#From the SECOND they meet each other they're bringing each other peace and warmth and intrigue and joy

[natailiatulls07]

Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader

Summary - Even in the busiest of moments, Lewis and his wife can find tranquillity with each other

A/n - In honour of a British win at the British grand prix!! <3

-

The sun shone bright into our hotel room, I can feel the gentle beating of Lewis' heart underneath my ear. My eyes glanced over to the clock on the wall - it's 07.30am. His alarm will go off soon and disturb the tranquillity of the bedroom.

Like clock work, the provoking sound starts to ring from Lewis' phone and I feel his grumble from his rest. I look up gentle, our sleepy eyes meeting as a small giggle escapes my lips.

'Morning gorgeous..' I whisper softly, my hand reaching out to shut off his alarm - Luckily he doesn't need more than one to wake up.

Once again a sense of serenity falls over us again. 'We have to get up soon, race day is today' I annouce, even though I know that Lewis already knows this.

His lips forms a small pout. 'How about we stay here instead, yeah?' And then I feel him pull me closer to himself, his beard tickling me as our lips connect in a sleepy kiss. Pulling away I shake my head, laughing faintly.

'It's not just any race Lewis, it's your home race and plus you're on the front row...' I pause for a second, emphasizing my sentence a little bit. 'Even though I would love to stay here..' A smile dancing on my lips. We spend the next couple of minutes lovingly spending our last minutes of peace before a chaotic day in Silverstone.

-

Watching the roads and countrysides flow by as we drive to the track. On the window I can see little droplets, all falling down from the grey clouds in the sky.

'I feel bad for the fans..' I mutter absent-minded, turning to glance over at Lewis. 'Must be horrible camping out there.' He knows that I feel genuinely bad for the fans, something I had done multiple times growing up. His thumb, which is settled on my thigh, rubs softly in a silent sort of agreement.

'We'll bring them an exciting race to make up for it..' He reassures, feeling the same sympathy as I did. Neither of us came from silver spoon families but we worked our ways up to where we are now.

It's not before we start to pass excited fans, all of the dressed in various teams and drivers merchandise. Lewis slows the car down to wave and say hi to them, rolling down the window to take selfies with some. As I watch them patiently, I hear a knock on my own window.

This surprises me slightly but nonetheless I roll down my window as well. It's a few girl, all looking around their early twenties. 'Hi girls' I greet them politely, they all have enthusiastic smiles on their faces.

'Hi, we just wanted to say that we love you alot! We love all your work so much!' One of excitedly tells me, practically vibrating animatedly. I just laugh, my heart warming.

Another pulls out her phone, hands shakily opening her camera app. 'Can we have a selfie p-please?' She asked, a shy tone to her voice. I nod quickly, shift slightly towards the window. In the process Lewis' hand falls from my thigh to the seat, promoting him to look at me concern which I send him a comforting smile in return.

After we both snap a few selfies with fans, we continue our journey in the track. 'Those girls were happy to see you..' He laughs endearingly, his hand back on my thigh again.

'I know right, wasn't expecting it really. Was nice though..' I look over at him a wholesome smile. 'They always floak to you gorgeous, rightfully so.'

He brings his eyes away from the road for a second to meet my gaze, a frown tugging at his lips. 'Darling, you're just as successful as me..' Even after several years of marriage and several years of dating on top of that, I still get butterflies from him sometimes. 'Remind me again how many best sellings and how many mentions in the new york times you have gotten?'

I feel warmth fill my cheeks as I expect they're rosy red by now. Some how he always manages to make me feel shy and like a school girl with a crush. 'Lewis, I hate when you do this to me..' I mumble, a small smile on my lips.

He knows that I struggle to recognize my successfulness and every day he makes it his mission to remind me off it and how proud he is of me.

'Now can you understand why they wanted to see you and not me?' I nod shyly, watching the smirk on his face. 'Good..'

-

Sat in his drivers room, I sit on the sofa watching as Lewis readys himself for the race. His face is concentrated and focused as he pulls on his racing boots. In the background, his playlist is on repeat hyping him up.

I look down at my phone, checking the time and noticing a text from Lewis' mum.

Carmen: In the garage now, saved you a seat and some headphone sweetheart. How is he? xx

Whenever I would attend a race and so would Carmen, we'd always sit with eachother. She has been great to me, ever since I first met her. So I make sure to send her a quick reply before slotting my phone into my handbag.

Y/n: Thank you! All good up here, he's just get focused and ready now xx

It's not long before Lewis stands from the sofa, holding out a hand for me so that we could make our way to the garage. We both wave to fans along the way.

Once we arrive at the garage I step aside, letting him talk to his parents, the engineers, Bono and Toto. My eyes follow him before he start to come back to me. Wrapping my arms around his neck, his own wrapping around my hips.

I look up at him, my hand moving some of his hair from his face. 'You'll smash it out of the park, I know it..' I whisper, laying my head on his shoulder as I feel him gently caress my back.

Even when we both know there's people watching, we have that moment of peace between us. Some peace that Lewis always swears he needs before a race. 'Good luck, I love you..' And with a parting kiss, he is off for the national anthem as I move to my seat beside Carmen.

-

Watching an race was tense, but today had been even more anxiety inducing. My leg was continuously bouncing with every lap that counted down.

In the garage, everyone stands as we watch Lewis cross the line as the 2024 British grand prix winner on the television. I let out an excited cry, heart thumping and hands shaking.

Through the radio, we hear Bono talk to Lewis - 'Get in there Lewis! You're the man!' And then I hear his sigh of absolute relief; After so many races without a race winner, I know first hand how hard it has been for Lewis.

'Thank you so much guys! It means a lot..' His voice breaks. 'It means a lot to get this one, a big thank you to all the fans here! I love you guys!' I can hear all the emotions running through him, how much this race means to him.

When I hear Toto voice comes through the radio, I'm made aware of the tears flowing down my cheeks. Turning to Carmen to see her big smile, her eyes noticing my glisting cheeks as she pulls me into a hugs.

'He did it sweetheart! He did it!' I hear her whisper in my ear, she's just as proud of him as I am.

We don't get a chance to watch him drive around the track with the union jack as both Toto and Bono pulls us away to join everyone rushing towards Parc Ferme, make room for us to stand at the front of barriers.

The Mercedes car pulls into the first place spot and Lewis doesn't get out, and I know exactly why. He's taking these few moments to take it in.

After a few couples, the team and I watch as he jumps out celebrating before running over to us. His arms immediately moving to wrap around me and pulling me gently over the barrier. My own arms shakily wrapping around his neck.

I look up and through his helmet to see his beautiful brown eyes dripping with tears, matching my own. 'You did! I told you so! I love you so much!' I cry out.

His arms wrap around my waist even tight as he pulls me into a deep embrace. 'I did it! I- I love you so much...' There's a pause, it's only brief though. 'Thank you for everything you did! Thank you for being an amazing equal to me in marriage, I love you always and forever..' I hear him whisper, something I can only hear.

That's the beauty of our relationship. We had our own private moments, even in front of millions we could have a moment of privacy like this morning or before the race. It was what we built our relationship on, something we continue to do all the time.

-

[celestialking]

not the same anon that asked u to write more sam fics but do you think you could write a blurb or smth with Sam where reader is also a cc and after a long day of meeting people and doing twitchcon stuff reader and him just collapse onto the bed as soon as they get back to their hotel room, maybe slow soft sleepy sex, maybe not

I gotcha :> ♡ it's a bit rushed unfortunately

NSFW 18+ only - Minors/Ageless blogs DNI

Warnings: gn, praise, soft sleepy,

You both let out twin groans as you flopped onto the bed. Walking around twitchcon all day was exhausting, but well worth it.

Sam had been playing minecraft rivals half the day, but for the other half he had joined you in walking around and visiting booths and stuff. You only had to muster up the puppy eyes once to Sam; and he gladly had gotten the art work you got your fingers onto.

Every once and a while a fan would appear asking for a photo with the two of you, or approaching with a small gift. Sam would always start off by introducing himself. "Hey I'm Sam," before hugging said fan. You'd both thank them before they left.

"You know Sam, I'm pretty sure the reason they're approaching is because they know who you are," you smiled, poking fun at him.

Sam grasped your hand dragging you along with him. "Well maybe they're here for you,"

"But they only know me through you,"

"So I should stop?" He titled his head

"No. No, it's cute," you hummed.

He laughed softly before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Warmth filled your cheeks before attempting to push him away. "No mushy in public," you whined making him laugh more.

Now that you were both in bed, however, it meant relaxation time. "How was rivals?" You mumbled feeling him kiss your shoulder.

Sam took a second to say "Great," before moving his kisses closer to your neck.

"Sammy," you breathed out, giving him more room to work. Hands reached around your front pulling your back flush against his chest. His hold was firm yet gentle around you. "Too tired,"

Sam hummed, starting to reach for your pants. "Don't worry baby, I'll take good care of you," he smiled.

You allowed him to slowly undress you, his artwork of soft kisses and gentle bites were a distraction for his fingers slowly pushing into prep you.

Once he had opened you up for him and slowly pushed in, a mountain of praise flowed from his lips. Each gentle thrust was paired with an equally sweet sentence.

"Made just for me sugar,"

"Always feel so good,"

"So good for me,"

Part of you wanted to record the way his cock slowly pumped into you for later, but you were too tired to even move.

You could stay like this forever, his dick kissing against the most sensitive spots of yours. Your brain a puddle of warmth and pleasure.

Sam was whining words against your shoulder as he sped up a bit. His hips were moving on their own accord, desperately chasing a high that was closer than before.

Your body was practically molded to his, the warmth of his chest melting you.

"Sammy," you whimpered, trying to find his hands. "Close,"

His fingers interlocked with yours. "That's okay baby, go ahead. Cum for me," Sam moaned softly.

"There you go sweetheart," he praised as you trembled in his arms. Your orgasm shocking through you. With a low groan Sam followed suit, filling you up.

You both laid there in the peaceful moments to follow. The movement was minimal other than a few slow thrusts from Sam to help as ride out the ends of your highs.

After a bit Sam slowly began to pull out making you protest softly. He stopped moving keeping you half full.

"Baby we gotta shower," he kissed your head.

You could honestly barely keep your eyes open at this point. "Nap first," you slurred.

Sam adjusted himself, bringing you closer to him. "If you say so," he yawned. "You're going to complain later,"

"Future me problem..."

[starrystevie]

would LOVE

“i can’t believe you remembered this!”₁ “of course i did. you’re important to me.”

from the valentines prompt list please!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

it's nice, having days like these. days where the girls are with joyce and hop, driving their pseudo-grandparents up the walls with repeated questions and all their boundless sugar-fueled energy. days where the house seems still, nothing but the ocean waves crashing in the backyard breaking up their moments of peace. days where it's just steve and eddie, as if no time has passed, as if they were still in their 20s and nervous around each other and desperate to see their entire world reflected in the other's eyes.

it's not like they had anything special planned for this valentine's day. eddie dropped josephine and roxie off early and came back with takeout and a bottle of wine for them to share. they didn't need fancy gifts or meals or declarations of love. they just needed to be wrapped up in one another, sharing their warmth, sharing their wine, sharing their lives.

"hey, ed?" steve whispers against the side of eddie's neck as they relax on the porch swing, looking out at the waves together. if he left his lips linger on the warm skin he found, no one needed to know about it. "i gotta go grab something, scooch over."

eddie blinks lazily back at his husband, his hand pushing back his greying curls from his face before pulling the blanket up so steve can untangle himself from it. he slips his hand in his husband's and pulls him down gently to meet his lips, steve smiling as he goes willingly.

"don't start that, i won't want to stop," steve mutters with his lips still pressed to eddie's.

"then don't stop," eddie mutters back, reaching up to wrap an arm around steve's neck to keep him right where he wants him.

"mmhmm," steve regretfully pulls away. "two seconds, babe, i promise."

steve had it prepared earlier, the boombox sitting with a bright red bow on top hidden under a blanket by the couch. he even put in fresh batteries so it wouldn't die even though it was as ancient as they are. steve grabs the handle and an extra bottle of wine, bringing along the blanket from the couch because it's already starting to get cold.

"where did you find that?" eddie asks, his voice light and laced with laughter. he sets his wine glass on the table next to him and reaches for the boombox. "god, i haven't seen this since what? '99?"

steve chuckles, throws the extra blanket onto the porch swing and places the bottle of wine on the table. "it still works, too. press play."

eddie grins at steve and it's like being teleported back to '96, when they first got the house and they danced barefoot in the kitchen to whatever obscure band eddie had found that week. his grin turns soft, the wrinkles around his eyes unfold as he listens to the tinny sounds coming through the speakers.

"steve, how-," eddie breathes out, and it's so gentle, like the first touch of a spring breeze to let you know warmer months are ahead.

it's eddie singing, faint and slow over the barely there whimpers of a sleepy baby, over the sound of a music box tinging in the background, something about sunshine and skies of grey. the singing turns to humming turns to the sound of door closing and the whispers of two new fathers who have no clue what they're doing.

"you think she'll like us?" eddie on the cassette whispers. there's a soft sound of a kiss, the rustling of the camera's microphone against clothes, sounds that are easy to hear with the visuals of a vhs tape but not so much on a cassette tape.

"she'll love us," steve whispers back. the singing picks up again, even softer than before, the two of them mumbling the words to each other.

"is it on tape?" eddie in the present asks, his eyes misty behind his glasses. steve nods as the track switches over to something a little more chaotic, the sounds of roxie's first birthday bleeding out through the speakers.

"you said you wanted it for your road trips to remind you of home, so i called up dustin. sent him the vhs hard copies and he-"

eddie cuts him off with the type of kiss that steve loves best. it's searing, it's a brand, it's home. "you put our life on a tape, for me? i said that in passing, i can't believe you remembered it..."

"of course i did." it was steve's turn to be misty eyed. "you're important to me. i can't forget a single thing about you even if i tried."

they kept the tape playing until they had to rewind and start from the beginning. sounds of their kids, sounds of their family, their friends, their entire life echoing throughout the still night air. the soundtrack of the novel of steve and eddie playing through a boombox that had been with them for just as long. it was them, all mixed from some fancy software that dustin had, taking them down memory lane of the messy, crazy, perfect life they had made together.

it was love.

[callmehere-iwillappear]

IMBI is going up against 2AL in @tmntaucompetition today SO I wrote a quick one shot with CMH Leo's perspective of this fic (plus a bit extra)! Vote IMBI so they tie (and check out both AUs if you haven't yet, they're both super good!)

-

If Leo has to be honest, he wasn’t all that thrilled about the whole… multidimensional sports competition thing when he first got there. Sure, normally he would’ve been. Normally he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to have some fun and meet some alternate versions of himself and his family, compare their universes and such (and, okay, maybe watch Donnie geek out too). 

But normally he wouldn’t be, y’know, a ghost. Invisible, intangible, the works, and surrounded by people who can’t. See him. He’d thought he’d gotten past the whole dissociation thing – and to be fair, his brothers have been wearing their goggles the whole time, which definitely helps – but… seeing all these versions of himself and his brothers and knowing that they can’t see him… knowing he might as well not exist to them…

Well. It digs up some old, not-so-good feelings. 

His brothers definitely notice, as much as he tries to hide it, and they offer to leave early, but he turns them down. Judging by the looks they give each other, though, no matter what he says they’re probably going to drag him back as soon as they lose – because considering the fact that his team is effectively down a player, and one of their other players is Donnie, Leo is under no illusions that they’ll end up winning the whole thing. One round? Maybe, if they’re lucky. Depends who they’re up against. But the whole thing? No way. 

And… he can’t help but feel guilty, just a bit. He knows for a fact all his brothers would’ve loved this type of thing under any other circumstances. Hell, they still do – Raph is looking around in awe, Mikey is barely holding himself back from running around to make some new friends, and Donnie – well, it goes without saying that Donnie is basically in heaven right now. He’s actually using the speech to text function of his tech gauntlet for once, dictating notes rather than typing them so he can stim with his free hand. And Leo just knows he’s seconds away from bolting off to gather up the other Donnies and compare notes. 

… Leo doesn’t want them to give that up. Not for him. 

Not that it matters in the end, since he can’t exactly stop them if they decide to go home early. And there’s… a tiny, selfish part of him – a part that he hates – that’s. Well. Kind of relieved. Which, of course, makes him feel even more guilty, because how could he be happy about taking something away from his brothers that would make them happy?

So. Yeah. All in all, interdimensional sports tournament? Not as fun as it sounds!

And then he meets another Leo. 

Key word: meets. Because this Leo? For some reason, he can see him. And Leo doesn’t understand how until they actually talk, and he finds out they’re in the same damn boat. Well – not the exact same, other-Leo is cursed while Leo is a ghost, but tomato Hamato. The point is: this is someone who gets it. Someone he can commiserate with. And as he finds out, staring in wonder at his counterpart’s hand on his shoulder, someone he can touch. 

The nice thing about being variations on the same person is that neither of them need to say anything, the other Leo wordlessly pulling him in for a hug that Leo desperately needs. There’s no warmth from it, just an odd sort of pressure, but it’s more than he’s had in such a long time and he finds himself clinging on like he’ll die (... well, die again) if he lets go.

He can practically feel the concerned looks from his brothers, but he does his best to ignore them. And, he thinks very hard in their directions, if any of them bring up the tears that are definitely not in his eyes when he finally pulls away, he will personally ensure they will never again know peace in their lives. 

-

They end up losing their first match. It was closer than Leo had expected, if he’s honest – he was able to use his invisibility to his advantage, sneaking up on the other team and smacking the ball out of their hands and towards his own brothers. But he ends up getting distracted near the end at one point, his hand phasing through the ball instead of hitting it, and it’s all downhill from there. 

He’s not actually too upset about it – sure, it would’ve been nice to win a round or two, but considering they basically only had two and a half players versus the other group’s full team, it’s not exactly surprising. His brothers ask again if he wants to go home, and like the last time, he tells them no – except he means it this time, and he’s pretty sure they can tell from the way their expressions soften. They don’t seem too surprised at his answer, though to be fair, he’s been very noticeably in better spirits (hah) since his encounter with the other Leo. 

They’d asked, earlier, when the two Leos got bored of scaring the shells off unsuspecting bystanders and went back to their respective families. They couldn’t see the other Leo, so Leo had to explain everything to them – and their faces had softened then, too. He knows they’ve been worried about him, made sure to have at least one of them by his side at all times, and he still feels kind of guilty about that. 

But it’s… less so, now. The guilt, the anxiety, the familiar feeling of not being real… it’s all settled down, for the most part. Knowing that even just one other person sees him, understands what he’s going through, helps more than words can say. 

So, yeah, this time when his brothers offer him the chance to bail out, he just shakes his head with a smile and turns to look for a spot on the bleachers so he can cheer his new friend on.

[octopug]

I wrote this a few days ago and was very proud of how descriptive I was

"May 3rd, 2023

They're sitting next to each other on a stairwell, talking with some friends. He has his arm around her. She's leaning just the smallest bit towards him.

He watches the conversation bounce between everyone. Someone brings up the topic of eyes before everyone else leaves.

He looks in her eyes, memorizing the silver forests. He looks away, shyly.

'Sorry,' he whispers, 'she just said something about eyes and I remembered how peaceful and intricate yours are.'

'With that sort of compliment, you'd think I'd be the one blushing,' she says.

He meets her hollow moons with his chocolate birch eyes. She holds his head so he doesn't look away. She waits a few seconds.

'You can look at any part of me whenever you want. I want you to feel comfortable loving me.'

He starts bouncing his leg and looks down, flustered by how well she knows him. He looks back up at her lips, then her eyes.

'I really want to kiss you. Is that okay?'

She scoots closer. 'That sounds lovely.'

He tucks her hair behind her ear and rests his palm against her cheek.

'You're so beautiful.'

She puts both of her hands on either side of his face, with her gray sleeves, cutely, covering [every part of her hand but her fingers], and slowly kisses him.

His eyes close; he imagines cuddling up against her chest, [lying in a bed together].

He moves his hand from her cheek to her back. He slides his hand under her shirt so he can feel her soft warmth against his cold hands. He feels around her back, carving the way her bones and muscles move back into her.

She slowly reveals her hands from her sleeves to feel the way his face is sculpted. She traces his jaw, then his cheekbones, gently grazes his earlobes, and buries her sensitive fingertips into his cloud-like hair.

He stops his hands on her waist."

I'm not looking for any criticism or advice, as this isn't really my best writing, but I just thought some people would like to read this. Have a lovely day!

[seelestia]

chaotic is good methinks >:3

couldn't agree more about that!!

hoyoverse, farming tears from their fans since 2020 and using it to fuel more tragic backstories 😎

"but if you're capable, what is stopping you from adding another beginning to that end?" i'm- slskdjfklsdf i love this line so much??? honestly, you could tag these posts inside your writing tag because these are some golden masterpieces you're writing right here!

a very interesting take on albedo's reaction. he's a such complex character to write ;w;

what can i say i gotta live on as my namesake ehe :3

it's very distinct and very pretty!! enemies/co-workers to lovers trope fits him so well… do it ig i can see his charm with that personality and the wink and cheeky 'blep' of his…

ps. ❝CAN YOU KISS ME?❞ is so adorable and fluffy it gave my heart cavities 💘

- 💠

we do make a good pair of brainrotters~ and as someone who has played through genshin and honkai, i can tell hoyoverse will never let us live in peace and they do such a good job at collecting tears ;(

i didn't mean to channel my inner writer side while rambling but that is a habit of mine, it seems. but that's a good idea! let's allow everyone else to cruise through a specialized tag for our brainrots, hehe~

( includes references to v2.3 !! )

ah, truly he is. albedo is a complex character that sometimes, i struggle with deducing what could be going through his mind — but that's what makes studying his character all the more enjoyable! i eat up his lore like they're roasted skewers.... (/pos)

and 💠 anon, never feel discouraged to share your view or study on any characters with me, alright? because i don't want to come off like i'm saying my opinions are solely the right ones :( not only can i be off the mark with them, but i also love hearing takes from other people~ it just comes to show how uniquely each of us perceives things, you know? i like that a lot >:)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

also, i love your take on his reaction tho! it gives me major corrupted!albedo and teeny tiny yandere vibes 👀 fjwkkskjfsk but oooh, what if. what if.

what if albedo does manage to revive you but at the cost of his soul? the second when you awake, there is a heavy feeling present in your chest as it weighs you down. you breath, but it feels wrong.

no, you can still remember.

the pain that struck your body, the forlornness you saw on his face that day as he held you. no, you're not supposed to be here.

you're not supposed to be breathing, you stopped a long time ago. so, why are you alive? the way your heart thumps inside your chest feels like a dream.

"you're awake."

you glance to meet those very same teal eyes you've stared into so many times before. albedo, you want to cry out and embrace him but you can't find the strength to lift your limbs.

he extends his hand to your cheek, "shhh, it's okay. welcome home, [Y/N]." a soft caress but his hand lacks warmth, it's strangely cold.

your intuitions scream at you; they begin to claw at you from the inside. something is off and you can't place your hands on it as you rack through your hazy mind. so many questions you want to ask, so many things you want to say — until the moment your gaze drifts down from his mesmerizing eyes to his neck.

the diamond marking.

it's not there.

'albedo' smiles, "what's wrong, hm?" oh-so innocently he does but you're not comforted by it, not one bit.

fear paralyzes you by storm but you manage to inch away from him. no, he is not your albedo.

growing weak has its disadvantages but to bring you, albedo is willing. yet, at the same time, one of those disadvantages includes a predator hiding in hindsight, waiting for the right moment to pounce. now that the oh-so perfect subject has let down his guard, it's time for the discarded one to shine now.

tldr: albedo has grown significantly weaker after reviving you and primodial albedo uses this exact situation to his advantage, overempowering the original and replacing the place he should've gotten.

hm, what happened to the original? that's only for him to know. after all, it's thanks to you and the original's blind devotion that he finally got to take his rightful place. ha, foolish lovers.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

ah, yes enemies to lovers with heizou ... i am thinking very hard, thoughts are being thunk rn, somebody help. (/lh) heizou and his witiness. his pretty olive eyes. his fluffy hair with that headband of his. bantering with him playfully. taking walks around inazuma and stumbling upon the most random of adventures. i am perfectly alright.

although !! i've actually never done like an actual long fic or a series with chapters before. headcanons have always been my forté but maybe, i should try branching out more??? hehe, we'll see ;D

[morimallow]

Hello. This is the third and last part of Morisuke is a Nerd. Read the first and second part first and leave a like! Thank you all so much!

There you were, standing in front of your highschool gates again after 7 years. Spring is finally here. Cherry blossom petals are falling and dancing with the wind.

You were savoring the moment before finally stepping inside your Alma mater when the annoying voice of your niece interrupted your peace.

“Y/N-neesan! Let's go inside already. My friends are waiting,” she whined and grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the already-loud school spring festival.

She just dragged you to every stall that sells food and let you pay for it. Annoying devil. Just because she knows that you're a (dream profession) and they pay you well.

After an hour of roaming in the oval, she decided to go upstairs and check out the other booths. Your niece got dragged by her friends and told you to bring her back to the school gates once they're done.

Walking along the hallway leading to the library, thinking of nothing in particular, screams of delight and adoration filled your ears. You looked outside the window and you saw the Nekoma Volleyball Team when Kuroo was their captain but your eyes looked for him.

They were all wearing suits. But he caught your eyes once again. Wearing the perfect three-piece suit, hair slicked back, and a pair of sunglasses over his eyes that you missed so much.

He looked up in your direction and just assumed that he was looking at you. Your hands were over your mouth, struggling to keep your whimpers to your self and a few tears escaped your eyes. He took off his sunglasses and smiled widely at you. Wiping your tears with your hands, you smiled back at him as if you were saying, “I knew you could do it. I'm so fucking proud of you, Mori.”

After your sweet faraway encounter, his former team mates called his name so they could go on in the festival but before joining them, you swore you saw him wink at you and that almost made your knees give up. If you could control yourself around him using his charms back in highschool, but now your resistance was still the same but his charms blew up to a hundred.

You continued to walk towards the school library. You probably spent two hours there, reading books that you read back in highschool.

But then your feet dragged you to the shelf where you first met the love of your life. The wooden stool was still there and you used it to reach and grab the same Physics book. You stepped down and stayed standing there as you flip through the pages. Various solutions you and Mori did in pieces of papers were still stuck in the pages. Looks like no one used this but us?

The light dimmed as you felt him move towards you making you remember your first encounter. You waited for him to strike a conversation and he did in the most cheesy way, “Who would've thought I'd meet my mushroom in the library of all places?”

You smiled at the memory. You tried so hard to refrain yourself from jumping on him and instead replied, “You're a strange, happy man and you have my heart.”

He snaked his arms around you and placed his chin on your shoulder. Sighing contently, you relaxed in his arms and leaned your weight on him. It was the same warmth from your highschool days. The same feeling of being protected. But one thing changed. The amount of love and affection emitting from his body towards you was different. He then placed a long and loving kiss on your shoulder and whispered, “I found you.”

You smiled at his words and shook your head. You turned your head to look up at him because he grew a lot taller than you and kissed his jaw, “We found each other, Morisuke.”

You and Mori spent an hour solving problems and equations again until you both realized it was already near dark.

“Love, come. I heard awhile ago that there's gonna be a firework display in about.. ” he trailed as he looked at his watch, reading the time, “probably in a minute.”

You stood in front of the window nearest to the door and Mori placed himself behind you, giving you another back hug. Not that you're complaining. Without your knowledge, the rest of the volleyball team was behind you, phones ready. Mori, sensing that someone's watching and feeling the urge to hold you in his arms, he pulled you into a deep kiss just after the fireworks display started.

You heard some clicking of cameras followed by a series of 'fuck's, 'keep it down's, and you don't doubt one bit that you heard Kuroo saying, “Lev, are you dumb?”

But then you felt Mori smirk into the kiss. Just as he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, you asked, “You knew they were here, didn't you?”

He chuckled lightly, sending the butterflies in your stomach go into frenzy as he gave you a peck on the lips. He replied, “Or maybe I just missed you.”

“Smooth lines, Russian boy!”

“Finally grew some balls.”

“Can we go home now? It's nearly 9 o'clock.”

And a sudden thought zapped through your brain: your niece.

You looked at Mori with sadness and disappointment and said sincerely, “M-Mori, I know you're a busy man but I need to go home. I promised my niece that—”

Kuroo interrupted your sentence and asked, “Is this your niece?” and you saw that she had her legs dangling on Kuroo's shoulders.

“Y/N-neesan? Kuroo-niichan said they'd keep me safe and walk me home. I'd choose them over you everytime so go out with Yaku-nii,” the little devil of a niece you have said straight to your face.

—

Mori didn't let go of your hand even while he was driving. He'd place soft kisses whenever there's a stop sign, draw soothing circles, and throw secret glances of adoration when the road's clear.

And you just enjoyed his touch. After 7 years, he's finally back, and this time, you won't ever let him go.

After a while, Mori parked his car in an underground parking lot and rode a lift to his penthouse, all while still holding your hand.

“And welcome to my humble abode in Japan,” he said as he opened the door to his penthouse for you to come in. Humble wasn't even the right word to describe the place. It was huge enough for a family of maybe 5 or 7.. or maybe 10.

You blushed at that thought and Mori noticed this. Assuming that you're just feeling hot, he asked, “Do you maybe.. want to take a shower?”

“Oh, uhm.. ” you trailed off, thinking if a shower would do you good or just make your blush worse when you see the products he uses everyday.

Mori wasn't used to this side of you and he's kinda liking it. You're so sensitive and vulnerable when he's around when in fact back in highschool, you'd shout and scold him like how he scolds Lev.

“Mori?” you called out as you remember you didn't have any spare clothes. “Could I borrow one of your shirts?”

You heard movements from outside the bathroom of his room and heard him say, “Come out. You can wear this.”

Clutching on to your towel, you eyed the shirt laid on the bed. It was his jersey when he joined the Japan National VB Team. It covered until your mid-thigh so you didn't find the issue of not wearing shorts.

Standing up, he kissed your forehead, “I'll take a shower, too. You go rummage my kitchen for dinner.”

After whipping up something simple for dinner, you come back to his room to call him but your eyes were met with Mori's more defined back muscles with water droplets reflecting the light in the room and being absorbed by the white towel loosely hung around his hips.

He didn't notice your presence because he was too immersed texting someone on his phone. You climbed on the bed and crawled up behind him.

You slowly snaked you arms around his torso. With your fingers tracing the lines along his abs, you said with a pout, “I thought you missed me, Morisuke Yaku.”

“I do, my love. I really do. Let me just.. ” and he started typing on his phone again. You didn't want this one. He always had his eyes on you ever since highschool. And now he won't look at you even if you're clinging onto his back?

Lightly grazing your fingertips on his toned stomach, you wrapped your legs around his waist as well, as you whispered in his ear the three words you haven't exchanged in years, “I love you.”

He laughed and blushed. Putting his arm around your shoulder and giving you a peck on the lips, “I'm still very much in love with you.”

Feeling a little bolder, you shower him with kisses on his jaw, arm, neck, and the area near his ear. “A-Ah.. ”

You smirked at this new found discovery. You wondered if his ears are sensitive as well and you tested it out. Licking the outlines of his ear and nibbled the top part while sneaking whispers of ‘I love you's’ here and there. His breathing was erratic, sensitive to your tongue. His moans became harder to suppress as you make lewd wet noises with and in his ear. You kissed it tenderly, pulled away, and laughed.

His nape was warm colored with a tinge of light pink. Continuing to tease him more, your hands found and cupped his pecs, holding him in place as you breathe slowly trying to steady his breathing. “Who would've thought the great Morisuke Yaku's weakness is getting his ear lick—”

He faced you and plopped you on the bed. His towel falling down as he hovered over you. You roamed your eyes over his hot body and just as you were about to see his package, you heard his deep voice dangerously near your ear, “Eyes on me, princess. Feeling my cock molding your tight and pretty pussy into the shape of it is much better than to look, don't you agree?”

You were waiting for this day to come. For Morisuke to be your first. “Well, are you just all bark and no bite? Come at me,” you boldly said as you raise your hips to find any form of friction for your aching pussy.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he mockingly said as he lifted his lower half up away from yours. “Come at you or come inside you? Your choice, baby,” his hands started to glide up under his shirt you were wearing.

His finger purposely grazing the area near your erect nipple. Just as you were about to moan, he placed his hand on the curve of your waist, drawing circles on your stomach with his thumb. He showed you his perfect set of white then his smirk, eyes squinting with amusement, “If you won't choose, I won't even touch you all night.”

You pout at him upon hearing his words, thinking it might charm him the way he was whipped during highschool and expecting he knows your answer. His thumb moved along your lower lip and you sucked it lightly while showing him your pleading eyes. He scoffed playfully and said, “Acting cute won't make me give what you want. Use your pretty little mouth, baby doll.”

With that, you kneeled by the bed and made him sit in front of you. You grabbed the base of his erect dick, pubic hair tickling the side of your palm.

“Y/N, you don't have to—” you kissed the tip glowing in a dark shade of pink, same as your boyfriend's lips. “F-Fuck.. I'm sensitive there.” You took that as a sign to continue torturing his tip.

Your teeth grazed near the slit then you licked it, overpowering the pain by pleasure. Spitting in your hand, you used that to smoothly pump his hard cock. You looked up at him, a perfect moaning mess: his disheveled hair, sweaty torso, teeth doing a not so good job at keeping his moans at bay.

You pumped him harder, your other hand massaging his balls. “C'mon, baby. Let me hear you moan when I'm making you feel good.”

As you tried to take his whole length inside your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, he fired a handful of your hair and pushed you down, forcing you to take it whole.

“Your mouth feels so fucking warm, so fucking good,” he moaned as you gagged, unswallowed saliva dripping from your mouth. “I'm gonna fuck your hot mouth cunt and cum.”

You bobbed your head up and down in a fast pace, loud and hot groans from Morisuke became your encouragement. You felt him tense and started to shudder in pleasure. Knowing he's close, you focused your tongue on the tip and used your hand to pump the rest of his length.

“I'm cumming.. cumming, princess!” he moaned as he grabbed your head with his two hands, steadying you to shoot his cum inside your mouth.

He leaned back, propping his elbows. Not knowing where to spit, you swallowed probably half of his load when he offered to spit it on his hands.

“That was disgusting. How can people swallow that shit?” you looked at him with disgust as he washed his hands in the sink.

He walked towards you and placed you on the bed underneath him, “Well, Ms. Genius, ejaculation is part of the males' normal discharge.”

Before you could reply, he claimed your lips. He pushed your shirt up just enough to reveal your breasts with perky nipples ready for your boyfriend to nip and suck them as you moan underneath him. His hand travelled south and spreads your wet folds with his index and ring finger, the middle one is circling around your aching hole, ready to enter.

You bucked your hips, eager and impatient for his finger to enter you. And just then, he inserted his middle finger in your hot cunt, clenching around him as he enters you.

“If you're already this tight for just one finger, I wonder how good this tight pussy will wrap around my cock.” The image passed through your mind and clenched harder as he moved his finger in and out of you.

You were moaning, pulling his soft brown hair as he fingered you to heaven. “A-Ahh, fuck! Right there, Mori.. ” He briefly hit the sensitive spot in your cunt.

You let out a whimper as he took his finger out but let out a breathy moan as he positioned himself at your aching entrance.

Cupping your cheek, he looked into your eyes and said, “This will hurt but keep your eyes on me, okay?” You nodded in response as he put the tip in.

He took your hand, intertwining with yours and propped one elbow beside your head and his other hand guiding his length into you, you moaned out his name as he stretched your virgin walls.

“M-Mori, you're too big.. ” he kissed your lips as he enters you inch by inch. He groans into the kiss when you squeeze him. “Relax, baby. You'll milk me dry even before I put my whole dick inside you.”

After tons of moans and grunts, he was finally balls deep inside you. As you get accustomed to his size, you can't help but squeeze him inside you again. “S-Stop that, I'm gonna cum,” and you continued to clench around him as if testing if what he said was true.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he buried his head in the crook of your neck as he shot his load straight to your womb. Followed by his sexy moans and the feeling of his warm seed inside you made you cream his dick good.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're too good,” he said and started to move just after you both came making you both sensitive and a moaning mess.

You wrapped your legs, heels against his firm ass as he drilled your drenching pussy. “Morisuke, Morisuke.. ” you chanted and moaned his name as you were nearing your second orgasm.

With Yaku sucking on and nibbling on the skin of your delicate neck, you convulsed beneath him as he continues to thrust in you, chasing his own release. After a few more hard pumps, he buried his seed inside you for the second time. “That was so fucking good. It makes up for the seven years we've been masturbating separately, no?” he said as he laid his head on your chest.

You ran your hand to the previously slicked back hair of his and hummed to agree.

Morisuke placed a kiss on your chest, where your heart is, and said, “Let's be together until they run out of problems in Science, my love?”

You grabbed his hand, kissed it, and placed it on your cheek, “For a lifetime, my sweet.”

Masterlist

[merakisnotavailable]

MOON

Moon- verb; to behave or move in a listless manner.

-by Srishti Shivam

(written by Shivangi)

Blinded by the tears staining her cheeks, Niki closed her eyes and buried her head in her knees as she hugged her legs closer to her chest on the tiled bathroom floor, the warmth and the sound roused by the water running down her back in the constricted shower cubicle seemed to be the last string of sanity she was hanging onto, she truly felt like she would go crazy from the pain that sprouted from her broken heart, the absence of a certain someone's embrace and the deafening silence of her apartment. Moreover, she felt incomplete, insecure and listless. Why did she have to be here like this? Why was she pinning for someone who wouldn't even spare her a glance? Why did she give someone the power to turn her into the very person she swore she'd never become? and when did it start?

-3 months ago-

The soothing sounds from the air conditioner composed the background of the dimly lit room, the only source of light being the ceiling light right on top of the dressing table as Nikini added finishing touches to her makeup before leaving the house for a much needed dinner with her girlfriends.

Niki is like a breath of fresh air in a city where everyone seems to be walking in the same direction, everyone looks and dresses the same, everyone has similar goals and they seem to be rushing towards them all the time.

Surrounded by people who wore the same dull expression on their faces everyday, Niki's eyes glimmered with mischief and she'd throw her head back and laugh without a care in the world every now and then. Nikini is a woman who speaks her mind, she is an unconventionally slow paced, charismatic woman with a heightened sense of self importance.

Niki left the house and hailed a cab at 7:30 sharp, exactly half an hour before the dinner appointment had been made; being the most punctual one of the bunch came with it's own drawbacks, and one of them was waiting. Waiting for the the others to arrive after having done everything in her power to avoid getting late in the first place! Nikini had gotten used to it by now though, she arrived at the restaurant, was escorted to the table and started scrolling through her social media while she waited for the others to arrive and this is when she starts to drift off on her train of thought.

The people she is meeting up with today are her closest friends, their presence means a lot to her and if even one of them was in pain, there was no way Niki would be able to bring herself to sleep in peace, not until she had made sure that her friend is alright now.

She doesn't have a remarkable number of friends, it's just herself and her three girls; Nabi, Andy and Arya.

Work is good, she's happily busy with her life, but one could always use a catch-up with the friends! And besides that, Niki really wanted to check up on her friend Andy, who has recently come out of an excruciatingly long relationship followed by an extremely difficult breakup.

According to Niki, her friends deserved the best and only the best in life and she gets anxious whenever they start going out with a person who makes them feel otherwise, it goes without saying that Niki was not particularly fond of the way Andy had handled her feelings or even herself through the relationship as well as the breakup, but all she really could do here was give advice or even a shoulder to cry on; She could not make the choices for her friend.

This brought her back to the one thought that has been playing on a loop in her head lately; She knows that she still has a lot to learn in life, and that the future is the epitome of uncertainty itself, however, one thing she knew for sure is that she'd never become a part of the lovesick folk who are ready to roll the dice on everything they have and who they are for the only one that might not be meant for them to have in the first place.

That being said, she first needs to get a boyfriend.

Niki is brought off of her train of thought by a tap on her shoulder and as soon as she turns around, she comes face to face with Nabi who chose to wear a smile on her face that accessorizes her midnight blue dress in the best way possible, some people are effortlessly charming and this woman is definitely one of them. She gets up and greets her with a hug and sits down to talk while they wait for the others to arrive.

Andy is the next one to come and they decide to place the orders as they catch up so that the food will be ready by the time Arya makes it. While the girls are waiting for the orders to get prepared, they make a quick trip to the ladies.

On the way back to the table, Niki accidentally bumped into a stranger and impact was such that it sent her purse onto the floor and all of its contents out of it, they both started apologizing profusely as they bent down to collect the scattered belongings; the last thing she wanted was to be seen running after her lipstick as it rolled away from her in a Michelin star restaurant.

Niki only looks up once they're done collecting all of her stuff to thank the kind stranger only to be met with the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes she'd ever seen in her life. There was nothing extraordinary about them, they just felt familiar, like they carried a glint of mischief, much like herself. But she pushed the butterflies aside, thanked the guy and carried on with the night.

This was the first time they met.

The second time was at the park, when Niki had stepped out to complete her fitness target for the day and ended up meeting the cutest Golden Retriever while she sat at the bench for a little rest, the only thing that seemed off about the dog was that it didn't have anybody accompanying it at the moment.

He was definitely not a stray, if the bright blue collar around his neck was anything to go by; he looked quite young and it didn't take her that long to put two and two together and figure out that he had probably run away from his owner who will come searching soon enough.

So she started playing with the little guy to engage him and distract him from getting any farther from his owner than he already was and almost as if on que, there was a tall figure that came calling out to the dog from a distance, the cheerful barks and wagging of the tail directed towards the said person being the tell tale signs that this man was in fact the owner of the dog who's name happened to be "Toffee" of all things.

Niki bid a silent yet smiley farewell to the dog as it ran towards his owner before carrying on with her jog, the earbuds blaring with music preventing her from hearing as the stranger out to her with Toffee in his arms to thank her, eventually having to give up on it.

The next time was at the grocery store at the corner of her street. Niki was struggling to bring down a bag of chips from the top shelf with one hand and balancing another armful of snacks in the other while she was in her favorite five inch heels, her current state was probably not very graceful to look at but her ego prevented her from asking for help and right when she lost balance, she was caught in a tight embrace, the person behind her waiting for her to regain her balance and get back on her feet so that he could let go of her.

And as soon as she did, she was greeted by a familiar pair of hazel eyes and she couldn't stop her lips from curling up in a smile that reached her eyes; Thank you! she chirped at the handsome stranger No, thank YOU!! was what he said back, and then went on to explain how he was out walking his brother's pet the other day and how he lost the dog and how thankful he was for her help; the realization dawned upon her, and she told him why she happened to remember him.

That night they realized, they were in fact meeting for the third time, they first exchanged smiles, then names and then the numbers. Niki was over the moon for she could now attach a name to the handsome face of the man that she kept running into these days; " My name's May, Maynard, but everybody calls me May."

Third times' a charm, they say; it however turned out to be a tribulation that led Niki into a relationship that proved to be a blight on her self worth for a very long time.

Her relationship with May taught her what it was like to be tied to a sallow heart, to be in love with someone with her entire being but only being entitled to a part of his heart. She was so deeply in love that she found reason in everything that he did and said, she lied to herself to pretend she was not hurt or suffering, the glint in her eyes growing dull day by day. She delayed her reactions to his actions till the day she could not take anymore and then she left.

The imprints of his touch were etched into her brain in the form of memory, and all the places they went to became off limits for a while. she became exactly what Andy used to be like; The way she handled herself and her feelings for the person she loved was not something she could be proud of, even when she was the one making all the choices this time.

And the most important lesson that she learned was that, loving is hard, and it is completely possible for the perception of a person that you've created in your head and the person himself to be entirely different from each other.

It was all fun and games till the late realization hit her like a ton of bricks in the face, the dates, the fun they had together, the feeling that they got along well and were on the same page in the relationship, the memories were all reduced to nothing until the day she fell in love and he didn't.

Here it is!!

MOON, inspired by the song, " One Last Night" by Vaults.

A huge shout out to Srishti for coming up with a great source of inspiration and allowing me complete creative freedom with the plot.

Make sure to leave your suggestions and encouragement in the form of a comment, share this post if you liked it and feel free to send me prompts for my next story!

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[doyelikehaggis]

The Vampire Diaries Verse (Screw-Canon Style): Klaus Mikaelson x Stefan Salvatore x Hayley Marshall | Put your arms around me and I'm home

Requested by anonymous

For a moment, Klaus can't feel a thing. It's like he's just there, floating in an abyss of nothing, without a corporeal form. Not quite existing, but just enough for him to be aware of it. Maybe this is true death, he thinks.

Or maybe it's his punishment for every sin he's committed in his life. Not quite peace, not quite hell. A limbo of sorts, where he'll be all alone, forever accompanied by nothing but his own mind. And he's content with that. It's not endless torture, and he'll take anything over that. There would be too many possibilities for ways that he could be broken.

No, this is right. This is what he deserves, and he is okay with that. In a way, he makes peace with it in that moment. 

Then it's as if he blinks, and things slowly start to form in the abyss. It turns from pure darkness to a light shade of grey, silhouettes and objects hazy and unfocused, as if just out of reach. Colours start to seep into the picture before his eyes, and his heart starts to sink. Of course he doesn't get off with simply being isolated for the rest of eternity. 

Murmurs echo around him, drifting closer, getting clearer. His eyes narrow, trying to pick out a word, something that'll help him figure out what exactly is going on. He's supposed to be dead. If he's not dead then the hollow could still take over. Everyone, especially Hope, will still be in danger. 

Laughing catches his attention. He whips around, on high alert, already trying to shift in anticipation of a fight. But his teeth stay blunt and human. He doesn't feel himself get stronger, or angrier, or feel a need for blood. Not even the presence of magic inside of him, the curse of the hollow trying to get free. It's all...gone.

"Aw, he thinks he's still the all-powerful hybrid. Isn't that adorable?"

Klaus goes completely still. His chest constricts, the air getting caught in his lungs as his head snaps up. Something won't let him turn around, though, let him see for himself. Fear. This is a hallucination of some sort. Probably caused by the hollow. Just a mind game.

"The cutest."

His heart twists, and he really can't breathe. It's not possible. Those voices. It can't be.

But he forces himself to turn around now, his heart stuttering in his chest. And there they are. His stomach drops and he can only stare wide-eyed in disbelief at Hayley and Stefan, standing so casually in front of him. So alive, their eyes bright and full of something he never thought he'd see in either of them ever again. Both wearing smiles with this look on their faces. 

"How..." he starts, but can't figure out the rest, simply shaking his head. "This isn't..."

The amusement softens across both of their features, turning to understanding. His mind can barely keep up, trying to process it and failing. It's the Hollow. It has to be. Even in death it won't leave him be, let him rest in peace. 

"It's real, Klaus," Hayley says, and her voice sounds so real. 

He just shakes his head again as Stefan nods, confirming it. He goes to step back, but stops when Hayley reaches out, her hand settling on his shoulder. The rage that had been building at this mind game he's being forced to play fizzles out like a flame underwater. It feels like everything inside of him stills, as if the whole world slows to let him catch up. 

His eyes follow her arm to her hand. He can feel it. The gentle pressure of her fingers curling around his arm, giving a squeeze of proof. Warmth emanating from her skin, and the closer he listens, he realizes with a start, he can hear her heartbeat. The same heart that he heard being crushed. The same skin he saw catch alight under the burning sun until there was nothing left of her. Yet here she is. 

Slowly, he draws in a sharp breath, light-headed all of a sudden. He lifts his eyes to meet her soft, assuring gaze. It's not a trick. He knows, because hallucinations even get things wrong, and only the real version of Hayley has ever looked at him like that. 

"It's real," he echoes back to her, and her mouth curves a little more as she gives another, single nod. 

He doesn't think, just moves, brushing her hand off to pull her into him. Her surprise is clear, but she hugs him back, arms winding around him. Klaus can barely bring himself to remember to breathe. He can feel her. Her small, powerful body in his arms, her hair against his face. Her heart beating against his chest and beneath the skin of her neck. She's real.

The second wave of realization makes him cling tighter, his breath coming out in a harsh gasp. His eyes move without him really controlling his actions. They lock onto that familiar pair of green eyes that are shining so brightly, still holding that same look that Klaus has never felt like he earned. That he thought he had missed his chance to ever see again when he heard of his death while he was too many miles away. 

Hayley pulls back, and despite the part of him that read every single letter she wrote to him wanting nothing more than to hold onto her forever, he lets her, his gaze still locked onto Stefan. 

"Well," he breathes out, "I heard you ignored me, as per usual, and did a lousy job of taking care of yourself."

Stefan's mouth curves into a grin and a soft chuckle. "You're one to talk."

Klaus can't help but laugh in return. He's crying, he realizes, feeling the wetness around his eyes. They both are. 

"I'll admit, I've missed you," Stefan says, and holds a hand out to him with dancing eyes. "Welcome to the afterlife, old friend."

Glancing at his hand, Klaus scoffs. He doesn't even hesitate in knocking it aside and pulling him in with a hand on his shoulder instead. Stefan instantly wraps his arms tightly around him, face pressed into his shoulder. Klaus grips the base of his neck and closes his eyes. For the first time, when he exhales, it doesn't feel like a weight is crushing him. 

It doesn't feel like he's going to drown in a sea of grief and despair, but is home at last. 

Yet again, he finds himself unwilling to break apart. But he forces himself to anyway, only he doesn't let go. He leans in without worry, without thought, feeling Stefan's desire as strongly as his own. Stefan, who moves to meet him as if it's the most familiar thing in the world, as if it hasn't been decades since they last kissed. 

In his heart, it doesn't feel like it has. Everything feels right now, like a rush of memories flowing through him, dropping every barrier he had in place. The same effect that Stefan has had since that day in 1922.  He just never thought he would get a chance to feel it all again, not like this.

A throat clearing draws them apart with grins. Klaus steps back and looks over at Hayley, her eyebrows raised but a smile glinting in her eyes.

"Don't worry, little wolf, there's plenty more of me for you," he says.

Hayley rolls those brilliant eyes that he's adored since their first meeting as well. "Still obnoxious in the afterlife. Got it. Are we sure this is peace and not hell?"

"Ouch." Klaus presses a mocking hand to his chest with a wolfish grin. "And here I thought you would be thrilled to see me again."

"This is certainly better than the last time we reunited," Stefan jokes, tilting his head. "Well, sort of. We're all kind of dead this time around, so I'm not too sure about that, but at least no one is trying to kill each other. That's good, right?"

Hayley doesn't agree. A dark look crosses her face. "I was hoping it would be a lot longer before this." She looks at Klaus, and he understands the glint in her eyes before she even says it. "For Hope's sake."

He presses his lips together, swallowing down the lump in his throat and the stinging still lingering in his eyes. The reality of it had slipped him for just a moment, but now he nods, smiling sadly.

"I know," he says, then draws in a shaking breath. "But she's strong. Like her mother. She can survive this." He glances at Stefan, laying a hand on his shoulder. "And she has Caroline looking out for her, along with Rebekah and Marcel, and Freya, and even Kol."

Stefan makes a noise at that, disguising the flash of pain in his eyes at the mention of Caroline. "Kol? I'm a little more worried about her now."

"Yeah, that wasn't your most uplifting speech," Hayley agrees with humour in her voice. 

"I knew there was a reason I never wanted to introduce the two of you," Klaus says dryly, and points a finger at them. "I will not be ganged up on! Elijah will be joining us soon, I assume, and the last thing I need is three against one."

"Oh yeah, no can do, buddy," Stefan says, patting his hand. He shares a grin with Hayley. "We've gotten pretty close waiting for you over here. I don't know if we can make any promises on that one."

Hayley shakes her head. "Absolutely not."

"Alright." Klaus drops his hand from Stefan's shoulder. "I'm going to wait over there for my dear brother, far away from the two of you."

"Yeah, good luck with that because we're not going anywhere," Hayley says cheerily, and Stefan agrees.

Despite the front he's putting on, he feels an insurmountable joy. He hopes they're right, because he couldn't bear to lose either of them again. Just seeing them together feels like a blessing, something far more precious than anything he has ever been deserving of in his life.

He would be happy to listen to the two of them tease and trade jibes about him for hours, because it means they're both here with him, and happy. At peace. He understands now why he's here, somewhere in the middle of the bayou. This is his peace. Stefan and Hayley. They're his happy ending, the one thing he never thought that he would get. He's happy to be wrong.

[hhhellmouth]

But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? (1/?)

Asra lost his parents too early in his life (even though it's always too early to lose your parents), he was a child, a little kid. And albeit I know Asra was a smart and capable boy, he still heavily relied emotionally on them. Like everyone does at that age.

So he finds himself alone, scared, and wondering what happened. Where are his parents? When are they coming back? Why did they leave? He knows his parents love him, and they would never abandon him. But that doesn't change the fact that he's alone, with no one to care for him, and nobody will come to save him.

He sleeps in every corner he can find, the beach, a little frequented alley, anywhere remotely safe, really. Alone and fending for himself for three years. So you can't tell me he didn't cry himself to sleep most of those nights when he did get any sleep. Remembering the voice of his mother, teaching him riddles, with a voice full of warmth and mirth and love. And his father showing him how he paints a tarot deck, the very same tarot deck he learned with, and everything was soft touches, gentle hands and laughter guiding him. And it's all gone.

He only has the Magician now, however he's not a parental figure at all. He's patient, yes, and gentle to a fault, but also aloof and reserved. If he does something right, be it learning a new spell or reading the cards better each time, there are no hugs, no kisses. Only an eerie smile and a slight nod.

But then he finds Muriel, and he's not alone. He has a friend, a good one at that, and they stick together like glue. They go everywhere with the other, quite literally attached to the hip. They confide in each other, care for the other, so he's not on his own. But Muriel doesn't show love the same way he does. He doesn't hug him, or ruffle his hair.

No, Muriel cares for him in other ways. Intead, he brings him food and make sure he eats, he protects him from some of the less friendly kids, he looks for safe places to sleep. He cares for him the best he can and Asra knows. And he's grateful— what Muriel does is more than enough. He cares for Muriel too. He teaches him magic, heals any cut or bruise he may have, he looks for clothes that will fit him, always checks twice before leaving a place to see if he leaves his cloak behind on accident.

And then he makes another friend. He saw them once in the market. They were walking around, looking at every stall, and stopping to chat amiably with the sellers. He sees them pass by the bakery and talk with the owner. He sees them leave laughing, with pumpkin bread in the basket.

And suddenly, they see him too, and they're smiling at him, and oh god they are coming closer. But they are friendly, and beautiful, and they smell so good and what is he thinking? They say they're Y/N and then there's a pause. Asra realizes he's supposed to say his name a second too late and his whole face burns, but they just smile and he stutters an “My na–name's Asra”, while still blushing furiously.

Yet their little bubble is popped when a woman in their late forties waves her hand and calls Y/N, and he feels his heart drop when they say “Sorry, that's my aunt, I have to leave”. He nods sadly, and they smile apologetically at him. “I hope I'll get to see you again, Asra”, they say and kiss his cheek, forcing his heart to come back up to his chest at dizzying speed, so he can only nod one more time. “Here,” they hand him the whole loaf and as he's about to protest they are already running towards their aunt. He watches them leave with a smile.

He sees them many times after that, and they become friends. They even meet Muriel a couple of times, and even though he's quiet and guarded, they also become friends and thanks them for the bread (And other things like pastries they bring him and Asra). They take walks in the market, at the docks, until one time they invite him to their aunt's shop. The both of them welcome him with open arms, and it's like a slap to the face to Asra.

This is their home. They live here. It's also a shop, yes, but it's so homely, so familiar, and it feels so intimate he's devastated for a second, but Y/N and Wisteria (the aunt) are smiling warmly and hugging him, and he's so overwhelmed that he grins from ear to ear and follows them around like a puppy, taking everything in, as much as he can at once. He's surprised to find out they're both magicians, Y/N being Wisteria's apprentice.

He leaves that day with a full belly, a basket overflowing with food Y/N prepared for Muriel, and three books about runes and charms that Asra knows Muriel will devour in a day. He knows he's whipped for them, he's sure, and he won't beat around the bush. So the next time he sees them, he plans to confess. But things don't always go according to plan.

Wisteria leaves Vesuvia on a trip, and Y/N is in charge of the shop, so they can't meet him half as much as they'd both like. It's always stolen moments between customers and errands; they get a bit anxious and both Asra and Muriel try to help them. So they stay in the shop, Asra is in charge of serving customers and Muriel gets thing from high selves and the small storeroom while you deliver some things. You just look at them from the doorway and marvel at how much you love them both. Asra gets used to having you close embarrassingly fast.

Wisteria finally comes back and finds you three eating together, laughing and happy, and she can't help but think that these boys don't deserve what happened to them. So she makes an offer, and lays it out for them. “There's a house in the woods, outside the city, it belonged to me and my partner Dante, but since she left I never used it”, she smiles, sadly “I want you both to have it, it's yours if you want it”. And you just want to jump in her arms and thank her a million times, because, finally, your boys are getting what they deserve. But Wisteria is not finished. “I'll only ask one thing in return, but first... Y/N, could you please leave us alone, dear?”, you open your mouth to complain, but one look at her and you excuse yourself. “What is it?” Muriel asks, and she turns to look at them, and smiles. “Take care of them, please. They're strong, and they can take care of themselves, but good friends are rare and scarce. Stay with them”. They're living in the cabin that same night.

Asra's surprised to meet you a week later, looking rather troubled. But he has no time to question you, as he finds your lips on his the moment he's beside you. He closes his eyes and responds with a passion, hands on your hair while you knead his shirt in your hands. He does his best not to whimper into your mouth, but his yearning for more, more, more, seems to break his will. And that choked noise seems to break your trance, so you step back. “I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me! I just– You are–!” But he's kissing you again, and your chests are touching, and his hands are gripping your waist, and he smells oh, my God, so good and how can his hair be this soft? It's nearly too much, but neither of you are breaking apart.

Then, you two just stand there, foreheads touching and embracing each other. Until, “Oh, right”, and they're dragging him to the magic shop, where a little snake egg is nestled between cotton balls. “My aunt brought it with her from her trip, and put a heat spell over it”, Asra marvels at the soft, pastel purple colored egg, then he looks at you. “Since you told me your parents familiars are snakes... I thought maybe...” He knows you don't want to upset him, so you never bring up the topic around him, and he's grateful for that. So he looks at you, smiles, and says: “If I knew you would give me a present, I would have gotten you something as well”, and you're all smiles and blushes when you respond: “A kiss would do, i think”, and he kisses you once, twice... Many times.

And from then on, things change for Asra. He's not on his own, he's surrounded by love, and warmth, and people that he loves and loves him back. He has nightmares about his parents still, but now when he wakes up sweating with tears in his eyes, he has a roof over his head, and Muriel gives him a glass of water with a hand that's not bony or shaky anymore. And he feels everything settling into place slowly. He finds comfort in the little hut, but he knows he belongs with you.

Everytime you go around their home and bring gifts with you (be it pie, bread, books, sometimes even pretty flowers you pick on the way and that they set in a little vase over the hearth to humor you), he just puts the basket aside and kisses you, with his hands around your body and fighting back a smile. He seems to never get enough, and while he always checks for consent, it's a never ending display of affection. Not that anyone's complaining. Well, maybe Muriel, but that's because he catches you two making out in the bed! He sleeps there, you heathens! But when he gets dragged into a cuddle session with both of you cooing at him apologizing, he never complains again. (He totally did from time to time but you didn't hear it from me). And, alas, you notice Asra's shortage before he does.

He never let the fact sink in until you thread your finger though his white hair while reading to him one afternoon. When you're both laying in the grass under a huge tree, it's imposing height giving you a wide, cool shade. He has his head in your lap, and he's humming softly, basking in the clean smell of your clothes and the peaceful way you breath, but he realizes he is not listening to you at all. Oh, no, he was not. He was too preoccupied with feeling your fingers playing in his hair, your nails occasionally raking carefully along his scalp, the fleeting caress of your hand in his neck and shoulders... This simple touch is enough to overwhelm him, and it makes him sob into the peaceful air. And you know what's happening, of course, because you always feel like he's half of you, so you set the book aside and console him. He swears he fell in love with you deeper then, which he thought impossible. You swear you would never let him be lonely ever again.

Asra travels a lot, and explores all of Vesuvia. But he runs out of new places fast and yearns to go further, and yet he stays. He stays, and everyday you see him grow a little dimmer. You stand there watching him lose that light that seems to always shine bright around him, and start to grow a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. Asra's wanderlust has always been there, and now he's trying to drown it, and you know why. So you tell him. You tell him that wherever he choses to go, no matter how remote that place may be, he'll always know the way back home, he'll never be lost. He will always have you and Muriel to come back to. You hug him with a new-found strength, and you don't say goodbye. You don't need to. He also doesn't register the thick necklace with a blue crystal attached to it, twin to the one you have, that you laced around his neck, until he's far from home and missing you, feeling it radiate your magic like a heartbeat.

You always visit Muriel while he's away, partly because you don't want him to be alone, partly because you miss Asra a lot, and you both spend time together. He's non-verbal at times, so you just bask in the strong, calm aura he has about him and read while he shapes a piece of wood into intricate forms. He seems to find you peaceful, and at these times you find that you really do love the gentle giant. You know not to visit him too much though, seeing as he's taciturn, and too much interaction tires him out. You cut back your visits to one a week. Muriel is surprised to find himself waiting for you with a discreet smile. And he's also always more than willing to learn anything new you teach him.

Asra always comes back with tales that fill you with fascination, and leaves you admiring him with eyes full of stars. You also get to meet Faust, and she's so cute when she tastes the air around you, boops your nose and declares: “Friend!”. You just had to fall in love with the purple noodle. After a couple more travels on his own, he takes you with him. he just couldn't resist, and you find out about Asra's small house in Nopal. You relish in the details in the tiny space— the painting of constellations on the ceiling, the handmade wood figurines adorning some selves, some books you gave him. When you finally turn back, Asra's shawl is laying on a chair, with his bag on top, and he is barefoot. His shirt is almost completely undone, and oh, stars, he's glowing.

He just looks at you, but there isn’t a coy smile on his face, there is no knowing look on his eyes, as if he can read you like an open book, there is no confidence in the way he's standing there. He looks like an ethereal being, looking at you with searing intensity, unmoving and transfixed. “What is it?”, you mutter, and that seems to break him out from his trance. “Nothing... Nothing”, he's still staring, “You just look so... Beautiful, it's– it's... Unreal”. You come closer to him, a smug strut to your step, and caress his face with your fingertips. “I can show you how real I am, if you let me”, and he's taking your hand, kissing the palm, and closing his eyes as he says, “Show me how real you are, and I'll return the favor”. And he's back to the Asra you know by the time he's between your thighs. Such a shame that bliss didn't last forever.

Upon your return, you find the city drowned in panic. Apparently, there's a pandemic causing deaths by the hundreds. And there's no sign of a cure. The first thing you both do is find Muriel and Wisteria, Asra is relieved to find his friend healthy, both eyes clear and overall in good condition. You are not so lucky. Wisteria is sick, and very much so. Her eyes' scleras are red, and alarmingly bloodshot. The skin around the lids so sore it looks utterly raw. She is nothing but pale, and her veins are black and prominent under the paper thin skin of her body. She is dying, and the red plague is taking away her sanity. You are not sure is she recognizes you or not. But she's taking your hand into hers and mumbles something incoherently. A mantra of pain and exhaustion. And with that she closes her eyes, and a quiet stillness take over her. Cold, sweaty hands holding yours in a vice-line grip, and no goodbye.

You stay there, mouth clossed and tears falling, until Asra finds you. He takes one look at what's in front of him and starts to silently weep, both arms around you, rocking you back and forth. Then you let that strangled scream through. And he lets you. Wisteria is cremated, you see masked people take her away to the Lazaret. Muriel tells you all about it. How she fell sick a week after you left. How quick it deteriorated. How she forbade him of visiting her out of fear of him falling sick, too.

Apparently, your aunt wasn't the only victim. Nearly all your neighbourhood is being depleted. The kids you always saw playing around being carried away, dead and rotting, by men resembling death itself is not a vision you never saw coming. But, once again, a new problem arises.

Asra wants to leave. He wants to leave Vesuvia, and it's damned red plague, behind. He doesn't want to fall ill, and die in less than a week. And so, he tells you he wants you to come with him. Protection charms, spells, runes and the like can only do so much for you. For both of you. But you don't want to leave. That's how the fight ensues, with both of you looking at the other like they've lost their mind. Asra is not raising his voice, his eyes are cold, and you know he's scared, terrified even, but also furious. And so are you. You didn't think it would escalate so, so fast. “Are you really going to abandon them, Asra? This is your home too”, you are desperate, trying to make him understand. “No, it's not. This city's a graveyard, nothing more. We have to leave or we'll die”, you know he's right, but he sounds so... Cruel. Detached. “No”, and he's looking at you, mouth agape. “What?” “I said no. I'm staying. Do whatever you want. I am not leaving this people to die. I want to help”. For a fleeting moment, his eyes fill with emotions, looking like he's about to cry. But he doesn't. Instead he says, voice dripping with venom— “Good. Stay here, and fall sick. Die with them, I don't care. If you're too stupid to save yourself, it won't be me who does it for you”. He's gone the next morning.

You go to check on Muriel, and are surprised to find him there. He's perplexed. “This is my home, nothing will make me leave it”. You tell him what you're going to do, what your plans are. And he only nods and grunts. “You might die, you know”. It's your turn to nod. “Maybe, but I can't just sit while everyone dies... I can't run away”, he doesn't flinch at your jab, but you do. It's not his fault that Asra acted that way, but saying it out loud breaks your heart a bit more. “I'm...”, he's looking at you with a face that you've grown so accustomed to, so kind, and gentle, and familiar. With his imposing height, and capable hands, his heart of gold. Even his wooden figurines and obsession with those chickens. And you know you're doing the right thing, even if it does end up with you dead. “I'm going to do my best, Muriel”. That time, he's the one to hug you goodbye. The first time.

Heartbreak is honestly merciless, but you don't have time to take pity on yourself. You have a city to help. You're learning under a doctor, as a helping hand, a nurse of some sorts, actually. Glad you are not learning under Valdemar's sinister smile, the lanky doctor is actually kind of nice. If not dorky and childish, but he's good at what he does, and he's patient and soft-spoked with you when he's either teaching you or correcting you. He does have a strange fascination with leeches though. But he treats his patients with care, and the corpses with respect, before their moved to the Lazaret. Some of the other doctors are a bit more... Morbid, in their interest on the subject.

Asra never contacts you again, not even when you try to reach him using the necklaces. You only feel you're own magic and coldness. He never answers back. You wonder if he's gotten rid of it. That brings tears to your eyes. And that's how doctor 069 finds you. In his office, teary-eyed, and a little blue flame in your hand, enveloping the azure crystal. “You're a magician?”, you know doctors are skeptical of magic, but you can't lie now. “Yes...”, and you expect him to get rid of your help, but he doesn't. “Why are you not helping people with magic, then?”, he sounds genuinely intrigued, so you answer with the truth. “This”, you show him your hand, burning blue, “can only do so much”. He's closer now, inspecting the flame curiously. “And it certainly didn't do anything for my aunt”, with that, the fire dies out. He's looking at you like he understands, like he believes you. And you're crying again, and you're hugging him even when you know you should not. But he's embracing you awkwardly with those long arms of his and he doesn't say a word.

Nothing Julian does is working, and he's getting anxious. People keep dying by the minute and it seems unstoppable. He doesn't take care of himself at all. He never takes his eyes off that damn diary. You force him to eat, to sleep, even to take baths, and it isn't enough either. So you start spending more time with him, take on more responsibilities, to take some of the weight off his shoulders. He's thankful. And so he starts to trust you more. He opens up, slowly, and he takes more of your ideas into consideration. The blank margins of said diary start to fill with little illegible notes, your name in most of them— «YN thinks this, YN thinks that, I'll test YN's idea...» it's quite endearing, actually.

Unfortunately, all actions have consequences. One morning, while putting your work attire, the world seems to move under your feet, and next thing you know your head hits the floor, knocking you out cold. When you wake up, you're straped to one of the operatory tables in the dungeons, the ones the doctors had to prepare for the masses of sick people. Valdemar is looking at you behind their plague mask, a excited glint on those otherwise dead eyes, and when you look around you only see another doctor. It's Julian, you just know. You say his name, and he clenches his fists tight. Quaestor Valdemar answers instead. “You seem to have fallen ill...” They seem to try and remember your name, when they don't, their hands fold neatly in front of them, not really minding. “Doctor 069 has volunteered to treat you himself”. With that, they're gone.

Julian doesn't say a word, starting to take utensils out of a black, worn-out leather bag, and putting them in a little side table by your head. Each steel piece clean and glinting dangerously in the dim light. You say his name, weakly, and he doesn't look at you. You try again and he stops mid-movement, hand trembling lightly. “Is it...?”, lowering his hand, he waits for you to continue. “Is it the red plague?”. The way the mask's beak bobs up and down when he nods could be almost comical. But your eyes burn and there are tears rolling down your temples and you can't even rub them off. He does it for you.

From that moment, Julian moves his office beside you, and works tirelessly. But now you don't have the strenght to nag him to do anything. You can see his sunken eyes, the darkest bags under them, nose protuding from his face even more now, all of it under the mask, in your mind's eye. He's a mess really, and that's something coming from someone infected with a deadly desease. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, you hear him whimper apologies into thin air, head bowed. But you hallucinate from time to time, so you can't be sure.

Blood tests, those are the worst, even more so than the leeches. It feels like it torns your skin apart, and you don't think you can stand it anymore. Your mind is foggy and you can't see much, you can't even feel shame when Julian undresses you, cleans your naked body with warm, soapy water and dresses you back up. “I'm sorry”, you say breaking the silence, and it cuts the thick atmosphere like a red hot knife. He turns to look at you, startled. “I'm sorry I can't be of use”, not even sure if he can hear you, or if you're making any sense, “I'm dying and I won’t help anyone, I thought... At least...” Your face burns, «Am I crying?», you think, you didn't really believe your body had anything more to give. Julian's silent, so you make an effort and go on. “At least, I thought my body would help find a cure...”, your mouth feels dry, lips hurting, tongue abnormally heavy. “But I'll die, and I'm absolutely useless.” You think you hear a sob coming from somewhere, but you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, blacking out.

You never really come back to your senses after that, feverish dreams start meddling with reality and you are too far gone to try and tell them apart. You only hang on for one reason. To attemp to contact Asra one last time. So you focus all of the power you can muster into the necklace, which you begged julian not to take off, and listen. Nothing. One more time. Nothing, again. Desperation grows within you. Is it not working? Please, please, please... But your magic finds nothing, only a deep, dark void of nothingness welcomes you. Not sunlight, and gold, and gaiety. Asra's magic is not on the other side. You decide to just let go.

When Julian notices he doesn't hear your uneven breathing anymore, he panics and looks at you, but it's too late. What really shocks him to the core, what would be engraved into his mind for as long as his mind was untouched... would be the sad, broken smile on you face, unbothered by the death rattles taking over your chest. He runs to hold you down, fingers digging painfully on your belly, shoulder, thorax, tears fogging his vision. “No...! No, no!”, but he can't stop it, and you're getting cold already. He sees you moving your mouth, but it isn't until your lips are still and your body lax, that he understands. “Goodbye”.

Your body is put in a boat an hour later and Julian is there to see it off. The town's people look at him in either fear or resigned sorrow, and maybe even pity, too. When the boat takes off to the Lazaret, he stays there even when it's out of sight. He contemplates the island, with it's black column of smoke, like a channel where souls go, to never come back. So he imagines a flight of stairs, leading up, up, past the smoke, the fire, and the ashes. Higher than the clouds, and the stars. Somewhere safe, without pain, with nothing to fear. Far from this curse. When he turns to leave, he finds the docks are deserted. The air silent and solemn like that of a cemetery. How appropriate.

[knightsdeath]

they're sitting side by side, watching the slowly setting sun in the distance. ashe scoots himself closer to felix, linking their arms before resting his head on his right shoulder sleepily. it's quiet for a while. he likes it. after a few minutes of silence he speaks, a sort of pensive curiosity in his voice. "do you think-- do you think if there hadn't been a war, would we still have become as close as we did? do you think we would've just forgotten each other after we graduated?" he hopes not

there is a certain level of unreality to it.

this place and this time and this man and the idea of peace that surrounds them in a strange and uncertain way, as if hesitant to even consider itself a concept. the paths that they have walked to reach this place and this comfort ( or the idea of it, that is ) that brings him closer and allows their bodies to : sigh into each other.

one of the two, at least.

the learning of comfort ( or the figment of ) is a steady process that he undergoes constantly in the presence of this man and it’s the wearing away of his paranoia, for now, for a time, for these seconds and moments wherein they are together and there is nothing else to contend with / nothing else to grapple with / nothing else to attend to and there is something UNNATURAL ABOUT IT. far more than he actively wishes to acknowledge. something unsettling. like a vase shifted out of place. a blade left to rust. blood caked beneath his finger nails after washing and washing and washing. as if ————

as if he isn’t meant to be here. as if he doesn’t belong in this picture. as if he’s put on armor meant for another, molded perfectly to their form. his skin crawls.

but there’s ashe’s warmth and their shared and mingled silence before / the question that is posed and drifts so quietly through the air and / dampens the stretching rays of the sun. a question understood and comprehended but one that doesn’t warrant a true answer because the consideration of WHAT IFS are so inherently dangerous that the concept sits strangely in his chest / sticky / a thick layer of sludge on his heart that dulls its continuous beat.

if there hadn’t been a war. if and if and if and if ———— he knows the answer well enough / knows it without even truly thinking about it / knows it the way that he knows the eyes that gaze back at him in a mirror and the fall of his hair and the freckles that dot ashe’s skin. this is not a what if to agonize over in the technical sense of this is where they are and to go back into time and change everything is such an impossibility that it’s laughable.

yet to say aloud : i would have forgotten you feels like a cruelty.

but he knows himself. far better than most would begin to assume / far better now than he had when their lives had first intersected and then diverged / the tangle of his mind and the compartmentalization of anything and everything so thorough and absolute that had life continued and war hadn’t begun and they had never arrived here once more : ashe would have been so thoroughly removed from his mind / it would be as if he never existed.

no need for disbelief. he’s done it before and before and before and while the entire expulsion of his memories of ashe would have been unlikely given that he had been a TECHNICAL NONENTITY IN HIS LIFE in spite of his trailing and enthusiasm and excitement and nerves / that he would have simply / faded into the background / half-forgotten.

❝ ———— we wouldn’t be like this, ❞ it’s the honest truth ; not quite as cutting as the first option. the distance between them would have been insurmountable, in both distance and their lives and the differences that laid between them, then.

or maybe that’s his personal brand of pessimistic realism speaking.

he can feel ashe shift next to him and can imagine, with vivid clarity, the disappointment and hurt and foolish understanding that clouds his expression that was once peaceful and almost serene. felix would mourn his passing if he were anyone else ( and isn’t that always the key? if he were anyone else. if he were anyone but himself. if he were anyone but ———— ) but he doesn’t remain unmoved by the mere thought, in spite of appearances. there is that horrible tenderness that throbs in his chest that is softened and made something kinder by ashe’s warmth / thawing his frost / and the closeness that they share / and the creation of : THIS. whatever this is. he knows what this is.

❝ it doesn’t matter. we’re here, aren’t we? ❞ through war and strife and battle and bloodshed and walking over the mass graves that have been so seamlessly erected over a land that has never TRULY KNOWN PEACE / and it’s a strange concept to think that they’ve found each other / or rather that ashe has found him / and the thought is so disgustingly saccharine that it turns his stomach. like something out of a damn fairy tale, in the end.

❝ it’s useless to dwell on what if. ❞

( but there’s this : the concept of that what if. the concept of that strange and unknowable place where there is no war and there is only a tense and false peace that reigns over this land and there he would be THE DUKE TO BE and a soldier, still / would he have abandoned his house? would he have stayed? would that winter stretch eternally? skipping and skipping and skipping until it reaches autumn in the form of a SQUIRE traveling alongside a faceless and nameless and pointless knight and their paths would meet again and what would happen? what would become of them?

they wouldn’t be here / but they would be there / and would their eyes have met beneath that yawning and fathomless sky? would he know the freckles that scatter across his face and the scars that crawling along his body and the beat of his heart beneath his ear and the fall of his hair into his eyes? would they have ————

well. the truth is : no. he’s right, about some things. )

@gasbardian​ // hm