#almost cried a few times out of sheer hopelessness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itoshi-s · 1 year

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I think you know enough hq characters at this point so, who do you think in haikyuu would fuck their step-sis and why is it tsukishima (also ushijima but hes more lowkey)?? - 💔

🥲 if u were to crack my silly little head open and take a look inside. this would be the only thing u see. just pure hell pure chaos nothin else. NONNIE.. do u really want me dead :(

cw stepcest, dubcon, timeskip tsukki n ushi

sob sniffle sister fucker tsukishima. i am literally going to lose my mind thinking about him. he’s so mean, shrugs all your tears and whining off whenever the sibling banter pushes a few too many buttons. it’s just how he is and you’ve grown used to it — his snarky comments and how he could spark all sorts of deepest insecurities w just a few teasing, light hearted comments. but kei nii doesn’t rly mean that, and you know it. it’s just how he is, with the kindest heart buried somewhere deep under the cocky demeanor — that’s what you think, until you come home from uni for holiday break and go out one night.

you take a few shots too many, those airhead friends of yours that kei never really liked busying themselves w some random guys, and you end up calling him to pick you up. there’s some creep at the club that just doesn’t let up, you’re a little scared, and your phone is almost dead. he’s the only person you really know that’d actually pick up at this late hour and come get you — he’s your brother after all. and yet, you regret ever calling him in the first place as soon as you get in the car, listen to him calling you even dumber than he’d thought of you, jaw slack and eyes firm yet tired behind his glasses as he drives. you hold back tears on the way home, and for the very first time in your life, you feel like kei nii might actually hate you :( and that he meant every single jab he’s gave you throughout all these years. he tugs you inside the house, unaware of your silence, and grumbles something about u being lucky that mums not home to see you this fucked up. you sit at the edge of your bed, shaky fingers struggling to undo the straps of your heels, and kei lets out an exasperated sigh as he crouches down in front of you. he slaps your hands away, works on unclasping the straps and tells you you’re hopeless. you’re just so annoying with how reckless you’re being, he’s got practice tomorrow morning and yet its 3 am and he has to deal with you — careless as always. he sets your shoes aside and is about to get up and leave when he hears the choked little sound. a tear or two falls on his hand and he looks up — breath hitching in his throat upon his step sister crying. he’s seen it so many times before, being the very cause for your tears more often than not, and yet this time, he’s confused. you wipe at your eyes, a poor attempt to hide the heartbreak, and swallow back little muffled cries. you tell him you’re sorry, that you never wanted him to hate you. you’re sorry that you’re annoying, sorry that you’re being a bother as always. kei watches in sheer astonishment as your bottom lip wobbles, still glimmering with your gloss. just don’t hate me, nii chan. he almost feels bad, for the first time in forever, as you sit there in your tiny black dress, with those pretty long falsies on, and cry your heart out — for him. its the exhaustion, he thinks, it has to be as he reaches a hand up and rests it on the back of your neck. he calls you silly, wipes a thumb below your eyes and furrows his brows a bit — he could never hate you, why’d you even think that? you really are a dumb thing. he’s just tired and not thinking straight, kei’s sure, as he leans up to press his lips to yours and taste you. your tongue is heavy with intoxication and shock, and he makes out the faint vanilla of your lip gloss and remnants of liquor as he kisses you, languid and sloppy, something to slow down the haywire in your mind. he could never hate you, he repeats, easing you down on the bed and hiking your dress over your hips — groaning when you give him the prettiest wide eyes, glossy with tears still but oh, so hopeful. kei nii is a good brother, despite his sharp tongue and teasing nature — and makes sure you never, ever doubt his love for you again :(

ushijima though,, he’s a whole another story you’re so right. i’m p sure he doesn’t even give you any remotely dirty thought — anything that would be immoral considering your relation. you’re his little step sister, and there’s nothing more to it. sure, he’s never been too close with you — always solely focused on his career — but he does appreciate you. you’re nice, sweet and caring with the way you always pick him up from the airport or fly over to some of his games. (you always cheer for him the loudest, and grin wide as you tell the couple sittin next to you that the ushiwaka is your older brother.) you always welcome him with the warmest hug, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, and laugh as he squeezes you — welcome back, nii chan, i missed you lots. he’s no fool and sees how you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, too. he’s aware of all the looks you get when you two walk down the street and how it’s hard to keep count of all the boyfriends you’ve mentioned before. for some reason, none of them lasted, though, and yet you’d always brush it off and give him a small smile when he asked if you were okay. wakatoshi doesn’t know a lot about girls in the first place, but you’re a whole another enigma. like i said, i think he wouldn’t even dare think of you in any other way than purely platonic — and so, you render his entire giant frame putty when you first crawl into his lap with that pretty little glint in your eyes. barely a minute earlier you were just scrolling down your phone, w your legs in his lap as he goes through his calendar — next thing he knows, his little step sister is grinding down on him, breath minty on his lips as you moan. large palms rest on your hips and it takes all your willpower to stand your ground, considering he wouldn’t even have to put any work into pushing you off. he fixes you a confused look, eyebrows knit together and voice low when he asks what are you doing, why are you— you cup his handsome face in your hands, a manicured thumb pressing to his lips and it shuts him up ridiculously quick n effectively. s’alright, nii chan, it’s nothin’. you need him bad, you tell him, and prove your point by the sinful roll of your hips against his hardening cock. you see he wishes he could deny you, that he could tell you that it’s wrong and fucked up and that you can’t be doing this — cause you’re siblings, blood bound or not — but his silence gives him away. always so blunt and straightforward, your nii san now sits completely quiet, and you know that the cogs in his mind must be struggling, but if he had any second thoughts abt all of this — he would’ve already told you. but he doesn’t tell you anything, doesn’t speak at all before he exhales and pulls you flush against him, lips finding yours with way too much ease. toshi nii doesn’t have to speak at all — his actions do it for him, as he has you all spread out n making the prettiest noises for hours on end that day </3

#✧.* ✉ zari’s mail: 💔 anon #nghhhh THIS HAS ME SLOWLY GOIN INSANE SHSJJSXHXJSI #kei especially </3 he’s got me all choked up i love love looooove him he’s so mean #ushi bein all ffed up in this head of his he’s so cute. i wanna bite him #but in all honestly some of the others i’d think would ABSOLUTELY dick down their stepsis are #kags.. 10000% you cant tell me otherwise #AND last but def not least the one and only oikawa tooru. NGHHHHDHDHDH #everyone always bein head over heels for him but they don’t know he only has eyes for his lil sis </3 najdhakshsksksjsj STOOOOP #he’s so deranged . this clicked in my mind sooooooo quick u get me ??? she’s always there to give him all the praise he needs #there’s no one else that matters for her. only tooru nii #always </3 and he goes completely n utterly dumb on the ego trip #thx for comin to my ted talk. if anyone wants to elaborate feel free #now brb gonna go sob abt this #haikyuu smut #hq smut #tsukishima smut #ushijima smut #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #★ ‧ ₊ after hours

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ateez-himari · 3 months

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Will To Power Dance Break: Wings

Mm, the little blue bird that's lost its voice...

CW: Talk of mutilation and blood

... ♡ ...

Throughout the pitch black streets only occasional flashlight beams illuminated every narrow alleyway, unaware that merely a few feet away their target was crouching impossibly low behind a dumpster, attempting to silence choked sobs. In her shaking hands laid a captain's insignia having been clearly ripped from its wearer's jacket, the only piece left of the group - aside from fistfuls of white feathers - she failed to help.

Seonghwa's lingering touch now seemed to burn guilt right through her skin, the young woman's mind replaying the scene countless times - shouting voices alerting others of their whereabouts, her blissfully unaware self skipping towards her friends, the eldest's horrified gaze as he roughly shoved the maknae into a cramped space between two run down shops. Completely frozen in sheer terror all she could do was watch as the group fought to the extent their muscles would allow them to, the same person who had saved her turning around one last time with a finger to his lips as if begging their precious blue bird to stay hidden.

'You seem awfully far from your nest, birdie.'

The taunting voice triggered an almost instant flight response deprived of any rational thought and the second she managed to squeeze through the alleyway's tight walls - losing a few feathers in the process - the carefully crafted cage closed in on its prey, dozens of men adorned in black blocking every inch of the ground around her. Their movements were eerily synched as two of them twisted the defenseless bird's arms painfully tightly behind her back, the feeling of cold chains digging into her limbs' skin stopping any futile escape attempt.

Despite the knowledge that all was hopeless her body would not stop writhing against its bindings, the guilt driving every movement - his eyes had silently begged her to keep standing, his back had shielded her from their sight and his legs ran to lure them away. Pleas for help echoed uselessly in the empty streets, heard only by a singular figure standing in the darkness who she attempted to reach out to only for his head to shake and form to disappear as quickly as it had come.

'I can't...I have to get out...' She cried, resistance stopped by a heavy hit to her gut which made her knees collapse onto the pavement. 'I have to go save them...if I don't...they'll have sacrificed themselves for nothing...'

Five years ago they had all freed one another from the burdens of life, meeting in a rundown warehouse they were quick to make into a home as they let music and laughter carry their every step. Then they went from mere rebellious teenagers to the liberators of a world that lacked the very things which had saved them; emotions and artistic expression. Now eight of them had lost that freedom to feel, the freedom that gave them the impression to soar above the very world and only one remained, the one who had brought them together by inadvertence - a girl whose tears now burned her eyes.

Time seemed to slow when an excruciating pain rippled through her entire body, the spots in which blue wings once proudly sat now tainted a sickening shade of red as heaps of blue feathers fell to the ground. The scream of pain ripping through the young woman's throat was muted to her own ears, feeling only the strenuous vibrations as warm blood trickled down her mutilated back in a twisted symbol of her now lost freedom.

With the very notion of time distorted by the unrelenting pain forcing a heavy haze into her mind she could not tell how long she had been kneeling in a puddle of blood and feathers, only that every single one of the perpetrators had time to leave. Weakening by the second she could not even gather enough energy to attempt an escape nor move her hands that were now almost completely numb due to being strung up in such a manner; all she could do was mumble apologies over and over to the members she would never save.

We all try but we lose emotion...

#ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez 9th member #ateez extra member #ateez female member #kpop oc #HimariLore♡#ateez lore

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bad-thought-overflow · 1 year

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So... I'm a furry. I don't participate much, but I do love the community and a lot of what comes from it. I only preface with this because anyone in the community who reads this will probably have some idea where this post is going the second they read the next line...

I played Adastra. And it's destroying me a little.

I got recommended a long video essay about it, along with a beastars video from the same dude, and I got curious enough to check out the game before watching the video. It was... incredible. I've played other visual novels, even some other furry ones that had the same general vibe Adastra oozes with, but it felt different. The characters started to really grow on me, even just twenty minutes in on the spaceship I already wanted things to work out for Amicus and my character. I was intrigued by the seemingly simple premise, and delighted as more and more wrinkles were layered in.

But then it started to hit more emotional beats. Amicus coming out, and his awkward attempts at flirting, and then the first kiss. I was swept up in the fairy tale of it all, even as I saw warning signs coming up in the background. By the time the second trial concluded, I almost thought the game was going to close on a happily ever after, which only made the morning of the third trial hit like a freight train. It stopped being about flirting with a sexy wolf man, instead I became invested in the world and characters as the coup ramped up. And I cried for the first time during the first visit with Amicus in the dungeon.

When all the parent stuff began happening, with the monitor actually adressing and guiding my character, I again thought I understood where the story was going. I instantly agreed to follow the big plan of theirs, terrified not of my character dying but rather having to witness Amicus breaking down in a full scene. The awful day started with that ominous message from the monitor, and I was convinced that the bad things happening were just a vision, or that the monitor would turn back time so I could stop it. But it just kept moving on, and I got worried. I reached the big fight, and saw the death flags coming a mile away. I was fine though, I should have been, I picked the right answer didn't I? The monitor seemed to think so.

So I felt betrayed, and hurt, and angry, when the scene played out and it all became too much. I cried again, and kept crying straight through the entire scene as Amicus's dialogue ripped out my heart. I was still wiping away tears when the perspective changed and Amicus decided to confront the parents. Somehow, I felt like it would still work out for the best, but then the conversation turned sour. Amicus was faced with his impossible choice, and I felt that same hopeless anger when he accepted. I cried again when the two were reunited, even though I as the player knew that something was still boiling under the surface.

The final chapter of the game, I felt the same unnerving tension that my character was grappling with. I just wanted things to work out, so badly that I hoped the game would throw me a bone and let me abandon the real plot in favor of just existing with Amicus. No such luck. I almost cried out of sheer frustration when the special date went wrong, and then cried for real during Amicus proposing. At that point, I finally got where the ending would leave things, I knew it would be heartbreaking just like everything else, but just like my character I just wanted to enjoy whatever time was left.

The ending came too fast, and after too long all at once. Because I accidentally picked the positive ending, I was treated to the vision of the perfect future. I cried, easily envisioning it and left still wanting more time to enjoy it; and then the game ended for real, and I was left on the end screen of Amicus on the throne. I couldn't stop crying for another few minutes, half out of genuine sadness that the story ended the way it did, and half out of a strange hope that I could get something like that some day. I really just sat there, pining and wishing that one day I'd meet someone who I could experience everything the game forced me through with together, even the heartache if it meant I could understand the empty feeling in my chest. I only considered the game's other elements, the twisted fated lovers story puppeteered by what are basically gods, the resentment I found myself feeling after I realized how manufactured my and Amicus's agreement was to the grand scheme of things, after a day full of that same pining and half-contained sobs.

Adastra is a 10/10 experience. I'm glad I could experience it the way I did. That said, the aftermath has me hesitant to recommend it to anyone.

#taluspost #this really is just a game review huh #I havent talked to anyone about it and needed to word vomit #Dec18

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themrsackerman · 3 years

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Angel of Paradis

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warnings: Spoilers from Season 4. Mentions of gun violence, blood, death

A/N: Now I know EP8 is only the beginning of the end but goddamn it hurts!! I love potato girl and losing her just tore me to bits. So here, take this. Its my way of coping I guess..

Levi is pissed off. From the start, he disliked the plan but it wasn't like Eren gave you all much of a choice. So the moment the kid got on the airship, he was welcomed with one of the captain's infamous kicks. The cockpit wall quakes with the impact and Hange sighs, shooting you a look. "I think you need to get out there and make sure Levi doesn't kill Eren, Y/n." She says exasperatedly and you nod, rising from your seat next to Onyankopon.

"I'll be right back." You say and she flashes you a knowing grin, shaking her head slightly. Even the commander knows you're the only one who could reign in the Levi Ackerman.

You see Levi on the corner glaring at Eren as he was being tied up. You sigh heavily, seeing Eren steaming as he heals. Jaw probably unhinged from the captain's kick. You sat beside him on the bench and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his face clean from dirt and blood.

"Y/n-san." He greets you monotonously and you gave him a kind smile. "Hey, kid." You greet back, tucking loose strands of his now long hair behind his ear.

Your heart aches at the sight. He used to have so much fire, had the same will to fight for humanity that you only ever saw in your mentor, Erwin. Now all you see is ember of pure hatred and cold blooded need for revenge. "I'm glad you're okay." You murmur. Eren's blank stare softens for a second and a small smile hints the corner of his mouth. "Glad to see you too, Lieutenant." He says quietly and out of the corner of your eyes, you see Levi roll his eyes and make a disgruntled sound as he turns around.

You walk up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Levi meets your gaze with his dull gray ones for a second and sighs, his expression softening too. At this you smile a little and say, "We still have a long battle to fight ahead of us, Captain. Things might not have gone smoothly, but we won today." You remind him and as if proving your point, right on the other side of the ship you hear the soldiers celebrate as they reunite.

"You're right." He agrees. Levi then takes a deep breath and grabs the hand you placed on his shoulder so he can bring it to his face. He turns his head and placed a chaste kiss on your palm. Your heart flutters at the gesture. It isn't grand but was still something you couldn't quite get used to. You two never declared your love for one another, never really had the luxury of time or chance to do so, but small acts like this was enough to let you know that your presence provided him the calm he sorely needs. And that was all you want. Be his peace in this war.

"I'm going to check if the rest of the squad made it back up." You tell him, grazing your thumb on his lower lip and he reluctantly lets you go. "Be back as soon as you can. Meeting will start as soon as this fucking monkey heals enough." He says, cold glare flashing at the other Jaeger who is a pile of steam still laying on the ground. "Okay, I'll just check on Lima's squad. They're the last ones to be picked up supposedly." Levi nods again and watches you leave before turning to talk to Yelena.

You smile past Floch and the other soldiers who are weeping, hugging and making their tributes for those whom had fallen in battle. You then saw three of the soldiers you've grown close with through the years. They were huddled in the corner, sharing a hug.

You hear Jean say in protest, "Dont hug people with that lump ass iron gear on.", while shrugging off Connie's arm. You chuckle at this and tackled him back to the embrace. "Shut the hell up, Jean. I would take Connie's armored hugs any day!" To which the trio whines out, " Lieutenant Y/l/n!!" when you squished them tight.

Although the new gear designed by Hange was in deed not made for hugging, you four relaxed in the uncomfortable embrace. Grounded by the fact that you all made it safe despite the battle you had just gone through. Connie and Sasha smile up at you while Jean tries to still look annoyed, although the softness in his eyes says otherwise.

The soldiers left below start coming in and the cheering just grows even louder. You didn't have the heart to stop them because you yourself are quite happy that today was a success despite some casualties. Now, you have the War Hammer titan as well and were able to destroy the fleet. Now, the Eldians' chance stands higher against this damn war.

"Did you hear that just now?"

Sasha asks out of the blue and you turn to her in wonder. Honestly you couldn't hear anything but the soldiers celebrating. But out of the lot of you, you know Sasha's sense of hearing is far superior than all of you combined. So you take a step back from the crowd and actually looked around.

"Hey, quiet down!!"Jean yells over the chanting but Floch shouts, "Make some noise! Victory!!!" And was echoed by the rest as they embraced and pumped their fists in the air.

"Hey!" Jean tries again only to be pulled by Connie to the side to ask, "Isn't Lobov-san still out there?"

"No, I think he came aboard." Jean says thoughtfully and this was when something didn't sit quite right with you. Commander Lobov is a man that is hard to miss. And with his dedication to this mission to make up for his years being a useless garrison, he would be amongst the soldiers cheering the loudest for the said victory.

Your instincts has never failed you before and its the very reason why you are so good at your job and able to survive this long. But sometimes, you wish that your instincts aren't always right because you always perceive danger. And right now, every fiber of your being is telling you something is fucking wrong.

That if you were to look out the airship right now, you'll probably see the commander lifeless.

Or worse, an enemy may have made its way up to the ship.

Your blood runs cold for a split second before you acted purely out of instinct. You shove Sasha to the side, dreading as you head for the airship's side door and at the exact moment.. someone aboards.

Your gaze met the kid's muddy brown ones. It was determined, filled with fury and you saw that there isn't any trace of hesitation as her finger pulls the trigger. You knew you didn't stand a chance judging by look on her face and her sure aim on your torso. The word of warning you want to let out was caught in your throat as she fires.

You remember seeing those crazed brown eyes and then the ceiling of the airship the next. The sensation of what can only be compared to fire piercing your skin spreads through your chest and insides like molten metal. You hear the indistinct noise of the soldiers' voices grow louder yet muffled at the same time around you.

From happy cheers to manic, hysterical screaming.

You couldn't catch your breath at first and you aren't sure from which. Was it from falling flat on your back? Or was it the searing pain that made tears leak from your eyes?

And then above the chaos, you hear your three closest comrades call your name in unison.

"Lieutenant Y/n, hey!!!" Connie's frantic voice shrill through the limited space of the ship. "Hang in there, hey!" You feel him rattle you, placing his rough calloused hand against your cheek. Jean's panic stricken face comes to your field of vision and you whimper, "A kid." You gasp. "In the airship."

"Bandages! Now! We need to stop the bleeding!" Jean commands shakily and the rest of the soldiers that aren't capturing the two intruders scramble to get the med kit and the captain.

"Y/n-san, please hold on until we make it to the island!!" Connie pleads but hopelessness crawls his veins as he sees your blood flood the wooden floors.

"Keep him safe." You whisper out to nobody. The captain in mind. Your eye lids grow heavy but you didn't want to close them. No. You can't die. You promised him.

"Don't you dare die on me, Y/l/n." His voice echoes in your mind, compelling you to keep breathing despite how excruciating it feels.

Sasha who was frozen at first, snapped out of her shock as she hears Connie's voice call your name out of sheer panic when your eyes fall close. She then runs to meet the soldier carrying the bandages and was at your side in an instant. With trembling hands, Sasha tries with all her might to wrap you up and stop the bleeding.

"No, no, no, no!!" She starts sobbing while watching the bandage turn red, your gushing blood seeping through no matter how tight she puts the wrap around you. "Y/n-san, no, you can't leave us like this." Sasha hiccups, wiping her tears hastily before grabbing your now cold clammy hand and pressing it to her face. "Please!" She cries, eyes falling close.

If you hadn't pushed her, if you didn't step in her place, it would have been her that got shot. Guilt rakes through her as she watches you desperately fight for your life.

You can feel yourself drifting and you felt helpless. You then meet Sasha's, Jean's and then Connie's gaze, muttering with your remaining strength, "Protect him." And it was no request but an order.

Jean stumbles away, his hands going over his ears, unable to stand your labored breaths and Connie and Sasha's whimpering. Jean felt like hurling when Floch turned the kids to him. The other responsible for you being on the brink of death.

But to those two kids, they are the enemies who wreck havoc to their hometown. Floch wanted to kill them and throw them out but what good would that do? Would taking their lives save yours? And knowing you, who practically treat soldiers like them like your kids even though you were just a few years older than them, you would be disappointed in him at the mere thought of hurting these kids.

Jean can almost hear your angelic voice, "They're just children." You would say. So with a vexed expression and heavy turmoil growing within him, he ties them up and led them to where the captain and commander are.

Jean swallows hard when the captain's cold gaze met his and asks, "Who are these kids?"

By the looks of it, he still does not know.

"They killed Lobov-san and used his gear to come aboard." A lump forms in his throat, suddenly can no longer meet the captain's gaze. "A-and this one here, she.. shot Lieutenant Y/l/n."

Levi's eyes widen. Did he just hear Jean correctly? You? Shot? You were with him just minutes ago. No, how is that possible?-

"Captain, I-I don't think she'll make it." He continues, voice faltering. The grievance in Jean's face make Levi's blood run cold. He stumbles forward a bit as Armin and Mikasa run past him but he seemed frozen in his tracks.

No.

You got hurt but you'll pull through this. You always have. You promised him. And you are one of the toughest people he knows.

Levi tries to convince himself as he glared back at Zeke. He tries to distract himself from the cold fear of losing you with the blinding rage he feels for the Beast Titan wielder. But then, the door swings open again and Levi felt something terribly wrong right away.

And when Connie appears with tears sliding down his face and says,

"Y/n-san.. is dead."

Levi's entire world shifts.

Everyone was shellshocked for a moment. Because how could you be gone just like that? When you were just with them just minutes ago providing comfort to all of them? Passing by and giving them a wave of peace and calmness like the angel that you are.

Hange wobbles, her knees growing weak and its as if someone had punched her in the chest. The pain reminiscent as the day she watched Moblit vanish before her eyes. You were her right hand woman. Her confidant.

Eren's head hung in disbelief. His mind clouded by your kind smile just earlier and telling him you're actually glad to see him. Him. The monster who had just devastated a whole town and killed probably thousands of people. He thought that by now, he'd have gotten used to losing the people around him but losing you is gutting him. Its was like losing family. A sister.

"Connie.. did Y/n-san have any last words?" He asks mindlessly, wanting to know what your last thoughts were. Connie blinks through his tears and his eyes drifts to the captain, whose face was undreadable and knuckles threatening to split open at how tightly his balled fists are clenched.

"She said.. 'Protect him.'" Connie mutters and Levi's facade breaks.

The mob of weeping soldiers parted as the captain staggers to the back of the ship where you lay. Armin and Mikasa were still curled up beside you, their faces red and puffy from wailing. Both of them reluctantly stood up and stepped away as he walks closer. His gaze was still trained on the ground as he puts one foot in front of the other.

He shudders and stop midstep as his foot steps on the crimson stained wood. Before he knows it, he falls on his knees with a thud. Your pale hand comes into his field of vision and he takes a deep shakey breath as he reaches for it. His eyes darts everywhere but your face. The bandage on your middle, the boots on your feet that he had his fair share of shinning as his token of appreciation for you making his morning teas, the emblem of the Wings of Freedom embedded on your breast plate.

Your hand felt cold and stiff against his. A stark contast of the warmth it exuded on his cheek just moments ago.

"Y/n?" He croaks.

Suddenly his breathing shallows as the deafening silence stretches on. He can still smell you but can no longer feel you although you're right fucking there. Levi wanted this to some fucked up nightmare. But then, as he steels his nerves and finally looked at your face, his heart shatters.

Your hair is uncharacteristically dishevelled, e/c eyes lifeless, pupils middilated and your mouth parted ever so slightly.

Levi pulls you in his arms frantically, plethora of would have been and should have been anchoring his heart into a sea of regret.

He should have never let you out the damn door.

He should have held you tighter.

He should have you talked to you longer.

He should have told you.. he loves you.

He never even got to tell you.

Levi's face crumples, face reddening before a resentful yell erupts from him. The soldiers wince at the sound. It was pure agony and it pierces through each and everyone of them, bringing the lot of them back to tears if they ever stopped in the first place.

The entire flight back to Paradis, Levi held you the way he wished he did while you were still with him.

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

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High-school Ori fluff? One where he's drawing in his free period, you're to sit beside him (assigned seats) and when you do you accidentally nudge his hand, causing him to ruin the drawing. You tried fix it only making it worse then it leads to Ori chasing you around the halls ending in a kiss? Please if you could.

Dear anon, let's kick off the last round of the Marchmadness with your prompt 💕

@fellowshipofthefics here...we...go

Mistakes and liquorice

Words: 2.1 k

Characters: Ori x reader

GEN; Fluff & sunshine

The study hall was some kind of purgatory of its own, crammed full of students chattering in lowered voices until you had the feeling of stepping into a beehive of terror.

Without a second thought, you decided to sit in the classroom where your next lecture would be held; at this time, there should be nobody and you could relax somewhat before being exposed to the incessant sniggering and whispering of your co-students again.

It was with surprise and dismay that you discovered at least one other soul in the room though; while you were still debating to leave – yet again – or to sit as far away from the boy as you possibly could, someone cleared their throat.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” the professor chided you, “but as you’ve decided – just like young Ori here – to disregard the rules this brazenly, you can sit right next to him. That way, I have both of you in my line of sight.”

Now you had to stay, you thought – slightly annoyed – and, on top of that, you’d have to sit wedged into that tiny bench with another person, that person; it was utterly absurd, really, as the whole classroom was empty.

Moreover, you were a good student and there was truly no reason to monitor you like a criminal; what did he expect you to do? Set fire to the classroom?

Your being such an obedient and unproblematic student as described though also meant that you shuffled to the much too narrow desk almost instantly and slid onto the uncomfortable bench without a word of protest.

You knew Ori from sight; you had classes together after all, but, on the one hand, he was not the kind of kid one would easily approach and, on the other, you were not the kind of person to just walk up to someone to befriend them either.

Sometimes, you truly wished that either one of you was different but – this much you were painfully aware of – if this had been so, you would not have developed that ridiculous novel-heroine crush on him; it was his respectful and slightly shy demeanour that inspired all your daydreams as much as it was your own social incompetence that made him – inoffensive and gentle – the perfect candidate for aimless, fruitless, hopeless pining.

As per usual, he was doodling something into his notebook which you only saw because your head was turned into that direction while sitting down and not at all because you were being nosy, which you never were, honest to God.

For a few minutes, Ori – not even looking up once to so much as pretend that he had taken note of your being condemned to sit glued to him – went on drawing while the professor seemed very busy reading a substantial tome of tremendous academic importance; all the while, you were helplessly counting the polystyrene tiles on the ceiling.

The silence was grating, scratching along your skin, and pressing against your eardrums inexorably until you felt like screaming nonsense just to break the spell of somnolent immobility around you.

When it became too much to bear, your body betrayed you in a terrible slip-up, twitching and jerking, which effectively jostled your bench neighbour into crossing out his whole – carefully crafted – drawing with a fat, black line.

“Oh my God,” you cried out under your breath, “I am so sorry.”

In a moment of sheer and utter panic – while Ori just stared at you blankly as if he had not been aware of your presence hitherto – you took the stylus from him and tried to change the line into a blossoming tree branch.

Unfortunately, your own artistic talents were about as developed as your impulse-control, hence how you ended up making everything so much worse, the grotesquely shapeless blooms now obscuring whatever had been the original subject of the delicate and – as far as you could make out – beautiful drawing.

“It’s okay,” Ori mumbled, visibly unsure if he should take the ink and the paper away from you or if he should let you go on in your chaotic, destructive expression of clumsy creativity.

“Do you want a fresh sheet?” he asked after a moment of watching you stare miserably at the ruined drawing, tears of embarrassment and frustration collecting in the corners of your eyes like dew on a flower petal at sunrise.

“No,” you sighed, “I am so sorry.”

Maybe, you thought, you should just skip the next class; the mere idea of sitting another hour next to him – his warmth bleeding through your clothes into your flesh – was unbearable after what you have done.

He must have thought you such an obnoxiously careless, thoughtless, mindless creature and – even though you tried hard not to draw any attention to yourself – he would not be entirely wrong.

It was a curse only you yourself knew about and that you could not outrun, try as you might, that made you end up – surrounded by broken glass and destroyed hopes – wherever you went; no matter how pure your intentions and how earnest your desire not to fuck things up, you always managed to ruin everything.

“I don’t feel so well,” you whispered and – when the teacher didn’t react in the least – you simply got up and almost ran out of the classroom.

Shame was painting red blotches across your face and your cheeks by that time, and the tears trembling on your lashes spilled like drops of rain racing one another on a cold car window.

As you walked – without even knowing where you were headed – you cursed yourself viciously; of all the people you could have offended and injured today, it had to be the one person you had purposefully avoided all this time.

The very idea that he could get to know you and hate who and what you were was too much to even imagine and now, you had managed to get to that – probably inevitable – result within less than half an hour.

One movement, one single second of inattention, one moment of letting your self-control slip had been enough to cause a major catastrophe.

Fast steps resounded behind you, and you quickened your own pace; it would be just like you to be caught crying like a ninny in the hallway and become the laughingstock of the whole school within a few crucial seconds.

In your mind, you could already see the videos circulating on the popular platforms and picture the heinous comments of complete strangers who ate other people’s souls for breakfast.

“Wait!”

Good Lord in heaven, you thought – panicked – now this boy, the very victim of the pestilence of your bad timing and your renowned clumsiness, was pursuing you in the corridor; you knew for a fact that he was also meant to be in class at this very moment, so – not only were you skipping class – you were also making one of the best students beside yourself miss it. Pestilence and plague upon you!

“Wait,” he repeated, a slight whistling undertone in his pressed voice now, “where are you going?”

Was he running after you to scream at you for ruining his drawing? Was it that precious to him? Maybe you should stop and face the music.

When you whirled around – quite abruptly – the two of you collided with such vehemence that the breath was knocked flat out of you but, before you could topple backwards, his arms were thrown around your body which was just as surprising and slightly painful as the crash itself.

“Oh sorry,” he panted, still out of breath, and you could feel the warmth of his words ghost over your face; Ori had been sucking on a liquorice, you thought vaguely, caught in the soft darkness of his gleaming eyes.

“I…you looked distressed,” he finally said, heat creeping into his cheeks as you just kept staring up at him without uttering a word, “and I wanted to tell you not to bother about that stupid doodle. It was two parts boredom and one part wanting to try my new fountain pen.”

“I am so sorry,” you ground out, the words feeling heavy and sticky on your tongue as his freckles gleamed like golden stars; the more you tried to focus on them, the more they blurred into a kaleidoscope of warm colours swirling on the milky background of his skin.

“Don’t be,” he grinned, “I’ll keep it now, of course, for your tree…”

Oh that blasted tree, you made a face – shame and fatigue twisting your features into a grimace – and shook your head: “I am not you; my artistic talent is abysmal.”

The powdery pink – sunset hues playing on a face so exquisitely delicate – deepened with pleasure and, out of nowhere and for no good reason whatsoever, you wondered what it would feel like to push yourself up onto your toes and pluck that timid half-smile like you’d once reaped wild berries: by the agility of your tongue and the strength of your lips.

This was absurd; you had seen Ori a thousand, maybe a few thousand, times before and only very rarely had the question what it would be like to kiss him crossed your mind.

Of course, he usually also was not holding you so cautiously as if you were a dream about to dissolve in the cold morning air.

Now, it was all you could think about though, and it was outright distressing just how much you yearned to know.

“I liked your tree,” he said, and the curve of his smile seemed to beckon to you like the oasis to the weary soul lost in the desert.

He had ever been pale and quiet, studious, serious, and just the tiniest bit dull as far as you could remember; Ori had been like a piece of furniture one passed by every day without ever paying any attention to it but that would startle one immensely if it was ever to disappear suddenly.

“Yeah, sure,” you laughed, remembering all too well just how ugly and crooked it had been; you felt – once again – clumsy and cumbersome held like that at a truly alarmingly negligeable distance from his clean, gentle face.

Proper, polite, and private, Ori had never struck you as someone who’d pursue girls in the hallway to lie to them about their awful drawings.

“Ok,” he admitted, “it’s not a good tree…but we can work on it?”

Forgotten was the class you were meant to attend all at once; it took all your energy and willpower not to hold on to his shoulders and brush your lips against his, chasing the faint echo of liquorice that still perfumed his words.

“Never mind the tree,” you babbled while your breath hitched in your throat as it had grown tight and parched with a thirst that was inexplicable and torturous to you.

“Never mind the drawing then,” Ori replied, cocking his head ever so slightly like a curious bird perched just out of reach; he was not out of reach though, his warm breath spun a cocoon of intimacy that descended onto your senses, muffling everything else.

“I’ve never noticed how handsome you are,” you verbalised thoughts that barely grazed the surface of your consciousness before leaping free. You were lying of course, but the reality of his flesh on yours and his breath turning the air into liquid fire in your lungs was beyond everything your cautious mind or untouched heart could ever have conjured up.

He gave a humming chuckle in lieu of a reply and, as if he had read your thoughts, his face dipped towards yours. Maybe, your gaze darting between his glistening eyes and pale lips for minutes on end might have been a factor in his decision as well, you thought before every semblance of a rational reflexion dissolved like mist in the sunshine.

His lips were warm and astonishingly soft against yours, the faint aroma of liquorice tingling on your tongue as you pressed against him the way your body had ached to do for quite a while now.

It was over as quickly and abruptly as it had begun, but when you pulled back, his eyes seemed blurry and a tad veiled as he brought his fingertips to his lips as if to make certain that he had not but dreamed that kiss.

“Hmmm, as we are – apparently – skipping class,” you grinned, your heart thumping wildly in your chest, “we might as well go to an abandoned classroom and find out if you can teach me how to draw more convincing trees.”

“Trees?” Ori blinked in confusion, “Yes, sure, sure, we can do that. If that’s what you want.”

With a low, throaty chuckle, you took his hand and led him down the empty hallway.

“No,” you laughed, “drawing trees is the last thing I want to do.”

“Ah…so…” Ori blushed something fierce as you pushed open the door to a room you knew would be empty for at least another half hour.

“Yes,” you grinned, “do it again!”

Thank you so much for your prompt and sorry for holding it back for so long...

Here we go with a series of Ori-stories for the last round of Marchmadness <3

Lots of love to you, dear anon ❤️

#ask #request #prompt #IDNMT answers #Ori #Ori the dwarf #Ori propaganda #fotfics #fotficsmarchmadness #Ori x reader #highschool fluff

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howtosingit · 3 years

Text

Fic: The Nightmare That I Call Myself

His t-shirt is sweat-soaked and twisted around him, refusing to allow his chest to fully expand the way he desperately needs it to. He tears away at it, trying to get it off, and a sob climbs up his throat and out of his mouth when it starts to feel hopeless. Finally, after an hour or a day or maybe even a year, it comes off. TK throws it across the room with a yell before he wraps his arms around himself, his fingernails digging into his sides.

He just wants to feel something.

But that’s not really his problem right now. He’s feeling too much, all at once. It’s a stark contrast from the nightmare that he found himself trapped in moments ago; a nightmare where he felt absolutely nothing. Because he was absolutely nothing.

Because he was dead.

Or, five times TK wakes up disoriented and confused, and one time he wakes up knowing he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

Mature | 5.1K | Also on AO3

A/N: Haven’t written a word in two months, got this idea when I woke up this morning and now here we are, 10 hours later. The muse does what the muse wants. Hope you like it!

------

Someone’s screaming.

TK’s eyes fly open, the red and blue lights from his lamp in the corner adding to the confusion that he’s currently feeling. It feels like there’s an elephant sitting on his chest, and when he closes his eyes again to try to make it all disappear, all he sees is smoke and dust and collapsing buildings on fire.

It’s the same thing he’s been seeing on TV for the past few days, even though his mom changes the channel as quickly as possible whenever he’s in the room.

“TK!”

His eyes open again, finally focusing on his mom as rushes into his bedroom, the sudden lights causing him to blink against their harsh brightness. Before he knows it, there are arms wrapped around him, firm hands on his back, and a soft voice in his ear.

“It’s okay, buddy, it’s okay. You’re okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

That’s when he finally realizes that the screams are coming from his own mouth.

He stops instantly, his throat raw, but he can’t quiet the sob rising in his chest. He buries his face in his mom’s shirt, pressing against her, kind of hoping that he can disappear into her, where he knows he’ll be safe.

He closes his eyes again, and a new image appears behind his eyelids:

His dad. Covered in dirt and dust and blood, his firefighter’s helmet falling from his head, his eyes dark and empty and so different from their normal blue.

“Dad,” he croaks, his voice weak and full of pain. His heart hammers in his chest, thud thud thud. “Mommy, where’s Daddy?”

“Oh, honey, he’s okay,” his mom says, her fingers running through his hair and scratching his scalp gently, a shiver running through him. It helps to pull him out of his head, the fear disappearing at her touch. “He’s just in the other room, he’s okay.”

“Can I go see him?” he cries, the words getting lost in another sob. She understands him, though, like she always does. She’s his mom, so she always understands him.

“Of course, sweetie,” she says, holding him closer. “Let’s calm down a little bit though, before we go see him. We don’t want to scare him, do we?”

TK shakes his head, following along as she shows him how to breathe deeper. He can still feel his heart pounding in his chest, but it doesn’t feel as heavy now. The elephant has been replaced by something smaller. A gorilla, maybe, or something like that. He gets so distracted thinking about all the different animals that he’s seen at the zoo, that he almost doesn’t notice when a different pair of arms find their way around him.

He does recognize the smell, though. His dad’s soap has a really special smell.

“Daddy,” he cries, more tears finding their way to his eyes as he pulls his head back to see those familiar blue ones. They aren’t as bright as they were before, but they’re more alive than they were in his nightmare. His dad gives him a small smile, pulling him into his arms and against his chest.

“I got you, buddy. I got you. I’m right here.”

He focuses on the sound of his dad’s heartbeat, hears the way the soft words rumble through his chest. His mom is still there, too, her own fingers crawling up and down his back.

Eventually, they all lay back down, his body tucked between the two of them. He reaches out, grabbing on to each of them, pulling them even closer.

He hears them whispering above him, but their voices sound like they’re at the far end of the big, long tunnel, so he doesn’t really know what they’re saying. He watches the lights from his lamp slowly dance across his ceiling, watches as they catch on the corner of the twin-sized firetruck bed that surrounds them on all sides.

The next morning when he wakes up, he tells his dad that he wants to change his room. There’s a sad look in his eyes, but he just gives him a hug and helps him pack some things away.

-----

Someone’s knocking on the door.

TK lets out a groan, his stomach rolling. Even through his eyelids, he can see that the sun is up and pouring in through his bedroom windows, his mother’s sheer curtains doing little to keep the daylight at bay. The air around him is stale, sweaty, and smells like sex and weed. He scrunches his face, trying to stave off the nausea.

The knocking gets louder, and that’s when he realizes that it’s not at his bedroom door, but further away. Probably on his mom’s front door. Fuck. He’s going to have to get up and answer it before the neighbors complain. He really doesn’t want to have to deal with his mother when she gets home.

He throws the thin sheet off of himself, the blast of cool air making him aware of his nakedness. The back of his hand comes in contact with something solid to his left and he opens one eye to see tanned skin covered in various back tattoos under a head of shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. His gaze moves lower to take in the bare ass resting on top of his mother’s 800-thread count sheets, the outline of a handprint barely visible on one cheek. With a disgusted scoff, he pushes himself up to sit at the edge of his bed, the stranger now behind him and out of sight.

He instantly realizes his mistake as his stomach somersaults and he barely has time to notice the empty vodka bottle on his nightstand next to a little bag of white pills before he empties it onto his rug-covered floor.

He’s stumbling naked down the hallway towards the bathroom to stand under the water for the next hour or so when his brain refocuses on the knocking on the door. Now that he’s out of his room, he can hear his phone vibrating incessantly from the pocket of his jeans where they lay on the floor by the couch. He can now also hear a familiar voice yelling through the door to accompany the knocking.

“TK! I know you’re in there, I tracked your phone,” his dad yells, his knocking turning into an intense pounding. “Open the damn door!”

With a “Calm the fuck down, Dad,” TK stomps towards the door, throwing it open. He can’t help the satisfaction that crawls through him at his dad’s shocked face as he takes him in. TK doesn’t know why he’s so surprised; it’s not like this beats the time his dad accidentally walked in on him having sex with his high school boyfriend a few years ago.

“Jesus Christ, TK,” his dad huffs, pushing him back into the apartment and slamming the door behind him, obviously trying to maintain some sense of privacy. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

TK doesn’t reply, just stands before him with his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Well? You gonna say something?”

“What are you doing here, Dad?” TK scoffs, rolling his eyes. He immediately regrets it, as the action causes a sharp pain to flare up behind his eyes. Remembering his previous goal of drowning himself in the shower, he turns to walk back down the hallway. “Mom’s out of town, you don’t have to pretend like you give a fuck about me. There’s no one around to impress.”

“Yeah, I know your mom’s out of town, that’s why I’m here,” his dad says, and TK can tell from the consistent volume of his voice that he’s following him towards the bathroom. “You obviously can’t be trusted by yourself for more than a day.”

“Oh, fuck off,” TK yells, rounding on him. “I’m right here, aren’t I? It’s not like I’ve gone missing and you’ve found me dead in an alley or something.”

His dad glares at him for a moment. Then, with a raise of his eyebrow, he points a finger at TK’s face. “You’ve got some vomit on your chin.”

TK feels a blush crawl up his neck, but before he can say anything, his dad turns towards his room, pushing open the door and walking in like he’s been invited to do so.

“Dad, wait!”

It’s too late. His dad has already stepped inside, taking in the scene. TK cringes as the smell of vomit hits his nostrils.

“This a new boyfriend of yours?” his dad asks, gesturing to the naked guy still passed out in his bed. TK says nothing, having no desire to share that he has no idea who the guy is, or that he can’t even remember his name.

His dad circles around the bed, his hand coming up to cover his nose as he spies the puddle of puke on the floor.

“You’re paying to have that rug cleaned,” he says, turning towards the large bay window and throwing it open.

“Where do you get off telling me what to do? This isn’t your house anymore, Dad,” TK spits out, but it comes out with less fire than he had hoped. The smell is really strong here, and the room has started to spin again. He starts backing away towards the bathroom, knowing he’s going to need the toilet in just a minute.

“Not a boyfriend then,” his dad says, ignoring his question. He’s made it over to the TK’s side table, where the evidence of his drug-induced evening sits. He watches as his dad grabs the bag of Oxy, waving it around before pocketing it. “Your mother is going to kill you when she finds out you brought your drug dealer into her house.”

“That’s mine, I paid for that,” TK says weakly, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn’t want to be here right now, he doesn’t want to be anywhere right now. He wants the room to stop spinning, he wants the stranger in his bed - the one he let touch him in ways that make him suddenly feel incredibly unclean - to disappear, and he wants his dad to stop looking at him like he’s regretting the day he was born.

(But hey, TK thinks, the familiar nasty voice in his head taking center stage, at least you finally got his attention.)

His dad is across the room and standing in front of him by the time he mentally checks back into the present moment. Before TK can say another word, he’s shoving a pair of clean boxers into his hands, a look of intense disappointment on his face.

“Take a shower, son. You stink.”

And with that, he steps out of the room, leaving TK to stare at his vomit-soaked carpet, his unwanted hookup, and every other regret he doesn’t have it in him to name.

------

Someone’s pounding on the wall behind his bed.

He comes to with a gasp, lurching forward in his bed. His breathing is out of control and he claws at his chest, trying to get a grip on his lungs, to squeeze them until they burst. It’s not like they’re working correctly anyway, he thinks as he struggles to breathe through an airway that he swears can’t be any wider than a coffee stirrer, so what’s the point of having them at all.

He just wants to feel something.

Because he was dead.

The image of his prone body on the floor, unmoving, just a mass of useless limbs and wasted potential, flashes through his mind, unbidden. He chokes out another sob, reaching up to fist his hands in his short hair, his nails scratching at his scalp. He recalls a time in his life when his mother would run her fingers through his hair, grounding him with love-laced scratches. How it would settle him, how it would focus him, how it would remind him that he wasn’t alone.

He’s alone now. She’s not here. It’s just him, and the addict screaming and pounding on the wall in the room next door.

Her face comes to him, the one she wore the last time she saw him, the lines of graceful aging marred by fear and hurt and hopelessness. All for him. All because of him. All because he couldn’t get his shit together. All because he couldn’t handle his cushy, privileged existence, with his middle-to-upper class accepting parents.

All because he didn’t want to do it anymore.

Except, he does. He really fucking does. He’s felt that high of life, the one that he can get without the help of pills. He’s loved before, he’s given his all to love, and sure, it didn’t last, but it was good. It was freeing. It was worth it.

He wants to find that again. Find the people that make it worth it again. Find his purpose. He knows it’s out there, he knows it’s waiting for him to get his shit together.

He’s twenty years old and he’s nearly killed himself, but he’s not dead yet. He’s not done yet.

He’s not fucking done yet.

So, yes, he’s here and he’s alone, with only thin walls and an uncomfortable mattress to call his own. But, if this is what he needs, if this is what is going to help him find out where he goes next, then it’s worth it. It’s all going to be worth it.

He cries himself back to sleep, back into the darkness, back into the moments that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

This time, though, as he gives himself over to rest, his lungs expand to fill his entire chest, his airways now clear and fulfilling their purpose, reminding him just how alive he is.

------

Someone’s shouting.

There are a lot of voices, but they all sound muddled and confused. There are hands on him, pressing down hard against his chest, and now that he’s noticed them, he also notices the most intense fucking pain that he’s ever felt in his life, right below his collarbone. It hurts so bad that he wants to scream, he even goes as far as opening his mouth to do so, but he’s not sure if anyone hears him; he’s not even sure he hears himself.

His eyes flutter open when he’s suddenly lifted into the air, the pain spiking to new heights. He sees shadows crawling across his vision, shapes that amount to nothing more than blobs of mass. There are so many of them, and they’re all moving so fast. Too fast for him to really pinpoint.

“TK!”

Those two letters - the two letters he knows better than any others - swim through the molasses to punch him in the eardrum, and he instinctively looks towards the sound. He finds his father there, his face pinched and sweaty and terrified. It’s a familiar face, one he saw just a few months ago actually, one that he never, ever wanted to see again.

Fuck. Another overdose.

But even that doesn’t explain the sharp pain in his shoulder. He looks around, trying to figure out his surroundings, trying to make sense of all of this. He’s clean, he knows he is. It’s been hard, but he’s in a better place now. He’s with better people now. He’s truly felt like he’s finding himself, finally, after all of these years.

There’s no way he threw that away. There’s no way.

He forces himself to focus, to figure out what the fuck is going on. He turns to see Captain Blake on his left - well, his left, her right, maybe, he doesn’t know. She’s barking orders, and he follows her arms down to find her hands pressed to his chest. He wants to shout at her, tell her that she doesn’t need to push so hard, that she’s really fucking hurting him, but he can’t speak. Just like his scream before, his voice is trapped inside of him.

He looks up to see Marjan above him, lines of tears running down her face. She doesn’t bother to wipe them away, just lets them fall as her bottom lip trembles. He focuses on it, wants to tell her that it’s going to be okay, wants to reach out and rub her shoulder gently. But, as hard as he tries, he can’t seem to do that either.

He’s stuck in a world where he can’t do a single damn thing.

Suddenly, the blurry ceiling above him gives way to what looks like a wood-covered porch, which quickly gives way to the night sky. It’s all fuzzy, but he swears he can see stars up there; he never really got to see stars before moving to Austin, save for the inconsistent trips he would take outside of the city.

He likes seeing the stars. He likes the open vastness of it all. It makes him feel equally too large and too small, which is honestly a really freeing, confusing feeling.

There are blue and red lights painting the trees overhead, and he’s reminded of his childhood room, with his firetruck bed and his color-changing lamp that would soothingly move from red to blue, just the way he liked. It feels so long ago, but he remembers it so clearly. It’s the only clear thing he can see right now.

He can tell he’s fading away again, his short reprieve to the land of the living coming to an end. The voices are still both loud and muted, but he no longer cares what they’re saying. The pain is reaching his maximum capacity, the edges of his vision turning white.

It’s okay, he thinks. It’s all going to be okay.

He feels his head drift to the right, and he swears he sees a familiar face, proud nose and perfect lips under a head of soft brown curls and soulful eyes that have seen deep into the very heart of him.

He smiles, perfectly content with Carlos being his final thought before he goes.

------

Someone’s coughing.

It takes him no time at all to realize that it’s him, that he’s the one hacking up a lung. He feels like his chest is on fire and he can’t take a full breath. There’s heat all around him, flames painting his surroundings an unrecognizable, hazy orange. The bed is gone, the dresser is gone. It’s all vanishing, lost to the fire.

But that’s not what causes him to panic, that’s not what stops his breath. That’s not what threatens to shatter him completely.

Carlos is among the flames.

They’re crawling up his body, latching on to his blue shirt, the one that TK thinks makes him look completely unreal. Well, truly that’s anything he wears, but blue always makes Carlos look soft.

It makes him look like home. The greatest one that TK has ever known.

And now, TK watches as his home catches on fire, unable to move, to step forward, to pull Carlos to safety. His boyfriend watches him as the flames rise up between them, his eyes wide and full of fear, his chest heaving from the breaths that he just can’t seem to catch. TK wants to yell out, tell Carlos to come to him, that they can get out of this together if they just hurry, but every time he goes to speak, a cough climbs up his throat, burying the words inside of him.

He knows he’d be crying if he could, but the flames have stolen his tears from him, too. The flames are going to take everything from him. Everything that matters, packaged inside one wonderful, miraculous, unexpected person.

And before he can even blink, Carlos is gone, swallowed whole, no trace of the man that TK chose to give his entire heart to. He’s gone, and TK desperately wants to follow him.

There’s a creak above him and he has just enough time to look up before the entire ceiling comes down on top of him, granting him his final wish.

He jerks awake, the coughs relentless as he folds himself in half, trying to remove the smoke and ash from his body. It’s dark in the room now, the fire finally extinguished. Except, no, that’s not right, because as he looks around, he sees that everything is intact. Nothing burnt, nothing broken.

He reaches out blindly, trying to find Carlos in the dark, but he’s met with only air. He turns, taking in the empty space on the mattress beside him, the untouched pillow.

“No,” he gasps, shaking his head, and finally the tears come, no longer frightened of the untamable heat. “No, Carlos, no,” he sobs, pulling at the sheets, hoping that he can find him hiding somewhere in their depths. He claws at them, desperate, unhinged.

“TK!”

The voice is salvation, the timbre unmatched in its miraculousness. TK whips around, searching and scanning for the source. He lets out a cry when he finds him, standing in the doorway, dressed in nothing but athletic shorts, a bright white towel pressed to his curls, water still trailing down his bare chest.

Whole, untouched, safe. His home.

And TK just loses it.

In seconds, he’s in Carlos’s arms, his firm hands pressed against his back as his shoulders close around him, encasing him. His lips press to the shell of TK’s ear, his voice pouring into him like lava, filling all of his cavities and crevices left behind by the nightmare that took Carlos away from him.

“I’m right here, baby, I’m right here, it’s okay.”

TK sobs, clinging to him, his voice piercing in the quiet of his dad’s guest room. “You were there and you were surrounded by the fire and I couldn’t get to you, I couldn’t move, and I had to watch you, I just had to watch you go and then you weren’t there anymore, and it was like you were never there at all, but I couldn’t do anything, I just--”

“Hey, hey, Ty, breathe,” Carlos says, drowning out his voice with his own, pressing closer. “It was just a nightmare, we both made it out, we’re both here and we’re both okay. We’re both okay.”

“I… I can’t… I just…”

“Baby, you’re shaking, you’ve gotta calm down, okay.”

“I don’t… I can’t…”

“Here, lay back down,” Carlos says, loosening his grip a bit. TK shrieks, holding tighter. “It’s okay, trust me. TK, I need you to trust me.”

It takes him a moment, but finally TK lets him go. He closes his eyes, feeling the way Carlos lowers him back down onto the mattress. TK can still feel himself shaking, but before he can really start to panic again, he feels a weight on him, one that presses him firmly down, grounding him, holding him steady, from head-to-toe.

His eyes flutter open to take in Carlos above him where his face is pressed into his neck. He breathes, taking stock of their bodies, the way their hips rest against each other, the way Carlos firm thighs bracket his own. He brings his arms up around him, wrapping them around Carlos’s wide back before dragging one hand to the back of his neck and burying them in the soft curls there.

It’s a position he’s intimately familiar with, though unlike other times there is nothing remotely sexual about this situation. Carlos turns his head just enough to press his lips under TK’s jaw, dragging his nose along the light stubble there.

All he feels, all he sees, all he hears, is Carlos.

“Just breathe, baby. I’m right here. I’m all around you. I’ll keep you safe. Just like you kept me safe in the fire, just like you kept me grounded, just like you brought me back down when I felt scared and hurt and lost. I’m here for you now. It’s you and me, keeping each other safe, just you and me.”

He nods, letting Carlos drown him in his own form of a sermon, allowing the words to wash over him like a verse. He lets each syllable piece him back together again, remade in the image of the man he’s deemed worthy of loving him. The only man he will ever trust to do so.

He doesn’t need anything else, doesn’t want anything else. This is all he needs. This is all he will ever need.

Just him and Carlos, like this, forever.

-----

Someone’s snoring.

He comes to slowly, letting the world reintroduce itself to him. He hears music first, though it sounds tinny and, if he’s being honest, kind of grating. He shifts his hips a bit, feeling how the movement pulls against some tension in his lower back. He realizes he’s on a very hard surface and not at all on the very expensive mattress that he and Carlos splurged for a few years ago, when his husband started having his own fair share of lower back problems.

He opens his eyes, watching blue and red lights dance across the ceiling from the TV in the corner. A smile pulls at his lips as he shakes his head slightly, amused for no specific reason. Blue and red, he thinks. He’ll never escape them.

He lifts his head just enough to see the children’s TV show currently playing to an audience of none. He remembers when Carlos, fully offended at Netflix asking if he was still watching the same show after a few hours, finally figured out a way to turn that setting off. TK will have to tease him about not turning off the autoplay function tomorrow morning.

He finally focuses on the snoring off to his right, a sound so familiar that he hadn’t really registered it before, his brain just accepting that it was there. He turns his head, his smile growing as he finds his husband asleep next to him, his head resting on TK’s outstretched (and now very painfully numb) arm.

Carlos’s face is so soft, so serene, his brows slightly furrowed, his crease between his eyes just a little more pronounced. His lips are parted just barely, allowing his shallow breaths to escape and fill the living room around them. TK stares at him, overwhelmed by his beauty, overwhelmed by the feelings that are spreading throughout his chest at the sight of the man before him.

Even in sleep, Carlos is mesmerizing.

TK glances down, his heart leaping at the sight of their little boy asleep between them, his face buried in Carlos’s shirt, his light brown curls resting against the pillow beneath him. Carlos has an arm draped over him, his fingers grazing TK’s arm.

A memory flashes in his mind, one from when he was much younger, of his parents surrounding him in much the same way as they all lay together on his firetruck bed. He remembers how safe he felt between them; how between their bodies, he knew he could never be hurt.

He’s surprised to find that he feels that way even now, even as a father himself. He knows it’s because of the man before him; Carlos’s presence has always meant safety to him. He doesn’t see that ever stopping. He wouldn’t ever want it to.

He scoots just a little bit closer, groaning slightly at the numbness in his arm. He holds his breath as his husband shifts, his eyelids fluttering open. Brown eyes meet green, and TK feels the entire world shift into focus in that single moment.

“Hey,” Carlos whispers, dragging his fingers gently along TK’s side.

“We fell asleep on the living room floor,” TK whispers, scrunching his face as he shifts again, feeling the strain on his hips.

“Actually, you fell asleep on the floor, in the middle of Paw Patrol,” Carlos corrects, his hand leaving TK’s side to boop his nose. “We just decided that we would rather stay with you than sleep in our incredibly comfy beds.”

“Your back is going to kill you in the morning, you know that, right?”

“I could say the same thing about your hips,” Carlos replies, raising an eyebrow. TK says nothing, just nods his head and rolls his eyes.

“Grace is taking him tomorrow night, so we can run a bath, work out each other's kinks.”

“The fact that you are saying that and it’s not about sex makes me feel so incredibly old.”

“I never said it couldn’t be about sex.”

TK feels his jaw drop, watching as Carlos’s eyes twinkle in the blue light from the TV. He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to his husband’s lips.

“I’m looking forward to it, Mr. Strand-Reyes.”

“I’d be offended if you weren’t, Mr. Strand-Reyes.”

TK drags the tip of his nose along the ridge of Carlos’s before letting out a sigh. “Now that we’re awake, should we move to our beds, save ourselves from total regret and bodily mutilation?”

Carlos hums, looking down at the bundle of limbs between them. “It’s up to you. I just want to sleep next to you, wherever you are.”

TK takes him in for a moment, the way his long lashes brush against his cheeks, the peaceful smile that pulls at his lips as he looks down at their son. It’s a stunning image, powerful in its perfection.

“No, I think we can handle one night,” he says, scooting closer. He does remove his arm from under Carlos’s head, replacing it with the throw pillow laying on the ground next to them. “Besides, I think this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

Carlos hums in agreement, wiggling a little closer and smacking his lips softly as he drifts off to sleep.

TK stays awake until Carlos’s soft snores drown out all possible distractions, the feeling of absolute love and certainty filling him with a heaviness that drags him back into the darkness of sleep, all nightmares kept at bay for now.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #5+1 fic #please let me know what you think - it's been a minute and I tried some new things

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julemmaes · 3 years

Note

would you consider writing pt 2 for he really loves her?

PLEASE?

My Love For You - part two

Rowan Whitethorn x Aelin Galathynius modern au

part one (He Truly Loves Her)

A/N: this thing got me out of a writing slump and I'll never be grateful enough for you, whoever you are. I fucking love you. I know I have a shit ton of other things to write and I promised a lot of stuff to other people as well, but I do what I can do, so bear with me and be patient:))

Word count: 4,054

Rowan had rushed out of the house as soon as Fenrys had told him that Aelin had run off in tears, his stomach already in turmoil. He'd gone round the front garden and the pool, checking the outhouse and every wretched corner of the huge house, but he hadn't been able to find the girl anywhere.

He could feel his heart beating in his chest at an absurd speed and he knew it wasn't because he was running or because of the alcohol he'd consumed - although it wasn't an insignificant amount. Nor was it because Lyria had just freed him from chains he didn't even know were shrinking him.

Go for it, Rowan, it was nice while it lasted, but you're not mine anymore. And you haven't been since she came into your life, whether you realised it or not.

The words, spoken with such sincerity as to shock him, couldn't have been more true and he could hear them echoing every time he spotted a blonde mane in the crowd.

"Fuck." he cursed, stopping near the entrance to the house and running a hand through his hair. He took his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and checked his texts. Nothing.

He dialed Aelin's number, continuing to run his eyes over the people around him, and when the sound of the voice mail went off, it made him curse again. He called twice more before realising she wasn't going to answer.

He'd fucked everything up, he knew it.

A gag rose in his throat and he shoved it back down with a disgusted grimace and resumed his search, asking around if anyone had seen a blonde girl with eyes so impossibly blue and a bright red dress. Everyone shook their heads in displeasure.

Aedion had been on the verge of killing him when he'd approached him to ask where his cousin was, and when Fenrys had also stepped up threateningly, he'd realised he'd made a big mistake. And that whatever had happened to Aelin, it was definitely his fault.

He hadn't realised that he'd kept his gaze fixed on Aelin the whole time he'd been dancing with his ex until he'd been distracted by something the girl had said to him and the next second, when he'd returned his gaze to where he knew it would be what was now his most loyal friend, Aelin had disappeared.

He'd looked for her at the bar Dorian had had set up near the stairs to the upper floors, on the dance floor, outside the windows overlooking the pool, but he hadn't seen her anywhere and had stopped with his heart in his throat. Lyria had been just as shaken to see him in that state.

Aelin had been drunk off her ass the last time he'd seen her and all he'd been able to think about in that moment was that she might be in some corner puking her guts out while her body rejected the sheer quantities of alcohol she'd ingested. He knew she couldn't handle her booze well and the idea of her feeling sick made his heart clench in his chest.

He called himself stupid, thinking about how obvious every reaction his body had had. How everything good that had happened in his life over the last few months had been closely linked to Aelin.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and someone bumped into him, causing him to stagger forward. He spun around, ready to scream in the face of whoever had pushed him, but it was Lorcan who stood before him, a hard, tense expression that Rowan had rarely seen on the other man's face.

He was pissed as hell.

"Lorcan-" he began, intending to ask to borrow his phone, but his friend raised a hand and he froze.

Elide appeared shortly after, laying a hand on her boyfriend's arm and smiled sadly at Rowan, "Do you need a ride?" she asked faintly.

Rowan opened his mouth to ask what had happened, but quickly realised that they knew. However they found out, the couple in front of him knew about the shitshow that was going down. He had started shaking his head, ready to say that he couldn't go home until he found Aelin, but he didn't have time to speak that Lorcan did it for him.

"You should sleep it off. You're so drunk you can hardly stand and you're in absolutely no condition to talk to her." he said, clenching his jaw, "I'll take you home and tomorrow, after you've cleaned the fuck up and cleared your head, you can decide what to do."

Elide glared at him, elbowing him lightly in the side, "What my grumpy boyfriend is trying to say is that we'll give you a ride home, where you'll sober up and when you're not in danger of vomiting at every word, then you can try calling Ae. You've done enough for tonight and she probably needs some time alone."

Rowan's eyes widened, remaining silent at Elide's steady voice. He had spoken to her earlier and she had been as drunk as he was. Lorcan didn't even look at him as he passed him and headed for their car, shaking his head and muttering about how incredibly daft he'd been.

Elide tried to smile at him to reassure him somehow, but he didn't feel any kind of relief.

He needed to talk to Aelin, but they were right. He was in no condition to talk to his friend- to whatever Aelin was to him at that moment. And he knew perfectly well that she hadn't been either, at least not when she'd left the house.

The car ride was exhausting and so long that Rowan wondered where they were actually taking him, and when the car stopped at yet another red light, he lifted his head up from the window, rubbing his eyes. "How do I fix this?"

Elide looked over his shoulder, "It's not about fixing things, Ro. You just have to tell the truth."

Lorcan nodded beside her, clasping his hands around the steering wheel, "Aelin may not be my favourite person and I know you had an agreement that whatever happened between you wasn't true, but I think she forgot that at some point, just as I was convinced you had forgotten it too, until tonight." he said in a harsh voice. He looked at him through the mirror, "Why were you dancing with Lyria?"

Rowan didn't know how to answer, so he didn't.

Elide sighed, placing a hand on Lorcan's thigh, and the rest of the ride passed in silence as he remembered all the times Aelin and he had been alone and she had done that exact same thing. He huffed, shaking his head. What a fool he had been.

He thanked his friends, getting out of the car and staggering to the entrance of his building and turned to wave at them again, letting them know that he had managed to open the door. He climbed the stairs with considerable difficulty and only began to hear distinctive, broken sounds when he reached the fourth flight of stairs.

The higher he climbed, the clearer the sound became and the haze of confusion that clouded his mind slowly cleared up more and more with each step. When he reached his floor, his mind fully cleared to the figure of Aelin slumped against his door, her body repeatedly shaken by the sobs of a desperate cry.

Rowan felt his lungs constrict to the point where he could no longer catch his breath. He took a step forward towards her, stopping with one hand on the railing at a safe distance, because he knew that if he got too close, nothing would stop him from clutching her to his chest and taking her into the house with him.

She looked so small on the surely frozen tiles.

"Aelin." he whispered and hoped the despair in his voice wasn't too obvious.

Her head snapped up and the sight of her face contracted into a grimace of pain almost brought him to his knees. She cried harder, bringing her hands up to cover her face, and Rowan was terrified that something else had happened in the time he had been at the party looking for her.

He'd seen her cry before, in the months they'd been so close that they'd shared more than he'd ever shared with anyone else, but never like this. Never with such... hopelessness.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, perhaps in a slightly too surly tone, because she winced. But it wasn't anger, what he was feeling, it was pure terror that the reason Aelin was in that state was all about him.

She shook her head, folding her legs beneath her and rising from the ground. She bent down to pick up her bag and when she pulled herself up again, she faltered slightly, giving away how drunk she actually was. She shook her head, bringing her hands to her hair, "Sorry- I'm sorry, I'll go now," she sobbed. She didn't look at his face. "I don't know why I came." Rowan couldn't help but feel worse when she added, "I'm leaving, sorry."

Her voice broke again on the last words as more tears flowed down her cheeks and when Aelin walked past him, there was shock on his face.

"Aelin." he called to her again, his voice so faint he struggled to hear himself. She froze in her tracks, her arm brushing against his, and lifted her head to look at him, holding her breath.

She raised her golden-blue eyes to his and Rowan swallowed, feeling himself dying inside at the gruesome sight. It was his fault. The reason for her make-up being ruined like that. The way her breathing was laboured and her body trembled from the cold. It was his fault that Aelin was there now, suffering and crying.

His eyes fell on her lips instinctively, as they had done for the last four months in which they had lied to the world. In which they had lied to themselves.

He knew exactly what he would feel if he brushed her lips with his, if he ran his thumb over that pink mouth. He had learned to know every inch of those perfect lips. He'd learned to love them as if his life depended on it.

He'd just been too stupid to realize it himself.

"Come in." he told her plainly, extending a tentative hand towards hers. The moment his fingers brushed against hers, Aelin tensed and he withdrew his hand, not wanting to frighten her.

It was as if he were dealing with a wounded animal.

And though he had learned to read every expression on Aelin's face, now he could only tell how terrified she was, not knowing if that fear was directed at him or something else.

He grimaced when she didn't answer and closed his eyes, turning his head towards the door of his flat, ready to hear her walk away, but he felt her hand tighten around his pinky finger and he turned his head towards her. She had stopped crying and seemed to be holding her breath again, just as he was doing now.

He felt a rush through his body as her fingers tightened even more around his.

He looked down at that small gesture and felt his heart explode in his chest.

He smiled weakly at her and pulled her towards the front of the house, praying to every god in existence that she didn't let go.

The first time Rowan had held her hand, Aelin had complained about how big his was, and the second time Rowan had offered her only his little finger, big enough compared to her tiny ones, so that she could cling to him holding only that single finger.

They entered the house in silence, both of them still dulled by what had just happened and the alcohol and Rowan let her follow him around the house as he turned on the lights and made sure the heating was on for the night.

The cold in his flat could be nasty.

Not that he should have warned her, Aelin had slept there so many times with him that she knew better than anyone.

He sighed, finally looking at her and wondering how they had gotten to that point.

Looking at her swollen, red eyes, her cheeks still wet from crying and her complexion so pale she looked sick, he made a decision.

He closed his eyes, leaning his back against the wall behind him, and Aelin took a step forward, almost completely adhering to his body with her own. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, as if he was exhausted. "We should sleep." he murmured, "Talk about," he moved a hand in mid-air, "whatever this is tomorrow. We're both drunk and I'm not going to-"

"You're right." she interrupted him and her voice was scratchy, still weakened from crying, "We should sleep."

Rowan slowly opened his eyes and smiled at her amidst the alcohol, the exhaustion.

Aelin tried to return the smile, but seemed to remember something suddenly and pulled away from him, letting go of his finger and moving two steps away. She averted her gaze and swallowed loudly, "I'll sleep on the couch, just let me get my pajamas and then I'll leave you alone."

Her pajamas. Yes, because Aelin had a drawer of her own in this flat. And she had a toothbrush that belonged to her in the bathroom and a bathrobe and some fucking tampons.

God, he'd been so stupid.

They were already together and he'd been the only one who hadn't been aware of it really.

Then her words caught up with him.

He furrowed his brow, "You're not sleeping on the couch."

Aelin looked at him surprised. She opened her mouth and closed it and then opened it again and Rowan wanted to tease her about how she looked like a fish, but the words she spoke blocked him.

"But Lyria..."

He gritted his teeth, "Lyria is not the woman standing in my living room right now." he said icily. Then he pulled away from the wall, bringing his hands to Aelin's hips, and she sighed at that touch. Rowan leaned over her, pressing his forehead against hers, "If the only reason you don't want to sleep in my bed is because of her, then I don't want to hear your bullshit." he whispered against her lips. "If you don't want to sleep with me because of me, because you can't be around me, then take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch, but I'm not," he trembled, "I'm not going to leave you alone. I'm not going to sleep in another room while you're here in my house if the only thing blocking you is Lyria," he concluded breathlessly, as if saying those words had worn him out even more.

He opened his eyes and his green collided with her gold.

Aelin nodded slightly, letting their lips brush together, "Alright."

Rowan kissed her softly, sighing in relief when she pressed into him, making parts of her body cling that he hadn't touched since Lyria had spoken to him again a few weeks before. When they broke away, his hand stayed on her hip until she pulled away from him to get ready for bed, and Rowan tried desperately not to stare at her as she slipped off the tight little red dress that - thinking about it now - had certainly done nothing to protect her from the freezing cold of Rifthold. She must have been freezing to death out there waiting for him.

She slipped into her pajamas quickly and when they were both under the covers, Aelin gave her back to him, letting him wrap his arms around her and hold her to his chest, cradling her so that sleep could take her easily.

***

Rowan awoke to the sound of someone throwing up in his bathroom.

And his phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand.

He opened his eyes, grunting in pain as a twinge hit him in the head, but he reached for the phone, answering it without seeing who the sender was, "Hello?" he mumbled into the microphone.

"Rowan." exclaimed Lorcan in a voice too loud for his liking, "Have you seen Aelin? Has she called you, texted you, anything, since last night?" the panic in his voice was palpable and Rowan snapped to his seat as a feeling of sheer terror spread in his stomach.

He looked down at the blankets beside him, unmade in a way that meant only someone else had been sleeping with him. He suddenly remembered Aelin on his doorstep, crying as if someone had just crushed her world. The way he had kissed her before embracing her in her sleep.

He couldn't have imagined that. He couldn't have-

The sound of the toilet being flushed caught his attention.

He stood up quickly and his head spun so badly he had to lean against the wall to keep from tumbling.

"Rowan? You there?" asked Lorcan more urgently.

He looked out over the bathroom, catching sight of Aelin's mass of blonde hair as she leaned over the toilet.

He wanted to ask her if she was okay, but he needed to answer his friend so he could get rid of him and talk to her as soon as possible, make sure everything was all right.

"She's here."

Lorcan breathed a sigh of relief and then cursed, "Fuck, tell her never to do anything like that again." then Rowan heard him telling Elide that Aelin was okay and was at his place and the string of insults aimed at the blonde in front of him that came out of the other girl's mouth made him suspect that they had been looking for her for a long time. His suspicions were confirmed almost immediately, "Lysandra woke up this morning and found her bed empty. Couldn't reach her in any way. We've been looking for her for an hour now." he took a deep breath, "I'm glad she's there with you. Have you two talked yet?"

Rowan didn't answer, "I'll talk to you later." and hung up, not waiting for Lorcan to bid him bye in turn.

Aelin gagged again and he grimaced, crouching down beside her on the floor and gathering her hair into a fist, "Hey baby, how are you?"

She grunted, without lifting her head from the toilet, "Like someone's pulling my guts out of my throat."

Rowan chuckled, stroking her back with a warm hand. He shifted his gaze from her to the clock on the wall, seeing that it was past nine. "How long have you been like this?"

"An hour, probably," she murmured, stopping when another gag rose in her throat. She sighed when nothing came out but spat anyway, "How do you feel?"

He smiled, yawning and rubbing a hand over his eyes, "Like someone who can handle a hangover."

She chuckled, eyeing him sideways, "Asshole." she muttered.

Rowan could finally see her face and the smile died on his lips. He knew the glint from the tears in her eyes was from the vomit, but he couldn't stop his mind when it showed him images from the night before.

"How are you?" he asked again, meaning something completely different from what he had asked only mere seconds before. And maybe he'd used a different tone, maybe he'd made a different face, because Aelin's face also transformed and became more serious.

She stared into his eyes, biting the inside of her cheek, "I am." she replied, shrugging.

Rowan inhaled sharply through his nose, "Aelin."

"Rowan." she said. She raised her eyebrows, as if to ask him to continue.

Start, he mentally corrected himself. He owed her an explanation.

The hand on the small of her back slid to the floor and she seemed to regret the lack of that contact, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her at that moment. The hand in her hair let lose as well.

He didn't look away though, as he said, "I'm sorry, about last night."

Aelin didn't react in any way, giving him a sign to continue.

"I shouldn't have even looked at her, Lyria. I had you next to me and I don't know if it was out of habit or because I thought she was the one I wanted, but I went to her and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for using you all this time without realising what I was actually doing to you," he said, forcing himself not to look away. Her eyes betrayed nothing. "I know we had an agreement and I did nothing but stick to it, as you did, but I should have realized it was becoming something else when you stopped talking about Sam, when you started calling me more often to go out alone with me." he sucked in a breath, bringing a hand to his chest, "I'm sorry for all the nights before last night and for all the times I believed it wasn't real. For making you believe it wasn't real."

Aelin made a sound like a wounded animal, "What wasn't real?"

"My love for you," Rowan said, looking her straight in the eye.

She pulled herself up to sit up straighter and her jaw twitched, but he saw something shine in her gaze.

"I love you, Aelin, and I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner," he murmured, laying a hand on her thigh. She shifted her eyes to where he was touching her, before returning them to his face. "You came into my life out of nowhere and turned it upside down and then slowly you came in here and started leaving your things behind and in the meantime you were also getting into my heart and I didn't-" he had to stop himself because the emotion threatened to become too much. Aelin smiled at him and her eyes became even shinier. "I didn't realize it until Lyria asked me who I was looking for and I asked her what she meant and she told me that she had stopped talking over a minute before, but I had been too lost looking for someone in the crowd to even realize it. Because I was too lost looking for you."

A tear slid down Aelin's cheek and her hand rested on his, but she remained silent.

"I don't know when I stopped pretending, but I know it had been a lot sooner than I can even realize, and I'm sorry if I'm a stupid idiot and it took me too long and a near alcoholic coma before I realized how much I fucking love you, but... I love you, Aelin." he whispered the last part, breathing out a laugh, as if even he couldn't believe his words.

Aelin chuckled through tears and looked around, "God, I never thought we would confess our love on the floor of your bathroom."

Rowan stiffened, becoming all serious all of a sudden, "Our love?"

Aelin wrinkled her forehead, "I love you, Rowan, and if you haven't figured it out yet, you're probably dumber than I thought." she smiled, leaning towards him.

Rowan opened his mouth in surprise, but didn't have time to say anything as Aelin's mouth was on his and he moaned at the first swipe of her tongue against his, closing his eyes. And he wouldn't have even noticed it at that moment, the bad taste of that first real kiss, if Aelin hadn't pulled away from him suddenly, bringing a hand to her mouth and exclaiming, "Oh my God, our first kiss as a real couple tasted like vomit."

And her face was so disgusted that Rowan couldn't help but laugh, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to him until she was sitting on his lap and he didn't care if Aelin tasted like vomit right then. He wouldn't have cared if she tasted like vomit for the rest of their lives, if it meant he could see that smile that now glowed on her face every morning when he woke up.

tog tag list (if you wanna be removed or added dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @ladywitchling @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @anne-reads @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @firebirdofscythia @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @miserablemusings @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @tothestarswholistentodreamers

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelinn modern au #tog fic #angst #hurt comfort

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yandere-daze · 4 years

Note

How about Yandere Giorno w/ fem s/o who’s a stand user like at first she planning to escape then she get caught and that’s when she start to fight back, like almost the same thing like koichi did with yukako XD (episode 9) but of course he win the fight. That’s what it came out of my mind 👉🏻👈🏻

Ooooh I like it!! Thank you for the request!! <3

This ended up being way longer than I intended lol

Cut for length!

Yandere! Giorno with a stand-user s/o that tries to escape

You were tired, so very tired. Your body felt as if it was going to give out at any moment now. You were barely able to pay attention to the young man that was standing in front of you, your mind fading in and out of consciousness. The situation you were currently in was dire and you were absolutely overwhelmed. The blond-haired man in front of you seemed to notice your stressed-out state because his brows slightly furrowed as his face showed clear concern for you as he softly grasped your right hand.

“Is something wrong caro/cara? You look unwell”, his voice carried a hint of worry as he raised your hand a bit further up while moving his head in the opposite direction, his mouth soon making contact with the skin of your hand as he placed gentle kisses on the back of it. You felt your insides squirm uncomfortably as he trailed his lips lower, peppering kisses all over it before coming to a stop at your ring finger. He then looked up to stare directly into your eyes, a look on his face one could only describe as love-struck, as he then leaned down once again to place a final kiss on the golden ring adorning your finger. Giorno, your captor, closed his eyes and let out a hum in contempt before slowly letting go of your hand once again, taking back his own hand that carried the same ring as yours. As you let your hand fall down to your side once again, it felt heavier than ever, the figurative weight of the ring almost pulling you down and on your knees. You felt a knot form in your stomach as the reality of what the ring really implied settled in once again.

“Are you feeling better now y/n? It´s not good to be this stressed out on the happiest day of your life”. After a second of silence he then added;

“OUR life. After today we will never be apart again, I promise you.”

Yes, you knew how true his statement was, after all Giorno wasn´t one to make empty promises, he was always serious about what he said.

Just a few months ago, a blond-haired stranger promised you he would do anything to ensure your safety. Now, you were in the possessive arms of your “fiancé”, almost getting crushed from the sheer force of his protectiveness. You spent most of your days in a luxurious golden cage that he liked to call your home. You were never alone here, even when Giorno had to leave because of his work. Even though he never directly told you, you knew that there were guards loyal to him, hiding in the shadows. And though you weren´t ever able to see them, you could always feel their gazes on you, silently watching you from a distance. To say it was unnerving was an understatement. And of course, you weren´t allowed to leave. Oh, how desperately you wanted to leave! Giorno had mercilessly ripped you from your previous life, from your friends and family and you wanted to go back to the people you loved so dearly. But there was no reasoning with Giorno, he insisted that he took you in to protect you and to care for you, that he would never wish any harm onto you. And that he loved you. Oh, how often he had repeated these three simple words.

“I love you.”, he had whispered before knocking you out at the front door of your home.

“I love you.”, he had said before forcefully stealing your first kiss from you.

“I love you.”, he had proclaimed before going down on one knee and proposing to you.

You had had no chance to refuse in any of these scenarios, only being able to stare at him in fear as you stood motionlessly. In all of these moments, all you wanted to do was disappear from his sight and flee, never going back to him. How you wished that he had never noticed you that one fateful day when you grabbed a scoop of ice cream from your favorite parlor. You yearned for your freedom and the outside world but he seemed intent to keep you locked up. And as the day of your supposed wedding had grown closer and closer, you too had grown more and more desperate to escape. And one day when Giorno was off to work again, something truly bizarre had happened to you.

As you were blankly staring into the bathroom mirror, tears running down your face as you contemplated your hopeless situation, you suddenly heard a high-pitched screech. Whipping your head around, you weren´t able to see the source of the noise until you heard light scratching noises from the left shelf. Carefully making your way over there, you wondered what could possibly be in there. After all it should be impossible for anyone to get in here! Standing in front of the shelf you were surprised to see what looked like…. a bat? Only it was bigger by a good amount and the fur on it´s belly was littered with little heart symbols. Okay so that was definitely not normal. What was going on here? You were tempted to take a step back but as soon as you slightly moved your feet the bat looked down and promptly fluttered it´s wings before taking flight and… oh god it was heading towards you! What were you supposed to do here?? But while you were wondering about what to do, the bat flew right at you and landed on your shoulder as it lightly started to nuzzle your face. It´s soft fur slightly tickling you, you were once again thrown for a loop as it´s shape started to rapidly shift. It´s wings stretched out and grew longer while it´s head also changed size. It had happened so fast that it took you a moment to realize that it seemed like the strange bat-like creature had wrapped itself around you like a sort of cloak. But your earlier surprise couldn´t possibly compare to the pure shock you felt when you looked back into the mirror to see…nothing. Absolutely nothing. You were able to see the wall behind you and the shelf but it was as if you had completely disappeared, as if you were…. completely………invisible. Invisible?! Was that true?! If that truly was the case then could you possibly use this to your advantage to finally escape this cage you were in and go back home? You couldn´t help your excitement at the prospect that you started to jump up and down only to notice that all of your jumping hadn´t caused any kind of sound to appear. Walking back and forth you noticed that all of your steps were completely muted. It was as if you were a ghost of some kind. Wanting to test out this new strange “ability” of yours further, you headed out of the bathroom, noticing the little sound the handle made as you pressed it down, the door opening with a little screech. Huh. So only your steps seemed to be silent, all other sounds still occurred as they normally should. That was good to know. As you ventured out further, you decided to leave your room and headed into the hallway. Looking around, you saw one of the many maids that worked here in the mansion sweeping the floor while whistling a cheery tune. It aggravated you how these people could just carry on with their normal life and pretend nothing was wrong when they all knew that you were trapped here without your consent. They knew how you suffered, how often you had sleepless nights as you cried into your pillow, the one they had to wash, and yet they seemed not to care at all. If you were honest though, deep down you knew that they weren´t the ones to blame. That damn Giorno was. He took you from your old life without any concerns and shook of your cries and complaints as if you were just being unreasonable and confused. Realistically speaking, the people working here probably didn´t have any other option, how were they supposed to defy the Don of the mafia? Deciding that there was no more time for such useless thoughts, you shook your head as you thought about what you were going to do now. Taking a gamble, you practically ran in the direction the maid was currently working in, feeling a rush of excitement as she didn´t even look up from her work as you soundlessly approached her rapidly. Coming to a stop in front of her, you waved your right hand in front of her face but she kept ignoring you. So, you truly were invisible? It´s not a dream? Right in this moment you could cry tears of joy. So there was still hope for you to escape this hell?! As you internally celebrated your small victory, you almost jumped in surprise when you suddenly saw Giorno walking through the hallway, seemingly wanting to visit you in your room. As you wondered why he had returned so early you scrambled to run back into your room, not wanting to see what might happen if he saw that you weren´t there. You didn´t want him to further restrict your freedom, then you would have no chance to get away, even with this invisibility-ability. As you came to a stop in “your” room, you then soon came to realize that you didn´t know if it was even possible for you to become visible again. And what if you weren´t able to become invisible again after this? Panic filled you but as you saw the door handle begin to move you felt a weight on your shoulders lift. The coat fell from your form, shrinking again and shifting form before turning back into the bat from before and then suddenly disappearing into thin ear. But you weren´t able to think over what happed just now as the blonde stepped into the room, a smile on his face. And as he led you somewhere else, deep in your mind the desire to escape started to take root. You knew it was possible and you had to do everything you could to plan your escape. You would use the following days to prepare for it.

Later, you found out with quick relief that you were indeed able to go invisible again, just simply wishing for it seemed to do the trick. And even when you were visible, the bat really seemed to like to being around you. The little animal spent most of it´s time hanging onto you, no matter if it was your shoulder, your back, your arm or even your head, quietly falling asleep on you in the process. You had to admit it was kind of cute and you were grateful for the company it offered, even if it wasn´t able to communicate with you. Well actually, that didn´t prove to be exactly right. You already knew bats used echolocation to coordinate and find things but it stuck you as especially particular when you found out that you were able to see abstract pictures in your head of what the bat was able to locate. You weren´t able to tell the difference between different people or anything of the sort but you could see moving, big objects in your head. You were confused as how this came to be but decided to just accept the fact that this was happening now and started to embrace this new ability. You decided to use this to your advantage in preparing your escape, sending out the little bat to scout out the mansion without having to actually leave your room and thus preventing any suspicions. As it turned out, no one except you was able to see the bat so you deemed it the safest method. Though you soon found out that you weren´t able to use the echolocation while you were invisible. You guessed that there just HAD to be some kind of restriction to your ability.

You were startled from your thoughts of the past, back into the present day as your fiancé gently grasped your cheeks and rubbed them in what you assumed was supposed to be a comforting manner as he once again had a worried look on his face.

“Y/n are you really sure you are alright? Maybe you need to rest a bit? It wouldn´t do us any good for you to be unwell on the day of our wedding. Let me grab you a glass of water.”, Giorno said as he hesitantly let go of your face to presumably get you something to drink. Looking left and right you saw that you were completely alone now. Was this your chance? After all, after you two were married against your will you didn’t think you would have any time alone anymore. Also, you wanted to prevent a “wedding night” at any costs. Just thinking about it made you shudder in disgust, a chill going down your spine. While he might be looking forward to it; in fact, he TOLD YOU that he was; you wanted anything but that. So, deciding to set your plan in motion you called out to your bat-friend, which soon appeared and settle onto your shoulder. Nodding your head, it seemed to get what you were trying to say as it hopped of your shoulder and started to fly past you and down the hallway. You soon concentrated as the abstract images started to appear in your head as your mind processed the information it was getting sent. Due to the wedding preparations, everyone was in disarray and scurrying around the place, no one was at their usual position and with absolute glee you found that someone had left the door to the outside open in a hurry to probably carry out one of Giorno´s orders. Seeing that this was the perfect chance for you, you called back your bat and as it flew past the kitchen, detecting some kind of movement in there, you mentally already celebrated your freedom. You were so close to getting your old life back, you could hardly contain yourself. Holding out your arm for the animal to settle on, you saw the ring that still adorned your hand and settled your gaze onto it with a frown. It was a symbol of Giorno´s possessiveness, something you wouldn´t need anymore after this. It was a beautiful ring but you weren´t going to accept any of the gifts he had gotten you. You were your own person and didn´t need a reminder of the dark time spent with him. So, with one quick forceful tug, you pushed the ring off of your finger and let it fall to the ground.

Clingggg

The ring made a semi-loud sound as it hit the ground but at this point you couldn´t care anymore. You felt an immense sense of relief as you saw it there, feeling as if a huge weight had just been lifted from you. Looking down at your hand you saw that the ring was now replaced by your dear bat-friend that had flown to you in the meantime and settled onto your hand. Giving it another nod, you watched as it once again started to transform, it´s wings stretching out and slowly wrapping around you, as you started to grow invisible.

Thud thud thud

You heard fast footsteps approaching you, getting closer and closer as the sounds kept growing louder. But looking at your reflection in the gem of your engagement ring on the ground, you weren´t able to see yourself anymore. The process was already over. You had won. You were free.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you sped up and ran towards the door you previously saw in your head. You the saw who the source of the footsteps was: Giorno. He held a glass of water in his hand, just as he had promised you but there was a sense of urgency in his steps as he approached your former location. Seeing him one last time, you couldn´t help but let a grin slip on you face as you sarcastically waved at him while mouthing “Bye bye!” at him. He obviously wasn´t able to see it as he mindlessly ran by his object of obsession, but right now you just wanted to be petty.

After having to endure his presence for so long and being locked up in this golden cage, you wanted to see his reaction when he realized you were gone. You wanted to see that smug and satisfied expression turn into one of panic as he couldn´t find you. So for a moment you stopped in your tracks to see the whole thing unfold.

His fast steps slowed down as he came to the place you conversed at before, only to see that you weren´t there.

“Tesoro? Where are you dear?”, he called out, his voice slightly wavering. He then proceeded to turn in every which direction, frantically scanning his surroundings with his eyes.

“Y/n? Y/n answer me! Where are you?!” Now he sounded truly panicked and you couldn´t help but be delighted in the sound of that. All this time, Giorno had never really been too emotional with you, being annoyingly calm all of the time, even when you screamed in his face or cried your eyes out. Sure, he looked a bit concerned but he always used to tell you that there was no reason to be upset. That you were being irrational, too emotional, unreasonable. That everything was fine. But seeing him look around frantically now? Well you didn´t deem yourself a sadist but it felt you with a sense of pure satisfaction.

CLASH!!

With a slight jolt, you noticed the now shattered glass on the ground, the water spilling out on the floor in a puddle. Giorno was now kneeling down, as he shakily reached down and pulled his hand through the shards of glass, seemingly not caring about the blood that was now staining his hand. His hand then came to a stop as he grabbed at something and picked it up. Seeing the familiar golden material in his hand, you recognized it to be your engagement ring. Upon seeing the object, Giorno´s whole body started to shake as he let out heavy breaths. From where you were standing it looked like he was about to lose it, no doubt in despair thanks to realizing that you had thrown away the ring that he had so graciously given to you. You felt no regret.

Then he started to turn around and you were expecting to see pain and anguish on his face but to your great surprise, all you could see was a deranged-looking smile and huge relief reflected in his eyes. Your eyes widened even more in both surprise and confusion as he then started to laugh out of nowhere. Was he really losing it now? Thinking that you had now seen everything you needed to see, you turned around again and started to run towards the door. You didn´t need to see him completely lose his mind now. You didn´t want to feel some strange kind of guilt in your stomach for seeing him in such a state. You realized how dangerous a feeling like that was so you wanted to get away as fast as you possibly could now.

“Y/n….oh y/n. I´m deeply hurt but also so glad you threw away the ring! Don´t worry I will be with you soon. You can´t hide from me!”, you didn´t know what he meant you felt that it promised no good so you picked up the pace.

“Gold Experience!”, you heard him shout behind you and asked yourself if he was really gone now. No matter, you would soon be gone.

Looking ahead once more, you saw that you were getting closer and closer to the door. Your ticket out of this hellhole of a cage you had to live in the past few months. Away from the controlling and possessive person that Giorno proved to be. You could finally be free again. You could go back to your old life, to your friends and family. All you had to do was walk through this door and-

You felt something pull your leg back as you promptly tripped and fell onto the floor. Your whole body ached and you rubbed your head as you looked down in confusion. You were trying to see what could have possibly caused you to trip like that. You felt your entire being grow stiff as you saw that a large snake had somehow wrapped itself around your ankle. You didn´t understand how this could have happened. Where the hell did that snake come from? And how was it able to see you? I mean it had to have seen you somehow, right? How else could it have found you?

Thud thud thud

You once again heard footsteps approaching you. This time the steps were thundering, almost frantic as you saw Giorno run towards you. This was bad. You had to somehow get this snake off of you and get away. But you didn´t really know a lot about snakes. Would it bite you if you were to move your leg now? It didn´t matter too much. You would gladly take that risk if it meant getting away from here. So you started to shake around your leg while trying to get the snake off of you, but to no avail. In fact, it only seemed to cling on tighter the more you moved around. It seemed insistent on not letting you run away.

When you saw Giorno come to a stop in front of you, you felt panic well up inside of you. He wasn´t able to see you, you reasoned with yourself. He would walk right past and once this snake stops being stubborn you could still get away. But Lady Luck seemed to have something against you today because Giorno slowly kneeled down so he was at your level. He reached out his arm almost hesitantly as he reached down to the spot where the snake had caught onto you. To your dismay, you felt his hand make contact with your leg, causing you to start trembling. No way. This wasn´t happening. Not when you had been so close to getting away. You tried to desperately shake your leg once again to possibly get rid of the snake but you felt Giorno´s grip on you tighten as you did so. Anxiously looking up in his face, you saw him sigh in relief, a smile on his face that quickly turned into a frown, disappointment now clearly visible.

“Tesoro”, he began with an edge to his voice, making you shake in fear. “I can´t believe you tried to run away from me. Why would you do that? Especially today.”

You just kept quiet, not feeling like giving him a response after everything that had just happened.

“Staying silent? Please that´s not going to help you now. I´m disappointed in you. I know you´ve been very…disagreeable in the beginning and I understand that it was a drastic change for you but I thought we had grown past that by now. You were so nice and sweet to me the last few days, was all of that just an act?!”, he raised his voice a bit at the last part. It was true, you had tried to be more docile and accepting of his advances the last few days to make him lower his guard.

“I don´t understand. Don´t I provide you with anything you could ever wish for? What more could you possibly need? Why would you try to run away and endanger yourself? You´re safe here with me, do you still not understand that? I love you so much y/n, I don´t know what I would do without you. What I felt when I saw that you were missing… I don´t think I have ever felt this sense of panic before.”, at this he tightened his grip once more as if afraid that you would disappear at any moment now. Trying to compose himself once more, Giorno took a deep breath before continuing.

“This invisbility- is it part of your stand? I didn´t know you had one.”

Now you were just confused.

“What´s a stand?”, you asked before being able to stop yourself. Shit, now he knew for certain that it was you. You really weren´t going to get away now.

“Yes, your stand. It seems to grant you invisibility. I too posses a stand and only thanks to that I managed to find you again. To think that you might have been truly gone. My heart aches at the mere thought of it.”

“But no more of that. I will think of an appropriate punishment later. Maybe giving you access to the garden was too tempting for you. For now, let us go back, alright? The wedding ceremony is starting soon and we wouldn´t want to be late for that now, would we?”

With that he took your hand and pulled you off the ground. As he slipped on the ring that you had previously thrown away you couldn´t help but notice something. As if fate wanted to mock you even more for your failed attempt to regain your freedom you made a quick observation.

The ring you were wearing was now stained with the blood that spilled from Giorno´s hand.

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I hope you enjoyed this one! Probably the hardest part of this was coming up with an appropriate stand. My thought process while creating this stand was mostly like: If I was trying to escape a kidnapper, what kind of stand would I want? And I thought invisibility would be nice! I did think about a name but I didn´t think it would make sense for reader to know the name of the stand when they don´t even know what stand are to begin with.

Tho a name that was flying around in my mind was “Haunted House”! Because of the whole appearing and disappearing like ghost thingy lol

Anyway hope you liked this!

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certifiedceraunophile · 3 years

Photo

So summer in Mumbai is almost over, technically I only have 15 days or so before monsoon rolls in and everything becomes poetically gross and sticky outside and languid and homey inside, basically meaning I missed my chance at summer...again.

Now that left me a bit miffed, that this summer I did not get to make ANY new memories that were largely pleasant, that my wanderlust was not even acknowledged let alone indulged, and that I spent most of it locked up, isolated, scared -and with the risk of sounding woeful- utterly helpless and hopeless.

I’ve been told summers are supposed to signify new beginnings, each new gust of the summer breeze is supposed to slowly ease the frigid hands of winter away from us.....but I felt none of that, I still feel like I’m being squeezed from all four sides, flattened and twisted by everything that is raging on in my country, in my home, in my life.

And no this caption is not gonna end with a light and hopeful easing message, because I don’t feel any of those things, fleetingly when I’m with my friends and my family yes, I can almost forget the utter *shit* I’m going through but it’s always looming in some god forsaken corner of the scenery, some part of it blurring or blotting my vision.

But then a few days ago I was going through pictures of my travels from the summers before this Pandemic started and the only thing I noticed was how no part of this scenery, of these pictures was even faintly tainted by anything that happened in the following two years, I noticed that I remember, that I remember everything, from my summers before the pandemic. I cried for a bit, not out of wistfulness or bitterness, but simply because I remembered the sheer beauty of the world and how all of it was laid bare for me.

I cried because I was so so goddamn thankful I remembered….and that my soul remembers.

I still remember thinking that the tumbling shades of the sky reflected in the ocean, the blues and whites of Andaman was the single most beautiful colour I had ever laid eyes on, and that if all the Gods and powers of the universe were all just colours and beams of light, the one who created our Earth would be this exact shade of blue.

I remember how the gathered scents of a thousand flowers from the Gardens of Singapore mixing and twirling almost conspicuously in front of my eye, invading my senses and leaving me so jarringly human could be the only experience I could truly ever come close to describing as ethereal.

I remember how each wave of the Mediterranean sea looked like a beckoning hand welcoming me into its depth, wily and whispering, taunted me with each secret it was willing to unveil with just one more step until I didnt even notice I was chest deep, swaying and so so alive.

I remember how I saw the sun daintily blanket itself beneath the boundless Arabian seas, where each passing minute as it slipped beneath it’s tiding veil was just another artist’s brush stroke across the sky, a splash of red here a hint of pink there and a stroke of glowing glorious orange, and all I could think was: was it not enough? was it not enough to shine down such seraphic beauty on me just once, was it not enough that the world had to turn around and reflect it’s swirling colours of a flaming sky on the ocean beneath, and shimmer twice as bright? was it only enough when the sky set the ocean on fire with flames that danced.

And I remember how each smoking, sweltering breath in the deserts of India, each glare of the sun and the shyness of a cloud to even slightly dare disturb the perfect sky was just the world clearing its lenses so I could see unfettered beyond it’s shrouded shadows and know the inescapable expanse of it, to know how incredibly infinitesimal I was in that moment, to know that the world only ever glowed its colors and stirred it’s wind and pulled it’s water for something so infinitesimal and transient as me. To know that all of it was for me.

So yeah...I cried, because the world was mine to breathe in, to eat in small bites and drink with each gasp of air, and I was thankful for that. However, soon my tears did turn wistful and bitter, because now I’ve been robbed of it. No, nothing, nothing less than the World was stolen from me, and I cant see an end to it’s absence, all I hear about each day is death, and all I see each day in my family, in my home, in myself is the fear of death, if you could you’d smell the stench of fear on us, and no I don’t bloody care if this is pretentious or overly romanticized or utterly way too symbolic and flowery to be truly woeful because this is how I’ve always expressed myself and this is how I’ve always seen the world, but now all I see is the four walls of my home, each morning the air outside decays with this virus, each day the smoke from the bodies being burnt on the street is just another fixture of life, each death just another tally, each positive test just another prayer, each grieving soul probably the next death.

And I hate it, and you see no, I don’t hate my current state.

I hate the world, the world I was so enamoured with, the world I had submitted all my secrets and desires and hopes to, the world I prayed to and prayed for, the world that I thought would always dance with me, that I thought was immutable in it’s beauty and never ending in it’s immensity, the same world I thought that had claimed me back as sure as I had claimed it, I hate it so much

Because it’s all gone, because I feel abandoned, because I feel so fucking alone.

So that’s why I am here, showing you these pictures of me, trying my hardest to make you feel what I felt when the world engulfed me, to show you how breathless it truly leaves you, because all you ever do is drown in this world, because I can’t bring myself to hope to feel it again, it hurts every time. So here I am a lost little girl who was promised the world, was cruelly fed a piece of it, and then left to starve with only the faintest taste to remember, to linger on my tongue, so here I am showing you my pretty pictures because all I can do now is remember....and I can’t lose that too.

#covid India #so this was sad #and I feel like I should leave a tw for pretension too along with #tw death #tw covid #dont mind me this is me and my self pity dolling up #to hide how lost i am #so yeah I just wanted to INDULGE in the self pity in the anger and the hate #for a second #and well I did #can't say I feel any better #but I suppose that's not what this is about #anyways that's me for today #and yes those are pics of me #in different parts of the world during the summer of 2018?? i guess #feel free to shoot me an ask or text me about this if you want to #I feel like discussing the world #just so that I dont forget it #bc I honestly think I'm just a hand stretch away from it #and I can't possibly fathom losing my love permanently #anyway #deep stuff #kinda #just me being sad on main #is that weird?#i hope not #but it is what it is

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s4ijoh · 4 years

Text

icarus falling. oikawa tooru

OIKAWA TOORU X GN! READER

GENRE: angst; fluff

WORD COUNT: 1.9k+

WARNINGS: established relationship

after seijoh's loss to karasuno in the semi finals…

the walk back home was nothing like what you had expected. you wondered if, walking on this sidewalk next to you, stood the same gutted boys that back in the court had their heads bowed down in defeat - their frowns now replaced by lighthearted smiles. you cling onto your boyfriend's arm, your presence silent next to him, watching from the sidelines. from your position, it might have just looked like a group of friends catching up on conversation but there was so much more to this moment than met the eye.

despite their loss, the conversation was rather lively - but you knew it was all a hopeless attempt to avoid the elephant in the room. there was a bittersweet taste to the current energy on the atmosphere. they carried on chatting almost as if they felt it was best to avoid the topic, it didn’t feel right to spend the last moment they had last as a team mourning their mistakes but rather reminiscing on the good memories instead. whereas, on the other hand, to deny to acknowledge their loss was to live a lie.

you keep a close watch on tooru, his features completely devoid of even the slightest hint of sorrow. however, you have learned to read in between the lines, to get to know each and every one of his quirks - to know his voice gets quieter when he is lying or how he blinks more rapidly when he’s nervous. you could read him like an open book and the occasional furrow of his brows, that even though was barely there for a half a second, only for you to catch a glimpse of it, was an immediate giveaway of the thoughts plaguing his mind.

once you reach the doorstep to tooru’s house you wave your goodbyes to the boys before the both of you part your different ways with the group. a heavy silence falls between the two of you yet there are so many things to be said. as the boys disappear into the distance, the atmosphere turns blue, all of tooru’s troubling thoughts lingering in the air yet not spoken of. you choose to give him his space to grieve, you knew he would talk to you once he was ready.

it was the quiet before the storm. as soon as he walks through the front door a suffocating void settles in his heart. tooru finds himself spiraling down a deep dark hole, a sudden numbness taking over his body before he is brought back to reality when his emotions strike him all at once. it was the catalyst to his ruin.

the lump in his throat tightening knocks the oxygen out of tooru’s lungs making it hard to breathe and he can no longer find the strength within himself to hold back any further, it is almost physically impossible for him to keep the tears from falling. he had kept all these feelings bottled up inside him for too long and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened - they start overflowing, all at once, against his own will. after the rainstorm, it’s not long until the flood.

despite all his effort to keep himself under control, his first attempt at verbalizing his thoughts comes in the form of a choked sob as he falls right into your embrace. and so you watch him fall apart right before your eyes. as many times as you had held his trembling body in your arms, you would never get used to this sight. you could never guess that someone as cheerful as tooru had all these hardships in his life, but he did and ever since you met him you knew better than to believe the little show he put on for everybody.

you had seen him at his worst, and you were one of the few lucky ones he trusted enough to willingly let his walls down for. he had trusted you to see the rawest version of him and to allow you to roam his naked soul - no matter how many times he confessed his love for you, this was the ultimate proof of his sheer devotion and no matter how many times you confessed your love for him you could never show him how grateful you are to be fortunate enough to know the real tooru oikawa.

"let it all go" his shaky sobs resonate through your skin as he cries on your now damp shoulder with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

it was hard to notice on the outside but there was a battle taking place under the surface. disguised beyond his usual bright persona, tooru was fighting a war against himself. he was indeed his own worst enemy as cliché as it might sound. his number one struggle was to acknowledge his own worth, which induced the growth of his prevailing self-destructive habits. he would beat himself up every day, neglecting his own health in favor of working towards being the best player he could possibly become - he never thought it was enough; he had spend many restless nights wondering whether he would ever be enough. perhaps he was hopeless. so far, life had gone hard on him but, ever since you entered the scene, he could rely on you to brighten his darkest days.

"i did e-everything i could and it was still no-not enough" his words make your heart ache in your chest for you can tell how difficult it is for tooru to speak by the way his voice cracks at the end of the sentence before he falls into another fit of watery sobs. but to know he was taking it all upon himself struck you even harder.

this was the same boy you had watched pour his blood, sweat and tears into everything he had done, you only wish you could give him the world for he deserved nothing less. you knew he carried the weight of responsibility that came with being the team captain on his shoulders with pride, whether it was for the best or the worst. however, what he failed to realize was that he didn't have to bear it all on his own.

tooru felt like a failure; he had hit a wall. despite all his hard work he could not see the fruits of his labor. it was as if he was trapped in a maze with no exit - no matter the advances he made, he would always find himself back on square one, hopelessly running around in endless circles and driving himself insane.

in the end all his effort had gone to waste - or so he thought, in his current state, it was hard to see past the fog clouding his mind. he was inconsolable. you knew that no word you said could possibly mend his broken heart but you could at least try to relieve some of his pain.

"tooru, i know you will achieve great things one day. you just have to hold onto your dreams." you caress his hair whereas your spare hand rubs up and down his spine before settling on the nape of his neck, cradling the back of his head and tugging him closer to you.

“right now, i know it might feel like a loss but i believe in you and know you will make it out of this stronger, you always do"

you pull back to look into his glassy eyes, a thick veil of tears coating his hazel orbs. the eyes that once held all that passion are now dull as the familiar hopeful gleam fades away with every teardrop streaming down his cheeks, being replaced with a void of broken dreams. he always aimed high, strived to be better and it hurt to see him like this for he did not deserve it but, unfortunately, the universe had different plans for him.

tooru stood too close to the sun. he was close, close enough to yearn for more of it's warmth - he needed more. but what he failed to anticipate, guided by his own instinct, was that it was physically impossible to go any further without getting hurt. the higher he flew, the closer he got, the harder he would fall; his ambition was his greatest blessing as well as his worst curse.

yet, once again, here you stood, ready to catch him on his fall back to earth. you had been there for him every step of the way. you had watched tooru fall flat on his face several times only to witness him build himself back up and work harder than the last time. you admired his cunning nature, it was his greatest weapon.

"i know you wanted to pursue your dreams next to your friends, tooru, but i promise you that they will be there, alongside you, watching your every step on the way to the top"

you feel his stiff muscles relaxing under your touch, it was almost as if you knew exactly what he needed to hear. everyone thought tooru required high maintenace but a few reassuring words were all it took to make him feel better and upon hearing the mention of his teammates, a switch flips inside him and he has a purpose once again. tooru wished to be better and even if it was hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, he would keep going, if not for his sake, for his friends - he wouldn’t let them down again.

after a while you listen to his sobs fading into the air. after the flood always comes the quiet.

tooru’s body leans weak against yours once his sniffles die down. you hold onto his waist, dragging his limp body across the hall and into his room, sitting him on the edge of the bed to help him change into more confortable clothes. you crouch down in front of him to press a kiss to his injured knee before you lay down next to him, cradling him in your arms whereas you let the silence of the quiet night envelop the both of you in it’s sweet embrace. he felt at home, secure in the shelter of your warmth, your body caging him in a reassuring hug. he feels invincible all of a sudden, like he could conquer the world.

“i will make you feel proud of me, one day” he whispers against your chest, his voice is still hoarse in the aftermath of his emotional burst.

“i'm already proud of you, tooru. you are stronger than anyone could ever fanthom”

“no. i mean that, one day, i will redeem myself and i want you there, by my side.”

despite his mellow tone, the eagerness was still present in his voice, each word radiating with the strength of a thousand suns. you were glad to know that, regardless of the storm, the flame was still burning bright inside him.

“i will be there, tooru.” you pull away from him to hold his face in your hands “i will be there to watch you reach the top. i will watch you get each and every one of your opponents out of the way and prove them wrong, baby. it's us against the world”

that night, you never leave his side, holding him as close as humanly possible expecting that, perhaps, if you hold him just tight enough you can fill the hole in his heart and make him feel whole again.

and, hopefully, you would still be here when he is finally ready to spread his winds open again and earns back the courage to fly high.

[a/n]: so im experimenting with a new writing style,, i wanted to improve my dialogue writing skills so from now on ill be focusing more on dialogue than i used to (feedback would be highly appreciated :D) + also no smut in here, for now, cs i was tired of writing nasty shit ,, give me a break, for the time being this is a smut free zone, (lmao who would've guessed) if you were here for the smut im sorry to disappoint you - the old ellie can’t come to the phone right now cuz she’s DEAD. my goal is to write shorter pieces and work on characterization as well hence the new blog!!, my old stuff didn't serve me anymore.

+ also it took me more time to write 2k words than those longer fics i used to write lmao. im actually proud of this one. hopefully, i changed for the better!

#had a personality 180º im blaming my unstable mental health #n e ways #i would rather say that im constantly improving myself so #if you knew me before this no you didnt #not me writing this while listening to i hate this part by the pussycat dolls #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu #oikawa torū #haikyuucreations

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littlespaceporgs · 4 years

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Inevitable

Leah! Congrats on your follower milestone! 🥳💕 May I request 5. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss for Anakin Skywalker? Thank you, love! 🥰

A/N: Hey! This is my first time writing for Anakin, I tried to make him not as whiny as he is in the movies, so I ran with tcw! *cough* this is also my longest one somehow *cough* So spoiler alert! It does have references and is set in the Zygerria arc in tcw, just a heads up, though it makes sense still if you haven’t seen the arc. Also fair warning, if you want it to stay fluffy at the very end, I recommend you don’t read the final paragraph. Anyway, enjoy :D

Want to Request? See Here.

Inevitable

Prompt: #5 - a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

Word Count: 1.9k Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Reader Warnings: slavery, torture, hint of depression Description: Post-Zygerria, you contemplate your feelings for Anakin.

Tags for the fam: @anakin-danvers @fractiouskat

It hadn’t gone well to say the least. Mind, it was rare that this type of thing went well. It was supposed to just be a trip to check on the Togrutans. Naturally, you had walked onto Kiros expecting a fight, after all, the last thing the Jedi had heard from them, a separatist fleet had entered the atmosphere. But this was by far the worst thing you’d ever gotten yourself into.

Kiros itself was a beautiful planet. The art and architecture was something to marvel at, and the landscape was vastly different to the cold grey of Coruscant. You found yourself hoping that one day you’d be able to holiday there, it was nice climate, there hadn’t been any traces of the war due to their neutrality until recently. The lack of habitants however was quite frankly disturbing.

Between Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, the troopers and yourself, you all had made quick work of the droids. When you received word that the Zygerrians had a part to play in all of this, Obi-Wan went to meet up with the separatist leader, you stayed behind to comfort Anakin. Said Anakin was currently sitting in front of a speeder, looking highly volatile. The best way to approach Anakin when he was in such a mood was with quiet and a steady hand, so you started by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Ani? Are you ok?” While he didn’t turn to look at you, his hands did stop fiddling with the machinery. He exhaled heavily through his nose and went back to modifying the speeder.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You sat down next to him, and snatched the wrench out of his hands, which prompted a noise of protest as he turned to glare at you.

“See you say that, but there’s this thing called a ‘facial expression’ which says otherwise.” Using the force to snatch the wrench back, he went back to using the wrench. “Ani, you know you can talk to me right?” He sighed and stopped once more.

“Yeah, I know,” you reached over, and took one of his hands in yours, “this is just digging up some memories I’d rather not think about.” He twisted his hand over, so that his fingers locked in yours, and squeezed gently.

“I’m really sorry that you went through that, Ani, truly I am. I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like,” you paused and took a breath, “but what I do know, is that you’re one of the strongest people I know, and I know that because of that you’ll move past this.” Though not seeming totally happy, one of the corners of his mouth pulled a little, he shook his head and looked directly into your eyes before they flicked to your hands.

“Honestly, what would I ever do without you?” The jedi in you wanted to recite the code, say that he would be perfectly fine without you, that he’d have to find a way to move on and accept it, say that he shouldn’t be saying such things. But the utterly human part of you felt overly fuzzy, and affection reared its head in your stomach. Ignoring the trepidation, you smiled back at him.

“Probably something stupid, or make more poor decisions.” He snorted out an airy laugh and squeezed your hand a little tighter. The moment didn’t last however, as the tone of a comm rang out from his wrist from Obi-Wan.

That was what led you to Zygerria, attempting to find the Togrutans. With quick assurances and a look that seemed to be forlorn, you and Anakin separated. He went with Ahsoka to find the Queen, while you, Obi-Wan and Rex went on the hunt for the missing people. You should have listened to the awful, rotting feeling in your stomach, then maybe, you all wouldn’t have been taken.

As a jedi, you relished in the feeling of freedom. With a connection to the force, you could feel everything around you, feel the flow of energy between all if you will. It made you feel light, like a small breeze could carry you away, like every breath of fresh was your first. Down here, that was all taken away from you. The walls combined with the heat made you suddenly feel claustrophobic and the collar around your neck weighed you down. Between you and Obi-Wan, it normally would’ve been easy to break out. A tiny twitch of a finger, and the collar would be crushed. A swipe of the hand would smack the guards into a wall. Then you’d both be able to grab Rex and go. If Anakin were here, maybe you’d be able to achieve that.

It wasn’t a normal situation however.

There were others involved. If either of you even threatened to do something, they would torture a civilian, possibly even drive them to death. In your current state, you wouldn’t be able to take out the sheer number of guards quick enough before lives would be lost. They had realised that there was little in the way of physical torture that would cause a jedi to break. This, however, felt hopeless. Your hands were tied. You were hungry, exhausted, and felt overwhelmed with the sadness that practically poured out of their force signatures.

When the slaver was finally dead, you couldn’t help the sense of sick satisfaction that came with it. He deserved to die for what he did, and the subtle brush of a force signature told you Obi-Wan felt similarly. Despite being able to breathe without a collar for the first time in days, your lungs couldn’t seem to get any air, and your knees were aching, and your back was pounding with angry pain. Vaguely you remembered your knees slamming the ground and Obi-Wan kneeling near your head and calling your name.

Out of habit from the past few days, you woke up abruptly, although things were different. You started hyperventilating, and suddenly the world felt too small again. No matter what was actually happening, you couldn’t see anything except the dirty halls of the mine, the faces of the Togrutans who were tortured because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. And then blue eyes. There was a hand stroking your hair, and another trying to get you to keeping looking into the eyes. And then a whisper. It wasn’t loud, but it was comforting, soft. The words steadily became clearer and you finally noticed your surroundings. For one, instead of the smell of coal and grime, it smelt like a forest on Naboo. Instead of a metal bench, there was a mattress and a soft blanket covering your legs. The light was low, but you could see the glow of hyperspace speeding past. And Anakin.

The glow was luminating his face, which looked both soft and concentrated. You could see the shadows under his eyes that you likely mirrored. As he stopped speaking, the foggy feeling lifted, and you realised that he had been trying to force suggest you to calm down. Now that your breathing had returned to some semblance of normal, his hand moved from your face, though he didn’t stop stroking your hair.

“Are you ok?” You took a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Yeah. Yeah I think I’m ok.” It was silent for a minute before Anakin moved to sit in front of you on the bed. You sat with your back up against the wall with a pillow wedged between and your legs crossed. The meaning of the silence was clear. “I just – I don’t think that I want to talk about it yet.” You turned your head to your lap, and watched as he placed his much larger hands over your own.

“It’s okay, I understand the feeling.” The silence swept over you, the words got caught in your throat, choking you. Your eyes and throat seemed to burn. He only moved his thumb over your hand, acting as an anchor. He shoved your knee slightly, getting your attention.

“Y’know, as a wise jedi knight once told me, ‘you’re the strongest person I know, you’ll get through this’.” You laughed despite yourself, and Anakin’s hand beat yours to wiping the tears from your face.

“Thanks, Ani,” you sniffled, and you couldn’t help the warmth that flooded your cheeks when he didn’t move his hand.

“Of course, you know I’d do anything for you right? I was really worried when Obi-Wan had to carry you back here.” Your heart skipped a beat, and your stomach churned. If that wasn’t attachment, you don’t know what was. You couldn’t bring yourself to point that out however. You knew that you’d do the same for him. You sighed.

“Anakin-I” you started, but you couldn’t seem to string together the words. Your heart raised in your throat, and he gave you a momentarily confused look. “You’re amazing, you know that? You-just-I- you always seem to ‘get’ me and I really appreciate that you’re always here for me and I-um” It was something that you’d never said before. You’d felt that way for him for the longest time, but you ignored it for the code. So instead of saying it, you closed your eyes, and pushed your signature out to brush his, hoping that it carried the years of longing, and the warmth that just looking at him brought you. And then a wave of the same feeling washed over you. It made your heart jump and you almost cried at the pure joy that came from him.

And then you could feel his breath on your face, and the most cautious of kisses. It was barely there, almost just a brush of the lips, but the feelings were all there. Foreheads pressed together, two hearts racing. Cautious, because of the code, because you both knew what could happen it you strayed, because of all the secrets that would have to exist. A whisper, like he was afraid that if he said it too loud, someone else might hear him, despite it just being the two of you.

“I love you.” Both your hands flew to his cheeks and pulled him closer again, and one of his drifted from your cheek to the back of your neck to hold you there. When you kissed this time, you threw caution to the wind. He kissed just as hard as you did, and stole your breath as he did.

When you pulled apart, the look you shared said everything. You smiled and breathed out a short laugh. To hell with the kriffing code.

“I love you too.”

You supposed it was inevitable, you were the one he went to when he was mad at Obi-Wan, when he was so overwhelmed that he could barely think, when a mission hadn’t gone well and he needed to calm down. Therefore, this meant all the secret moments you were to share in the future were inevitable. You hadn’t even considered the possibility of what would happen in the future when you threw out caution. Was it inevitable that you were at least partly at fault for everything going to shit? Had that meant his fall was inevitable too?

#anakin x reader #Obi-Wan Kenobi #captain rex #clone wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #the clone wars #tcw #star wars #fanfiction #zygerria

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crystalgirl259 · 3 years

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The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 22

Chapter 22: The Frosty Rescue

"This is the best day ever!" Nelson cheered as they skated around the frozen lake. Everyone was still skating around, except Echo, who was sat on the bank with Kai's horse Flame. Kai couldn't help but agree with the child, really enjoying himself for the first time in years. As much as Kai loved his siblings, they were too busy trying to make ends meet to really have fun, with the odd exceptions of Lloyd. Their little brother was the only light Kai and Nya had in their lives.

The brunette really hoped his siblings were alright without him.

Despite things getting better between him and Cole, Kai still felt trapped within the castle, so it was nice to get out and do something, even if it was just some ice-skating. As they skated around, Echo looked up at the sky and saw the dark clouds rolling in. He frowned at this. He had thought it would be clear skies all day, so where had those clouds come from?

"We'd better hurry back guys, it's starting to get stormy." He called for the others. All four of them groaned in disappointment, but complied and started skating over to Echo and Flame. Kai mounted his faithful horse and the others transformed into their creature forms, and just as Kai was about the ride Flame home, the stallion suddenly froze. They looked past Flame's head and saw a small creature standing in the snow a few feet away from them.

It appeared to be a type of bird.

It had two small wings and four small, clawed legs, with a long tail. It had two eyes that sat lightly in its sockets with a thin, sharp beak. Its skin was thin but strong and it was covered in short, thin feathers. Its feather colors were mostly dark purple and black. It didn't look at all intimidating, being only the size of a tennis ball, but something about it set the others on the edge.

"What is that?" Ronin asked, and that set the creature off. It suddenly let out the loudest, banshee-like scream Kai had ever heard. The sound was so loud it actually hurt their ears. The sound scared Flame and he ran in the opposite direction towards the frozen lake. With the speed, he was running at Flame slipped and this caused him to break the ice, exposing the icy waters below. Kai and the others started to scream as Flame started to try and buck them off him, sending Nelson flying into the air.

He went flying into the water and sank into the darkness.

"Where is he?!" Jay cried as they jumped off the still scared Flame and started desperately looking for the child.

"HHHEEELLLPPP MMMEEE!" Nelson garbled as his head vanished again. Kai saw this and, acting solely on instinct, he jumped into the freezing lake after him. Thankfully Nelson was close to the surface so Kai could grab his arms. Unfortunately, there was a strong current pulling them away from the hole in the ice, and that combined with Nelson's added weight and lack of oxygen meant Kai couldn't swim them to safety. The others saw this and they sprang into action.

"Hold on, guys! We will save you!" Jay cried and they started scanning the ice for the pair. Jay soon found Kai under the ice, banging his fist up against it while his other hand gripped Nelson and his feet kicked furiously under them to keep them afloat. As soon as Jay saw them underneath the ice and called for the other. Ronin rushed over to Jay, pulling out his dagger, and stabbed at the ice, freeing Kai and Nelson. They both emerged from underneath the ice, cough up the water from their lungs and shivering as the cold air froze their sore limbs.

When he regained some strength, Kai fully pulled Nelson out of the water and onto the ice with the others, but he stayed in the water until he caught his breath.

"Oh, Nelson, thank God you're safe." Echo smiled in relief as he checked the child over for any injuries.

"I wasn't frightened." Nelson grinned and they all rolled their eyes. The moment of relief was shattered, however, what the little bird from before suddenly shot up into the air and stared down at the group. Kai felt like he had seen those cold, soulless eyes before. He gasped when he realized those were the eyes of that creepy man Kai had met in the forest where Cole saved him from that monster. Before he could tell the others, the bird dove into the water next to Kai and disappeared into the darkness.

It was so dark the others couldn't see what it was doing, but they could faintly make out a purple glow under the rippling water.

Kai tried to climb out of the lake to safety, but it was already too late. The bird had infected the pondweeds below with dark magic and the plants suddenly shot up underneath him and wrapped around his leg, pulling him back under the water. Kai screamed and clawed at the ice, but it was hopeless. The others all try to pull him back up, but he slipped underneath the surface. Kai struggled against the weeds around his leg, but he couldn't get away.

Suddenly he saw a dark shape floating beside him.

He squinted his eyes to see what it was and almost screamed when he saw it was the creepy man from before, giving him a sadistic and perverted grin. It almost looked like the man didn't need air. As Kai struggled, the man swam forward and suddenly forced a rough and passionate kiss on his tanned lips, catching Kai off guard. When the man finally let him go, Kai reflectively gagged, but instantly regretted it when the air in his lungs was replaced with icy water.

The evil man just smiled as he faded back into the shadows of the water, leaving Kai to his watery grave.

Kai floundered, panicked, and made things worse as he tended to do. He was mad at himself for letting this happen even. Maybe he deserved this for being so stubborn, or not thinking before he acts, or trading places with Nya and Lloyd, or being cruel, or leaving the castle grounds without Cole's permission. He could hear someone shouting his name from the surface, but he couldn't tell who it was. The water garbled the sound, and his hearing seemed to be the first sense to go.

He could taste and smell the dirty lake water choking his lungs, he fell numb to the chill of the temperature, and he saw that this was probably the end for Kai Ash Smith.

Drowning in a frozen lake after not only breaking his promise and being forced to kiss a pervert who was trying to kill. Now there was not any time to appreciate the fact he might've been friends with an actual prince. Not just any prince, but the legendary hybrid Dragon Lord. He coughed causing more water to seep in, and the sheer burn he felt in his chest told him that this was it. In his fading moments, Kai felt something big and strong wrap around him and the water rushed down past him.

All of a sudden everything came back into focus.

Kai hacked up what had to be a gallon and a half of water. Jay and Echo were stood not too far away, both looking rueful and on the verge of crying. Nelson was full-on sobbing into Ronin's shoulder as the troll tried to calm him down. But when Kai did a headcount, he saw they were all standing in front of him and none of them looked wet, with the exception of Nelson. In his exhaustion, he searched to see who had saved him from drowning and realized his feet are nowhere near the ground.

He looked up, finding his body rested in the arms of a large black dragon.

Before Kai could work himself to thank his savior, he saw the burning rage in Cole's green eyes as he looked straight ahead. His scaly face was not giving away his true emotions. Kai wanted to say something, but he felt the cold claws of sleep fighting to claim him. In his muddled state, Kai just assumed he was safe with Cole and retreated to dreamland. He rested his head against Cole's strong chest and falling asleep to the sound of his mighty heartbeat.

Cole huffed frosty air out his nose, but said nothing and started carrying Kai back to the castle on foot.

The others just stood there in a mixer of relief, fear, and sadness as they watched their master carry his pale, almost lifeless, captive back to his prison.

"What have we done?" Jay finally asked in a terrified whisper, but no one had an answer...

****************

Kai shivered as he sat on the floor of the dungeon, his wrists bound about his head in black, rusted chains. His eyes were closed and his head hung low as the cold stabbed into his tanned skin like tiny needles. A large granite door with a tiny barred window marked the only entrance to this dungeon's cell. Beyond the door was a large, dark, damp room. The cell they were in was full of rusty chains, rubble, and rat droppings. A single, dim torch allowed him to see carved out words in the stone walls, faded and forgotten by time itself, but Kai couldn't make out what they said.

When they returned to the castle, Cole had the brunette checked over to make sure he wasn't seriously injured.

Once he was sure Kai would leave, he dragged the teen to the dungeons and imprisoned him there. He didn't even bother to change Kai out of his torn, soaked clothes, and this caused Kai to shiver even more. The prince was now standing in the doorway, glaring down at Kai with burning green eyes. He hadn't said a word to Kai since he saved him, and that alone scared the teen more than anything so far.

"You said you'd never leave." He finally said, hurt, anger, and betrayal echoing through the cell.

"I-I-I wasn't trying to l-l-leave, I j-j-just wanted to have s-s-some fun w-w-with the others." He stuttered out, his entire frame shaking from the freezing air. He had thought that Cole might not have been pleased to learn he had left, but he had thought that he could reason with him and smooth it over when he learned that he had gone with Jay, Echo, Ronin, and Nelson and that he was planning on coming back. Unfortunately, Cole wasn't in an understanding mood or sympathetic to his suffering.

"You broke your word and for that, you will rot in this dungeon forever!" He snarled and stormed out the cell without another word. He made sure to slam the cell door as hard as he could as he left, the sound echoing loudly through the entire dungeon and causing Kai to flinch in fright, still not opening his eyes. As he listened to Cole stomping away, Kai couldn't stop the tears raining from his tightly closed amber orbs. He should have known better than to hope.

Cole would never be anything but a monstrous beast...

#The Flame and the Dragon #beauty and the beast #ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago ronin #ninjago nelson #ninjago echo #lavashipping

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lovelikedestiny · 3 years

Text

Snow and Ashes

Booker wants to laugh when Joe almost stumbles into a tree in the darkness in front of him, but the exhaustion weighs leaden in his bones and the past mission pulls the corners of his mouth down with sad certainty. He is content with a snort, which doesn't even sound amused, just wounded and painful.

Every one of his steps carries the weight of the innocent lives they could not save today. His hands are covered in the blood of the children who were killed a few hours ago, the sight of tears smeared faces and empty eyes has burned itself into his mind - because they made a mistake.

It was supposed to be a relatively simple mission: free the detained young women, men and children, and kick the human traffickers into Tartarus. But something went wrong. They made a shitty mistake and now the victims - people who had families who prayed for their deliverance - are dead and the world is no better place.

Booker wants to throw the responsibility of saving as many lives as possible on the ground and trample on it at times like these because he doesn't know how the hell to live with the knowledge that he let people die he could have saved.

The cries for help still echo in his ears, as well as the gunfire and the screams. Pale, non-existent fingers cling to his equipment, begging him to take them back to their families, and Booker almost chokes because his throat is suddenly too tight to breathe normally.

"The tree wasn't there two seconds ago," Joe says in an attempt to loosen the depressed mood that has settled over the four immortals like a threatening storm cloud. But his voice sounds dull and flat and when he straightens the scimitar on his back, his gloved hands shake.

Still, Booker steps in immediately to prevent Joe's attempt to come to nothing and although the words feel like broken glass in his mouth, Booker brings them out. “I bet it was just waiting to hop in your path. So that you would literally be a blockhead."

Joe doesn't laugh, but the grateful look he gives him over his shoulder is enough to take the pressure off Booker's throat a little. At least for now. “Exactly. This forest is dangerous.”

“I heard that beeches are supposed to be particularly smart,” Booker says, straightening the straps of his backpack, which dig into his shoulders as if their failure would make his backpack even heavier.

"Then I'll keep an eye on beeches," Joe says and the weak, narrow smile on his face is atypical for him and his broad grin with the radiance of the damn sun, but Booker doesn't blame him and clings to the much smaller version of this smile.

They've been wandering through the forest for two hours after rushing to leave the place on their mission after they screwed up. It's freezing, the wind feels like little blades in Booker's face, and to top it off, it looks like it is going to start to snow soon. Booker has hated snow since his first death in the icy winter of Russia and after the complete failure today he is not exactly eager to deal with snow.

The darkness has long since settled over them, but the full moon gives them enough light. Booker has no idea what time it is, and he doesn't bother to check. What does time mean when there are people whose time ended today because of them? While they are still walking around and alive despite the bullets that hit them?

At the head of their formation, Andy doesn't seem to be deciding to take a break anytime soon. Her steps are determined and harsh, though she's still limping slightly from the force of the grenade that hit her and Joe.

While her lower body was most affected and it was sheer luck that none of her legs were completely torn off, Joe had been hit mostly in the upper body. His jacket is torn, and his sweater is barely there and dark from the blood and remnants of the intestines that had previously oozed from his open abdominal wall. He protested when Nicky handed him his jacket on the grounds that his hoodie was thicker than Joe's barely existing sweater, but he put it on. And that is sorely needed.

Even Booker is already freezing in his intact, well-filled jacket and the thought of just trudging through the forest in a sweater gives goosebumps to his goosebumps. At least the numbness has disappeared from his left arm, which lurked there since one of the criminal bastards rammed a knife into his shoulder.

However, this does not lessen his exhaustion and if he is so tired, it must be worse for Joe and Andy, who suffered the most severe injuries on this mission. Without a word, he watches as Joe stumbles more and more over roots or branches, which are actually easy to see in the moonlight. And even if Andy continues to keep her tight pace, Booker reads in the way her shoulders hunch that she is drained too. There are still a few miles to go to the place, where the hut they are aiming for to gather from today's loft, is. At least if Booker's brain hasn't completely shut down yet.

There is almost nothing to be heard from behind him and if Booker had less faith in his team, his family, he would be of the firm belief that Nicky would not be walking behind him at all. As he always does, he brings up the rear this night too because he prefers to cover their backs. And although Booker doesn't hear anything from Nicky other than the occasional cracking of branches or the sounds of his weapons, he feels a little better knowing that Nicky's watchful eyes are on them.

When Joe stumbles so hard that he has to support himself on a tree trunk within his reach to avoid falling, Nicky glides past Booker more gracefully than he should be able to with all the equipment strapped to him.

One hand curves gently around Joe's neck, the other carefully grips his upper arm and he asks Joe a question so quietly that Booker can't hear him.

"Boss," Booker calls to signal Andy that they have stopped briefly, and the warrior immediately comes to a halt and turns around to them.

“We can't take a break. The fucking bastards who are still alive could be on our heels and I want to get to the fucking hut before the snow sets so that it can cover our tracks,” she says impatiently, but in her old eyes the hopelessness is visible that Booker currently prefers to drown with vodka.

"Andy, you have to rest," Nicky says quietly, without letting go of Joe, who no longer leans on the trunk, but practically clings to Nicky, even if he tries to look as if it doesn't cause him any problems to keep his footing. "Major injuries take their toll and it is not advisable to ignore your body's signals."

The fact that he speaks so steadfastly and confidently is in stark contrast to the blood that covers most of his face like a grotesque mask. Head wounds have a habit of bleeding like a stabbed pig, and although Nicky's cut was relatively small and healed quickly, the residue is all too obvious.

“It's not wise to take a break while these fuckers might be after us. We pretty much ruined their day because they lost their hostages through us and if they want revenge, I don't feel like dying in this motherfucking forest.”

The effect of her words does not go unnoticed: a muscle in Nicky's jaw twitches, Joe lowers his head as if he wants to hide and Booker can't suppress a jerk of his hands. The truth of Andy's words is like salt in a wound that cannot heal. And it shows Booker how much damage they have done today instead of helping.

The innocent are dead and those who deserve to die may hunt them down because they lost their wares to the immortals.

If Booker's stomach wasn't empty, he might throw up. Purely on principle.

Nicky doesn't look satisfied, but he doesn't argue, and Booker believes this is just because of Andy's demeanor, which is so crooked as if she could feel all her millennia to the core.

They start moving again and Booker is tempted to hold his backpack in front of him to protect himself from the razor-sharp wind that makes his eyes water. After a few meters, Joe sways slightly in front of him, but before Booker can move to help him, Nicky is already at Joe's side.

“Tesoro, you are tired. Give your body a break,” Booker hears him say.

Joe makes an indefinable hand gesture that was originally supposed to be a wave aside sign. "I'm fine," he mumbles, blinking like an owl. Booker, who knows what a deep sleeper Joe is, grimaces sympathetically. “I can go on in five minutes. Just five mnts...” The last sentence is so mumbled that Booker can only understand the content from the context.

Five minutes later, Nicky carries Joe piggyback, his own backpack on the front of his chest. Joe's faint protests are silent now, his head resting on Nicky's right shoulder and his curls brushing Nicky's cheek regularly in the rhythm of his steps.

How Nicky doesn't even falter despite his sword, the two backpacks, the sniper rifle and Joe with his scimitar, is a mystery to Booker, but it is very likely that Joe is the reason. And this tender consideration from Nicky for the love of his life on his back causes a bittersweet pain in Booker's chest.

He breathes on, however, and is relieved that the memories of his wife and babies are not surfacing in addition to today's shit and that the pain goes away as soon as it comes.

Booker really doesn't begrudge Joe and Nicky their relationship, despite the occasional touch of envy, for the two never behave cruelly, never rub their love under anyone's nose, and embrace everyone in their aura of joy. Booker is one of those people lucky enough to experience love from them. In the form of the jokes and hugs from Joe, the derisive comments and headbutts from Andy and the barely visible smiles and blankets that Nicky carefully puts over him when Booker has drunk himself into a coma again.

He is not alone in the sinking ship that the world seems to be from time to time. But sometimes it feels like that.

Because Nicky now carries Joe on his back, he has taken his position in their formation and even if Booker is not often at the tail, he has nothing to complain about. Having no one behind you has the advantage of being able to think about it without having to pay attention to how you appear to the outside world.

It's not the first time Nicky has carried Joe because he's too tired, and Booker has seen it the other way around, albeit not very often. Nicky doesn't retire until he's made sure they're safe and everyone is fine, but when he was injured so badly that he couldn't walk alone and they had to leave, Booker got the chance to watch Joe carrying Nicky.

The familiarity with which the two deal with each other always tells of the length of their relationship without needing words and it is equally fascinating and frightening: fascinating because they are the only people in this world who have been together for centuries and have reached a depth in their connection that no one will ever reach and scary because Booker doesn't want to find out what happens when one of them ultimately dies and leaves the other behind.

Nicky's lowered voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he is happy about it, preferring to concentrate on something other than his head and what is in it. "Andy, please wait.”

Her leader walks two more meters before she complies with Nicky's request and turns her head to them with a raised eyebrow in question. "What is it?"

Instead of answering her, Nicky turns to Booker and the request in his bright eyes is so clear that, for once, he doesn't have to put it into words for Booker. "If that goes wrong, you'll pick up my remains," Booker grumbles so quietly that Andy can't hear him as he walks past Nicky.

Andy takes note of his approach in silence, but then rolls her eyes when he stops next to her and takes his backpack from his back to put it on his chest like Nicky. "Fuck off, Book. I don't need to be carried.”

Andy's hard shell is easy to see through with centuries of practice and Booker sees her exhaustion as clearly as if it was broad daylight and the lines of tiredness had been circled with a marker on Andy's face. It's no wonder Nicky spotted the signs long before Booker. When it comes to their family, he never misses anything.

“I know you don't need to be carried. You don't have to tell me,” Booker replies casually, but makes no move to put his backpack back on its proper spot. "But we both know who wins when Nicky has a say in this matter, and what we need least at the moment is a discussion with that stubborn man." They both know what Booker is doing, but Andy doesn't address it and Booker pretends not to notice that she got it. "So, it would only be beneficial if we could avoid these problems by letting me carry you, even if you don't need help, right?"

As Booker follows her gaze backwards, Nicky's focus is not on them, but on the sleeping Joe, whom he carefully pushes higher on his back to get a better grip on his legs. But it is no secret that Nicky was still following their exchange closely.

With a low growl, Andy lets out a sharp gush of air through her nose, which rises into the sky in clouds of steam. “For fuck's sake, fine. But if you drop me, I'll break your nose.”

Booker coughs a strange kind of a dead laugh. "Got it." It's not the first time he's carried Andy either, during missions there is no time to make out who is carrying whom with which injury and when she climbs onto his back, he finds her warmth a little comforting.