Zombie apocalypse with ghost would be crazy because he would find a pretty thing with skills he needs and decide "yer coming with me" without ever asking you, probably would hide it under the guise of protection for you but he gets oddly possessive when other survivors talk to you. A few heavy touches, maybe a drunken makeout, but he never goes far enough to scare you away.
and when you inevitably get bitten, he's already too emotionally attached, can't handle going back to being alone. So he straps a muzzle to your face and a chain around your neck, calls you his "perfect guard dog." And feeds you bits of survivors that try to kill you. He smiles whenever you try to form words, his sweet thing always had so much to say.
...if he still gets a bit handsy with you, then that's his business.
Inspired by a really, really sad movie (If you need the movie it's: Train Dreams)
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake
Warnings: Reader Death, grief/mourning, unhealthy coping dynamics, ANGST
đŹ 8  đ 4  â€ïž 118 · Robin!reader x neglectful batfam · Idea:
đŹ 3  đ 3  â€ïž 272 · Former neglected batkid reader who:
-Tried their best to
It was 5 days later when dick noticed the manor was quiet. Not in its usual quietness, the halls always seemed to hold. Something was missing, and dick was determined to find the source. First, he went to Damian, then tim, then bruce, jason, Duke, and anyone he could find, but no one knew anything or had noticed anything wrong.
It was a week later, and jason had shown up for a family dinner, as he did once a month. His first question was, "Where's the kid?".
"Uhh.. who?" Tim questioned.
Dick paused. Of course, that's what was missing. You were missing how had he not noticed that. Did you run away? No, you wouldn't run away. You loved them too much. Dick had millions of thoughts run through his head. Yes, maybe the whole family bullied you, but you should be able to take it. You're not stupid.
Bruce Wayne had finally realised his youngest child was missing. God, you were only 15 and out in Gotham on your own. He knew you had training, but you weren't the best. For all Bruce knew, you were dead in an alley somewhere. Bruce immediately sent out a search party for you, sending almost the whole of GCPD out into Gotham.
Meanwhile, with you, the joker had unwillingly taken you in after torturing you hadn't worked. You face planted onto the worn, yellow sofa. "Why can't I leave J? im so bored here. You said I could go out today." You mumbled after asking for the fifth time.
"BECAUSE I SAID SO!" he shouted, but after seeing my face, he sighed and rubbed his head.
"Look, kid, you can't go out because I said so now. Just shut up and let me work." The joker had seen all the missing posters for you and wasn't risking letting you back to the bats so easily. Not after he had worked so hard to get a robin. But of course, it had to just be you. The least favourite one. The 'weakest' one of the bunch.
2 weeks later, the search for Y/N was still on. Dick blamed himself. Maybe the bullying was getting too much for you. Or the teasing or the blaming for failed missions, when it wasn't your fault. Jason didn't really know what to say, I mean, it was your fault you were so annoying. He couldn't control it.
But you were still his sibling, and he didn't want to see you fall into the wrong hands like he did. So he had people, criminals alike looking for you. Searching all over Gotham.
The joker knew he was screwed when the red hood himself started getting his people to look for you. All while you were sleeping in the room next door.
It had now been a month since you were announced missing. People had started to stop looking. Accepting that you were dead and wouldn't be found. So the joker started his plan he would start a fight with the bat and use you as a bargaining chip.
The night came fast, with the joker barging into your room telling you to put your suit on. He had made you a new suit. A purple suit with a white dress shirt and clown makeup. Your robin suit had been burnt after the first round of torture.
Once arriving at the city, the joker told you to stay until the fighting began. It had been easy to manipulate and twist your mind into hating the batfamily. You were overall easy to manipulate. It had only taken some torture, some fake videos of them.
An hour into the fight. You joined them. Not one of the batfamily noticed it was you under all that white makeup plastered on your skin. Dick was the first to notice as you and him got into a physical fight. The rain was pouring, smashing onto the floor. Smudging your makeup off.
"Y/N??" Dick mumbled, but you didn't stop attacking him.
"Are you proud of me dickie? Im finally strong. Im not weak like you told me." You shouted.
Dick saw Damian aiming a spear straight towards you. He immediately tried reaching for his comm to tell Damian it was you and to stand down. Dick didn't know his comm had broken when you tackled him earlier. "DUCK!" You didn't understand him and wouldn't listen to him. It was too late for you. You weren't meant to survive in this world.
The spear pierced through your chest at the speed of light. No time to move. No time to doge. With Damian, it was almost always a kill shot, especially when they were hurting his family.
The breath was ripped straight from your lungs violently. But I guess that was all you knew, violence, from the streets, from being robin, from your mother dying. You never wanted to be violent as a child. You swore to your mother that you would be a doctor, that one day you could save people.
You collapsed into dick who caught you and gently pulled you onto his lap. His hands were shaking and covered in your blood as he put pressure on the hole. You tilted your head up towards him. "I dont wanna die." You sounded like a child, but that was because you were. Your 16th birthday was in 2 days, and here you were dying in his arms. The first and last brother you would ever see again. He greeted you at the manor. Now, he'll greet you to death.
He cooed at you and rocked you back and forth, trying to keep his own tears at bay. "Hey, hey, keep those eyes open, little bird." You tried, oh god, did you try. But you were so tired. Tired of the way you were treated. Tired of being in pain. Tired of everything.
That was the last time Y/N Y/L/N would open their eyes. It was 4 days later they would hold a funeral in the Wayne Manor. Nobody knew your favourite colour, flowers or what you wanted your funeral to be like so it was small. A basic coffin dug next to Martha and Thomas's Graves.
Hey man, idk if your goal was to make people cry with that Jack Abbot fic but if it was mission accomplished! *finger guns out of the room while sobbing*
10/10 fic would definitely recommend to anyone needing a satisfying story that ends with you crying
I honestly didnât expect it to get so much love!!! im just obsessed with the Pitt rn and god that man⊠I need himâŠ.
anyways hereâs part 2 to this!!
part 3 here!
jack doesnât know whatâs going on.
ellis came into the er with a gurney, screaming for robby, and then (if even possible) things in the ED got worse.
people scrambling, muffled sobs from nurses and doctors alike as they pass by whoever robby is currently working on. jackâs brows are furrowed, his eyes squinting to try and get a look across the room, but no dice. he starts to think maybe itâs jakeâ and fuck if it is.
âdr. abbot,â samira breathes beside him from where sheâs hunched over their patient. another red, blood covering their torsoâ a gunshot wound through the upper chest. collapsed lung, struggling to breathe, struggling to live.
(like someone else across the room. but he doesnât know that.)
âyouâre good, mohan. keep going,â he says, voice even as he glances down at the residentâs work. she doesnât need him here, really. she was one of the best residents on the floorâ next to you, of course.
speaking of youâ where were you? even if youâd been sleeping during danaâs slew of calls, heâd figure youâd have cracked an eye open by now. you always complained you tossed and turned at night (he had offered to remedy that in various ways.)
âdone,â mohan exhales with a grin as jackâs fingers find the patients carotid, pressing for a pulse. itâs stronger than it was before mohan went to work.
âsound work,â he says, nodding down at her. her grin widens as she straightens up.
âgreat teacher.â
jack chuckles as he waves dr. walsh over. samira starts to walk away, but before he can even register what heâs doing, heâs got a light grip on her forearm. she glances over at him, obviously confused, head cocked to the side as chaos continues around them.
âcheck on robby, yeah? make sure thatâs not jake heâs got.â
samira nods and leaves his grasp, weaving through gurneys and wheelchairs to reach the other attending.
âgot one for me?â walsh has finally made her way over, her eyes assessing the stabilizing patient before her.
âyeah, this oneâs good for upstairs,â he responds, eyes glancing once again to robby before santos starts yelling for an attending.
âbetter go see what she wants before she kills someone,â walsh says, smug grin adorning her lips as she grabs the gurneyâs handles. âgarcia says that oneâs trouble.â
âyeah, yeah. donât you have someone to cut into?â
âoh my god!â
even with all the clamor in the room, samiraâs gasp cuts over the noise loud and clear. abbotâs head shoots up, watching as the residentâs hands fly over her mouth. dana hurries over, a hand landing on the young womanâs shoulder as she pulls her to the side.
âdr. abbot, we need you over at the yellowsââ santos is saying as she catches her breath in front of him, her eyes flitting from the scene across the room and back to the attending beside her.
âabbot!â shen calls as he pushes a gurney through the bay doors âgot another red!â
âare they dying, santos?â he asks, already starting towards shen.
âwell, not activelyââ
âget someone else.â
he hears her faint huff behind him, but itâs forgotten as soon as he gets his eyes on his next patient.
across the room, robby is sweating.
itâs awful, profuse, and he feels like he canât catch his breath. thereâs a ringing in his ears.
heâs never experienced drowning, but he imagines it feels a lot like this.
âcâmon,â he mutters, his eyes watching your face, searching for a sign that you were coming back.
your eyes were closed. your skin was pale from blood loss.
your heart had stopped beating.
ârobby,â dana says, her voice as soft as it can be as she rests a hand on his shoulder.
âno,â he says, and he doesnât need to say anything else. heâs tired. his body aches from the past twelve hours, but he canât stop. this is you. he cannot stop.
somewhere in his brain, he realizes that this is not working. heâs been doing cpr since he lost your pulse, and it is not working. the tube shoved down your throat is helping you breathe. blood is still trickling from your gunshot wound.
your heart is still not beating.
this is not working.
samira is crying quietly behind him. princess has tears on her cheeks from where she stands beside your head, squeezing the bag attached to your intubation tube.
he presses down so hard he cracks your ribs. he cannot breathe. he canât think. he canât, he canâtâ
âway past trauma protocol over there, brother.â
everything comes crashing down around him at the sound of jackâs voice carrying across the room.
he wants to laugh, because doesnât jack know who heâs working on?
would he still be saying that if he was looking down at your pale face, your bloodstained skin?
robby ignores him. shakes his head as if shaking off the words. he canât be done with this, he canât give up on you. he canât, he canât, he canât.
âwe use blood on the ones that are gonna make it.â
jack again. robby wants to scream and laugh and cry. heâs turning hysterical, he knows it. this fucking day.
adamson. jake. abbot. you.
he canât catch a goddamn break and itâs all weighing on him, and heâs about to lose his best friend and his best student andâ
a hand on his shoulder. a firm hold, squeezing his skin so hard it almost hurts.
ârobby,â itâs dana again. âyou gotta let her go.â
he can hear the crack in the steely charge nurseâs tone, and thatâs what really breaks him.
âfuck,â he breathes, and tears are clouding his vision. âfuck.â
danaâs hands land on top of his still moving ones. the ones that are physically beating the heart that lies dormant in your chest. she digs her nails into his skin, and that breaks him from his trance, and he finally stops.
someone sobs nearby. he doesnât look up to see who.
he announces time of death. marks it on the card tied to your wrist.
princess removes the bag from your tube. dana pulls a blanket over your body, tucking it over your head as carefully as she can.
without a word, she and robby wheel you toward the makeshift morgue. you do not deserve to join the other bodies in there. you do not deserve to die.
dana leaves the room before him, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, he sinks to the ground.
âshit,â he cries, shaking hands reaching up to cover his eyes before scrubbing over his face. his trauma gown is covered in bloodâ some of it yoursâ and he tears at the thing as he sobs.
âfuck, fuck,â he canât breathe. adamson, you. langdon and his drugs. jack and his trust. everything, all of it, is overwhelming. a wave too big to jump over or swim under. a current so strong itâs pulling him out to sea before he even knows heâs in the water.
âdr. robby?â
he canât. his eyes are clenched shut, his hands grasping the chain around his neck. he mutters a prayer his grandmother taught him when he was a kid.
âdr. robby,â the voice calls again, and robby recoils as a hand grazes his shoulder, his eyes shooting open as he pushes the offender away.
whitaker looks distraught, a frown forming on his lips as he stands over the older man.
âwe need you out there,â the intern says, his words firm. âyou gotta get up.â
and robby wants to smack the kid, but as he finally starts to take deep breaths again. whitaker holds out a hand. robby (after a moment of contemplation) takes it.
and then he promptly shoves whitaker away as soon as heâs on his feet.
the intern nods, and without another word, leaves the room.
robby takes a breath, then another. he reaches for the door handle, but stops just short of turning it. he turns, his eyes landing on your gurney and the sheet hiding your body.
âim sorry,â he says. it is such a guttural and profound feeling, this sadness that overtakes him as he says those words.
the intense summer heat followed by the buzzing cadence of cicadas, chirping crickets and the rustling of dry leaves from a warm breeze.
everyone in the classroom is splayed out in their chairs like dried out twigs, sighing and heaving because of the heat.
you move your lying head on the desk, to the side. you speak in a exhausted tone, half-lidded eyes. âhow much longer, shoko?â
âyeahh, how longgg?â satoru adds, glasses lying on the tip of his nose, legs fully spread out with his hands in his pockets.
shoko moves one hand from the top of the backrest which she was using to lay her chin on, to pull out her phone from her pocket, flipping it open and checking it. âhe should be here soon, hopefully..â
and just then, the classroom door slides open, the rustling noise of plastic fills everyoneâs ears. all of you perk up like blossomed flowers.
you get up from your desk, eyes set on whatâs inside the bag. âdid you get my flavour?â
suguru smiles, grabing one of the packets inside and handing it out to you. your packet of your favourite ice cream. âthey fortunately had only one pack left and i bought it.â
you swear you can hear the angelâs choir as you spread both your hands out as if youâre receiving blessed food. you brush the packet against your cheek, feeling a little shiver at the cold sensation.
satoruâs behind you, with the same eyes. âtook you long enough, suguru!â he grabs the bag, eagerly pulling out his own pack.
suguru throws one pack of ice cream at shoko which she effortlessly catches. âwell, itâs because you asked for complicated flavours.â he opens his own pack, sitting beside shoko and letting the cool breeze from the ice cream fill his mouth. âi had to search real hard for the kikufuku flavour, you know.â
âoah âeah? âsanks.â satoru replies, with his mouth stuffed with ice cream.
you open your pack too, gently. pulling out the ice cream stick ever so carefully from the packet and humming in satisfaction the moment the coolness touches your tongue, tingling every nerve. your favourite flavour had the perfect amount of sweetnessâjust to your liking.
satoru notices your reaction and he's already walking towards you, looking at you with puppy eyes and a half-finished ice cream in his hand. and you know exactly what heâs about to say.
âcan i get a tasââ
âno.â
youâre quick to reply, turning to protect your ice cream from him. but the endless pleading from him starts to annoy you along with the heat so you finally give in.
âfine. but if you finish it, iâll kill you!â you squint your eyes at him as you give him your ice cream stick.
satoru jolts like a kid, a cute âyay!â leaving his mouth as he brings your ice cream close to his mouth and tasting it.
âwow, this flavour is really good!â lick.
you cross your arms, head up proudly. âi have great taste, see?â
âyeah, youâre so right.â lickâlickâlick.
âand i guess itâs popular flavour too since suguru said only one was left.â you place your index finger and thumb on your chin, thinking.
you immediately get back to your senses and remember about your ice cream and turn to satoru, who already finished half of it. you look at him with eyes wide open and face twitching.
âyouâ! SATORU!ââ you move hurriedly to grab your ice cream.
âheyâwaitââ satoru holds it up, way beyond your reach but you still try to get it, grabbing his shirt and trying to get his arm down and thenâthe constant motion makes satoru drop the ice cream.
everything feels like a slow-mo as the ice cream slowly drops to the wooden floor. your and satoruâs face contorting in absolute shock, jaw dropping to a painful ânoâ.
after the ice cream makes contact with the floor, you both pause like a statue for a few seconds, unmoving. satoru doesnât dare to move a muscle.
shoko and suguru stare blankly at each other before looking at both of you again. they agree that satoru is definitely gonna get killed by you now.
you unclench your hand from satoruâs shirt, staring blankly at the ice cream melting into the floor.
satoru takes the opportunity to move around the ice cream, crouching and observing it on how itâs completely liquid now. he looks up at you, just about to apologise but pauses. oh, he knows heâs dead. he swears he can see actual fire burning around you and gulps. âiâm really really sorryââ
youâre clenching your fists, face twitching as you look down at him.
âSATORUâ!â
2018,
â..s-satoruâ?â
you voices comes out barely as a whisper as you stare down at the unmoving body lying on the concrete.
those very ocean blue orbs which you admired and loved now gray and lifeless. the twinkle in his eyes, long gone as it blankly stares up at the open void above.
your knees buck, dropping to the ground and scraping them from the impact. you couldnât believe it. you didnât want to believe it.
the atmosphere is filled with smoke and ash, broken debris all over the place and you can still feel sukunaâs presence but you couldnât care about that.
your vision blurs immediately and your body is shaking with ragged breathing leaving your mouth. you slowly move your shaky hand to his gently caress his face. cold.
youâre biting your lip hard enough to taste iron to contain your cries.
you were heavily injured from your previous battle and the only reason youâre still breathing was because you knew how to use rct but whatâs the point of it now?
the sole reason you stayed at jujutsu high, the sole purpose of you still fighting, the only person you kept living for was nowâ
you stop your rct. the deep wound at the side of your abdomen doesnât even faze you anymore because thereâs a deeper wound which isnât even physical, hurting you the most right now.
you move your hand to close satoruâs eyes as you slowly place your forehead on top of his, sobbing.
âi.. iâ couldnât p-protect y-youâŠââ your voice breaks, tears pooling down his white locks.
you seriously donât know what to do anymore. you donât even have a reason to keep living anymore.
âi-..iâwish i was s-strong eâenough.. to p-protect⊠y-youâŠ.â you choke, head reeling, eyes closed shut.
âi-iâm s-sorry..ââ you raise head up to look at satoruâs face, blurry eyes softening and eyebrows furrowing deep into your forehead.
satoru was everything to you. you could never love someone more than him. and to think to live a life without him? you cannot. you could not. this was so unexpected, you just couldnât swallow the reality.
the more you sobbed, the more you bled. you press one hand down at the side your abdomen, face contorting in pain as you hiss at the sharp sting.
the future no longer mattered to you, in fact you couldnât even see a future without satoru.
you slowly bring your face close to his, pressing your lips against his one last time, tears dripping down your cheeks and falling on his face.
you move his head gently to your lap, holding your dead loverâs upper half. blood covered fingers run through his hair, softly.
you cough up blood as you begin to feel your consciousness slowly fading, ears ringing.
âiâm never leaving you alone.. âtoru.â you mouth, smiling, eyes failing to stay open.
gn reader, angst? i think. maybe hurt/comfort? but he comforts you while he hurts you
wc: 1.3k
tw: reader death, noncon vibes? but there's no SA or sexual content, he just kills you rather tenderly. no gore. nonmc!reader, but no mc mentions.
disclaimer: SYLUS WOULD NOT DO THIS !!! (at least imo.) he wouldn't go after someone weaker than him with lesser means just to sustain himself. he'd pick someone who deserved it, or he'd enjoy fighting someone powerful like himself and earning it.
this is Evil Mean sylus okay. i'll do nice sylus drinks from you with No Death version someday
i want to get this idea that has infected my brain out even though i should be doing assignments... (i wrote too much again. its been hours.)
You're currently living the most unlucky night of your life, you think. You had tripped into a puddle on your walk back to the bus stop, soaking your pants from the knees down. Shivering cold and exhausted, you walked to your bus stop, only to check the app and see that all departures had been cancelled for the night due to repairs. And that's the last thing your poor phone told you, because it ran out of battery right then.
And that's how you ended up walking home in the dark, underdressed for the weather, wet and miserable. It's now impossible to call for someone to pick you up, though you didn't have anyone to call in the first place. Your phone was also your one way of navigating the city, since you're so far away from your apartment. Now, sans a map, you're completely lost and guessing your way back home, only knowing the general direction and your memory of the view from the bus's window.
You must have made a wrong turn somewhere, because the city slowly becomes more and more deserted until you are in an area completely devoid of cars and passersby. Now shivering from the cold, you were just about to turn around and walk back the way you came when you spotted a well-dressed man leaning against the brick wall of an alley nearby. After a bit of hesitation, you decide the best way to move forward is to just bite the bullet and hope he's friendly.
You walk over to the alleyway, second-guessing yourself the entire way over. Surely he's safe, right? He's wearing a pristine button-up with an expensive-looking wool coat and slacks, and his long, silver hair looks beautifully taken care of. He's got to be trustworthy, or at least sane. All you need are directions; it's not like you're asking much of him. The worst that he'll be is grumpy.
You reach the entrance of the alley. He seems to be a bit busy with something on his phone, and hasn't looked up at you yet. You take a shaky breath in before speaking up in a quiet, unsure voice. "Hello?"
He looks up at you, fixing his striking red eyes on you and raising his eyebrows, seemingly unsurprised by your sudden appearance. He's really pretty. Before he can speak, you stumble through your pre-prepared lines in a wobbly voice, doing a small, apologetic bow. "H-Hi, um, I'm really sorry, I just wanted to ask for directions if- if that's okay? My phone died, so I can't see the map, and..." You trail off, forgetting what else you were going to say. Your hands are shaking badly in your pockets.
"Of course," He responds smoothly, standing up straight and beckoning you forward with two of his fingers. "Come here. I'll show you on mine."
You hesitate for a moment, then obey, walking over to his side. You knew he was tall, but his full height doesn't hit you until you're standing right next to him. He's huge. Good thing he's friendly. At least you get one stroke of good luck where it counts.
He looks you up and down and tsks when you reach his side, seeing you shivering and looking up at him with big watery doe eyes. "Poor thing, you're freezing. Here." He takes off his heavy wool jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. Due to your height difference, it nearly grazes the ground.
You feel a bit of heat in your cold cheeks. It smells like him, and he smells nice. Something you can't place, but an almost addictive scent nonetheless. "Ah, thank you, but you don't have to, it's- it's really okay," Flustered, you try to convince him to take his coat back, but he's already shaking his head. Part of you isn't sure if you'd even let him take it back; it's incredibly warm and provides immense relief from the chill that had reached deep into your bones.
"No need." He reassures you, gently patting your shoulder. "Though we could go to my car, if you want. You would be able to warm up and charge your phone there."
Before you even realize it, you're already nodding. The offer is extremely tempting, even if you know you should be cautious. "I-If it's okay," you mumble, feeling bad for imposing on him.
"I'm the one who offered," he shrugs, unbothered. He gestures with his head towards the alley. "Come. It's faster if we cut through here."
You trustingly follow him into the darkness, not even hesitating to go with him this time. Though it seems like this wasn't good luck after all. Your stomach sinks as the other end of the alley slowly fades into view, and it's a wall. He led you into a dead end.
A mixture of anxiety, panic, and fear starts to build up in your gut, and you take a step back, looking up at the man. Surely he just made a mistake? He lent you his coat, after all, he wouldn't...
"S-Sir?" You falter, your heart starting to pound as he turns to face you. "This isn't- um, d-did you go the wrong way?" He doesn't respond as he slowly approaches you, causing you to take another step back. "I-I don't- I'm sorry, I'm gonna go," you stutter.
But the second you make a move to run, you feel an ironclad grip around your bicep. You yelp and try to wriggle free, but you're no match for even a fraction of his strength. He pulls you back against his chest with a hand over your mouth, gently sitting down on the ground and taking you with him.
"Shh, shhhh," he softly shushes you, moving his other hand from your arm to your waist, holding you tightly and keeping you pinned to his lap. His hold almost feels strangely comforting, though his skin is cold to the touch. "Just go quietly, that's it. No one's around to hear you. Just relax."
You shake your head no, letting out a muffled whimper as you start to cry. The man looks down at you with pity, taking his hand off your mouth and turning you to face him, pressing you against his chest. His coat feels like a weighted blanket, urging you to be pliant and sweet for him. You don't bother to scream.
"I know, I know, sweetie. You're being so good for me." He coos. You sniffle, fat tears dripping down your cheeks. He tenderly curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, tilting your head to the side and baring your neck for him.
"Stay like this, alright? Breathe, it's just a little pinch. Lean into me, I have you." You go easily, and he presses a soft kiss to the column of your throat. His fingers trail up and down your scalp, calming your heartbeat. Your face is wet.
"It feels nice, I promise. I have no reason to lie to you." he whispers. You trust him.
He bites down, and you jerk with pain, your fists clenching. It's agony for a few moments, and you nearly cry out, but the pain soon turns to a gently throbbing numbness. A tingling warmth spreads through your body at the site of the bite, and you go limp. It feels like when someone scratches your back: a comforting, pleasant sensation that helps you settle.
You feel so relaxed, so safe. The world is going dimmer. You think you hear murmured praise in your ear, but you can't really tell. You think you can feel the life being drained from your body, but you don't really mind. If this is how you go out, maybe that's not so bad.
Itâs a bad mission up in the mountains in Spring. You and the team were trekking through the tall grass and inclined hillsides before shots were being fired. Everyone was scrambling for protection or a counter that you all lost each other.
Youâre now sprinting through the lushness of tree branches and weeds. The shots sound farther away now which calls your heartbeat a little. So now youâre trying the comms to see where everyone ran off to in the chaos. âCap? Can you hear me? LT! You there?â The response you get is silence. Now your heartbeat is back to running its marathon.
You try the next best thing and track them. While searching the area for clues, you didnât notice the eyes in the bushes. Suddenly everything goes black and youâre back in the living room in between Johnny and Kyle on the couch. That felt like a really bad dream just now. You shake it off and relax enjoying the moment with them. Your chest feels inexplicably warm while your breathing pattern is slower.
Meanwhile, Johnnyâs feet are hitting the ground hard as he sprints towards the sound of a gunshot and your scream. Branches and leaves are smacking him in the face and tugging on his gear. Kyle can barely keep up with Johnnyâs pace but stays right on his tail. The sight is gut-wrenching for both of them.
Chest red and ripped open by a bullet as you lay on your back. Thereâs a gentle stream right next to you carrying some of your blood off to a place they wonât find. Butterflies flying all around you marveling at the sight. The sun shines down on you as if knowing your body is getting cold.
Even now, Johnny still thought you looked beautiful.
The world seemed quieter after you heard the news, the healerâs sympathetic voice fading into the suffocating silence of ringing ears and thick air that choked your lungs. The RCT treatment wasnât working, and your body was starting to fail you slowly, little by little, until there would be nothing left. You would rot from the inside out, and there was nothing anyone could do.
Shokoâs hand clasped yours, her cold fingers delicate but reassuring as she embraced your trembling skin, the soft murmur of her voice nothing but a muffled blur in the background.
âPlease, there has to be something we havenât tried!â She whispered shakily, trying to keep her composure as her thumb traced gentle circles onto the back of your hand. You couldnât even hear her, you couldnât hear anything over the racing of your heart and the pounding fear and dread that had overcome every cell in your aching body.
It was all too much, too soon. Too young. It was your final year at Tokyo Jujutsu High, and you were so, so close to graduating. Everything you had worked for for the past four years, all the nights you had stayed up studying until the birds sung with the rising of the sun the next day, all the missed events and opportunities for the sake of you passing some insignificant exam you had already forgotten the context of. All for nothing.
The words of the healer rolled around in your mind like a haunting, fading in and out as you tried to process it. Nothing could be done? But⊠why? You were a good person, right? You helped people. You were kind, honest, loyal⊠right? Why? Why now? Why you? What about Shoko? Gojo and Geto? How could you leave them behind?
You had always been the baby of the group (a few months younger than Geto) and they had all always looked out for you. Sheltered you, made sure you ate and slept, and kept you safe on missions. Not to say you couldnât hold your own- far from it- but it was almost instinctual. You didnât really have any family, maybe an odd aunt here and there or perhaps even a cousin, but no one who cared about you, not really. Not like the little family you had made for yourself at school.
A sudden surge of brightness invaded your vision, accompanied by a soothing warmth, and you realised you were outside, suddenly snapped out of your own head by the change in environment, having not even realised you had moved from the bench in the healerâs room. Shoko still had your hand tightly clasped in hers, moving slowly and talking quietly, as if trying not to spook a wild animal. You hadnât responded to anything she had said, but in all fairness she hardly noticed, too overwhelmed herself to take anything personally. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, bottom lip trembling, despite her best efforts to put on a brave face.
âI- I donât even know what to say. Sorry doesnât even begin to cover it.â She whispered, searching your absent gaze for a sign that you had even slightly registered what she had said. Words failed you however, and you just shook your head subtly, staring at the floor.
âDo I- do you- can I call someone? Take you somewhere?â She struggled to find the words, helping you sit down on a nearby bench, not letting go of you as if she was already treasuring every moment left with you down to the second- which, of course, she was. Her trembling hand came up to push a strand of hair away from your eyes, with the delicacy of one cradling a newborn baby for the first time.
âItâs so unfair. Iâm so- just- just so angry for you. You donât deserve any of this.â Shoko sighed, her forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder, inhaling the comforting scent of your favourite perfume. âI donât know what to do now.â
You could hear Shoko talking, but your ears couldnât process it, your voice just didnât know how to respond. How are you supposed to comfort one best friend over your own death, let alone three?
Under the peaceful shade of an old Hinoki tree, accompanied by the gentle tinkling of a few wind chimes decorating its branches, the pair of you sat for a little while, not saying anything, until you felt a subtle dampening on the shoulder of your sweatshirt, and you managed to force yourself to look down at Shoko. She was crying quietly against your arm, hugging your elbow desperately as if to keep you permanently tethered to her. It was a depressing, somewhat disturbing sight- Shoko never cried. She would get emotional over things, sure, but never to the point of actual tears rolling down her beautiful, pale face.
You swallowed thickly, battling the weight on your chest as you closed your eyes for a moment, still sitting stiffly against the bench.
âDonât⊠donât cryâŠâ you mumbled, words slurred with how heavy you felt, the overwhelming pain and fear turning into a sense of complete and utter numbness, as if your mind was trying to shield you from reality. ââŠnot over me.â
Shoko just cried more at your words, throwing her arms around you fully now and burying her face into the crook of your neck, her lithe body wracked with stifled sobs. All you could do was rest your cheek against the crown of her head, weakly patting her leg with a couple of your only functioning fingers left.
The train ride back to Jujutsu High was a silent one for the two of you, only interrupted by a sniffle or two from Shoko, or a small coughing fit from you as you hacked up more of the dark, tarry liquid left behind by the curse into a tissue. Shoko was by your side throughout all of it, diligently nursing you and holding your hair out of your face, while shooting scowls at anyone who dared to make judgmental faces at you. While silent, the journey allowed you to process a little more, enough for you to become somewhat coherent with your speech and thoughts again, and you even managed to give Shoko a small, weak-but-brave, smile.
When she asked you about informing the others of your situation, you smiled slightly and told her you would handle it, not wanting to put that responsibility on her shoulders when you knew she was already feeling like the world was collapsing down on top of her. In reality, you had no idea how you would even begin to break the news, but that responsibility would fall to you, and you alone.
âIâll tell them, okay? Just donât say anything⊠not yet.â You murmured as she helped you down off the train, her arm linked through yours, and the two of you began the slow walk back to the school, with Shoko supporting you the whole way- even as your legs trembled and threatened to buckle beneath you.
âIâll call a taxi, hold on-â Shoko squeezed your arm as she began rifling through her back for her flip phone, but you quickly stopped her.
âNo- no I want to walk. Please?â You pleaded quietly, looking up at her from your stooped position, body trembling under the exertion that you would have previously not even broken a sweat over. âI- I want to walk as long as I can.â
Shoko hesitated before nodding silently, clasping your arm with her hands and gently helping you back upright, concern painted across her delicate features, her Bambi eyes never leaving you.
âNot far, ok? Just⊠tell me when you need to stop. Please.â She smiled sadly, squeezing your arm and guiding you up a hill. The one you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru had played on when it last snowed, where you had rolled around in the powdery white and made snow angels, and had a snowball fight (which Satoru won, of course). Now, it was the equivalent of hell on Earth to your burning lungs, wheezes escaping you as you trudged onward, refusing to stop and let your body get the best of you. At times, Shoko had to look away and bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from bursting into tears again at the sight of you struggling so hard.
After reaching the top of the hill, you practically collapsed, your only saving grace was Shoko still determinedly holding you up. You began coughing violently again, the black substance spurting from your lips before you could stop it, and you doubled over, trembling. Shoko silently dropped down beside you and held a tissue to your mouth, softly wiping at your lips and rubbing your back at the same time.
âI got you. Just take a minute.â She whispered, her voice calming and reassuring as always, even as her heart shattered once again. She pulled you against her, allowing you to rest for a moment and catch your breath, stroking your hair and whispering encouraging words into your ears.
âWeâre nearly there. You think you can stand? I could try to carry you.â She whispered with a sad laugh, her cheek against your head, mirroring how the two of you had sat under the Hinoki tree earlier. You missed the wind chimes.
As the two of you slowly trudged back to Jujutsu High, you thought over the events of the day, trying to recall the patches your mind had blocked out, trying to make sense of it all. Was this it? You were just destined to die, as simple as that? Were you scared of dying? Or scared of being alone? Being left behind? Or going ahead, and leaving your family behind instead?
Before you knew it, you were back at the entrance to the school, where Gojo and Geto were sat waiting on the steps to welcome the pair of you back. Shoko squeezed your arm reassuringly as you put on a brave smile and watched as the two men came over, Gojo full of energy as always, and Geto close behind.
âHey, you!â Satoru grinned down at you, ruffling your hair and pulling you in for a hug, for which Shoko scolded him for being âtoo roughâ. Suguru just rolled his eyes and chuckled softly, hugging you gently after his white-haired buddy had stepped back.
âHowâd it go?â Suguru enquired sincerely, smoothing the hairs on your head that Satoru had messed up with a gentle, deliberate hand.
âAh, Iâm sure it went fine! Nothing to worry about, right?â Gojo smiled cheerily again, although his smile didnât quite reach his eyes. There was something almost desperate in his gaze, like if he forced himself to be happy and cheery enough then nothing could possibly be wrong⊠right?
âActually-â Shoko began, a solemn expression on her face as she held you close to her side, arm still linked through yours.
âIt went fine. Healer was helpful, just got to wait it out.â You smiled, putting on the strongest mask you could muster, and silently praying Shoko wouldnât expose your lies. Thankfully, she stayed silent, but you could feel her hand tense on your forearm.
âOh, thank god!â Satoru and Suguru sighed in relief, Satoru grinning and ruffling your hair once again before pulling you into a hug once more, his arms tight around you despite Shokoâs protests. Suguru smiled and watched, but his gaze kept drifting back to Shoko, who couldnât quite look either of them in the eye. Satoru pulled Suguru and Shoko into the hug, sandwiching you in the middle of all of them, and you let out a small, genuine laugh for the first time in a very, very, long time.
A few weeks passed and you had become increasingly weaker by the day, spending most of your time in bed, however you had simply reassured Gojo and Geto that it was normal and nothing to worry about every time they came to visit. Shoko hardly ever left your side; she missed classes and skipped meals just so that you wouldnât be alone. Much of her life had been reduced to the surprisingly comfortable armchair beside your bed, and wouldnât leave to take care of herself despite you unashamedly begging her to do so. You hated it- being such a burden on her, and despite whatever reassurances she tried to give you, you knew the truth. On the rare occasions she did step away, Gojo or Geto (sometimes both) would come to visit you, with Gojo reinacting his latest missions to keep you entertained, and Suguru reading to you from a textbook or one of your favourite novels so you wouldnât get too bored.
Shoko had been asking you to tell them the truth for weeks, and you assured her you would⊠eventually. You just hadnât quite worked out how to yet. After a few close calls where you nearly just blurted it out during their visits, you decided to hold your tongue even more, worried about what might happen if you spilled without preparing them.
After prepping what you were going to say, you told Shoko you would do it at the end of the week, when they next came to visit. She nodded solemnly, squeezing your hand and brushing your hair back from your face.
âWant me to be here?â She asked softly, her eyes searching yours as if looking for an answer to such an impossible situation.
âNo, no it- itâs probably better if itâs just me. It will be ok.â You put on a brave face, trying your best to smile for her despite the pain you were in. With weak hands, you tried to squeeze her fingers back, but it was almost impossible. Your fingers had turned purple and black at the ends and the mottling was slowly making its way down your hands towards your wrists, and your feet, knees, shoulders, and neck had all begun to do the same. Rotting from the inside out, just like the healer said.
On the Saturday at the end of the week, there was a compulsory meeting for all final-year students to attend (with the exception of you), so Shoko was able to see Gojo and Geto properly for the first time in a while. As they waited for the meeting to begin, Shoko sat picking at her nails anxiously- she hated being away from you.
Gojo noticed and cocked his head to the side, eyes watching her curiously, and Suguru did the same.
âHey, we know youâre worried. We are too. Itâll be okay though, right?â Geto offered her a small smile, reaching across the table to squeeze her forearm reassuringly.
âYeah, why donât we do something? Next weekend, the four of us, we could go to the aquarium? Ooh, the food market? Or my favourite restaurant and a movie? Or-â Satoru suggested excitedly, before being cut off by Shoko.
âSeriously? Next weekend?â She snapped and narrowed her eyebrows, completely shocked he would even suggest that.
âWhat?â Gojo replied softly, his voice cracking slightly like a wounded puppy. Even Geto was taken aback by her sudden outburst, the two of them clueless as to what could have offended her.
âYou seriously forgot? Are you kidding?â She hissed, looking around to make sure no one overheard their conversation. âThatâs the date weâre booked in for the meeting with the funeral home!â
All Satoru and Suguru could do was stare at her, dumbfounded. Suguru was at a loss for words completely, and for once even Satoru didnât know what to say, he just sat there with his jaw dropped and eyes wide with shock. Shoko stared at them, confused, before her face fell with the realisation that she had just broken the worst news the two of them could have possibly gotten- angrily, with no warning or care. She stood up, hands over her mouth, and shook her head, before turning on her heel and sprinting away. It took them a moment of complete silence, before Gojo and Geto looked at each other, and took off after her.
Shoko burst into your room, shaking violently and apologising more profusely than she had ever done before, collapsing onto her knees beside your bed, tears rolling freely down her cheeks. You were disoriented by her sudden arrival, having just been asleep, and stared at her with a confused expression as she clasped your hands in hers.
âI canât- âm so sorry, you- oh god-â she spluttered out, burying her face in your palms, shaking. You had no idea what she was talking about, too weak to try to comprehend the sudden disturbance. More of your skin was mottled and darker now; the hollowness of your cheeks and sunken eyes was a nauseatingly corpse-like sight.
Not even a minute later, your bedroom door burst open and Geto and Gojo spilled in, practically shoving each other out of the way to get in first, before coming to a screeching halt as they took in the scene before them. Shoko, a crying heap on the floor, clinging to you- or whatever was left of you. If it wasnât for the fact you were looking up at them, blinking slowly with subtly furrowed brows, it would have been easy to assume you were already dead.
Satoru gasped and stepped back, almost falling over his own feet, and Geto was visibly beyond broken.
âI- I donât- you said⊠you said you were getting better?â Satoru whispered, not trusting his voice as he shook and stared, tears glistening in his beautiful, ocean eyes. Suguru couldnât even speak, couldnât breathe, couldnât do anything but stare as he took in the sight before him. One of his best friends on the entire planet, reduced to a shell of who you once were. You reeked of curses, the scent and sight of which had been covered by your and Shokoâs RCT, trying to keep your secret up as long as you could, but you were just too weak to do so anymore.
Suguru took one step forward, then another, his legs trembling as he reached out but hesitated, as if afraid you would disappear if he touched you. He sank down to the floor beside Shoko, staring at you silently as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
âWhy? Why didnât you say anything?â Geto whispered, his voice broken and wavering. Slowly reaching out, he placed a gentle palm over where Shoko held your hands, silent tears now crawling down his face. Shoko was still sobbing beside him, overrun with guilt and devastation.
Satoru was the only one still standing, his glasses off as he tried to process the information his Six Eyes was giving him, able to see fully now that the techniques covering up your illness had finally faded. He let out a stifled sob, realising the truth, and paced the room, chest heaving as if he was starved of oxygen, trying to stop himself descending into a complete panic.
Wordlessly, he walked around your bed and stood behind you, before shakily climbing into the bed and burying his face into the back of your neck, sobbing into your skin as his arms cradled you. The room was filled with tears and quiet sobs as the group of friends grieved the reality they were faced with, all while you lay in the centre of them all with a weird sense of clarity, and peace.
Yes, you had promised Shoko you would tell them. No, you didnât have the strength nor the courage to do so. You messed up, and this was what resulted from it. Weirdly, however, it almost felt better this way. The big secret was out, and you could finally rest without worrying about breaking the news. A gentle wind chime sung in the breeze of the open window, a gift from Shoko to you, and you closed your eyes and just breathed. Took in the love and warmth from the three people that loved you most in the world, even though your soul was beyond freezing; your body beyond exhausted.
The funeral was two weeks later.
A small ceremony, with just the three friends, a few other classmates, and a couple of the teaching staff from Jujutsu High. No family showed up to say goodbye, despite efforts to reach out from Geto, who was the only one still somewhat holding things together.
Shoko was a complete emotional mess, sleeping in your bed every night, smothering herself in your perfume, curling up in your hoodies. All to keep you close, to keep you real. She cried almost constantly when she was alone, but tried to keep up a brave face whenever someone else was around (it never worked). Everything reminded her of you, and it was sickening. The idea that this was all that was left of you, an empty room with no one left to care, it shattered what was left of her heart.
Satoru was destroyed. He had very few close friends or family members, so loss had never truly affected him before, but this⊠this was the most pain he had ever experienced. It felt like someone had broken completely through his infinity and carved his heart out of his chest, the physical ache of your absence a white-hot agony in his very soul. He pulled away from everyone, disappeared most days, slept for a couple hours every other night, and refused to eat. Sometimes he would cry, tears dampening his blindfold, but only when he was sure he was alone. He had to keep up appearances- he was the strongest, after all.
Suguruâs grief was quiet. Unending. It manifested in a simmering anger that bubbled up under the surface, oftentimes having to remove himself from the room before he snapped at someone. His eyes were dark, empty. The sparkle (you) had died out, and nothing brought him joy anymore. He tried to keep up appearances, keeping on top of his work, organising the funeral on Shokoâs behalf after she had a breakdown while reading the first document, and forcing food into Gojoâs hands whenever he saw him. It was all he could do to keep himself busy, to stop himself from falling apart completely.
After the viewing, funeral ceremony, and cremation, Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru gathered together around your cremated remains. Silently, they began separating the larger fragments of the remaining bones with shaking hands, carefully passing them between each other with chopsticks and into your beautiful little urn, the one Shoko had carefully chosen in your favourite colour, each of them silently paying their respects to you in their own way. Shoko had tears streaming down her face silently, only the odd hiccup or sniffle breaking the peaceful silence in the room. Traditionally, the deceasedâs family members were the ones to perform this sacred practice, but they were as close as you got to family, perhaps even more so, and that was good enough. More than good enough.
Once the bone fragments had finished being collected and arranged in the urn so your soul would be upright for eternity, they all sat back, tearful and overwhelmed, but with a strange sense of⊠tranquility. Like now they could finally remember you properly, no more traditions or rituals, just pure love and admiration for the person who meant to much to them.
âDo you⊠do you think we⊠would⊠did we do well?â Shoko sniffled tearfully, struggling to find the words through her grief. She looked at Satoru, who was crying silently beside her through his blindfold, and Suguru who had a few stray tears crawling down his cheeks. The three of them sat in sombre silence for what felt like hours, not having the strength to stand or keep up appearances anymore. Just grieving for all of the memories that had been stolen from them from the past, and the ones stolen from the future, too. You deserved to be there, to be making them laugh when they cried, to be wiping away their tears with gentle hands and comforting them at their lowest. Not this. Not reduced to ash and preserved forever in an urn. You deserved more than that. You deserved your life.
Eventually, the three of them made their way back to the school, not speaking or acknowledging anyone, just a procession of devastation in black attire. Of course, everyone at the school knew by now, and kept a respectful distance between them so as to not interrupt their grief. By the time they made it to the corridor your room was located in, the trio noticed a small huddle of people gathered outside your door. When they approached, the students all gave them a respectful bow and cleared away, allowing Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko to see what they had left behind.
A beautiful memorial, just for you. White flowers, candles, incense, pictures of you and the amazing things you had achieved, little offerings like chocolate and even a tiny teddy bear. Shoko laughed tearfully, sinking down to her knees in front of the tribute, still clutching your urn tightly in her hands, before reaching out and trailing a trembling finger down your cheek in a picture where you looked as happy as you ever did. It was the day you had passed an exam you had been stressing over for months, and you were grinning from ear to ear. The trio were in the background of the picture, all laughing as you celebrated, and even in the black and white ink of the photo, your soul had never looked more colourful.
Satoru and Suguru knelt down beside her, admiring the memorial with fond gazes and gentle smiles. True, genuine smiles, for the first time since you had left. Satoru raised his blindfold as he took in your beautiful life through the pictures, not wanting to forget a second about your existence.
âSuch a remarkable person.â Suguru murmured, smiling down at the picture of the two of you. He cradled the frame in cautious hands, memories of you two flooding back. He remembered the day the photo was taken- all the way back in second year- a beach trip. The photo showed you clinging to his back, shrieking with laughter as cold water from the sea splashed around your legs. It was such a beautiful, pure memory. âThat was a good day.â
Satoru hummed in agreement, and Shoko picked up a photo of the four of you in your formal dance outfits. You were holding them all together, pride and centre, with your reached round as wide as you could and managing to reach around Satoru and Shoko on your left, and Suguru on your right. The four of you were laughing so hard you could see the slightly reddened faces even through the distant camera focus.
âWe were so happy.â She whispered, finger tracing your tiny cheek as she laughed tearily once again.
âWe will be again, one day.â Satoru murmured, squeezing her hand. Suguru sighed and nodded solemnly, leaning into his friend as Gojoâs arms came up around the two of them beside him.
A sudden noise came from inside your room and they all startled slightly, eyes flicking up to the closed door as if expecting you to be hiding behind it, as if this was all some elaborate joke. Deep down, of course, they knew it wasnât, but the moment of pretending made it hurt all that bit less, and a bit more.
âIs that music playing?â Shoko whispered softly, standing up on shaky legs and clutching your urn to her chest, and her two friends stood up behind her as the faint musical notes caught their attention too. Shoko slowly opened the door to the (naturally) empty room and stepped inside, Satoru and Suguru following, the three of them transfixed on the source of the beautiful melody.
After falling silent in conjunction with your passing, Shokoâs gifted wind chime, hanging in the window, had begun to sing again.
A.N. ~ woo, first fic published! thank you so much for reading, if you enjoyed please let me know!! (this was really scary and I would appreciate the confidence boost) mwah Ê·ᎄ·Ê
all written content belongs to @dorayakipancakes. i do not own the original characters!! please do not feed my work into ai, repost, translate, or copy it, I will be very sad
