body like a puppet or Danny attached to his brother. I'm stuck here in the insistute well this entire property. Which is much bigger than you would think."

"So why are you here? Why is Mordechai here?" Peter frowns.

Eli shrugs. "There isn't excatly a manual for this. I stopped being mad about this like two decades ago. There isn't really a point to clinging to anger. As for the others here again, I don't know. Mordechai is just happy he isn't confined to that family home of yours. Anyway, I should go before Barnabas shows up. I've said my piece." He throws up a peace sign and sinks through the desk through the floor.

"W-wait." Jonah curses. "I have more questions."

Peter frowns. "Do all the dead have the injury that killed them?"

"More or less." Barnabas floats through the wall, startling the two. He motions to his skeletal frame, clearly showing he died of starvation. "Unfortunately, Mordechai didn't let me drown."

"Do you all just float through?" Jonah takes a breath.

"Why wouldn't we? It's not like living can normally see us." Barnabas hums softly. "It is quite nice to finally speak to you again, Jonah."

"He does have a point." Peter shrugs.

"Thank you." Barnabas smiles. "Anyhow, we do have a lot to catch up on. Although Smirke is in a heated discussion with Timothy, Mordechai is with his love Clara, who just returned to the surface. Oh, this year you can actually join in the festivities. It will be quite fun."

......

"Ladies and Gentlemen, or whatever you think yourself to be in ain't judging." Eli shouts, and his voice seems to echo over the fair grounds like he was everywhere. "Now this Halloween is a special one. The living can see us! Exciting, I know, but don't let that spoil our fun. Now, to the living joining us, I'm the actual Elias Bouchard, the one who stole my body, life, and eyes is one Jonah Magnus, so do with that what you will. I dont care. I'm dead."

A few snickers from the dead ring out.

"Now, to start off this spectacular, I would normally perform the opening act. However, it would be rude of me to ignore the living in the room." Eli smirks as there is laughter. "Now feel free to mingle, scare, or just converse about modern-day politics with the living, and when I give a shout, whoever gets the first bar starts the performance! The rules remain the same, but we do have a newly dead with us now."

Gertrude blinks as eyes land on her.

"So! Rules are first to start their performance has the stage until it's over, then you have to be fast to be the next one to start next. Dancing, singing, jokes, or just stories you wish to share are all fair game. Most audience participation will be the winner, so have fun, and myself being the host means I have no skin in this fight."

Danny loudly laughs.

"Oh, that always gets the Strangers victims a laugh. Keep an eye out for my signal for the festivities to start! Enjoy talking to the living. Also, to avoid last year's brawl, please stick to English. Seriously, there is only so much room in the tunnels for you guys to sulk, im looking at you, Barnabas."

Barnabas sticks up his middle finger as Robert snickers.

"Now to the living, try not to die, alright? I ain't going to hold your hand through the learning curve." Eli chuckles as there is more laughter. "I'm just fucking with you guys. Enjoy the show, everyone!"

More cheers erupts from the dead.

#the magnus archives #tma

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loregoddess · 1 year ago

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tagged by @fayesdiary, thanks!

Favorite color: green! although I like purples and blues a lot too

Currently watching: A handful of shows via cable, and also, uh....I started watching Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles out of curiosity and have actually been having a lot of fun watching it....

Last Movie/TV Show: Pretty sure the last movie I watched was Friday the 13th (first time seeing it in my life, it was okay but there are better horror movies out there), and the last show I finished was Life On Our Planet over on Netflix (that was fun to watch, even if the writers took a lot of creative liberties).

Spicy/Savory/Sweet: Eh, savory I guess? Although I don't mind sweet if it's not like, super sweet (actually I prefer plain and bitter flavors best). Definitely not spicy though.

Current Obsession: Uhhh, I guess Fire Emblem bc I'm replaying Three Hopes and thinking about all the things that could have been added that weren't (to both Houses and Hopes). Although Octopath has been on my mind a lot lately as well. Eventually I'm gonna sit down and figure out every possible way the timeline can split after Skyward Sword so I can put my timeline theory stuff for BotW/TotK to rest in my head, but...I'm not as focused on LoZ at the moment. I'm also thinking about a few of my personal projects that I never talk about, as I've finally figured out some of the plot for one of my many original story ideas (and now need to actually write it down somewhere so I don't forget) and am currently working on a different story idea as well.

Last Thing I Googled: "name for a person who makes cobblestone roads"

and hmmm, I'll tag @lookerdewitt, and @alynnl but only if you feel up to it!

#tag game #oracle of lore #fun fact I did not find a good answer from my last google search bc ''roadworker'' doesn't sound cool enough for a fantasy story #and ''cobbler'' had like three different definitions so I uh...eventually just settled on ''road cobbler''#it was for a throwaway line of dialogue that I'm not even sure I'm gonna keep

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kuichihimei · 1 year ago

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“Kuya tuloy parin ba ang movie marathon naten mamaya?” (Kuya are we still gonna have our movie marathon later?)

“Ay, nakalimutan ko palang sabihin sa inyo— Sorry, hindi siya matutuloy, may date kasi ako eh...” (Oh, I forgot to tell you all— Sorry, we can't, because I have a date tonight...)

“Date?” Nico chimes in. “Sino ba yung ka-date mo?” (Who are you going on a date with?)

“I'll do you one better, bakit may gustong mag-date sayo?” (Why does someone want to go on a date with you?) Miguel enters the conversation.

“Wow, thanks for the support Miguel—”

“So that explains why you reek of axe body spray!” Nico exclaimed in realization.

“And why you're wearing a blazer in this blazing heat!” Miguel adds.

“Is the place fancy? What's their name? Where are they from? What do they look like?”

“Ok, ok slow down! Yes the place is fancy, her name is Amanda, I don't know where she lives yet aaaaaand you'll meet her later since she's the one who's gonna pick me up, happy Aira?”

“So girlfriend mo na ba siya? Alam na ba nina Mama at Papa?” (So she's already your girlfriend? Does Mama and Papa know?)

“Depending on if the date goes well, ipapakilala ko siya bilang girlfriend ko kina Mama at Papa.” (I'll introduce her as my girlfriend to Mama and Papa.)

“Mabait ba po siya?” (Is she nice?)

“Siempre naman Nico! Mabait, maganda at matalino, full-package siya!” (Of course she is Nico! She's nice, pretty and smart, she's the full-package!)

“Anong oras kaba niya susuduin?” (What time is she gonna pick you up?)

“She'll be here right about...”

*The doorbell rings.*

“Now! Be nice to her ok? Behave kayo.” Randy rushes to open the door.

His younger siblings run towards the living room and try to catch a glimpse of her from behind the sofa (because you know, patay-hiya kami).

From what they could see from behind the sofa, they saw a really pretty girl. Randy wasn't kidding, she was drop dead gorgeous;

she had long black hair that was down to her knees and was wearing an aubergine cocktail dress with with black heels.

Randy hands her a purple clematis flower. Soon after, mumbling could be heard from the two.

Randy sounds like he was trying to convince her into doing something, while she adamantly refuses to do whatever it was he wanted her to do.

He eventually wears her down, and much to her displeasure, follows him to approach the living room sofa where his younger siblings were hiding.

“Ok guys, I want you all to meet your Ate Amanda—”

“Just Amanda is alright, no need for anything extra...” Narrowing her eyes in disgust while looking towards his younger siblings.

“Well, okay then! I'm just gonna grab my wallet from upstairs then we could head out together. Okay?”

“Uh-huh, be quick!” She yells as he runs up the stairs.

When he was out of earshot, Amanda's demeanor changed completely.

“Alright you brats, listen here...” She snarled, slow and stern, as she approaches the three little kids, bending down to their level.

The two older boys instinctively try to place their younger sister behind them, but Aira slips through and decides to introduce herself.

“Hello, it's nice to meet you! I'm Aira—”

“I don't care to know about your names, as long as you don't get in the way, I might spare you.”

The three kids were confused, what does she mean by that?

“You see, your brother and I have this thing that's been going on for... quite some time already...” She explains while fiddling with the petals of the flower he gave her.

“...”

“There's some loose ends, that I'd like to tie up...” She rips a petal off.

“...”

“I have been looking for him... for a very long time now...” She rips another petal off.

“...”

“He has a very important job to fulfill here at Norrisville, am I correct?” Another petal gets ripped off.

“...”

“And I'm sure you're aware that I also have a very important job to fulfill as well, which is to... get rid of him.”

“...”

“You know the reason, and so do I... So don't even try to make him stay, I have him wrapped around my finger, he's coming with me either way...” She states as crushes the flower inside her hand.

“He belongs... To me now...”

#rc9gn #sorry if it's not coherent #i'll probably edit it later tho—#christmas in june is still ongoing #randy cunningham #amanda levay

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brick-a-doodle-do · 2 years ago

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You know what, fuck it.

All 50 questions, go

........................okay..! i'll do c!brick :D

1 : do they have any crafting hobbies?

of course she does! she's a borrower! brick is really good with a needle so she makes a lot of like blankets and tapestries, occasionally clothes too :D andd honestly she'll use anything to make anything,,,

2 : do they wear perfume/cologne? if so what scents do they prefer?

brick doesn't wear perfume because she doesn't know what it is. and if she did, she wouldn't touch it :) (i hate perfume irl too)

3 : do they enjoy cooking?

no, she wants things that need no preparation!

4 : do they enjoy baking?

no for the same reason, but she likes baked goods. then again no one's thrown her into a kitchen before,,,

5 : do they have any tattoos? if so what are they and do they have any meaning?

no tattoos!

(more under cut)

6: if they were badly injured, and for whatever reason couldn't go to a hospital, who would they go to for help?

well she can't go to a hospital at all, so the only thing to do would be to go to c!orchid or c!becky

7 : do they have any unusual fears?

c!brick is pretty fearless because of her cockiness and need to be brave. and if you look deep down inside her she doesn't have anything particularly unusual. i mean.....if being crushed under a hand or squeezed to death counts as unusual to a non-g/t fellow,,,

8 : do they collect anything? if so what and why?

she collects lil pieces of stone when she's outside. sometimes she does stuff with it but there's just a growing pile of pebbles and rubble in the corner of her room. the first lil piece of stone she found was a brick, hence the name :D there's no real reason behind this

she also collects the normal borrower stuff: bits of scrap, matches, string, etc.

9 : when they're sick what do they do to feel better?

she's standoffish as hell so she wouldn't immediately go to c!orchid or c!becky unless she was like dying, so she would stick to herself for a while until caving and maybe asking a human for help. but to feel better, she'll usually just craft something. maybe rearrange stuff in her room (terrible for being sick but mentally it calms her)

10 : do they have any regrets?

not really. being seen by c!becky and eventually meeting c!orchid can sometimes linger in her mind at night but she doesn't exactly regret it, it's just that underlying fear from when she bothered to follow some of borrower code

11 : do they have any addictions?

nope! she likes a lot of things in one serving

12 : do they have a sense of style? regardless of the answer do they believe they have a sense of style?

a borrower's clothing style (and just general style) depends a lot on the material that their human has, and more specifically the stuff they can get their hands on. but from what c!brick gets, she thinks she has a nifty gift for knowing how things will look.

13 : do they enjoy poetry?

she has no idea what that is! if she did, though, she probably wouldn't. she'd appreciate it but it won't hold her interest

14 : do they have a hard time opening up to people?

yes! chatting with her can come kind of easily (more so than actually opening up) but it takes a while for her to warm up to people

15 : what kind of sense of humor do they have? or do they have one at all?

i'm not going to bother thinking of a whole new sense of humor, so my humor. she has my humor.

16 : do they want or have kids?

she doesn't have any, and never wants any

17 : how easily would they be convinced to do something that goes against their morals?

it would take a while, if it ever did work. she does things a certain way and generally she doesn't like ruining that flow! very stubborn

18 : how easy is it to become their enemy?

very easy! even with the newfound friendship with c!orchid & c!becky, brick still kind of sees them like a playful threat. so imagine that but there's no underlying joke

19 : how easy is it to become their friend?

eh, depends. like i said, it takes a while for her to warm up to people, so therefore she doesn't exactly just click with people. and as she likes doing things her own speed, she prefers if people don't try and pry her out of her home or out of her comfort level (which is pretty non-existent considering her whole "fearless" facade. so it'd take a few weeks to be acquaintances, maybe a month for friendship. could be longer,,

20 : do they have a strong connection to their culture?

ehhhh not really. from the start she never really bother obeying borrower code because she knew the danger but also took into consideration how a handful humans don't throw a fit when they see a bug and knew there was some hope.

21 : what is more important to them: friends or family?

friends all the way. she doesn't really have any family because they left her on her own once she reached a certain age and she hasn't seen them, or any other borrower, ever since :)

22 : would they ever betray anyone for money?

money has no value to brick, but she probably would if it did or if she was human,,,,

23 : how would they want to die?

in a fight with a cat. context? nuhuh :)

24 : do they have any enemies?

everyone is kind of her enemy. sometimes in a playful way and other times in a genuine way

25 : do they have a daily/night routine?

as a borrower there isn't a ton you could do to spice up your day. it's either walls, house, or outside. so she kind of follows a routine of borrowing in the late night if she needs something, practicing hobbies during the day and venturing around the house in the early morning. but after she meets c!orchid & c!becky they do more spontaneous things since yk..humans

26 : have they met any of their heroes? did they regret it?

brick doesn't really have any heroes, her life has been independently done for her whole life

27 : has a chance encounter ever had an unexpected effect on them?

c!becky finding her ofc! that turned her life right around :D

28 : are they a #gamer

of course 😎 (no)

29 : if they were real would you be friends with them?

100%, she seems SO cool

30 : if they had the chance to be famous would they take it? if they are famous would they rather they weren't?

she probably would take the opportunity to be famous. just because

31 : what superpower would you choose for them and what would they choose for themselves? if they have one would they choose something else?

i would choose shapeshifting for her and she would choose invisibility!

32 : if they could change one thing about themself, what would it be?

she would change nothing! she is surprisingly satisfied with herself

33 : do they play ttrpgs? if so what kind of characters do they play? or are they more likely to gm?

they don't play ttrpgs but if she did she would get SO invested in acting out things. (tinies playing ttrpgs are my favorite thing ever)

she would probably be some like evil character with a god complex with a terribly high amount of betrayal arcs that are way too packed together to even be surprising anymore,,

34 : how well do they deal with grief?

she hasn't experienced it yet, but she would probably be bad at it and have unhealthy coping mechanisms

35 : do they believe in fate or do they believe that they are in charge of their own destiny?

she believes she's in charge of her own destiny! but there's also a part of her that believes everything happens for a reason, which is a part of her trying not to be so pessimistic about everything

36 : would they ever kill someone? have they already?

she would probably kill someone. not intentionally (maybe) but by accident maybe if she took one of her schemes too far

37 : are they religious? if so do they have a strong sense of faith, are they uncertain, or are they somewhere in between?

she's agnostic (leaning on atheist) with a sprinkle of unsure pantheism (like me :D)

38 : what are their dreams like? do they have any recurring dreams/nightmares?

brick rarely dreams. rarely rarely. when she does she barely remembers it in the morning and just continues on with life, unbothered by any nightmares or dreams she may have had!

39 : would they ever crash a wedding?

for fun, yes. for personal benefit, also yes, but it's more unlikely.

40 : if they found a sword in a stone would they try to pull it out? how would they react to being able to pull it out or not?

she would try and pull it out despite being so small, and DESPITE BEING SMALL, she would complain about it and call it rigged

41 : do they learn from their mistakes?

for about 2.7 days then she does it again :D

42 : can they speak multiple languages? if yes what do they speak and why?

brick speaks english and that's it. they've picked up the general like "hola" and "uno" but other than that she's boring

43 : can they handle stressful situations?

yes! she works really well under pressure, especially if she's yelling at someone :D

44 : who, if anyone, would she trust with her deepest secrets?

nobody. maybe a bug

45 : do they plan in advance or just wing it?

wing it! sometimes she'll make a rough outline for a plan but generally she just goes into it headfirst and hopes for the best

46 : would they lie to get out of trouble?

absolutely. she's really good at it too despite never being in a situation like that,,

47 : would they lie to get someone else out of trouble? even if they would have to take someone else's place?

she would lie to get someone out of trouble if they were close to her. she does like snitching. but she probably wouldn't do it to take their place unless they're REALLY close to this person

48 : how likely are they to go on a quest for revenge?

as soon as someone does something inconvenient to her, she's plotting revenge. this is the only time she plans something

49 : do they have trouble keeping their enemies and their friends straight?

she's small, so it's not easy, but she definitely tries to keep people straight. sometimes it works, but more often than not it doesn't,,,,

50 : what is your favorite thing about them?

ehhh appearance maybe? this is for borrower!brick not the like more non-human brick i have in the works but still i like her appearance a lot! her personality is close behind bc i stole it from techno & george sdhfdgdfjs

wow orchid you really just had me to do that...

t- thanks for the ask :'D

ask game !!

#brickquiries #orchid brickling #orchid my belovedd #brickquiries games #c!brick #personal lore

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