#( from the ashes of shattered dreams )

[xradiant]

It's a strange feeling to watch her in this moment. He's not entirely sure why it is that it causes a stinging pang there in his chest. It ached somewhere inside and he wanted nothing more than to ease this moment, the tension that rose almost wildly before coming to a complete halt. He wanted to be here for her, he wanted to ensure her that she wasn't going to be alone in this. Not ever again.

"Hayley..." he softly breathed out as he reached his hand out to gently touch his hand to her shoulder, fingers toying with the ends of her hair. She looked tired, maybe a even a little beaten down after everything. "...You don't need to be scared." He wants to promise her but how does he do that? How does he give her a promise when everything worked so hard all of the time to tear them apart? "We're here. Together. That counts for something, right?" - @badasshybridqueen cont'd from here

[ghadafamily]

🚨 Vetted Fundraiser 🚨

My name is Ghada, I am 32 years old, and my life has always been filled with dreams and ambitions. I began my educational journey by studying Public Relations and Advertising in 2013. Then, I decided to broaden my knowledge and pursued a degree in Primary Education in 2016. As time went on, I felt that technology was the future, and now I am studying Information Technology, believing that knowledge is the strongest weapon to face life's challenges.

This was my home before it was destroyed🤍.

I live with my father and my younger brother Khaled. Khaled completed his studies in Accounting and works with my father. My father used to own a workshop for aluminum manufacturing, and our lives were relatively stable despite the challenges we faced.

This is my home after it was destroyed💔.

But the war did not spare us. In an instant, everything we owned was destroyed. Our home, my university, which I considered a refuge, and my father's workshop, which was our source of income, were all gone. We were forced to flee from northern Gaza and found ourselves living in a school in the Al-Zawayda area, trying to adapt to our new reality.

The killing of dreams and aspirations 💔.

This is my younger brother Khaled. He finished his university studies and was aspiring to continue his education and earn a master's degree 💪. But the war shattered his dream when his university was destroyed 🏫💔.

These are photos of our current place.💔

Despite everything I have been through, I have not lost hope. I know I must start over, but this time not alone. I want to help my family build a new life and achieve the dreams I have not given up on. To do this, I need your support. I aspire to launch a fundraising campaign that will help me travel, continue my education, and build a better future for myself and my family🤍💪.

I believe that life is lived with love and hope, and that despite all the pain and loss, a person can rise again if they find someone who believes in and supports them. My story is not just one of displacement and war; it is a story of strength and determination. I have not given up on my dreams, and I need your help to achieve them.

Your support through donations will be crucial in protecting my family from the brink of death. Every euro you contribute could play a vital role in saving our lives 🙏🏻🙏🏻.

Vetted by 🍉🍉

@gazavetters ➡️ link here

My campaign is on their verified list, number 6.

[ghadafamily2]

The university I used to attend was a gateway to hope and light for me. It was the place where I strived to achieve my dreams and build my future. But the war in Gaza spared nothing. The destruction that befell the university was devastating; its buildings are no longer standing, and the lecture halls I once sat in are now rubble. It’s as if the dream I worked so hard for collapsed with every wall that fell and every book lost under the ruins.💔

My life and future have been shattered in ways beyond words. All the efforts I put into my years of study no longer seem to matter. I had hoped to complete my education and secure a job that would help me build a decent life, but now all I see ahead is emptiness. There are no job opportunities, and the situation worsens by the day. Life is no longer the same, and each day I feel the weight of destruction not only around me but within me as well.😢

The war didn’t just take away our homes and livelihoods; it also stole our dreams and ambitions.💔

🚨🚨🚨📣📣📣

Please stand by me and my family to help us escape this dark nightmare and achieve the dream I have always dreamed of.🙏💔

Link vetted

[anqarfamily]

My campaign has been Verified and Vetted, and is now listed on the :

🌟Gaza Donations [On The List Of Fundraisers] that have been verified by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi at line number 264.

🌟Butterfly Effect project at line number 741.

And Verify & Share by :

@nabulsi @90-ghost @appsa @heritageposts @communistchilchuck @apollos-olives @vakarians-babe @sar-soor @commissions4aid-international @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @fairuzfan

From the Ashes of War: A Father’s Cry for His Children’s Future ❤️‍🩹

Imagine watching your children’s future slip away before your eyes, while their present is caught between death and injury. 💔

In a world full of painful stories, our story in Gaza is one that bleeds and cannot be ignored. I had previously started sharing our pain and hopes through my Tumblr account, where I found in you a support that eased the harshness of the days. But now, that account has been closed for reasons I cannot understand, deepening my sense of isolation in this dark world. 😞

I am Ahmed, an ordinary man whose responsibilities have become heavier than any human heart can bear. A father of five young children who look to me every day with eyes filled with fear and hope, and a husband to a woman who has proven to be a source of patience and strength in every moment. 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

This war has destroyed everything. We lost our home, our dreams, and even the simplest rights to live in peace. I once dreamed of seeing my children grow up in a safe environment, but that dream shatters day by day. 💔

The war no longer affects just our present. Our memories have been erased, every beautiful moment destroyed, and our past scattered among the ruins of homes and shattered recollections. 😢 Our present is drowning in blood and destruction, a never-ending war that follows us every second and in every place. And the future? It’s unknown, terrifying, and we have no idea what it holds for us. 😔

Every day we live here is a battle for survival. We face terror, hunger, and fear of a future we cannot predict. We hoped to find refuge, a place where we could feel safe, but even that has become unattainable. 🏚️

I have returned now with a new account and a new plea to everyone reading my words. I have no other place to turn but to your words and support. 🙏 Every share of my campaign, every financial contribution, means that I am one step closer to saving my family from this hell. I don’t ask for much. I only ask for hope – hope that my children will see a day without fear, that they will live a dignified life, and that they will find a place in this world far from the sounds of bombs and destruction. 🌱

Help me raise my voice and the voice of everyone in Gaza. We need you. 🌍 The campaign link is in the bio. Even the smallest step can make a huge difference.

@determinate-negation @serialunaliver @feluka @opencommunion @ask-muslim-anon

@womenintheirwebs @anneemay @werewolf-transgenderism @fiqrr @pansyfemme

@tesseract-s @kindaorangey @murderballadeer @tortiefrancis @deepspaceboytoy

@laz-laz-ace-pilot @irhabiya @paper-mario-wiki @27-moons @i-am-aprl

@papayajuan2019 @punkitt-is-here @jame7t @ana-bananya @rhubarbspring

@fromjannah @slicedblackolives @txttletale @thatdiabolicalfeminist @oliviawebsite

@leolaroot @incognitopolls @klingerhabibi @bookskittychad @kahin

@pangur-and-grim @romanceyourdemons @perfectlyperiwinkle @dykesbat @deathlonging

@cenobutch @appsa @turian @transmutationisms @burntoutandproud

@three-croissants @brutaliakhoa

@briarhips @bazwillendinflames

@killy @silicacid @fairuzfan @riding- @apollos-olives @acepumpkinpatrick

@laios-thorden @postanagramgenerator @thatdiabolicalfeminist

@economicinflationkink @just-complete-trash @punkitt-is-here @irradiatedcarseat

@luminesnake @eggyolkperona3000 @laz-laz @monstermashpotato

@wellwaterhysteria @iyherpei @brutaliakhoa @timogsilangan @a-shade-of-blue

@magnus-rhymes-with-swagness

@cenobutch @appsa @turian

@transmutationisms @burntoutandproud

@three-croissants @brutaliakhoa @briarhips @bazwillendinflames

GFM LINK HERE

Help me achieve this simple dream. Please, don’t leave us to face this fate alone. 🌟

If you're unable to donate, even a small amount, I kindly ask that you reblog & share this post with your friends so our message can reach the world.

[ranaibrahim]

Hi everyone, this is my story in a few words!

Fortunately, I still remember my name: Rana. I can also remember that I’m a graduate of the Faculty of English-Frensh literature then I completed my master’s studies in education.

Being from northern Gaza means that I have lived through war, aggression, siege, massacre, pain, loss, torment, and also “death”, which life here forces you to look at with your own eyes.

As October approached, the catastrophic chapters of this story dramatically unfolded. It fills my heart with darkness every moment. I open my phone gallery and scrolling up to that promising life where I no longer belong.

Pursuing my Phd education abroad with a good scholarship was always my goal which I believed would be achieved but due to the complete destruction of the city and continuing displacment from place to another, I couldn’t register in any program and I lost the chance this year.

I was working and training in a company inside “Al Jammal tower”, which is one of the largest towers housing software and languages companies in Gaza, where we were mixing commitment and fun, dreaming of a better future. But once our company became a target and was completely destroyed, my business was shattered as well as my dreams, leaving me heartless and soulless.

We are not numbers. Remember, despite the difficulties I face in Gaza and the challenges I face with courage, I always realise that my story is a small part of the stories of 2.2 million people who face difficulties and struggle to survival in harsh conditions.

🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

But there is a glimmer of hope amidst this darkness. With your support and generous donations, I can rebuild my life from the ashes and hit my goal. Every donation, no matter the size, will have a significant impact.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your unwavering support in this urgent matter.

@palestinegenocide @queerstudiesnatural @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @northgazaupdates

@apollos-olives @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vakarians-babe @90-ghost @fairuzfan

@sar-soor @fallahifag @humanvoicebox @plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural

@commissions4aid-international @international-network @nabulsi @mushroomjar

@palestine @communistchilchuck @northgazaupdates2 @ghost-and-a-half @kyra45

@the-bastard-king @feluka @sayruq @chososhairbuns @commissions4aid-international

@soon-palestine @palestinegenocide @kyra45-helping-others

[coeluvr]

New Chapter Released!

Hello, everyone! 💗

Chapter 4 brings you approximately 55k words in total.

LINK

So, in this update:

Start your journey to Vesphire! With Fadiya, Naima, and... your newly appointed not so happy guard. Rest assured that the others will join you in due time.

Along the road you will be able to speak to many people and discover many new things. Or perhaps you will see something from the past if fortune favors you.

Pick your very own animal companion! Try to think of names for the little one.

Most importantly, if you wish to then you can: shatter relationships, heal them, shed tears, let jealousy consume you, and perhaps even share a bed with someone. Be who you are.

At the end, you will reach your former home that looks so different yet so familiar. And have an odd... dream?

Thank you all for your patience and support, I hope you enjoy this new chapter. 💗

For those that are unfamiliar with the game :

Crown of Ashes and Flames is a fantasy interactive fiction game on pc and mobile. You play as the only remaining member of the royal family of Vesphire; living in the home of the man who took away everything from you.

The game is safe for those 17 and older and there are many content warnings. Make sure to read them before playing it.

Like the premise so far? Check out the pinned post and give it a try!

If you enjoyed the game, please reblog! One of the things that makes me happy is seeing others enjoy what I have created. Let me know your thoughts and rate the game as well. 💗

[shonen-brainrot]

Divorced!Bakugo, who clung to the belief that your talk of divorce was a jest until the final moments. However, when the papers arrived in the mail, disbelief gripped him. The reality struck hard — you had indeed taken the steps, filling out the divorce papers. The truth unfolded before him: you no longer wished to be Dynamight's wife.

Divorced!Bakugo, who, aware of his anger issues that you found disturbing, chose not to address or change his harsh demeanor. His gruff and ugly behavior persisted, marked by frequent outbursts and yelling directed at both you and his child. His dedication to hero work took precedence over family time, leading to his frequent absence. In addition, he exhibited controlling tendencies, exerting influence over every aspect of your life.

Divorced!Bakugo, who refused a cordial divorce, and instead chose to air your private grievances publicly. With a sadistic amusement, he watched as you struggled to maintain composure in the court.

Divorced!Bakugo, who's now haunted by the echoes of a love that once burned brightly. He now navigates the desolate landscape of solitude. In the quiet of his empty home, the walls seem to absorb the unspoken words that were never uttered during those final, bitter moments. The scent of loneliness lingers, a constant reminder of the void left in the wake of a shattered relationship.

Divorced!Bakugo, who wears a mask of indifference, concealing the cracks in his heart. The world sees the explosive hero, but beneath the surface, there's a vulnerability that only the shadows witness.

Divorced!Bakugo, who sinks into an unhealthy state of mind. The solitude that envelopes him becomes a breeding ground for toxic thoughts. Haunted by relentless thoughts of you and the child you took away, he struggles to maintain focus. Katsuki finds his concentration shattered, the clarity needed for his hero duties slipping through his fingers like sand. Mistakes become an unwelcome companion, a repetitive dance of errors that threatens the efficiency he once prided himself on.

Divorced!Bakugo, who only feels rage when news of you moving on, finding someone new, lands like a crushing blow. His heart, already battered, is now subjected to the relentless storm of jealousy and insecurity. Unable to resist the urge, Kasuki succumbs to the dark temptation of cyber-stalking, googling and scouring every available digital space for information about the new man in your and your child's life.

Divorced!Bakugo, who, in a fit of uncontrollable rage triggered by news of your new relationship, unleashes destructive fury. He obliterates every photo, every remnant of your shared life, screaming and incinerating possessions with his quirk. The once-sacred spaces of your bedroom and ground-floor office in the shared penthouse are consumed by the havoc.

Divorced!Bakugo, confronted with the aftermath of his destructive outburst, collapses in the center of what was once your shared bedroom. Tears stream down his face as he desperately attempts to salvage at least one picture from the ashes and shattered glass that now cover the floor. His heart aches with regret, and the weight of anxiety presses down on him, threatening to crush his resolve. Amid the wreckage, a glimmer of hope emerges. Surprisingly, one particular picture defies the destruction he wrought upon the room – a captured moment of you in your wedding dress and him in his sleek black suit, exchanging vows on the day of your marriage.

Divorced!Bakugo, who clutches a photo to his chest, tears streaming down his face like a torrent. In that poignant moment, he vows to transform, promising himself that he'll demonstrate his genuine wish for happiness for both you and your child, even if you've moved on. Despite shattered dreams he destroyed himself, he yearns to be a presence in your life, aspiring to salvage a friendship, a flicker of hope burning within him, praying you'll consider it.

[katakaluptastrophy]

Imagine being the Cohort soldiers from the Erebos who were sent respond to Judith's distress call.

They land to find a dead Lyctor, run through with a Cohort infantry sword, and two new Lyctors, one freshly missing an arm. I doubt either of them were particularly coherent by that stage.

And then they go to clear the inside of the building. In the room the transmission came from, there's a dead priest and an enormous pool of blood, but no sign of captain Deuteros. Her cavalier is missing an eye and seems to have been blown open from the inside.

A room down the hall is singed and splattered with blood and chunks of human flesh. Perhaps there are fragments of grey robes, or perhaps some poor psychometrist works out that they're looking at what's left of the Master Warden of his House.

Further into the building they enter a study with the words "YOU LIED TO US" daubed across an ancient and beautiful mural. The Third House cavalier lies dead on the floor, stabbed from behind. The Master Templar of the Eighth is lying dead, his throat slit, apparently by his own cavalier's sword. And his cavalier... His eyes are gone, there is something wrong with his mouth. His wrist and neck are broken. The whole room is dripping and sticky with blood and human fat.

Searching past the kitchen, they find the morgue. There's a bowl of ashes (two people's, dead before the pilgrimage even began, confirms the by now very shaken psychometrist). One of drawers lies open and the sheet has been roughly pulled off the body inside: the utterly shattered body of the Fifth House necromancer is lying there, her blouse rolled up to her ribs, a fist sized hole in her abdomen.

Neatly lying under sheets in the other drawers there are more bodies, and the preserved severed head of the Seventh House cavalier. There is no sign of his body. The Fourth House cavalier has been impaled through the chest, shoulders and legs, precisely, like an insect for display. Her necromancer...it might be easier to list the places where he hasn't been impaled. The Fifth House cavalier is just as destroyed as his necromancer: limbs broken, body horribly mangled.

Later, they find the bloodsoaked bed with "sweet dreams" daubed on the wall in blood. If they get as far as the facility, they discover the outlines of two horribly broken bodies surrounded by necromantic diagrams drawn on the floor in pen. One unremarkable room is splattered in blood and singed with spirit fire.

The building is full of collapsed skeleton constructs, seemingly mid task, as if all struck down simultaneously, and as they explore they find more dead priests. They find no sign of the Sixth or Ninth cavaliers, or the Crown Princess of the Third, or of Captain Deuteros. And from what they've already seen, this can't feel encouraging.

It's clear that this building has witnessed necromantic horrors beyond their comprehension. What were the scions of the Houses doing, or what was being done to them? What could possibly cause what they have seen?

And I can't imagine that after seeing the truth of what happened at Canaan House, that John would have taken the risk of those soldiers revealing what they had seen. After all, he's a very careful guy.

[ghada-zaki]

I am Ghada Ikrayyem, I am 23 years old and I am a Palestine refugee from Gaza.

Being the oldest sister among six girls, I've always wanted to set a good example for them. I aim to be a strong woman who breaks through any limitations to reach her goals.

Since I have always been very curious and loved taking on challenges, I chose to become a solar energy technician.

I received a training course on solar panels at UNRWA training centre in Gaza, and thanks to my achievements, I won the International Green Skills Competition from the European Union Training Foundation, which made me one of the most influential women in Palestine in 2021.

Two years ago, the European Parliament invited me in Venice, at the Annual Conference on the Global State of Human Rights, where I spoke in a panel on youth as change-makers.

I was invited to give voice to Gaza youth, and to highlight the importance and impact that education has on women’s careers in a male-dominated environment.

A job followed, opening new doors. And my ambitions didn’t stop there. I enrolled in university, pursuing a bachelor’s degree in commerce, because I wanted to become an entrepreneur in Gaza.

And then the war came. And it took everything from me: my father, my brother, my home, my room, my office, my smile, and my memories. My family and I are traumatized now, because of what we are going through.

I was looking forward to graduating and celebrating with my family. But now all my dreams and everything I owned have turned to ashes under the rubble.

I am the sole provider for my family, we have nothing left.

On the 188th day of the genocide, I have lost everything, literally everything. The Israeli occupation took my father and my deaf brother from me. They killed them with an air strike. They deprived me of my beloved father and my caring, innocent brother. We did not find any trace of my father due to the intensity of the missile’s force, which shattered his body into small pieces. He has no grave, they even deprived us of my father's body. I can't bear more losses. I don't want a luxurious life. I just want to survive. I just want to get out of Gaza with what's left of my family. We have become 10 people instead of 12.

Malnutrition gnaws at my younger siblings. Their frail bodies bear the scars of hunger. I fear their condition will worsen, their innocence fading like a dying ember.

Your donation is our lifeline. With it, we can survive. Time slips through our fingers, and I refuse to lose another loved one. Please, help us evacuate. Your generosity is our only hope, our chance to breathe beyond the blockade.

Thank you for being our beacon of compassion 🙏

Gaza, my beloved home, holds my heart. Yet, as Palestinian refugees, where are our fundamental rights? For 15 years, Gaza has been under blockade and constant fighting, leaving lasting wounds on our people and our lives. And now this terrible war.

I am trying to get out of here with all my families and collect money for this, but it is hard🥺!

Please continue talking about Gaza and what is happening here.

[burr-ell]

The narrative is one thing, but I think it's really weird for fans to think Ludinus "has a point" about the gods in general causing the destruction of the Calamity when we know better. We objectively know better. It wasn't Sarenrae mutilating Vespin Chloras into a mindless puppet. It wasn't Melora sending Zerxus manipulative dreams and visions. It wasn't the Raven Queen destroying Exandria's protections against extraplanar threats. It wasn't Kord sending fiends into two inhabited cities to slaughter people indiscriminately. It wasn't Bahamut trying to release two emperor titans to destroy the planet. It wasn't Pelor killing and resurrecting Zerxus multiple times just for kicks, calling living breathing mortals "worthless paper dolls" and "a bad first draft".

It wasn't they who were responsible for the cloud of ash covering Exandria, or even most of the casualties. We know it was "not only in the first year, but in the first moments of Calamity" as Rau'shan and Ka'mort were destroyed—to prevent unleashing them on the world and everything being lost—that a large amount of that two-thirds of living beings were killed. We know that the "eruption of ash and fire, molten stone" from the destruction of Toramunda caused by the release of energy from the Astral Leywright sent up a cloud that covered Exandria for about a hundred years—up to the point where Downfall takes place, in fact. We know who then saw that destruction, done in the name of saving the world from the worst of his carefully plotted scheme, and then decided to shatter Exandria's teeth.

It's interesting how fixated some folks have gotten on the idea of "history being written by the winners", that maybe we don't really know the truth of what happened. It's not only ironic to then give infinite benefit of the doubt to the perspective of someone we know is a liar, it effectively wishes away how much of the history we've seen play out for ourselves. Under this...let's charitably call it understanding, the gods that we objectively know caused the Calamity's destruction are never the gods being referred to as oppressors and tyrants (even when they've explicitly identified themselves as oppressors and tyrants!).

For Bell's Hells, and the people of Exandria, much of this information has in fact been lost to time, and I don't look askance at them for not knowing what happened. I do, however, look askance at the real-life people who do know what happened, who can reasonably piece together the information we've been given, and are still so desperate for Ludinus to "have a point" that they're hiding behind tautologies and clichés so they can demonize the gods regardless. Because "what if the good guys were bad" is subversive, you see. When the black-and-white mindset is true but just casts the heroes as the villains, well, that's nuance, right?

[poppy-s-rampage]

Once a Hero.

-Prologue-

Danny Phantom fought with the knowledge that at any given time he could be stricken dead. With the knowledge that his own parents, the people who brought him into this world, could be the ones to take him out permanently. The Job was already half done after all.

But no matter what, no matter his adversaries, Danny held strong. Despite the constant threat of the GIW and his parents, despites his rogues’ shenanigans and Vlad’s scheming, despite the citizen’s ungratefulness, he held his ground. Always staying true to his beliefs.

Yes, he made mistakes ,terrible ones. Yes, he has done things he would forever be ashamed of. But he never let others take responsibility for his actions. The very proof being his existence as Phantom.

There is no denying it, Danny Phantom/Fenton is a hero.

An existence to whom every victory comes hand to hand with tragedy.

An existence favored by fate.

And fate is known to be a cruel mistress.

~~~

He should have known something was up. It was too good to be true. He should have trusted his instinct. But he ignored it, choosing hope instead of the very thing that kept him alive all these years. All it took was one mistake for everything to domino into a nuclear warhead that quite literally took his everything.

And now, there he is on all four in the middle of a crater of what once was Amity Park and its surroundings. His ears ringing only able to hear the sounds of his own screams.

The once menace, once protector of a city too soon departed wailed in agony. Clutching at his wounds with a strength that reopened his sloppily made stitches. His devastated wails, only interrupted by his sobbed breath and hiccups. His throat was ripped to shreds, tainted ectoplasm pooling into his mouth and lungs while some got projected out with each wail.

Rivers of tears cascaded down his face burning his already bloodshot eyes. His unstable form glitching from ghost to human to something in between.

His once healthy balanced core was now struggling to remain whole. Cracks appearing all over, life and death fighting to preserve their precious Halfa’s existence. Danny felt his body and core beginning to give out. His consciousness finally fading. His body slowly being engulfed into the cold familiar embrace of death.

He fell on his back. His wails dying to choked wet sobs and coughs. Through his tears, Danny could only vaguely see the smoke covered nightsky. Ash falling slowly around him like snowflakes.

He could feel the cold creeping up his limbs then gripping his chest. His already dying heart being embraced by a type of cold even his core couldn’t dream to reproduce. Phantom finally fell silent, his unseeing eyes staring at the starless sky above.

Danny in his last few coherent thoughts felt the pain of his core shattering and reforming itself. It felt like his entire being was set on fire before being melded back together. He felt familiar arms cradling him close to their unbeating heart. The familiar ticking of a clock luring him into a dreamless rest.

--------------------------------------

Masterpost!

Chapter 1!

------------------------------------

Author notes:

My brain vomiting this at 3 am. I am sorry for any catastrophic grammar and english, that would be my brain short circuiting from lack of sleep. I intend to hopefully continue this story wherever it may go. You’re welcome to suggest anything or add yourself something to it.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ok but what if

What if Ghost was a knight (again) and then there's a spoiled, presumptuous lady who's bored (again)

She's the kind of princess who was dearly loved because she was a girl. No one knows why, because everyone knows girls are a liability. But she has been treasured and sheltered all her life, she always got everything she wanted, and now she's stupid enough to fall for Simon who has lived a life full of war and torment and who is not the kind of stray dog you would want to feed.

Our poor lady doesn't know she's playing with fire when she's toying with her father's (Price?) most loyal soldier: a brooding, tall, broad man who got his knighthood after this campaign or that. This outlander, Simon, catches her attention because he rarely speaks and never smiles, but makes her smallclothes wet because he has an ill look about him: a broken nose and a thin lipped, downturned mouth. This sir is looking everyone from under his brow like they're mere children in his eyes. The only time she's heard him speak is when he's barking orders in the courtyard.

She teases and teases and teases him: flirting every chance she can get, giving him soft brushes that barely remain within the bounds of propriety. She bestows heated stares that linger a little too long, she licks and parts her lips when they walk past each other in the cold, dimly lit corridors of the castle. He never returns any of her flirts.

Except the stares.

She can feel his eyes on her even when she's not looking. That coal-like stare is fixed on her wherever she goes: it's hot and cold at the same time, like embers that are kindling under long-forgotten ashes.

He's interested… But only in a way that a hungry, beaten, suspicious dog is interested when it's staring at a meaty bone, trying to decode if it's a treat or a trap.

He finally has enough one day when she dares to smile at him: softly, knowingly, like a whore in a tavern.

The gauntlet closes around her neck like an iron collar. She can smell the horses and the sweat and the dirty leather as the man she has dreamed of seizes her and pushes her back against a wall.

"Is this what you want? Hm?"

She finally hears him speak: dark, gravelly, and borderline exhausted from all the games she plays. Were he to hold her a little more tightly, she would call it a choke, a soft and slow strangling. The intensity is enough to make her heart flutter and her stare escape somewhere to the grey stone wall. There's no way she can meet that heated stare, now filled with flames and lust.

The knight she used to fantasize about is about to snap. The stoic, cold man is about to lose control at any given moment, and she's about to lose her maidenhood along with that shattered self-control.

He presses his whole body against her: leather and steel and hardened muscle, all that rough, well fed, thick flesh forged in countless battles is pressed against her frame like she is nothing but a flower. Her woolen dress is a poor shield against all the hard ridges of his armour, the pommel of his sword digs into her side painfully, but she pays it no mind. There's something equally as hard and demanding pressed against the apex between her legs. She's forced to rise to her toes from the way he drives his swollen cock up her cunt, and even if there's layers and layers of clothing between them, she can feel the heat of him.

"'S not a good idea to tease a starved dog," he snarls while watching her lose her confidence. All of it, because it was only ever a charade. A silly daydream of a silly young woman, just an attempt to distract herself, a pastime game that happened to turn into a dangerous obsession.

And he growls. He actually growls like a hound when she's suddenly so weak she can't even provide him with an answer. It's a dark rumble that meets her chest, a hot, slow breath that passes across her frightened skin. She feels like floating: his cock raises her from the ground as he tries to fuck into her through their clothes. The ironclad hand has never even seen mercy as it turns her head to the side for him to have a good sniff of her neck and hair.

"Sir," her lips tremble; her whole jaw is making it clear that she's about to cry soon. There's not enough stones on the wall for her to count if he decides to take her here. "Simon…? Please, sir. I'm a virgin…"

[nevadancitizen]

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

synopsis: The Soviet Union has been producing robots for a long time based on a miracle compound: polymer. But that was invented in 1941. The current year is 2038, and, due to rising tensions in the Arctic, Americans aren't as kind to Soviets as they once were. It's too bad you're a russki, and it's really too bad that you work in cybersecurity. And honestly, with the case Fowler has put you on, you're at risk of losing your job. It doesn't help that you're stuck with Lieutenant Hank Anderson and some new android apparently called Connor.

A Detroit: Become Human AU with elements from Atomic Heart (2023), in which the international political climate is a bit different and more prominent within the story. The Soviet Union still exists, and she's threatening America by proxy of her invasion of the Arctic.

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

tags: Robot/Human Relationships, Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Slow Burn, Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Gender-neutral Reader, Mutual Pining, Minor Character Death

small note: this fic has russian in it (i mean, obviously). i'll be posting the translations in the comments of the fics, so if you're confused, be sure to check them :)

note, continued: also, the reader in this fic is gender neutral. please do not refer to them with feminine or masculine pronouns. instead, please address them by they/them pronouns. this fic is all-inclusive and not meant to alienate anyone -- it's meant to be written so that everyone can read, no matter their personal pronouns!

CH. 1: A Silent Dog & Still Waters

CH. 2: Like a Mouse in a House Full of Cats

CH. 3: Android Autopsy (Or is it Necropsy?)

CH. 4: Without Torture, There is no Camaraderie

CH. 5: Live For a Century, Learn For a Century

CH. 6: Some Sort of Sick, Self-Inflicted Schadenfreude

CH. 7: Does Every Rabid Dog Get its Tail Docked up to the Ears?

CH. 8: Mind Palaces & Other Shattered Crystalline Dreams

CH. 9: If You Chop From the Shoulder, the Ax Will Find Your Hip

CH. 10: Either Fickle or a Friend (Or a Really Fucking Fickle Friend)

CH. 11: Only Philosophy From the Poor Rings True

CH. 12: Friends & Tobacco are Separate Things (& so are Revolutions)

CH. 13: The Joys of Soviet Technologies (or, Good, Honest Snake Oil – if There is Such a Thing!) (or, Let's Talk Homecoming (the Military Operation, not Prom)) (or, The Smallest Church in Saint-Saëns) (or, Wake up & Smell the Ashes)

CH. 14: No Misfortune is Without Blessing

CH. 15: These are the Moments

EPILOGUE: <currently being written...>

[hunnyrants]

A/N: Quick drabble I wrote while listening to Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain.

Summary: After spending several days in the Night Court, Cadre!Reader has a nightmare triggered by their unfamiliar surroundings.

Pairing: Azriel X Cadre!Reader

Warnings: PTSD, trauma induced nightmares, mentions of dying, mental torture, dissociation, angst, fear of the dark

Nightmare:

You thought it was real.

That the fire breathing bitch queen had saved you, that she had been real. It was nothing but something Maeve planted to tease you and then break you further.

You knew it.

The dream made freedom taste so real, the grass under your feet felt softer, the air was deliciously cold and fresh against your face. It smelled like snow.

But it was never real.

There is no fireheart. Maeve long since turned her to ash.

As you knelt once more before the dark queen's throne, your back aching with how long you had bowed. Utterly at her mercy. You knew Rowan was next to you, Fenrys on your right.

You knew they had the same delusions you were given. Fenrys was sobbing, he had always hated his oath and to be given a taste of freedom only to have it ripped away? And Rowan, how cruel to have to learn his true mate was not Lyria through a dream. But the savior? She died during the fall of Terrasen.

There is no escaping.

Your hands began trembling and the world started to crack and twist. Whips of darkness began cracking across your vision, and your friends began screaming.

There is no escaping.

Rowan Whitethorn was begging for his mate. His fireheart. The floor roiled underneath you and yet you could only kneel.

As Fenrys began to scream beside you, you forced your head up. Fighting against that unholy darkness that Maeve tortured you with for centuries.

Your last defiance was to look her in the eye, before the blood oath took everything from you.

But as you forced your eyes up and you caught a glimpse of violet eyes, everything shattered.

There was darkness all around you as you launched yourself from your bed, pulling your dagger with you from under your pillow.

You couldn't see.

Your magic thrashed in your veins. There were hands on your shoulders suddenly and a male's voice sounded nearby. The darkness cleared and you saw him, your fated.

Azriel.

There was something in his eyes that you couldn't place, but you didn't want to.

"Are you okay?" He sounded like he was underwater, and you weren't quite sure you weren't still dreaming until his scarred hands squeezed you.

You knew you were awake when you saw the other male out of the corner of your eye, Rhysand. Instincts told you to straighten your shoulders and make eye contact with the high lord- his eyes.

You couldn't do it.

He was trying to speak to you, but if Azriel sounded underwater, Rhysand might as well have been in another room entirely.

So you put your hands on your mates chest and pushed him away from you. Azriel hesitated, instincts likely bellowing at him to hold, to protect, to soothe.

You were beyond words.

Saying anything to either of them was too hard to even comprehend, dredging up the energy to pretend you were fine. The energy to pull yourself together and once again submit yourself to someone stronger than you made you want to bellow.

Blood curdling wrath hit you and your magic roared in answer, heating your wrecked soul. Not wrath directed at the males before you who were trying to speak to you.

You couldn't hear them anyway. You couldn't feel Azriel's hands back on your shoulders, shaking you before abruptly dropping you. You didn't register the pain in his eyes when he did either, or the magic that had erupted from you and cocooned around you.

You didn't notice that the dagger you had grabbed to desperately attempt to defend yourself from old ghosts fell from your hand and clattered to the ground.

You stared straight ahead and felt nothing at all. Until you felt Rhysand break through your mental shields.

Your very soul seemed to cave in when they fell. Rhysand felt it too, you knew. As he immediately began to pull back, knowing he pushed far too hard when your mind was this vulnerable. But as your memories and your pain swarmed to the surface? He saw it.

And Rhysand finally understood why you couldn't hold his eyes.

He saw it himself.

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Shattered Heart

Summary: 

Y/N reaches her breaking point, overwhelmed by bottled-up emotions and unspoken love. As she cries in her room, Azriel stands outside, torn by a decision that could change everything. Cassian's advice hangs in the air, but Azriel's fear drives him away, leaving hearts broken and futures uncertain.

Word Count: 1693

Warnings: Heartbreak x 1000%

Y/N:

Y/N stood alone in her room at the House of Wind, the walls closing in around her as the weight of her emotions became too much to bear. She sank to the floor, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. For decades, she had kept her feelings hidden, locked away in the deepest recesses of her heart. She had watched Azriel from afar, loving him in silence, hoping against hope that one day he might see her.

But that day never came. Instead, she watched as Azriel’s gaze lingered on Elain, his shadows curling around her protectively. She saw the way he looked at her, with a softness and warmth that Y/N had always yearned for. The realization that he was falling for Elain had been like a dagger to her heart, twisting deeper with every stolen glance, every gentle touch.

The pain had been bearable at first, a dull ache that she could manage. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the ache had grown into a searing agony. She had tried to push it down, to keep it hidden beneath a veneer of strength and indifference. But now, alone in the sanctuary of her room, she could no longer keep the facade intact.

She thought back to the moments they had shared—moments that she had cherished and replayed in her mind a thousand times. The training sessions, the quiet conversations late at night, the way his eyes would soften ever so slightly when he looked at her. She had convinced herself that those moments meant something, that they were signs of a deeper connection. But now, she saw them for what they were: fragments of a shattered dream.

Her sobs grew louder, echoing off the walls. She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth as the tears continued to flow. Each sob was a release, a cathartic expulsion of the pain that had been suffocating her.

Guilt washed over her, guilt for not being strong enough to move on, for not being able to let go of a love that had never been hers to hold. Regret followed close behind, regret for all the years she had wasted pining after someone who could never return her feelings.

Fear gripped her heart, fear that she would never find happiness, that she would always be alone, watching from the shadows as the people she loved found joy and fulfillment without her.

And then came the anger. Anger at herself for being so foolish, for allowing herself to fall so deeply in love with someone who saw her as nothing more than a friend. Anger at Azriel for being so blind to her feelings, for not seeing the pain he was causing her.

She cried until she had no more tears left to shed, her body exhausted and her heart shattered. The room was silent now, save for the soft sound of her ragged breathing. She felt hollow, emptied of all the emotions that had consumed her for so long.

In the quiet aftermath, a sense of resignation settled over her. She knew she couldn’t continue like this, trapped in a cycle of unrequited love and heartache. She needed to find a way to move on, to heal the wounds that had been torn open.

But for now, all she could do was sit in the darkness, letting the remnants of her shattered heart fall around her like ashes.

She would pick up the pieces tomorrow. But tonight, she would allow herself to grieve for the love she had lost, the dreams that would never come true, and the future that had slipped through her fingers like sand.

And as she sat there, wrapped in the cocoon of her pain, she made a silent vow to herself: she would find a way to heal, to rebuild her heart piece by piece. It would be a long and difficult journey, but she would face it with the strength and resilience that had carried her through so many trials before.

She would survive this heartbreak, and she would emerge stronger on the other side. But for now, she would allow herself to feel everything, to mourn the love that had never been hers, and to find solace in the knowledge that even in the depths of her sorrow, she was still standing.

She would find her way back to the light, one step at a time.

Azriel: 

Azriel stood in the hallway outside Y/N’s room, his heart breaking at the sound of her sobs. Each cry, each ragged breath was a dagger to his soul. He knew he should turn away, give her privacy, but he couldn’t force himself to leave. The shadows around him whispered of her pain, amplifying his own guilt and sorrow.

For years, he had watched Y/N from a distance, admiring her strength, her resilience, and the quiet kindness she showed to everyone. He had trained with her, fought alongside her, and in every moment, he had felt his heart tighten with unspoken feelings. He loved her—loved her more than he had ever allowed himself to admit.

But he stayed away. He stayed away because he believed that she deserved better. She deserved someone who wasn’t haunted by a past filled with pain and darkness, someone who could give her the happiness and light she brought to everyone around her. He couldn’t be that person for her, no matter how much he wished he could.

Elain had been a distraction, a way to convince himself that he could feel something for someone else. But his feelings for Elain had always been platonic, a gentle warmth compared to the burning fire he felt for Y/N. Yet, he saw the way Y/N looked at him when he was with Elain, the pain she tried so hard to hide. It tore him apart, but he couldn’t bring himself to change his course.

The door to Y/N’s room remained closed, but the sounds of her crying seeped through, wrapping around him like chains. He leaned against the wall, his head bowed, his shadows restless.

“You’re torturing yourself, you know.”

Azriel looked up to see Cassian approaching, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. Cassian had always been perceptive, and Azriel knew he couldn’t hide anything from him.

“Cassian,” Azriel said quietly, straightening. “What are you doing here?”

Cassian crossed his arms, leaning against the opposite wall. “I could ask you the same thing. But I think we both know the answer.”

Azriel sighed, his gaze drifting back to Y/N’s door. “I can’t help it. Hearing her like this... it’s killing me.”

Cassian’s eyes softened. “Then do something about it, Az. You’re both suffering, and for what? Some misguided belief that you’re not good enough for her?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his shadows flickering with agitation. “She deserves better, Cassian. She deserves someone who isn’t... broken.”

Cassian stepped closer, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re not broken, Azriel. You’ve been through hell, but you’re one of the strongest people I know. And Y/N? She loves you. Anyone can see that.”

Azriel shook his head, his heart aching. “She deserves happiness. I’m not sure I can give that to her.”

Cassian placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “You don’t have to be perfect to love someone, Az. And Y/N doesn’t need perfect. She needs you. Just as you are.”

Azriel’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, his throat tight with emotion. “I’m afraid, Cass. Afraid of hurting her, of not being enough.”

Cassian’s grip tightened. “Love is a risk, Az. But it’s a risk worth taking. Don’t let fear keep you from the one person who can make you truly happy.”

Azriel looked back at Y/N’s door, the sound of her crying still echoing in his ears. He knew Cassian was right, but the fear and self-doubt were overwhelming.

“I don’t know if I can,” Azriel whispered, his voice breaking.

Cassian pulled him into a brief, fierce hug. “You can. And you will. Because you love her, and she loves you. Don’t let anything else matter.”

As Cassian stepped back, Azriel nodded slowly, his resolve hardening. But as he turned back to Y/N’s door, his courage faltered. The weight of his past, the fear of not being enough, pressed down on him like a physical force.

He took a step forward, then another, his hand reaching out toward the door. But as he heard another heartbreaking sob from within, his hand dropped to his side. The shadows around him seemed to tighten, mirroring his inner turmoil.

“I can’t,” he murmured, more to himself than to Cassian. “I can’t do this to her.”

Before Cassian could respond, Azriel turned and walked away, his heart shattering with each step. He forced himself to keep moving, even as every instinct screamed at him to go back, to hold Y/N and tell her everything.

Cassian watched him go, a look of profound sadness in his eyes. “Az,” he called softly, but Azriel didn’t stop.

As Azriel walked away, the sound of Y/N’s sobs grew fainter, replaced by the deafening silence of his own despair. He had made his choice, and it was one he would have to live with. But the thought of Y/N, alone and hurting, was a pain unlike any other.

And in her room, Y/N cried herself to sleep, the ache in her heart a mirror of the one Azriel carried with him. They were both left in a state of despair, separated by walls and the unspoken words that hung between them like a barrier they couldn’t cross.

Azriel’s shadows whispered around him, their murmurs filled with sorrow. He knew he had made a mistake, but for now, he couldn’t see a way to fix it. All he could do was keep moving forward, even as his heart begged him to turn back.

Because sometimes, the greatest battles weren’t fought on the battlefield, but within the heart. And this was a battle Azriel wasn’t sure he could win.

[adoregojo]

✘ unrequited love

summary: loves echoes through the darkness, yet there's no light to erase it.

or

↝ they like you, you don't seem to share the bits of it.

context: unrequited love, angst no comfort, !!gn reader!!, angst and also angst, mention of blood, character: isagi, bachira, nagi, rin.

Isagi.y

he felt his heart break a bit, didn't shatter. just a little crack that made him lose his breathing track for a second.

he has to take a step back from you, to 'comprehend’ it, and by that he means living his ordinary road, just with a new layer of wretchedness. He really tried going on his old ways, yet his attempts were futile. He wouldn't utter a tune on breakfast with his family, his friends would ask him why he stuck to the mud all of a sudden, he would woolgather like there was a castle in the sky, in class, in practice to the locker room.

he would walk back home, stare at the mirror, and surveyed his features. fingers crossed his face, did he perhaps not fit the standards? more importantly, your standards? he does realize that he wasn't that much of an eye candy, but he definitely wasn't an eyesore either. did he look too basic? he’ve always been told that by his teammates一yet you always told him that they're just jealous that they don't carry the most splendid, navy blue pairs of eyes around really一god, he really missed you.

he tried, he really did try to connect the puzzle, solve it to get the idea out of your mind. laying in bed with his hands behind his head, his ceiling seems to be the most interesting thing to ever exist. Was he not your ideal type? you always told him that as long as heart remains genial, it’d be good enough. did his heart come out as ruthless? well, it's not like his behavior on the field is helping.

it took him a good long days to get it, this was not a game he could fathom in a blink, this was you. he can't change what you think of him, he can't force you to see him as the almighty devotion defines that he sees you as, he can't make you love him, as much as he wishes and prays to. for once, this isn't something that his ego could grasp on, even for his sake.

he asks you to be friends again, if you were kind enough to agree, he'd be willing to get on his knees, thanking what you had left of sympathy for him. even if life never came back like it used to, as long as you're by his side, it's not the end of the world just yet.

isagi could just wish, you’d somehow discern a new corner in your heart that’ll behold as a sense of love for him, for what he had of selfishness clinging onto him, for what he had of undying love for you.

Bachira.m

he really, lived and witnessed the world ending through his eyes and mostly his heart.

to put it mildly, bachira have always been out of place. to other people, he didn't seem to reach out of his weird spot he somehow earned. you were nice though, the nicest person he had ever met, you were his special place, and the safest of all. his favorite flower and the references to cross his brush over the pearly white papers. and with all the cheesiest in the world一his universe.

it was an unyielding thing to not catch feelings for you, his ever first friend that didn't feel ashamed when hearing his name beside yours, till he found himself wanting more than just that title, for you to be his better half sounded like a paradise blessing pouring on him.

there would be dreams where he'd finally get to press his lips against yours, it's too good to be true, the warmth and the dizziness, the sweet flavor against his lips was making his mind melt to a pool, made him heat up like he was standing above a low steam stone, he wanted more, till he'd fell unconscious in your arms from the lack of air, never ever wanting it to come to an end, yet I'll eventually burn to ashes.

he never hated you, he could never. even when you uttered the words of rejection that came like a keen pain right up his chest. it hurts, more than any punch, kick or insult he'd receive. his wheel of life seemed to diminish, and his eyes began to water.

a part of him knew this was coming, even when you became something of him, there will always be a sound whispering how inadequate he'll remain, no matter how he tries.

but hey, it's bachira. the same guy that’ll always look at the brightest side. above all, it's still love, yeah? even if you didn't return it, he was grateful that he somehow got to experience it, to pick raw flowers from the backyard with the biggest, lovesick smile glued to his face. to wake up everyday just to see you again was enough reason to leap off the bed. he was glad to say he for once, had a crush, coating the fact that his feelings got smashed to a wall. he was glad to feel any sense of true love.

your existence alone in his world was the definition of bliss, maybe he was sad because he wasn't in yours.

after all, you loving him back was too good to be true. being your friend should be an honor itself, he’ll keep on telling that to himself, till he finds the right extinguisher for the fire you lit up his heart.

Nagi. S

“sei.. I'm sorry, but I don't like you that way.”

“oh.” it was light, a tune of realization. In an instant, his eyes are empty again, the world blends to a hue of gray he knows the most, and suddenly sinking into a dreamless slumber for a whole day sounded like a brilliant idea.

“okay.” that's it, that's all he had to say before he's.. him again. he was nagi again, not the seishirou that fell smitten and starstruck, the one you made with your bare hands, the better version一the happiest version of himself.

he doesn't get a grasp on why he felt nothing at that moment, but at the same time he felt everything一it almost felt like he had an organ failure, but also his heart rate draw at halt. it was hard to put it on words一but what he knew, he definitely never, ever wants to experience anything like that again.

for the longest time, nagi always lends to your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours, it's been like this for the longest time. you and him, perhaps against the world一but really, it was more like you against the world while he immerse in your shadow.

he didn't mind. your light has always been overcasting. your smile was radiant, with your eyes aglow, he couldn't help but feel small. he was nothing against the brightest star to ablaze at him, and for the countless nights, he'd wondered一why him? nagi didn't exactly embrace the fact he was a slacker, he just tended to let it be this way, it was too much of a hassle to correct it一or maybe it was a truth that cannot be denied, who knows.

it was mostly his fault, for getting too used to you, for leaning on you like his own wheel of life. but he didn't want to let you go, it would be a pain一he was selfish after all.

nagi would slim down on your shoulder, he can feel your slightest tenseness. you were always comfortable, so comfortable that he could just be one with you.

“do you like me back yet?” he would ask, you say nothing. he’d inhale a soft sigh, snuggling onto you even more till his snowy locks kept on tickling the skin of your neck.

“that's okay, I'll stay here until you like me back.”

you again say nothing, but you’ll let him hold your hand, meshing your palms together. maybe he'll let go when his heart stops skipping a beat for you, or when the world comes to crumble, but they both end up with the same fate anyway, so it didn't really matter.

Rin.i

he knew he'll at some point regret this. wanting you of all people was a sin, a forbidden love.

despite his ears ringing, and his heart dropping to his core. he saw it coming, he would mutter that he'd be ready for it, just for it to sting like a sore thumb. it felt like he was collapsing on the ground with a pool of blood and tears, and all you’d do is watch with pity.

he felt bare, naked and exposed, he wanted to hide. he felt rejected and small. Suddenly he was fifteen again, pleading for his big brother to not leave him to rot in the cold, to not let the snow be the only source of comfort he had instead of a warm embrace.

for once, he had felt his heart swell with adoration一for a second, he didn't even have a name for that feeling, was was genuinely confident that you were making him somehow ill, there had to be a medical explanation for the mini heart attack he suffered from whenever he witnessed you at elation.

he allowed it to happen, he should've pushed you away more, he should've stood up his ground, he should've made more effort to strengthen his walls that you decayed with ease.

but what was there to wonder about the ‘what if's’ and the ‘maybe's’ yet again here he was, playing a secondary role in the ones he loved the most once again. digging his own grave stupidly.

for the first time in forever, he didn't feel like it was a challenge to love him, he didn't have to look at his reflection and grimace, he didn't have to be muddled by the name ‘itoshi sae’ this time, he was rin一your rin, was it bad that he wanted to live by that? it felt right to.

he knew he wasn't perfect, maybe even his flaws swamped over what he had of strengths. yet you seemed to admire him through it all, you looked at him like he was something一someone, he wanted to be that someone to you.

you managed to make everything look soft, feel warm. you stained his world with colors he thought he forgot the hues of it, he thinks he likes you a little too much.

for the longest time, rin was afraid he'll eat the life out of you, just like the maggots adore the flesh. seems like he was worried about nothing, because he’ll never be what he ought to be一yours.

you probably hate him, he did exclaimed hurtful things, he saw your eyes narrowing into a pained expression, it ached more than any rejection. he didn't know why, he was overwhelmed, angry and blinded by rage一and like the predictable itoshi he was. he revealed his cuspids and went for the throat.

he just wanted to hurt you back, that's what felt right at that moment. and yet as soon as he saw shedding tears running down your cheeks, satisfaction never came across, all he felt was a deep-seated regret. he felt ugly, sour and mean. and most of all, cruel.

and when rin sinks to his bed, he curls himself to a ball, hugging his knees to his chest. did his heart die already? or was he just too numb to feel anything at the moment? all he can sense is tiredness, so he closes his eyes to nothingness. where he dreams about you, with him in the summer breeze and cheap popsicles, and nothing bad happened to you and him.

sounds like a nice dream.