#triumph of surrealism | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notthefirstfallenangel · 7 months

Text

Memories IV

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, amnesia

Summary: You had your memory wiped after a messed-up mission. All that you remember is your childhood and fragmented glimpses of your teenage and adult years. Poor Simon, your would-be hubby, is left to pick up the pieces when you can't even recall his existence.

Words: 3.6k

A/N: Hey there! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I know the fandom has been going through a tough time lately, and I just wanted to remind you to take care of yourself, especially your mental health. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. Stay strong! ❤️

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

The blood-red sun sank slowly below the horizon, casting an amber glow over the world. The sky was a tapestry of oranges and purples, fading into blue and black as night began to creep in. You stood at the entrance of your home, feeling strange tingles in your chest as you paused on the threshold. Simon was behind you, his tall frame blocking out what little light remained outside and casting a long shadow across the front hall.

“Welcome home,” he said softly, breaking the silence.

You stood there, unable to move. You felt like your limbs were made of lead and rooted to the spot. Your mind was a tempest of emotions; you were grateful to be free from the hospital walls, but deep down, terror lurked. Nervous anticipation rose inside as you feared what truth lay ahead about yourself that could shatter the delicate mirrors of your own reflection.

Simon seemed to sense your hesitation and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You alright, love?” he asked, concern in his voice.

You nodded slowly, staring into his dark eyes, feeling a sense of gratitude towards him. Simon had been by your side every step of the way, watching as you slowly pieced your life back together. He had been there for every physical therapy session, every doctor’s appointment, every setback and triumph.

He had remained a constant in your life, a source of strength and support when you needed it most.

You slowly turned to face him as Simon’s hand remained on your shoulder. You looked up at his face, illuminated by the dim light coming from the living room, and took in his sharp features. His jawline was chiselled, and his eyes were piercing, exuding a sense of confidence and ease that you found reassuring. You felt a sudden urge to lean in and kiss him, to feel his lips on yours and forget about the world outside. But instead, you stepped back and shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts.

“I’m okay, thank you. It’s just strange... being back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon nodded in understanding, his hand still on your shoulder, and gestured for you to follow him into the living room. You walked past him, feeling the warmth of his skin against your own, and took in your surroundings.

After months in the sterile hospital room, everything felt surreal now that you finally got to come home. The world outside looked different as if it had changed in some way while you were confined to the hospital bed. You felt a sense of trepidation as you took in the sights and sounds of the city around you. It was all so overwhelming, so unfamiliar. You didn’t know how to navigate this new world without your memories. But as you stepped inside the house, a sense of comfort washed over you. The scent of lavender furniture polish wafted from within the house, helping to ease the tension in your body.

Simon placed your bags down with a thud like an anchor being dropped from his shoulders. He seemed to sense your unease and gently steered you towards the living room. The familiar surroundings filled you with warmth and peace, and for a brief moment, everything felt just right.

The living room was bathed in soft light, its walls lined with framed photos and paintings, some of which seemed vaguely familiar. You began to explore them, feeling an odd mixture of surprise and recognition as your gaze swept across each face in turn. Some were of Simon and you together, others were friends you had no recollection of. Yet still, something about them made your heart feel warm.

As you studied the photographs, Simon watched quietly as if waiting for you to come to some realisation. But the memories remained just beyond your reach. You could almost taste the bittersweet nostalgia on your lips, yet nothing solid materialised.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you let your fingers brush over the frames, tracing the outlines of the people in the photographs as if trying to remember them.

You stopped at one picture, a group photo of Simon, you, and several others at what appeared to be a night of celebrations. Everyone was smiling and laughing, their faces filled with joy. You looked at each person in the photo, trying to place them in your memory, but nothing came to mind.

“Who are they?” you asked, pointing to the group in the photograph.

Simon came over to stand beside you, his arm brushing against yours. “These are your teammates— our teammates. The ones who’ve got your back in the field and in the mess. They’re family.”

You shook your head, “I don’t remember them,” you said with a hint of frustration.

Simon placed a hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly. “It’s, uh, it’s alright, love. You’ll remember soon enough. Take your time. It’ll come to you, alright? So no need to be too anxious.”

But will I really? You wondered silently to yourself.

With a sigh, you turned away from the wall and towards Simon with an uncertain smile.

You noticed that he had changed out of his usual hoodie and was wearing a black leather jacket with a white shirt, looking more put-together than usual, as if he was trying to impress you. The tattoos on his forearm peeked out from under the sleeves of his jacket, adding to his edgy persona.

He frantically spent the day before scrubbing and scouring the house until it shone in perfect preparation for your long-awaited arrival. He felt like a nervous teenager on his first date, desperate to make a good impression. But he knew that this was different. This was about making you feel at home, helping you regain a sense of familiarity in a world that had become so foreign.

You turned to look at another photo, this time of Simon and you with a dog. The memories suddenly came flooding back, and your eyes lit up as you remembered the dog’s name.

“That’s Riley!” you exclaimed, feeling a slight sense of victory in finally remembering something.

“Riley! Here, boy!” you called.

But there was no barking, no sound of paws running across the floor. The house was eerily silent, save for the sound of your own breathing.

Simon’s expression turned grave as he looked at you, his hand still resting on your back.

“No, that, uh...Love,” Simon he said softly.” He... He passed, somethin’ like years ago.”

Your heart sank at Simon’s words, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You felt a sense of overwhelming loss, as if a part of you had died with the dog. You tried to remember the last time you had seen Riley. Still, the memory was elusive, like a dream that faded upon waking.

Simon saw the tears in your eyes and stepped forward to wrap you in a tight hug. You breathed him in, the smell of his cologne mixed with something else, something comforting like home.

You attempt to grasp at Riley’s memory, but your mind is foggy, and all you can recall is a faint trace of his affection. The anguish seizes you as you try to imagine the days spent together, playing fetch in the park and snuggling up on the couch, but all that remains are empty spots in your heart and mind. Burying your face in Simon’s chest, a harsh truth crashed down on you: You couldn’t even grieve properly because you didn’t remember the moments that connected you and Riley.

Simon’s stomach churned with guilt as he watched you suffer the same agony of Riley’s loss all over again. He had been so busy trying to make everything perfect for your return that he failed to factor in how hard it would be for you to come to terms with what had been taken away. Yet, despite the sorrow and regret, a glimmer of optimism flickered in his chest that perhaps you’d find the strength to remember even more. But for now, Simon knew you needed space and time to come to terms with everything that had happened.

As the two of you stood there in silence, lost in your thoughts, Simon’s grip on you tightened, and he pressed his lips to your forehead.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and it calmed the storm raging inside you.

When Simon finally pulled away, he gave you a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t wanna spring that on you.”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the loss. “It’s okay,” you said. It wasn’t.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No, not now,”

Simon nodded, his gaze softening. “Alright... listen ‘ere, love. You have been eatin’ those crappy hospital meals. You wanna get something new in your body and your system, yeah?” he said gently as his fingers brushed against yours in a comforting gesture.” I’ll cook somethin’ proper. You’re gonna love it.”

You nodded in agreement, not having the energy to argue. It had been a while since you’d had a home-cooked meal, and the hospital food left a lot to be desired. You followed Simon into the kitchen, taking in the warm, cozy space. It was small but had everything you needed, including a small dining table and chairs. The countertops were cluttered with various kitchen appliances and utensils, but everything was clean and tidy.

Simon rummaged through the fridge and pantry, his eyes scanning the shelves for something to cook.

As he gathered the ingredients for a simple pasta dish, you watched him move around the kitchen with ease. There was something about the way he moved, with such grace and purpose, that made you feel drawn to him. He was like a force of nature, unstoppable and relentless in his pursuit of whatever he wanted.

You noticed how his muscles rippled beneath his shirt as he chopped vegetables, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of attraction in your chest. You almost felt guilty for feeling this way about a man you didn’t remember. You knew you two were engaged, but it felt strange to be drawn to someone you had no recollection of. Being with Simon felt familiar, like coming home even though you couldn’t remember why. It was as if your body recognised him before your mind did.

The hospital breakdown was a pivotal moment in your relationship, and it seemed you two had struck a deal.

And yet, even though your memory didn’t seem any clearer, there was still a sense that your outlook had changed.

You seemed more vulnerable, more reliant on him for comfort and guidance. The barriers and walls you used to keep him away with were crumbling, and the two of you were starting to form a real connection.

This is progress, Simon told himself, hopefully. This is an improvement.

Simon felt both terrified and excited by this newfound closeness. He was scared to get too close too soon, scared of the pain of rejection if your memory did return and you chose not to stay with him. But at the same time, he could feel himself falling even deeper in love with every passing moment.

He wanted to give you some space, but his heart ached for yours.

You wished there was some way to go back in time and remember who you used to be together—but there just wasn’t. You didn’t know how to be the person Simon remembered, and that scared you. You wanted more than anything to make him happy, but it felt like no matter what you did or said, it wouldn’t be enough for him.

After dinner, he showed you the bedroom. The room was simple but elegant, with a queen-sized bed in the centre and a large window overlooking the backyard. The walls were painted a soft blue, and the bedding was white and fluffy, inviting you to sink in and drift off to sleep.

“I...I don’t want to take your bed.”

Simon smiled warmly at you. “It’s our bed, alright?” he said, his hand reaching out to take yours. “I ain’t gonna fight you over who needs to sleep where. I have a couch; lemme sleep on it.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you said, looking up at him with a small smile. “Are you sure you don’t mind sleeping on the couch?”

Simon shook his head, his hand still holding yours. “Look, love. We’re both tired here. I want to take care of ya and make sure you’re comfortable. So, you don’t gotta fight, and I ain’t gonna be arguing, or I’m gonna have to tie you down, and force a sleep mask over your eyes, yeah?”

“Okay, Okay,” you laughed. “Thank you,” you said softly.

Simon leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Alright, you rest up. I’ll see ya in the morning,” he said before turning to leave the room.

You watched him go, feeling a sense of longing wash over you. You wished you could remember what it was like to be with him, to feel his touch and his love.

Laying in bed, the day’s events replayed in your mind like a movie reel. The memory of Riley’s passing still weighed heavily on your heart. Still, there was something else tugging at the edges of your consciousness. It was like watching a horror movie with the sound turned down low; you could sense fear and trepidation from the dimly lit scenes playing out before you, but you couldn’t make out any details.

Your heart raced as you tried to piece together the fragments of this unknown memory, but it slipped away as quickly as it came, leaving you even more frightened than before.

You tried to sleep, but deep in your chest, you felt the beginnings of fear build. You turned over and over again in bed, growing more agitated by the minute. The shadows on the wall from the lamp beside it stretched out like malevolent spirits that wanted nothing more than for you to be afraid. Nothing to see here, they would say as they writhed and clawed at you with their formless hands, almost touching you before receding back into the darkness. Your feet move slowly through the darkness. The floor is cold under your feet as you step lightly through this unfamiliar place that once was your house.

“Damn it,” you said, the fear in your voice palpable in the silent room. You reached for the lamp on the bedside table, flicking it on and flooding the room with light. The shadows scattered, leaving nothing but the familiar sight of the bedroom. You took deep breaths, trying to steady your racing heart.

It was just a nightmare, you told yourself. It’s just a silly, irrational fear.

But deep down, you knew it was more than that. Something was lurking in your subconscious that you couldn’t quite grasp but knew was there. Something that made your skin crawl and your heart race.

You got out of bed, your feet hitting the cool hardwood floor.

Your feet move slowly through the darkness, the floor creaking beneath your weight. You move towards the door, your hand reaching out to grasp the doorknob. As you turn it, the door swings open with a low groan, revealing the dark hallway beyond.

Your heart thunders as you take the first step into the hallway. The darkness seems to encroach on you, swallowing up the light from the bedroom. You take another step forward, your eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. You could hear the light snoring coming from Simon on the couch, but it didn’t bring you any comfort.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something lurking in the darkness waiting for you.

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, the darkness consuming everything in its path. You felt like you were walking through a nightmare, one that you couldn’t escape from. You tried to call out for Simon, but your voice was hoarse and barely audible.

Suddenly, you heard a sound from down the hallway. It was faint, but it was there. A soft whisper, calling out your name.

Your heart leapt into your throat. You couldn’t see anything, but you could feel a presence in the darkness. You could feel its breath on your neck, its fingers brushing against your skin.

You turned around and ran towards the couch where Simon was sleeping when you saw a figure emerge from the shadows. It was a woman, her face twisted in a grotesque grin.

You could feel your feet sinking into the ground as if the floor was swallowing you whole.

You tried to scream, but the darkness choked your voice. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were sure it would burst out of your ribcage. And then, suddenly, the darkness lifted, like a veil being lifted from your eyes.

Just a dream, a nightmare that left you gasping for breath as you sat in bed. Your heart still raced, and your skin was slick with sweat.

You looked around the room, relieved to see that it was just a dream. But the feeling of terror lingered, its tendrils wrapping around your heart and refusing to let go.

You slid out of the bed, your bare feet brushing against the cool wooden floor. The air was thick with a sense of dread, and you needed to shake it off.

You moved quietly to the living room, past the vase of flowers on the table, their petals soft and pliable beneath your fingers.

Simon lay asleep on the couch near the window, bathed in moonlight that filtered through the blinds. You approached him, hovering over his still form like a guardian angel. The outline of his face was sharp yet softened by shadows; you could see the rise and fall of his chest under the comforter he had kicked off while sleeping. As you considered waking him, his eyes fluttered open.

“you good?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep and concern.

You jumped, startled by his sudden awakening.

“Oh, I’m... nothing,” you said, trying to sound casual. “I just couldn’t sleep and wanted to come out here for a bit.”

Simon frowned, his eyes dark with concern.

“C’mere,” he said, lifting the edge of the comforter. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was a good idea, but the weight of loneliness was too much to bear. As you nestled closer, his arms wound around you, and the press of his chest at your back reassured you that everything would be alright. His breath on the nape of your neck mingled with the scent of lavender fabric softener, and his heartbeat against your spine slowed to match your own. His touch calmed your racing mind until all that remained were the gentle brushstrokes of his fingertips along your arm.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle in the darkened room.

You hesitated, not wanting to burden him with your fears, but then decided to tell him. “I had a nightmare,” you said softly, feeling embarrassed.

“You want to-?”

“No,” you stopped him. You didn’t want to talk about it, not wanting to relive the terror of the nightmare.

He didn’t push it. “Okay... If you have that nightmare again, I’ll kick that thing’s arse, I will. Now, close your eyes. You need your sleep, darlin’.” his voice was low and soothing.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his protectiveness and felt a sense of security as he pulled you closer to him.

“Sweet dreams, okay? And close those eyes of yours, dear,” he murmured, kissing your head.

You smiled, and soon, with the warmth of his body next to yours, you fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of a shushed argument coming from the front door. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and sat up, groggy and disoriented.

You got up from the couch and walked towards the front door, your bare feet padding against the hardwood floor. As you got closer, you could hear the muffled voices growing louder.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should interfere, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you pushed the door open, and sunlight streamed through the opening, flooding the dark living room.

“Go away. Now.” Simon said, his voice ringing with anger, “I swear to bloody god, I’ll break your fakin’ nose.”

He was a silhouette in the murky morning light, feet planted firmly as he stood before an unfamiliar figure. His shoulders were tense, and a single bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His face was concealed by the usual black balaclava that melded seamlessly into his dark clothing.

The other man seemed taken aback by Simon’s outburst. Still, he quickly regained his composure and stepped forward, revealing himself in the dim light.

“C’mon, I just want to see ‘er”.

The Scottish lilt pierced through the thick silence like a knife, sending a shiver down your spine.

Like an electric shock, you felt a sudden jolt of energy as images of the past suddenly emerged from the fog of amnesia. Images, sounds, and conversations flooded your mind as fragments of memories all clicked into place, and you remembered him.

“Soap?”

Tags: @8sy-errah8 @yyiikes @spencerreidisbae123 @oranoyaora @sae1kie @originaldeerhottub @cr4shposts @caramlizedtomatoes @ilovehyperfixating @ghostlythots @dotcie

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x female reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #task force 141 #ghost cod #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x female reader

409 notes · View notes

eliciana · 4 months

Text

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

-> Chapter 1(Here)| Chapter 2 | ...

Masterlist

Blog Navigation

____________________________________

Hello everyone, pls don't expect much from this chapter,which is going to be part of a series, will be that good. I may have grammatical errors and wrong spellings so please don't hesitate to tell me in the comments about it. English is not my main language. Also, I write some very descriptive and long scenes about what the reader does because i got used to writing descriptive essays so please bear with the long paragraphs and sentences. Thank you.

And yes, I'm back. Also the Misunderstanding series will be updated after my exams this is just in my drafts and I wanted to just upload it.

-Eli

____________________________________

Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au, a bit of cussing like this bit 🤏.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Café Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. You can slide into my dms (😝 im joking bro) if you ever want to be tagged in my works just tell me what series you want to be tagged in or all of them. thank you <3.

____________________________________

You close your eyes and think back to that very fateful day — the day that entirely altered your life's course and shatter any semblance of normalcy you once knew. The memory is etched in your mind, clear and vivid. The secret your café had.

You had always dreamed of owning your very own café when you get older. It had always consumed your thoughts and fueled your ambitions. Doing everything you can to be able to make your dream come true. It was a dream that guided you through your highs and lows, the setbacks and triumphs, and now, your very own cafe is now right infront of your eyes. You stand awe, gazing upon your newly built dream café that represents your years of hard work and dedication. It almost feels surreal. The weight of such an accomplishment settles in your shoulders, filling with a sense of pride that it threatens to burst out of your chest.

The obstacles and challenges you faced along the way have not gone unnoticed. The countless hours of planning, the sacrifices made, the hurdles overcome—each scar and battle wound a testament to your unwavering determination. They have shaped you into the person you are today, a person who is standing on the precipice of their own extraordinary creation. In this moment, you can't help but reflect on how far you have come. You just want to curl up into a ball and cry for how proud you are for yourself.

As you approach the door to your café, your hand trembles with anticipation. You grasp the smooth handle, feeling the coolness of the metal against your palm, and slowly turn it. The door swung open, emitting a soft creak that pierced the silence. Above it, a small, quaint bell dangled delicately, waiting to be disturbed. The cascade of delicate notes wove together seamlessly, announcing your presence, like a whispered greeting to anyone who would listen.

You stare in awe and wonder at the interior design of your cafe , captivated by it's beauty. The space exceeds your imagination and sketches, each detail meticulously brought to life. You explore every corner, your eyes eager to take in every detail. The plants you selected with great care breathe life into the space, their vibrant green leaves adding a touch of freshness and enhancing the cozy, warm aura you envisioned. Sunlight steams through the windows, casting a golden glow that illuminates upon your carefully handpicked furniture, adding a touch of charm. Every detail, from the placement of tables and chairs to the color palette and textures and to the shelf placed at the wall behind the counter with small sized standees of genshin impact, comes together harmoniously, painting a reality that is more beautiful than it was in your imagination.

You took one last look at your own café, only to catch sight of a door that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. It wasn't in your sketches, nor was it part of the layout you had memorized. How could something so out of place suddenly appear in your beloved café? How weird. You were sure that when you went inside this café it was never there. It was on the opposite side of the front entrance door of your café. It had a very different kind of design from the doors you had. How weird . Were you perhaps hallucinating? Was your stress and sleep deprivation finally getting to you? You resort to pinching and slapping your cheeks in an attempt to jolt yourself back to reality. Nope. You can still see it. You rushed to go outside of your café. As you step out into the open, your eyes scanning the exterior, you're met with a surprising revelation—the door you saw inside your café is nowhere to be found. It's as if it had vanished into thin air, leaving you bewildered and questioning your senses.

Nonetheless, you breathed a heavy sigh of relief and once again went inside of your café, blaming your hallucination to your stress. However, as your eyes scanned the interior again, you saw the door still there.

'Oh, hell no.' You thought and quickly opened the front door again, took a look at the exterior, look at the door inside, and continued doing that action for a minute. Yup, you're officialy hallucinating.

You looked at the strange door and felt a nagging feeling of curiousity wanting to try and open that door. Maybe it was actually a big ass sticker that one of the builders placed as a prank. You never know. Steeling yourself, you went closer to the door on your tippy toes. Carefully trying to be quiet. Why? You don't know. You just knew you had to. Maybe it was an instinct of yours. You were now infrot of the door and you tried reaching for the door knob still thinking it was a sticker but the coolness feeling in your hands said uno reverse. You abruptly took back your hand in shock. You stared down at the atrocity in front of you. You quickly raised your foot and took off your shoes/heel/slipper and held onto it tightly. Preparing yourself to open the door, you took in a deep breath and reached for the door knob once more. Twisting it open, a ray of sunlight shone through the small crack as you pushed the door open gently.

Your eyes widen at the sight infront of you as you had fully opened the door. The grip your hand had on your lethal weapon widened and it slipped from your hands. The sight infront of you was so surreal. 'This can't be true, right?' your head was going to so many places, unable to comprehend what was going on. You felt kinda dizzy.

You would be a fool not to recognize this place that you had seen so many times throughout your life. A few kilometers infront of you was the City of Mondstadt in view. You could even see the knights guarding the gate and Timmie with his pigeons at the bridge.

The weird door from your cafe was actually a door to the Genshin Impact world. Wow... wtf.

____________________________________

also pls take a look at my poorly drawn drawing of what your view looks like cause for the love of god I can't seem to explain it:

Also you're in a cliff or something. so yeah

Taglist:

None

#genshin sagau #genshin reverse sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin reverse isekai #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #various genshin characters #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader x various genshin character #•works[🍡]•#genshin series

207 notes · View notes

weadapt · 11 months

Text

I think it’s interesting storytelling how in the beginning of the game Cal says the Sixth Sister’s name, Masana Tide, and reminds her of who she used to be—and it visibly distresses her because it hurts what was done to her and Cal isn’t wrong in what he’s saying. The shocking thing for me was the moment when Cal said “It’s time to set you free”. It was such a surreal feeling hearing Cal say that, those kinds of words, to know he decided it was time to strike her down; it’s understandable because she killed his entire crew, but for Cal to be the executioner in that way was scary to see coming after only experiencing the young kid he was in Fallen Order. Now you really get the feeling Cal has been through a lot, he’s grown as a man since Fallen Order and he’s calloused, not entirely in a bad way given he’d have to be to survive but still in a depressing way, as a result. I know overall and gameplay wise, Cal has killed a lot of people, it’s nothing new, but storytelling wise it’s a serious moment for Cal. It’s a moment you know is going to follow him the rest of the game for character development. After he kills her, it’s made clear by the music and by Cal’s body language that this isn’t a good thing coming from him. It isn’t a triumph. Even BD-1 knows and worries for Cal with his little “Boop…?” and Cal is only able to respond rather shakily, “Yeah… I’m okay”.

When he meets up with Bode and Bravo and they ask him what happened to the Inquisitor, he gives a simple, no emotion, “Dead”. The long pause of Bravo not saying anything in response to me says a lot; it feels like he isn’t used to Cal having a reaction like that.

Then we have Rayvis. Cal defeats him in battle and asks him to join in the fight against Dagan. He doesn’t want to kill Rayvis—“You don’t have to do this”. The oddly tragic part to me is that Rayvis has dreams of seeing Tanalorr again. If Dagan succeeds his dream will be realized, but he’s given up on the dream and wants a warrior’s death now. He wants to die, and in his mind, honorably, by Cal’s hands, and he’s going to force Cal to do it. But for Cal it’s another execution on his part. He pauses before he lifts his saber and kills Rayvis. It isn’t a triumph. Again we’re given a sudden swell of music to tell us the emotion behind the action of killing Rayvis. You can see it’s affected Cal badly. BD-1 seems to ask Cal the same question as before, “Boop…?” but this time Cal doesn’t acknowledge the question and just replies, “We should go”.

Killing Dagan hurts for Cal too. Dagan is a Jedi, someone who held onto the Order, who tied his entire identity to it and all of his goals are focused on restoring the Order and fighting to change the universe. Just like Cal in a way. Dagan is single-mindedly focused on the mission, so obsessively, he lost himself and the one he loved as a result. Cal understands and see the parallel of that kind of drive in his own mission against the Empire and it terrifies him. Dagan could’ve helped him fight the Empire but it became another tragic moment of having to kill a once fellow Jedi. This is another tragedy. Bode doesn’t care about Dagan being dead on the floor but Cal does. Cal has enough respect to place Dagan’s lightsaber on his chest. Cal pauses to reflect but Bode immediately gets back to getting the compass.

We have this interesting arch of reactions to killing his opponents. They were each killed for the mission. It was necessary. They each started the fight against him. No matter the reason though, it’s still very painful for Cal.

Cal is being pushed into this direction of forcing him to question his beliefs and who he is. His whole identity at this point has been tied to the Order, of being a Jedi, and it’s very clear by his conversations in Fallen Order that it really matters to who he is. By the end of Survivor, we have three fallen Jedi: Masana Tide, Dagan Gera, and Bode Akuna. So who is Cal Kestis? What will he become? Is he doomed to fall like they did? That’s what troubles him—“Let’s just say I don’t wanna end up like him [Dagan]”.

He’s afraid he’s going to lose himself.

The fear is almost realized when he’s about to kill another opponent. The one behind the murders of his friends and mentors. Cal’s been killing each of his main opponents up to the point at Nova Garon—this one will be no different. Except killing the man who sent Bode on the mission to infiltrate his team is different. Cal is on the edge of losing himself to the Dark Side. In Fallen Order he pleaded for Cere not to use the Dark Side because “She’s stronger than that”, “[she] still had a choice”. But Cal is failing to remember any of that for himself. He wants to kill because he’s angry, grieving, and in immense pain. Merrin has to bring him back—“This is not you!” There’s a question of whether or not Cal would’ve been able to stop himself if Merrin hadn’t been there though.

When we get to the final battle, Merrin is warning Cal of what’s likely going to happen but he ignores her for a while which prompts her to say, “Well? Say something!” He doesn’t want to acknowledge that Merrin is right and they’re likely going to have to kill Bode, and with that, taking Kata’s father away—a loss of family Cal and Merrin know too much about. So they both try and give Bode every chance to stop and turn away from what he’s done, despite how much Bode had hurt them. Sadly, Cal once again is forced into using the Dark Side to prevent Bode from killing Merrin. It was worth it. It was worth using it to save Merrin. He couldn’t let her be killed. He couldn’t see that happen before his eyes like he had with all of his friends and mentors.

After everything is over, there’s this sickly feeling left behind. Not simply because of Bode’s death, but because of the impact on Merrin realizing Kata has lost family just like she and Cal had, but also because of the impact the death of Bode has on Cal. And after Cal carries away Bode’s body, the music changes to an eerie, ominous, high pitch, minor key when we see Cal board the Mantis. The kind of change in music which lets the audience know there’s something seriously wrong. Things are different now. Cal’s different. And he knows it.

He’s lost in time watching the pyre, reflecting on everything that had happened but also on how grateful he is to Cere, but he knows the impact of her loss will continue to be with him for the rest of his life. Just like Jaro Tapal. Another guiding force in his life is gone. With Cere and Cordova gone, there is no longer any Jedi wisdom to seek out. He’s now alone in that way as a Jedi.

“I’m scared… I almost lost myself… I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Cal and the audience are left with the dreadful realization—

“I don’t know if I’m ready for what comes next”.

381 notes · View notes

sky-kiss · 7 months

Note

Omgggg you know how in the house of hope scene, there's the option to try to plead Raphael for no more bloodshed and then to say nothing? Imagine if Tav and co won, but Tav doesn't give the killing blow to Raphael. She truly doesn't want to kill him or for this to happen. Raphael meanwhile feels even more humiliated and hurt because he did really felt betrayed but damn it he can't do anything and why is she looking at him like that. Are those tears??

I just don't want the stupid man to be left alone and eaten by his dad 😭

A/N: Ok, so he's still like...alone. But he's not dead? Baby-steps. Woops. Uh. Maybe they meet up after.

________

He’s dying.

A surreal thought. His flesh is bruised and broken. Whatever power Mephistopheles loaned him has long since been withdrawn; his father is howling in triumph, the sound not unlike the blizzards whistling across Cania’s frozen wastes. It is the death of sanity, and the cost of his ambitions made manifest. Raphael attempts to pull himself to his knees, wings twitching and broken behind him. The right hangs limply, bones broken. There is pain, worse than any he has endured before.

It is the indignity that cuts worse.

The cambion lifts his head, lips curling back in a sneer. His pet lingers, an actress who has forgotten her lines and stage directions. Her erstwhile companions shift behind her, glancing between the devil and their mistress. The killing blow should come, but she hesitates.

The damned little thing dares to sound hurt. “I didn’t want this. Raphael, we needn’t have…” she takes a step forward, weapon dropping. “It shouldn’t have come to bloodshed.”

“A little late for that, no? My home, a ruin. My kingdom…” he snarls against the pain, digging his fingers into his palm. His vision blurs near the edges. Father calls him home. Calls him to the feast, howling. He will be like Magadon, consumed. But who will come to barter for his soul? No one, he thinks. “Every eventuality planned for, all but this.”

Tav crouches in front of him. The tears in her eyes baffle him, leaving slick tracks in the dust and grime. She touches his cheek. “Baldur’s Gate must be saved.”

“What did I offer you if not the means?” Fading, falling. Raphael presses his right hand to his belly, willing the bleeding to stop. “A fair deal, honestly made, and this is how I am rewarded.”

Her touch is comparatively cool. Something grounding in the encroaching darkness. “I know.”

“You know,” he sneers. “How eloquent.”

Tav smiles. She takes a small vial from her bag and uncorks it. The hateful little creature dares to press it to his lips as one might a child. The devil glares but drinks. The worst of his hurts begin to pull together. “I didn’t want this. I won’t kill you.” She helps him finish the bottle and then stands. She motions to the portal. “Come on. We have an invasion to prevent.”

She intends to leave him shamed and broken. He will be a pariah among the courts. His Father will know. The cambion clings to the last vestiges of his fury, “Insolent child, I will find you. The horrors of the Hells and the Abyss will seem pleasurable compared to the agony I will visit upon you.”

“If that’s what you want. You know where to find me.” She squeezes his shoulder as she passes. For all the heavens and hells, the only emotion flitting across Tav’s face is hurt. “Goodbye, Raphael.”

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #asks #my fic #bg3 spoilers

163 notes · View notes

suppose-i-was-worm · 10 months

Text

Rules of Engagement

**The last aside I currently have for the arctic siren AU! This is ALLL fluff**

Dick was confused. Jason, his precious little brother, had been acting strange for a few days- searching things on his phone during patrols, checking his personal bank account on the Batcomputer, and generally being shifty.

Now, Dick Grayson knew when to ignore things. He might be a bat, but he’d spent enough time with Young Justice to be emotionally competent like that. Whatever was going on with Jason? Probably shouldn’t just be ignored. He didn’t want another duffel bag incident.

Not that he expected that to happen- it had been almost a year since Jason’s last pit-fueled outburst, and he still hadn’t explained what happened to make them go away. Dick wouldn’t pry- his little wing was happier than he’d ever been, with a steady boyfriend and a fast hold on the crime in Crime Alley.

“What do you want, Dick?”

“Hey Jay! Want to hang out with me today?”

“I… had plans already.”

“Oh. Well, maybe we can hang out tomorrow? Get some bonding time in?”

There was a long pause, and Dick let it happen so that Jason could think about what he wanted to say.

“You could come with me. On my errand.”

Feeling a thrill of triumph, Dick nodded furiously, before remembering he was on the phone.

“Sure! What errand are we running?”

“A shopping trip. Dress nice.”

Dick waited impatiently for Jason to ride up the long drive, motorcycle helmet in hand. He was almost shaking with excitement to hang out with his brother.

Much to his surprise, instead of stalling and waiting for Dick to get on, Jason pulled to the side and parked his motorcycle.

“Hey, little wing! Need something in the manor?”

“In the garage.” Jason wasn’t meeting Dick’s eyes. “We’re taking the BMW.”

Dick followed bemusedly, and they passed and equally bemused Tim on the way. Jason glanced at Tim, then at Dick, and then scowled.

“You can come, Drake, but I’m not taking the Demon Brat.”

“Hey! I had to dress nice, but Tim gets to come in jeans and a t-shirt?”

Jason grinned back at Dick.

“I like him better right now.”

Dick faked a swoon as they walked.

After a short squabble for shotgun- Dick won- the three of them headed out. Dick asked a few questions on the way, but Jason got quieter and quieter the longer they drove. Once he stopped answering, Tim leaned forward.

“Are we going to the Diamond District?”

Dick looked to Jason, who jerked a nod.

“Shopping.”

“For what?”

Jason flushed red as a tomato.

“Engagement ring.”

Tim slapped a hand over Dick’s mouth before he could let out an excited squeal.

~~~

Jason led them to the first jewelry store on the strip, hands in his pockets and looking as nonchalant as he could, still a little heat in his cheeks from his confession in the car.

The chipper store clerk greeted them without batting an eye at Tim’s attire.

“How can I help you today?”

With a smile that he didn’t feel, Jason answered.

“Yes- I’m looking for engagement rings. Do you have anything with blue or green stones?”

The clerk ducked her head in a nod.

“Of course, sir. What size were you needing? We might have the right size in stock for take-home today, or we can resize and you can pick your choice up later!”

Jason knew this next part would be awkward, but with Dick and Tim hovering behind him, he had the courage to pull out the small box in his pocket, and then open it to reveal an onion ring crisp.

“About this size.”

He watched as the clerk visibly struggled to keep from laughing as she took the box from him.

“Let me- ahem. Let me measure that for you, then.”

“Do that.”

Without turning, Jason elbowed Dick, who was snickering quietly behind him. Tim had the grace to at least turn away.

“Shut up. It was the only way I could figure it out without him being suspicious.”

“I didn’t say anything, Jaybird!”

“You thought it real hard.”

~~~

This was surreal. Tim wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but by the third high-end jewelry store they went to (and no robberies yet!), he figured this was a prank of some kind. Surely Jason didn’t have to pull out the onion loop at every store?

By the glint in Jason’s eye leaving the first store, yes. He did. For fun.

Tim needed more coffee.

Finally, after six stores (how were there so many jewelry stores in Gotham?) and three hours (how were none of the stores robbed in a three hour span?), they found a ring that Jason approved of.

Tim had liked most of the rings they saw, but apparently this one was the one. It was a beautiful ring- a coffin cut blue sandstone framed tastefully by diamonds on a twisting silver band.

It was also prohibitively expensive for anyone who wasn’t filthy rich.

He didn’t know why Jason had snickered when the clerk had described the gem as ‘coffin cut’, but then again, he was tired and wanted to go home.

Don’t get him wrong, Tim was overjoyed that Jason had deemed him worthy of joining in on this trip- it’s just… An excited, emotional Dick is an exhausting Dick.

Their big brother was practically bouncing out of his skin when they left the store, perfectly sized ring in hand.

“Can we go get lunch? Have you planned your proposal? Have you two talked about marriage yet? How do you think he’ll react?”

Jason shrugged, biting down on the onion loop with a satisfying crunch.

“No. Nein. Non. Positively, I hope.”

Dick pouted, and Tim steeled himself to resist the oncoming puppy-dog-eyes. Dick was unfairly good at them.

“C’mon, Jaybird, give us something?”

Jason scowled.

“I let you come get the ring with me. We’re going back to the manor to show Alfred.”

Tim couldn’t help but cut in.

“Not Bruce?”

After a short pause, Jason sighed.

“Maybe Bruce, if Dick stops annoying me.”

Dick mimed zipping his lips shut and then eating the key, which Tim thought was counterintuitive.

~~~

Bruce watched as his second son showed Cass and Duke the ring he’d purchased for Danny. He’d been shown, thankfully, and approved- of both the ring and the intended. Even if he didn’t he would still be happy for Jason.

Danny Nightingale would be a wonderful addition to the family, not just because of his physical resemblance to the rest of his adoptees. He was smart, quick-witted, and willing to stand up for both himself and the people he cared about.

Now, Bruce was a little wary that this was going so fast- the two had only been dating for a little over ten months, but if it made Jaylad happy, then so be it.

He would, however, insist on being the one to give his son away. Maybe he could convince Diana to officiate? Jason would like that. He had always idolized her, even when he was running around in the Robin suit.

Was Bruce jealous? No.

A little.

Jason had pulled out his phone to make a call.

“Hi Aunt Diana! I’m going to ask my boyfriend to marry me!”

Fine, yes. Bruce was wildly jealous. But he got it. Wonder Woman is cooler than Batman.

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x batman #danny phantom #arctic siren au #dead on main #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake

290 notes · View notes

featherandferns · 11 months

Text

'shut up' (fic)

300 followers special! thank you!!!!

jj maybank x fem!kook!shy!reader | the music the band plays in this are songs by beach bunny (that's the music style i envisioned for the reader) - check them out!

a fascinating new thing spin-off celebration fic for 300 followers (per this and this request haha)

content warning: drinking; anxiety

word count: 3k.

Blurb: it's been a month since the moment on the hammock. JJ calls you 'baby' like it's the most natural thing. But some things have been left unsaid. Maybe one night, at Pansy's, where things seemingly started, one of you will kick up the nerves...

Ironic, how the first time you played at The Wreck you actively avoided JJ Maybank’s gaze. Now you seek it out. Whenever you feel the stage-fright creep up on you like a spider stalking in the night, you dart your eyes across the small but ever-growing crowd and find your boyfriend. He watches you like you’re some star-studded bigshot. Like you’re Beyoncé or something, holding the stage and audience in your palm. It does something to your stomach, still, after the month the two of you have been officially together. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to having JJ look at you that way, so clearly and unapologetic. If you’ll ever get used to having the knowledge that he knows the songs are about him.

So, as you sing the closing lyrics to the final song of the set, you can’t seem to break away from his gaze. You know your friends will tease you both about it later, and that whilst you’ll shrivel up under the light-hearted scrutiny like a prune, JJ will grin and bask in the attention. The two of you seem to equal out the scales.

“Suddenly, everything is easy. I’ve never felt something so deeply. Cause with you, with you, I breathe again. Baby you’re my oxygen.”

When you and Pansy harmonise for the fade-out, you finally pull your focus from JJ’s smiling face. Instead, you smile at your bandmate and best friend. Bob your head along to the steady beat of the drums as the song ties off to a close.

The crowd breaks into applause. Cheers and whoops and hollers triumphing over claps that make you laugh into the microphone.

“Thank you,” you grin.

There it is again. Your eyes falling onto JJ and his on you; opposite sides of the magnet, attracting. He nods at you, proud, and you feel your grin turn mushy, teeth sinking into your lower lip in a failing attempt to restrain it. Damn him.

“Thanks for being a great crowd, guys! We’re The Wallflowers! Buy our shit!” Pansy shouts gleefully.

Routine as always: the lights flick on, the microphones disconnect, the Reggae playlist kicks up, and the crowd tumbles into conversation, pours over their drinks, perhaps filter out the doors. The Pogues wander up to the stage as Mike shrugs off his bass and Pansy her guitar.

“You guys were dope,” John B grins from below the small stage.

“Like always,” Pansy winks at him.

“I’m liking the new stuff,” Kiara smiles at you.

“Thanks! I’m trying to mix things up a bit more,” you say.

JJ’s holding out his hand for you to take. You use his help to jump down from the stage, standing by his side. Try your best not to retreat when he leans down to kiss you in front of everyone. It’s not that you don’t want him to you; it just still feels somewhat surreal that he wants to, and does so, freely.

“We still hanging out at yours, Pansy?” John B wonders.

“Mhm. Empty house kids,” she grins. “Sides, we need to celebrate our new drummer who did a fucking awesome job tonight.”

As if on cue, Xander wanders across the stage from where they’d been hiding behind the drumkit. They grin down at everyone, their brow piercing catching the light of the restaurant and twinkling.

“You’re already killing it,” Kiara says.

“Yeah, way better than the last guy,” JJ adds.

You elbow him. The look that you flash him, however, tells him that you’re not mad.

Benny had quit the band not long after you and JJ became a thing. Things were already messy from the fight at the fair and the tone was forever changed. It was obvious that yourself and Pansy were honouree Pogues now and that if Benny couldn’t pull his head from out of his ass (Pansy’s words, not yours) then there’s no room for him in the band anymore. The two of you had talked about what went down. It was awkward and uncomfortable and painful, to look at someone who you once saw as an irreplaceable friend and now only recognise as a decent drummer. Benny confessed that staying in the band with you, knowing he couldn’t be with you, would be too painful. You refused to let yourself feel guilty. You wouldn’t change how things went down and selfishly, if it meant you got to keep your friends and JJ in your life, then Benny would have to slip through the cracks.

JJ’s arm slinging over your shoulder, tugging you closer to his chest, has you tuning back into the conversation again. You wrap an arm gently around his waist. His tee shirt smells of salt water and cheap cologne. It’s so wonderfully him that you have to keep from burying in it. It’s strange how a few months ago you’d almost come to peace with the fact that you’d maybe journey through life alone romantically, with nothing but good friends and music to accompany you, and now here you are, fitting so well under JJ’s hold that it’s like you were made to be there.

“So once she’s finished up there, her and a few of her friends are gonna come over. If that’s cool with you, Pansy,” Mike finishes saying. By ‘she’, he means his now official girlfriend, Tara.

“Of course! The more the merrier!”

You smile at your little group of friends. Slightly misfitting and far from what you’d expect, but perfect, nonetheless. Pansy and JJ’s effervescent energies; Kiara and Mike both laid back and argumentative at the same time; Xander’s stories that allotted perfectly with Pope’s; John B flitting in and out of conversations seamlessly, like a school of fish leisurely navigating through a sea of kelp and coral. And you, surrounded by so much love you don’t really know what to do with it.

“Ready to go, baby?”

Baby. JJ started calling you that a week after the moment on the hammock. You liked it, being someone’s baby. Being his baby.

“Mhm,” you smile up at him.

With that, you filter out the restaurant. You’d already agreed with Kiara’s dad that you’d tidy up the band stuff tomorrow morning, before opening. This was your fourth time playing there, so it was a well-made routine by now. Walking towards the cars, Kie steals you away to have you ride with herself, Pansy and Xander in the pick-up. The boys pile into the Twinkie and Mike has to duck his head hopelessly as he clambers in. Oh to be six-foot six. The conversation that comes between the four of you is light and easy, with anecdotes about school being tossed around like a volleyball on the beach. By the time you pull up to Pansy’s house, your chest aches from laughing. The guys pull up just moments later in the twinkie as you climb out the pick-up.

“You guys giving my girl laughing gas or something? She’s grinning like a mad man,” JJ hollers as he jumps out the van.

“Just finally in the presence of someone who’s funny, is all,” Pansy jabs. Your friends ‘ooh’ in return.

JJ takes your hand and the lot of you climb up the stairs to Pansy’s house. There’s an unspoken agreement to hang out near the pool. People swipe up some beer and liquor and mixers on the way. Pansy connects to the speaker and you all relax into seats and loungers. Conversations carry from the cars to the garden like driftwood on the tide. JJ practically pulls you down to sit in his lap. An arm coils around your waist comfortingly.

“This okay, baby?” he murmurs into your ear.

Your skin prickles pleasantly. Baby.

“Mhm,” you nod, looking at him. He presses a kiss against your lips, fast and fleeting.

Then the two of you are accepting red solo-cups filled with beer and smiling into the chatter. JJ gets tangled up in some heated debate, leaning forward and energetically arguing his case through a grin. His arm tightens its hold on you, though never painfully so, whenever he does. For the most part, you’re content in listening along. Nodding and laughing. Whispering jokes into JJ’s ear that you don’t quite have the nerve to toss into the group, and basking in the laughter it draws from him.

When Tara does show up, ‘a few of her friends’ ends up being nearly ten people. They’re all nice enough, smiley with drinks in hand, but they’re also all buzzed and way more extroverted than you will ever be. The pitch of the conversation rises by about three notches. It’s harder to follow along with a conversation and harder still to sit in your blissful observation position on JJ’s lap. It seems Tara’s friends are hellbent on ‘including you’ in the conversation, but their way of doing so involves grilling you with questions. They’re not rude or invasive, but you don’t like being under so many eyes, waiting on what you have to say when you don’t really have much to say at all. Instinctively, you start drawing shapes on the back of JJ’s hand that’s resting on your thigh.

“Hey,” he says, pulling your attention to him. “You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure? Think you’re painting a Mozart on my hand there.”

“You mean Monet,” you say.

JJ rolls his eyes. Presses a kiss to your cheek. “Smart ass.”

There’s a roaring round of laughter. You sigh and try to ease the tension that’s forming in the back of your throat. It’s so dumb. These are your friends. You’ve met Tara before and she’s lovely. A little intimidating in a could-be-a-bikini-model-six-foot-four-long-perfect-hair way, but still lovely. Her friends aren’t mean Kooks. They’re all pretty chill. They seem to be meshing well with the rest of the Pogues, too. You catch Kiara’s eyes as you scan the conversation. She frowns the moment she lays eyes on you.

‘You okay?’ she mouths.

You nod. You don’t want to be a party pooper. Everyone’s having fun, including JJ.

He squeezes your thigh, grabbing your attention once more.

“Come on,” he says, moving to stand up. You frown but shift onto your feet, with JJ in tow.

“What’s up?”

“We’re going inside for a sec,” he tells you, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I’m fine. Really.”

JJ looks down at you. Whilst his expression doesn’t exactly change, you get this feeling that his thoughts are ‘yeah, right.’

“Well, I wanna check out this Kook mansion and I need a tour guide,” he replies.

You smile at that, despite your efforts not to. Hands interlocked, you follow JJ out of the small gathering and into the kitchen. Flush like you’re on fire at the wolf-whistle John B sends your way when you do. In both your and JJ’s spare hands are your solo cups, half full of beer. There’s a pleasant hum to your thoughts, giving everything a colourful edge almost.

“You’ve been here before, remember,” you say to him as he guides you both through the empty house. It’s almost insulting that three people live here, at most.

“Well, I spent most of it in the bathroom so—”

“Oh! Really?”

He grins down at you and you laugh.

“Wow!”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to spend it in the bathroom!”

“Mhm,” you grin, rolling your eyes. The two of you make your way up the stairs. Automatic lights flick on as you do.

“I’d rather spend the night sat with some cute Powerpuff girl than hang out with the loser Kooks downstairs,” JJ says. That has you flustered. You squeeze his hand.

“Shut up.”

“You did it again.”

“Shut up!”

JJ imitates you, shrivelling up under the compliment, and you laugh and swat at his arm. His lifelong mission to make you accept a compliment is one month in and currently unsuccessful. As you guys wander down the seemingly never-ending corridor, you remember something you and Pansy did once. With that thought, you take the lead, pulling JJ behind you as you guide the two of you into one of the may spare bedrooms. It smells a little musty, though nothing like a museum. It’s fresh must: like worn-down reed diffusers and fresh cotton that never got tainted. On the bed lies tons of winter clothes as if someone was halfway through clearing out a wardrobe.

“Where are you taking me?” JJ asks, humour light in his voice.

“To my secret spot.”

“Ooh.”

“Ooh,” you echo teasingly, flashing a smile at him over your shoulder.

Handing your cup to JJ, you pull the window open and glance out, checking you have the right room. There’s the extension’s roof, underneath, solid as a rock. Smiling, you gesture your head for him to follow and then you’re climbing onto the roof. JJ chuckles a little.

“Didn’t know I was dating spiderman, but okay.”

“You can’t tell anyone my secret identity,” you joke in reply.

You’re watching where you’re placing your feet, checking your balance. Holding out your hand for your beer, JJ passes over the cup then grunts as he clambers out to join you. The two of you settle on the roof top. It’s a starry night tonight. The universe seems as though it may stretch on for miles. Countless sparkles of light illuminate above you, basking in the absence of light pollution.

“Woah.”

“I know, right?” you smile.

JJ grins up at the sky, captured in awe. It’s adorable how boyish and young he seems when he does. Some things that mother nature does can stop anyone in their tracks: young and old, fat and thin, rich and poor. Beauty doesn’t have limits. You would know, looking at one of the most beautiful things on the planet, right before your eyes. Dirty-blonde hair brightened by natural highlights from too many hours on the water, under the sun. Crinkles by the eyes that never quite go, even when he isn’t smiling. A jawline taken from a sketchbook and a smile that can make someone fold at the knees and swoon at the heart. You take to admiring your boyfriend the same way he admires the stars.

If you told childhood you that you were now sat on top of Pansy’s roof with your school-long crush, sipping beer and watching stars, you’d send her to A&E for a stroke.

“You’re staring,” he mumbles, not drawing his eyes from the view above.

“So?”

“So,” he smiles.

“You’re my boyfriend. I’m allowed to stare, aren’t I?”

JJ’s smile takes on a little edge, like he’s proud. He glances down at you. “Like how that sounds. ‘Boyfriend’.”

You flush. “I mean, you are, aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I?” he teases.

You roll your eyes and gently shove his shoulder. JJ laughs. The sound makes you smile, like a reflex.

“Shut up.”

“Might start taking a shot for every time you say that to me.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, because you can’t think of something else to say.

JJ guffaws. He slinks an arm around your waist and tugs you nearer to his side. You rest your head against his collar bone with a sigh.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you eventually say into the almost-silence. There’s the carrying sound of your friends’ chatter from below, managing its way up to the roof.

“Of course I am,” he says, teasing worn down. “Come on – thought we made that happen on the hammock.”

“Well, so did I, but we never officially said anything,” you quietly tell him.

JJ swallows. He knows what you mean. It’s impossible not to. That day went from being one of the best, to one of the worst, to one of the best days of your life. Things were left unsaid from it but things changed, nonetheless. The spot next to JJ was reserved for you; his texts became more flirtatious, more sweet, more sensitive; the two of you would kiss, whenever and wherever (something that you still can’t quite get used to); and you and JJ would spend time together with nobody else around. The ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ thing felt pointless. The ‘I love you’ thing, however, felt a little less right being left untouched.

“I gotta tell you something,” JJ says. He shifts so the two of you can meet the other’s gaze. You swallow down the nerves.

“Don’t tell me: you’ve got the clap,” you deadpan.

JJ smiles. He laughs silently, shaking his head. You still can’t believe he finds you funny. That he wants to hear your jokes more than anyone else’s.

“Not quite.”

“Gonorrhoea?”

“Shut up,” he sniggers, shaking his head.

You point a finger at him, grinning. “Aha! You said the thing!”

“You’re impossible, did you know that?”

“Nothing’s impossible if you just believe in yourself,” you hum, perhaps a little more drunk than you thought. Maybe that’s just him though. JJ tends to have that effect on you.

The only way it seems that JJ can think of shutting you up is to kiss you. You smile, slipping your hand over his atop of the grainy fabric of the roof tiles. Kissing JJ is like seeing a supernova: impossible to describe; faultless and insurmountably beautiful.

“What I was trying to tell you,” JJ says the moment his lips break from yours. Then, another kiss. “Is that” – another kiss – “I love you.”

You break apart with that, falling short of breath. You slowly open your eyes. Glance up to his, near reluctant. Wait for his jeer down to his friends or the punchline to follow, because surely – surely, he doesn’t. Could he? He’d sort of said it on the hammock, but when you pushed, he pulled away, and it made you wonder if you misinterpreted it. There’s a difference between having a thing for the quiet, weird girl and being in love with her.

Maybe all of these thoughts read easy on your face, because JJ’s half-smiling, half-frowning, and thumbing at your cheek.

“I mean it,” he quietly affirms. “I’m in love with you.”

“How do you even know that?” you whisper.

JJ smiles fully now. He shrugs. “I just do. I just…I don’t know. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I didn’t even know it.”

“Everything?”

Your quietness? Your weird sense of humour? Your awkward punchlines? Your baking? Your crocheting? Your music? Your singing? Your body? Your figure? Your face? Your smile? Your voice? Your brain?

“Everything,” he nods reassuringly.

Kisses you once more, firm and fierce, and you kiss him back. That familiar zip chimes up and down your body, lighting up your neurons and firing away at your synapses. Being told by JJ Maybank that he loves you feels akin to Gabriel declaring to Mary that she was chosen. That you’re special, and beautiful, and maybe somehow sexy. That you’re talented and wanted and funny – he thinks you’re funny. He’s taken the time to know you and to understand you. He waited for you and you waited for him. And now, here, it’s like he’s the king of your heart. Maybe you ought to crown him for showing you these colours of the world and for teaching you the language of his tongue. For changing your life in every way a person probably can.

There’s only one type of crown you can think to give.

“I love you too, JJ.”

Thanks for 300 followers everyone <;3

297 notes · View notes

pengujoon · 8 months

Text

ECHOES OF DESOLATION

content. gojo satoru x reader, angst, hurt/no comfort. cw: death. poor gojo has to lose yet another loved one right in front of his eyes, you die before him.

a/n: death.

The battlefield was a maelstrom of chaos, curses and sorcery colliding in a symphony of destruction. Amidst the fray, Gojo moved with blinding speed, his cursed energy radiating with an intensity that seemed to eclipse the very sun. His blue eyes held a burning resolve, a testament to his unwavering commitment to protect those he cared for.

Beside him, you fought with equal fervour, your determination a mirror of his very own. The two of you moved in perfect sync, each strike a testament to the bond you had forged through trails and triumphs.

Your presence was his anchor, your shared strength a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

But as the battle raged on, a powerful curse emerged - one that defied all attempts to contain it. Its malevolence was palpable, its energy radiating with a sinister intent.

In a split second that felt like an eternity, it lunged towards you, its dark tendrils reaching out to claim you.

Gojo's heart clenched as he watched in horror, his voice a raw roar that reverberated through the chaos. "NO!"

With a surge of speed that was nothing short of breathtaking, Gojo intercepted the curse's attack, his cursed energy colliding with the malevolent force. The impact was cataclysmic, an explosion of power that tore through the battlefield, leaving devastation in its wake.

When the dust began to settle, the battlefield was shrouded in silence - a haunting contrast to the fierce battle that had raged only moments ago.

Gojo's form emerged from the aftermath, his energy visibly diminished from the clash.

And you... you lay motionless on the ground, your body still and lifeless. Gojo's eyes widened, his voice a strangled whisper that carried the weight of his shattered world. "Why...?"

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, reality itself twisting into a nightmarish tableau. The battlefield was cast in shades of grey, the cries of curses and chaos of battle distant and surreal.

The ground felt unsteady beneath Gojo's feet as he rushed towards you, his movement fuelled by a desperation he had never known.

He fell to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as they brushed against your cold skin. "No... please, no."

The agony in his voice was a visceral thing, a raw expression of grief that tore through the very fabric of his being. His fingers traced the contours of your face, as if hoping to awaken you from an impossible dream.

The rage within him surged to the forefront, a tempest of power that resonated with his anguish. With a primal scream that echoed through the desolation, he unleashed a torrent of cursed energy, obliterating curses that dared approach.

The battlefield became a canvas of his fury, a storm of destruction that left no curse untouched. His power radiated with an intensity that consumed everything in its path, his strikes swift and merciless as he cut through the malevolent forces that had taken you from him.

As the last curse fell, the battlefield was left in ruins, a testament to Gojo's unbridled rage. And amidst the pile of defeated curses, he sank to his knees, his breath ragged as he surveyed the destruction that he had wrought.

The blue of his eyes, once a symbol of strength, now held a void of emptiness. The weight of his loss pressed upon him, suffocating and unrelenting. With a guttural cry that seemed to piece the heavens, Gojo's composure shattered.

Tear streamed down his face, his shoulders shaking as the dam he had built around his emotions crumbled. The walls of his grief echoed through the barren landscape, a chorus of agony that seemed to reach beyond the confines of the battlefield.

Alone amidst the wreckage, Gojo's cries seemed to merge with the echoes of the battle, the boundaries between his pain and the turmoil around him blurred.

And as the sky above remained shrouded and in darkness, a chilling realisation settled upon his heart - a realisation that he was now alone, without the one he loved by his side. The battlefield was empty, devoid of life, a reflection of the void that had consumed his soul.

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x gn!reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen hurt/no comfort #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #penguwrites

94 notes · View notes

meadhbhcavanagh · 6 months

Text

History Made | Michael Schumacher daughter fic

The Hockenheimring circuit in Germany was alive with the symphony of roaring engines, and at its center stood Lena Schumacher, the daughter of the legendary Michael Schumacher, on the verge of making history. The German Grand Prix wasn’t merely a race; it was a homecoming for Lena, carrying the weight of expectations as she aimed to redefine the narrative in her rookie season with Mercedes.

In the Mercedes garage, the air hummed with anticipation. Lena navigated the iconic track with finesse, finding herself at the forefront of the race. Unbeknownst to her, Michael Schumacher, her father, made his first public outing since his accident, orchestrating a surprise visit to witness this pivotal moment. Mick Schumacher, her brother and reserve driver for the team, observed with a mix of pride and sibling camaraderie.

As the final laps unfolded, Lena maintained her lead, the Mercedes team holding their collective breath. In a historic moment, Lena Schumacher crossed the finish line, becoming the first woman in history to win a Formula 1 Grand Prix.

As the checkered flag waved at Hockenheim, the Mercedes garage erupted in cheers and jubilation. Over the radio, Lena Schumacher's race engineer conveyed the historic news.

"Congratulations, Lena! You've just made history! You're the first woman to win a Formula 1 Grand Prix!"

"Wait, what? Did you say… history? Oh my... I... I can't believe it!" Lena said, her voice slightly cracking with emotion.

Amidst the roar of the engines and the celebration in the garage, Lena's voice over the radio reflected a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy. The realization of her achievement, the weight of making history, echoed through the airwaves.

“You did it, Lena! Enjoy the moment, you've earned it!” said Toto Wolff, so proud of his driver.

"Thank you, thank you so much. This is... this is incredible. I couldn't have done it without the team and everyone's support. Wow." said Lena, her voice getting steadier.

The radio communication captured a poignant moment in Lena's journey, the raw emotion of achieving something extraordinary evident in her voice. The message of breaking barriers and making history reverberated not only within the Mercedes team but also through the hearts of fans worldwide.

Unseen by Lena, Michael Schumacher emerged, his presence a surprise for his daughter. Mick, among the first to congratulate her, shared a smile that spoke of both sibling rivalry and familial pride.

Lena brought her victorious Mercedes to a stop, the cheers and applause echoing through the air. As she stepped out of her car, she was greeted by the presence of her father, now using a wheelchair due to the lasting effects of his accident. Corinna, her mom, and Gina, Lena's sister, were also there with Mick, forming a family circle.

"You did it, Lena. The first woman to win a Grand Prix. I couldn't be prouder," Michael said, his eyes reflecting the joy only a father could feel.

As the Mercedes team joined the celebration, Lewis Hamilton, Lena's teammate, approached with a wide grin. "Congratulations, Lena. You've made history today!"

The emotional reunion and the historic victory became the focal point of the post-race celebrations. Lena, still absorbing the magnitude of her achievement, stood atop the podium. The German and Mercedes flags waved proudly. The national anthem played, marking not just a victory but a symbolic triumph for diversity and inclusion in Formula 1.

In an extraordinary 1-2 finish for Mercedes, Lewis Hamilton secured the second position. The podium celebration was a testament to the team's dominance and the groundbreaking achievements of Lena Schumacher.

Post-Race Interviews:

Lena Schumacher:

Interviewer: Lena, congratulations on an incredible victory. How does it feel to be the first woman in history to win a Grand Prix?

Lena: It's surreal, honestly. This is not just my victory; it's a victory for every person who has dared to dream beyond the conventional norms. I'm honored to be part of a sport that is evolving and embracing diversity.

Michael Schumacher:

Interviewer: Michael, your first public appearance in years, and it's to witness your daughter make history. What does this moment mean to you?

Michael: It's indescribable. Lena has a spirit that mirrors the essence of racing. To see her achieve this milestone, especially in Germany, is incredibly special. I'm a proud father today.

Lewis Hamilton:

Interviewer: Lewis, Lena has made history today. How do you feel about her achievement?

Lewis: It's fantastic. Lena drove phenomenally today. This sport is about breaking barriers, and she's done just that. I'm honored to be her teammate and witness this historic moment.

Mick Schumacher:

Interviewer: Mick, what's it like to see your sister achieve such a milestone?

Mick: It's amazing. Lena's always been competitive, and today she's shown the world what she's capable of. Our family has a strong connection to this sport, and today is a testament to that legacy.

Toto Wolff (Mercedes Team Principal) Reaction:

Interviewer: Toto, a historic win for Mercedes and Lena Schumacher today. What are your thoughts on this achievement?

Toto: It’s an incredible day for the team. Lena’s win is not just a milestone for her but for the entire sport. Michael’s surprise visit added an emotional layer to this victory. We are a family here at Mercedes, and today, we celebrate history being made on our home turf. Lena drove with exceptional skill, and we couldn’t be prouder.

After the historic win at Hockenheim, Lena Schumacher found herself surrounded by a sea of congratulatory faces in the bustling paddock. Among the well-wishers were her fellow drivers, each expressing their admiration for the groundbreaking victory.

Sebastian approached her to congratulate her. "Lena, my goddaughter, you've just made history. I couldn't be prouder. Your driving was exceptional out there.”

"Thanks, Seb. It means a lot, especially coming from you." Then, more drivers started coming over to offer there congratulations.

"Lena, that was one heck of a race! You've set a new standard out here."

"Thanks, Max. I had a feeling this was going to be a special day."

Charles Leclerc, his usual calm demeanor replaced by genuine excitement, joined the conversation.

"Lena, that win was incredible! You've inspired a lot of people today."

"Thanks, Charles. It's surreal, but I'm glad to be part of something bigger."

Fernando Alonso, with a grin on his face, added his voice to the chorus of congratulations.

"Lena, you've made history. This is a day to remember."

"Thanks, Fernando. I just did what I love, and it turned out to be something special."

As the drivers continued to share their words of praise and encouragement, the paddock buzzed with the genuine camaraderie and respect that existed among these competitors. Lena Schumacher's victory wasn't just a triumph for her; it was a celebration embraced by the entire Formula 1 community.

Ah this is my first time writing something, I hope it’s okay. If anyone has any tips please let me know! I hope you enjoyed and it wasn’t a total mess.

#formula 1 #mercedes #lena schumacher #lewis hamilton #mick schumacher #michael schumacher #toto wolff #women in f1 #female!reader #female f1 driver #sebastian vettel #charles leclerc #max verstappen #fernando alonso #german grand prix #f1 rookie #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #mercedes amg f1

82 notes · View notes

carciinogen · 4 months

Text

I've noticed that I enjoy fleshing out my stories as I draw, so here are some:

Story/Character Building Art Prompts

- A childhood memory (Optional: Include a pet, warm colors, or your character's room growing up.)

- Noir time! (Optional: What's your character's cruel underbelly? What are they most ashamed of? Go all out with sharp lines, and heavy contrast.)

- Sea, stars, or sky? Why? (Optional: Cool colors and surrealism would look lovely on this one.)

- Species/Gender/Theme/Outfit Swap! (Optional: What makes your character who they are? What can you remove with them still being recognizable? What's their core?)

- A dream (Optional: Surrealism, streaky lines, and perhaps repressed guilt?)

- How does your character see the world?

- What happens when your character dies? (Optional: What happens to their body? What's on their tombstone? How does everyone react?)

- Skeletal system or anatomy! Do they have any weird traits, or genetic conditions? How does it affect them?

- Someone just threw a banana over your character's head. How do they react? (Optional: Push that expression as much as possible! Make it silly!)

- What occupies your character's mind? (Optional: Draw one of those cross sections of their head with different things labeled.)

- Tragedy strikes! What happens? (Optional: Use muted colors, have fun with blood!)

- Your characters main outfit(s) are in the wash! What's some clothing items they own, but rarely wear? (Optional: Draw them in something way too tight, or way too loose.)

- A close up of your character's eyes, or of am object they cherish. (Optional: Add lots of shine, and vibrant colors!)

- Make a cardboard figure of your character, maybe pose them around your room? ( Optional: What would they do first if they found themselves suddenly very small and in your house?)

- Draw how a song that reminds you of your character or story feels. (Optional: Choose a color that fits the song's tone, but use as many shades of that color as you'd like!)

- RUN! (Optional: Attempt some fluid poses! What is your character scared of? What would they run from, and are they happy about it?)

- Draw some minor characters! Does anyone not get as much love or attention compared to the others? (Optional: Draw them as cool/badass possible, or draw their 'moment'.)

- Draw your character's coolest moment. Is it a triumph? A gory display? Sort of pathetic actually?

- Make a tarot card for your character. What would they represent? (Optional: What would they be the god/ruler/saint of?)

Feel free to use these in any way you'd like, but please tag me in anything you make using them (I'd love to see)!

#.txt #story prompt #art prompt #art prompts #oc art prompt #prompts #angst prompt #art ideas #story building #character building #drawing ideas #drawing inspo

39 notes · View notes

komotionlessqueenmm · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Been enjoying your GoW content. Got anything for Baldur, Magni, and Modi's relationships with their partners? Maybe how they realized they were in love and certain things they like to do with their S/Os?

Aha romantic headcanons! My favorite! You got it Sugar! And I'm glad you're enjoying my content! 💚

Headcanon/Preference # 19

Pictures NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

Year posted - 2022

| Baldur |

• Baldur first realized he was in love with you when you bested him in training. Not an easy accomplishment to say the least.

• He knew he found you attractive, and wished he could feel your touch more than anything, but for you to get the advantage of him in training.

• That look of triumph in your eyes, and brilliant smile stretched across your face. He couldn't help but look at you with adoration, a chuckle escaping him.

• And for a moment he swears he could feel your warmth radiating against him.

• He couldn't resist by turning the tables, and flipping you so he now pinned you to the ground. A smile on his face at the sound of your laughter.

• Now with his face mere inches from yours, he wonders if you could ever love him the way he loves you.

• You answer that question for him by quickly closing the gap, and this time he knows he can feel your warmth, though it felt like a phantom touch, he felt it! He felt you!

• From that point on you start properly courting Baldur, and as time goes on, and your love for one another strengthens, the more he can feel you.

• When he told you about the anomaly you beamed with joy, so happy that he could experience your love the same way you experience his.

• Over time he also found that if he wanted to taste a certain food or drink, all he had to do now was have you consume it first, then kiss your awaiting lips.

• Often makes feasts a little awkward for some people, not that you or Baldur seem to notice, let alone care.

• His favorite things are when you play with his hair, or trace his large expanse of tattoos. Your hands are so soft and warm, so tender and graceful.

• Baldur also adores braiding your hair, it's so soft and pretty, and it always smells like honey and roses.

• You've got him so wrapped around your finger that he'll take you anywhere anytime.

• Wanna go to Midgard and see the Midgard serpent? Let's go!

• Wanna go to Alfheim and see the elves shining light? Let's go!

• Wanna go to Muspelheim and try to spot Surtr? Let's go!

• Seriously if be could take you to Jotunheim he would in a freaking heartbeat.

• Your every wish is his command, and he'll protect you from anything or anyone foolish enough to try harming you.

• You're Baldurs most obvious weakness, but to harm you his a death wish of the most brutal kind.

• He adores watching you in battle, but the moment things turn south, and you're nearly bested, he'll swoop in and defend you to the end.

• On the day of your wedding Baldur finds that he can feel you more powerfully than ever before, as if the curse had been lifted just enough for you to slip your way into his awaiting arms.

• What a good thing it is that he accepted your challenge to train together all those winters ago. Otherwise he might not have ever realized how perfect you truly are for him.

| Magni |

• Magni first realized he was in love with you when you managed to out drink him in a mead drinking competition.

• You were so small compared to him, and yet you drank him right under the table! While also managing to keep upright. What a feat of accomplishment to be sure.

• When the competition was over, you found yourself pulled up onto the table, in order to belt out a song along side Modi no less.

• Magni sat back in his seat, his head all fuzzy from the alcohol, just smiling up at you singing your little heart out.

• You looked so surreal in this light, your eyes sparking as they cast his way curiously. And in that moment he could have sworn his heart stuttered.

• The following day, after consuming much needed nourishments, Magni made his way to your sacred hall. Suddenly finding himself nervous for the first time in his life.

• When he finally found you, his heart seemed to stutter again, as you looked more beautiful now than he had ever seen you before.

• Magni was a mess trying to ask you if you'd allow him to court you, making you blush with a grin, and taking matters into your own hands while he failed to get the words out.

• You had grasped his necklace and pulled him down to your height, where you kissed him passionately, whispering against his lips that you had been wondering when he'd finally ask you.

• Magni fucking loves showing off how strong he is to you, and would move fucking mountains if you deemed them in the way.

• He also carries you around on his shoulder like every-fucking-where. Not that you seem to mind, often praising him for being so capable.

• He intends on showing you the world's, so long as you want to see them. An adventure with just the two of you sounds divine.

• On your wedding day he gifts you the biggest cat he could find, a feline so large it could be mistaken for a dog!

• Magni also loves taking you to the orchards on Midgard, and watching you comb through the trees for the best fruit.

• Of course hoisting you up when something is to high up for you to reach on your own.

• And often stealing the occasional piece of fruit from your basket, chuckling when you playfully scold him.

• He also adores it, but cannot bring himself to admit it, when you pepper kisses across his facial tattoos.

| Modi |

• Modi realized he was in love with you when he finally noticed just how sweet and caring you are with him.

• He had lived in his brother's shadow for so long, and he was used to being looked over by this point.

• And yet here you are, looking at him as if he were the only one to exist in this moment with you, despite being surrounded by hundreds of individuals.

• And in that moment he's suddenly aware of just how sweet you had always been with him. How you always seemed to care about him and no one else.

• In that moment you captured his heart, and he could never thank you enough.

• After hours of making eyes at eachother you finally make the first move, and make your way across the hall, and seat yourself directly into his lap.

• Several others whooped and hollered at the bold move, but Modi couldn't help but blush like a boy in love, ever so grateful his beard was hiding his now pink cheeks.

• One hand had instinctively wrapped around your hip, ensuring you wouldn't fall, and you nestled yourself further into his hold, whispering into his ear about how much you adored him.

• You spent the entire night together, as you had coaxed him into your chambers. And in the morning he was secretly afraid you would regret that decision.

• However when you woke with an adorable yawn, murmured a good morning, and nuzzled into his chest after kissing his neck, he was left dumbstruck.

• You began courting without either of you ever actually asking, not that either of you really felt like you needed to ask.

• Modi is so infatuated with you, that whenever you make him a flower crown, he wears it with pride, especially if you have a matching one.

• You seem delicate to most, but Modi now knows just how fierce you truly are, and he loves you even more for it.

• He also loves gifting you extravagant and sometimes unusual things he collects in his travels. And sometimes he'll have something made special just for you.

• The way your eyes light up with curiosity and happiness, makes him feel all fuzzy inside.

• Many of the others tease him for being so soft with you, especially his brother Magni, but he doesn't care in the slightest.

• He has the one thing no one else could ever take away from him... And that's you.

• On your wedding day Modi gifts you with a golden crown of your favorite flowers, which were soft to the touch, and smelled just like the real flower.

302 notes · View notes

a-s-illustrations · 2 months

Text

Coming Home

Part 2 of Dad Nanami and Son Itadori Series! (i really have to get a better title for this series of works; stick with me guys!)

Story down below⬇️

Nanami's POV.

“I really don’t need that,” Nanami said, pointedly glaring at the wheelchair. The nurse’s smile never wavered. In fact it grew a bit wider which irritated him to no end.

“Please sir, it is hospital policy that patients in your condition be escorted and discharged via a wheelchair,” she said; her voice calm and soothing. Nanami’s lips twitched with a soft huff of exasperation. He was about to contest her again when a bright voice burst in on their standoff.

“Nanamin!” Yuuji’s shock of pink hair appeared before the rest of the boy careened into the room. His training and excellent reflexes saved him from barrelling into the woman by scant inches. His face lit up by the wide smile plastered over his face. This smile, unlike the nurse’s, settled his nerves. “I came to pick you up!”

The nurse jumped on her chance turning to Itadori. “Oh that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, with a note of triumph in her voice, “You can wheel him out then. I’m sure he would love to have his son wheel him out.”

Nanami automatically opened his mouth to correct her when he saw the look on Itadori’s face. The boy’s entire body language had gone from exuberant to almost shyly embarrassed. There was a strange, almost hopeful look in those light brown eyes. He gave a defeated sigh. “Very well,” he conceded. He couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest when Itadori perked right back up and quickly grabbed the wheelchair’s handles.

“I promise I’ll get you the door safely!” he declared. Nanami gave an amused huff as he settled himself into the offending mode of transportation with a slight wince; arranging his long legs onto the footrests.

“Please do,” he responded dryly, “I don’t intend to end back up in the hospital just as I was getting out.”

Itadori laughed and they set out; with Yuuji and the Nurse keeping up an easy banter over his head. He zoned out a bit, letting the white noise of their voice distract him from the slight embarrassment of the ride, only turning his attention back on to focus on the documents that needed signing and to listen to some final instructions from the doctor. As they exited the door he looked up at Itadori.

“How did you get here and how are we getting back?” he asked. Itadori’s fond smile turned immediately sheepish.

“Well..” he began and Nanami felt his stomach sink. He followed the flick of Itatodi’s eyes to see a familiar white blond head of hair sitting atop an impossibly wide grin. The blinding flash of the cellphone’s light made him flinch; one good eye squinting shut on reflex.

“Oh sorry about that!” Gojo’s called out, sounding very much not sorry. He fiddled with his phone and then snapped at least 10 more shots from several angles as he made his way over to them. “Ready to go?”

Nanami reached up to adjust his glasses and pressed his fingers into his bare nose bridge instead. He sighed louder. “Let’s get this over with.”

The drive back was strangely pleasant. The warmth of the sun on his skin; the wind against his face and the fact that Gojo was actually driving at the speed limit. It was surprising that the special-grade sorcerer had chosen to drive himself to pick up Nanami. Gojo’s blindfolded eyes showed briefly into the rearview mirror, catching his attention, as if he could read Nanami’s mind.

“I didn’t think you would want them to see you like this,” he said, his voice serious and almost tender, “At least until you’re ready to show them yourself.” Nanami blinked a few times feeling a little touched by the gesture. The man might have a glaring number of faults but there were times that Gojo Satoru could be a decent human being.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “And please focus on the road now.” Gojo and Itadori laughed; their voices soothing yet another part of his aching heart.

Pulling up at his small house felt surreal. It looked the same and yet; he felt like he was in a dream. Making his way up the short stone walkway; unlocking the front door and stepping into the small foyer. His coat still hung up on the pegs to the left; the side cabinet holding his various watches and envelopes stacked neatly to one side. There were none on the floor, however. His brow furrowed. There should have been mail coming in still when he was hospitalized.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Itadori spoke up behind him, “I…I came in and kinda took care of the place a bit when you were recovering.”

Nanami turned to see the young man looking up at him; shoulder a little hunches and fingers gently tugging at one another. Gojo was sitting in the car still; pointedly not looking at them. He looked back at Yuuji. “Thank you,” he said, smiling a little, “I appreciate that.”

That wonderful smile lit up Yuuji’s face again. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else but stopped; looking over his shoulder at Gojo sitting in the car. Nanami could see the indecision warring across the boy’s face as he turned back to him; unsure of what to say or perhaps how to say it.

“I was wondering…if maybe…” Yuuji started, fingers clenching in a fist at his stomach, “I could…Maybe you’d like some company. After being alone in the hospital all this time.”

A thick lump immediately clogged his throat and he wasn’t quite sure what expression his face was showing right at this moment but he answered; his voice husky and sounding a bit more broken than he would have liked.

“I would like that,” he replied simply.

A soft sound escaped Itadori’s mouth; a cross between relief and a sob. He turned on his heel and ran back to the car; talking excitedly with Gojo for a bit and giving him a chance to compose himself. Gojo waved to them as he drove off; Nanami raising a hand to acknowledge him as Yuuji waved exageratedly at his side. They looked at one another when he was gone; Yuuji’s beaming face to his own haggard one.

“Let’s order in tonight,” Nanami said, turning to head back into the house, “I don’t feel like cooking.” Itadori’s whoop of joy had him smiling, as the boy shuffled past him to get the stack of menus they had collected over the months. As he closed the door behind him; and slid into the high stool at the kitchen bar, looking down at the spread of colorful sheets of paper; Yuuji launching into the pros and cons of the meal choices; he truly felt like he had come home.

#art #artwork #fanart #digitalart #fanart jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk fanworks #jjk fanart #jjk #jjk nanami #dad nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #itadori yuuji #jjk yuuji #yuuji and Nanami #son itadori

33 notes · View notes