#major angst Tumblr posts

[goldendynastys]

wonderland | c.s. (pt. 2)

summary: being home alone with your pets has always put you on edge, especially at night when you get extremely anxious. you thought you were over it towards the end of your parents’ vacation, but when a random stranger breaks in one night and insists on taking you with him, everything you once knew had begun to change. you knew how your story would end, you just weren’t sure if it was for the better, or the worst.

pairing: choi san x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+, MDNI | yandere, angst, fluff, eventual smut word count: 10.3k warning/tags: yandere, kidnapping, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, obsession, somewhat toxic relationship, fast burn, reader is innocent, angst, arguments between san and reader, lots of fluff, pet names, i think that is it but please let me know if i missed anything (i’m new at this), i hope you enjoy reading! <3

disclaimer: all members of Ateez are faces and name claims for this story. this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios.

────────────────────── chapter two, echoes of the unknown (← previous | next →)

It had only been a week since you were taken by that thing (you hated calling San by his first name, he didn’t deserve it), and it had truly been the longest week of your life. He was constantly smothering you whenever he could, flirting and teasing you. How did he not see that this was wrong? How fucked up this situation was? It bothered you to no end, and you did everything in your power to avoid San as much as possible.

The first few days were easy; low and behold, he also had a Pitbull named Gunner and a German Shepherd named Tank, who required a good amount of attention. Thankfully, you opted to spend as much time with them as you could so San could “get a break” (when in reality, it was just so you didn’t have to spend time with him). Though San trained them in a way that would allow them to find you if you were to ever escape, they were quite sweet. Supposedly, he had rescued them from being forced into dogfighting three years ago, and they were with him ever since. You thought they deserved a better owner than him, but you were glad he didn’t treat them terribly.

The last two days, however, were the worst. San didn’t have any work obligations coming up, so he decided it would be best if the two of you spent time together. So, he nearly forced you to cuddle with him on the couch after dinner and watch television. His grip was tight, tight enough to keep you in place no matter how hard you tried to move. Though he didn’t say much, except for gently stroking your hair or kissing your forehead, it was still exhausting being in his presence. You wanted nothing more than to just punch him in the face and make a run for it.

Your plans to escape were delayed, but that was because of your revelation that you would get caught if you went too soon. Of course, it’s expected that the kidnapee wants to escape as soon as possible and they’ll take the first chance they get. If you wanted to escape successfully, you would have to wait a little longer. More than a few days, but not more than a month or two. Once you hit a month, you’d take an opportunity you were given to bolt.

For now, you waited. You waited and put up with San’s bullshit, no matter how much it made your skin crawl. Despite how evil and annoying you thought he was, he didn’t treat you terribly. He didn’t yell at you when you protested against him, he never physically hurt you, he always made sure you ate food. It was the bare fucking minimum, but it was better than being treated like actual shit. You could put up with this for a few more weeks, but that’s it.

This morning made it hard for you to stay put and do nothing. You had a dream while you slept, your first one since you got here. It was the weekend before Halloween, one of your favorite holiday’s of the year. Your family held a costume party for the Sons of Anarchy, where everyone would gather at your house and sit by the bonfire, or watch scary movies in the living room. It was just a peaceful night, sharing laughs with your family and singing old songs your parents and the older members loved. It was the first time you felt connected to the group, like you were actually one of them. 

When you first woke up, you thought you were at home. You assumed your mother would be downstairs cooking breakfast while your dad read the paper, your brother groggily walking in to pour himself a glass of orange juice. You were waiting for your dog to break into your room and cuddle with you until you decided to get up for the day. 

Your stomach dropped once you realized you weren’t at home. No, the sheets were rougher than normal, the material completely different than what you had on your bed. The sun hit your face less in this room, as compared to how hard it hit you in your’s. And as much as you loved having San’s cat, Pip, curled right next to your legs, your cat at home never slept with you, she preferred to sleep alone in her bed downstairs. All of this made you realize that you were no longer at home, and it was all just a silly little dream.

You could feel a pang of anxiety hit your chest, now wanting to stay in bed for as long as you could. You still had no idea what San was capable of, he was terrifying. He could be putting on this sweet and loving act to get you to trust him, and then bam! He would suddenly turn cold and treat you horribly. Everyday, you wondered what he was going to be like, and it was exhausting. You were growing sick and tired of being in this place, and he was making it harder for you everyday. You wanted to leave right this instant, but you knew you had to wait, and it made you angry.

Pip kept rubbing against you. It was cute at first, as all cats were, but you knew it was because she had to get out of the room, whether she was hungry or needed the bathroom. You knew opening the door would make a sound, therefore causing him to hear it and thinking you are awake, which would make him talk to you. And you were not in the mood to speak to him. You never would be, as a matter of fact. Carefully, you opened the bedroom door and helped his cat get out, quietly closing it so San wouldn’t hear you.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again. Only an hour had passed, however, but you felt more awake than you did before. The house felt quieter, too. You could just sense it, there weren't a lot of sounds from downstairs and no music playing. San must’ve left for “work” or had to go out and run errands. You hoped he did, and you hoped he would be gone all day.

The cool air hit your legs as you made your way downstairs. Cold mornings were something you enjoyed, especially during the spring and summer months. It made you feel more awake, ready to take on the day. The weather seemed promising — if it stayed this way, you for sure were going to escape and find your way back home. 

There were no sounds coming from the kitchen or living room. The house felt completely empty and a sense of relief washed over you. However, it was quickly crushed when you heard music coming from one of the rooms down the long hallway. Fucking hell. San must’ve been working out and just now decided to put on some music. At least you didn’t have to deal with him first thing in the morning, you at least needed an hour before you were “ready” to speak to him.

You planned on ignoring him until you heard laughter and some grunts. He wasn’t alone. It’s not like you cared or anything, you just wanted to know who exactly was in the same space you were also in. You wanted to make sure they weren’t more insane than San was, that they wouldn’t try to hurt or murder you for simply existing. It was a reasonable explanation for why you were going to see him. Nothing more, nothing less.

Silently, you made your way to the gym, walking gently so they wouldn’t be able to hear you. Once you got closer, you placed your hands on the wall and brought your ear closer to the door. In the gym was San, as expected, but there were two men that you had never seen before. One had short brown hair and was slightly buff (he reminded you of a brown bear), while the other was slightly taller and had long, black hair (and was undeniably gorgeous; perhaps it was the way he had half of his hair tied back in a ponytail). The two of them spotted San while he lifted some heavy dumbbells. 

“So when are you getting your girl again?” San asked as he slowly lifted the weight up. “I think I’m good after this set, I’m just going to sit on the cable row machine.”

San swiftly moved from the weights to the cable row machine. As he began to pull back on it, you couldn’t help but notice the way his chest pushed out whenever he went back, and how big his muscles looked. You continued to stare at him while we worked back and forth (though you were mentally scolding yourself for looking at him that way).

The slightly buff man only shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, I wanted to get her on Saturday, but Hongjoong was pissed off about it. He says that you and I doing it back-to-back wasn’t good for business. He says that we can take time off whenever we want, so I don’t get why he’s mad at us for going at the same time. Either way, I’m getting her soon.”

The way they spoke about this entire situation made you want to vomit. How could anyone say such terrible things? “Getting his girl” as in kidnapping her and taking her away from her family? How was this normalized between this group of men? Why was this normalized? There had to be a deeper reason for this, why they all collectively acted this way. You wanted to figure out why — maybe it could help you escape and get them thrown in prison.

The taller man shrugged his shoulders. “It’s because we have a lot going on these next few weeks. Drug deals, fights, meetings — we can do whatever we want, yeah, but Hongjoong and I want everyone there to make sure everyone knows what’s going on. It’s so we can all work efficiently, and when two people are out, it can cause a small problem.”

“Fair, but man do I want to go and get my girl. She’s so beautiful, I just want to bring her home,” he explained with a dramatic sigh. “Any advice on how to get her? How long will it take for her to warm up to me?” 

San let out a laugh. “I can’t tell you that, Jongho. My girl doesn’t even like me, she’s still pissed off that I took her away. She refuses to look at me, and talks back whenever I try to have a talk with her. I’m not sure what your girl is like, but mine is kind of a brat. It’s hot, but she doesn’t go down without a fight. So I don’t know, you just have to go with the flow, I guess.”

“If she talks back, then why don’t you punish her? If you punish her, then she’ll stop fighting back and will actually listen to you,” the taller man suggested.

“No, I don’t think it’s smart. And it’s so old-fashioned, too. She’s not a dog, she can have reactions and thoughts about things. I’m not gonna punish her for that. Do I wish it was easier and that she was nicer to me? No shit. But that’s the way it is right now. When she’s fallen completely in love with me, it’ll be easier. Not sure when that’ll happen, since I think she literally wants to kill me, but it’ll happen one day. I just know it,” San explained.

“I think that day’s going to come sooner than you thought, Sannie,” the taller man interrupted with a smirk on his face, looking directly at you.

The other two turned their heads to see you standing in the hallway. A smirk rose on San’s face, while you immediately turned around and tried to sprint down the hallway. You were stopped, however, once Gunner and Tank came running towards you, happy as ever. They began to circle and sniff you as part of their morning ritual, and you weren’t able to move. Great.

You felt San’s arms wrap around your waist and turn you around. A wide smile was on his face, clearly happy to see you. “Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?”

When he tried to give you a kiss, you immediately put your hand in front of your face near his lips. “Ew. Your breath stinks and I just threw up. It’s too early for this.”

A look of concern rose on his face, placing a gentle kiss on the palm of your hand. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me? Was it something you ate?”

You immediately got grossed out and wiped your hand on his black tank top, which you realized was covered in sweat from his workout. You were clearly seething, but you decided to keep your mouth shut. “I’m fine, I don’t need your help. In fact, it was actually the most peace I’ve felt since I was forced here against my will. I really wish I could have that peace all the time.”

Jongho couldn’t help but laugh at your words, the other man joining in as well. “When you said she was a brat, you weren’t kidding. You forgot to tell us she was funny, too.”

Your face scrunched up in disgust. You wanted to smack him in the head for his awful comment — everyone in the room, actually. Subconsciously, however, you noticed yourself shifting more closer to San, your hand now on his chest as you looked at the two other men. Perhaps it was because out of all of them, you knew San the best and wanted to be closest to the person most familiar to you. You still hated him, of course, you just wanted to be by him in case the other men tried to do something and you needed protection. Your hatred for Choi San would never change.

San chuckled. “She’s a comedian for sure.”

He then introduced them to you, telling them your name to be polite (even though they already knew who you were). He spoke your name again when it was your turn to meet them. “The man on your left is Jongho, and the other is Seonghwa.”

“Hi?” You introduced yourself, confused. “Not sure if I’m supposed to be happy about meeting you, given the circumstances.”

“Don’t worry, we know who you are. San over here wouldn’t shut up about you for months. We’re finally glad he got off his ass and finally made a move,” Jongho joked, making Seonghwa snicker at his comment.

You could see San’s cheeks turn pink as he said those comments, but remained collected nonetheless. “As if you weren’t all excited and annoying when you found your girl. You can’t stop talking about her! Is it wrong for me to praise and show off my girl?”

“Yes, on so many levels,” you cut in.

The men just stared at you, San rolling his eyes at your behavior. He just ignored your comment and focused on his friends. “Sorry, how else am I supposed to act when I’ve found the woman of my dreams?”

Seonghwa chuckled. “Okay, fair. I was the same when Hongjoong and I started going out. But that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t annoying.”

“It’s true. I seriously considered slapping you in the face to get you to snap out of it. And San, too,” Jongho joked. The thought brought a small smile to your face, but you kept to yourself. 

San only shrugged his shoulders and pulled you into his chest more. “Love will make you do crazy things, I guess.”

“Indeed it does,” Seonghwa agreed. “But I do think Jongho and I have to leave now. We have to shower before our meeting and errands today. You’re meeting us in, like, two hours?”

“Yeah, I just need to shower and I’ll meet up with all of you. Thanks for coming out today, bro. I appreciate it,” San answered. The way we said that and the words he chose made you cringe. Maybe it was because you hated the way  “gym bros” spoke to each other and how unintelligent they sounded. You knew it was bad to assume that all gym bros were unintelligent, but you weren’t entirely wrong. Especially with San and his friends — they certainly weren’t the kindest people and perhaps they weren’t the brightest, either.

Seonghwa nodded and turned towards you, and Jongho did the same. “Nice meeting you,” he started, saying your name at the end of his sentence. “We’ll probably cross paths multiple times in the future.”

“Thanks,” you responded curtly. You muttered I hope not very quietly so no one could hear you. 

You immediately left San’s grip once the two men left. As you started to make your way upstairs, he called out to you, concerned. “Are you alright? You just got sick, you have got to be feeling lousy. Do you want some water, some advil? I can take your temperature and see if you’re running a fever—”

“No, no that’s okay. I don’t need anything, so I’ll just . . . go back to sleep, I guess. No need to bother me, I’ll just be resting and sleeping, and I have no idea when I’ll wake up! So, yeah. Bye,” you tried to make a run for it, but stopped yourself once San began speaking again.

“You should at least eat something,” he suggested. “I heard a plain piece of toast will help, it’s supposed to be light but help you digest better. I was going to make French toast and bacon, your favorite, but I can make it for dinner or breakfast tomorrow. I’ll make you some toast now.”

Before you could protest, he made his way to the kitchen and threw a piece of bread into the toaster. Gunner and Tank had reappeared, all happy that you and San were awake. They began to smell you, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you scratched their ears. You decided to only focus on them in hopes it would make all of this go away for a little bit.

“You’re both so sweet, tough but so so sweet. You’re too adorable, I already love you,” you spoke to them sweetly.

“I’m surprised at how nice they are,” San started. You wanted to roll your eyes in a very obvious way, but you chose not to. “They were going to be trained and used in dogfighting competitions, but the owner got arrested while they were puppies. My friend was able to hook me up and I took these two home. I have not regretted it at all.”

“Well, good, because it would be really sad if you did regret it. These poor dogs don’t deserve to be with you in the first place. If you hated them, I’d take care of them myself or find them a home with someone who would actually care for them,” you scoffed. 

San nodded his head. “Good thing I care about them, then.”

You rolled your eyes this time. As if he could actually care about anything. He was a narcissistic asshole who only cared about himself, how could he care about animals? You began to wonder if there was something happening behind the scenes, if San actually treated them terribly when you weren’t around. No, they would be afraid of him if he did, and they seemed to be somewhat calm whenever he was around. Perhaps they did like him (but you hoped they would grow to like you better).

A plate being put on top of the kitchen table  snapped you out of your thoughts. It was a plain piece of toast, looking as boring as ever. San sat down with his eyes glued to you. “Eat this, it should help settle your stomach.”

“I’m all set, thank you. Wouldn’t want to get sick again, especially all over you and the kitchen. Oh wait, actually . . . maybe I will eat then,” you joked slyly, your arms now crossed over your chest.

San chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t care, Princess. Your attempts to make me angry are so cute, but they aren’t going to work. Now, please eat before your toast gets cold.”

“You sure about that? I guarantee that if I vomited on your shirt, you’d throw a hissy fit and get all mad at me,” you protested.

“I really wouldn’t. I have plenty more shirts in my closet, and I can buy more at the store. Please eat your food.” 

“Hmm, I don’t think so. You most definitely poisoned it and are either going to kill me, or make me be weirdly obsessed with you, so I’m all set—”

“I’m not going to tell you again,” San cut you off sternly, saying your name as emphasis to how serious he was. His demeanor changed — now he seemed angry, more annoyed at the way you were acting. “Eat your toast before it gets cold, now.”

As much as you wanted to fight back, you were scared. You didn’t know what San was capable of, and based on his sudden mood change, you didn’t want to risk it. So, you slowly made your way to the table and sat down in front of the toast. Reluctantly, you took a bite. It wasn’t bad, just plain toast. You took a few more bites before claiming you were full.

You pushed the plate back towards San, who was now sitting in the chair directly across from you. “That . . . wasn’t terrible. Thanks. But if I start coughing up blood or violently throwing up within the next hour, I’m killing you with my bare hands.”

San chuckled. “Thank you, baby. I’m glad you enjoyed your breakfast,” he smiled. “I’m sorry for getting angry with you. I just don’t like it when you don’t listen to me. It’s adorable and cute sometimes, but I have to remind you of who’s in charge. You must listen to me when I tell you to do something, it’ll only make this easier.”

Make this easier? Remind you of who’s in charge? Who the hell says that to someone they claim to be their romantic partner? 

The confused look you had on your face remained; you couldn’t shake it off no matter how hard you tried. You hated this, you hated being treated this way. Especially by him. You had no choice but to play along, unless you wanted to be killed, so you stayed quiet. But that didn’t mean your facial expressions couldn’t change, however, and express what you were truly thinking at that moment. At least you had that.

Shrugging your shoulders, you stood up and pushed in your chair. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I’ll do what you say, within reason, and you’ll stay off my case. Sounds like a deal to me,” you proposed. “And, for the record, I didn’t actually throw up.”

San furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Then why did you say you did?”

“Because I didn’t want you to kiss me. Duh,” you answered in a matter-of-fact tone. 

You could tell San was a little irritated, but he brushed it off. He really didn’t care, he just wanted to give you affection, and it made him sad when you rejected it (from what you could tell, because he supposedly really liked you). He just shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, it’s whatever. I’m just glad you had something to eat before I head out for the day,” he said. “I’m going to take a shower now . . . wanna join me?”

You felt your eyes fall out of your head as you processed the words he just said to you. “Um, no. No, I think I’m good, actually. I’d rather be bitten by a rattlesnake than ever do that. So no, no, I’m good. Please don’t ask me that question again. Like, ever.”

“Really? It could make up for the fact you wouldn’t let me kiss you earlier. I could use your help washing my hair and rubbing my sore muscles. Plus we’d be saving water, which is always a good thing,” San tried with a giant smirk on his face. He knew this would piss you off, and he did enjoy seeing you get a little angry.

“I’m sure you can wash your hair just fine. Truly, the environment will be okay if we don't save water. There’s plenty of other people who can help with that,” you explained.

He pouted his lip slightly, clearly upset by your choice. San stood up and slowly made his way towards you, his signature smirk now back on his face. “I’m hurt, Princess. I really wanted to spend some quality, intimate time with you before I left today. I won’t be late, so maybe we can spend time together then, yeah?”

“Again, would rather be bitten by a rattlesnake. Bye now,” you shooed him off in hopes to finally end the conversation.

He only chuckled and made his way towards you. Only, instead of heading right up the stairs, he approached you. As swiftly as ever, San wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his body. He placed one kiss on your cheek, and then another one on the other. He smiled at you. “For not getting my kiss earlier.”

Your face was red, and you didn’t know if it was from anger or nervousness. Either way, the only thing you wanted to do was push San off you, which you did successfully. You immediately wiped your cheeks with your hands to get his saliva off your body. “I am going to kill you, Choi San. I don’t care how long it’s going to take, but I will kill you. Mark my words!”

San couldn’t help but laugh at your words. “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he joked, making his way up the stairs and into the bedroom.

You wanted to scream. And you almost did, except you were reminded of the two dogs and the cat that lived here and you didn’t want to scare them. Instead, you took a pillow and screamed into it. It didn’t make you feel better, but it helped relieve the tension and anger building up inside you. You groaned as you sat onto the couch. Gunner jumped up next to you and rested his head on your lap. You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute and gentle he was.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us all out of here soon, away from that evil man,” you spoke sweetly as you rubbed his ears. You sighed as you let your thoughts wander. You weren’t really sure how you planned on escaping, but you realized that it was going to happen sooner than you thought. 

After all that happened this morning, it made you realize one thing: you needed to get out, and you would do anything to escape and get away from the devil that was Choi San.

──────────────────────

If there was one thing you loved to do in your free time, it was to snoop around the house. When you were younger, your family was secretive of all the work they did and what went on. It was in your own best interest to be kept away from it, mainly because of how dark and complicated it was. Your parents didn’t want you anywhere near that, but nonetheless, you still tried to find out as much as you could.

You’d look at their bills and other mail sent to them (which was completely boring — you didn’t understand it at all). Whenever your parents or brother would be out for a meeting or other gang-related stuff, you’d sneak into their office to see what else they were hiding. Even then, it was boring as well. Some of it was drug costs and how much profit the Sons of Anarchy were making, issues with land and other gangs coming in unprovoked. You didn’t understand it, nor did you know why they would keep all of this from you.

Nothing mysterious ever came up when you searched through the office or the mail. And, for a long time, it bothered you. In the movies, they talked about the gangs present and everything they did, the anonymous threats they’d received and what they did to stop it. The fights, the drug deals, the trades, it was all so elusive. So elusive that it kept the movie interesting. You honestly thought it was a direct reflection of real life, but perhaps it wasn’t. Or it was and you weren’t just seeing the behind the scenes. Either way, you were a bit aggravated. You honestly thought your parents and brother were much cooler than that. 

Maybe it was because you were searching for something to keep you entertained. Every day was pretty much the same: wake up, go to class, do homework, relax, sleep, and repeat. The weekends were no different, except you could actually sleep in and you didn’t have anywhere to be. You didn’t have many friends, and the ones you did have were either busy with their lives or lived far away. You couldn’t go out on your own, except with your family, but that wasn’t the kind of fun you were looking for, despite having such a blast with them. 

You figured if your parents or brother were doing anything suspicious, they’d keep it hidden. Then you’d find it on your own and begin to solve the mystery, or see if you could help. If you wanted them to actually see how great you were, why not try with something from the family business? But still, nothing. You tried all the locked cabinets and drawers in their office, but there wasn’t anything. Perhaps there was nothing to hide, and that was just how the Sons of Anarchy ran things.

The hankering for mystery hasn’t left you yet, however. Now that you were taken by San and brought to his house, you could scope around and see if you could get any answers. Why you were here, who San really was, what he was planning. Surely there had to be something hidden within the walls of his home, even if it was small. A simple piece of information could go a long way.

When he had left to meet Seonghwa and Jongho (and others who did not know of, you didn’t know how many members were in their group, and a part of you didn’t want to know), you knew you had to act fast. You didn’t hesitate to put on the clothes you wore when San first took you. Luckily, since you were smart about where you kept things, you managed to keep your phone hidden in the closet under some shoes. You charged it in increments when you were alone, just enough to ensure you could call the police. 

His office was located downstairs, in the hallway past the gym. You felt intimidated at first, mainly because you had never been in a private office like that. You didn’t know what to expect, nor did you want to mess anything up and get caught. Slowly, you entered and began to look around. It seemed plain at first, with only a desk and a few papers here and there. But the drawers had more information, from what you could see with some papers sticking out.

Immediately, you opened it and began to rummage through. Most of it was just tax documents and bills San had to pay, he probably kept it for filing purposes. The drawer on the other side had more documents, but nothing out of the ordinary. That is, until you turned around and saw the other ones.

Information about Ateez, along with San and its members, were kept here. You didn’t hesitate to open up the files; you needed all the information you could so you could put a stop to this. From what you were gathering, San kept records of who everyone was and things happening in the other gangs. It didn’t take you long to figure out that a man named Hongjoong was their leader. The way he presented himself and all the notes San kept from meetings they had made it obvious. Seonghwa was his second-in-command, practically the same position as Hongjoong, only doing more behind-the-scenes work.

The others had mundane roles. Software, finance, business deals — each person had their designated thing they were good at. San, of course, was part of the business deals group (whatever that meant). That probably involved drugs, money, or weapons, which scared you. Who knows what could happen during those interactions? 

What scared you the most, however, was the fact that there was a file with your brother’s name on it. Your chest tightened in fear as you slowly reached for it, scared of what would be inside it. An old mugshot of his was the first thing, one from a few years back. The cops had arrested him because of his involvement in a bar fight. It was quite ridiculous, in your opinion, since he left right before the fight broke out. Despite that, why would San have your brother’s mugshot? Let alone an entire file on him?

More information was in it, all about who he was and he was doing. Motorcycle registration, meetings with the Sons of Anarchy and other gangs, the mechanic shop your family owns. There were photos of him in there as well, at various public places. You were in some of them, but they weren’t too mysterious. It was just you walking out of the store with him or going to a bar with him and his girlfriend. They were from public security cameras, but even then, how did San manage to get these? Did he threaten the employees? Did someone on his team hack into the system?

While you kept thinking about that, small pieces of paper were hanging out from the files you had opened. You also noticed another one sticking out from your brother’s file. Curiously, you opened the one about your brother. On it was writing, but only a little bit. As you began to read it, you realized it wasn’t actually about him. No, it was about you.

1/21/24

I think I found her. I think I found the love of my life, and she’s absolutely perfect. She’s everything to me already. With all that’s going on with her family, I will make sure everything goes according to plan.

That was all that was written, but you were still taken aback by his words. What the fuck did he mean by that? Was it just his plan to get you, or was there something more? Why did he mention your family? Nothing major happened with the Sons of Anarchy that you knew of, so what was San implying? Did he know more than you? How was all of this possible? It made no sense, and you were starting to get more and more nervous that San had something else in store for you. You had to get out of that house and away from him.

Right before you were going to bolt for the door, your curiosity got the better of you, and you opened the other file to see what the other pieces of paper were. Rather than being paper, they were actually photographs. Your heart stopped, worried that they would be photos of you. As you inspected them, you realized they weren’t (thank God). No, they were photos of San and some other members of Ateez. Not recent photos, however, they were from a while ago.

Everyone looked so . . . different. It was from a long time ago, of course, but they looked so happy. Especially San, who did not look the way he did now. No, he was much smaller, not as buff as he was now. Despite his smaller physique, there was an extra layer of warmth within him that radiated in that specific picture. He was posing with someone you didn’t recognize, and he had this gigantic smile. Something must have happened that day, because the other person was just as happy. 

Either way, San just looked so different. He seemed less cold, less tough than he was now. You wondered what made him change — was it the work Ateez did that forced him to be a different person? Was it just because he wanted to be stronger? You hoped it was the latter, because it would be sad to see if this lifestyle made him into someone he didn’t want to be.

You could hear a vehicle being pulled into the driveway. Shit. San was back home. Shit shit shit. All of his paperwork and files were everywhere, you had no time to organize it all. At that moment, you didn’t care. You didn’t want to get killed before you made a run for it, so you had to act fast. You quickly grabbed your brother’s file and the old photo of San as you ran out of the office. You pressed your back against a wall in the kitchen, right next to the living room and hallway that led to the front door and remained still.

“Let me get this straight: we found the guy, Hongjoong and Mingi tried to get something out of him, but he escaped. Why? Those two are great at keeping people from escaping, were they ambushed?” A familiar voice asked, which you recognized to be Jongho’s. 

There was a brief second of silence before someone else spoke up, who you did not recognize. “No, the cops came around. The guy apparently is wanted for other shit he’s done, so he made a run for it before they or the cops could catch him. Fucking bastard, can’t even own up to what he did!”

“The guy’s a pussy, what can you do?” Another unfamiliar voice added with a laugh. “It won’t be hard to catch him again, right? Yunho and I were able to find out where he lives, unless he magically packed up everything and decided to leave. If not, then why don’t we pay him a visit tomorrow and tell him he needs to finish what he started?”

“Already got that covered,” San answered nonchalantly, laughing as well. The mere sound of him made you want to roll your eyes, that’s how much he irked you. “We’ll break in late at night. Get him to come out of his room and force him on his knees. Then, as he’s begging for us to spare his life and offering us money, boom. I’ll put a bullet right between his eyes. Perfect ending, if you ask me.”

And now, the mere sound of Choi San made you want to vomit and run for the hills. The way he just spoke made your blood run cold. You knew San was dangerous, but part of you believed it was your anxiety making you overthink. To hear him say those words confirming your worst fears to be true made you more anxious than ever. If he could speak so confidently about killing an innocent human, you had no idea what else he could do; to you or your family. You had to get out of there, now.

Immediately, you took as many photos as you could of the files you found. If the cops were to come back to a burned down house, you at least wanted to have photo evidence of what was found in his office. The photos wouldn’t be much, but it would be enough to question why San had those files with him and what he planned to do. 

Their conversation continued while you took photos. You abruptly stopped, however, once you heard one of the unfamiliar voices begin to talk. You had a feeling they were close by, and you were right. Standing two feet in front of you was a man, with long but short dark hair. He was about the same height as San and Jongho, maybe a little shorter. There was a certain aura to him that you couldn’t describe, almost cat-like. It was intimidating, he intimidated you. But it didn’t matter because you would never see him again after today.

A subtle smirk arose on his face once he realized who you were. “Ah, so are we finally going to properly meet the girl you brought home, Sannie? We’ve met before, but I’m not always the nicest when I’m asked to do things in the middle of the night. Disrupts my sleeping time.”

You didn’t say anything. Frozen, you slowly backed away from the man, who couldn’t help but laugh at your antics. “Wait, she’s here?” San called out, confused. He even said your name softly to show how concerned he was. His eyes nearly lit up once he saw you, but faltered once he noticed your phone and the files in your hands. He looked more concerned now. A bit upset, even. He called your name once more. “. . . What is that in your hands?”

Jongho and another member had walked into the room, confused at the silence. Once they saw what you were holding, everything made sense. “You should keep your shit locked up tight, bro,” the other member told him, patting him on the back.

But San didn’t care for his comment. No, his eyes were on you. He looked gentle, but angry. “I asked you what was in your hands. Why do you have a phone and my files?”

You were trying to find the words to fight back, but nothing came out. “You’re a monster.”

The men loudly laughed at your words. Clearly, you weren’t as scary or intimidating as you thought you were. Damnit, I wanted to sound cool, you thought to yourself.

San took a deep breath in before addressing your comment, agitated. “Baby, I’m going to need you to give me your phone and those files. Now.”

“No,” you told him sternly.

They continued to snicker, entertained by your attitude and defiance against San, who was starting to get very frustrated. His cheeks were red and he had an awful glare, almost as if he was about to explode. The fear inside you grew and you worried that he was going to hurt you — or worse, kill you. He wasn’t above murder, so why wouldn’t he hesitate to kill you if you disobeyed him? You weren’t going to let him, however. Not without a fight.

“Put her in her place, San!” One of them exclaimed as the others continued to laugh.

You sent them a glare before focusing on San’s next moves. His angered demeanor was still there and wasn’t going away anytime soon. Trying to think of your next move, you couldn’t help but glance at the backdoor. It was a sliding one, and the thought of just pulling it open and making a break for it had crossed your mind many times. You wanted to wait until the right time to escape, hence why you didn’t try it before. But now was your chance; it was risky, but you had to do it. Anything to protect yourself.

You turned to San with a look of fear and anger on your face. “You want these files? Here, take them!”

With one swift motion, you threw the files against his chest and ran right for the door. Within seconds, you were flying through the backyard into the woods with no sense of direction. Nothing else mattered, you just needed to get out. Out and away from San, his friends, his world. If you kept running, surely you’d find a road or a run-down diner that would let you use their phone.

He wasn’t far behind you, you could hear him and his friends running towards you, along with their angered grunts. Man were they fast. You rounded a corner and hit behind a small bush. It wasn’t that big, but you hoped it’d be big enough so they wouldn’t see you and would go another way. 

Their footsteps and shouts got louder. You swore you could’ve seen San with Gunner and Tank in your peripheral vision, and your heart stopped. You didn’t think about what would happen if he caught you; surely he’d be very angry, but would he be physically violent? Would he actually kill you? The man deluded himself into thinking you were soulmates, would this behavior make him see red and hurt you? You didn’t want to find out anytime soon.

Luckily, a small rock was sitting right at your feet. You threw it in the opposite direction as yourself and watched as it landed near another set of trees. All four men stopped in their tracks and tried to locate the sound. They collectively agreed to move towards it, a wave of relief washing over you. 

Their voices and steps were quieter now. Slowly, you stood up and became aware of your surroundings. It was just the woods, trees and leaves everywhere. Not a person or animal in sight, with the setting sun shining nicely on you. It was still. The tension could be cut with a knife. You weren’t sure if it was peaceful or fearsome. 

But you had no time to waste, you had to keep pushing forward. You were about to start running until your phone started to ring, and of course your ringer was on. Normally it was off, but sometimes you had it on because you liked the way it sounded when you typed. And you just so happened to have left it on and forgot to turn it off. Goddamnit.

You quickly hung up so that the sound would stop. With no hesitation, you began to run. It didn’t matter if you were going east or west or even near the end of the fucking woods: you needed to get away. Your life basically depended on it.

As you continued to run, however, you were suddenly interrupted by something getting caught on your foot. You flung forward and began to roll on the ground. Sticks and rocks hit your body and face as you rolled, your cries loud and fearful. A rock or branch of some sort must have been hidden by the leaves and made you trip. Eventually, you stopped and found yourself under the sun, your body covered in dirt and leaves. 

The sharp pain you began to feel came from your ankle, a pain you couldn’t just shake off. You groaned in disbelief and began to inspect the wound, which honestly made you more panicked. Though there was little blood, it still hurt like a motherfucker. You could barely move it without wanting to cry. If you couldn’t move it, then you couldn’t run. If you couldn’t run, San would find you sooner or later and punish you for your actions, maybe even kill you.

In the midst of your panic, you looked up to see San staring at you and holding Gunner and Tank’s leashes. He looked angry, but it was quickly gone and replaced with a smirk. He couldn’t help but laugh at how pathetic you looked, from what you gathered. “It’s all right boys, I got her!” He shouted, his smirk still plastered on his face. “Gotta say, I give you credit for making it this far. You made it longer than I thought you would, especially with all the branches. But we can’t beat them all, can we?”

“Fuck off!” You snapped as you started to push yourself away from him. You winced in pain as you did, gathering small rocks in case you needed to throw some for self defense. 

The three men began to pile in, some even laughing at your attempts to move. Your face grew hot, but you ignored them and kept going. “You aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart. It’s cute that she keeps trying. Take out your phone and get this on video so we can laugh at it later,” one of them snickered. Within seconds, you flung the rocks at all of their heads, in which they yelped in surprise. “Jesus, what the hell was that for?!” 

“Get away from me!” You shouted and scrambled to find more rocks.

As you continued, San had handed off the dogs to the man with longer hair and crouched down at your feet. He took your swollen ankle into his hand and inspected it carefully, the pressure making it feel worse. You bit your lip to make the pain more bearable, though it didn’t help much. It wouldn’t be a surprise if San decided to break it all together and leave you to die in the woods. A simple accident, he would probably call it.

“There’s nothing you can do now, just stop fighting me. You’re making a fool of yourself, Princess,” San told you sternly but collectively. His words didn’t work on you, you kept pushing back. “Now, you can either ask me politely to carry you home, or I will drag you there by your feet. It’s your choice.”

It was silent for a moment as you comprehended his words. You couldn’t help but let out a scoff, “seriously? You’re going to drag me back to your house? You wouldn’t dare.”

San paused for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. “All right,” was all he said. He gave a nod to his friends, who started to make their way out of the forest. He didn’t hesitate to pick up both of your ankles and begin to move backwards, your back being pushed against the ground.

Once you realized he was actually going to drag you, you knew you had to stop it. You hated the way it made you feel, but you couldn’t be dragged home. “No! Wait, wait! Stop!” You cried. 

San let out an annoyed sigh and did not move any further. “Yes?” He asked with a cold stare.

“I . . . I don’t want to be dragged home. I want you to carry me,” you stuttered nervously, physically cringing at the words coming out of your mouth.

A subtle smirk rose on his face, so subtle that you could barely see it. He wasn’t satisfied with your answer, however, and wanted to hear more of what you had to say. “But why? You didn’t answer my question, you just gave me an attitude. You also didn’t say please just now, and I find that very rude.”

You bit your tongue and held back your screams. If you wanted him to comply, then you would have to be nice and polite (though you wanted to kill him). It took you a few moments before you could answer, too embarrassed at this entire situation. You let out an awkward cough. “Y-You startled me. I didn’t t-think you’d actually do it. Y-You say you care a lot about m-me, so I figured you were b-bluffing. You aren’t playing around, I k-know that now. Can you please carry me home, S-San? I’m tired and I don’t want to f-fight with you anymore. Please? I’ll behave when I get home, I p-promise.”

He seemed satisfied with your words, your face now burning a bright red color. A bigger smirk now rested on his face as he placed your feet on the ground. San put one of his arms under your knees and the other around your upper body, picking you up with ease. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to make yourself more comfortable, even though you didn’t want to. 

“Good girl, I knew you would listen and answer me politely,” he told you, kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you behave when we get back.”

The fear in your stomach grew. You knew this fight wouldn’t be over, he had more planned for you. You were going to have to act fast when you got back, you couldn’t let him hurt or make an attempt to kill you. 

It was hard to look up when San’s friends were there. They’d make a mocking face at you and all you wanted to do was bite their heads off. So you kept your face buried in the crook of San’s neck. You could tell he was enjoying this by the way he was breathing whenever you got close to him. Only a few more minutes of this, you told yourself.

When you got back to the house, the three men piled into the living room. You and San were already making your way towards the upstairs bathroom. You didn’t want to admit it, but he was very strong. Not only could San carry you for what felt like fifteen minutes through the woods, but he could also carry you up a semi-big flight of stairs? That man had serious strength. You wondered how he was able to do it.

But you couldn’t think about that right now. No, you had to think fast. How was San going to kill you, and what could you use to defend yourself? If you knew those two things, you had a pretty good shot at getting out of this alive. Possibly getting him arrested and in jail for good.

San placed you on the counter of the bathroom, leaning over to grab something from the cabinet. He looked you right in the eyes once he found what he was looking for, angry. “What the hell were you thinking? Running away like that, disobeying me? If I tell you to do something, you do it. You don’t run away from me, you know not to try and escape. I thought I could trust you, but after that little stunt today, I’m not entirely sure.”

As he reached for the items he pulled out, you immediately grabbed the bottle of soap that sat on the counter and held it in front of you. San was taken back by this action and furrowed his eyebrows. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Look, if you’re going to kill me, you have no chance. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know how this ends and I will make sure I get out of this alive. You may think you know how to kill me, but you’re wrong.”

San looked extremely confused, with his eyebrows furrowed and a confused look on his face. “W-What? Baby, what are you talking about? Why on Earth do you think I’m going to kill you?”

“I overheard your conversation,” you confessed. “You were practically gloating about how excited you were to kill someone. You were happy at the fact that you were going to murder an innocent person for no reason. Between that and the files you had on the Sons of Anarchy and my brother, it all added up in my head. You were going to eventually kill me and my brother. I had to make a run for it before you tried anything. I wanted to find a police station and get you arrested. I have photos of everything on my phone, that’s why I didn’t give it up.”

He paused for a moment, trying to process your words. San ran his hands through his hair and sighed. He seemed very confused and startled at your words. When he looked up at you, there was a sense of hurt and sadness mixed within his face. “It all makes sense now,” he whispered. “Princess, you need to know that I would never hurt you. What I was talking about with the guys has nothing to do with you or your brother. Did you… did you actually think I was going to kill you?”

“Well, yeah. You kidnapped me in the middle of the night and are forcing me to be your weird little girlfriend slash housewife. I don’t know you or what you’re capable of,” you answered truthfully.

San sighed again, this time more upset than before. You could tell that this hurt him, the entire situation. It was a little weird, since this entire thing was his fault, but San was insane. The man deluded himself into thinking you and him belonged together; he probably deluded himself into thinking that he messed up and the only way you’d forgive him was if he apologized. 

He finally collected himself and shook his head. “I knew you weren’t trying to run away from me. You were just scared, you wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t say those things,” he started. San reached for what you now realized was rubbing alcohol. “This might sting a little, but I got you. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

You grimaced in pain as he poured the alcohol onto your swollen ankle. Once he cleaned up the blood, he carefully wrapped your ankle in a bandage to ensure it would heal properly. It hurt like hell, but this would blow over in a few days. You’ve seen your dad and the other members of Sons of Anarchy deal with much worse, this was nothing. “There you go. You can’t do much, but I’ll be here to help. Let's get you to bed, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for your answer. Rather, he picked you up off the counter and carried you to the bedroom, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He sat you down on the bed and gathered extra pillows so you could elevate your foot. San pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for you to change into. He tried to help you do so by grabbing the ends of your shirt, but you immediately stopped him. “No, no. I can do this myself, please. I don’t want you to see my body, I’m not ready for that. Nor will I ever be,” you told him softly.

He took a step back and nodded his head. “All right, but you need to keep your foot elevated so it’ll heal better,” he reminded you. “We aren’t going to have dinner tonight, I’ll bring some snacks for us once I tell the guys to go home. Go get some rest, you’ve had a long day and you’re really tired. I’ll be up in a few minutes so we can eat and go right to bed. That sound good?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. But uh, take your time when saying goodnight. You know, there’s absolutely no rush. Really, I’ll probably be asleep and won’t be able to talk to you. Kinda a win for me, if you think about it,” you reassured him.

A small laugh left San’s body as he leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead. He placed his hand against your cheek, looking at you with adoration while he rubbed his thumb against it. “There she is, I missed her today. Oh, and I’m going to need you to give me your phone now. I saw you move it to your front pocket when we got into the bathroom.”

You gave him a sad look, almost as if you were about to cry (you weren’t, you just didn’t want to give him your phone). “But I have cute pictures of myself on there! How else am I supposed to get those back?”

San only laughed but didn’t say anything. You dramatically sighed and hesitantly handed the phone to him. “Thank you. I plan on getting you a new one, so you can take plenty of pretty pictures for me,” he reassured you. “Go to sleep, Princess. You need it after the stressful day you had.”

And within seconds, he was gone. You rolled your eyes and groaned into the pillow. You were so close. You could have gotten away if you didn’t trip over that stupid branch. You were aggravated, to say the least. 

But your suspicions of San were correct. You knew there was something off about him, you just couldn’t figure out what. Now you know that he enjoyed murdering people and has probably killed people in the past. That idea sent shivers down your spine, the fact that you were sleeping next to a killer every night. You had no idea why San would willingly do such a thing, to take life away from an innocent person. You knew Ateez were terrible people who did terrible things, but you didn’t realize this was the extent of how evil they were. 

The note you had found in San’s office was unsettling, too. What did he mean by everything goes according to plan? Was he talking about how he was going to kidnap you and take you from your family? Or was there something else he had in mind? He said he wasn't going to kill you, but could you really trust him? The possibilities were endless, but you knew something was wrong. And you weren't sure if you wanted to find out.

You could hear San saying goodbye to his friends, which meant that he would be coming to bed soon. With a sigh, you quickly stripped out of your clothes and changed into his, even though you’d much rather be wearing something else. His clothes were comfortable, but they were his clothes and you wanted nothing to do with him. 

You began to think about how you were going to get out of this. You weren’t going to give up, that was for sure, but you really needed to think about what you were going to do to escape. Today was unplanned, impulsive. It was unexpected, too, but now you know that you need to be strategic. You knew you could do it, it would just take more time and effort to do so.

Today taught you many things. One, start snooping immediately after San leaves. Two, do what San says within reason, even if you don’t want to. It’ll save you time and embarrassment; the more compliant you are, the sooner he’ll leave you alone. If you could do those things, you’d be safe from harm. You hoped, at least. 

You didn’t know what Choi San or his friends were capable of. If you could keep your guard up, you’d make it through just fine (hopefully).

[nelle-y]

Thoma x afab!reader

Synopsis: on your fourth month of pregnancy, you suddenly find yourself bleeding…

C/W: husband!Thoma, afab!reader, miscarriage, major angst, descriptions of blood under the cut, not proofread

Note: i swear if i get sent to the hospital again after posting a fic

—

“Honey, I’m home!”

“Hi, sweetie!” Thoma’s voice came from the kitchen. “Take a seat while I clean up real quick.”

You did as he said and sat down on your place, a feast of a dinner beholding your sight. Three of your favorite meals placed around a bowl of rice, your plates on the opposite sides. Thoma returned shortly and sat at the chair in front of you. You both began to eat the meals he prepared. “So, how are you feeling? Did you drink a lot of water today?”

“Yeah, I did. There were a lot of assholes at work today, though; I was this close to throwing a fit.” You pinch your fingers together with such pressure your nails could break.

He sucked a disapproving breath, “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He held your hand from across the table, offering a look of sympathy. “I wish I could work instead so you can rest here at home. That way, you wouldn’t be stressed at all.”

Reassuring your husband, you tightened your grip as your heart filled with glee. “Thoma, you work two-times harder than me everyday, and you do such a great job at it. Taking care of the house, preparing meals, doing the laundry, and managing our bills—I could never do that as well as you. Besides, whatever stress I have is gone by the end of the day because I get to come home to you.”

Thoma blushes as your sentiment, smiling softly, “I hope our baby has your way with words.”

“And I hope they have your resilience. Your wisdom, your generosity, your face, hair,” you proceed to list all of Thoma’s characteristics, leaving him a red mess.

“Y/N, Y/N, eat up before the baby starts getting greedy,” he said hastily.

You laugh at his bashfulness. “Okay, okay, let me just go to the bathroom first.”

As you walked to the bathroom, light pains from this afternoon irked to your loins—something you didn’t quite pay attention to. After using the toilet, standing up to flush, you see drops of red in the bowl. Your stomach dropped, the pain you felt earlier turned to cramps, your heart thundered in your ears as the threat of sobs stuffed your nose.

You and Thoma had always dreamed of having a family. From the day you both got married, you talked about the future, the house filled with laughter, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet. When you found out you were pregnant, Thoma was over the moon. He had picked you up and twirled you around the room, his eyes sparkling with joy and tears.

The months leading up to this moment were filled with anticipation and preparation. Thoma took over most of the household chores, insisting you take it easy. He would cook your favorite meals, rub your feet after a long day at work, and read to the baby every night before bed.

“Do you think they can hear me?” he’d ask, resting his head on your growing belly.

“I’m sure they can,” you’d reply, running your fingers through his hair. “They probably already love you as much as I do.”

As the months went by, Thoma made sure every detail was perfect for the baby’s arrival. He painted the nursery in soft pastel colors, assembled the crib, and even sewed little outfits. He was the epitome of a doting husband and expectant father.

But despite the joy, there were moments of fear. The slight pains that started a few weeks ago had you worried. “It’s probably nothing,” you’d tell yourself, but deep down, a gnawing anxiety grew. You’d mentioned it to Thoma, but he’d always reassure you.

“It’s normal to feel some discomfort,” he’d say, holding your hand. “But if it gets worse, promise me you’ll see a doctor.”

Now, seeing the blood, you felt the weight of all those worries crashing down on you. “Thoma,” you called weakly, then loudly like there was some eldritch horror in your bathroom. You run out, a wheep piercing your throat for a good cry. Groans echoed the walls as cramping turned into stabbing in your stomach. Your husband quickly rushed to you, panicked by your meekly body on the floor.

“Y/N!” Thoma held you in his arms, his eyes shot with worry. “What happened? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

His concern, archons, you could almost hate the man for saying those words. Unable to blink away the tears, you let a sob out from your quivering lip. “No, no, it’s,” he let you cling onto him as you muffled your cries. “They’re…” you can’t bring yourself to say it. Thankfully, he catches on quickly—because why else would you be sobbing on the floor about the baby if not for this?

Thoma, at a loss for words, continues to comfort you in any way he can. He hugs your head on his chest as you sob into him. He rubs your shoulders in hopes to calm you down. All while he was staring at nothing, lost in his own despair.

You both had been looking forward for this baby since you announced your pregnancy. It was all you could talk about before going to sleep. Casper would’ve been their name, and their first best friend would’ve been Taroumaru. Would’ve been.

“They’re gone—Casper…” you cried softly, pained voice muffled in his shirt.

Those words brought an unbelievable amount of pain to Thoma, like a cannonball hit him after he was shot with an arrow. He closed his blurring eyes and let a tear fall on his cheek. He wanted to say it was okay, but it really wasn’t. He and you were not okay, this is not okay. You had just lost your child, your bearing fruit that had been carefully nurtured the day your period didn’t come.

All of it, wasted because of a stressful day, he thought. He blames the work atmosphere, he blames your coworkers for not helping out, he blames the clients for being assholes.

But you were blaming yourself. You should’ve been more careful, more mindful of your limits. You shouldn’t have accepted to handle those clients. You should’ve been stronger for your baby. You blame yourself for destroying a child’s home because you weren’t strong enough.

Through hiccups and sobs, you say, “I’m so sorry, Thoma.”

Your husband snaps back to reality, focusing his attention to you, his beloved spouse who was crumbling before him. “It’s not your fault, Y/N, no need to apologize.”

“But I messed everything up; I got stressed and…” flashbacks of your blood haunt your mind. The aching pains in your stomach didn’t seem to help. Thoma gently lifted your face to meet his eyes, his own filled with tears but also with unwavering love and support.

"Y/N, don't you dare blame yourself for this," Thoma whispered, his voice breaking. "This is not your fault. You did everything you could for our baby. Sometimes... sometimes these things just happen, and when it does, there’s no stopping it. We’ll get through this together, okay?"

His words, though true, were hard to accept in the moment. But Thoma's embrace, his warmth, and his unwavering presence started to chip away at the heavy burden of guilt you carried.

The evening turned somber, the dinner forgotten as you and Thoma held each other, sharing in the profound loss of your unborn child. The future you had envisioned with Casper now seemed like a distant dream, replaced by a void of sadness and longing.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

—the end.—

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✰ sinking lily pads

— synopsis. he thrived in the sorcerer world, she was forced into it. how could two people that strayed so differently from each other become so close?

— pairing. gojo x oc!fem!reader (main), toji fushiguro x oc!fem!reader

— word count. 5.1k

— contents. mentions of child abuse, neglect, abandonment, angsty asf, injuries, blood/gore, depressing thoughts, dissociation, mentions of death, jjk violence/fighting

— notes. first post ♡

series masterlist

✰ chapter one. moon dair

March 10th, 1999

The young girl had been gripping her Father’s pants, the fabric balling up in her tiny fist as she observed the group of people standing in front of her. All of them glaring down at her, some faces scowling, some with sinister smiles. She shivered underneath all their gazes, the pounding of her heart the only thing she could hear. The conversation above blocked out by her own fear. 

“We are holding up our end of the deal, now it’s time for you to do the same.” 

The girl’s Father sighed in relief, muscles untensing as he realized that his family were finally free. Finally safe. Well, at least the family he cared about. His gaze shifted down to the shaking girl beside him, his eyes narrowing at her tight grip on him. He reached down, gripping the girl’s hand and peeling it from his pants. The girl whimpered, trying to reach for him again, but he had crouched down and held her shoulders. Keeping her a safe distance away from him. 

Despite her glossy eyes, the way her bottom lip quivered– he stared at her with no emotion. No words were spoken at first, only the sound of heavy breathing as the young girl searched desperately into her Father’s eyes for an answer to the end of this nightmare. 

“Do you love this family?” He asked her, his stare intimidating as to warn her that there was only a right answer. 

The girl switched from eye to eye, her heavy pants filling the moments of silence. It was a simple question, one that could be easily answered. Of course she did. Despite the years of abuse, the torturous nights of correctment. Her heart would have room for her family, something that she couldn’t control. Even in the moment that she realized what her Father was doing, she still had room in her heart for him. For her Mother, her siblings. Everyone. 

“Yes Father.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear. 

“Then you’ll make us proud. You’ll do this family right by doing your part.” He told her, leaving no room for her to interrupt. 

Your part. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat had the girl jumping, forgetting that there was an audience. Sneaking a glance to her left, she shrunk into herself at the stares from the group. Her Father didn’t say another word to her as he stood upright, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her to the groups feet. The young girl didn’t have time to react, didn’t have time to utter a sound as she was already being gripped by the strangers hands. 

The whole ordeal, she hadn’t shed a tear. Her lash line desperately collecting them, holding them back as she tried to keep it together. Her strength vanished though the second she saw her Father’s backside getting farther away, the way he didn’t look back once. Despite her sick assumption that he wouldn’t turn around, she kept her eyes unblinking– watching his form all the way until he was no longer in sight. 

It was then, the first tear was finally shed.

She felt paralyzed in a weird position. She wasn’t sure whether to do it for herself, prove to herself, that she was worthy— that she could make her family proud. She also didn’t know if making her family proud would even matter by the end, clearly evident that they had left her and were never going to come back for her.

Had things really come down to it? Where she had to be the one that carried the burden of this impossible task, this wild deal. Was she really the one that could bring her family peace?

But at what expense, her happiness? Was she a filler for everybody else’s lives?

What was her purpose? She wondered.

Was her only purpose, proving to only the ghost of her family now— that she could do it?

The room she was kept in was dull— blank of any personality. The rationing of food was little, but she learned quickly not to complain to take anything that she got. The air was always thick with tension like she had to tiptoe around these people— these strangers.

It wasn’t often when people would speak to her, days going by without anybody even recognizing her existence. I guess in a way she was glad for that, as she also learned quickly that too much attention ended in bad endings.

Despite her age, she knew full well that she was being used for something greater than she could understand.

She had known that she was different all her life, her family, mocking and reminding her every day that she wasn’t like the rest. Rather than reassurance, she was taunted for it— for being different. For being powerful.

For that, she was powerful— one of the most powerful that would ever walk the Earth. Though, she didn’t know it yet.

It was on a rainy Tuesday after she received her minuscule lunch— that she recognized a young boy around her age sitting on a bench outside. Immediately he had peaked her interest, as she recognized, he was letting the rain drench him without a care in the world.

Who was he? She wondered.

The lack of children that wandered this place, it added to the magnetic pull she felt towards him— she had to know him.

But despite her curiosity, she stayed put in her room, only watching him from her window.

The boy was pale, jet black hair covering his head. She could tell he was built, which was odd, considering he was only a child— just like she was.

She was curious as to what his face looked like, what his expression was. But all the times that she would see him outside, sitting on the same bench, whether it was raining or sunny— she never got a decent look. Perhaps that was the push that she needed— the push to seek him out one day.

She had lost track of what day it was, her chaotic mind and her thoughts, taking up all her headspace.

It was fairly a nice day when she wandered outside, and, despite her allowed to do that— she was tense and on edge. She waited to be punished for doing absolutely nothing wrong.

A bad habit perhaps.

She didn’t try to quiet her steps as she approached the boy on the bench, giving him sound queues to know that she was approaching. She wondered if he heard her approaching, giving that he didn’t care to turn to investigate.

The closer she got, the more evident it became that he was lost in his own thoughts.

“Go away.” The boy mumbled, surprising the girl with how gentle his voice sounded.

Her curiosity ignored his comment, deepening her interest with him.

The boy must have sensed her lack of understanding, as he turned to see her rooted in the same spot. It was his turn to furrow his brows in curiosity, studying her watchful gaze.

He known of someone new arriving, wondering deep down if she had come willingly— or rather than. But he hadn’t found himself to care enough to seek her out— meet her. He assumed she’d be like the rest that had come and gone, never to leave their trace again. All while he stayed trapped here. But despite his inner voice telling him to walk away, he spoke to her again.

Her silence was intriguing.

“You’re new here.” He stated, not needing her confirmation.

The girl nodded, ignoring his discomfort and taking a seat on the bench next to him— but sitting far apart, almost falling off the edge.

The boy noticed her effort to not touch him, and whether it was because she was hesitant of him— or rather trying to respect his space. His heart couldn’t help but beat a little faster, kind gestures foreign to him.

“What do they call you?” He asked.

She thought for a moment how odd of wording it was to ask for one’s name.

“Moon dair.” She whispered, her tone unsure.

The boy tried to smile, but found himself exhausted to do so. All he could manage was a nod of recognition.

“Cool name,” he commented, “I’m Toji.”

Toji. 

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, happy to finally put a name to the boy. 

The boy watched her face light up, and he wondered what the cause of that was. Did he dare ask? Did he care?

“You’re quiet.” He said instead. 

She made no reaction that his comment bothered her, suppose she was quiet. It wasn’t often she was asked to speak, or that she was spoken to. With her family, she was practically a ghost. Even now in this foreign environment, she didn’t feel the need to talk– nor did she feel like she should. 

“I’m not used to it.” She admitted quietly. 

Toji furrowed his brows, studying her expression as he noticed her small smile had vanished. 

“Not used to what? Talking?” He asked.

She nodded, shrugging her shoulders– fiddling with her fingers in her lap. 

“That’s weird.” He said, not caring about his bluntness. 

She frowned this time, crossing her arms. 

“It’s not my fault.” She defended herself. 

Toji chuckled, surprising her with the sudden sound. 

“Hey, that's the loudest I’ve heard you yet.” He joked, running a hand through his hair. 

She rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile, admitting to herself that it was kinda funny. 

It was quiet for a bit, the relaxing ambience of the outside calming the two. The wind caressed their faces, as their hair floated in the breeze.

It was a comfortable silence, they both thought. 

It was the silence that gave Moon time to get lost in her thoughts.

“What are you doing out here?” She asked quietly.

Toji turned to her with furrowed brows, and despite his confusion– his expression was gentle. She could almost get a read of him, the longer she looked into his eyes. He seemed… tired. 

“I didn’t know sitting here wasn’t allowed.” He uttered. 

“You are, I just see you out here a lot,” She stated, “Guess I’m just curious.” 

Toji chuckled again, and he wondered when the last time he laughed so much– let alone crack a smile. 

“Oh, you’ve been stalking me?” He joked again, chcukling again when he watched her cheeks flush red in embarrassment. 

“N-no–I just– my window looks out to this bench so… I’ve seen you here before. A lot actually.” She stumbled over her words, trying not to seem creepy. 

It was too late though, she realized how weird her words sounded. 

While it was entertaining to see Moon so flustered, he couldn’t keep torturing her. 

“It’s quiet and calming here,” He told her truthfully, “A little escape from… things.”

She listened and tilted her head at the end, the vague answer peeking her interest even more. 

“Escape from what things?” She wondered. 

Toji looked away from her this time, instead focusing on the trees swaying from the wind. Truthfully he didn’t care too much about the view, he was just afraid that she’d see the answer within his eyes. He noticed her observant gaze immediately, and despite him oddly trusting her already– he knew better than to disobey his family. 

“Family drama.” He told her instead, risking a glance at her. 

Despite his unsure tone, she seemed to believe him and took her turn to gaze at the trees. He noticed her face losing its light, the mention of his family hitting a nerve within her. 

Why? He wondered. 

“I’m sorry, I get it.” She said instead. 

Toji leaned forward and tried to get a good look of her face, and he was shocked to find such a vulnerable expression upon her features. 

While his family drama wasn’t a complete lie, he felt a little bad that she was trying to relate.

“What happened?” He asked, curiosity eating at him. 

She took a deep breath before facing him again, but her eyes couldn’t hold his gaze for too long. He noticed. 

“I’m here. That’s what happened.” She whispered, relaxing her awful situation once again. 

Toji didn’t quite understand what she meant by that, but also found himself staying quiet as he felt bad. He didn’t want to push her, and didn't want to upset her further. 

Why do I care? He thought. Odd. 

“Toji. Come now.” A stern voice called from the building doors. 

She watched as Toji stiffened up at the sound of his name falling from the man. She couldn’t help her own body tensing up, feeling like she’d been caught doing something– when it was the complete opposite. She was doing nothing wrong, so why did she feel ashamed for sitting here. 

Toji sent her a look that she couldn’t understand in the moment, and watched as he said nothing else and left. Walking with his head down into the building, avoiding the harsh glare from the man. 

All too soon, she was left alone with her thoughts. Gazing at the trees, it didn’t feel relaxing anymore– and she wondered why. 

It felt colder all of a sudden, the wind biting into her cheeks. The bench felt harder, more uncomfortable than before. It wasn’t relaxing at all– but why now?

All these thoughts quickly got overpowered, the only thought running through her mind being Toji. He was the first person to recognize her existence, to show even a sliver of kindness. It was nice to finally talk to someone, without worrying about their judgmental stare. 

She didn’t know why she missed him as much as she did, she had just met him. 

It was easy to grow attached to the nice things in life when surrounded by bad. She figured. 

Where did you go Toji?

8 years later…

The feeling of her lungs burning, begging for untouched air was the first thing that came to her. The rubble of the fractured wall weighed down on her, her legs trapped underneath destruction. She whined in frustration, her mind hazy– her body exhausted. 

9 lives was an incredibly powerful technique, letting her cheat death even in moments where she shouldn't of. But of course, with the good always comes the bad. The outside perspective only saw the person coming back to life, but to her– it was the most excruciating feeling she’d ever experience. Yes, she would be alive once again– but she was forced to feel her body heal. All the hurt she endured to lead to her first death, she could now feel reversing– she almost wished she could die at this point. Her enemy hadn’t realized she had the 9 lives technique, unaware that the cause of her death would happen to them as well– a mirror defense. 

Slowly she was able to crawl out from under the rubble, using her growing strength to lift the wall off of her body. Her lungs squeezed painfully, gulping in the dusted air– desperate for breaths. Her body wracked with violent coughs as she was on her hands and knees, hunched over and retching blood clumps out of her system. It was quite a nasty technique– but it was rare that anyone was around to witness her healing process. 

8 lives left. 

The realization wasn’t as rewarding as she thought– quite the opposite. She was closer to her permanent death that she knew would eventually come. Her eyes stayed unfocused on the ground in front of her, her nose burning and her throat tightening with the harsh reality of it all. Although she was immortal to an extent, the mental toll of dying didn’t lessen as she hoped it would. She was stuck in this odd transition, her mind not catching up with the truth that she was indeed still alive. She didn’t feel connected to herself, she felt as if a part of her soul had truly been destroyed– as if a piece of her was left behind. 

Her phone buzzed within the rubble, the distorted sound snapping her back to the present. She reached under a piece of the fractured wall, pulling her phone out to see who was calling. 

Gojo.

The name lit up her dull features, before the phone gave up– the screen shutting off. She didn’t have time to answer, letting the broken phone fall back into the rubble. Not letting herself give him another thought, she stood finally– doing her best to guide her way out of the destruction. She knew he’d be confused as to why she didn’t answer, but she didn’t care– not right now. 

To her, the relationship between Gojo and herself– it was confusing. Despite her obvious distaste for the man, he continued to stick around. She thought he was incredibly annoying, getting on her nerves quicker than anyone she’d ever met before. She couldn’t stand him, just the thought of past teasing and mocking he had done, it had her blood boiling. She learned quickly that her efforts to push him away– they were pointless. It was evident that he didn’t listen to a thing she said anyway. Her pleads for him to leave her alone were practically said to deaf ears. 

Taking a deep breath, she felt frustrated with herself. Although she had just promised to not think about him– that's all she was doing. Even when he wasn’t around, he still managed to bother her. She didn’t like being so hateful, but after everything she had been through– she refused to let herself get close to anyone ever again.

She also couldn’t deny her raging jealousy she had for the white haired sorcerer. She was jealous of his upbringing, the way he had everything he ever wanted growing up. How he was born from riches, living in luxury to this very day– never worrying about the struggles to survive.

She continued walking, in no rush to make it back home. She didn’t want her peers to see her so disconnected. She was alive and well now, body healed– no evidence that she had ever gotten killed.

So why did she still feel dead inside?

“Why the sad face?” Geto’s voice had startled her out of her, not realizing she arrived back at the school. “The mission was successful, was it not?”

He sat all relaxed on the stairs, where he usually was after a long day. She assumed it was to watch the sun set, she really didn’t know.

She nodded, making her way over to him and sitting down on the stairs near him— but careful to not sit too close. Geto narrowed his gaze, always wondering why she did that.

“Then why the long face?” He pushed.

She sighed, letting her elbows rest on her knees— holding her face in her hands.

“Just tired.” She mumbled through her palms.

Geto hummed, but wasn’t buying it.

“Seems like you’re always tired, hm?” He pointed out.

She raised her head from her hands, glancing over to him with a really look.

“Maybe I’m just a tired person.” She came up with.

Geto just stared at her, slightly offended that she would think he’d believe these lies— and trust him. He knew she was a terrible liar— the worst actually. Yet, she continued to try.

“You know, it’s okay to not be okay.” He started, his features softer. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time. You’re still a person underneath being a sorcerer. You’re allowed to feel.”

Geto’s words had struck within Moon. She knew he was right but she didn’t want to admit that to herself. Sure, she could show how she was truly feeling underneath the act— but then she’d be vulnerable. Weakness only ends up with people getting hurt. She couldn’t do that.

She wouldn’t.

“I appreciate whatever you’re trying to prove here, but like I said— I’m just tired.” She told him, standing up and leaving to her room.

Leaving Geto on the stairs, missing the concerned look he sent her as she walked away.

What’s happening in that head of yours Miss Dair? He thought hopelessly.

She knew it would’ve been too easy to make it back to her room without anymore interactions. She had thought she did however, until she heard the all too familiar voice calling out for her.

The sound making her ears ring, the exhaustion causing any noise at all to make her wince.

“Look who’s found their way back home.” The white haired sorcerer called out.

Home.

It was funny to her that he referred to this place as such. Was it? If so— why didn’t she feel the same way?

She hummed in response, digging her hand in her pants pocket, searching for her keys.

“Heard the mission was a success. I’m impressed really, thought you would’ve struggled a bit more.” He told her, trying to get under her skin.

Instead of feeling offended from his words, she wondered how the hell the word spread so fast that she completed the mission. She had just gotten home— the only person she told and not on purpose, being Geto.

“Geto told you that, huh?” Moon asked quietly, not really interested in an answer.

“Told me, maybe I asked— who knows. All I know is that you’re alive and well.” He shrugged his shoulders, walking closer to her until he was at her doorframe.

One thing about Gojo: he didn’t respect personal space. Boundaries? Didn’t know it.

Her fingers finally grasped her key ring, pulling it out and swiftly unlocking her door. Without giving him another glance she entered her room, moving to shut the door with her foot— but of course Gojo snuck in before she could shut him out.

“Gojo, I’m tired— don’t want company right now.” She mumbled, throwing her bag down and shimming off her jacket.

He tilted his head down, letting his eyes peek over his glasses that sat low on his nose.

“Hmm, why does it feel like you’re trying to get rid of me?” He wondered, already knowing the answer.

Throwing down her jacket, she made her way to the small kitchen area— pouring herself a glass of water. Not realizing until now that her throat was incredibly dry, aching dully.

After taking a moment and letting the cool liquid soothe her throat, she glanced back to the lanky man.

She was caught off guard when she was met with such a concerned look. She only got a quick glance of his furrowed brows, the way he was almost studying her— that was until he straightened back up, putting back on his teasing expression.

“What are you thinking about Nines?” He wondered out loud.

Nines.

A causal nickname that didn’t hold its true meaning anymore. It was then Moon wondered when she should tell him— or anyone for that matter, that she now only had eight lives left.

She chewed on her bottom lip, getting stuck in her head. Should’ve been an easy question to answer, but her mind wasn’t kind.

Gojo of course noticed, he noticed almost everything about her. The tics she’d fall to when stuck in her head, the way she could almost forget someone else was in the room with her. Her micro expressions that she thought nobody saw— he did. He always did. Even then, he found her the hardest person to read— thus why he was always asking the question.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asked again, quieter— more sincere.

She ignored his attempt at flirting almost instantly, knowing he would try again and again to get some kind of reaction. She saw nothing significant about the pet name— he did it with practically anyone.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She whispered, turning her glass upside down and placing in the sink.

His six eyes followed her movements, glancing back up to her eyes.

“I asked didn’t I?” He teased, but frowned when you still hadn’t cracked a smile.

Not that you ever did anyway— but every now and then he could.

One thing that Moon despised, was being vulnerable in front of others– especially Gojo. Although there was something about his aura that made her want to lay everything out, really tell him that she was suffering in the hell that was her head– confess everything that kept her up at night. The doubts, the horrors that plagued her when she closed her eyes. But if she was anything– she was stubborn. She wouldn’t allow the words to pass through her lips– not without difficulty that is. 

“I…” She started, staring at a random spot in the sink, “I don’t know.” 

Moon heard the familiar sound of glasses folding, the metal scraping the sides of his pockets. Glancing up, she was met with the incredible glow of his blue eyes. She had to take a deep breath, blinking rapidly to avoid getting hypnotized. It was often she’d get lost in his eyes, the way they could almost speak for themself. If Gojo didn’t have words to speak– his eyes certainly did that for him. 

“Ah, but you do know. You’re just really bad at this whole… talking thing. Wouldn’t you agree?” He called her out, blunt as ever. 

She couldn’t bring herself to care– or be offended by any means. He was right, as always. She thought quickly that maybe that’s another reason for her hatred for him– he seemed to know her better than she knew herself. 

She hummed in agreement, walking past him to get to her couch. She felt exhausted the longer she stood– needing to sit down to relax her muscles. 

Gojo eyes her figure, all the way to the couch– before moving to follow and taking a seat next to her. 

Moon thought suddenly, the eight lives that she had left. Surely, Gojo deserved to know. Not because of his worry for her well being– because yeah right. The right that he know strictly professional– she worked with him. It was important he knew. 

The white haired sorcerer sat, body facing her– waiting patiently and quietly for her to speak. For someone for easily labeled as annoying– he was pretty silent at the moment. Only because he was so lost in thought, trying to figure Moon out if she wasn't going to talk. That was why he often found himself mute, too focused to strike up conversation. 

“Eight.” She whispered, finally breaking the silence. 

His blue eyes examined her expression, trying to understand such a vague statement. His brows pulled together, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips. 

“Huh?” He wondered, “Nines, what are you tal–” 

“You need to stop calling me Nines.” She told him, her voice louder than the last time she spoke. 

For a moment she watched his face grow more lost, his expression confusion. But with the long look at her pain stricken face– he knew almost instantly what she meant. His body suddenly tensed, and his hands felt colder. It was odd that the first emotion he finally felt was anger, his hands tightening into fists. His eyes narrowed at her, his jaw clenched tightly– almost positive she could see the flexing from her spot. 

He adjusted himself, leaning forward with his elbows supported by his thighs, still facing her small form. 

“So what the fuck happened on the mission?” He growled out. 

She swallowed, and stared at her hands down on her lap. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes– and she knew she would. His eyes were so expressive, it might as well be written in them. 

“Things happen, you know that.” She defended, still staring at her lap, “I have The Nine Lives Technique for a reason.” 

Gojo kept quiet, his teeth grinding together in attempt to keep his true thoughts inside. He nodded his head, despite him not agreeing or being okay with this situation. 

“Answer this for me then,” He started, his voice still stern, “Were you ever gonna tell anyone?” 

She looked up finally, surprised when she saw nothing but concern painted in his eyes– despite his angry expression. She felt guilty knowing her answer, but her intentions weren’t to hurt anyone– she just didn’t think anyone would care. She didn’t think anyone should care. 

She shook her head, too tired to voice her response. 

He lowered his gaze to his lap now, seeming to get lost in thought for a moment before he glanced back up– the anger slowly vanishing from his features. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, taking Moon by surprise with the sudden switch up. 

She glanced from eye to eye, swallowing through the thickness in her throat. She waved a hand to herself lazily. 

“I’m here, aren’t I?” She whispered.

Gojo was silent after that, her tone so unsure it made him uneasy. Yes, he saw her sitting in front of him– seeming to be in perfect condition. But it wasn’t the physical aspect that he was worried about.  

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He pointed out.

Moon narrowed her eyes towards him, hating the way he was trying to pick apart her brain. The way he was trying to pretend he cared so much. She couldn’t be easily fooled like that— not anymore.

She’d give him this, he was very convincing.

“I’m fine.” She rushed out, her voice tired yet stern.

Gojo couldn’t help the roll of his eyes, not understanding just how bad someone could be at lying. Despite her efforts, she’d never be able to lie to him. Almost everytime she did— he never asked her why she thought she had to lie.

He could feel the familiar twitch in his cheekbone, the frustration moving its way to his face.

“Get some rest… Nines.” He mumbled, walking to the door without another glance in her direction.

Moon opened her mouth to say something, but found herself silent until he had disappeared through the door. The familiar click of the lock and then the eerie silence of her room. The only sound being her slow breathing.

The sorcerer confused her with the amount of effort he put in to see her, talk to her. She couldn’t understand how someone could be so drawn towards someone else that clearly had a distaste for them. Did he see the signs?

She knew she was being difficult at best— but it was only the way she grew up that had her acting as such. She’d never let anyone hurt her ever again. People couldn’t leave her life, if she never let them in.

The thought should’ve been comforting, but it never was.

— ending notes. feedback is appreciated 🤍

[cyberkitty1]

can u make a short part 3 of the miles x crybaby reader, an alternate one where reader didn't forgive miles?? I kinda want the angst 💀😭

i was thinking about ending it that way 🤭 . So this takes place when you are in his bedroom talking!

Warnings!: Ends with angst, I have a happy version on my page!!!

When the words rolled off his tongue instead of feeling sad or upset; you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“ Miles I dont know what you are always doing with your time instead of being with me, your girlfriend?! But Im done as well.”

You say taking of the necklace with his initials on it off. Mikes stares at you for a second registering what just happened. “ Wait no let me explain” you throw the necklace at him.

“ Miles no i’m done ! You never answered my calls or my texts or anything for that matter. Fine! you don’t want this over? consider it over.”

He realizes whats happening; you’re leaving him. No it cant end like this. He reaches for your hand saying your name “ espera por favor, me equivoqué, lo sé. te prometo que te lo compensaré” (wait please, I was wrong, I know. i promise i will make it up to you)

You push his hands away “ Stop it! You said you dont want this anymore so its over”. For the last time you turn around you stand for a second thinking of what to say next “ don’t text me don’t call me or show up at my house, you obviously wanted out if the relationship so I’m giving it to you”

And with that you walked out his door, his house, and his life.

————————————-

A/n: I know it doesn’t start where its supposed to 🤭

BUT YEA THIS IS WHAT I MADE i hope u like it!!

[bubblegump-1-nk]

Can’t Catch Me Now

Matthew Riddle x Fem!Reader

summary: Mattheo’s father sent him on a mission: make you fall in love with him, then lure you into a death trap. He should’ve known you wouldn’t let him forget you that easily…

Disclaimer: mentions of death, toxic relationships, cursing, slight mentions of torture

Song: Can’t Catch Me Now by Olivia Rodrigo

- First time writing for Mattheo! Wanted to do another fic abt my baby Theo but this idea came to me and couldn’t bring myself to write something so toxic about him 😭. Also there’s a lot of time skips in this so I hope it’s easy to follow!

“I love you.” You said sweetly.

“Me too, see you tonight.” Mattheo responded.

You kissed him on the cheek and entered the Transfiguration classroom as Mattheo left to go to Divinations. Tonight… if only you knew what was in store for you. Time past forward quickly, and now Mattheo was knocking on your dorm door, and you walked out, ready for your date.

“You look beautiful” He said

“Thank you. You don’t look to drab yourself.” You said, causing him to chuckle before taking your hand and leading you out of the castle.

You two had been walking for ages, getting farther and farther away from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Not a soul in sight.

“Ok seriously, where are we going Matty? We’ve been walking for years.” You say, dragging out the last word.

“Soon. We’ll be there soon.” He said, tensing up as he did.

You were now at a location, heavily secluded from everyone and everything. You joked that no one would hear you scream out here. Only you had meant it in a different way than what was actually held in store for you. That’s when they appeared, the Death Eaters. You looked at Mattheo in shock, but he was already tearing his hand away from yours and stepping back, taking his wand out.

“Mattheo?” You whispered, tears in your eyes. A look of horror on your face. No wand in hand.

You screamed when the Crucio hit your chest, soon followed by a spell that left you unconscious on the floor.

***

You had been sitting in the chair for hours. You hands and legs tied back. About 5 Death Eaters were in the room, Mattheo making up the 6. He never hit you with a spell, but he never blocked one either. Just stood there, watching, his face wiped clear of any emotions. As you were focused on him, you made eye contact with him for the first time since being in the room. The spells had stopped for about 20 seconds now. Was it finally over? Were you free to go? That’s when it hit you. The green light. You fell unconscious, never to be seen again.

“Mattheo wake up! We’re here.” Said Theo (😍), having been shaking Mattheo vigorously for about 3 minutes.

“What?” He asked, still shaken from the dream he just had. He’s been having it for weeks now. Ever since the incident. Your death has followed him even into his unconscious mind. He can’t escape you.

“We’ve arrived at Hogwarts you idiot.” Said Draco, exasperated at Mattheo’s constant zoning out.

All the boys knew about the mission, they all knew what happened in the late days of May. They were all at the meeting after your death, Voldemort congratulated all of them - which is something you don’t simply forget. Y/n’s father was a powerful wizard, who declined all of the Dark Lord’s advancements of recruitment. So, Voldemort decided he might just need a little push, that being the death of his beloved daughter Y/n. It didn’t work, of course, and instead your father and mother ended up fleeing to some desolate place.

“Git.” Mattheo said, before slapping Draco across the head and collecting his belongings to get off the train.

Draco lifted his arm as to hit Mattheo back but Blaise grabbed his arm and gave him a look that made Draco forget about hitting him. They all knew Mattheo never actually loved you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was still responsible for killing someone. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s turning out just like his father.

———

They soon entered Hogwarts and took their seats at the Slytherin table.

“What’s taking the first years so long?” Theo asked, wondering why the sorting ceremony hadn’t started yet.

“Beats me but I’m fucking starving.” Said Blaise.

Mattheo was about to speak but was cut off by Dumbledore, who now stood in front of the podium.

“Welcome all back to Hogwarts. Now, I’m aware that you must all be very hungry, but this is a statement I must make, and we’ve decided it’s better made without the first years present.” He paused for a moment, adjusted his glasses, and continued. “As I’m sure you all sadly know, one of your classmates has died this pass summer.” A complete hush fell over the Great Hall, everybody knew about what happened to you. What happened to your family. Except, no one knew who or what caused it. Your death and your parents ‘disappearance’ was all a mystery to everyone except for the 4 Slytherin boys sitting at the middle of the table in far right.

“Y/n L/n was a strong witch, who was kind to all who…..”

Mattheo began to zone out, not wanting to be reminded of you more than he already was. It all started about 2 weeks after your murder. The first time was when he awoke in the middle of the night, you had infiltrated his dreams again. He went outside for a smoke, when he heard it.

“Mmaatheeooo”

He turned his head swiftly to the left, where the sound came from.

“Mmaatheeooo”

It came again, but this time from behind him. Your voice. It was your voice.

This reoccurred about once a week. Sometimes in the dead of the night, sometimes while eating lunch or reading the Daily Prophet.

———-

Mattheo tried his best to forget about you, to have a good year, but it was hard with you stalking his every move. It had worsened now. He heard you calling his name almost every day, your face appeared in the flames of the fire in the common room for a split second last night. He’s already found three of the letters you wrote him in the past on his desk, letters he was sure he had burned. And the worst part was, he couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t say anything. He would just appear weak and crazy.

It was now early November, and the days were getting colder. Mattheo found himself walking alone outside, going to retrieve the jumper he left by Hagrid’s hut. As he was nearing the hut he heard a strange sound. Almost like heavy footsteps. He turned around, and looked around swiftly but not a soul was outside. He shook it off and continued walking, except this time the footsteps were louder, and closer. He turned around again but not a person was in sight. He began to walk faster, the footsteps did too. He stopped abruptly, looking around one last time, when he saw them. Footprints, leading all the way up to right by his side. His heart beat faster, and the wind began whistling as it passed through the trees. The world was silent.

“Mattheo” Came a voice right beside him.

Mattheo jumped back, a quiet shriek leaving his throat.

“Mattheo” It came again.

“Get the fuck away from me! Stay the fuck away from me!” He called out. It was silent for a few seconds, Mattheo thinking his warning had worked.

“Catch me.” The voice said. Your voice said.

Mattheo was confused, what did you mean ‘catch me?’ Was that even what you said? Your voice was a breathy whisper, so the words were hard to make out.

“What is wrong with you?” He called out again.

“Can’t. Catch me. Now.” You said, your voice circling around Mattheo.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Mattheo practically screamed this time.

All was quiet, before the footsteps slowly started walking away. It appeared as though you were walking backwards, by the looks of the prints.

Mattheo stood there, shocked, watching as you walked away from him.

Then the footsteps were gone, just as quickly as they had come and the landscape returned to a quiet and peaceful one. The sky was getting darker, and by the looks of it, Mattheo had missed dinner. He slowly began dragging his feet in the direction of the astronomy tower. Once he reached the top, he let out a sigh and pulled out his cigarettes and a lighter.

He’s beginning to think he might just be going crazy.

“Figured you’d be up here.” Says a voice from behind him.

“Yep.” He says, as Theo comes to stand next to him.

“Pass me one.” Theo says, holding his hand out for a cigarette. Mattheo hands him one and Theo lights it.

The smoke in silence, appreciating the view along with the cold air. The smoke from the cigarettes blending with the smoke from their breath.

“She’s everywhere you know.” Mattheo blurts out.

Theo’s silent for a moment, staring out at the sky.

“I know.” He says, finally.

“You do?” Mattheo asks, turning to face Theo. A confused expression painting his face.

“Yeah. I hear her laughter.” Theo explains.

“Her laughter? That’s it?” Mattheo asks, temper rising. How come he has to endure all this pain and Theo gets laughter?

“Yeah, she sort of just laughs lightly every now and again. It used to scare me shitless but now I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Yeah we’ll count yourself fucking lucky. She calls out my name. She fucking followed me today, her footprints were everywhere. Her voice was saying some shit about how I can’t catch her anymore. This shits so fucked up.” He says, growing angrier by each word.

Theo let’s out a laugh.

“You think this is fucking funny, do you?”

“Well, I mean, she’s right. You can’t catch her anymore.”

“Does it look like a give a fuck? Why doesn’t she whisper to you this shit, huh?” Mattheo asks, annoyed.

“Maybe because she never loved me. Maybe because she loved you.”

“Yeah, well, you were just as responsible in her death as I was.”

“Right… but it was you she trusted.” Theo says.

“Alright mate are you on her side or mine?”

“Yours obviously. She’s coming for me too.”

“You know, I miss her, now and then.” Mattheo says, reluctantly after a bout of silence

“Yeah well that’s no good is it? She’s still dead whether you miss her or not.”

“I fucking know that! Don’t you think I fucking know that?!” Mattheo yells, throwing his cigarette at Theo

“Calm down mate. It’s not doing you any good getting worked up about it.”

——-

It’s December now. All the leaves have left their trees and the the weather’s gotten harsh and bitter. Mattheo can’t escape you no matter what he does. You’re here, you’re there, you’re fucking everywhere. He hears your voice when the wind blows, hears your laughter in the rustle of the trees. The other boys all know of Mattheo’s pain. They’ve experience it too, but like Theo, they only experience it now and again. It seems they’re not your priority on your haunting list.

Mattheo’s laying in his bed, trying to find sleep. You haven’t let him sleep properly since about 3 weeks ago. As he turns to the side, he sees the curtains around his four poster shifting, getting moved to the side. He intakes a sharp breath. The curtains fully open now, and he’s met with a cold wind.

“Won’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” He whisper-shouts.

He’s met with no answer. The room is now completely silent, and before long 10 minutes have past. Was that really all you came to do? Move his curtain? Whatever it was, he’s thankful for your departure because now he’s really feeling the exhaustion kick in. His eyes begin to shut and his body relaxes as it melts into his mattress. Just as he feels like he’s about to get the sleep he’s so desperately been needing…

“See you tomorrow” You whisper, right into his ear, mocking the words he had said to you the night of your murder.

———-

Sorry if the ending sucks, this idea came to me late one night so I began to write but I didn’t really think it out before I started 😭 I didn’t want to have this in my to-do list for forever so I’m really sorry if this feels rushed! I hope you guys enjoy it anyway

[amber-sekio]

Together Forever

Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs

Ship: Chuuya x Dazai (Soukoku)

TW: Major Character Death, Angst, Major Angst, No happy ending, I love making characters go through hell, except Chuuya, which is why this isn’t in his pov, I felt evil today

Since the first time Dazai had witnessed the storm that was Arahabaki, Chuuya, he was enthralled. 

Chuuya was human. So painfully human. So beautifully human. 

After all, there was nothing more human than chaos and discord. The human need to find the most perfect, the most orderly form of chaos. 

Chuuya was chaotic and he was perfect. The perfect form of chaos. 

Human. 

Chuuya was human. 

Human. 

_______

For the first time since Dazai witnessed the storm that was Arahabaki, Chuuya, he wasn’t enthralled. 

Chuuya was human. So painfully human. So horrendously human. 

After all, there was nothing more human than life and death. The conclusion to a human life, the inevitable cessation. 

Chuuya was deadly and he was corrupt. 

Human. 

Chuuya was human. 

Blood. 

So much blood. 

There was a burning in his chest from having run here.  

He fell to his knees with no regard for the rubble beneath him. He pulled Chuuya into his arms. 

Red. So much red. 

Yet the body he was clinging to like a child to a stuffed animal was cold. 

He could feel the lingering warmth leaving the body and seeping into his own in a cruel twist of fate. 

He could feel as the warmth entered his own freezing body. 

There was an annoying chattering sound somewhere in the rubble. 

It was cold. It was cold and the body in his arms was becoming freezing to the touch but he couldn’t let go even as he shivered. 

Chuuya was covered in red, further staining his abdomen in sticky red. 

Cold. 

It was so cold. 

He curled himself over Chuuya as if to shield him from the cold, cruel world. 

He was tired and cold. 

He shivered, closing his eyes, pretending Chuuya wasn’t so freezing in his arms. 

… 

So cold…

________

It had been raining nearly all day. He couldn’t help but think it was painfully fitting. 

The gravestone was large and elegant. It was surrounded by droves of people clad in black. Only those closest were allowed to be up near the grave. 

When he finally made it up to the grave with the others, his melancholy grew. 

In the middle of the gravestone, in large, fancy font was the word Soukoku. Below that on the left was Chuuya Nakahara and on the right was Osamu Dazai. 

Apparently, when they were found together, it first looked as if only Dazai was clinging to Chuuya, but Chuuya had his hand clenched around Dazai’s coat as well. Out of respect, they weren’t separated. 

He was startled out of his thoughts when he felt someone grab his arm. He looked up only to realize most people had left after the rain had gotten worse. He looked to his side before relaxing at the sight of Kyouka. 

“Thank you.”

A/N: Requests are OPEN, read the rules, please

[j-eryewrites]

Endure and Survive

Chapter Five of " A Sinner's Redemption"

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Infected, descriptions of gore and violence, death, character deaths, suicide and mentions of suicidal ideation, the pieces finally click, LOTS of angst and little comfort, guns and other weapons (let me know if I mentioned anything)

Author's Note: I hope everyone had a pleasant holiday season! I was planning on this chapter to be around 10k but it ended up being 14k (I got a little carried away hehe) Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading it! Feel free to leave comments and reblog! I love hearing your thoughts. Thanks for your support!!

Sleep had come easy to Piper. It was a foreign feeling as peace swept over her mind and body. And for the first time since she was twelve, Piper dreamed. The dream wasn’t unique; She sat on a porch watching the sun go down, taking a rainbow of colors with it. Hues of pink and orange flooded her view, and for once in her life, she felt alive. Of course, it wouldn’t be a dream if she was alone, so sitting next to her was Ellie. Her younger sister was bright, and her skin glowed under the departing sun. It was her and Ellie. Ellie and Piper.

Piper leaned into her sister’s shoulder, and a smile formed on Ellie’s face. She was reading her joke book. Ellie always had it with her. Piper peered at the pages and snickered when she found a horrible joke. Then, another figure sat down next to her. Piper was puzzled as she turned to her right. Joel. It was Joel. Joel was in her dream. Whatever confusion Piper felt washed away at the sight of him. She felt oddly at home. Dazed, she looked at Joel, Ellie, and the sunset. It felt unnatural not to have adrenaline pumping through her veins or her mind and heart running a million miles per second. She wasn’t on guard. She wasn’t FEDRA’s child soldier. She was just Piper, and next to her was just Joel and Ellie. They were happy, but what disturbed Piper the most wasn’t that she was delighted; she felt like she had found a home. This was her dream. Joel, Ellie, and her are safe, happy, and together at home.

But dreams do not last forever; before she knew it, the steel walls around her mind built up again. Her thoughts turned back to themes of violence and survival. She woke up and joined the war once more.

“Piper,” Ellie whispered when she saw her sister wake up. If it hadn’t been for Ellie’s hands holding Piper’s shoulders, the young teen would have collided with her sister.

“Ellie? What’s…” Piper followed Ellie’s worried gaze to a man standing behind her.

Forcing Ellie’s hands off her, Piper sat up and faced the man. He raised his gun and warned her not to make any sudden movements, or he’d shoot. Piper’s eyes grew cold as her instincts kicked in. The man, whoever he was, was nervous. His hands shook as he directed the gun at Piper. In any other scenario, she’d attack him then and there. However, there was another in the room. A kid, whom Piper thought to be about six or seven years old, held a gun at Joel.

“Els, wake up, Joel,” Piper calmly said as her eyes never left the gun before her. Her chin slowly jutted up as a sign of her cautiousness.

“Joel, wake up,” Ellie said. He lay sleeping. “Joel.” No response. “Joel!” Ellie yelled and grabbed onto the man’s jacket, shaking him awake. It was then Joel finally began to stir.

“Joel,” Ellie’s lips parted in relief as she saw the old man rise. Joel blinked his eyes slowly, with the fog of sleep still on his mind. Once his dark orbs landed on the silver metallic shine of a gun, his muscles tensed.

“Eyes on me,” the man said to Joel. “Eyes on me. You don't have to worry about what to say. We don't wanna hurt you. We wanna help you.”

Joel raised a brow at the man, and Piper held back a scoff. He wet his lips as he awaited the young man’s following words.

“Okay. Okay, um… I don't know what the next step is with something like this, but if I lower my gun… we didn't hurt you… so you don't hurt us… right?” The man’s gun lowered slightly.

“That's right,” Joel said. The words left his mouth too soon to convey genuity.

“That's a weird fսck¡n' tone, man,” the man with the gun said. His hands began to clam up, and his knuckles turned three shades lighter. If they gripped the pistol even tighter, Ellie was sure that lights where the man’s knuckles were would illuminate the room.

A gasp left Ellie’s mouth when the gun inched closer to Piper’s temple. Her sister, however, didn’t flinch. “That's just the way he sounds. He has an asshоlе voice. Joel, tell him he's okay,” Ellie begged.

Joel glanced at Piper and Ellie and then back at the man. “Everything is great.”

“Dude,” Ellie hissed with desperation.

The man’s movements were becoming more frantic, and Piper knew they’d probably all be dead if she didn't pounce. “Fսck! Okay… listen… I'm gonna trust you,” the gun lowered to his side, and Piper’s shoulders relaxed. ”Yes. But if either of you guys try anything…” he raised the gun again, alerting Piper. “Yeah? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ellie nodded.

Briefly, Piper peered over at Joel. Her eyes communicated her distrust in the situation; however, Joel’s warm eyes gave her a sense of ease. They would see where this went, and if things went wrong, they’d fight.

“Can I sit up?” Joel asked. His eyes darted between the older guy and the kid.

“Yeah. Slow. Get up slow,” the man instructed Joel before looking at the kid beside him.

“Who are you?” was the next question Joel asked.

“My name's Henry,” he introduced before pointing to the younger kid beside him. “That's my brother, Sam. I'm the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now…” Henry’s eyes scanned the three of them. “My guess is you're running a close second.”

Joel’s brow tensed. It was a subtle change that only Piper and Ellie picked up on. To Henry and Sam, he was still the man glaring at them.

“So…” Henry muttered, “truce?” Henry held out his hand as if Joel was going to shake it. Joel did no such thing. Instead, Joel’s posture tensed as Henry’s dark hand waved in front of Joel. Henry’s lips drew into a tight line before directing his hand at Piper. He got no response from her. However, Ellie stood up and grabbed Henry’s hand, agreeing on a truce for her two stubborn guardians.

“Truce,” Ellie mumbled before plopping back down and reaching into her bag to cover up the shaking in her knees. In the next moment, her hands were full of food. She tossed some to Henry and Sam.

“Where'd you get these?” Henry asked. His mouth began to water at the sight of the stale sandwich.

“From Bill,” Ellie replied, digging into her sandwich. “He's dead.” Feeling Piper's irked stare, Ellie rolled her eyes as she shoved a sandwich into Piper’s hand. The older teen’s stomach rumbled, betraying her cold stature. Reluctantly, Piper began to eat, slowly cueing Joel to partake in the meal.

Once they were all eating, Sam turned to his brother. His little hands twirled and waved, fingers bending and straightening to create symbols. Henry’s eyes followed his brother’s movements as everyone’s confusion grew.

“He says thank you,” Henry translated. He nodded as he gazed down at the food. “I'm guessing you don't have much, so… this means a lot,” he smiled.

Ellie grew curious, looking at the younger boy. His hand movements only intrigued her. It appeared to be a secret language. Her mind began to whirl with thoughts on creating her secret language with Piper and how cool it would be to torment Joel. “How old is he?” Ellie asked.

Henry placed down his sandwich and created some hand movements to communicate with Sam. The young boy nodded and replied. “He's eight,” Henry noted.

“Cool,” Ellie beamed as her eyes squinted, trying to interpret the language. “I'm Ellie!” She watched as Henry relayed the information back to Sam, trying to copy the signs subtly. Still, they were over before she could move her fingers in the correct position. Sighing in defeat, Ellie peered over at her sister.

The muscles in Piper’s jaw clenched so tight that Ellie thought she could throw a piece of coal between her teeth and find a diamond in five minutes. Quickly nudging her sister, Ellie saw Piper’s jaw unclench as her older sister flashed her a look of annoyance.

“You gonna introduce yourself?” Ellie asked, placing all her body weight on Piper’s side, nearly knocking the teen over.

Piper’s arm ached from the sudden force, and it took everything in her not to wince at the recent pain from the bullet’s trace on her arm. Quickly, Piper angled her shoulder to shove Ellie's offer before sending her another look that said she wasn’t planning on saying anything soon. Ellie huffed, the sound mixing a laugh and a sigh of disappointment.

“That’s Piper. My sister,” Ellie said, pointing to Piper. Piper whipped her head to Ellie. The tension in her jaw returned, and her eyes burned with the offense of being betrayed by her sister. Her internal vow of silence broke.

“Ellie!” Piper hissed.

“What? That’s your name unless you want to go by Annie Reaction,” Ellie replied.

“Fucking hell,” Piper cursed. “Of course you–”

“Jesus, you two stop it,” Joel grumbled. The girls grew silent. Meanwhile, Henry felt a wave of awkwardness grow between the group. Being a witness to the scolding of others was always strange, and he was unsure if he should disappear or contribute to the conversation.

“I'm Joel.” Joel scrunched up the wrapper holding his food and shoved it back into his backpack. He linked his fingers together and placed his gaze on Henry and Sam. “Look, you ate, we didn't kill each other; let's call this a win-win and move on.”

Henry’s face paled. Piper wanted to scoff at the young man. He had no clue how to deal with situations like this. “Well, I'm betting…,” Henry said, gathering his thoughts. “…That y'all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun's up, I'll show you one.”

Joel leaned back. His dark eyes scanned Henry’s for any sense of a lie. He found none in the young man’s honest demeanor. He glanced over to Piper, who had come to the same conclusion. Henry was right. They needed to escape the death trap of a city, and he just offered them their salvation.

꧁_____꧂

“Welcome to Killa City,” Henry announced as his arms parted to the panoramic view of the city that the building provided.

The view was not much compared to the sights Piper had already seen. It was a city. Buildings were crumbling and rotting underneath the strain of time and neglect. Dust was everywhere, placing the city in a tinted haze. As the young teen’s eyes scanned the view, she saw what had drawn Joel’s attention: the center of black in the middle of the city. The center was even worse if the rest of Kansas City had seemed barren. It was torched, leaving everything a charcoal-like color—a midnight graveyard. The sight made Piper shudder.

Joel was grateful he didn’t have to crane his neck to look outside the window. His back, neck, and other muscles were stiff and sore. They refused to move properly. It was another sign Joel was getting old. He let Piper fall asleep on his shoulder as they were sitting guard, and now his body was paying the consequences. Not that Joel minded providing a stable shoulder for the young teen to rest her head on, even if she was adamant about staying awake with him. The thought of Piper’s stubbornness almost made Joel chuckle if it weren’t for the scorched center of the city.

“No FEDRA,” Joel muttered. The view of the city did little to ease the knot of nerves growing in the pit of his stomach. These were the people they were hiding from, who set the Kansas City QZ ablaze. Who knows what else these bastards did and are capable of?

Henry nodded as he spotted what Joel was eyeing. It was the old QZ, burned to the ground. “Not as of ten days ago, no,” Henry confirmed.

There was a shuffling behind the two men as Piper leaned back onto the table in what was supposed to be a conference room. “We always heard KC FEDRA was…,” Piper began. Her voice was soft and almost indecipherable from the noises caused by Ellie and Sam.

“Monsters? Savages?” Henry finished. His wide eyes glanced back at Piper as he answered her. His dark pools reflected the horror and fires that set ablaze ten days ago, and she forced herself to look away. “Yeah, you heard right. Raped and tortured and murdered people for 20 years. And you know what happens when you do that to people? The moment they get a chance, they do it right back to you.”

“But you're not FEDRA,” Joel noted as he looked Henry up and down. Joel knew what FEDRA looked like, and Henry, well, he was in no way the FEDRA image.

Henry’s eyes glanced down, and his shoulders slightly caved in as if making himself physically smaller would help lessen the blow of his following words. “No…,” Henry shook his head, “worse. I'm a collaborator.”

Piper and Joel’s eyes widened at Henry’s confession.

“I don't work with rats,” Joel spat. His brows were furrowed, and eyes narrowed in on Henry.

Upon hearing Joel’s words, Piper felt her stomach churn. Her feet stepped back from the conversation as her arms defensively crossed over her torso. Joel didn’t know she was one of them, that she was FEDRA and had been for years. Suppose he was this pissed off at Henry working with them; who knows what he would do to her. She gulped, and her eyes blinked rapidly as she turned away from Joel, an action that did not go unnoticed by the man.

“Yeah, you fսck¡ng do. Today you do… 'cause I live here and you don't,” Henry hissed. “That's how I followed you here. I know this city, and that's how I'm gonna help you get out.”

A vein bulged in the middle of Joel’s forehead, deepening his wrinkles. “Why help us?” Joel asked.

“I saw what you did… the way you killed those men,” Henry mumbled. His voice was quiet as if he didn’t want the kids to overhear him. “Now, I know where to go, but I don't know how to make it through alive, not if it's just me and Sam.” Henry glanced behind to look at his brother, who was smiling as Ellie scribbled on his scratch pad.

“You seem capable enough,” Joel noted. “You're armed.”

Henry’s body shook in disagreement. “You're wrong and wrong. Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at you was the closest I've ever come to being violent.” He let out a nervous chuckle at his admission. “So that's the deal. I show the way… you clear the way.”

Suddenly, a burst of light laughter filled the arm, drawing the attention of Joel, Henry, and Piper. It was Ellie and Sam. They were in a fit of giggles at something one of them had said. Henry’s anxious expression gave way to a soft smile. The creases on Joel’s face relaxed, and Piper’s arms unfolded themselves, resting at her sides.

“Haven't heard that in a long time,” Henry muttered. Piper nodded. It had been a while since Ellie had laughed like that. How long had it been since she laughed like that? Yeah, she played along with Ellie’s antics, resulting in a giggle here or there, but it was a real laugh where her chest tightened because she could no longer breathe. A real laugh where her eyes watered, and the sound no longer became aesthetically pleasing to the ear. If it was a laugh like that, then Piper hadn’t laughed in a long time. She thought back to last night. Joel had almost made her laugh like that. Piper’s chest clammed up on her heart and lungs, making it hard to breathe. She was getting weak. She was letting Joel in.

“So how are we gettin' out?” Joel questioned, his reluctance destroyed by the children’s laughter.

Knocking on the table, Henry got Sam’s attention, and with a few signs, a paper and crayon were placed in front of the three of them. “Highways…,” Henry took the crayon and began to sketch on the paper. “Downtown. Us. This whole area belongs to Kathleen.” He pointed out each area.

“She's in charge?” Joel asked.

Henry nodded. There was a fear in his eyes when he mentioned Kathleen. “Leader of the resistance. You can see the way highways bound us. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question. So how do we get across?”

As Henry explained, Joel glanced over to Piper. She was oddly quiet. Yes, Ellie was the more vocal and talkative of them, but even so, Piper would chime in and comment here or there. Now, it appeared as if Piper wasn’t even breathing.

Again, Henry pounded on the table. The vibrations reached Sam. Some more signs were exchanged, and then Sam began to write. Joel tilted his head like a dog trying to understand the English language. The scribbling stopped, and Sam held up his pad. “Tunnels,” it wrote. Ellie peered over Sam’s shoulder to look at the answer.

“Boom.” Henry made an explosion with his hands to emphasize his point.

Joel’s confusion only grew. “Kansas City has a subway?”

“No,” Henry elaborated, “but they have maintenance tunnels. There's a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including… a bank building here.” His finger pointed to a square on his drawing, representing a nearby building. “So we enter the tunnels here… travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential. There's an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, a pedestrian bridge over the river… free as a bird.” He smiled and peered up at Joel and Piper.

“You're right. It's a great plan,” Joel agreed, and Henry’s smile grew. “So, what do you need me for?” The smile was gone.

Sighing, Henry began to tap the tabletop with his fingers. “You noticed anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange sh¡t you've already seen?”

Piper broke her silence. “No Infected.”

“Oh, there's Infected,” Henry explained. Joel and Piper realized that they didn’t like where this answer was going. “Just not on the surface. FEDRA drove them underground 15 years ago and never let them come back up. It's the only good thing those fascist mοthеrfսckеrs ever did.”

“So you want us going into a tunnel full of Infected?” Piper was already shaking her head at the idea.

“Everyone thinks it's full of Infected, including Kathleen,” Henry said. “Which means that we're not going to be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is… it's empty.”

“You've been down there?” Joel interrogated. He was with Piper on this. They’d have better chances of taking the alive humans than a horde of Infected underground.

“…No,” Henry hesitantly said, “but the FEDRA guy I worked with told me that it's clean, completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“When?” Piper asked.

“Like… three years ago,” Henry replied.

Piper scoffed, and Joel began to step away from Henry. “Three years ago is a long time,” Joel noted.

“Okay, maybe,” Henry yelped, reaching out to the two of them to hold their attention. “There's one or two, but you handle it.”

“What if there's more?” Joel asked.

“Or one of those blind ones that sees like a bat?” Ellie interjected from the other end of the room where she and Sam sat.

Henry’s eyes widened with shock. “Wait, you… you ran into a Clicker?”

“Two of 'em,” Piper muttered. The mention of the clickers made the bite mark on her arm burn. She raised a hand to soothe the phantom pain.

Henry’s shoulders rolled back. “And you're still alive. You see? You're the right people. If it gets bad down there, we turn around and run back out the same way we came.”

“Oh, that's your great plan?” Joel sarcastically said.

“No,” Henry spat. “That's my dicey-as-fuck plan. But as far as I can tell… it's our only shot.”

A dull thud came from the table. Sam had his fist on the wood, waiting for their attention. He waved his hands around as Henry’s eyes carefully observed. “They're saying they're going to help us escape,” Henry said as he signed back to Sam. Ellie smiled at Henry’s words and playfully nudged Sam’s shoulder, asking him to continue their conversation via the scratchboard.

“You’re gonna help us, right?” Henry said, lowering his hands and praying that his words reached Joel.

“Joel?” Piper whispered, waiting for his answer. She knew Henry was all they had right now, and she couldn’t say no. Not when Ellie had a friend. Not when Ellie was smiling and laughing like she did before Riley died, before all this shit that has happened to them. This was how Ellie was supposed to be, not that Piper had her Ellie back; she was determined to keep it that way. Joel’s brown eyes looked down at Piper. Her eyes glowed with an eagerness that tugged at Joel’s heart. He knew he couldn’t say no, just like he couldn’t brush Piper off his shoulder the night before. As Joel agreed to the dicey-as-fuck plan, he couldn’t help but feel like a tiny sliver of the man he was before the Outbreak returned.

꧁_____꧂

They were running again. With the addition of two bodies, the group darted between garbage containers and squeezed between alleys, ducking low whenever necessary. The old bank building wasn’t far from where they had sought shelter before, but not far; it still seemed like a lifetime away as Kathleen’s men scoured the street, hunting them down.

It had felt like years had passed by the time they all had reached the bank. The interior of the building did little to conceal the five fugitives. Windows that were untainted by the dust allowed crystal clear visibility both ways, boxed in on the ground floor. Piper’s stomach hurled at the thought of being vulnerable from all sides. Her eyes twirled around frantically, looking for some possible escape for cover. Ellie clenched her hands, burying her nails into her palms. Piper’s worried expression only added to her own. Ellie trusted Piper’s gut instincts more than anything in the world, and if Piper was on guard, then something was not right.

“We need to get outta sight,” Joel harshly muttered to Henry. He sensed the girl’s unease. It was a mutual feeling.

“Uh… I,” Henry turned around, scanning the open floor. “I-I think it's this way.” His long legs quickly led the others to a set of stairs. Once the windows were exchanged for solid concrete walls, Piper felt slightly more at ease.

They descended the stairs. Their hurried footsteps clambered over each other, creating a loud noise. A large steel door with “Exit” written on it appeared. Henry was the one who pushed the door open, revealing a parking garage. A cool air hit the group, sending shivers down their bodies from the temperature change.

“Jesus, it’s cold,” Ellie shivered.

Piper glanced towards her sister before quickly shrugging off her jacket and handing it to Ellie. “Take it,” Piper insisted, and Ellie did. Piper wasn’t cold. She couldn’t be when her heart was running a million miles, pumping adrenaline into her veins.

“This should be it,” Henry announced as they approached another steel door. The labeling on this door was too faded to read. “You ready?” Henry asked Joel.

Joel’s unwavering eyes scanned the door in front of them. “Girl’s,” this caught Piper and Ellie’s attention. “Get your guns out,” Joel instructed them.

They didn’t need to be told twice to retrieve the weapons and flashlights. Henry eyed the guns but decided not to give them a second glance as he reached for the door handle and swung it open. Joel entered first. His flashlight and gun were in hand as he scanned the area. Next were Piper and Ellie with their respective guns and lights. There was nothing except water dripping as the droplets echoed throughout the tunnel.

“You see? It's empty! The plan is good,” Henry cheered.

Ellie, Piper, and Joel all winced at Henry’s volume. “Shh,” they all hissed at Henry, and his face faltered.

"The plan is good? We've been down here two seconds. We don't know anything,” Joel spat.

Henry bit the inside of his cheek. The tunnels were clear; anyone could see that. “Your dad's a pessimist,” he whispered to Piper and Ellie.

“He's not my dad,” they instantly replied.

“I'm not their dad,” Joel said simultaneously. They all glared at Henry for even suggesting such a thing. Henry’s eyes widened as he raised his hands, suggesting his regret in implying anything. “Just point your lights forward… and be ready to run,” he told the group.

Slowly, Joel turned around to face the long tunnel ahead of them. He waited for a few more moments. His mind was ready for sudden movements and the sounds of screeches and clicks. Nothing came, so he took a step forward and then another. The rest of the group followed behind him.

When Henry mentioned tunnels, Ellie thought there would be many twists, turns, and dead ends, like the mazes and labyrinths she had read about in some of her comics. However, these tunnels were straight and covered with many different pipes. “Tunnels” wasn’t even the right word; he should have said tunnel because there had only been one so far. There were no turns, dead ends, or monsters in the middle of the maze. Ellie was glad about the no monsters part. She could live without seeing another infected for the rest of her life. The no turns or dead ends were a buzzkill. Only so long could one walk straight before they started to think they were crazy. Luckily, she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Sam had been writing to her. They conversed via the scratchboard and imagined what it would be like if the tunnels were like those in the comics. The two talked about the rats that occasionally scurry between their feet or the few turns the tunnel now had. Ellie noted how much broader the tunnel was getting. The ceilings grew up a few feet, and she was sure they all could walk side by side with how far apart the walls were.

Soon, Joel’s pace began to slow, bringing the pace of everyone else behind him to a halt. There was another turn in the tunnel. This time, it led to a tiny hallway that, if Ellie reached out her arms, she could be touching both sides. It was darker than the rest of the tunnel and made her and Sam forget about the latest topic of debate on the scratchboard. The tunnel continued like before, but the claustrophobic enclosure gave way to a vast opening. The group stilled and stared. Something had caught their attention.

“Whoa,” Ellie gasped as she flashed her light around to look at the walls. They were covered in drawings of rainbows, flowers, children playing, and there was even a castle. The colors illuminated underneath the flashlights’ glow.

“Does anyone else think this is fucking creepy?” Piper whispered to the group. Something about the vibrant colors and the plastered smiling faces drawn onto the wall by children unnerved her. She grimaced as goosebumps formed on her arms, and she now regretted giving Ellie her jacket.

Sam was amazed at the bright colors and art. It reminded him of the pictures he made with Henry on the walls of their confined make-shift home a few days ago. In front of Sam was the door to the castle. He smiled and reached out a hand to open it.

“No,” Joel quietly said as he shook his head and pulled Sam away before taking his place and opening the door. Together, they all winced as a bright light blinded their view. There was light in this underground bunker.

One by one, the group scattered about the room. The walls had the same sort of drawings present in the tunnel before. Buckets of toys and books were lined up against the walls. On the far end of the room was a large drawing of a goal with the word “GOAL” written in all caps. On the other end was a kitchen filled with pots and pans.

“I heard about places like this,” Joel commented. “People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

Piper’s eyes caught sight of a giant whiteboard on one of the walls. Pieces of paper with children's drawings were taped alongside the “house rules.” Her dark eyes read down the list, her mood souring. It felt like she was invading a grave and was not welcome.

“What happened to them?” Ellie asked.

Piper peered closer at one of the pictures on the whiteboard labeled “our protectors.”

“Maybe they didn't follow the rules, and they all got infected,” Joel replied.

“Mm,” Ellie hummed before dropping her sack on the ground and picking up a toy car. She whirled it around the air and then dropped it on the table before Sam. They shared a mutual smile.

Suddenly, Sam reached the ground and picked up a worn copy of a comic. He began to flip through the pictures before Ellie burst with excitement.

“No way! I love these,” she exclaimed. Sam just nodded his head and smiled. Realizing her mistake, Ellie shook her hands in the air as if she was writing on paper. Sam understood and handed her his scratchboard. “I have issues… four, five, six, 11,” she wrote.

Sam replied with the issues he had.

“Ah. So cool,” Ellie replied. Leaning close to Sam, she slowly said, "To the edge of the universe…and back. Endure and survive." It was the signature catchphrase from the comics. Sam’s brow furrowed as he tried to read the young girl's lips. Gradually he started to sign along, understanding what she was trying to say.

“Endure,” Ellie muttered as she copied Sam’s sign for the word. “Survive. Endure. Survive.” Ellie was now doing the signs as Sam had taught her. “fսck yeah, man!” She raised her hand to give Sam a high-five. Once their hands collided, they giggled.

“Hey, keep it down. We're not out yet,” Joel reprimanded the young teen.

Ellie rolled her head back in disappointment. “Ah, c'mon. Can we just rest here for a while? There's, like, actually sh¡t to do here.”

“Wouldn't be so bad to wait the light out a bit,” Henry commented. Safer in shadows when we pop back out on the other side.”

Ellie’s eager eyes glanced over to Joel, who bit his lip. He looked over to Piper, who couldn’t care less if they stayed a while, before shrugging his shoulders and finding a comfortable place to sit down.

“Yes!” Ellie cheered before dragging Sam along to the painted soccer goal to play some ball. The two passed the ball between each other as a warm-up until they were ready to start playing. Ellie began to shoot into the goal. With one swift kick, the ball went into the goal.

“Let’s go! Come on! Yeah!” Ellie raised her hands triumphantly in the air. “Come on. Pass it back,” she motioned to Sam.

A few feet away sat Joel and Henry. They were situated around what Joel thought to be the meal table. He watched as Ellie and Sam passed the ball back and forth. It reminded him of…No, he wouldn’t let himself remember. Instead, he turned his sights toward Piper. It took him a moment to find her, but she was in one of the far corners of the room. Her back leaned against the wall as her eyes followed the ball as it was passed back and forth. Joel saw Piper grow smaller at the sounds of her sister’s laughter. Her lips drew into a tight line. She looked confused and uncomfortable as her eyes withdrew from Ellie and Sam. Piper looked at the shelves filled with books; her brows furrowed as her eyes glanced over the titles and authors of each book. Joel couldn’t help but think that Piper should be playing with Ellie and Sam. Yes, she was older than them, but Piper was still a kid. Kids loved to have fun, and soccer was fun. Especially the way Ellie and Sam seemed to be playing it. Yet Piper sat with her legs drawn into her chest, trying to, well, Joel wasn’t quite sure what she was trying to do. All he knew was that she wanted no part in the play.

A soft chuckle came from beside Joel. It was Henry. From the corner of his eye, he saw Henry smiling as his brother played.

“If you were collaboratin' to take care of him, I… I shouldn't have said what I said. I don't know your situation. And I'm not sayin' they should let it go, but…,'' Joel began his attempt at apologizing.

“Ah, that was awesome!” Ellie beamed as Sam made his own goal on the post.

Joel’s eye flitted back to Henry. “all things considered, seems kinda cruel…To send a whole army after you for that.”

“You know, I wasn't, uh… exactly telling you the truth before…,” Henry confessed, causing Joel to raise his brow. “About me not killing someone. There was a man, a great man. You know, he was never afraid… never selfish… and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kinda man you'd follow anywhere. I mean, I wanted to. Well… I would've. Yeah, but, uh, Sam, he, uh… he got sick. Leukemia.”

Joel’s eyes glanced towards the ground as he felt his heart hurt.

“Yeah, anyway, um… there was one drսg that worked, and, whoa… big shock… there wasn't much left of it, and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some… it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen's brother,” Henry said. He cautiously looked over to Joel. “Yeah, so, you still think they should take it easy on me? Or am I the bad guy?” Joel shrugged as he thought of an answer. “I don't know what you're waitin' on, man. The answer's easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing. But you get it, though. You might not be their father… but you were someone's.” Joel’s jaw clenched at Henry’s words. “See, I could tell,” Henry muttered.

A loud, playful roar erupted from Ellie’s mouth as she chased Sam around the room. The game of soccer was forgotten. The two of them darted past Joel and Henry, and as the wind from the children’s speed blew past them, Joel’s reflective daze was broken.

“We've waited long enough,” Joel muttered, snatching his flashlight and gun as he stood up.

꧁_____꧂

Ellie was trying her darndest not to laugh, but with how Piper’s sleeping face twitched as she dragged the felt tip marker across it, Ellie couldn’t help but giggle. Come on, it was peak comedy for the eight-year-old. Her masterpiece was almost done. All she needed to do was draw on the final touches. Then Piper’s nose scrunched. Her head jostled, ruining Ellie’s perfect line as Piper’s movement dragged the marker across her face. Ellie quickly pulled the marker back from Piper’s face as her sister raised a hand to wipe away the midday nap from her face.

“Els?” Piper groaned as she arose from her slumber.

Quickly stuffing the marker in her pocket, Ellie smiled innocently at her sister. “Good afternoon, shithead.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “Ellie, what did I say about swear words…”

“Only use them when necessary,” she sighed.

“Good.” Piper sat up and glanced back at Ellie. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Piper asked quizzically.

Ellie’s face faltered as she tried to cover up her smug smile. “Looking at you like what?”

“Like…like you’ve–what did you do?” Piper’s brow raised, and her eyes grew serious.

A red tint appeared on Ellie’s face as she scooted back and began to reach for the bunk bed railing to help her stand up. “Nothing. I swear on my fucking life.”

“Ellie,” Piper said, disappointed.

“What, you not believing me is a good reason to swear,” Ellie noted.

Piper rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she smiled.

“See, I told you that–”

“Ah ha!” Piper exclaimed as she snatched the marker hidden in Ellie’s pocket.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Ellie cried out as she tried to grab her marker from her sister’s hands.

Waving the marker in the air, Piper smirked. “What exactly were you doing with this marker?”

“Uh…drawing. Duh,” Ellie said. It wasn’t a lie so that Piper would believe her. Ellie hated how Piper could always tell when she was lying. She was trying to get better at it. Riley was even helping her here and there, giving her pointers. Which all worked on the FEDRA teachers, but still, not one had worked on Piper. She was just too good. Ellie couldn’t believe it. Piper was eleven and reading her like she was a book. It wasn’t fair.

“…Okay,” Piper sighed. “I believe you.”

Ellie smiled. Half-truths may be the way to go with Piper.

“What were you drawing?” Piper asked.

Ellie’s face fell. She was screwed. “Um…something. It’s a surprise.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?! I’m serious. I’ve been working really hard on it,” Ellie whined. She had been. Piper had been asleep for about an hour, giving Ellie ample time to plan her artistic masterpiece. About twenty minutes of the hour were dedicated to putting her idea to work. Twenty minutes was a long time. It was far more time than she had ever put into a work of art.

Piper raised her brow, and her eyes were full of skepticism. “You serious?” Ellie frantically nodded, and Piper sighed. “Alright, but you’ve got to show it to me when you’re done. ‘Kay?”

“Totally,” Ellie snickered.

There was something in the way Ellie stood in front of her with her hands fiddling with her shirt that tipped Piper the wrong way, but she chose to believe Ellie, giving her the benefit of the doubt. “Well, we’ve got to get to the dining hall,” Piper said, shrugging the sleep off and pulling on her shoes. They were worn to the sole, and the heel would have fallen off by now if it weren’t for the duct tape holding it together. She’d have to get new shoes soon. Maybe Levi would have some for her, Piper thought.

Feeling tiny static hairs at the back of her neck, Piper headed for the mirror to fix her bedhead. Ellie saw her sister’s trajectory and darted to the door of their room. It flung open with not much force, and Ellie entered the hallway. “Race you there, Pipes!”

Piper chuckled at Ellie’s antics. It only fired her will to beat Ellie to the dining hall. Hurriedly, she glanced in the mirror. She froze. Her hair was fine. It was hardly amiss. That was not what was wrong. Looking in the mirror, Piper saw Ellie’s masterpiece. All over her face were little squiggles and drawings. Some were hearts and stars, and even a mustache tinted bright pink. The cherry on top was the crooked lettering that spelled “Dummy.”

By the time the two girls showed up in the dining hall, they both were adorning the loving title of “dummy” on their foreheads.

꧁_____꧂

A chilly night air blew over the group as they emerged from the tunnels. Henry was right, there were no infected. Joel eyed the young man as he smugly led the group through the neighborhood.

“Do you know where we are?” Joel questioned. He eyed the abandoned homes. Their windows held the ghosts of a time before the outbreak. They stared as he walked along the once clean paved streets and litter-free sidewalks. His spine pricked as the eyes of the past washed over him.

“Yep. The other side.” Henry looked back at Joel and slightly snorted. “No. No one is here. No one's gonna be here because…,” Henry turned humbly and triumphantly shrugged his shoulders. “My plan worked.”

“So much goddamn talkin',” Joel groaned.

“I'm just saying I delivered. Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house, and we're out,” Henry said.

They were almost out. Ellie softly smiled and peered to her side where Sam strolled. They were almost out, and she’d have to say goodbye to her new friend. Biting her lip, she thought of an idea; maybe she didn’t have to say goodbye. “So we cross the river, and then what? Where ya gonna go?” Ellie asked.

“Don't know yet,” Henry replied.

“Well, we're goin' to Wyoming.” Joel glared at her. Piper just sighed and rubbed her arm. The pain had returned, and she worried it was infected.

“What?” She defended, “It's a huge state. It can fit two more people.”

“Yeah,” Henry solemnly nodded. He glanced at Joel in understanding. He didn’t want a few extra people, and Henry wouldn’t force the older man. He didn’t think he’d get far since their deal was just getting out of the city. “Maybe we just call this a success and say our fond farewells.”

Ellie frowned. “No, he'll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes.” She cleared her throat and patted her chest with a fist, preparing her vocal cords to speak lower, and in a deep voice, she said, “He's like, "No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening. And then I'm like, "I'm gonna ask you a million more times." And he's like–

A shot fires near them. A dust kicked up, and the group ducked down low. Piper gasped, grabbing the roots of her hair.

“Move, move! Go!” Joel ordered as more shots were fired. Quickly, the group huddled behind a rusted car.

“The fսck is that comin' from?” Henry hissed.

“Shut up,” Joel spat as he peeked over the car's hood. His eyes narrowed. The dark wasn’t making it easier to see where the shots fired. A spot of bright light flashed from the upper window of a home. A bullet shattered a window in the car.

“fսck. Let's move. Let's go,” Henry whispered before he grabbed Sam’s hand and began to run the way they had come.

“What are you doin'?!” Joel yelled.

“Gettin' the fսck outta here!” Henry replied. A shot fired in front of them. “Oh sh¡t, oh sh¡t!” Darting back to the safety of the car, Henry turned to Joel. “What do we do?”

Piper nodded her head, wanting to hear what the plan was. Her gun felt heavy in her hand. She could do that. She could find the guy and shoot him. She could hunt him down. She never missed.

“All right,” Joel breathed. He shuffled around and solved his pistol into its holder on his side. “Stay here.” He crouched down low and shifted his weight forward.

“What?” Piper and Ellie blurted.

“If you don't move, he's not gonna hit you,” Joel explained. The girls were shaking their heads. “I'm gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back, and then I'll take him out.”

“But if you go out there, he's gonna kill you,” Ellie pleaded.

“Joel, I can do it. I’m smaller and–”

“No. I’m going.” He saw the fear in the girl’s eyes. Piper’s dark eyes concealed it better, but Joel knew. “Look, it's dark, and he has sh¡t aim. Nobody's gonna kill me.” He tried his best to reassure them.

“Then he's gonna kill us,” Ellie whispered.

Joel’s chest tightened. “Do you trust me?”

The girls shared a nervous glance. Ellie reluctantly nodded. Piper bit her lip and scowled. Her nose and eyebrows scrunched together as if it pained her to say yes, but she did. In her softest voice, she said yes.

꧁_____꧂

Joel was breathing hard as the shot kept on coming. Each wisp of air as the bullets hailed down only made his heart beat faster. It was his luck that the street was littered with cars, each big enough to cover his body. However, if luck had been on Joel’s side, then someone wouldn’t have shot at them in the first place. He knew no infection in the tunnels was too good to be true. Something had to go wrong eventually, and it just happened to be right before they reached freedom from this hell hole of a city.

It was like a dance how Joel maneuvered between the cars and the occasional mailbox along the side of the street. Each time he ducked, he was one step closer to the house, to the window where the culprit was shooting from. It was the last house on the cul de sac, standing tall and brown in the dark of the night. At least, Joel was pretty sure that the house was a shade of brown, but he could be wrong. He was convinced that this whole neighborhood must have been something to see in the days before the outbreak, but now it was a war zone. Now, someone was using the home to shoot at him and the girls.

At a certain point, the shooter had stopped. Joel wasn’t sure why, but they had. Joel hoped that it was because of a lack of bullets, but his fears came true when he heard the gasps of the girls, Sam and Henry. The shooter was targeting them. He had to hurry. As he darted between the bushes and trees on the lawn of the brown house, he caught sight of the bridge. Water rushed underneath it, echoing a calming symphony of nature. They had to cross the bridge, and then they’d be free. Joel could get to Wyoming; the girls could go with the fireflies. Everything would be alright. Except now that Joel thought of it, his stomach churned.

He broke into the back of the house and climbed the stairs. Joel’s gun was raised close to his torso as he checked his corners before proceeding. He had to get this right. He had to save them, to protect them. Another shot was fired, and Joel’s heart lurched out from his throat. Joel held his breath while creeping towards the room at the end of the hall. Brushing the door to the side, he aimed his gun at the man sitting in the chair by the window.

“Put the gun down, slide it over to me, and then stay up here for another hour,” Joel calmly said; however, nothing about him was calm. “That's all you have to do.” The man turned around and peered up at Joel. His shaking old hands changed grip on the gun as he turned around to look at the intruder. “Please don't do it. Please,” Joel begged. But the man did not listen. Another shot rang out in the air. Joel’s hand ached as he lowered the gun from the slumped-over body.

Suddenly, a static noise pierced Joel’s ears. “Anthony? Anthony? Anthony, hold them where they are. We're almost there.”

Joel’s eyes widened. “Fսck.” He clambered to the window and stuck his head out, and with a guttural desperate cry, he yelled to the girls. “RUN!”

꧁_____꧂

Ellie’s fingers fiddled with Pipers. Her smaller digits weaved around her older sisters. Each movement brought a sense of control to the young girls. They didn’t dare think about the silence after that last shot. They didn’t dare get their hopes up.

Piper’s ears twitched as she peeked out from behind the car. Joel was in the window where the shooter once was. She couldn’t help but beam at the sight, but soon her smile faltered. His arms were waving frantically at them, and he was shouting something.

“What’s he saying?” Ellie wondered as she stood next to Piper. Henry and Sam soon stood up as well. Each of them was confused at the sight until the final piece of the puzzle was placed: the sound of the revving of cars. They froze as Joel’s words now clicked.

“RUN!” He screamed.

Panic coursed through their bodies as they stood there, the ground now rumbling and the horrific roaring sound pounding in their ears. Then they ran.

“Go! Go, go, go, go!” Henry shouted as the group darted from behind the car and towards the house, towards Joel. Soon, their shadows stood tall in front of them. The light behind them grew brighter. Ellie cried out in fear as she turned around with her gun in hand to shoot. She hadn’t expected the car to be so close. She couldn’t see anything, yet her legs kept running. She raised her gun and shot. It missed. She fired the weapon until it was empty. The car was closer. She was going to get run over. Another shot rang out, and the car swerved off the road into one of the wooden houses on the side. Whipping her head around, she saw Joel in the window with a rifle. He had made that shot. He had protected them.

“Ellie!” Piper gasped as she ran back for her sister in the chaos of the crash. Ellie hadn’t even realized her legs had given out. “You okay?”

Ellie’s head nodded in a jagged motion before her lungs could produce enough air for a singular word. “Yeah.” With confirmation, Piper dragged Ellie over to where Henry and Sam hid. The four of them ducked down behind a nearby car as the street was illuminated from headlights.

“He's up there,” A voice said. “Fսck.” The voice was close. Too close for Piper’s comfort. She clenched her eyes shut and squeezed her gun. Her hands were shaking. “Two and two! Around the back, take him out!” The voice instructed. Her eyes shot open as she glanced at the house to Joel. The marching footsteps of the people faded as they approached the house at the end of the street. Piper bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Joel could handle himself. He had to.

“Dead end, Henry. Gonna step on out? Save us some time?” It was a female voice. Ellie hated to admit it almost sounded comforting, like a mother. “No? That's all right. Doesn't matter.”

Henry glanced at Sam, Ellie, and Piper. He could do it. He had to save his brother and the others. Henry’s eyes met Pipers. She shook her head at him, and he only smiled.

“I'll come out! Just let the kids go!” Henry yelled from behind the car.

“No. Sorry,” Henry’s face paled. “The girls are with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam… Well, Sam's with you.”

Henry shook his head. “You don't understand, Kathleen!”

“But I do,” the woman named Kathleen smiled. Piper could hear the chilling grin in the woman’s voice. “I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?”

“He's just a fսck¡ng kid!” Henry pleaded.

“Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time,” Kathleen said. “You think the whole world revolves around him? That he's worth… everything?” Piper looked over at Ellie. “Well, this is what happens when you fսck with fate.”

“Get ready to take him and run,” Henry whispered to Ellie and Piper. Ellie shook her head. “Yes. Do it.” His eyes turned to Piper. She couldn’t bear to look at him. They were the same. They’d do anything for their little siblings, so Piper agreed. She grabbed Ellie’s hand and then Sam’s, who looked confused as his brother stood up and out of the cover of the car.

“It's time, Henry,” Kathleen said.

“Enough! Okay.” Henry had stepped out and raised his hands. With teary eyes, he looked up at Kathleen. The burning home behind her framed her as she raised her gun at Henry.

“It ends the way it ends,” She whispered. Her finger cocked back and then hovered over the trigger.

There was a crash, and dust fell over the mass. The burning house collapsed, and the ground had caved in. Wood, tires, and the car had fallen in with as the fire crackled around. A colossal explosion fired up into the air, and all fell silent. Everyone froze as a deep rumbling came from the earth below them. Piper thought it was an earthquake for a moment, but the noise told her better. It was growling. An unearthly snarl escaped the pits of the ground. After all, it’s where they were buried—the infected.

All at once, wave after wave, they climbed out of the hole. The monsters screeched as they ran to the nearest human. They were fueled by a desire to kill and to spread. A rainstorm of bullets fired as fear overcame Kathleen’s men. All thoughts of killing a group of five were forgotten. The only drive was to survive.

Screams of “No!” fell from people’s mouths as Infected leaped upon them, tearing out their throats and opening their jaws to feast on their flesh.

“Run 'em down! Run 'em down!” A voice commanded, and cars began to drive down the street, taking out groups of infected.

꧁_____꧂

From the safety of the brown home, Joel watched as hell came thundering down on the street below him. The fires spread from home to home, painting the scene as a sight from hell itself as people were carved open by the hands and teeth of the Infected. Raising the gun, he peered into the scope. His eyes moved around until he had found them. Henry had run back to the cover of the car, grabbing Sam’s hand tightly. Next to them were his girls, Piper and Ellie. He would keep them safe. They would get back to him. They would cross that bridge. Cocking the gun, he fired. The bullet lodged into the head of an Infected, who jumped on top of the car, reaching for the group.

Henry and Sam ran away from the vehicle. Piper and Ellie ran the other way. Joel followed his girl’s movements and took out each predator. No matter how they grabbed, leaped, and screeched, he would never let them touch the girls. The first few shots had startled the girls, but with a quick, grateful glance up at him, they knew who their protector was. His gun followed the girls as they ducked behind cars and raced away from the bloodied mouths of the infected. His gun kept firing, taking out the monsters, until one shot was met with silence. The barrel was empty.

Joel’s shaking hands dug around for another cartridge, for more bullets. His eyes tore away from the window to re-arm the gun. When he looked back, Piper had shoved Ellie towards a van as an Infected pounced on the girl. It knocked her to the ground and growled. Its head whipped around to the younger and prepared to jump when its body fell limp. Joel held his breath, and it only returned when Piper shoved the monstrous body off of her. She was alive. The girls exchanged some words before Piper pushed Ellie into the van. The younger girl makes it in. Joel kept firing, giving Piper more time to seek shelter when she stopped. There was a roar that shook the whole street. A towering blob of infected snarled as it stomped towards the van, towards Ellie and Piper. Joel fired at the thing, and the infected howled each time the bullets hit.

Suddenly, Piper was gone. Joel scoured the crowd to find her. The light of the fire blinded him. Muffled shots were fired, and he whirled around to find it. Piper was luring the thing away from Ellie. He watched as she opened her mouth to scream at it before shooting it once more. Its pace picked up as it charged. Joel cocked the gun once more, but it was empty. He cried out as he watched Piper scurry away. Her body was hidden from view behind two cars. It was too late. The infected raised its arms up high and roared as they came down. ꧁_____꧂

“Hurry and get in!” Piper hissed.

Ellie whined. As if she didn’t already know what was awaiting them outside the van.

“I’m trying!”

“Ellie!” Piper glanced behind herself and froze. “Ellie,” Her tone hardened.

“I’m in! Piper, come on, let’s go–”

“I can’t.”

Ellie’s brows pinched together. “What do you mean?” There it was, that sickening roar. It made Ellie shiver. As she peered through the muddied glass of the van, she gasped, although the sound was more like a scream.

“Piper!”

Her older sister glanced back at her. Piper’s dark brown eyes were glossed over as she flashed a shaking smile. “Ellie,” Piper whispered. “I need you to–”

“No!”

“Ellie! I need you to hide. Stay low and quiet. Joel will–”

“Fuck Joel,” Ellie hissed. “You’re my sister. Remember? Me and you till the end.”

Piper bit her lip and cast her eyes downward. Her hand was still holding Ellie’s, although at this point, it was more like Ellie clung to her sister.

“Yea, me and you. So you’ve gotta keep goin’. I’ll live on with you. Just get out of here.”

Ellie was crying now. “No, Piper, no!” But it was no use. Piper had yanked her hand away from Ellie. Her sister’s screams challenged the Infected as her shots drew it away. Away from Ellie. “PIPER!!” Ellie cried as her eyes trailed her sister’s movements.

Piper’s sights were on the monster. The firelight illuminated the tears on her dirtied face like stars in the night sky. Ellie banged at the van window, slowly moving her body to keep her sights on Piper. The monster roared at Piper, and Ellie shrieked as Piper’s back hit two cars. The trucks caged Piper in, leaving her no room for escape as the Infected hunted her.

The Infected was mere feet from Piper. She had nowhere to run. Ellie wailed and screamed as she banged against the van. Piper’s name kept falling from her bloodied lips. As the monster raised its arms, Ellie watched Piper turn her head to the side. Their eyes met in a weak attempt to say goodbye. After that, Ellie could only hear the never-ending screams and sobs that were squeezed out of her lungs.

It was these cries for her dead sister that drew in a hunter. The tiny Infected clicked and screeched as its ears attuned for fear were lured in. Ellie gasped as the monster’s body twisted like a spider. The van rattled with the newest edition. That little huff of air sealed her fate, and the Infected lunged. Ellie cried out in terror as the infected struggled to climb over the mountain of seats to reach her. In the front of the car, Ellie used her legs to kick open the passenger side door of the van. With one powerful kick, the door swung open. Ellie fell out of the van and slammed the door behind her. The Infected shrieked, and its claw-like nails scratched at the window.

From behind her, a familiar voice yelped. “Get it off!” Henry yelled as his legs frantically kicked a snarling Infected away. Sam was beside whimpering as a second Infected was reaching for him. Ellie wiped away her tears and scrambled over to the monsters. Her pocket knife was in her hand as she stabbed the infected, grabbing Henry. A shot rang out as Joel took care of the one attacking Sam. Her hands reached out to take hold of Sam’s and Henry’s before pulling them up when all she wanted to do was crumble to the ground and cry.

“Thanks,” Henry said. “Hey, where’s Piper–”

“Gone,” Ellie said. Henry’s eyes filled with pity, but Ellie didn’t want his pity. An Infected screamed and jumped towards them before Joel shot it down. “Come on, come on!” Ellie waved her hands for Henry and Sam to follow. “Go, go!” She yelled as they made their way to the house at the end of the street.

Joe stood outside on the lawn. His gun was aimed to shoot any approaching Infected. Upon seeing Joel, Ellie let go of Henry and Sam’s hand and ran to him. His somber eyes only made her cry as she clung to his coat. Henry and Sam stilled at the sight. Joel lowered his gun and patted Ellie’s head. His words wouldn’t do anything for her. He knew that. His eyes met Henry and Sam, who shared the same solemn look.

“Stop!” A sheer voice cried out. The group whirled around and found Kathleen. Her gun was raised and aimed towards Henry. Joel’s grip on Ellie tightened. Kathleen chuckled. “You think you’ll get awa–”

Blood spattered on their faces as a bullet lodged in Kathleen’s head. The woman’s body fell limp, collapsing to the ground in a pile of sprinkling blood. Behind the deceased stood a trembling figure. Blood, ash, and dirt covered their body from head to toe, almost making them unrecognizable. Their dark eyes glistened as the weapon lowered to their side.

“Pipes?” Ellie whispered.

꧁_____꧂

It was black. Piper’s mind was constantly replaying her last few moments. Her desperate goodbye to Ellie as she ran away, shooting at the monster. Each shot hit. She’d never miss, not when it counted. She only wished Ellie could get away, that Joel would protect her.

Piper was expecting death to hurt a lot more. She had seen how the monster after her had torn off a man’s head before doing the same to the rest of his body, but nothing came.

The terrors that were occurring on the street still reached her ears. The pleading screams of men and women as they were scratched open, the infected’s hand burrowing into them. Gunshots firing in a feeble attempt to save oneself. But what she heard the most was heavy breathing. It was her own. She was still breathing.

Unclenching her body, she opened her eyes. She covered her mouth to stifle the gasp that tried to flee. The infected stood before her. The two cars trapping her were demolished by the brutal force of the Infected. It stood before her; its fleshy chest heaved as it looked down. Piper was scrunched into a tight ball as she stared at the monster before her. It was watching her–the mushrooms, where eyes should be, followed her movement. She gulped. It stood still, waiting for something. A shaking breath left her lungs, and the Infected leaned down low. The potent smell of death and decay flew into Piper’s face as it snarled. She pushed herself as far as she could into the bent-up cars behind her. Her eyes widened to the size of boulders as it opened its mouth. Its teeth were rotten and covered in blood, and its throat opened up enough for her to see the tiny spiral of fungus climb out of its mouth. The thing was reaching for her. She cried out and crawled out from under the Infected. It made no motion to stop her.

Swiftly, Piper rolled underneath one of the cars and watched the Infected roar again before its thundering feet chased a new victim. As quickly as she sought shelter under the car, she rolled out. Pushing herself off the ground, she observed the horrors before her. Infected screeched and preyed after the people. Fires raged on, burning the neighborhood to the ground.

A burning sweat made Piper’s tangled hair stick to her neck and head. Her shirt was torn and bloody, and her knuckles, elbows, and knees were bloodied and tainted with bits of gravel. Choking on her breath, her feet began to move. Piper’s eyes scanned the terrors for any sight of Ellie, Joel, Henry, or Sam. An ear-splitting screech impaled her ears; Piper jumped back to find an Infected. It stared at her before turning the other way. More monster screams, and rasps were cut short as the Infected fled from the stumbling girl. She watched as these things parted the seas of torching fire, death, and rot.

She watched as hell fell down on the people who were bent on killing them. The Infected ripping them apart. She passed by men who cried out for her to save them as the monsters feasted on them. Their skin squelched as decaying teeth bit down. In her daze, Piper’s feet knocked away a pistol. The handle and barrel were drenched in blood and chunks of human flesh. Reaching down, she picked it up and wiped away the gore. The reddish handle glowed in the firelight as she caught a look at her tainted reflection in the handle. Blood trickled down her nose and mouth. Her skin was scraped, bleeding, and covered in dirt. Her eyes were cold and lifeless as her freckles disappeared under the dark of the night. Looking in the handle, she couldn’t figure out what she saw, but it wasn’t her–it wasn’t Piper.

“Go, go!” Ellie screamed. Piper’s eyes whipped around, searching for her sister. Ellie was alive. Ellie. Piper found them at the house. Henry, Sam, Joel, and Ellie. They were all there. They were safe. The weakness in her legs vanished as she ran. The sight of them was all she needed to keep going. Her family. Joel and Ellie. Her home.

꧁_____꧂

The adrenaline depleted from Joel’s system as he leaned back on the wall of the motel room. It was the least smelly of the ones on the first floor, and the carpet wasn’t as moldy as the others. The room would do for the night.

From the side room, Ellie's voice was heard as she read the comic book to Sam. "Pew. Pew. As the Raven 01 approaches the red planet.” Ellie’s finger traced the words, letting Sam know where she was. Their eyes scanned the pages of the comic book, inhaling the magical world within its pages.

Henry glanced down at his food and decided he should save the rest for later. Wrapping it up, he sighed. “You think they'll be okay?”

Joel’s ears perked up. “Yeah, I think…,” his eyes trailed off to peer into the room. “…it's easier when you're a kid anyway. You don't have anybody else relying on you. That's the hard part,” Joel said.

His words conjured up thoughts of Piper. She had it hard. She was still a kid and had to go through everything with Ellie clinging to her hand. The teen in question had been silent the entire journey to the motel, and before anyone could ask the burning question of her survival, she excused herself to go find some mattresses for them to sleep on. She mumbled something about not wanting to sleep on the sketchy green carpet.

“Well,” Henry chimed in, “I guess we're doing a good job then. Piper too.” Joel nodded. “What's that comic book say?”

"Endure and survive,” Joel repeated from memory.

"Endure and survive?” Henry cocked his brow. “That sh¡t's redundant,” he laughed.

“Yeah, it's-it's not great,” Joel agreed, and for a brief moment, a faint smile appeared on his face.

“No, it’s not, “ Henry said.

As an uncertain silence fell between the two men, Joel observed Sam and Ellie. They looked content. Two kids doing what kids do best. His heart swelled at the sight. This is how it should be, thought Joel. His dark eyes lit up with an idea. “Look, I don't know exactly how I'm gettin' to Wyoming. I'm probably walkin'. But… you know,” Joel muttered. “If you want to.”

Henry bit his lip to stop the smile from spreading. “Yeah. Yeah. Um… Yeah, I think it'd be nice for Sam to have a friend.” He nodded his head in a feverish manner to hide his excitement. “I'll tell him in the morning. New day, new start.”

Joel nodded along. It was a good idea that would be the best for the girls.

Standing up from his seat on a wooden chair that was much too stiff for his liking, Henry pointed to the room. “I’m gonna go check on them.”

“Hm?” Joel’s eyes followed Henry’s direction. “Yeah, I should–I should check on Piper. See where she’s at on the mattress situation.” Grunting, Joel pushed himself off the floor and left the room in search of Piper. Meanwhile, Henry turned back to his brother and Ellie.

"Bingo! Should we knock?” Ellie read before turning to the next page of the comic book.

“Hey,” he muttered as he knocked on the door. Ellie tapped Sam’s shoulder to let him know his brother was there. “You need sleep,” he said and signed at the same time.

Sam sighed before rolling over on the bed and tucking his legs in tight. The pink plaid blanket did little to ease the discomfort from the decades-old mattress. It smelt of things that Sam had never smelt before, but he knew he didn’t want to smell them again.

Seeing Sam tucked in for bed, Henry turned to Ellie. “You should–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie said. “I’m going.” She closed the comic book and placed it on the side table. Then, lying down on the bed, Ellie settled in for bed. Satisfied with the situation, Henry softly closed the door and left Ellie and Sam to sleep.

꧁_____꧂

The night air had gotten chillier the moment Joel had stepped outside. He wished he brought his jacket, but checking on Piper was a greater need. A slight tremor spread from his fingertips to the rest of his body, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed. Everything hurt, and Joel had to raise a hand to the wall to stop himself from crashing into it. Oxygen seemed to flee his lungs all because of her. Piper. The girl he thought died. He had seen it. She had been cornered with nowhere to run. The bloater was after her, and it was out for blood. He saw the cars crumple up as if they were soda cans under the force of the creature’s arms. Wincing as his breath came back to him, he heard a shuffling in a nearby room.

The room was only two rooms over from where they were, but it was still too far for Joel’s comfort. Stepping forward, his hand pushed the door open with a creak. Immediately, his eyes caught sight of the dim light of a flashlight.

“Kid?” Joel called out. He entered the room and glanced around. It was like the room they were staying in, except the ceiling had more water damage and mold. “Kid?” He repeated after hearing no response.

“ Room 4 has two mattresses in decent condition,” Piper muttered. Joel turned to find her unpacking her bag and laying out her sleeping bag. “You could drag ‘em over.”

Joel felt that same tense feeling enter his body from before as he saw her settle her things. “Kid.”

Fluffing up one of the pillows on the bed, Piper ignored Joel. Her face was still like that of a statue. Her eyes were cold and hard. Joel was sure if he reached out his hands to freeze.

“Kid, what are you doing?” Joel asked.

Piper scoffed. “What does it look like I’m doing? And I’m not a kid.” She still hadn’t looked at him.

His arm reached out, and his hand felt like it burned as he latched onto her shoulder, pulling her away to face him. “Look, I know what happened must have been–”

“Terrifying? Yeah, you could say that.” Piper bit the inside of her cheek. Her dark eyes still refused to look at Joel.

Joel held his tongue. He wasn’t sure what to say as his eyes took in Piper’s disheveled state. She looked awful, and it hurt him more than he’d like to say. “Hey, I’m trying here,” finally, she peered up at him. Her eyes glossed over. “Just…how did you–I saw that bloater–,” Joel whispered for fear she’d blow away if he spoke any louder.

“So that’s what they’re called.”

“I thought you died, kid,” Joel confessed. His eyes watered over, and his grip on her shoulder tightened.

Piper’s eyes briefly widened before she turned away, brushing Joel’s hand off her. “Wish I did,” she muttered.

“No,” Joel shook his head. “don’t say that. You don’t get to say that.”

Piper’s face tensed, and every line became visible. Her eyebrows clenched together so that they became one as the pain in her broken soul was revealed. “Then what do I get to say, Joel?! That I’m a monster! That the Infected treated me like their own! That they didn’t touch me! That they can’t! It’s because I’m like them. I’m a monster. I’m infected–”

Joel’s brows raised in confusion. “No, you’re immune. Just like Ellie.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Piper spat. “I’m nothing like Ellie. The infected still go after her. They will always go after her, trying to rip her apart, but me…? They just walk by as if I don’t exist. I’m one of them, Joel. It all makes sense. They were all after Ellie.” She tucked her arms close to her torso as she stepped away from Joel, putting too much distance between them.

“You got bit in the museum. You–”

“It was trying to bite Ellie, and my arm got in the way. Not that it mattered,” Piper explained. “I’m a monster.” Her eyes glanced down at the scarred bite mark from that day.

“No,” Joel said. He reached out to her. “You’re Piper.”

“And Piper’s a monster!” Piper sobbed. Her whole body shook as shaky breaths entered her lungs, fueling her pain.

“Kid, let's get back to the group. Ellie’s–” Joel tried to reason.

“No!” She yelled. “I’m not going anywhere near them, Joel! What if I….” Her voice grew soft and vulnerable. “What if I kill them? You said it yourself. I could still turn. Doesn’t matter if it’s days, months, or years. I could– I could go after Ellie. I could.”

Joel took a step closer to her, and Piper took one more back. Determined to keep distance. “You’re immune, kid. You’re immune, and even if you turned, you’d never hurt Ellie. I know it.”

“Bullshit,” Piper cursed as her back hit the wall of the room. Her knees crumbled underneath her, and her legs smashed against the floor.

“It’s not,” Joel comforted. “Come, kid. Let’s go.”

“I’m staying here,” Piper hissed.

“It’s not safe,” Joel pleaded.

“I’m not safe. I don’t feel safe in this skin.” She began to pick and pull at her skin. The wounds from earlier opened up, and fresh blood began to taint her skin once more. “I don’t feel safe around you or Ellie,” She choked on her sobs. “I–I should’ve died. I was supposed to die. I–”

Joel leaped forward and encased Piper in his arms. She tried to fight him. Her body twitched under his hold before the attempt to free herself stilled. “Shhh, I’ve got you,” he whispered into her hair.

Slowly, her trembling hands wrapped around his arm. “I’m so tired,” she breathed.

“Sleep,” Joel said as he lifted Piper off the floor. “I’ll watch over you and make sure nothing happens.” With an arm under her legs and another supporting her back, Joel carried her out of the room.

“If something does happen?” Piper whispered. “Will you shoot me?” Joel’s throat constricted. “Joel?”

Examining the girl in his arms, Joel’s eyes held a mix of fear and sadness. He’s been here before. His memory proved to be too powerful. Pulling Piper closer, Joel sighed, “Just go to sleep, kid.”

Piper was too tired to push the subject further. It would be something unspoken between the two. Joel prayed it would stay that way, for he knew his answer. If she had asked him that question in Boston, he’d have no issue with her request. But they weren’t Boston anymore. Joel wasn’t who he was in that city. He was someone else, someone familiar. It was as if he had discovered a pair of clothes from his past and decided to give them a try once more just to see if they fit. As he held the teen in his arms, it was no surprise that it did. Those clothes would always fit so long as Joel was willing to wear them. As for Piper’s request, he could never. He would never.

꧁_____꧂

Ellie couldn’t help but smile as Henry closed the door. He let them keep the light on. Everyone knows you’ve got to turn the light out when you leave a room where kids are supposed to be sleeping. Snatching the comic book from off the table, Ellie tapped Sam on the leg. He whirled around, eyes wide, until he saw her waving the book at him. He smiled and sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed to see better. Ellie cracked open the comic book and held the pages open so that Sam could see. Her thin finger traced the word bubbles as she softly read them. Her face was animated as if she was a part of the story herself.

"I don't see any weird movements. "Stiff? Negative. Damage here in Sector 153. Stella, can you hear me? I read you. Okay, from here…” Ellie read.

Raising his pointer finger up, Ellie paused and placed the comic book down. Sam reached to his side and pulled out the scratchboard. His small hand took the pencil and began to write.

“Are you ever scared?” he asked.

Ellie read his message and grabbed the board to write her reply. “Do I not look scared?”

Sam shook his head. "Never."

Ellie’s eyes fell, and she picked up the scratchboard. “I'm scared all the time…,” she wrote.

Sam scoffed. Ellie softly smirked and continued to write.

“… of scorpions!” She flashed the scratchboard, and Sam and Sam raised a brow, unamused.

She erased her message before writing her truest fear. “I’m scared of ending up alone,” she wrote. Her eyes began to water as she thought of today’s events. Sniffling, she wiped away a tear. She’d almost lost Piper, and she’d already lost so many others: Her mother, Riley, and Tess. Who else was going to be added to that list? Maybe Sam? Joel? Henry? Piper? “What about you?” Ellie wrote.

Sam took the board in his hands and slowly wrote his response. “If you turn into a monster, is it still you inside?” He asked.

Ellie’s brows furrowed in confusion, but her confusion faded as Sam raised the hem of his pant leg. The light highlighted the bloody bite wound. Tiny veins reached out from the injury, but Ellie knew better. Those weren’t veins. It was the fungus. She saw Sam’s expression falter, and without thinking, she pulled back her sleeve. She stuck her arm up to the light, and Sam gasped. She had a mark just like him.

“My blood… is medicine,” Ellie wrote on the board before showing it to Sam. He tilted his head. Quickly, Ellie fetched her knife out from her bag and cut her hand open. Sam raised his hands up in protest, but Ellie ignored them. Carefully placing her bleeding hand on his wound, she mixed her blood with his. Sam winced as her finger dug into the bite. But as quickly as it happened, it was over. Sam’s pants returned to cover his wound as Ellie bandaged her hand up.

“Stay awake with me,” Sam wrote.

“I promise,” Ellie replied.

Raising up his hands, Sam signed the word “Promise.”

Ellie followed suit. Her fingers mirrored Sam’s as she said, “Promise.”

With the promise to each other, Sam and Ellie hugged. Their bodies rocked back and forth to bring a sense of comfort. Ellie held onto Sam tightly. She wouldn’t lose him. Her blood was the cure. It had saved Piper after she got bit, so it had to work on Sam. It had to.

It wasn’t long before the light of day broke through the window of the motel room. Ellie jolted awake as the sun’s beams fell on her face. She groaned and rubbed the sleep from her eye. Looking on the bed next to hers, she found Sam. He was sitting up, looking out the window. The morning sun had painted a picturesque scene outside. The sky was a grayish blue, and the grass was a deep green. Ellie was glad to see green again instead of steel-gray buildings and dust.

“Hey,” she called out to Sam. Once the words left her mouth, she smiled, realizing her mistake. Shuffling, she got out of the bed and walked towards the young boy. He was humming a song she hadn’t heard before. She wondered how he even knew what he was humming but figured she could just ask him. Reaching out her hand, she tapped on his shoulder.

Sam whipped around. His eyes were dead as they scanned Ellie. Immediately, he raised a hand to scratch her. His mouth opened and snarled. Ellie screamed as he pounced on her and knocked her to the ground. The force broke down the door, landing them in the other room.

Ellie struggled to keep her hands up to keep Sam’s gnashing teeth away from her. Her whimpers and cries reached the ears of Joel, Henry, and Piper as they were shaken awake. Immediately, Joel and Henry reached for the gun lying between them. It was closer to Joel, but Henry was faster. Jumping to his feet, Henry aimed the gun at Joel and then at Piper as they tried to approach Ellie and Sam.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Henry discouraged.

“Joel! Piper! Joel!” Ellie pleaded. Sam’s deadly eyes bore into hers. Her friend was gone. She had failed him.

There was a deafening bang, and Sam dropped to the floor. A pool of blood spilled from the young boy’s head, turning the sickly green carpet a scarlet red. Henry gasped, and Ellie screamed. Piper’s body could no longer hold her up, and she fell to the floor. A permanent expression of shock was carved onto her face. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t–

“Ellie,” Joel whispered. “Are you okay?” He held his hands by his head as Henry’s gun trailed his motions.

Ellie peeled her gaze away from Sam’s dead body to look at Joel and Piper. Silent sobs fell from her lips as a flood of raging tears trickled down her cheeks.

Henry stepped back, pulling Joel’s attention. The young man’s body was eerily calm as his eyes conjured up a storm. The seas of Henry’s dark eyes crashed and shook.

“Easy, easy, easy,” Joel muttered. He took a step towards Henry, who had brought the gun to him. “Henry, gimme the gun.”

“What did I do?” Henry sobbed.

“Shh,” Joel soothed.

“What did I do? What-what-what did I do?” He looked back at his younger brother. Where there was once a bright smile now sat a gaping hole where the bullet had entered. Sam was dead, and Henry had pulled the trigger. “Sam?”

“Henry, gimme the gun. Gimme the gun. Gimme the gun, Henry.” Joel was begging now. “Gimme the gun.”

Henry did no such thing. Slowly, his steady hand brought the cool metal of the gun’s barrel to his head. His desperate eyes met Piper’s. It was only a brief glance, but it was enough for Piper to understand. In the storm of Henry’s eyes, Piper saw the girl in the abandoned mall. She saw the young girl tear into her own flesh, begging the dead monster to have bitten her instead. She saw the gun that had a bullet promised for her brain if Ellie was taken by the fungus. She looked at Henry and understood. Closing her eyes, she knew. Moments later, she felt the warm droplets of blood on her face and the bang of a gun. Her arm was burning now. The very arm where her teeth had dug into her flesh months before. It was scalding as Henry’s body fell to the floor. The very floor where his brother met his demise seconds before.

“Oh God,” Joel gasped. A prayer or a cry of shock, none of them knew.

A few hours. That’s all it took to dig the graves of Henry and Sam. They laid to rest in fields behind the motel. Piper had found some sticks to make gravestones with. Sticking them on the ground, she silently turned back to the motel to retrieve her things. She had said her goodbye, so there was no use sticking around, no need for tears, and no need for mourning. Ellie had followed suit, grabbing her and Joel’s things. The girls returned to find Joel patting down the soil. Heaven forbid if any animals got into the grave and made a dinner of the bodies of the people they could have called friends.

Dropping Joel’s jacket and bag at his side, Ellie placed down her bag. In her hand, she held Sam’s scratchboard. She crouched down at his grave and picked up the pencil, writing one last message before placing it down. Picking up her backpack, she threw it over her shoulder and turned to Joel.

“Which way's west?” Ellie asked Joel. The wind had started to pick up, and the pleasant weather from before had started to turn sour. It was going to rain soon.

Joel’s eyes squinted, and he looked around before nodding in the direction. His lungs were still trying to recover after digging the graves.

After getting her answer, Ellie started to walk, leaving Sam and Henry behind. Piper followed. The girls walked side by side, together but feeling forever alone. Joel wasn’t following them.

“Let's go,” Ellie hollered back to Joel. He removed his gaze from Sam’s grave to look up at the girls. They stood waiting for him to move on. They didn’t have time to waste. After all, a storm was coming.

Joel shrugged on his jacket and backpack before taking one last glance at the graves. The message Ellie had written would forever be burned into his brain.

“I’m sorry.” ꧁______꧂

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[anexistingexistence]

Audio RP | Your Vampire Mate Broke Your Trust to Save Your Life. You Don't Forgive Him [M4A]

CW: [aftermath of non-consensual vampire turning] [self-destructive behavior] [voluntarily starving] [graphic description of violence] [mentions of throwing up] [mentions of blood drinking] [suicidal thoughts/suicide attempt and enabling behavior of those ideas by other people]

Soo this one is... heavy. Obviously. But I thought someone might like it, so I'm posting it. I first drafted this a few months back when I hit a very low point mental health-wise, so if you'd be so kind as to not yell at me for the contents of this one shot, it'd be highly appreciated.

-> "Because They All Mean Well" <-

Also, because a prominent topic in this piece is Darlin' having overcome depression and being suicidal (at least) once before and now are spiraling back into all those problems, here is the Wikipedia list of suicide crisis lines. Please take care of yourself.

(The barcode reads "Make It Stop" btw)

[its-in-the-woods]

The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 14

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Par 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 , Part 11, Part 12, Part 13,

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character

Synopsis: Around the back, Jade is just standing covered in dust and grit but ready to move. One hand holds a blood-covered machete, the other a pistol. “Alright old man, how do we get out of here?”

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on Fallout expect typical horror, blood, gore, death, weapons, cannibalism, body horror, major character death

Notes: This one is rough and brutal, and ends on a cliffhanger, I am sorry.

“Jade,” Cooper whispers, gripping her shoulder and shaking her. She groans trying to crawl deeper under the thin quilt. “Got to wake up, Tiny. Something is going on.” He rips the quilt off hoping that it makes his point more clear. 

Jade sits up, rubbing at her eyes, her brows are scrunched tight. If it had been any other time, he’d have thought it was cute. His ears had woken him up, the rattling of metal and the sound of heavy footsteps had his hackle up. If he had any hair left it would be standing on end, there was a large group of people here. It was clear they were not here for the accommodations. 

“Get dressed, there is someone outside.” The Ghoul hisses, Jade is already up and getting her pants up. He follows quickly behind her, regretting not getting dressed after their evening. Cooper had always usually stayed in his clothes no matter what. Their bounty situation had been far from his mind after last night's adventure. It had been foolish to hope they would have some more time together.

He is mostly dressed, tightening his holster in place as a scream erupts a few trailers away. Jade freezes, her body tensing up as she staggers her footing into a defensive posture. She slips her machete into her holster, looking over at Cooper as he swings his duster on, his hand grabbing at his shotgun. Saddlebag over one shoulder as he flips his hat onto his head. He had already formulated a plan and hopefully, a way to eliminate anyone that was currently hunting them. 

Moving forward Cooper goes towards the bathroom, Jade follows closely behind, her backpack over her shoulders, both being careful not to stay in front of any window too long. Inside the bathroom, Cooper grabs the small grate covering an equally as small window, the half a dozen screws holding it give way with a thunk. Sometimes having increased strength was an advantage. He turns towards Jade who is standing in the doorway gun leveled at the entrance. She was always at the ready, something he’d admired. Jade may have been through the worst that this waste had to offer, but it had honed her into the killing machine she was now. 

“Tiny,” He hisses, she turns around glaring at the pet name. He gestures at the window, she comes over looking out at the back fence. There was a three-foot gap between the window and the chain link fence, enough room for Jade to slip below out of sight.

“You’re not going to fit.” Jade gestures at the space, Cooper rolling his eyes, dragging her closer to the window via the straps of her backpack.

“Yeah, you’re going to go first. I am going through the front door, cover me.” He states before turning to walk back towards the front door. Jade grabs his hand, turning him around to give him a quick kiss. Before she scoots herself up and out of the window. 

Cooper grins checking that he is loaded, more gunshots ring out, they will be coming to this trailer next. He moves forward peering through the metal-covered window, there were at least three men all black-clad. He could hear at least four others walking along the roofs of the trailers. The sun was peering up from behind the trailer he was in, it gave him a small advantage. Stepping back he raised one spurred heel at the door and kicked the door open. It rang loudly as it hit the metal sides of the trailer. 

Silence.

“I sure hope you boys are ready,” The Ghoul draws, the sun being in the opposition's eyes meaning the Ghoul didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger as a man lifted his gun. A shot rings out, middle man staggers for a moment before falling down, a shot the size of a fist through his chest. The other two are looking down at the middle man as he falls with barely a cry.  

“It’s the Ghoul!” Someone screams from above. The Ghoul sidesteps the stairs and ducks down stepping backwards as he fires again. His fingers working reflexively as his eyes took in the scene that was now playing out before him.  

A thunk echoes as a man on the right is hit, not before the Ghoul himself is hit in the lower leg. Some kind of scattershot he barely feels. His hands moving to his next weapon, leveling it, and firing again. More gunshots sizzle by him, this time coming from below the trailer. Jade hits the man on the left closest to her, another shooter jumps down from the roof. Cooper steps behind the trailer, he hears a scream and a man falls with a heavy thump. Looking around the corner he sees a man clutching his now severed hand, the pieces of it lying just in front of where Jade was hiding. The momentary distraction gives the Ghoul enough time to reload and fire, he hits the new man with a bang. The metal right beside Cooper’s face explodes as the bounty hunter fires while flinching from the impact. 

There are more coming, over the fence, and through the gate, it is filling up the small area very quickly. There are three more bangs as Jade takes careful aim, dropping the three that are closest to her. The Ghoul knew that they weren’t going to be taking them all like this, it was time to move and try to get out of there.  He had started to count shots already, knowing that they were not as well armed as they needed to be.

“Jade! I think it's time to go.” The Ghoul hollers moving slowly around the back of the trailer. He fires off another two shots hitting another two, one shrugs it off and another falls. He is unloading and reloading as he makes his way down the side.

Around the back, Jade is just standing covered in dust and grit but ready to move. One hand holds a blood-covered machete, the other a pistol. “Alright old man, how do we get out of here?”

A whoosh of air has them both ducking and jumping out of the way as the side of the trailer is blasted out and past the fencing. Looking down the hole a dark figure stands at the other side holding a large shoulder weapon.  Jade pops up, her face has ragged scratches across her cheeks that bleeds in rivets, but her face cracks into a smile as she throws her bag and then herself through the hole. The Ghoul lets out a chuckle as he follows after her, it had been less than two minutes but there was already the sound of people following after them. 

***

The Ghoul could hear her heart thumping next to him, the run from the town had been long and grueling, and what was left of the nerves in his feet hurt. Every muscle in his body was tense, his ears straining to hear any small movement. The bounty hunters had been relentless, their numbers had dwindled as the day went on, but there were still several nearby. He had never seen so many people searching for one bounty before, Dom Pedro seemed to have some major pull. Which leads to the question, why hadn’t the Ghoul heard of him before?

They had a bit of lead, enough of one so that when trees came into view they could make a hasty exit into the deep brush. The land was much more dry and barren here, the trees were shorter but the underbrush was thick. Enough that they were mostly hidden. In the scrub bush is where they now lay, listening to the people stomp through hollering and trying to draw them out. 

“Where the fuck are they?” Someone hollers less than a dozen feet from them. The person's heavy boots crunch on the leaf litter sticks breaking and cracking. If they move a few more feet they’d end up stepping on them. 

A few other voices call out echoing around the trees. The Ghoul held his breath and slowed his heart rate, so he could pinpoint where they were. Trying to envision the space around them, to place each person in the area. He didn’t have a plan, but he was going to need one soon, or they were both going to be dragged out of here in irons. 

“It’s getting dark,” Another voice, further away but still too close for comfort, calls out the other one moving towards it. Cracks of sticks and crunching of leaves made it hard to pinpoint how close they were. 

Jade’s eyes are screwed closed, the Ghoul wishes he could see her eyes. To see the green streaks of color, to whisper that they’d be okay. That they just had to wait a little longer, once it was dark they could make their escape. The sun was so close to being down-.

A crunch. 

“They're here-” 

The Ghoul goes to move but Jade is already up, her machete moving in a quick arch circle. A gunshot rings as the blade hits the man’s neck with a heavy thud. 

A gasp leaves the man as he tries to take in air from a severed windpipe. Jade’s body hits the ground as the Ghoul is standing, the bounty hunter clawing at his neck as the Ghoul fires a bullet into the man’s head. 

The darkening forest erupts into the sound as half a dozen more men come charging towards them. The Ghoul stands over top of Jade like a guard dog, his face a snarl as he tries to face everyone at once. He fires off as many rounds as he can, his body being peppered with various shrapnel. It doesn’t slow them down and soon he is surrounded, he strains to hear Jade’s breath but there is nothing. He keeps himself low and hoovering trying to reach for more ammo on an empty belt.

“Well shit, look who we got here,” A man swaggers in, his gun in hand, his other hand resting on his second pistol. He was a tall man, with a pot belly, black hat, and tattered clothes. “Too bad Jo is dead, but guess we will have to split the shares between us.”

The Ghoul goes to grab another weapon but two faceless hunters are on top of him. He lets out a ragged roar fighting back against them, but even Ghouls have limits. He gets several stabs in, but more people are there to stop him. He is clawing and fighting, trying to beat his way out of there. It takes four men to get him to drop his knife, they strip him of his bandoleer and any other weapons. Tossing the now useless pieces of metal far away from him. His wrists cased in heavy metal, they push him away from Jade. 

Turning his head as far as he can he sees Jade lying there, mouth slightly open, blood dripping from a wound in the middle of her head. The scratches on her now pale cheek are now clotted with the dirt from the forest floor. A cry falls from his mouth, a wounded sound like an animal who has stepped into the jaws of a trap. He pulls against the binds as the men hold him back, one of the bounty hunters uses his foot to push against her. 

“Well that sucks, guess we'll just get half,” The so-called leader states, his gun comes up and anyone not holding the Ghoul is promptly shot. “That’s alright, the bounty for the five of us will be more than good enough.”

There are a few tense chuckles, as the men fight to keep Cooper upright. He felt his feet drop out from under him, the men dragging him away, his mouth kept opening and closing trying to speak words but none came. How could she be dead? It couldn’t be, after all this time that she now lay bleeding out onto the leaf litter. Her eyes open just enough for him to see that the light was gone. She was gone. Jade was dead. 

***

The Ghoul can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind swirling around. All he can see is Jade lying motionless on the ground. If it wasn’t for the leakage of gore around her head she could have been asleep. Flashes of her sleeping beside him, how many times had he woken up to see her still asleep? Despite all the terrors that had befallen her she slept soundly by his side. Then he had gotten her killed, he was the reason for all of this, the reason she was now dead in the middle of the forest. Where her body would rot and her bones melt into the dirt. Where no one would ever know who she was. 

The bounty hunters didn’t even bother to move her body or take a piece of her to get her bounty. Instead, they had marched him as far south as they could and strapped him to a tree, stationing one of the hunters not far from him. The Ghoul’s brain swirled with questions that couldn't be answered, the bounty had been for both but they had left her. Why? Why was she discarded, how could they just discard her like it was nothing? 

He tried to get himself to think straight. Flashes of a dead white horse, a dead dog, bodies stacked along roads, gore, and blood flowing down the street. He could feel the heat of the bombs burning his skin and could feel it starting to sloth off. The screams, so many screams, that rang out over and over in his head. Cooper swayed leaning against the binds, tears dripping down his face. When was the last time he cried? Flashes of Jade, her smiling, the way she held his hand, her green streaked eyes. His body trembles, the bind cutting into his skin. Why didn’t they just kill him? Why was he still alive? Why was he still alive? 

Cooper

His eyes snap open, his vision swaying in and out of focus, the guard sitting looking away from him. The voice sounded so familiar and yet so far away. Cooper kept flexing his wrists trying to break through the rope. 

Cooper

It was Jade’s voice bouncing around in his head, Barb’s voice, Janey’s voice, calling his name. He blinked trying to get his eye to focus, a cough making his throat clench. His eyes rolling back, the bind now drawing blood as his scared skin broke against the rough rope. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out. If he could just move his hands he might be able to work at the ropes. Something hits his fingers, a gasp leaving his mouth, as pain shoots through his hands. 

“Don’t bother Ghoul,” The bounty hunter hisses, kicking him once again. “Nowhere to go anyway.”

Cooper doesn’t say anything, just glares at him trying to see who it is. Eyes burning with tears and rage making it hard to see in the dark. He was male, and shorter, but it was too dark to see much. Once he could see him he’d burn his face into his mind, so that when he was free he’d rip him apart. 

“They told us you’d be a tough one.” The man spits onto the ground, walking around him, hand tapping against the metal of his rifle that he carried in front of him. “But that girl made it easier. Made you soft. Bet if you hadn’t been carrying her you’d have outrun us.”

Ghoul fights against the ropes, gnashing his teeth at the man, an animalistic growl as he tries to get at him. The man doesn't even flinch instead raising a hand to backhand him hard enough to break teeth. Cooper refused to let him see pain, his hands behind his back scratching and grabbing at the rope. 

White hot rage breaks through him, as the man slaps him again. He can feel the rope start to break under his fingers, the rage fueling his strength. The man’s head is tipped back, laughter echoing through the trees, Cooper hears his name being screamed. The face of the woman who tried to help, dead soldier's corpses melted in the blast, his daughter being dragged away from him. Jade was dead on the leaf litter, her brain scattered around her like a halo. The pictures of death, destruction, and chaos, flash in his mind like a fire.

A snap of rope is felt more than heard. The Ghol lunges at the man, his dark eyes going white as they widen, caught off guard and the man falls to the ground. Cooper’s mouth opens as wide as it can as his finger finds purchase against his jacket, and his teeth sink into the side of the man's throat. He sinks in and rips back a chunk of the man’s throat, blood spewing out as a choked scream echoes into the night. The man is hitting over and over, but it doesn’t stop the rage. It doesn’t stop the voices screaming his name, it won't stop Jade from being dead. The Ghoul’s fingers rip into cloth and flesh, tearing and pulling chunks of matter. Spit dripping down his chin as he bites again and again, blood dripping down his face as he stares down at the now mauled man. Can feel the life ebb out of the body below him, it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. He would set fire to it all, then he’d find a way to end his suffering permanently.  

A shock of laughter leaves him as others come running toward the ripped-apart man. The Ghoul stands still laughing and runs towards them. Gunshots pepper his body, but it might as well be rain, he leaps at the first man who makes the mistake of running at him. Cooper’s nails might as well be knives as his fingers go into the man’s chest, a scream is ripped out of him as his body thumps onto the floor. The feeling of bone has Cooper grasping and ripping at the man’s chest like a frenzied animal. Two down three to go. 

There is a sharp pain across Cooper’s head and the whole world goes dark. The last thing he sees is Jade smiling at him.

*********

@pixelatedprofilepic @hiddlebatchedloki @toogaytofunctiondangit @dionneroyal49 @dichromaniac

@whatsorceressisthis

[rimunagenius]

Wish You Were Gay

ღ Pairing: Josette Maskin x AFAB!Straight!reader

ღ Word Count: 2k Words

ღ Warnings: RPF!! angst, hardcore pining (jojo obv), internalized homophobia, unrequited love, crippling jealousy, both preferred pronouns are used for Josette in this fic!

ღ a/n: This is based off Billie Eilish’s song ‘wish you were gay’ and I feel like i actually became a fucken poet with this. I’m sorry for the amount of therapy bills imma have to pay after this really sad fic…but also i feel like this is the perfect pining and unrequited love trope song that billie wrote imo.

ღ

ღ "Baby, I don't feel so good", six words you never understood

"I'll never let you go", five words you'll never say

Jo had this reacurring dream that you'd be here. In her bed. With her. Happy.

Everytime, you'd look to her and smile. Your one dimple on your left cheek more prominent as you layed on her chest. She'd stroke your hair, a matching smile plastered on their soft pink lips.

Josette would then say how they wished they could stay like this forever. You and her. Together. Finally happy. You'd smile, cheeks warming a soft pink, before your arms wrapped tighter around her waist, legs tangling together creating a perfectly entangled mess.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll never let you go."

That's usually where the dream ends. Waking up to cold sheets, no you by her side. Poorly dimmed room setting the precedent that her life feels just a little more empty without that part of you in it.

ღ I laugh along like nothing's wrong, four days has never felt so long

If three's a crowd and two was us, one slipped away

"Bye, you'd guys would make a cute little old lesbian couple!" Katie laughed as she watched you and Jo bickering over something so tiny. Naomi nodding their head in agreement, a small chuckle escaping their lips.

You laughed, a weird feeling settling in your stomach. You'd never even looked at Jo that way. So why would others think the opposite of you? You had a boyfriend.

Jo had noticed the look you gave her. Your joking and feigned annoyance over the small tussle, now shutting down the unserious side of you. It was because Katie had made a lesbian joke when you were straight, right?

Could you never think of her in such a way that when a joke is made, you get uncomfortable? Jo didn't want to over analyze so they laughed, albeit it was dry and short. A small pang in her chest, she wiped the tip of her nose, taking a deep breath and started to scroll on her phone.

She only had a day and a couple hours left to endure of this painful 4-day getaway friends trip. They just wanted it to be over.

ღ I just wanna make you feel okay

But all you do is look the other way

"Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay, baby?" Baby. She knew she should stop calling you that. That's something she's only ever heard him call you. Nicknames like that weren't reserverad for someone like her in your life.

"I'm okay, I could just really use a hug right now." You sighed, tears starting to well up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around her neck, her arms finding place on your waist.

"What do you need? Let me make you feel better, yeah?" Josette pulled away from you, her arms going from either side of your upper arms, to lifting your chin so you could see her. So she could look you in your pained eyes once, to see that she never wanted them to look that way again.

"Hey, you called me?" Jo recognized his voice anywhere. Your boyfriend. Of course. She should have known he'd be the first one you called. They should have known that whatever was bothering you, whoever made you cry, what ever you were struggling with, the burden was yours to carry and his to help.

How naive of Jo to think that maybe this once, you'd actually want her. Need her, to help you.

ღ I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't wanna stay

I just kinda wish you were gay

The more Jo had thought about yours and hers relationship, the more she thought about just up and leaving. She hates to admit that she spent a good amount of time every now and then wondering what her life would be like without you in it.

She knew what she felt was real, she knew you wouldn't ever give her a shot. The friendship was great. Blissful. But what could she possibly stay for if whenever she was around you, the crippling feeling of longing and yearning to feel you and know you completely; all of you, was something so impossible?

The way she felt...the way she wanted you to love her. It was so strong that she prayed that you'd soon realize that maybe he wasn't the right man for you and what you needed was her. A woman.

She wished you were gay. She wished it was her you longed to be with. To feel their skin. To know them so deeply and romantically that whatever you did, you did it because you loved them. Not him.

It was wrong. It was wrong that she wished your healthy relationship that made you happy, would crash and burn like her mind, heart and soul, whenever you walked into a room. How she prayed for impending doom on two happy people so she could be the one to make you happy. It was selfish. It was wrong.

You weren't gay, but god, she wished you were.

ღ Is there a reason we're not through?

Is there a 12-step just for you?

Our conversation's all in blue

11 "heys"

Ten fingers tearin' out my hair

Nine times, you never made it there

I ate alone at seven, you were six minutes away

Josette knew the only thing holding this friendship together was her. She didn't have to stay, have to be here. She didn't need to make herself feel this way.

You had him. You spent most of your time with him, most of your guys' plans cancelled or postponed because he needed something.

As a silent lover, she watched as you made time for him. Showed up for him. Yeah, you showed up for Jo too, but never with as much love and passion as you had for him. You did actually, but just not the kind that Josette wanted. You chose him. She just wished you chose her instead.

This was no different. You had plans to meet up for lunch. This nice cafe, in the middle of both your residing areas and it was all going to happen at 2. Soon, the first five minute of waiting turned into 15. Then to 30. Multiple messages sent to you waiting for an ETA.

You responded in seconds with a short response of a emergency on his side of the family. Jo sighed, the dull and aching feeling rising in her chest again.

They had to stop thinking swooping you away from him was going to change the fact that you weren't into girls. Jo had known you caught on.

Maybe this was her punishment: All the forced proximity and trying to change something already set in stone, was rejection by the one person she sought acception from. This was you pushing her away. God how could she be so stupid.

Jo was never going to change your mind, maybe this was the only way you could tell her without breaking her heart. Letting her eat alone...be alone.

ღ How am I supposed to make you feel okay

When all you do is walk the other way?

I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't wanna stay

I just kinda wish you were gay

When you started having problems with him, Jo heard about it. To Jo, it seemed that she was only here for you when he wasn’t. That wasn’t even true. It’s just the way her mind chose to see it, to be able to cope with the rejection she took in an absolute way.

She shouldn’t have let these feelings get in the way. She was setting herself up.

Josette couldn’t fathom loving anyone else with her whole being. It’d take a nuclear act of god to get her to stop her life from circling around you. The purgatory that was loving you when you couldn’t love her the way she wanted you to, was something she’d take over anyone else. The constant suffering was worth it.

You always ran to him for your romantic needs. But Jo’s heart had always ran back to you. She knew you knew. You just know she could never act on it without you setting up a block. So you did it all the time when you were around her.

Maybe in another universe or lifetime, she’d get to have you and experience different parts of you the way he did.

ღ To spare my pride

To give your lack of interest, an explanation

Don't say I'm not your type

Just say that I'm not your preferred sexual orientation

You may have looked at your boyfriend with heart eyes and the most romantic, endearment and adoration and with Josette, you looked at her the same.

Platonically binded by both your caring souls, like mindedness, and mutual interests. She was your soulmate in bestfriend form. You had certainly thought that if you had liked girls, or if Jo had been a boy, you’d love to love her in more ways than one.

But she wasn’t. Something about you two, together in this lifetime, was something that felt wrong. She was always meant to be your bestfriend. Nothing more. Josette had understood that.

She understood that it’s something you had grown up to understand was something that wasn’t socially accepted, atleast by your family. So she understood why you couldn’t pursue something romantic together.

She felt that maybe you did love her, maybe even felt the attraction, but she just wasn’t a man. The idea was unsettling to swallow at first—but it appeased her brain to know that it could happen…if the circumstances were different.

ღ I'm so selfish

But you make me feel helpless, yeah

And I can't stand another day

Stand another day

The longing was weighing down. The burden of carrying such a strong but passionate love for someone who couldn’t physically return it was starting to fuck with Jo.

She knew it was selfish to pray that you’d change your mind about your sexual orientation. To pray that you have always been that way but wanted to hide it. She prayed for any possibility that’d allow you to love her how she wished you did.

But she knew it’d never work. No matter what she said or did, nothing was going to change your mind.

She knew that; they couldn’t stand this anymore. It was becoming too much for her. The attachment and attraction blossomed more than she could’ve imagined. She needed to stop. Needed to forget you. Needed someone else.

But she couldn’t do that to you. Her body and soul couldn’t allow it. She couldn’t stand to breathe the same air as you if you weren’t breathing it together. How could she form a new connection and love someone so deeply when every part of her had already belonged to you.

Together. Together. Together. It’s all she’s ever wanted.

ღ I just wanna make you feel okay

But all you do is look the other way, hmm

I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't wanna stay

I just kinda wish you were gay

I just kinda wish you were gay

I just kinda wish you were gay

It was on her face, in her eyes, everytime they looked at you. You couldn’t bare seeing Jo in it so deeply and you couldn’t return it. You never wanted someone to break Jo’s heart.

It just never occurred to you that you were the one doing it. Everytime they looked at you, they always thought the same thing.

“I just wish you were gay”

Repeated like a never ending song in her brain. Everytime she was with you, she wanted to confess the feelings that she’s been carrying ever since you guys met. It was overwhelming and heartbreaking but a privilege.

Jo would rather you break her heart a little more everyday than anyone at all. She’d settle for the possibility of her possibly being able to change your mind about girls than forget the way you made every inch of her feel.

To feel love in the most absolute way. It was a privilege to love someone like you. So it was either she had to repeat the mantra in her mind and just go on about their day, pretending everything was fine, or not have you at all. She’d choose the first one everytime.

Cause she knew…in another life, you two would have it all. You be running to her. For anything. Whether it was for comfort or romantic endeavors. She’d be the one you’d choose.

You two would be together.

[alpydk]

Two Years (Gale x Tav)

Wrote this after reading a fic with a similar theme that honestly rubbed me up the wrong way with how it was handled (Sorry not sorry).

I will warn, this is not a happy read. - Word count 984

Ao3 Link

Summary : “You see me as I am and do not find me wanting. With these stars as my witness, I swear you'll always be enough for me.” It’s been two years since you and Gale agreed on the decision to have children together. That precious day where he held you as you finally admitted that you wanted children with him afraid of what he might say. He’d always said he loved to teach, that he loved you. But children of your own, you knew that could be a deal breaker. And yet he said yes, he said yes before taking you by the hand to the bedroom as if simply making the decision would instantly result in conception.

It’s been two years since you and Gale agreed on the decision to have children together. That precious day where he held you as you finally admitted that you wanted children with him afraid of what he might say. He’d always said he loved to teach, that he loved you. But children of your own, you knew that could be a deal breaker. And yet he said yes, he said yes before taking you by the hand to the bedroom as if simply making the decision would instantly result in conception.

You’d spent many a night in each other's embrace, his subtle touch upon your thigh, his leg nudging yours aside as he mounted you. But after two years things changed. He no longer takes the time to kiss you tenderly, holding your chin with his fingertips as you stand before the bed. You no longer look into his eyes with devotion as he rests above you, instead choosing to close your eyes and wait for things to be over. You love him but this is no longer a declaration of your hearts entwined. It's now a chore, a must-have to one day get the result you both used to long for.

In the start, you were hopeful and then came the first loss. It was early days and the clerics explained it was something that happened. That it was very common. That you should rest and the gods would one day bless you. The druids explained the cycles of the moons and provided herbal concoctions to aid you best. And you were both hopeful. Gale smiled at you with his deep soulful eyes and you believed them all despite the pain. They told you after loss there was a high chance of conceiving, so despite not wanting to be touched you tried, and you tried again. Ever hopeful that maybe this once would be the one needed. 

He never needed to ask when a cycle ended. He would simply see by your expression, by the puffy eyes if you had cried, or the way you opened the wine without hesitation and he would try to take your hand for comfort just to be shunned away. The guilt each and every time a reminder of how you were failing him. You wished things could go back to how they were two years ago. He loved you more than words could ever explain but you knew deep down that he deserved better.

Loss number two was less traumatic. The nausea came and you kept it hidden for fear of breaking the spell. You allowed yourselves to smile in secret, speaking not of the future, whispering small dreams to one another in bed. Names, would they be in touch with the weave? But when that future didn’t come to fruition you didn’t shed any tears because you had already expected it. You had already grieved before your body even registered what was happening. 

Gale secluded himself in his library looking for the answers that others couldn’t provide. He found so many books and wanted to try so many spells but you put up your own walls. At times he would snap if you interrupted his work. You’d bring him tea only to find the previous cup still full. He buried himself in the research while you tried your hardest to carry on as normal. You wouldn’t show him that you were hurt, keeping up a brave face. Everything was okay, your relationship was fine. You were still hopeful.  

You know he blamed himself. For his affliction with the orb, for his meddling with the goddess. His time in the library grew more and more and you spent days alone only to reunite with him for those passionless nights. And you told him it wasn’t his fault. That it was yours, something wrong with your body, your mind, your faith and when he denied it so vehemently you pushed him away. You both refused to blame each other. Instead feeling the rejection as you denied the feelings that came in waves. You both stayed away because you didn’t want to hurt one another with the pain you carried so heavily, the grief that you felt no one else could understand. 

“Your time will come. Well at least you know it can happen. My friend once…” You nod, tired of the platitudes, growing angrier at the world. You don’t even recognise yourself anymore and you understand why Gale won’t look at you, why the gods won’t bless you. Why would they bless you when this is the person you are now?

Two years and Gale now sits in front of you holding your hands in his, a distant reminder of a night under the stars. With you, I forget my goddess. He says he misses you. That he misses what you had together.   And for the first time in months, you finally see each other past the pain and loss and you realise you have missed him as well. So very much. You sit together and cry, holding each other, whispering apologies and I love yous.

He places a hand behind your head, the soft pad of his thumb brushing the tip of your ear and he kisses you with such a longing. As if he has been starved of your touch for so long. You place your hand on his chest, the markings of the orb long since faded and you feel his heart beat in tandem with yours. You let your hands roam, playing with the ties of his robe and for once you do not think could this be the night. You will think of that afterwards. For now, you want him. You want what you had, what you have. 

[goldendynastys]

wonderland (pt. 1) | cs

summary: Being home alone with your pets has always put you on edge, especially at night when you get extremely anxious. You thought you were over it towards the end of your parents’ vacation, but when a random stranger breaks in one night and insists on taking you with him, everything you once knew had begun to change. You knew how your story would end, you just weren’t sure if it was for the better, or the worst.

pairing: choi san x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+, MDNI | yandere, angst, fluff, eventual smut word count: 8.4k warning/tags: yandere, kidnapping, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, obsession, somewhat toxic relationship, fast burn, reader is innocent, angst, arguments between san and reader, lots of fluff, pet names, i think that is it but please let me know if i missed anything (i’m new at this), i hope you enjoy reading! <3

disclaimer: all members of Ateez are faces and name claims for this story. this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios.

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chapter one, always an angel, never a god (next →)

Growing up you always tried your best to stand out. Amongst your classmates, amongst your family. You did everything to make yourself unique, to be better. You wanted to be the best, and you tried so hard to achieve that. But in reality, you knew it was impossible, because there were a lot of people who were simply better than you. And you couldn’t compete with them, it was no use. So, you continued to be yourself, in hopes it would pay off and you would finally be the best at something, no matter what it was.

This notion of wanting to be the best most likely came from your family. It wasn’t anything your parents did per say, it was more your older brother. You loved him to pieces, but it seemed like he always got the most attention and adoration from your parents. You and your family’s lives weren’t normal (even though you hated saying those words, it made you cringe). Most families had lawyers, doctors, or strong business people within their families. Your family? Well, they were the leaders of the most popular biker gangs in town, known as the Sons of Anarchy. Yeah, not a typical job for most families.

Your dad had become the leader after your grandfather had retired, and your brother was next in line to take over once your dad was ready to retire, which was coming sooner than expected. Because of this, your parents focused more on him and making sure he was ready to take this on, as well as applauding him for his hardwork and dedication to the organization. Your parents still loved you and were so proud of you, but it was obvious they cared more for your brother than they did for you. You can take care of yourself just fine, your folks don’t need to worry about you. It’s your brother they gotta pay attention to so he doesn’t fuck all of this up, a member of the gang once told you when you were fourteen years old. 

You assumed it was in that moment, you realized you had to stand out if you wanted your parents proud of you. You had to defy their expectations, work hard and try to be the best in whatever areas you could be. 

And you did exactly that for the next nine years. You excelled in school, getting the highest grades on all of your assignments, exams, and classes. You found a small passion for tennis and excelled in that as well, even getting a scholarship for college that would cover both your tuition and dorm. When you got to college, you continued these same patterns (high grades on everything, being a great tennis player), and also got accepted to a master’s program for an additional year at no cost. 

But even with all of this effort, it didn’t seem to pay off. They were proud of your accomplishments, but it was still evident that they favored your brother and focused on getting him ready to become a leader of their gang. It broke your heart that after all of this time and hardwork, they were still focused on your brother, but from another perspective, it paid off in many ways. You got high academic honors, multiple awards for tennis, and into a great master’s program. You gave yourself these amazing opportunities, opportunities that were going to help shape your future and make it bright.

Instead of letting it consume you, you let it fuel you as motivation to keep going. Someday, someone would be proud of everything you’ve done, put you first and appreciate everything about you. You were looking forward to that day, to be a goddess amongst someone instead of just being a pretty angel like everyone else. 

Other than your family’s biker gang and your extracurriculars, you had lived a quiet life for as long as you could remember. Some of it was by choice, since you loved staying in bed and watching movies, but also because you were a lonely person. You had friends, friends that you adored of course, but they were always busy and never reached out to see if you wanted to go out. So, since you couldn’t go out by yourself (unless you wanted to be murdered), you were forced to stay inside. 

There were days where you hated it, resenting your life and criticizing yourself so harshly for staying in. You often wondered if you would regret it later on, worried that you weren’t living your life to the fullest. But you knew that wasn’t true, there were plenty of occasions where you went out, whether that was with your family or on vacation. You realized those were more special, as opposed to going out every weekend. That gave you some peace and closure, but those negative thoughts always came back to haunt you, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

But this weekend was different. Well, these past two weekends, actually. Your parents and your older brother were going on vacation. A trip to the mountains, to be exact. They said it was for business, given the other biker branches of Sons of Anarchy operating in the country and how they needed help from time to time. When you heard your parents and brother were going for work but also taking time for themselves to relax, it made your heart happy knowing they were getting some sort of a break. Despite your strange relationship, you still loved them and wanted them to rest and live their lives. 

While they were away, you were asked to watch over the house and your pets, a dog named Spuds and a cat named Pumpkin. They required minimal care, since they were on the older side, but Spuds needed a little more attention than Pumpkin. You had to make his dinner, take him on walks and out to do his business, and sleep with him at night so he wouldn't get lonely (your dad and mom did all of this when they were home). All Pumpkin needed was to be fed once a day and have her litter box changed every couple days (you already fed her, but your dad was the one to change her litter box when he was home). So, your tasks for the pets weren’t hard to do, per se, it just prevented you from doing certain things for the week. 

And you didn’t mind at all. You loved your pets and would do anything for them, but you also loved your parents and would do anything for them, too. They worked extremely hard and have given you and your brother a great life, so it was the least you could do. You often felt bad that you couldn’t pay them back in monetary ways to show how much you appreciate everything they did for you, but if there was anything they needed help with or wanted you to complete for them, you would do it in a heartbeat.

You wanted to give your family this, a week away from the chaos that was their life where they didn’t have to worry about anything. It made your heart happy knowing they were going on this trip. The only thing that seemed to bother you, however, was the nighttime and falling asleep.

Like the chronic overthinker you were, you were worried that someone was going to break into your house and hurt you. You put on the television and watched Bob’s Burgers in order to help you fall asleep and make sure the house wasn’t too quiet. Still, the little creaks and sounds you heard at night made your heart jump, worried that something bad was going to happen. 

Nothing ever did, however. You were able to fall asleep and wake up in the early morning to everything the way that it was the day before. You were just hyper aware of everything and wanted to make sure everything was okay. So while your thoughts were too extreme and never manifested into anything bad, you kept telling yourself that you were okay and that nothing would happen. 

You had almost gotten used to it towards the end of their vacation. You still played Bob's Burgers to help you fall asleep and add noise, of course, but you were much calmer than you were earlier in the week. In fact, you were getting excited to see your family again and for everything to go back to normal. As much as you loved having the house to yourself and sleeping next to your dog every night, you were ready to not be in charge anymore and just do whatever the hell you wanted.

The day had gone by as usual; you decided to get some groceries after your dad texted you that he and your brother needed stuff from the store. You went out in the early afternoon, going on a walk with Spuds earlier to get your steps and the dog’s exercise in for the day. You got yourself some treats while you were out that you could enjoy tonight, after you ordered in from your favorite restaurant. Additionally, you had enough money to treat yourself to some books and albums you wanted (thank God you had gotten paid a few days ago), and wanted to reward yourself for taking such good care of your pets and house for the week. The sun was out and the air was warm, making it a perfect day in your book.

After having your dinner and sweet treats, you found yourself growing tired and decided to go to sleep. You were happy it was the weekend and you didn’t have to worry about waking up early for work the next day. As usual, you put on Bob’s Burgers and fell asleep around eleven-thirty, a sense of happiness within you knowing your parents and brother would be home early tomorrow.

But you were awoken in the middle of the night to Spuds barking, which was something he never did. The TV had shut off due to the timer you put it on before you fell asleep, so it couldn’t have been another dog barking on the program you were watching. No, this was something else. Something that made your stomach drop with fear.

You immediately grabbed your phone and pressed your back against the door. Spuds wanted to go out and see who was downstairs, but you tried to calm him down. “Shh! Be quiet, someone’s here and I need you to stop barking,” you whispered in hopes Spuds would listen and actually stop (he did after you gave him a small treat).

You didn’t hesitate to call the police, your gut telling you this was an emergency and you desperately needed help. Once you dialed the number, however, you noticed your phone just kept ringing, no one was answering. You noticed that your phone wasn’t connected to the wi-fi, and your connection was extremely low. Odd. That never happened; even when the wi-fi was down, you were able to use the Internet and call people just fine. Why wasn’t it working now? Were the power lines destroyed by a large tree? It made no sense, but you kept calling in hopes that it would go through.

A loud sound could be heard downstairs. Someone must’ve broken down the doors, as you could hear muffled voices stepping over the damage they did and walking into your living room. Your chest tightened and you wanted to sob, but you had to remain quiet. You couldn’t let whoever was in your house know that you were here. That way, they would leave quicker and leave you alone. You placed a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down, breathing in slowly to calm down and pull yourself together. Hopefully, they would realize no one was home and be on their way. 

It wasn’t until you heard Pumpkin meow and someone speak up that you snapped out of your thoughts. “Aw, she has a cat. How cute, hi pretty kitty,” a soft voice spoke. “Will you let her take it home with you?”

“No, I already have a cat at home that she’ll love, she doesn’t need two. They wouldn’t get along, anyways. Pip hates other cats. Hell, she doesn’t even like Gunner and Tank, and they’ve been living together for years,” another voice answered. “It might be worth it to kill this one, it doesn’t seem friendly and if it stands in the way of me getting my girl, then by all means . . .”

You didn’t even think twice before opening the door and running to the top of the stairs. “No, no, don't do it! Please don’t!” You shouted. 

A chorus of chuckles responded to your pleas, and your stomach dropped. You just realized you fell for their trap. They weren’t going to kill your cat, they were just doing it to lure you out of your room. And you fell for it, like a complete idiot. 

Their laughter made you realize you didn’t want to cower in your room anymore. This was your house, they had no right to be there. You wanted to see why they were here, even if it got you killed or injured in the end, and you wanted to get them the hell out before you killed them yourself. Without hesitating, you grabbed a pair of scissors from your bathroom and made your way downstairs.

You were greeted by three men, all wearing ski masks to hide their identities. Your stomach dropped once more and your nerves increased again, but you kept your grip tight on your scissors. You weren’t going to let them win.

“Ah, there you are. We were wondering when you were going to come out,” the man in the middle spoke first. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t hurt your cat. You’re gonna love the one I have at home, and she’s going to love you.”

“What the fuck do you want with me, assholes?” You spat, holding up the scissors higher. “I won’t hesitate to stab you if you come any closer and I got the cops on speed dial.”

The third person laughed at your words. He was taller than the other two, his demeanor much different compared to them as well. His voice was deep and you could picture his sinister smile under his mask so easily. You seriously considered stabbing him right then and there. “You picked a feisty one, Sannie. I like her, do you think she’d be better off with me?” He questioned.

The man in the middle, who apparently went by the name Sannie (it must be a nickname), answered his friend bitterly. “You’re funny, Mingi. But you know she’s mine, everyone does. No one touches her but me,” the man explained. “Sorry about him. Mingi here likes to flirt with any girl that breathes, including ones that are taken.”

“What the hell– what the fuck is this? Are you here to kill me, sacrifice me to the woods, what the fuck?” You shook your head in pure confusion. “I’ll call the cops, I swear to God–”

“And what will that do, baby? We know how to outrun cops, they won’t get here until the time we’re about to leave,” he teased. 

You froze at the nickname, a stern look now on your face. Who the hell does this guy think he is? You take a few steps back and hold the scissors out to stop them from coming closer to you. “My mom’s jewelry isn’t here if that’s what you want. She gave it to someone to keep it safe, and they live far away from here. I don’t have anything, only two dollars and a broken record player. I got nothing, nothing that you want.”

“Oh, but you do have what I want,” the man snickered. “Come with me and we’ll leave your house alone. Everything will go untouched.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” you spat. 

“Ah, but it will,” he protested. He turned to his two friends, who stood quietly and waited for instructions. “You have her family’s location, right? Send a text to Cyrus and send his men to their hotel, give them a good scare and take everything they have.”

Deep down, you knew he was bluffing. He was just doing it to get a rise out of you, he wouldn’t actually hurt your family. But you couldn’t risk it, no matter how much your brain was trying to rationalize with you. You immediately stepped closer to all of them, a look of fear and worry now on your face. “No, no, no! Please don’t, don’t bring my family into this, they haven’t done anything. Just leave them alone! Don’t hurt them, please.”

“Then do as I say,” he spoke slowly and grunted. “Come with me and everything goes untouched, including your family and pets. Deal?”

You hesitated. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes as you stared at the masked men — you hated this, how much power they had over you. Breaking into your home in the middle of the night and demanding you leave the people you’re taking care of. You wanted to stab all of them and call the police to make them go away — but you knew you couldn’t take them all in a fight. It would end up with you and your family getting hurt, and you couldn’t risk that.

A small plan came to mind. You weren’t sure how well it would work, but there was a small chance it would. Your phone could still send text messages even if the connection was bad, a SMS message. Your brother was always up at this hour, he was a night owl who loved to stay up and play video games until he got tired. If you sent him a message telling him what happened and to call the cops on your behalf, surely they would get to your house on time and save you from this mess. He could even call the other members of the Sons of Anarchy and have them save you, they would be at your house in no time. If that didn’t work, then you could send your location to your brother and have him track you wherever you go. It was a longshot, but you had to try. Anything to get out of this and keep yourself safe.

“F-Fine, I’ll go with you,” you stuttered nervously. “But I need to change, it’s too cold for me to be wearing just a t-shirt. I’ll be right back.”

The man shook his head. “No, we’re going now—”

You cut him off instantly. “I need to change and you’re going to let me do so. Got it?”

The other men laughed at your comment, clearly not intimidated by your stern voice. The one you spoke to only sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Okay, sure. But you have five minutes. If you’re not back here, I’m coming up there to get you. Got it?” He mocked. You only sent him a stern look before trudging up the stairs. You instantly ran into your bedroom, your dog barking loudly while you whipped out your phone and started to text your brother. You began the message by addressing him by his name to show him how serious this was. I need you to call the cops, these men broke in and one of them is trying to kidnap me. Have them come to the house, I’m sending you my location in case they take me before the cops get here. Tell mom and dad what’s happening. See if Jeffery or the others can help. I love you so much.

The message wasn't sent until you sent it as an SMS message. You sighed in relief, hoping this would all be resolved within the next day or two. You closed your eyes to breathe for a moment, until you heard the muffling of shoes and voices downstairs, the sounds making you angry. “You got two minutes, Princess. Are you almost done?” The man shouted.

“Whatever!” You shouted back as you rolled your eyes. The nickname, the men, the one who wanted to kidnap you — it was all stupid. Stupid bullshit you had no idea why it was happening. You wanted to scream, but you hoped the cops would be on their way soon. You just hoped your plan would work to some extent. It didn’t have to be perfect, you just needed to be saved from whatever the hell this was.

You quickly threw on a purple long sleeve shirt and grabbed your phone, slipping it into your purse you decided to bring last minute. It had a taser and pepper stray, which would come in handy if any of them tried to hurt you. Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door and made your way to the kitchen. 

You could feel eyes burning into you as you walked downstairs. Someone whistled, which resulted in the man speaking to you hitting their chest harshly. He walked over to you and placed your hand into his, his grip strong but gentle. “You look beautiful, let's go home, it’s late and we both need to get some sleep, don’t you think?”

No words left your lips. Rather, you just remained silent as the man eagerly began to walk out of your house. Tears formed in your eyes once more as you got outside, scared to leave your home and family. You had no idea what the hell was going to happen, and the thought of never seeing them again made your heart shatter. 

It didn’t take you long to reach the cars parked near the woods. One of them was a van, in which the two men entered and began the engine. They both fist-bumped the man you were with (you wanted to scream), congratulating him on “getting his girl” (whatever the fuck that meant). As the two drove off, you were thrown into the passenger seat of a nice pickup truck. The man didn’t say a word to you, he only got in and began to drive off.

You had no idea where you were going. If they were going to kill you, or worse. The fear kept creeping into your mind; you had to do something, but you felt frozen. Then, out of nowhere, you started to pull on the door handle harshly in hopes the door would open. Perhaps your brain finally came to its senses and told your muscles to do something.

“Let me go, asshole!” You told him aggressively as you continued to yank on the handle. The man only laughed, to which you sent him a pressing glare and widened your eyes. “I’m sorry? I’m fighting for my life against a stranger who kidnapped me and all you can do is laugh? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He continued to laugh and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re just so cute when you act out, it’s just so adorable.”

This man is insane, you thought to yourself. Your jaw dropped and you immediately closed it before he could make another comment. An idea perked up in your mind and you sent a soft smile to him. “I can be extra cute, you know. Yeah, if you stop the car and let me out, I’ll act extra cute just for you. You’re going to love it.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you out in a few minutes,” he told you, his eyes still on the road.

You got excited. You were hopeful that he had fallen for your trap. You were starting to think that maybe he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. That sense of optimism and hope you had was instantly crushed, however, once you realized you were pulling into a driveway. He was only going to let you out once you got here, so you wouldn’t be able to run away. Nice going, idiot, you thought to yourself.

The man had stopped his truck and jumped out to grab you. It didn’t take long before he was helping you out and walking you into the house with an arm around your waist. No matter how hard you tried to pull away, his grip remained firm. And you couldn’t fight back because of how strong he was. The muscles poking out of his t-shirt told you everything you needed to know.

The house was pretty big, with pretty windows and exterior design. A lake stood only a few feet away from the backyard, some fireflies flying over the water and area. You didn’t want to admit it, but the sight made you smile a little, but it faded away once the door opened and you were forced into the house by the man. Who knows what was on the other side.

The inside looked even prettier than the outside, which took you by surprise. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the place, as it was the spitting image of your dream home. The furniture, the walls, the decor — it was everything you wanted in a house. For a split second, you had forgotten where you were or what was happening. It was honestly nice to just enjoy the scene in front of you, admire the house and pretend like everything was okay.

“Do you like it?” The man asked, pulling you back into reality. “I had it designed a few years ago, but added what you liked once I learned more about you. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I hate to say it, but it is. But there is one thing I’d take out that would make it absolutely perfect. I wonder what that could be . . . oh yeah, you,” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest. “So, what? Are you going to kill me in your basement, sell me or my organs to the black market? Sacrifice me to some cult you and your friends are a part of? You mind telling me what the hell is going on here? You’ve kept me alive this long, and if I’m going to die soon, I’d at least like to know what I’m dying for. And take off your mask, I’d like to know the face of the man I’m going to haunt for all eternity once I’m dead. Plus, it’s really stupid.”

He chuckled at your words. You could picture his smug smile under his mask, and it annoyed you even more. “Nah, none of the above, actually. I brought you here for a more special reason, and it has nothing to do with you dying or being sacrificed to Satan.”

“How unfortunate,” you muttered under your breath.

He didn’t say a word about your comment. Instead, he slowly removed the ski mask off of his face and set it down on the table. You stared at him, taking in his features. He had a sharp jawline, with brown eyes and red hair. Dyed red hair, obviously. You could see his dark roots under the red. He looked intimidating, but also . . . sweet? Kind? You couldn’t tell. He had an awful demeanor, given what he just did to you. He was strong, as you noticed the muscles standing out through his shirt from beforehand. Buff, if you will. But even within that, he didn’t seem too mean. There was something about him that appeared to be gentle, which made no sense given the context of why you were in his house. 

He caught you staring at him and sent you a sly smirk. “Like what you see?”

“No,” you responded quickly and rolled your eyes. “Now answer my question: what the hell do you want with me? Why am I here?”

The man only sighed and made his way closer to you. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, goosebumps now evident on your neck. You gulped in fear, hoping he would stop and give you some space. “You’re here because I want you to be with me. My girlfriend, if you will. I knew the first day I saw you that you were mine. The boys kept telling me I had to give it more time to really make sure, but I didn’t agree with them. I made them help me make a plan to bring you home, and now here we are.”

“P-Plan? You had this entire thing planned, to kidnap me?” You asked. “W-What, this is so fucked up, I . . . wait, when did you see me? Because I’ve never seen you before in my life, you’re lying.”

“A few months ago, when you were working at the grocery store. You were too caught up in getting that order ready, but you gave me a soft smile, and I knew then that it was you. I did everything I could to learn more about you, and it didn’t take me long to concoct a plan to make you mine,” he explained. 

You wanted to scream. Your chest was tight and you could feel your hands forming into fists. Tears began to prick in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall, you didn’t want this man to think you were weak, or that you wanted his sympathy. “So you stalked me? You just gathered all the information that you could and stalked me?”

“Well, when you put it that way—” He tried to joke, but you only scoffed. He grabbed your arms in an attempt to help you not get angry. “Hey, hey — I know it sounds bad, but I did this for a reason. The men in my line of business, it’s just how we get our girls and make them ours. It helps us ensure that they stay with us and no one will take them away. I had to do this, to make sure you were safe. You’ll understand overtime.”

The man was rubbing his thumb over your arms to help you calm down, but you yanked them back and made your way to the other side of the living room, to get as far away from him as you could. “First of all, that is wrong on so many levels, I don’t even know what to say except that you’re crazy and that is not how you treat romantic partners. Second of all, you could’ve just asked me on a date like a normal person, I would’ve said yes.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? I’ll take you on a bunch of dates soon, Princess. It’ll be like you said and we’ll do anything you want. Anything to make my girl happy.”

“I’m all set, thanks. I’ll be getting out of here soon enough, so the dates aren’t gonna happen. Especially when you’re behind bars,” you reassured both yourself and him. 

Your comment only made him laugh. “Sure, baby, sure. The cops won’t find us, I know how to outrun them and keep them off my back. You think I would just take you without thinking about the police first? They won’t know a thing, and they’ll never find you. Hell, they don’t even know what I look like, just my name. Even then, they fear me.”

“I’m not talking about the cops. My family and our friends know a thing of two about dealing with assholes like you. You’ll be lucky if they let you go in one piece, and even then you’ll be begging them to throw you in a jail cell,” you threatened. If there was one thing you knew for sure in this world, is that if you were ever in a crisis, your family and their motorcycle gang would be there in an instant to get you out. That was the only thing keeping you sane, knowing they would save you from this mess.

He couldn’t help but scoff at your comment. “Oh, really? You think the Sons of Anarchy are gonna scare me into letting you go? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Princess, but I can outrun and outsmart your family and their little group. Once they figure out who I am, they’ll be scared shitless and won’t stand a chance against me and the boys. The cops fear me, they’ll fear me, everyone is scared of me. There’s no getting out of this, no matter how hard you try.”

“Yeah? And what’s your name if everyone’s so scared of you?” You joked, trying to irk the hell out of this man so he would eventually break and let you go.

“San. Choi San, if you want my full name.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You heard that name before, a long time ago, but you couldn’t remember where. “Choi San . . . why does that sound familiar?”

“Probably heard of me on the news. The gang I’m a part of, too. Yeah, we’re on the news a lot for the shit that we do. Does the name Ateez ring a bell? Everyone says we’re dangerous and a threat to the city, but it’s a bunch of bullshit. We’re just doing what we love most. We’re strong, fast, and protect ourselves well. Where’s the harm in that?”

Your stomach dropped at the realization. You knew very well what Ateez was, they were the talk of the town for years, even now. You remember learning about them when you moved home for your master’s program, your family so horrified and disgusted with their actions. You didn’t like them, either, being extra precautious when traveling around town and when you were at school for the day. But you never thought you’d actually come face to face with one of the members; it was one of those things where you would never expect to run into them in real time, only in your imagination. To be in the house of a member was something you never expected to happen.

The room was silent as you stared at San. Your breath hitched as you felt your feet take you backwards, only a little bit. Being a member of Ateez only meant violence, danger, and you had no idea what Choi San wanted with you. You wanted to take out the can of pepper spray you brought with you. The lap in the living room seemed to be a better weapon, however. Anything to defend yourself against him in case things went terribly wrong. “Ateez? Yeah, I’ve heard of you. You’re criminals. You’re dangerous, violent, and cruel.”

“Ouch. That your opinion or what everyone else keeps telling you?” San bit back, taking a few steps closer to you, in which you kept backing up. “Whatever you think about us, it’s not true. We aren’t evil people, we work for what is ours and do whatever we need to do to get it. Yeah we’re involved in dangerous shit, but we can protect ourselves well. We know how to handle it.”

“Doesn’t negate the fact that you still work with illegal shit,” you spat, your arms now crossed over your chest. 

San let out a small laugh. “Oh, and the Sons of Anarchy are completely innocent? They’re not the good people you think they are,” he said, saying your name at the end of his sentence to show how serious he was being.

“That’s different. The Sons of Anarchy have done some terrible things, yes, but they’ve changed. They aren’t the same people they were five years ago, my brother is changing it for the better. Unlike you and your friends, they actually care about people and don’t take them from their homes in the middle of the night,” you defended. 

“Yeah, sure they have. Deny it all you want, but they are exactly the same as us. We are one in the same. You’ll see it soon enough and realize your family aren’t the perfect people you make them out to be,” San fought back, his jaw now tighter than before. Whatever you said ticked him off, perhaps at how naive you were being. 

But you didn’t care. You stood by what you said — your family and the Sons of Anarchy were good people, they were changing for the better. No matter what San said, you wouldn’t let him get into your head. Especially after what he did to you.

A sigh escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair. You slowly started to put the pieces together to try and make sense of all of this. “Is that . . . is that why I’m here? Because you saw me and thought it’d be funny to rip a random girl away from her family? To upset her family who did nothing to you, all because you can? God, why can’t I just go home?”

You were about to cry, you could feel the tears welling up again and your voice getting weaker every time you spoke. As much as you wanted to hold them back, you just let them fall because you couldn’t take it anymore. You let the tears fall as you profusely wiped them with your sleeve. The night had gotten to be too much, between being taken by a random man after he broke into your house and the possibility of never seeing your family again. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, it had to release its emotions.

San caught onto this and immediately rushed to your side, pulling your hand away from your face and wiping your tears with his thumb. “Hey, hey,” he cooed. When you tried to pull away from him, he gently grabbed your arm and brought you closer to his chest, your arm resting against it to create some distance. “I know this is a lot, this is a big change for you and it’s very hard to hear. But like I told you, I took you because I know you’re the one for me. I want to be with you,” he explained, whispering your name to show how serious he was about this. “My pretty little housewife, I just want to love and take care of you, Princess. This will be a hard adjustment, I know, but I can make you happy, give you a life that you deserve.”

“Wait, housewife? You just said girlfriend, you never said anything about me being a housewife. Jesus Christ, I don’t even know how to cook let alone raise a baby—” You started, your chest tightening in fear.

“Too much, that’s my fault,” San cut you off. He slipped his hand into yours, still holding you in his chest. “Let's go to bed, we can talk about this more in the morning after we’ve slept, okay?”

You didn’t say anything. You remained quiet as San guided you up the stairs. The second floor was even prettier than the first, with multiple rooms lining the halls accompanied with pretty colors and paintings. He took you to the end of the hall, which you assumed was his bedroom. And it was. In the center stood a king sized bed, with a flatscreen TV mounted to the wall. Dressers, a closet, and a master bathroom were a part of the bedroom. It was a nice room, especially with how big the windows were. You liked it a lot, despite the situation you were in.

You awkwardly stood in the middle of the room while San searched through his drawers. He came back to you, handing you a large t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. “These will do for the night, I didn’t get a chance to go shopping for your clothes this week, only some basic t-shirts. We’ll get you some more this week, but for now my clothes will have to do. You can get changed out here, I’ll just change while I brush my teeth. I have one for you, too. You can just come in whenever you’re ready.”

You only nodded your head, and he was in the bathroom within seconds. You quickly tore off your clothes quickly to make sure San wouldn’t come out and see you half naked. His clothes were big, but so comfortable (though you would never admit it). As you folded your clothes, you remembered your phone was still in the back pocket. As quickly as you could, you pulled your phone out to see if your message had gone through. SMS error, the screen read. Damnit, you thought to yourself. You hoped you’d have a second of alone time so you could try sending it again, now that you were in a different location. 

You hid your phone under your clothes and kicked them into a pile once you heard San open the bathroom door. Once he walked out, you traded places and began to brush your teeth quickly. You liked how the bathroom had two sinks, a big shower, and a nice bathtub. You always liked bathrooms like that, for whatever reason. They just felt fancy, elegant.

San stood over the bed by the time you had gotten out, scrolling through his phone. He immediately shut it off and walked over to you. He couldn’t help but bite his lip as he admired you (probably because you were wearing his clothes), to which you rolled your eyes. “Sorry, Princess,” he chuckled. “You just look so good in my clothes. My pretty girl. Come, let's go to sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you. I’ll just sleep on the couch downstairs with some pillows and blankets,” you shook your head. 

“It wasn’t a question, you’ll be sleeping with me from now on,” he told you sternly, his jaw tightening. 

“And I told you I’m not going to,” you fought back. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sleeping on the couch whether you like it or not, asshole.”

Before San could protest, you opened the door. Only, instead of going downstairs, you were stopped by a small cat sitting at the doorway. Once it saw you, it began to meow and rub up against your leg. You immediately fell in love with it; as much as you didn’t want to pick it up (because you weren’t sure if it liked being touched), you felt your arms reaching down and scooping it into your grasp. You immediately felt the vibrations against your hands, the cat now content with you holding it. 

“Why hello there,” you cooed with a wide smile. “You are very beautiful, and very sweet. What’s your name? I absolutely adore you.”

“Her name is Pip. I rescued her from a shelter almost seven years ago—” San started to explain.

“I only asked for her name,” you cut him off, your eyes still glued to the cat. “Hi Pippie, that is such a cute name. I want to take you home with me so badly, you’d love my cat. But I guess we’re both stuck here with that thing in the corner, but we don’t have to spend time with him. Come, we’re gonna sleep downstairs on the couch.”

As you were about to leave the bedroom with Pip, San called out to you. “Wait!” he said. 

You slowly turned around with the cat still in your arms. “Pip just told me she wants to go to sleep, so make it quick.”

His jaw tightened once more, the stern look from earlier was now on his face again. “The couch isn’t that comfortable to sleep on. It’s less comfortable than the bed. Sleep with me here tonight, and I’ll let Pip sleep right next to you.”

“I still don’t feel comfortable sleeping with you—”

“Pip never sleeps with me, I’ve tried so many times but she won’t budge. But with you, she might. Just sleep here with me, please,” San cut you off, his voice now tired. Clearly, he had enough of your behavior and wanted to go to sleep. You did too, but he asked for this after what he did. It was his own damn fault. 

The cat kept purring against you, her head now in your neck. After thinking about this for a few minutes, you let out a sigh and groaned dramatically. “Ugh, fine. You win, I’ll sleep in your bed tonight. But I swear to God, if you try anything, I will stab you over and over again until you are dead. Got it?”

He chuckled with a smile. “You’re so cute when you act all bratty and tough.”

You rolled your eyes as you reluctantly dragged yourself to the bed. “I’m not a brat, you’re the brat,” you muttered. Once you sat down, Pip crawled out of your arms and planted herself on the end of the bed. Slowly and nervously, you laid down and pulled the covers over your body.

Without warning, San wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed your back against your chest. Your hand immediately went up to smack it. “Um, no. This is my half of the bed, you stay on your half. Did you forget about the invisible barrier that splits down the middle?”

“Really? There was? Hmm, guess I broke it,” San shrugged his shoulders. You tried to move out of his grip, but it was no use, he was much stronger than you. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and placed gentle kisses on your cheek and neck. “Goodnight,” he whispered your name, placing one final kiss on your neck.

But you didn’t wish him the same. Rather, you shut your eyes and tried to fall asleep. Pip’s purring and warmth kept you calm, but other than that, your mind was on fire. A million thoughts burned through it, you didn’t know where to begin or how to make sense of it all. Your life changed in an instant. One minute, you were happy living at home with your family and enjoying your small vacation. The next minute, you were kidnapped in the middle of the night by some creep who was a part of the most dangerous gangs in the area, claiming to be in love with you and making you his “girlfriend.” You had no idea why this was happening to you, why he wanted you, out of all people.

You always cringe at yourself whenever you think of yourself like this, but you weren’t special. You wanted to smack yourself in the head at how stupid you sounded, but it was true. You weren’t. You were just like everyone else, no matter how hard you tried to be different. Everything you did, from tennis to school, was the same as everyone else. There were people who were better than you, much better, you would never be on top. There was always someone who was more talented or more skilled than you. You were never enough, no matter how hard you tried. 

Even with your friends and family, you were just normal to them. You knew it was different with your family, since they focused on your brother more and wanted to get him prepared for taking over the Sons of Anarchy when his time came. They constantly praised him and put all of their attention into him, so you expected them to not think of you as their favorite. Your friends were a different story, however. 

Whenever you made a friend and became really close to them, you thought so highly of them. You thought they were your best friend, and that they thought the same. The one person they could go to for anything, their special friend. You always thought of your friends that way, but they never did about you. They always had someone they were closer to, someone they’d pick over you without hesitating. You’ve always wanted that, ever since you were younger and everyone seemed to not like  you because you were “weird.” And everytime you thought you found that person, they never thought of you the same way.

It crushed you, but you knew that person would come into your life someday. You loved the friends you had and the memories you shared, but you just wanted a best friend. Someone who could count on you and would choose you first, and you the same. Someday you would find that person, you knew in your heart that you would.

You were used to never being enough, for anyone or anything. You had grown to accept that, and you thought you would be fine and that everything happened for a reason. But now came Choi San, a man who claimed to be “the one” for you and would put you first. Well, from what you gathered. You had no idea what he was capable of, if he was going to kill you in the middle of the night while you were asleep. But he seemed to really care for you, in his own sick and twisted way. 

He certainly couldn’t be the person you kept praying about. No, this man was insane. He kidnapped you in the middle of the night, took you away from your family, most likely for good. One minute he seemed sweet, but the next, he could easily get angry and possibly hurt you badly. This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be the person you were searching for your entire life. You deserved better, and this was a sick punishment you got for absolutely no reason. You weren’t perfect by any means, but you did not deserve this.

You were sure things would change in the coming days. You would figure out a way to get out of this hellhole and back to your normal life, even if it took some time. You were determined to be reunited with your family again, and you were going to make sure that it happened. It didn’t matter what you had to endure — as long as you could find a way out, you would do anything if it meant returning to the life you once knew and loved.

All your life, you had been an angel amongst gods and prayed one day you would become one. Now that you had that power, the ability to be seen as a god — you were starting to realize that maybe you were better off being an angel. Angels never got hurt, they cared for others but no one did the same for them. Perhaps you were better off as an angel, invisible amongst the gods where you didn’t have to worry about anyone but yourself. 

Back then you had your freedom, but now you were trapped with the devil himself, and you didn’t want to be a god who would succumb to their worst nightmares just to survive. You couldn’t let yourself. And now, you would do anything to get your freedom back. Even if it meant sacrificing yourself to become an angel for as long as you lived.

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✰ sinking lily pads

— synopsis. he thrived in the sorcerer world, she was forced into it. how could two people that strayed so differently from each other become so close?

— pairing. gojo x oc!fem!reader (main), toji fushiguro x oc!fem!reader

— word count. 4.1k

— contents. mentions of child abuse, neglect, abandonment, angsty asf, injuries, blood/gore, depressing thoughts, dissociation, ptsd, mentions of death, jjk violence/fighting

series masterlist | previous chapter

✰ chapter two. lives left

He would’ve preferred to leave Moon’s room in a better mood, but the reveal that she had died on her previous mission had his blood boiling. 

All of a sudden he was seeing red, wishing to resurrect the creature that had killed her— just to kill them again. This time slowly, giving him time to make this evil being suffer. 

I have this technique for a reason.

Her words echoed in his head, and logically he knew she was right. She wielded the 9 lives because she was strong enough. She was meant to. Although, it never brought him comfort. He rather her never having to use the 9 lives technique at all. 

Despite all that had happened in the past with Moon and himself— he never stopped caring for her. He wished it could be like that, a switch that he could turn off. All too quickly, he knew that weren’t to be true. He’d always care about her, no matter how hard she tried pushing him away. 

Besides, he always knew there was something deeper to her. Something that had her thinking as such. He didn’t need the Six Eyes to recognize the pain she hid underneath her facade. 

He didn’t even know where he was walking, letting his feet guide him aimlessly through the school. His mind was empty of a destination, and instead forced him to remember that day. The one he remembered all too well. 

(Flashback to a year)

The sun shining through the treetops mixed with the cool breeze, it couldn’t have felt more perfect outside. The distinct smell of the flowers blooming, the sweet aroma filling the air. It was addicting, almost easy to let yourself get lost in the moment. 

Gojo had his glasses pushed up into his hair, the object being used as a makeshift headband. He leaned back on his arms, letting his face point towards the golden rays. It felt heavenly on his skin. 

“God,” Moon’s voice whispered next to him, “Feels so perfect outside.”

The white haired sorcerer tilted his head in her direction, giving her a smirk when they met eyes. 

“Of course it's perfect. I’m here after all.” He said. 

She rolled her eyes, fighting down her smile as she finished off her sandwich. Using the back of her hand to wipe off the crumbs from the corner of her lips. 

“You know, not everything is about you.” She told him, taking a sip from her juice. 

Gojo held a hand to his chest, gasping dramatically with mock hurt. 

“So mean!” He whined, “And here I thought we were having a nice time.”

She giggled at his antics, setting down her drink and leaning back on her arms– matching Gojos posture. He smiled to himself, the sound of her gentle giggles like music to his ears. Somehow he made it a mission to himself to always draw that sound from her. Whether it was because he just wanted to make her laugh, or maybe he just adored the sound so much. The way her eyes would crinkle– her smile contagious as he always found himself mirroring her. 

“We are having a nice time, just making sure I keep you in check.” She told him, glancing over at his smug expression. 

He tilted his head curiously. 

“Keeping me in check huh?” He wondered with an amused tone. 

She nodded her head as if what she was implying was so obvious. 

“Yup. Gotta keep you humble.” She told him. 

It was his turn to laugh, the hearty sound echoing in the distance as he fell all the way back– hands clutching his stomach. Moon couldn’t help herself from laughing at the sight. 

“Nines you kill me! You know that?” He managed to get out. 

“Ah see, already showing me how humble you really are. Admitting that I can kill you– because you’re so right.” She stated proudly. 

This had his laughs dying down, the dominance shifting from his aura to somewhere in between the two of them. Although it wasn’t fear he felt, not even a threatening feeling– he felt challenged if anything. If he was anything, it was arrogant for knowing he truly was the strongest. 

“Is that so?” He asked, sitting up and scooting closer to you. 

She watched him scoot closer, not thinking twice about the action. 

“Mhmm.” She hummed, running a hand through her hair. 

“You think you can kill me?” He asked her, his eyes focused on hers.

She leaned closer this time, getting inches from his face as she held his gaze confidently– no faltering. Gojo held his breath, letting his eyes dart from one to the other– her hazel ones capturing him in a trance. Her eyes always were unique to him– the inside always looking like a blooming flower or some beautiful explosion. He could sit and stare all day– depicting where the green stopped and where the yellow started, morphing into a gorgeous dark blue. 

“You know I could.” She whispered. 

Maybe he should have felt threatened. Maybe he should have felt the frustration that someone challenged him of his all powerful role. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He admired her power, because he knew full well that she was. He respected her strength, the abilities she possessed. She was magnificent, and he was truly captivated by her. He didn’t know if it was the power that first pulled him towards her– excited to meet someone that could keep up with him. All he knew is that he wanted to be around her– know her. He didn’t want to live a life without her involved in it. 

He’d never felt such a pull towards anyone in his life– therefore why he wanted to stick around. 

He felt himself getting lost in the moment, his eyes glancing down to her lips– watching her tongue wet the pair. The pink, plump flesh trapped him in his stare. The only thought swirling through his mind was how badly he wanted a taste. 

Moon saw the way his gaze traveled down to her mouth, the sudden realization of what he was thinking hitting her. She always had that weary thought in the back of her mind, but she never believed it would be true. If only she could have the true strength to submit herself to her own desires– but she didn’t. She already let herself slip up by letting a mere friendship bloom between her and the white haired sorcerer. But now in this moment, physically seeing the emotion speak within his eyes as they traveled back up to hers– she knew she had to stop. 

She’d never let anyone get close to her… again. 

She leaned back and turned her head back in front of her, facing away from Gojo completely. The sudden movement pulled him out of his trance, leaving him to attempt to mask the hurt he felt from the rejection. Even if it wasn’t spoken– he knew. Although he ignored his own feelings when he noticed the far away look she suddenly sported in her eyes. 

“Moon?” He tried. 

She took a deep breath, willing herself enough strength to walk away. Learn to stick true to her word and stay away from people. She knew it was unfair to him, but she couldn’t feel that pain again– the same pain that never left. After all these years, the wound still bled– and she never had the power to stop it. 

“I gotta… I’m gonna go–” She rushed out, gathering her things.

“Hey, hey, what's the rush?” He asked, sitting up straighter. 

Uncomfortable with the sudden shift in the mood. 

“I just… I just remembered I have to meet with Yag–” 

He furrowed his brows at her rushed movements, the way her hands slightly shook when trying to zip up her bag. He couldn’t help the worry bubble within him. 

“Did I do something?” He voiced out loud, wondering if he was the cause for her sudden distress. 

Her chest twinged with pain, her guilt doubling at the thought that he was already trying to blame himself. Her lips twitched with the urge to tell him otherwise– to scream out to him what she really felt. But she couldn’t, and would never. 

She faced him, trying to keep her face neutral.

“Not at all, just forgot I had something to do.” She explained casually, and hoped he bought her lie. “Gotta go, see ya.” 

Without another glance towards his beaten down expression, she hurried off to the steps of the school– making her way towards her room. She needed to be alone right now– she needed to think. 

Although she had thought she lied well to him, she didn’t realize that while she looked at him– he could see the pain written in her expression. 

He was left sitting under the tree by himself, letting himself get lost in his thoughts. All at the same time, feeling hurt and concerned. 

(Present)

His feet carried him towards the school stairs, and he gladly took a seat– letting himself come back to reality after the memory. 

It wouldn’t have been such a painful memory if things hadn’t changed drastically after that. She had isolated herself almost completely from him, everyone even. She didn’t talk as much as she did– although she was never that talkative to begin with. She kept her distance– staying calculated about the time of interactions. Gojo was the first to bring it to his friends' attention. Shoko and Geto barely saw it as an issue at first. 

She’s just going through something. Maybe she needs her space. They both told him.

For a while, he supposed he believed them. Perhaps that was easier than thinking it was something he did. If he scared her off or if, she truly didn’t feel the same way he did. The rejection was harder to accept, so he stuck with believing you just needed time. 

Now almost over a year has passed, and you still keep yourself far from everyone– from him. 

“With how hard you’re thinking, you’re gonna end up hurting yourself.” A smooth voice called out from behind him. 

Gojo already knew it was his dear friend Geto, making his way down the stairs. 

“I ain’t thinking that hard.” Gojo mumbled into his palm that he rested his head on. 

“I can practically hear it.” Geto joked, earning a chuckle from the white haired sorcerer.

His laughed died down, going back to staring aimlessly at the stairs that descended in front of him. The long haired sorcerer gazed with watchful eyes at his friend, curious as to what was bothering him so.

“Yaga’s been hinting at a big mission soon. I’m curious if that’s what got you so preoccupied.” Geto wondered.

Gojo had heard the same whispers of the same mission, but it definitely wasn’t what he was stuck in his head about.

“Nah. It’s Moon.” Gojo admitted, knowing when it came to Geto— he wouldn’t judge.

He was his best friend for a reason. Always able to calm him down when he felt slightly out of control.

Geto hummed and ran a hand through his hair, fixing some strands that fell out of place from the light breeze.

“Did something happen?” He asked his friend.

Gojo sighed, and glanced towards Geto with a disappointed expression— not directed at him of course.

“Did she tell you what happened on her mission?” He wondered. 

Geto shook his head with a chuckle.

“Do you think she would? Doesn’t seem like her style to come to me and vent.” He pointed out, although he wished she would. 

Geto cared for her, and knowing something was bothering her– it bothered him. He felt useless sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the day she’d finally express herself. When would that be?

Gojo scoffed, knowing he had a point– but disappointed nevertheless. 

Geto saw the worry etched into his friends features, and grew serious all of a sudden. 

“What happened?” He asked, despite not wanting to know the answer. 

“She lost a life.” Gojo whispered, his eyes dropping back down to the stairs. 

Geto felt his stomach knot up slightly, concern for Moon growing more intense by the second. He knew a great amount about the 9 Lives technique– knowing how traumatic and difficult that was to possess, to experience. Knowing she had gone through it, all alone. It made him feel sick. 

Gojo lifted his gaze back up to his long haired friend, the silence making him wonder where his thoughts were. By the look on his face– he almost knew what he was thinking. 

“Oh Miss Dair…” Geto trailed off, frustrated that you didn’t come to him– or anyone for that matter. This was serious and you were trying to isolate yourself. “Does Yaga know?”

Geto glanced to his friend, watching the white haired sorcerer shake his head. A part of Geto wanted to tell Yaga, not to get you in trouble– but to bring awareness to your odd behavior. 

“He should know about this.” Geto stated, irritation lacing his tone. 

“She wouldn’t want that, you know. She’d be furious with us if we told him.” Gojo told him. 

Geto scoffed, shaking his head this time.

“She already acts indifferent with us– would it really matter?” Geto questioned, genuinely offended, how Moon treats them. 

Gojo again couldn’t argue, knowing Geto had a point.

“I hope she’s okay.” Geto suddenly softens, his worry overcoming his frustration. “Losing a life is like losing a piece of your soul, I can’t imagine what she had to go through.”

Gojo perked up at that information, swallowing with difficulty through his tight throat. A thought suddenly popped into his head, and despite him truly not wanting to know the answer— he found himself asking.

“What happens when she only has one life left,” He whispered into the air, glancing over to Geto’s unfocused expression. “Will she be… herself?”

He watched closely, narrowing his eyes when he saw the long haired sorcerers eyebrows twitch. The silence was killing him, although it had only been a mere few seconds of it.

“I don’t want to lie to you, my friend. Though I am not positive what will be the outcome, I doubt she will be the Moon we know now.” He admitted solemnly.

Gojo tensed from his words, running a hand through his white locks. It was all theories— he knew that. But it didn’t calm him from his anxious thoughts. How much longer did he have to live his life being concerned to death for his friend. It was exhausting— yet completely out of his control.

“Don’t let my words alarm you Satoru,” Geto placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort, “This is Miss Dair we’re talking about. She’s a strong one.”

The white haired sorcerer nodded, but couldn’t find the relief that his words meant to bring.

“We all have an ending, and she won’t be meeting hers any sooner than she’s meant to.” Geto assured him.

Gojo wanted to ask how he could possibly know that— but couldn’t bring himself to.

Geto gave his friend’s shoulder a squeeze before standing up— brushing off his robes.

“You should get some rest. Our lives are about to get much busier.” Geto suggested.

Gojo knew he was right— again. The sorcerer life wasn’t one of relaxation. He knew all too soon there would be a mission to keep them occupied.

“Now— get some rest.” Geto called out as he walked away.

Leaving Gojo alone on the stairs, still stuck in his head. He needed to push all these worries away for now— there were bigger things at hand. He needed to focus.

Not too far from the school stairs, Moon stood in front of her bathroom mirror– staring intensely at her reflection. She couldn’t figure out what bothered her so much about what she saw– although there was indeed something. An evident change in her appearance– 

No… I look the same… yeah. She argued with herself. 

She gripped the edges of the sink, leaning closer to her reflection’s tip of her nose. It wasn’t until she focused harder on her eyes, when she finally recognized the unfamiliar haunted look in her gaze. 

With a frustrated huff, she pushed off of the white porcelain– stumbling backwards from her reflection and into the door with a thump. Her chest started rising and falling faster– her breathing erratic as she felt herself losing control. 

Her eyes squeezed shut as a violent image from her most recent fight came flashing. The destruction, the loud screech from the monster as it ruptured her ear drums. Last of all, the indescribable feeling of death. The anxiety when your senses start to dull. The last thing she faintly heard was the struggling pounding of her weak heart– attempting to keep her awake for a few more seconds. It was all too much.

The thought came and went like a fleeting shadow, but nonetheless it appeared. 

Sometimes I wish I could’ve stayed dead. 

Her hands gripped her hair, pulling and squeezing as she shook herself out of the images, the memories of what she had gone through. It would haunt her– it haunted her now as she struggled to keep sane. 

Her chaotic state had her stumbling around the bathroom, her body leaning harshly against the shelf next to her shower– causing the furniture to tip over and smash against the tub. The sound rang and echoed throughout the porcelain walls, the noise causing Moon to flinch back– stumbling back into the bathroom door. 

She was overwhelmed, feeling helpless as she couldn’t do anything but let herself succumb to the panic she was trying so desperately to fight off. She cried out as she held a shaking hand over her chest, the pain suddenly sticking out to her. Her lungs felt constricted, like someone was squeezing the air out. 

The pounding intensified in her head, causing her to miss the knocking coming from her main door. 

Geto stood patiently outside of her door. He just needed to see for his own eyes that she was okay before he let himself fall asleep. The talk from earlier– the reveal that she lost a life. He needed to check on his friend for himself. 

After waiting another minute, he started to wonder if she had fallen asleep. Disappointed that he wouldn’t get to see her, he started to walk away– making it a goal first thing tomorrow to see her. 

Before he could take his first step to leave, he heard the faintest cry coming from her room. He furrowed his brows in confusion and leaned his ear closer to the wood– listening again for something. 

Perhaps he’d heard something that wasn’t actually the–

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard another cry, louder this time. Immediately he grew tense and knocked again– more urgent this time. 

“Moon? It’s Geto, I heard something in there. Everything okay?” He called out, listening again when he didn’t hear her answer. 

Although he could hear lots of noises, and what had sounded like whimpers– her whimpers. Her broken sounds panicked Geto– making him wonder if you were hurt. 

Geto sent a hurried text to his friend, not even a second later– the white haired sorcerer was appearing before him. 

“What’s going on?” Gojo asked, his voice stern and serious. 

“I heard distressing sounds coming from inside, but she wouldn’t answer me when I called for her. I’ve been knocking for a bit, and she won’t answer.” Geto rushed out, worried deeply for his friend. 

Gojo thought quickly and mumbled under his breath before placing his hand on Geto’s shoulder.

“She’s gonna hate me for this.” 

Before Geto could ask, Gojo had teleported the two of them inside her room. The sounds of her whimpers louder and so clearly coming from the bathroom. The noise broke both the men, the two giving each other a look before moving towards the bathroom. 

“Moon, are you okay in there?” Geto asked, seeing as Gojo grew suddenly silent. 

The whimpers died down, the shuffling almost stopping immediately. The two men glanced at each other– trying to figure out what she was doing. Before they could talk amongst each other– the door suddenly opened. 

Moon walked out, glancing at the two standing before her in her room. 

“Yeah I uh… my stomach’s been off. Must’ve been something I ate.” She explained to them, keeping her gaze on the floor as she walked towards her couch and plopping down. 

Her episode had tired her out, and she felt ready to pass out at any moment. 

Geto was the first to study her, his eyes trailing up and down for injuries– but stayed stuck on her pale and clammy face. Her skin looked a little sickly. 

“Sorry to hear that, and sorry to barge in– we just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He explained this time. 

She waved him off, giving him a weak tired smile. 

“I appreciate it, but I’m fine.” She assured him. 

Geto wasn’t entirely convinced, but he was happy to at least see her with his own eyes. No injuries were enough to keep him relaxed for now– but he was still worried about her. Always would. 

The long haired sorcerer glanced over to Gojo, who was gazing intensely at Moon. His blue eyes exposed and studying her features, memorizing every freckle– every inch of her skin. 

Moon lifted her gaze to Gojo, swallowing nervously when she became aware of how deeply he was looking at her. It was an overwhelming sensation of feeling seen– like someone could finally see her pain written all over her body. The pain that she refused to reveal. 

Despite Gojo having so much to say, to ask– to know. He stayed silent and followed Geto as he said goodbye and left her room. 

Moon sighed in relief, a part of her grateful that they hadn’t caught her in such a state. Although the other part of her longed for them to stay– for him to stay. She wanted to tell him everything, but instead she kept telling him nothing. The way it should be.

The two sorcerers walked in silence next to each other, both too lost in their thoughts to create small talk. It was almost as if they knew they were both thinking the same thing, or at least they had the same ideas– same theories about what exactly was going on with Moon. 

Geto was the first to break the silence, after taking note of the concerned look on his friends face. 

“Satoru…” He started, but was quickly interrupted. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be focused for the mission.” He rushed out, running a hand through his white strands. 

Geto frowned and stopped walking, causing Gojo to turn and study his friends expression. 

“Let’s not shut each other out, okay? We already have that issue at hand.” He started, his tone stern but his expression soft. “I just need you to be honest with me. I’m worried about her too– so I need you to talk to me if you feel there's something wrong.”

Gojo’s eyes softened and his shoulders slumped, knowing he was right. It was easier to ignore the issues– ignorance was bliss. Although, he knew all too well that it would only be worse at the end. 

“I just want our friend back.” He whispered, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Geto let his hand rest on his friends shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze– bringing Gojo’s attention back on him. 

“Our Moon is very much there Satoru… we just have to keep being there for her.” He reassured him.

Geto wasn’t pigheaded, he knew very well that Gojo was blaming himself heavily for this whole situation. Despite it being completely out of his control– he knew Gojo well enough to know that wouldn’t matter. 

“I feel like I’m not doing enough.” He expressed, his voice weak.

Geto gave his shoulder another warm squeeze before removing his hand from him completely. 

“You are, my friend.” He promised him.

The dark haired sorcerer left in the direction of his room, leaving Gojo alone with his thoughts. But he knew there wasn’t much else he could say to comfort him. Geto knew he would just have to keep reminding him he was doing enough, until Gojo believed it himself. Meanwhile, maybe his own words would convince himself too. 

Gojo did feel comforted by his friends words, but he knew that all too well that the pit in his stomach wouldn’t stray away. 

Where’d you go Nines… Gojo thought lastly before heading to bed. 

ending notes. hmm, now we are starting to see the two different perspectives of why they aren't close anymore. poor miss moon is kinda a mess 😭 feedback is appreciated as always 🤍

[rileytwenty]

Her Price

(Geralt x OC)

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

Summary: Former brothel worker, Mary, is traveling with Geralt and Jaskier. In an attempt to contribute more to the group, she does something rash that forces a confession out of Geralt. Big angst.

TW: prostitution, rough/low-key abusive sex, bite marks/bruises/hickies left from said sex, dom! male, arguing, swearing

Mary had joined Geralt and Jaskier on their journey about a month ago. Since then, the trio had fallen into a nice rhythm. At each town they visited, Mary’s job was one she completed while the boys waited on the edge of town. First, she would go into the market and use her “charms” (breasts) to persuade the merchants to give her a discounted price for any supplies they needed.

Next up was the inn, where she would flirt her way into getting the innkeeper to give her and her “friends” a cheaper rate. Only then, once prices were negotiated low enough, would the boys come into town. This system worked without a hitch nine times out of ten.

Occasionally, the innkeep would be too upset by her friends turning out not to be a couple more pretty women –one of them was a Witcher, for fuck’s sake– and he’d kick them out. Though, this had only happened a few times, and Mary has become careful to use more vague language about her travel companions.

Geralt would go out and fulfill any contracts whilst Jaskier performed at the local inn or tavern. This is where they got their coin from.

Sometimes, Mary’s job would also include patching up Geralt after a bad run-in with a creature. She knew a fair bit about fixing injuries, seeing as her mother had been her town’s Healer growing up. Before she died, that is, and Mary was forced to join a brothel to keep off the streets.

As disgusted as people were about her profession, she didn’t mind it much. Sex never meant anything to her except for a steady income, and it was easy with most people. However, it has left her in unsafe situations at times, so she was glad to be avoiding those.

Ultimately, she was more grateful for the sense of adventure she received from traveling with the pair than she was for the opportunity to leave the brothel.

Just an hour ago, they’d arrived at a small town in Velen, and the usual plan was going swimmingly. Mary had gotten all necessary supplies with coin to spare, and had negotiated their stay at the inn for nearly half price! A new record for her. Excited to share the news, she went and retrieved Geralt and Jaskier from the outskirts of town.

“Good job! What did you do, sleep with him?” Jaskier joked, throwing an arm around her shoulders in celebration.

His statement made her slip away in a cloud of thought: did he silently want her to? Had that been his expectation all along? She could probably get the price even lower if she did sleep with the crooked-looking innkeeper. Truthfully, she didn’t do a whole lot of the heavy-lifting, and maybe this was Jaskier commending her for what he thought was her finally pulling her weight. However, she didn’t get a chance to be uncomfortable for more than a moment, because in typical Jakier fashion, he just kept talking.

“Damn, Mary. I think that’s your best bargain yet! You hear that Geralt? We have coin enough for all the ale we can drink! Mary, will you drink, too? You never do, and I find it quite strange. Of course, if you don’t want to…”

She had learned to tune out his ramblings after a week or so. He hardly ever sought a reply, and a simple humm sufficed when he did.

After tying up Roach, they finally meandered into the inn. The innkeeper merely laughed at the sight. “You’re one tricky lady, you know.”

“Oh, thank you, sir. I do try.” Mary took a small but dramatic bow.

The three of them all headed to their separate rooms to put away their belongings.

Geralt quickly headed off to fulfill a drowner contract, leaving Jaskier to make some coin downstairs.

Mary had no job left to do, and she was starting to feel useless; Jaskier’s joke had wedged itself into her thoughts.

How much did she contribute, really? Enough to not put a strain on the two? They had been awfully tired lately, the both of them.

Guilt overwhelmed her. Of course, they were too decent of men to actually ask her to sell her body, but perhaps it had been an expectation all along, or the reason they brought her along in the first place — the thought of more coin, and free inn visits. Had she been a burden, not using her skillset to provide for the group the way they did?

Geralt was always saying that he needed new armor, or supplies to upgrade what he had, but it was too far out of their price range. She considered the idea of him being able to better defend himself if only they had more money. Increased coin meant a decrease in his injuries.

Well, it was decided. She needed to start making as much coin as the other two did.

There was no brothel in this town, so no one would see her as competition if she went downstairs and did some business.

Most men in the town lived there and didn’t really travel, she had discovered through talking with a few. Some were married, but quite a few were single or waiting for a girl to reach maturity.

If they liked the young ones, she could accommodate. She knew how to look up through her lashes and act a little dumb.

After making her way around the room, swaying to Jaskier’s music, she finally spotted her target. He was looking at her almost predatorily, and his clothing quality told her he had the money she needed.

She approached, a sadness in her glossy eyes as she took a seat right beside him.

“Hello, missy.”

“Hi.” She made her voice nice and sweet and sent him a smile.

“You alright, there? Lookin’ awfully distraught.” He noted, turning in his chair to face her.

“Mm-hmm. ‘M fine.” She let a tear fall.

“Don’t give me that crap, sweetheart. Tell me the truth.” He was commanding it of her, his pupils large in satisfaction.

She sniffled. “It’s just… it’s… I don’t want to complain, I-“

“Honey, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

She stared at him with her big doe eyes before relenting.

“It’s my ma. She’s sick. I’ve been trying to make enough money for her medicine, but it’s so hard, trying to make coin in this region. I’m not strong enough to help on the farms, and I-“ She let her voice crack.

“Oh, it’s alright.” He rubbed her back, but it was awfully low to be comforting.

“I don’t know what to do.”

He paused to think while she wiped her eyes. “Well, I could help you out.”

“Really?” She shot her head up in excitement. “Thank you, I-“

“But not for free.”

Exactly as she foresaw, word for word.

“W-What do you mean? I don’t have anything to trade, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, we’ll come to an agreement, I’m sure. You have a room here?”

“Uh-huh.”

He tsked at her. “Use your words, now.” She wrote that in her brain for later, it would certainly come in handy.

“Yes. Yes, I do. The third one on the left is mine.”

“Good.” He placed his hand on her jaw in encouragement. “Let’s head up there, shall we?”

Faking her virginity had always been easy, especially when she was younger and could tell men who were passing through that it was her first day on the job. Now, she had to lie a little more complexly, but it still wasn't hard.

The man had surprising stamina, and they went for at least three hours. Long enough for Geralt to come back.

He and Jaskier shared their evening experiences as they trudged up to their rooms. The noises from down the hall stopped them both abruptly.

“Who’s in there with her?” Jaskier asked quietly.

“I don’t know. You’re the one who’s supposed to have been with her all evening!”

“I saw her flirting with quite a few of the men. However, I didn’t know she took one to bed.”

Geralt was shocked to hear this— Jask knew of his feelings for her.

His tone was piercing, “And you just let her?”

Jaskier turned to his companion with his brows raised. “Let her? She’s not a child, Geralt. She may sleep with whoever she pleases.”

“I-“

“And don’t you complain about those feelings of yours. You’ve had plenty of opportunity to express them, and you’ve been too chicken shit. These are the consequences.”

Jaskier was done with Geralt’s emotionally-constipated bullshit and slammed the door to his room.

Geralt’s hearing was superior to most, meaning that he could hear every sound escaping her lips.

So many times had he imagined those sounds, had he prayed that he’d get to hear them. Now that they rung upon his ears, he hated it.

He wanted to draw those beautiful moans out of her. Not some Velen low-life who would be too wrapped up in his own pleasure to truly care about hers.

He didn’t mean to keep listening, but he was frozen with indecision. Though, the more he did, he could hear the slight inflection in her tone that indicated the fakeness of these sounds. She was incredibly good at hiding it, but it was there.

Why was she in bed with this man if she was not enjoying herself? He had to remind himself of Jaskier’s words. If she wanted to stop it, she would.

He couldn’t take another minute of hearing their bodies collide, thus he stormed out of the inn. He couldn’t sleep next to that.

Instead, he found himself in the stables with Roach. She was giving him a look as though she knew the situation, and was judging him for it.

“Fuck off, I know.”

He couldn’t be mad at Mary, he really couldn’t. He had given her no inclination of his desire for her. She was completely unaware of the pain she was causing him. It was not her fault. The only person to blame here was himself.

He would tell her in the morning, he decided.

She would never sleep with anyone but him again. She would never feel the need to, he would make sure of that.

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

In the morning, Mary woke up sore and bruised. The man —whom she never learnt the name of, as he preferred “sir”— had been a rougher man than she’d taken him for. He liked to see her cry.

Nothing she couldn’t handle, but still draining. All in all, it was not one of her favorite nights.

However, she didn’t mind it so much after finding the large sack of coin on her nightstand, far more than she expected, and definitely enough for Geralt to buy new armor with.

She squealed in glee, dressing herself and packing up quickly. When she exited her room, Jaskier was just about to knock.

“Oh, Jask. Good morning!”

His eyes widened at the sight of her skin littered in marks. “Jesus, Mary! Did that man do that to you?”

She followed his line of vision down to her chest, arms and neck, only now noticing how bad it looked. “Oh, God. I look like the whoriest whore around.” She tugged on her coat, despite it being a humid, late-spring day.

“Doesn’t that hurt? Mary-“

“Please, Jask. This is nothing. I’ve had men do far worse. Anyway, where’s Geralt?”

Jaskier hesitated to respond, but eventually let her drop the subject.

“He left yesterday, haven’t seen him since.”

“Left? To go where?”

“Away, I’d guess. You were pretty loud last night.”

Mary scoffed. “Oh, please. I’ve seen him sleep in a roaring tavern before.”

Jaskier only shrugged, not finding anything to say that wouldn’t reveal what was Geralt’s to tell her.

She shoved past him to go find the witcher. With Jaskier in tow, she stepped outside. Where would he have gone? Not far, likely.

“Geralt?” She called.

It took him a minute to get to his feet, but he soon emerged from the stables.

“Mary, I have something to tell you-“

“No, Geralt, you listen! We spent coin on that room, and you decided not to sleep in it because of a little noise next door? I doubt it’s something you’ve never heard before, and now you’re going to be complaining about your back for days. Seriously, you couldn’t just cover your head with a pillow?”

He was astounded. “It… wasn’t the noise keeping me awake.”

“Whatever, it hardly matters now.” She was determined to get back on track with her joy. “Here,” she thrust the sack of money at him, “When I was out yesterday, I saw an armorer by the market. I stopped in to see if anything was cheap, and they had the supplies to upgrade your Griffin armor. Expensive, of course, but not a problem now! Or you could wait until the next town, see what they have. Up to you.”

Both Jaskier and Geralt were puzzled, but then in a moment it clicked.

“Mary… where did you get that?” Jaskier was walking on eggshells with the tension floating around.

She was growing offended by the expression they both wore and she scoffed. “I’ll give you one guess.”

No guesses were needed. They knew.

Geralt spoke. “Look, you’re welcome to sleep with whomever you please. It’s just-“ He was struggling, he always had trouble expressing things like this, “I want to be the only man in bed with you.”

Mary blinked. Once, twice. “What?”

He couldn’t look her in the eye. “I should have said something before. I lacked the courage, and that’s on me. If you don’t feel the same-“

“I do. Feel the same.” He didn't mind her interrupting this time.

“You do?”

“Mm-hmm.” She was smiling so widely she was at risk of her face cracking open.

Officially breaching a grin, he pulled her to him by the hips.

Cupping his face, she brought his lips down to hers. She was so indescribably happy to be held by him that she smiled through the kiss.

His arms roamed up her sides and back, and as his hand slid across a bite mark on her shoulder blade, she flinched.

Geralt pulled away, looking into her eyes for answers.

“It’s fine, sorry.” She dismissed, leaning in to return to the kiss, though he didn't allow it.

A glance at Jaskier’s concerned face confirmed to him that she was injured. “Mary, are you hurt?” He moved to take her coat off to get a better look, but she stepped back.

“It’s alright, nothing that won’t heal up in a few days.”

He looked to Jaskier, as Mary was clearly not going to discuss it.

“Jaskier, don’t you say a fucking word. It’s none of his business. None of yours, either.”

Geralt only had to glare at Jaskier for him to crack and jump behind the witcher. “Sorry, Mary, but he scares me more. When I walked into her room this morning I saw that she was covered with… marks, of all kinds, from her… erm, nighttime activities.”

“Marks? From- Mary, did he do something to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t agree to. The cruel ones are rare, but they always pay the best. Worth it, I’d say.”

Geralt shut his eyes for a moment, willing his feelings down. “Show me.”

She didn’t want to, for worry that he would think differently of her. “Why, so you can humiliate me? Call me a whore?”

“No. I just want to see.”

Sighing, she pulled off her coat. He was going to think of her what he was going to think of her. What everyone thinks of her.

Geralt was transfixed with every spot on her skin. Bruises in the shapes of hands, crescent shaped indents from fingernails, scrapes, teeth imprints. He gently grazed his hands over them.

“Why would you let him do this?” He was full of sorrow. She had allowed someone to hurt her, “For what? Coin? We had plenty.”

“I suppose it was foolish. I felt like I had to contribute something, to earn us money the way you two do, but sex is my only skill.”

“Mary.” So much emotion pushed into one word. Defeat, mostly. He’d failed to make her feel taken care of.

Geralt was too overcome with emotion, so Jaskier took over the speaking. “I wish you’d have spoken to one of us. We’re doing fine, you didn’t need to do this to yourself. You’re contributing perfectly well, getting us those bargains at the markets and inns. Saving coin is just as good as making it.”

Geralt’s eyes were still staring into space, but he spoke. “I’m so sorry, that you thought you had to accept that man’s abuse for money. In future, I’ll take more contracts.“

“No! No. The whole point of me wanting to buy that armor was that I wanted you as safe as possible. Which, with you being a witcher and all, I know isn’t much, but armor is crucial to your fighting style. Better armor means less injuries for you.”

“That’s not something you should be concerned about. Promise me, you’ll never let this happen to you again.”

She looked into his eyes, which still couldn’t focus on her, and saw the pain. The regret, the guilt.

“Okay, I promise.” She grabbed his hands in hers, drawing his attention back to her. “The only hands on me from now on will be yours.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lightly so as to not disturb her bruises. She looped hers around his neck.

Geralt was still distraught. “You won’t regret it, I swear.”

She wanted to lighten the mood. “Oh, you’re that good, huh?”

Geralt let her cheer him up. “Being a witcher does have its perks.”

[amber-sekio]

Oneshot -Killing Butterflies

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Ships: Aether x reader ; Childe x reader ; Childe x Zhongli

TW: Aether x reader ; reader x Tartaglia ; Tartaglia x Zhongli (if you squint) ; Major angst ; character death ; hurt no comfort ; Aether loves reader, reader loves Tartaglia, Tartaglia loves Zhongli ; reader dies ; implied death ; gn reader-no gender is given to reader

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This is a whole bucket full of angst so have fun lol. Also, for context i would recommend reading this post of mine. Anyways enjoy reading! (*^▽^*)

Aether couldn't bear to see you like this. To watch you through yourself at him when he no longer loved you. It was pitiful really. How you begged for him to stay. You were attached to him while he moved on. Tartaglia didn't hate you, he simply didn't love you anymore. Tartaglia moved on and fell in love with someone else; his best friend. You couldn't do anything about it but simply accept what had happened. Though you could never move on from him as he had done.  

And so Aether watched as you fell deeper into despair. He tried to lift you up, to show you how much you were loved and that you didn't need Tartaglia to feel loved, that there was someone else who loved you dearly. You were too blinded by your sorrow to notice how Aether thought of you.  

As much as Aether wanted to do more for you he couldn't and so he let himself be a shoulder to cry on for you. Hoping. Praying. That one day you would see how much he cared for you. 

You had been going to Aether nearly every day for about a week just to cry. He was your dearest friend after all.  Until one day you stopped.  

Aether thought you simply needed a bit of space to get over your heartache.  

That was a week ago though. 

It had been two weeks since he last saw you, and he was getting worried.  

He stood outside your home, knocked, telling you it was only him and that he was worried because he hadn't saw you in two weeks. 

Silence 

He knocked again. 

Nothing 

He wasn't fond of entering without your permission but he had to make sure you were alright. He needed to make sure. 

He went to open the door to find it was unlocked already, though it wasn't uncommon for you, it seemed to unnerve him for some reason. Your home was dark, the curtains were all closed and no light was on. The lack of light only made him worry more. You always had light in your home whether from open curtains or candles lit at night so for your house to be so dark in the middle of the day was worrisome. He walked around your house looking for you until he came to your room. 

The door was closed and at first it seemed deadly silent from within your room as it was in the rest of your house. He stood there silently until he heard what sounded like a sob come from within your room. He opened the door to find you curled in on yourself in the corner of the room on your bed.  

"Y/n are you-" 

However you were surrounded by butterflies. 

Red butterflies. 

Blood Red butterflies 

"Aether?" 

He knew what was happening. He had seen this before. A friend from another world had died the exact same way, but he hadn't heard of it happening on Teyvat. He didn’t think it was possible here. He didn't want to believe it.  

"How long has this been going on for y/n?" Aether inquired while walking over to your side. 

"A-about two weeks now," you paused, taking a breath. "Aether do you know what's wrong with me?" 

The look in Aether's eyes told you the answer to your question. It hurt Aether to see you like this, to hear you sound broken. It seemed that at the very least the disease wasn't well known in Teyvat if at all. 

You didn't have much longer. It was obvious with how pale you were and the number of butterflies around you. Most people barely survived a month with the disease. Typically the victim died within three to four weeks of obtaining it. So it was easy to tell you would be dead soon. 

He stayed by your side, tending to you as you slowly grew weaker and couldn't perform simple tasks let alone even walk. The only time he left your side was to inform Tartaglia of your condition and what was going to happen as well as ask Albedo if he knew anything of the disease. 

Aether was told that while it did exist in Teyvat, it was extremely rare. 

The moment Aether got back he was immediately by your side again. 

You died in his arms five days later. 

He laid you down on your bed as the butterflies landed on and around you to rest peacefully alongside with you.  

Aether sat on the ground next to your bed, closing his eyes only to start coughing. He looked at his hand only to be met with flowers. 

Red flowers. 

Blood Red flowers. 

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I've come to realize that while I'm not the biggest fan of reading angst, I sure do love writing it.

[screams-in-writing]

:)

Mind the tags; I wanted to write the worst possible outcome I could think of for Puzzles in wotfi (and tossed the reader in for extra angst), so that I’d be all right with whatever does happen to Mr. Puzzles in wotfi.

Never Enough - Labradorite (Absent_Enigma) - SMG4 (Web Series) [Archive of Our Own]

And if you want to read it here, then here it is, in all it’s terrible, depressing glory w/tags/warnings from ao3 (around ~6500 words)

Also, 1st/2nd person pov, I only rated it M for the situation/some descriptors. Wasn’t sure if I was okay for a T rating

Note: Be forewarned that if you like Mr. Puzzles, this will probably be upsetting.

-

How could things have gone so wrong?

My beautiful Puzzle Park was-

A thud sounded on the metal doors of the engine room.

I slumped wearily, already drained from the earlier fight, and not any closer to pulling myself together enough to attempt a repeat performance. Even my neck was strained, the wires of my neck painfully wrapped around what remained of my original neck, the cervical vertebra under heavy strain with the weight of my metal head. I might have been mistaken, but I could have sworn I felt blood trickling down, tacky against the metal, skin and what little bone was exposed. 

That wasn't a good sign.

I was losing control.

It wouldn't be too long before I would no longer be able to keep my metal head upright.  I wouldn't be able to prevent my body from falling to the floor below, once the final wires connecting myself to the engine room snapped from all the damage that had been done earlier.

One of the doors to the room finally creaked open.

I fully expected to see Smg4 and the others come through the doors to confront me to one last time to end this all, but the one who came through…

My breath, facsimile though it was, caught, lodging painfully where it would have been had I still a throat.

“My dear…how did you? No, you shouldn’t be here.” My screen quickly swapped from the crazed, manic grin to a pained, distressed expression. “You weren’t meant to see me like this…” The engine room was alive all around me, the machinery running as it ought to, connected to yours truly to really make this place come alive.

For as long as that time remained.

I wasn’t sure if I expected an answered from you or not.  A part of me was happy to see that, even from as high up as I was, you only seemed to have eyes for me, (and my unsightly appearance).  There was something going on outside in the park, but I didn’t divert my attention away from you, my hands clasping and holding tight to the wall and ledge on either side of me. The way I was now, I was so much larger than you. Anything I did now, any move I made, might cause this room to shudder, and I didn’t want to cause any harm to you.

“Why?”

I nearly didn’t hear your voice; it was so quiet, distraught. Shifting restlessly amongst the wires I willingly attached to myself, and the anchors of it that now held me precariously in place, I didn’t know what to say. I just turned my metal head slightly to be able to stare at you in return.

A moment passed.

Then another.

Shakily, I lowered one of my arms, grimacing at the eyes that twitched and roved along my arm, as well as the metal of my forearm that showed through.

I was a mess.

I’d been so blinded by the opportunity practically gift-wrapped to me, and so desperate to prove I could do...no, accomplish, the things I was told I couldn’t. To attach myself to the most important place in the park, to make myself important like I never was before…

It all was crumbling before me.

I thought you might have turned to leave, or at least moved away from my outstretched hand that I held out, palm up.

It seemed like an eternity passed.

Then, you stepped onto my hand and held on as I lifted you up to be level with my screen, close enough that you could touch me, if you even wanted to after everything. My frame shivered involuntarily the moment I felt your hand trace along the underside of my casing, then raising to linger just beneath the lowest dial, resting heavily there for a moment.  Then, the light touch moved to the bottom front of my screen, and I could sense the way your fingers tips settle there for a brief moment, before pulling away.

My screen flickered between a closed eyed expression to an open-eyed, accepting one.

This was a goodbye, wasn’t it?

There was no coming back from this.

There wasn’t anything that I could say to make this better; I couldn’t take back all that had happened, no matter how much I wanted to.

“You should go, before this place is no more.” I said, not lowering my hand since you hadn’t yet indicated you wanted me to do so.  “I will…stay behind. I can’t change what had been put into motion.” I flexed my other arm. “What I did to myself.”

“Weren’t you happy, with what you had? A job that you said you liked.  The chance to try and make up for what happened with Smg4 and the others?” You asked, having trouble keeping the upset tone out of your voice. “You were able to live in two different worlds, Puzzles, however you wanted, whenever you pleased.  Your shows were starting to pick up some traction, after the whole...Puzzlebox thing."  Your voice dropped to a bare whisper, one of your hands trembling as you placed it on my casing again.  "I thought...having all of that would be able to make anyone content."  A pause, as your hand curled against my metal head.  "Weren’t you happy, with me?” 

“I-of course I was happy, being with you…” I wouldn’t lie about that, never, but I was unable to lie about the rest. “I wasn’t happy with my myself. I wanted to have more; to finally prove to both me and my father that I could run an amusement park. To prove to Smg4 that I could entertain people just like he could; that my shows would be just as popular, if not more, than his!” Screen flickering, I could sense that something isn’t right. It was the end, it seemed, for me, and my voice to a hitching, desperate tone. “I just wanted to entertain people, and to see them have fun at an amusement park under my management. To show that I did have ‘creative vision.” I felt you tap the edge of my screen, only to realize that it was you leaning up against my face to press a kiss there.

A sharp, painful twang shot through my half-organic heart.

“I guess...it wasn't enough for you, was it?” Your voice was quiet. "I wasn't enough."  

“You were." I brought my other hand over, but hesitated, almost expecting a rejection. Finding none, I lightly traced the back of my hand along the side of your head, pulling nonsense off in the engine room to make my hand its original size, just for a little while.  When you turn my hand over, I gently slide my fingers along hair before I gently cupped your cheek to stare down at you, shivering a little when you rested your hand over mine.  "My own ambitions got in my way; it was nothing that you did, or said to me, at all, that made me choose to do this to myself.” I felt a twist in my gut, a selfish part of me tempted to keep you there with me a little while longer, even as you moved my hand away from you with a light pat to it.  A short hesitation, before I slowly lowered my hand to the floor, careful to not drop you until you could slide off from my palm to the floor. “Please go, my dear, before this room ends up being destroyed."  My expression flickered between several digital faces, but I couldn't choose one, so it reverted to the grief-stricken one from before.  "I don’t want you to be hurt in the fallout that will come due to the decisions I've made.”

“I already have been.”

I couldn’t deny this, as I knew that you meant emotionally. We'd had something, a closeness that I'd never been able to have with another person before.  Someone who would listen to my grandiose plans and yet feel comfortable enough around me to see what had become of my body once I'd made the decision to get into television. I'd had you, as you'd had me in return; first as a reluctant acquaintance, then a friendship, and finally, a tentative relationship.

It was ruined now.

"We both have."

Bowing my head, I said nothing in return, even though a part of me didn’t want you to leave.  Not without me being able to say that I did, without question, love you. Even after what I've done this time around, I loved you, and didn't want you to come here, on the off chance I failed.  I didn't want you to be harmed. I didn’t know too well what to do about the feeling, the caring aspect of it, as it was...difficult for me, but I knew it was true.  I knew that if were to say that I loved you now, genuine as it would be...the admission would only make leaving more difficult, and painful, for you.

So, I kept it to myself.

The unspoken confession choked me into silence, twisting me up on the inside terribly.  But I did so, in an attempt to protect you from further anguish, even if it increased my own. If you knew me as well as I hoped you did by this time, there might be some part of you that knew how I felt, even if this mess I’d gotten into of my own volition had broken whatever relationship we’d had before into unrepairable pieces.

“Goodbye, Mr. Puzzles.”  Your breath caught on a hitching breath, as if saying it aloud was too much, too final. 

The acknowledged resignation, of knowing that we would never see one another again after you left this room.

But before I could say or do anything in return, you were already running for the still-open doors. I whispered your name anyway, a similar farewell following. As you vanished from view, I closed the digital eyes on my screen again, the sorrow and regret gripping me. And then, I became aware of something else, once I could no longer hear your retreating footsteps.

Puzzle Park was being ruined, from the outside.

I could pick up a spike in temperature, right before Smg4 and the rest of the group I'd lured here showed up in the engine room, all of them fired up for round 2.

If that was what they wanted of me, then a round 2 performance of a lifetime they would get.

I went through the motions, as it was all I could do. 

Despite the choices I made, there was a part of me within that didn't want to give up, even if I knew anything that I did right now was futile, with the state I was in.  And with your departure, and the clarity I was beginning to have return to me as everything fell apart around me...

I didn't put my all into the 'fight' and made several foolish mistakes.

Everything became a confusing blur.

Attacks were launched at me from all sides, many of which severed the wires attached to my body and the surrounding room.

The engine room caught fire.

A final attack finished snapping away the wires connected to what remained of my body, and I pitched forward, flailing. By sheer luck, I collapsed half in and half out  of the middle of the room where a hole was.

Everything hurt. 

I laboriously dragged myself forward a few feet before I ended up losing all of my strength.  With a pathetic static sputtering from my metal head, I went inert apart from a twitch here and there as the robotic parts of my body began to react to the loss of such a massive amount of energy.  Laying there, chest heaving with breaths I didn't truly need, I waited whatever Smg4 and the others decided to do with me; it wasn't like I could defend myself now in this state.  Even in the bigger size that I was, it meant nothing if I could barely move to make that be of any use. But when too much time passed without words being spoken, I realized that I was all alone in the room. Gingerly, yet painfully, I shifted my body enough to lift my metal head to see what was going on.

There was no one there.

Alone.

I was...alone.

Letting out a hysterical little laugh, I let it go on for a time before the laugh trickled off into a disbelieving yet accepting hitching sobs.

I was all alone again.

Smg4, Smg3, all of them...they'd deemed me as a non-threat, and with Puzzle Park falling apart and burning down, left me to my fate, whatever it may be.

It didn't take many guesses to know what that fate would eventually become.

A great sadness filled me, over the way I had been so causally dismissed.

The despair grew, over the thought that I was worth nothing to anyone at all and therefore, was not worth saving.

I became acutely aware of the fire in the engine room, as it slowly began to grow to unbearable temperatures.  Unfortunately, my mechanical arms were too broken to drag myself away from the slowly encroaching flames licking and dancing toward me, as if it had all the time in the world to reach me. But I did have enough motion to slowly twitch a hand up to clumsily tug my bowtie free.  The bowtie that was beneath the larger pulled loose and I clung to it. You’d given it to me as a gift, and I’d kept it, even as I knew that what I’d done was something you wouldn't be able to forgive me for. Or, you might have broken off our relationship, had I been able to escape this.

...was there a chance that I could I fix this?

If I had one last chance, would I be able to turn this around?

To make up for everything that had gone wrong, everything that I had subjected the others to, yet refused or was unable to see caused so much suffering?

”Please…” I could barely recognize my own voice from the desperation and fear that choked me as my situation sank in further and further. “Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll go away, far away. I’ll go back to that parallel world, and never come back. I’d even go back to the meme factory, until my body falls apart there.”

Please.

Please, don’t let me die like this, helpless and barely able to move, my robotic limbs only at minimal functioning as the mechanics began to slowly overheat.

Small explosions began to rock the engine room.

The grief built on itself while I uselessly clawed at the floor with nerveless mechanical fingers.

It wouldn’t be long now.

This…

My hands slowed their frantic motion as something occurred to me.

This was what I deserved, wasn’t it?

No one thought I could change, so why would anyone bother with me? I had proven time and again that I wasn’t to be trusted, and that I would do anything it took to achieve my goals.

And now…

Now, this ruined park burning down around me, and it was the last thing I’d see.

It was too much to ask to be spared this, wasn’t it? It was too much to ask to be forgiven, when I’d already had a second chance to make peace with Smg4 and his crew. One that I had foolishly squandered to seize on a chance I ever thought I’d ever have.

My face flickered to a face of abject misery, tears appearing to flow down my screen; tears I’d never be able to properly shed.

This was the worst I’d ever felt, leagues worse than when I stooped to making that horrible slop in those Puzzlebox shows.

This was me at my lowest, with no way out.

No one was here to save me from myself.

No one was here to lift me out from the deep hole I'd unwittingly been digging myself into with each choice I made.

I, who’d actually begun to experience more than what I’d ever had before.

I'd had an actual relationship, and the tentative beginnings of friendships.

Gone.

It was all gone now.

And the worst thing about those losses?

It was entirely my fault.

If I’d made different choices before this point, then there was a chance that I would still have that relationship, and those possible friendships.

A muted, broken sob emitted from my speakers, my body shuddering in response to the soul-crushing realization.

Even if I hadn’t had it ‘all’, I’d lost what I’d gained in the first place to try to seize it, and I would never recover it. A tight squeezing sensation gripped within my chest, before it dissipated as I lie there miserably (and pathetically) grieving over what I had lost. 

What I could have avoided losing.

This might have continued on, this self-loathing, this self-reflection, until the flames from the explosions from before started to claim me.  But I was distracted by the faint noise of footfall that made me stop stewing in the misery of my mistakes, falling silent in confusion.

A squeaky gasp sounded, along with the pattering steps of someone swiftly approaching.

It couldn’t be…

Why?

Why was she still here?

Why hadn’t she left, during the chaos of the fighting before?

Orange hair and brown boots filled my vision until Leggy moved a little back for me to see her properly. She'd lost the top hat at some point, though the little red bowtie remained. Leggy wore a worried expression as she shifted from foot to foot, staring at me.

”You’re still here.” I stated the obvious, softly and a little incredulously.

Leggy let out a trilling noise of agreement in response.

I thought this little Leggy, who'd taken to following me around during my…unfortunate working stint in the meme factory (following Meggy returning back to normal) had long since left the park.  Surely even Leggy could see that this place was collapsing in on itself.

“You shouldn’t be here.” My voice was beginning to fail me as the heat in the engine room increased. “You need to get out, before the fire blocks the exits.”

Leggy stubbornly butted her head into the side of my head before making a frustrated noise at my inaction.  Then, with a puff of her cheeks into a determined expression, Leggy bit down onto what was left of the sleeve over one of my wrists and attempted to drag me across the floor by my (currently much larger than her) hand.

"Stop." I eventually said, after allowing Leggy to see how futile an endeavor she was attempting.  That I wouldn't be going anywhere.  I twitched the hand she was biting.  "It's no use. There’s no saving me from this, so please…just leave."

Leggy gave a stubborn shake of her head, sniffling and tearing up as she continued to attempt to drag me along the floor.

The heat was near-unbearable, so I could only imagine how poorly Leggy was faring.  

I was able to find some little strength in my body to lift my hand.  As soon as Leggy reluctantly let go of it, I rested it partially on top of her head the side (practically engulfing Leggy entirely due to my continued larger size), when she ended up leaning into the touch.

Leggy let out a happy croon and wiggled happily in place.

“Please.” I murmured, but trailed off, unable to continue, as the smoke was beginning to become trapped in the engine room and threatening to enter my vents. If there was any one thing I could correct, it was for me to give Leggy a chance to get out, without repercussions, for working with me to trick the others.

An idea came to mind, and as I moved my hand away, I softly asked Leggy if she remembered you.

The exited little dance was answer enough.

“Then don’t make it two of us becoming lost to this fire.” I managed to lean my head down and with a little flick of my finger, skillfully removed my bowler hat. By the time I gently set it onto Leggy’s head, the hat was the normal size it had once been. 

Tears trailed down Leggy's face but continued to refuse to leave.

“Leggy…” I managed to find enough strength within my broken metal arm to gently lift her up before she could stubbornly 'sit' down.  I gingerly lifted her up to the nearest hole in the wall, the farthest away from the encroaching fire I could reach.  "Save yourself."

Leggy squirmed in grasp and bit my metal hand, but without much force behind it.

“I know.” My arm shook with the effort to keep it up without the aid of the wires from before. “But I don’t want to lose you too. You’ve…been a very good friend to me, even if I wasn’t to you, in the end.” I gently opened my hand and slid Leggy onto a broken metal ledge that hadn't heated with the fire yet. It would lead through a vent to the outside. 

“Puzzles…friend.” Leggy leaned into my trembling hand, for one last version of her hug to me. “Remember…friend. Remember good Puzzles.”

”You do that, little one.” I lowered my hand back to the ground. “Goodbye, Leggy.”

”Bye, Puzzles.” Leggy sniffed out through more tears before she disappeared from my view.

Settling my metal head to the ground, I left out a low discomforted groan. I was unable to shut off the screen, nor could I lower or raise the volume of my voice due to the broken dials. I stared at the torn-up floor under me, then resignedly made myself look to the burning fire that slowly approached me.

Alone.

I was alone.

Again.

But I’d at least saved Leggy from the same fate I faced.

I’d failed in everything else.

My relationship with you, by hiding my intentions with the amusement park.

Completely fracturing the beginnings of repairing the damage I’d done with Smg4 and his crew, even if it would never truly be fully mended.

I’d failed to make anything of myself, other than the burned husk of myself I'd soon become, of a broken tv, scattered mechanical limbs and scorched torso. The flames caught my clothes on fire soon after the thought; it didn’t hurt as much as I believed it would have, until it reached one of my metal arms and heated the metal so much it began to burn the graying flesh of my original body that the mechanical limb was attached to. My fingers twitched around the bowtie, my grip strength failing.

Smoke began to fill my vents; it was getting harder to see, to think, to be.

An irrational rage hit me all at once, and I suddenly surged up with the desperation of a man who was losing everything he’d ever worked for, everything he’d sacrificed for, only to be left with nothing at all.

How could this be happening to me?

Me?

How?!

Where had it all gone wrong?

Wasn't it my due, to be able to prove my worth to the world?

To my father, who didn't believe I could achieve my dreams?

The pain seared through the non-mechanical parts of my body in an agonizing manner. I almost didn’t hear myself screaming as my flesh slowly began to be consumed by the fire, metal melting and adhering to the same flesh.

I raged for what seemed like hours against the flames when it was, in reality, likely less than a minute.

It wasn't fair.

This wasn't supposed to happen!

I screamed in fury and hurt over the way I had been left behind like a broken toy. Left behind like I was nothing, instead of someone that had, perhaps, meant something, anything, to someone out there. I cried out, for someone to come save me, to at least pull me out of the wreckage of this engine room and allow me to die outside of the fire that continued to cruelly ravage my mostly robotic body. I brokenly sobbed as my heart, one of the last organs in my body to be mostly organic instead of mechanical, began to palpate rapidly and painfully.

It hurt.

It was agonizing.

I screamed for help again, begged even, but the only answer was the roaring flames all around me, and the heat becoming too much to bear. My breath hitched as my body finally gave up entirely and became unable to move but for a helpless twitch now again as the attachments to my shoulders and thighs entirely shut down.

”Help.”

No one came.

”Please.”

No one cared that I would die here.

”I’m sorry.”

A whisper.

An utterance that I'd never really spoken before. Unable to help myself, I said it again, despite the fact no one was going to ever hear me now.

"I'm sorry."

I continued to murmur the phrase repeatedly, like it would somehow save me.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'msorryI'msorrypleasepleaseI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry."

I’d made Smg4 and his friends lives hell, directly and indirectly, before and after 'Puzzlevision.' Trying to enact revenge against them after the whole Meme Factory fiasco, when I was able to move again after being trapped there by Smg4.  The attempted revenge here at Puzzles Park against Smg4, Mario and the others had brought me nothing but grief, especially this time, when I’d foolishly believed, even for a moment, that I could have more than I did.

Be more than I had been.

Being sorry wasn’t going to change things.

Had I stopped before this whole amusement park endeavor, then maybe there would have been a chance that apologizing would have been possible. That making up for it for the foreseeable future would have been enough.

But I didn't do that.

And yet, I-

”I don’t want to die.” My voice was a terrified whisper.

Afraid.

I was so afraid, and alone.

My voice went unheard, just like all my other words and pleas.

I…had lost.

And not only was I going to soon lose myself, but I’d lost you in the process as well.

It was my fault.

It was…

I just…

I should have been satisfied with what I had, but I couldn’t be. Not when I felt I had the creative vision to show everyone that I did have what it took to be an entertainer, to make a great tv show, and to run an amusement park.

And now, like I’d seen before, my plans were falling to ruins around me.

The pain and agony soon became too great, my speakers long since cracking and bursting with the force of my screaming, pleading and broken sobbing.

There was no comfort for me here, in the end (nothing but a scrap of fabric that I clung to as best I could).

Because I’d pushed any possible comfort away.

I’d ruined possible friendships and completely ruined a relationship with my ambitions. With my desperation for ratings and for popularity to prove that I’d made it, and an amusement park to be run by me, to show my father that I was doing well, and better than he ever would have believed possible.

Now, I had nothing.

My fingers soon grasped nothing too, as the bowtie burned to charred bits of fabric that blew away from the raging inferno within the engine room. The paralyzing agony of burning to death with only the fires around me as the last thing I’d see made me a little delirious. Perhaps I dissociated, because it was all I could do to cling to a good memory before I died. It wasn't a grand one or one invoking those beautiful five stars I'd once held, but rather, a simple one.

A recollection of a quiet, unusually good day where I was visiting Smg4’s castle, with you. I remembered everyone else chatting about some nonsensical thing, so I’d focused on you and the way you were tucked perfectly against me. The way you'd leaned into my side with my arm wrapped around you. Your right hand held my own, our fingers laced together, your head resting on my shoulder.

The fire licked across my metal head and its casing, much too hot for it to stand against.

My visuals cut out all at once, yet this made it easier to continue on with the memory.

I clung to the phantom touches I felt, of the way your fingertips caressed along the back of my hand, without its glove. The sensation of your breathing, where I could feel the motions against my own torso. The calm peace that had fallen over me, content and happy, for once. I recalled the way you’d whispered to me after I'd draped a blanket over the two of us, your head and shoulders now resting comfortably on my chest, my metal head leaning over to rest the casing lightly on your head, the static coming from it occasionally buzzing with my content. The way you’d whispered to me, to not let any of the castle residents overhear us.

You...

I remembered…

In that lull of silence in the castle, you'd told me that you liked to spend time with me like this, and how you wouldn't mind it happening more often. I knew...

...I knew that I'd held you closer, and murmured that 'I'd do anything for you, my dear' in return.

That day…

I…that afternoon had been…

It was one of the last pleasant memories I held on to, before I’d gone down this path of no return.

That memory.

The calm, peaceful, tactile comfort that came from being in contact with another human.

I…

< No Signal >

Wait.

There was…something missing.

Something important.

The glass was missing.

Oh.

That was the end, then, wasn’t it?

A numbness began to spread.

I clung to the memory as I began to fall deeper within the darkness.

I knew…

I knew that this…recollection of a mundane, happy day…

...it was the last I would ever experience.

It…

...made me wonder…

Would you miss me?

...would anyone miss my presence...when the fires eventual burned themselves out?

Would anyone bother to come find what remained of me...

...would Puzzle Park be where I was left, to be forgotten?

I guess…

...it didn't matter any longer, did it?

There was nothing left for me here.

...soon there'd be nothing left of me...

...nothing left...

...no...

I...

…

…

…

..

.

~

It didn't seem real.

You pinched yourself, now and again, to confirm that this was real, what you were seeing, as much as you didn't want it to be true.

A wince.

You weren't dreaming.

The broken, charred, ruined and twisted metal skeleton structure of the amusement park remained.

Puzzle Park.

Mr. Puzzles' last desperate attempt for fame, for recognition, to be seen, and it had sent him far over the edge with no way back.

You ought to go back home.

It wasn't doing you any good to remain here.

This world, that is, not standing to stare blankly at the husk of the amusement park.

Smg4 had told you that you were welcome to stay (and visit) whenever you wanted, the man's expression letting you know that he knew what you were currently going through (or at least had a good idea).

But you couldn’t leave.

Even though the amusement park was ruined beyond repair…you had to know if Mr. Puzzles made it out of there alive, or if it had killed him.

So here you stood, fidgeting, while you waited for Smg3 and 4 to return from scouring the ruins themselves.

It had been about an hour.

There was something of an emotional numbness that took hold of you when you saw Smg3 carefully emerge from the debris.  When he saw you turn to look at him, Smg3 didn’t quite make eye contact with you. The red eyes gave nothing away, Smg3’s expression unreadable, but you had a feeling that it wasn’t good news you were about to receive.

Smg3 said nothing as he merely stepped to one side, in order to help get Smg4 get through the precariously leaning-together boards and metal of what had once been a door.

Your breath caught upon seeing the burnt, broken tv set back to its normal size, that Smg4 held awkwardly within his arms.

The screen was entirely gone, showing off the inside workings of the shattered tv, many of the components melted and tattered beyond repair. One dial was broken and the other was entirely missing. The antenna had melted down atop the top of the television into the casing beneath it, which had warped inward beneath that metal.

"Oh." The worst part for you was the gruesome sight of Mr. Puzzles' wire neck hanging limply down, metal wires exposed, where they were wrapped and melted around a couple inches of cervical vertebrae bone. "So...is..." You petered off almost immediately, unable to even ask whether Puzzles had escaped into his mind or not before that happened.

"You...you don't want to see the rest." Smg4 said unprompted, his voice shaky as he shook his head, and cast a glace toward Smg3. It was as if 4 couldn't look you in the eye anymore, presumably due to whatever he'd seen when he found Mr. Puzzles, and because he knew you'd been close with the tv-headed man before this whole mess. “It’s. Bad. Real bad.”

Smg3's expression set into a grim frown, as if picturing just how 'bad' it was for Smg4 to not say what he'd found. 

You wondered if the two had split up to better cover ground or something, but didn't ask.

3 looked at the bone and wires dangling beneath the television set that had been Mr. Puzzles neck but when he met Smg4's gaze, didn't ask for clarification.  

“Here.” You stepped forward to take the ruined metal head of Mr. Puzzles from Smg4. “I’ll…I'm going to take him to the house on the edge of the showgrounds.”

Neither Smg asked to accompany you, but you could tell that 3 and 4 followed, at a distance, to give you some privacy while you slowly began to unravel on the inside, your arms tightening reflexively around the broken, completely warped and melted tv in your arms. You barely remembered the walk back, but your legs certainly let you that it was a long, long way you'd gone, and that maybe you’d even been coaxed into a car at some point to be driven the rest of the way.

Time didn’t seem to be moving normally.

You’d not let go of the ruined television set in your arms.

It was dark.

Nighttime.

…wait.

When had you gotten inside of the house?

"Hey, we'll...we'll all be at the castle, if you...need some company?"

You distantly heard Smg4's words but could only give a single nod to let him know that you'd heard him.

A door closed.

You didn't hold it against Smg4 and the others for doing what needed to be done, at Puzzle Park, not when you'd seen all of their expressions when they were fleeing the burning-down building and surrounding area. Mr. Puzzles had needed to be stopped, and it seemed that taking him down in the engine room had been the only way to free him, to save him from the mess he'd gotten himself in to.  Even if he'd succeeded, Puzzles never would have been able to fully leave the engine room of the amusement park. In a way, it had been a mercy killing, even if you had wanted there to have been another way.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

You've no idea how long you stood there, until you found yourself slowly stepping forward to set the ruined tv down on the wooden cabinet in the living room. You couldn’t bear to put Mr. Puzzles' head in the bedroom, where it was dark. You’d rather what was left of him be in the living room window, so sunlight or moonlight could fall onto it.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, unchecked.

You weren't even sure when they'd begun to fall.

An odd noise scuffed against the door suddenly, breaking you out of the daze you'd been in. You frowned a little, not certain you'd actually heard that, but then you heard a little voice speak from behind the door. It said your name clearly, followed by 'open door.'

Was that…?

You found yourself at the door and opened it, to reveal the Leggy standing there. It could only be the one that had taken a liking to scurrying around and following Mr. Puzzles around.

Leggy...she was wearing Mr. Puzzles' bowler hat, and it looked like she'd been crying as well.

"Want to come in?"  You asked, stepping back.  You couldn't help but smile when Leggy blepped at you all but skipped inside happily and did a little spin-hop around you.  Slowly, you lowered yourself to the floor, so that you could look Leggy more easily in the eyes.  You pause, then open up your arms in an offer for a hug.  "It's...good to see that you're safe."

"Safe."  Leggy echoed in agreement, leaning into the hug. Then, she let out a low muffled sob as Leggy buried her face in one of your shoulders.  "Miss him...Puzzles."

"Yeah."  Your breath caught as you held Leggy closer. You close your eyes, then stood and walked over to the wooden cabinet. "I'll miss him too." With a careful motion, you take the bowler hat off of Leggy's head and place it on top of what remained of Mr. Puzzles head. You broke down into tears and sank to the floor when Leggy hopped out of your arms to place the red bowtie at the base of the tv, hiding the bit of wire and bone.

Smg4, Mario and Tari found you and Leggy hours later, inconsolable, in the living room, and awkwardly helped the two of you leave the house. It was an eerily silent, if somber, walk from the house at the edge of the showgrounds, to the castle, where you and Leggy wouldn't be alone. It likely wasn't healthy, to spend so much time in a house with what was essentially a piece of a corpse.

Mr. Puzzles' broken television set would remain within the house, bowler hat and bowtie untouched.

You wouldn't be able to bring yourself to enter the house again for over a year, the grief too much as you processed what happened. Time, and the company of others, helped to deaden the pain, even if it never really left. When yo u and Leggy finally returned to the house, no one in the showgrounds said anything of the way a small gravestone appeared behind it later in the day, though the bowler hat and bowtie remained within the house for a few more years, before those were stored within the closet of the bedroom. But even with the grave to put to rest what remained of Mr. Puzzles, and the final remnants that had been carefully preserved and stored away...you...you...

Leggy landed on your shoulder with a trill of greeting that ended with 'hiiiii!'

"Hello! Ready to go?" You asked, even as you began to head to the castle.

"Yes!  Have fun!"  

Looking away from the house, you began to meander your way toward the castle.

With passing time...with friends both old and new...it all helped to slowly heal the scars you held within left behind by Puzzles' death. Those scars would never fully fade, a piece of you lost forever to that ridiculously ambitious man that you'd cared about, had even loved, even though he was no longer with you.

-

*me kicking my feet gleefully because geez, while I love to torment my favorite characters, this one-shot was, uh, sure something during the process of writing it, but now I feel I can go back to my other fic now, where Puzzles will face consequences but nothing that makes him kick the bucket*