#and it makes my soul feel cold and heavy with melancholy

[always-just-red]

A/N: Poured my soul into this a couple weeks ago, am dedicating it to everyone who's similarly torn between Sylus and their original LI- especially my fellow Rafayel girlies! This is not going to help! It's going to make it worse!! 🥰

Unspoken

Sylus x Reader 🩸 (implied Rafayel x reader)

Summary: You could fix all of this if Sylus would just resonate with you. Why won't he resonate with you?

Genre: Angst, so much angst, brace yourselves

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, injury detail, blood, swearing, possibly not lore-accurate (I've taken some creative liberties with Sylus' healing abilities and MC's resonance for the sake of maximum angst, because I like to suffer!)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Like the first, warm prickle of sunlight when you step out of a cold shadow.”

“Hmm?”

“That is what you said to him, right?”

Sylus’s eyes are closed, his head leant back against the wall and his whole body heavy with tiredness. He doesn’t move as he asks you the question. Doesn’t fix you with that suffocating, crimson gaze— like he usually does— and you almost miss it. There’s a pain to his tone, accentuating the gravel of his voice, and a part of you thinks it isn’t all for the injuries you’ve set about tending to.

If he was looking at you, you would see it, wouldn’t you? That flicker of melancholy that sometimes liked to betray the rest of him. Maybe that’s why he keeps his eyes closed.

You deliberate his words, trying to ignore the way he tenses as you press gauze to a wound on his stomach. They did feel familiar: a simile dancing at edge of your consciousness, just barely out of reach. It was hard to pursue the past with the present wetting your fingertips, fresh, hot, and red.

One clue: That is what you said to him, right? Him. Him? Who was—

Ah.

Suddenly the words are your own, at the tip of your tongue, because you're saying them in a memory. You were with Rafayel in his studio, reunited and safely returned from the N109 Zone. He had been holding you close, telling you he’d missed you and that he’d been waiting forever; he was so, so bored. You’d smiled fondly. Laced your fingers through his and resonated: wanting to lose yourself in his power, wanting to forget there was any other kind of warmth. He had sighed softly. The sensation was usually buried beneath blood and battle; you’d forgotten how intimate it was.

Then he’d asked you what it felt like.  

“You heard that?” you say to Sylus.

He hums a little. “Not directly.”

“Sylus.”

His name evokes a faint interest, or perhaps it’s the way you said it: chiding, stern— like you were just getting started. His right eye opens, regarding you warily. “Mmm?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“You’ve lectured me, sweetie.” He leans back again, eyes closed. “There is a difference.”

You resist the urge to wring his neck, especially when it’s bared as invitingly as it is now. It feels calculated. Deliberate. You can almost imagine him lying there, anticipating the fatal vice of your hands. It was what he always seemed to want: to drag you into sin with him.

“I wouldn’t have to lecture you if you actually listened to me,” you reason, releasing a breath. “You can’t keep spying on me, Sy.”

He hums again: this time sceptically. “Can’t I? But you say such pretty things to him, kitten. It’s like watching a melodramatic film. I’d hate to miss it.”

“You’re jealous.”

“Maybe,” he admits with a half-hearted chuckle. “Then again, maybe not.”

You don’t know what to say, so you pretend it’s because you’re busy. Sylus’s hastily rolled up shirt has slipped downwards, catching the edge of his wound, and you lift it delicately, your fingers skirting over skin. His jaw clenches. His hands fist. His mouth is a tight line and you’re not sure what it’s holding onto more carefully: a short hiss of pain or the rest of his confession.

There are always things he isn’t telling you, but he comes closer to it at times like this, when you could do anything to him— cut his throat, collect on so many bounties— and instead you’re just… nice.

It’s the reason he doesn’t call when he’s slumped somewhere after a shootout, his Evol exhausted and his strength draining from half a dozen wounds he can’t quite heal yet. It’s the reason he lay here for who knows how many hours before you found him, rolling his eyes as you rushed to his side, because Luke and Kieran couldn’t keep their mouths shut.

You want to shout at him— want to scold him for being so goddamn stupid— but you don’t. Here you are instead, humouring him and playing nurse, when a simple resonance would suffice. He’d tried to force it before, but now, when you had thrust your hand into his and willed him to take? He’d snatched his hand back. Insisted on bearing his pain ‘the old-fashioned way’.

He was so fucking stubborn.

“What does it feel like with me?”

Sylus’s voice is gentle but his eyes are sharp— cutting into you like a blade striving for bone. It’s an unintentional violence, a jarring: I know what you’re thinking, but I’d rather hear you say it. Kindred spirits; he sees your mind and your heart and then looks at you like it isn’t a weapon. Like you should be grateful for the knife at your throat because you can trust the hand that’s holding it.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, “if you can conjure up a metaphor for your little artist, you can do the same for me.”

Something is stoked in you, and though you bite your tongue, your careful fingers slip for a moment, pressing into the tender skin at the edge of his wound. Sylus grimaces— hisses— though you could swear there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

You’d sinned, hadn’t you? “You really wanna know?”

He nods, his eyes on you again. It’s your hand on the knife, and he trusts you implicitly.  

“It’s like… the ocean, I guess.”

“Inspired.”

“Shut up—” you flick his forehead— “just listen, ok? It was overwhelming at first. Zayne, Xavier, Raf… They’re all so powerful. But you? It felt like you could drown me. Like you wanted to drown me.”

Sylus is quiet. You’re running an antiseptic wipe over the smaller scrapes on his stomach, but he doesn’t flinch.

“It was consuming,” you carry on as you work. “Frightening. There was so much of it- so much you- filling my lungs, trying to take my breath away. The entire time I could feel how fathomless it was. I knew if I stopped fighting it I would sink, and that I would never, ever stop.”

You can remember it vividly, especially when you’re as close to him as you are now. Though there’s no more dark energy, twisting around you, dragging you closer, you can still feel its grasp. You can see it, too, when you look up at him: hunger, burning red.

It isn’t a command anymore; it’s a longing.

And you both know you can’t give him what he wants.

“But then I did stop fighting,” you continue, because you can at least answer his question. “And I could still breathe. I was still… myself.” You place a hand on his knee. “It doesn’t scare me anymore, Sy. It’s vast and intimidating, but it’s… exciting, too.”

You smile and give his knee a playful squeeze. “I wanna see how deep it goes.”

He’s stoic for another moment, an apathetic gaze dropping to your hand before lifting to your lips. Then he’s smiling too, leaning closer: “I want to show you how deep it—”

“Don’t ruin it.” You push him back to the wall.

He laughs, running a hand through his white hair, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s a place in his mind where he’s closing the distance again, and he doesn’t care if you know it. You feel the heat in your cheeks betraying you, so you focus back on the man’s injuries: the gash on his stomach has already bled through your bandages. It’ll need stitches.

You sigh, starting to peel back your previous work.

“Does it hurt?” Sylus asks. “Now that you’ve… stopped fighting?”  

You glance up, and he’s examining his hand like it’s a gun he hasn’t yet fired and so can't know the power of. He flexes his fingers, pale in the light. “A little,” you admit, thinking of Zayne’s ice and Rafayel’s fire. Resonating was always a trust exercise: it could kill you, could burn, and you had to be willing to let it. “But I can handle it.”  

Used bandages tossed aside, Sylus’s wound looks as dire as when you’d first lifted his shirt to find it. You lean back, lips pursed in bleak assessment; somewhere at the back of your mind, Zayne is insisting this is a job for a real doctor.

“That bad, huh?”

You huff in answer, exhausted. You shoot Sylus a look of defeat before gingerly offering your hand.

His eyes flit between it and you, and you have to give another nod of encouragement before he surrenders. He holds his breath— it’s slow— his forefinger gliding tentatively up your wrist, spelling a silent question, before tracing a circle in your palm. He closes his eyes. His long fingers spread yours and he’s claiming your hand with something between reverence and sin.

His touch trespasses delicately. His Evol doesn’t.

You bite back a gasp as power surges through you, dark and devouring. Your eyes snap shut and your hand tightens around his, not knowing if it’ll ground you or drag you deeper, not caring so long as there’s something in all this everything to hold onto. This could kill you— you would let this kill you, but it won’t. Your nails are leaving crescents in his skin and you know, you know, the world will burn long before you do.

This is different than the others. Better than the others.

Suddenly your hand is empty and the darkness is not a promise but a place where you’re alone. Your eyes flutter open, searching for an anchor. Your head is swimming.

“Are you alright?” Sylus is looking at you, his hand on your shoulder, steadying you, and it takes everything in your power not to grasp it again.

So empty. So alone. “I’m fine,” you manage, but your voice is shaking.

“Tch.”

He’s not a man who wastes his time, and he knows better than to push that particular lie. Rejuvenated, he sits up, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders— reacquainting himself with the strength of his body. He’s imposing again. Looming over you, again. His wounds have all healed, and you watch as the stains of his blood lift and disintegrate, like embers on a breeze.

His hand moves to massage his neck, and he yawns as he lazily tips his head from side to side. “Enjoying the show, sweetie?”

You don’t really hear him. He chuckles, pulling his shirt back down before waving a hand in front of your face; you catch it in a heartbeat. “Stop it.”

“There you are.” 

He twists his wrist free, but then your fingers are around his hand, turning it over so you can get a better look. Your thumb traces thoughtfully over the marks you’d made. “Aren’t you going to heal—”

“No,” he smirks.

He wants you to ask him why, so there’s no way in hell you’re going to. You both have your secrets: some worn on the sleeve and others, clutched a little closer to the chest. What does it feel like with me? You turn the question over in your mind as you tidy up wet gauze and bandages. You had told him the truth, just not all of it.

Like how you don’t lose yourself in him, but feel more yourself than you ever have.

Like how every time it gets easier, but so much harder to stop.

“So,” you mutter, distracting yourself, “are you happy with your metaphor?”

Sylus mulls it over as he studies you, a faint glow in his right eye. There are also things he wants to say, but he’s thinking of you and the artist, locked in a wistful embrace in a cluttered studio, so he keeps them to himself. His gaze tells you what he doesn’t: that he will bear it with a smile, for you, and that he will hold onto it long after it makes his hands bleed.

“It was a trifle trite, perhaps. Though… sweet,” he purrs. “Who knew a kitten could be so eloquent?”

“Fuck you.”

“Mmm.” He grins as he looks at your marks on his skin. “That’s better.”

[fastcardotmp3]

Nancy & Eddie; Nancy & Wayne; 1.4k; post-S1; the melancholy of Christmas; grief/mourning

That night, after Steve goes home and the leftovers are put away and the voices from Mike's walkie talkie murmur through the walls, Nancy creeps past the gleaming tree in the living room and out the front door.

The dark of the sky is gray with the potential for overnight snow and her layers of shirt and sweatshirt and coat and scarf and gloves keep the cold from permeating too quickly, but her cheeks pink over before she reaches the end of the cul-de-sac, let alone her destination.

She shouldn't be out this late. Her mother would hate it if she weren't wine drunk and sleepy enough not to notice, and there's not a good place for Nancy to do what she needs to do, but it's also not an optional thing.

It's not, to her.

There's no grave to visit at the cemetery, because Barb isn't dead to anyone else the way she is to Nancy, but she goes there anyway. Has been. Will continue to.

She's making do, in this and in so many other ways, and so she tries not to feel the utter not enough-ness of the little stack of stones she's built in a lopsided pyramid under a big oak tree with far-stretching branches right at the highest point of the cemetery.

She tries not to think about how she can't add Barb's name to this sham of a grave, can't even call it that when Barb's body is trapped somewhere she can never reach and thus can't bring home either.

Nancy just lowers herself to the cold, hard earth and goes about straightening the pile again, as she always does. She uses them as a barrier this time, a little fenced-in square to hold up the poinsettias she'd stolen from the centerpiece that had sat in the center of their Christmas dinner.

Her hands tremble. She lets them.

Her swallow grows thick. She lets it.

Her tears do not fall. They stay caught in her gut where the rest of her guilt resides, the rest of all her worthless searching, the rest of the hope she never got to mourn for fear of seeming ungrateful for the return of her brother's best friend.

Nancy sits here in front of her makeshift memorial and she does not cry, because there are no tears, and she does not speak, because there are no words, but her heart screams loud enough to shake the town apart.

Her soul wails and laments and begs. She lets it.

She lets it be loud enough that she doesn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her until there's the quiet clear of a throat and question of--

"Hate to bother you, kiddo, but can I bother you a moment?"

Nancy startles, both at the gentle gruffness of the self-contradictory question and the realization that her face is damp with the silent remnants of tears she cannot feel past the numbness of the cold.

"Sor-- Sorry?" she clears her throat as she stumbles quickly to her feet, brushing off her skirt and the thick tights beneath it as she does.

The man behind her isn't someone she knows, which would be a frightening thing if she were in any other mental state than this one, so doused in apathy for her own self that danger doesn't really register.

He wears a warm looking hunting jacket, a thick winter cap with flaps over the ears, and holds a thermos out in front of him.

"S'only, my boy spotted you out in the cold over here," he gestures to Nancy's left where she sees a boy she does recognize, the flit-away of his gaze back to a headstone at his feet all she gets out of Eddie Munson before his arms are crossing over his chest and his shoulders are hiking up around his ears. "Wondered if maybe you couldn't do with some company? Or just somethin' warm to drink?"

He holds the thermos up, this-- this person speaking for Eddie Munson when Nancy has never seen the guy be anything other than outspoken.

The sky is gray in its darkness, a muted sort of black that doesn't allow for stars beyond the heavy clouds.

There's a little pile of stones which are the only remembrance for a girl who deserved so much better than she ever got on the ground behind her.

"You want me to...?"

"We're visitin' his Mama," he says gently, and Nancy understands Eddie's posture better now, that distance away feeling shorter between them. "Anyone out here on Christmas oughtn't be alone, though, don't you think?"

"She didn't run away," Nancy blurts, the sudden need to explain overwhelming any of the kindness being offered to her.

He just nods. Succinct but not dismissive.

"Okay."

"She--" Nancy chokes. She can't tell if her cheeks are still wet. "She didn't run away."

She's not allowed to say it. She's not allowed to talk about it. She can't impart the seriousness of how much Barb didn't leave, didn't go, didn't get far enough away before her time ran out.

But this man, this Munson, he just takes a step closer with the suggestion of an offer with the slightest raise of his arm and Nancy is-- Nancy is hugging him.

She's leaning into the warmth of him, letting him wrap his arm across her shoulders and rub her back with a gloved hand because-- because no one, not a single person, none of them listen when she says it.

Not even the ones who know, not even the boy who loves her, not her own mother who cared more about the fact that Nancy lost her virginity than her best friend.

"I hear ya," he says in a quiet murmur and Nancy believes him. Can hardly breathe past the force of what it feels like to have the words she speaks land softly, with understanding.

"Sorry, sorry," she swipes at her face as she pulls away, and he lets her go without argument, but stays standing there. "Sorry, I know I look hysterical, I just."

A hitching breath. She doesn't hear these footsteps getting closer either, but she feels Eddie's presence in that familiar posture she has gotten to know too well since that first week in November.

She's about to enter a new year, a year with a new number and a new turn of the earth that Barb will never see.

"We're going for pie," Eddie says, even as Nancy wipes her face with the tail of her scarf like a child. "Diner off Walnut's open on Christmas. If you wanna come and be a fuckin' mope with me."

And there's something to it, this undeniable acceptance that Nancy is, in fact, facing the same sort of loss as a boy without a mother, that has her snorting with laughter.

There's something about them, the Munson's with their seeing of her in the most vulnerable state she's allowed herself to express outside the privacy of her shower, that feels like the same sort of relief as the release of pressure that comes along with laughter.

"Do you always pick up strays at the cemetery?" she asks with an attempt at humor, expecting the same dry witted sarcasm in response.

Instead she gets a softening.

Instead she gets this: "I was in band with her," with the lowering of a gaze to a pile of mismatched stones, only to raise back to meet Nancy's with intent, "she made me laugh."

Nancy's chin wobbles. Her lungs too tight in her chest.

She knows then, even before she says it and earns the drape of Eddie's arm around her narrow shoulders, that she'll go with them and eat pie with them and grieve with them.

They'll tell her about the woman they've lost and maybe Nancy will be able to choke out a sentence or two about the girl who raised her only for Nancy to fail her.

They'll eat and she will listen to them because she knows the importance of such a thing and it will hurt.

It will always hurt.

"You said something about pie?" she manages to get out with a hard sniff of her frozen nose.

There is a piece of her lost to a world locked off from the rest of them.

She wonders, tucked into the Munson's pickup truck on a journey in search of pie, whether maybe that's not such an isolated feeling as she thought.

[ahummingbirdwitch]

FOR FANS OF GHOST!

Desperate for new Ghost songs and looking for music that captures a similar feeling and energy? Check out these bands! (And some recommended songs by them)

Vexing Hex — slow-paced occult rock, VERY reminiscent of the Opus and Infesstisumam albums

“Thy Will Be Done”

“Revenant”

Year of the Goat — doom/occult rock with similar Satanic storytelling

“I’ll Die for You”

“Superbia”

Lucifer — classic metal sound reminiscent of Ghost and Black Sabbath, religious themes and imagery

“Cold as a Tombstone”

“Bring Me His Head”

Green Lung — fun psychedelic rock with some doom aspects, frequently references witches/Lucifer, singer even sounds a little bit like Tobias!

“Maxine (Witch Queen)”

“Reaper’s Scythe”

Unto Others — gothic metal/rock band with playing that evokes a strong Ghost feeling even though the singer has a unique voice

“Summer Lightning”

“Over Western Shores”

Mountain Witch — classic-sounding psychedelic rock reminiscent of Blue Öyster Cult

“The Dead Won’t Sleep”

“The Cold Hands of Fate”

Blood Ceremony — psychedelic rock, witchy/Satanic themes and imagery

“Goodbye Gemini”

“Witchwood”

Haunt — fast-paced heavy metal with a slight thrash influence, playing is very similar to Ghost at times

“Face of Danger”

“Windows of Your Heart”

Candlemass — the OG doom metal band from the 80s and one of the biggest inspos for Ghost!! Heavy, sludgy sound and operatic, dramatic vocals

“Bewitched”

“Sinister and Sweet”

Witchcraft — alternative rock/psych rock with a Ghosty playing style

“Democracy”

“By Your Definition”

Khemmis — doomy classic heavy metal with powerful vocals and playing that brings Ghost to mind

“An Empty Throne”

“Isolation”

And of course, don’t hesitate to check out the bands Tobias has been a part of in the past, plus music some of the Nameless Ghouls have made!

Magna Carta Cartel — alternative rock band Tobias used to be a part of and some members of MCC were even Ghouls at one point! Very atmospheric music with a melancholy feel

“Counting Down the Days”

“Blue Hour Gate”

Subvision — pop rock/alt rock band that Tobias was a singer for; fun, slightly punk sound and great if you wanna hear more of Tobias singing

“Room 611”

Jutty Taylor — Swiss Ghoul; makes great vibey rock music

“Dogs”

“Pushing My Love”

Cos Sylvan — Rain Ghoul; killer bass music

“The Damned”

Katatonia — heavy gothic metal band that Dew/Per Eriksson used to play for; hard, atmospheric music that evokes strong emotions

“Behind the Blood”

“My Twin”

Mad Gallica — Cumulus Ghoul; absolutely amazing vocals and synth/piano playing

“Souls on Fire”

I know there’s music by other Ghouls I haven’t touched on, but everything listed above is just the stuff I’ve listened to personally. All of these artists and songs can be found on Spotify!

[mcntsee]

THAWING SHADOWS

Summary: Y/n grapples with their feelings for Kaz. With the support of Nina, she confronts her insecurities and doubts about being worthy of Kaz's affection. Based off of this request.

Warnings: Contains themes of self-doubt, insecurity, and emotional vulnerability. Maybe OOC Kaz, I don’t know, I tried to make his dialogues fitting. Shitty writing and short.

Prompt: 17. "H-how long have you been standing there?" (list of prompts here)

I stared out at the vast expanse of the Slat, my heart heavy with emotions I couldn't quite contain. Nina, my dear friend and confidante, sat beside me, lending a sympathetic ear as I poured out my inner turmoil about Kaz Brekker. The mere thought of him sending a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through my veins.

"I don’t know Nina, I can't help but feel like Kaz could never reciprocate my feelings," I confessed, my voice filled with a hint of melancholy. "He's so enigmatic, so closed off. I'm just me… Just an ordinary person." Nina's eyes shimmered with empathy as she took a moment to choose her words carefully. "Y/n, I understand your doubts, but you're selling yourself short. Kaz may be guarded, but he's not incapable of feeling. There's more to him than people realize, and you've managed to capture his attention in a way that surprises even me."

A flicker of hope ignited within me, but it was quickly extinguished by the weight of my insecurities. “Don’t do that Nina.” I said, voice barley above a whisper, “Don’t give me false hope. How could someone like him ever see something in me?"

Nina's voice carried a gentle reassurance. "Kaz may be drawn to strength, intelligence, and the unexpected but trust me, your genuine heart and unwavering loyalty make you extraordinary in his eyes."

I listened intently, the gears of my mind turning as I absorbed Nina's perspective. Still, doubts lingered. "But what if he finds out about my flaws, about my own darkness? What if he sees the parts of me I'm not proud of?"

Nina's expression softened, and her hand found mine in a comforting gesture. "Y/n, we all have our flaws. It's a part of being human. But Kaz, he sees beyond the surface. He knows firsthand the depths of the human soul, the duality within. He's not one to judge but rather to understand. And in that understanding, he might just find a connection with you."

Her words sparked a glimmer of courage within me, prompting me to take a deep breath. "You really think there's a chance for us, Nina? That he could see something in me worth pursuing?"

Nina's smile widened, brimming with confidence. "Absolutely, y/n. I've seen the way he looks at you, the way he pays attention when you speak. There's a magnetic pull between you two, an unspoken connection. Just be yourself, and let fate unfold."

Curiosity flickered within me as I noticed Nina's eyes drifting behind me, repeatedly shifting focus to something—or someone. The urge to turn around and see what had caught her attention became irresistible. My heart raced in my chest as I pivoted, only to find Kaz standing there, his enigmatic presence enveloping me.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" I stammered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Nina, ever perceptive, departed with a knowing smile, leaving me alone with Kaz. Panic and regret mingled in my voice as I hurriedly apologized for all the doubts and insecurities I had expressed earlier.

Kaz's eyes, as cold and calculating as ever, studied me for a moment before he spoke, his voice laced with a touch of frost. "Words spoken in truth cannot be unsaid, y/n. But perhaps there is more to me than you assume." His words sent a shiver down my spine, both thrilling and unsettling me.

I faltered, sensing an iciness in his demeanor that made my heart ache. It seemed my fears of pushing him away were becoming a reality. I prepared myself for the inevitable rejection, expecting his walls to rise higher.

But Kaz, ever the master of secrets, surprised me with a small flicker of vulnerability. "You think me incapable of feeling, but you underestimate the depths of my emotions. It is true, someone like me should not deserve your affection." His tone remained cool, even distant, leaving me with a bittersweet mix of hope and uncertainty.

A wave of conflicting emotions crashed over me, mingling with the burgeoning happiness in my heart. Despite his cold demeanor, Kaz's words held a certain raw honesty that both pained and intrigued me. In that moment, I realized that beneath his icy exterior, he too harbored a fragile longing.

And so, the chill that had settled in the air began to thaw, ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of the tenderness beneath. As we stood there, facing each other, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us, connected by a fragile thread of understanding and the promise of something beautiful, even amidst the coldness that defined Kaz Brekker.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "Kaz, I understand that you see yourself as someone undeserving of affection, but it's not about who you think you are. It's about who I see when I look at you—the strength, the intelligence, and the capacity for greatness that resides within you. I know you've built walls to protect yourself, but I want to break through them and show you that you deserve happiness, just like anyone else."

For a moment, a flicker of surprise crossed Kaz's eyes, betraying the depths of his emotions that he so skillfully concealed. It was as if my words had penetrated his icy exterior, chipping away at the walls he had built around himself.

"You have a way with words, y/n," he said, his voice softer, the coldness thawing slightly. "But it's not just about what you see. It's about what you're willing to accept—my flaws, my darkness, the shadows that follow me.”

I looked into Kaz's eyes, unwavering in my resolve. "I can't promise that it will always be easy, or that we won't face challenges. But I'm willing to face them together, to support you in every way I can. I see beyond the shadows, Kaz, and I choose to see the person you truly are."

A moment of silence passed between us, filled with unspoken tension and uncharted possibilities. And then, the corners of Kaz's lips lifted ever so slightly, hinting at a rare smile that warmed my heart.

"You are a formidable person, y/n," he admitted, his voice carrying a newfound tenderness.

[gomzdrawfr]

[oc rambles - AU]

note: this is a GhostRaven AU :3 naming it Ethereal AU for now

I was struck with inspiration after finding art from this account, specifically this, this, this and that

so here's a short opening, reviewed by my friend (because the initial draft was so messy KSJHGKAH i swear it's hard trying to write "darkness" with other meaning especially when synonyms have been used up, I gave up in the end and just repeated it so, soRRY ABOUT THAT LMAO)

ps: divider by cafekitsune from here

The realm is a vast, infinite sea of shadow and darkness, where light dares not intrude, and the boundaries between reality and nightmare blur into a seamless haze.

The air is thick and heavy, oppressive and unnerving, and the ground—if it can be called that—has a mind of its own. A shifting, formless mass, it is sometimes solid, other times intangible, with shadowy tendrils that coil and twist around souls who have wandered too far into the darkness.

It feeds on curiosity, which quickly turns to fear and screams—swallowing these poor souls and losing them to the void. 

In this realm, time and space lose all meaning; with no daylight, days, years, and lifetimes dissolve into the inky black.

Yet, a solitary figure appears in the boundless expanse of the abyss.

An immortal wanderer, whose presence is a stark contrast to the surrounding gloom, steps into the realm of the God of Darkness. The heels she wears clank against the shifting ground, echoing into the void like raindrops against marble, a sound so out of place yet entirely fitting in the silence that reigns.

A cascade of pure white adorned with crystals drags along the floor, white gems shaped like moons and stars shimmering faintly on her dress, casting a glow around her. Her skin, as pale as freshly fallen snow, absorbs the darkness and reflects it back gently, with only her black hair blending seamlessly into the void.

It is as if she were a fragment of the cosmos themselves.

The sentient shadows and the realm itself stir at her presence, ever-watchful and wary.

Yet, they recognize something in this immortal that is different from the countless souls they have consumed—an understanding. But they also sense the heavy weight she carries, a deep melancholy and sadness that mingled with her soul, the unshed tears of a thousand sorrows buried deep within her soul, clinging onto it stubbornly. 

Yet her heart, though broken and faint, still beats with unforgotten kindness. 

They welcome her, parting the land and flowing around her ankles like streams of water, uncharacteristically gentle, curious, and almost reverent.

The realm’s chilling cold, which would freeze the marrow of any mortal, is a comfort to Eira. Here in the dark and cold, she feels at peace, as if the land of darkness is more familiar to her than the world she left behind.

Nothing is truly terrifying or difficult in her eyes; everything, even the unknown and the darkness, simply needs to be understood.

And understand it, she does.

She moves slowly, not aimlessly, but with purpose, until her hand is outstretched into the perpetual darkness.

The shadows thicken around her as a cold wind brushes past her right shoulder, something circling her slowly—predatory yet intimate, moving through her fabric and hair, blotches of black staining the whites temporarily before dissolving away, as if to not stain her.

Then comes the sensation of a cloak—heavy, misty—gliding over her left shoulder.

A faintly shaped form reaches out and clasps her outstretched hand. The touch is cold, yet familiar. In the darkness, a faint shape of a skull with a swirl of black smoke becomes visible, a pair of eyes burning with an otherworldly light, ashes and flickers of white making their presence known.

The void around her rumbles.

"Ghost," she greets kindly, her voice gentle and warm, seeping into the darkness.

A deep, resonant reply comes.

"Eira."

extra notes:

Idk what Eira is yet, she's not a Goddess, I do have some idea where she was once human and was bestowed the gift of immortality (against her will? maybe) and thread along these planes of existence, wandering around slowly

this AU is just a concept, it doesn't strictly follow any mythology like Greek or Norse (frankly idk much about them besides Zeus LOL)

BUT, Ghost is a direct reference to Erebus or Erebos, which is a deity that embodies the darkness

if im not mistaken he's paired with Nyx, which is a goddess of night, but again- I changed the story here and Eira's not a goddess

But I did make her have some kind of linkage to stars and moons, because I uh I like the representations LOL

the line that spoke about her sadness can be from a multitude the reason, whether it's from her solitude or the way she has been alive for too long with no purposes, she longed for something she couldn't quite articulate or pinpoint, it's an aimless, lifeless life she's living in. Separated from mortals she once loved, she feels out of place, it's like she's a ghost that travels these places

...I was half debating if i wanna write her heart was broken because she was with Price as a mortal, and then because of the immortality thing she lost Price forever

but thEN, I was thinking...what if this GhostRaven thing becomes a GhostPriceRaven thing....EH??? but yeah i haven't taught that far yet

the premise is that Ghost, who's a god that rarely made his presence known, is curious about Eira, who dares to talk to him and even be in his realm

the story will end in layers of angst KJSDHGLK because see Id like to imagine a deity associated with darkness is a delicate subject, it is a balance between light and darkness, life and death and the known and unknown

so surely, by exploring and letting an immortal linger too long in his realm- or in his heart, would have some effect (rubs hands together menacingly)

but idk the idea of Ghost finding a pretty lil star is what im chasing LOL

Raven who's curious and also interested in this...enigma...this God that so many are fearful of...

idk if i will develop this au beyond just this snippet, because it's just a fun lil idea for me, we'll see how it goes

bonus of me struggling:

[lesbianweems]

Where did you go?

Larissa Weems/Morticia Addams

Summary: In her dreams Larissa visits but when she wakes to the crushing reality that the other half of her soul is no longer there, how does she handle it?

Classification: Angst, previous slow burn relationship

Warnings: Major character death, Gomez is there as an npc

Word count: +3k

@lesbianweems was my beta thanks for letting me put you through mental trauma as the process of writing this went on.

All my grief says; 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! 

The world laughs and holds my hope by the throat saying: 

But this is how it is. - Fortesa Latifi

“Tish. . .” 

The voice rang somewhere from within the depths of her mind that was still heavy with sleep, Mortica was unable to properly connect the dots and yet it was so hard to open her eyes and glance at her surroundings. 

“Tish. . .!” There it was again and all she could do was groan audibly in response as her vision finally became clear and she couldn’t help, but glance around her bedroom at the manor–except Gomez wasn’t laying beside her like he normally was and she wasn’t wrapped up safely within his arms. 

Their room was (and normally she did not mind) shockingly freezing, but for some reason this cold felt different, almost ominous; almost lonely in a manner of speaking and she wasn’t too fond of that.

“Morticia!” she jerked straight up in bed and glanced around the room again in a more frantic way than she had previously done because of that voice. . .it was Larissa! When the woman’s eyes finally adjusted she could clearly make out the woman sitting by her feet looking as beautiful and ethereal as ever.

Maybe even more than when she had last seen her there was something about Larissa that was different this time, perhaps if Morticia looked deep into her eyes she could see just what was wrong. Those eyes, always those eyes that would threaten to swallow her whole wasn’t it? Morticia could easily spend hours being lost within those azure eyes and never get tired of it. 

“Larissa? What are you doing here?” The question may have been silly at first but she couldn’t help it, the blonde never visited her without a phone call or even a letter stating she would be stopping by the manor and in the middle of the night no less? It was strange and for some reason she felt this odd feeling of melancholy take over her heart, and as she slowly rose to her knees Larissa stood quickly just out of her reach. . .forever out of my reach.

A soft almost sad smile pulled at those gorgeous red painted lips as the woman clasped her hands in front of herself, something she often did when she was anxious and didn’t really know what to do with herself. “I just wanted to come visit you–is there something wrong with that?” her voice sounded off. . .almost distant and the fact that she wouldn’t let Morticia touch her only heightened the feeling that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Of course not! I would never turn down seeing you, but in the middle of the night? I cannot come by the school in the morning–?” Morticia was cut off quickly when she looked up again and saw something within the blonde that made her blood run completely cold. There was a ball of emotion welling up within her throat that made it increasingly difficult to swallow and there was a burning behind her eyes as tears threatened to gather against her lash line. 

“Larissa please!” Morticia’s pleading voice was heard from across their dorm as she stood and without another word curled her fingers around the blonde’s wrist preventing her from going any further. It had been in a moment of weakness that Morticia had come clean about Garrett Gates and how he was making her feel–how uncomfortable and scared she was. Larissa had froze on the spot, fingers curled into a white knuckled grip, nails digging into her palm almost hard enough to draw blood. 

Jerking her hand away from Morticia’s grasp as she turned to face her, there was nothing but hot red fury and something else within her eyes–it wasn’t supposed to be like this. “He is stalking you! When we go into town he is somehow always there, I’ve seen it and so has Gomez! This isn’t a game, Morticia, he could seriously injure you!” Fully intending to go to the cops herself but she somehow knew they wouldn’t believe anyone from Nevermore, Garrett’s father was a prominent figure within Jericho and he abhorred Outcasts of any one type. . .the police were in his back pocket more or less. 

“Please don’t go there. I don't want you involved in it as well, you could get hurt.” Morticia’s voice was weak as her arms wrapped around Larissa’s waist and she was burying her face within the blonde’s chest. This was so incredibly rare for her sweet dove and for a split second Larissa had almost forgotten why she was so upset because she had her entire world in her arms right now–and she would do anything to keep that world safe. 

Standing slowly and wrapping the sheer robe tighter around herself, Morticia’s subtle shift nearly made Larissa scoff imperceptibly–because what would something like that do against the cold in her room? Yet, at the same time the black robe that could barely be called a piece of clothing was so completely Morticia that it made her heart ache from the familiarity of it all. Why had she remained silent all this time? Larissa even when they were starting to fall apart always had something to say, but right now was completely silent and stood if made out of porcelain. 

It was as if she would shatter into a million pieces should Morticia reach out to barely place a finger on her, why did it feel so wrong all of the sudden? Somewhere in the furthest part of her brain the pieces were slowly connecting, but she refused to acknowledge them–because Larissa would never succumb to death so easily. She was always the type of woman that would fight for her place in the world even if she had been moving on her very last breath. 

Shaking her head quickly as if doing that would remove all thoughts and ideals of losing Larissa to death, making her way across the room she carefully and ever so gently curled her fingers around the blonde’s wrist–though it didn’t last. Morticia jerked her hand away quickly as if burned, her own eyes scanning over her shaking fingers as she once again looked to where Larissa stood. Why was she so cold? Her skin was always so warm; everything about Larissa Weems was warmth, some days it was as if the sun itself had taken up residence within her soul and radiated from her entire being.

“Larissa. . .what are you–?!” Before Morticia could say another word she was pinned against the wall one of the blonde’s hands rested beside her head while the other slid around her waist. “Let me have this, Tish. . .please?”

Her tone was different from how Morticia was used to, it was more desperate and needy in a way that broke Morticia’s heart into a million pieces; shattering it completely and all she could think was that this was going to cause irreparable damage. The little voice somewhere in the back of her mind telling her that there was finality in the moment they were sharing, and Morticia wasted no time in throwing her arms around Larissa’s waist her nails digging into the fabric of her dress as if that would keep her here. . .as long as she didn’t let go that would keep her here. 

When she opened her eyes again she was on her back in bed and Larissa was hovering over her and all she could do was cup her cheeks, thumbs stroking over the cool flesh slowly moving across her bottom lip.

“Please stay. . .” Morticia whispered under her breath as she leaned up and allowed for their lips to connect in a soft kiss, her bottom lip trembling slightly as tears slid down her cheeks. 

“You’re joking! Surely you have to be!” The urgency within Morticia’s voice as she sat upon Larissa’s bed, dark eyes following the shapeshifter as she paced the room. Larissa told her that once they graduated after she had been able to complete her minor academics at the local community college–after she picked a major their current headmistress wanted her to intern under and eventually take over. 

From the very moment the blonde had mentioned that and when their hands touched Morticia was plagued with awful visions of a future she had hoped would never come to fruition; Larissa’s body convulsing and jerking–her fearful gaze as someone stood over her holding a syringe full of some type of strange liquid. “You can’t do that! If you do you’ll–Larissa, if you go down this path you will die!” 

Normally her visions were doves and positive but this wasn’t one of those moments and while she did see Larissa alive, healthy, and so very happy with her position as headmistress of Nevermore. Morticia could also see the darkness hiding behind the oh so bright light that seemed to radiate from the blonde, something bad was going to happen if she continued down this path and just as Larissa had attempted to protect her, she wanted to return the favor so badly.

Yes her visions were unreliable and dangerous they could never be counted on properly but she couldn’t help this one, it felt so completely real and left her gasping for air when she woke up. Her head placed in Larissa’s lap as soft words of encouragement were whispered into her ear for her to return safely.

“Why do you even care, Morticia? You are going to marry Gomez and start this happy life that he has planned for you two, you cannot have your cake and eat it too! You made your choice and I am making mine here and now. I have lived in your shadow for far too long but I am going to make a name for myself.” Larissa’s tone was firm and full of a strength that Morticia had not seen in such a long time, but there was also heartbreak within her when she mentioned the idea of her marrying Gomez. 

“You are so stubborn! Why do you have to be like this?!” Her voice cut through the silence between them after what felt like an eternity. Once again Larissa’s defenses were so clearly displayed before Morticia. Perhaps she was a little spoiled because all she had to do was mutter what she wanted and Gomez would jump at the idea of making her happy, but Larissa wasn’t and would never be like that. Is this really what it felt like to be in love with two completely different people? Why did she hurt like this? Why was she so angry that Larissa wouldn’t just conform and listen to her? 

Larissa took a soft breath and gazed at her roommate–her. . .no Morticia was just her roommate and that was all she would ever be. “Go to Hell, Morticia.”

The words were spoken with so much spite and hurt so much that it felt like a million tiny knives were slicing her heart to ribbons. Each piece slid down her ribcage and landed at her feet in a mess of emotions and lost moments as the door slammed shut behind Larissa. Those would be the last words they spoke to each other before graduation would happen the following week and Larissa would do everything in her power to avoid Morticia at every single turn. 

When Morticia opened her eyes again she met those deep azure beauties that made her feel lightheaded and her breath caught within her lungs; a breath she didn’t realize she was holding until Larissa’s cold hand cupped her cheek and brushed the tears away from her eye. Red painted lips pressing a kiss to where the tear had stained her cheek.

“Don’t leave me, Larissa.” It was spoken so weakly in such a non-Morticia way that whatever resolve the blonde had was quickly crumbling before them. 

“You cannot hide from the truth of things, Tish–you know already don’t you? I have never been able to astral project into your dreams like this, you have to know what this means.” Her voice was soft and it only served to break Morticia even more, her fingers tightening within Larissa’s dress almost threatening to rip the fabric. 

Just as their lips were going to meet once again she was jerking straight up in bed covered in a cold sweat and tear stains upon her cheeks, one of her hands moving to rest over her heart in a pathetic attempt to calm the fact that it felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. A weakened sob escaped her lips as she glanced over and saw Gomez sleeping comfortably next to her, his arm draped over her midsection for the very first time since they had first been unable to keep their hands off each other; it felt wrong to have him touch her. 

Morticia felt her stomach turn slightly as she moved his arm away from her carefully and got out of bed to get ready for the day, it was just a horrible nightmare right? That is all it was if she somehow found a way to the school and went straight to Larissa’s office, she would find her waiting there for her not a hair out of place, makeup done perfectly, and those ocean blue eyes watching her with utmost love and respect. Even after everything they had been through Larissa still held so much love and adoration for her; the kind of love that Morticia did not and would never deserve after everything she had put the blonde through. 

“Is this Morticia Addams?” The voice came through on the other end of the line and all she could do was attempt to swallow around that emotion that had welled up within her throat once again, a tear slipped down her cheek as Gomez stood beside her a reassuring hand placed upon her lower back. So badly she wanted to shake it off and storm away from him in the only dramatic fashion that both he and Larissa knew. “We need you to identify. . .you were listed as an emergency contact and next of kin.” 

Radio static was the closest thing she could compare their voice to on the other end of her phone, normally she detested and refused to use this technology but it was how Larissa sometimes communicated with her regarding Wednesday and she could so easily hear the blonde’s voice about joining the present age of technology–even when she herself didn’t properly use her cell phone for anything other than business related matters.

The device slipped out of her hand and clattered to the floor, it was so loud in this kind of silence the only thing that could be heard was Morticia’s rapid breathing and somewhere in the distance Gomez was speaking to her, but she couldn’t make out a single word of what he was attempting to say to her. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. . .

Morticia hated protocol more than anything in the world and even though she knew that is all it was when she received the call the idea of flat out refusing to go because as long as she didn’t have to face it then it wasn’t real, but Larissa didn’t deserve any of this to be left waiting for someone to do what needed to be done. No, Larissa Weems deserved the entire universe and everything that came along with it but had only been given crumbs and the scraps of Morticia’s love, she had given everything ( including her life ) for Nevermore and still it didn’t seem like that was enough in the eyes of the town. 

It was unbearably sunny almost to the point it made her skin feel a little irritated and itchy when she arrived in Jericho later that afternoon, choosing to make Gomez wait for her at the Weathervane because this was something she wanted to do alone; no it was something she had to do alone. Her husband had always been there standing between the two women in a way that was obstructive and nearly impossible for them to discuss anything about their past without him knowing. 

Once she was inside the morgue normally a place like this wouldn’t make her nerves be on edge; the cold of the room sinking deep within her bones as she was led over to a place she absolutely did not want to be. A deep breath was taken and just as quickly left her lungs when she looked down and saw the blonde, having to reach out and grip the cold slab that Larissa was placed on in order to keep herself from crumbling. The medical examiner knew who she was, who in Jericho did not know Larissa Weems and everything she had done for Nevermore? Once again she wanted to throw such a fit that would even make the woman before her grin and roll her eyes fondly at seeing her in such a state “I-It’s her. . .” Morticia murmured almost inaudibly as she gazed down at the woman who in all reality looked like she was just sleeping, but this was not the last image of Larissa she wanted burned into her mind. 

It shouldn’t be like this!  

“Oh. . what have they done to you, mon coeur?” Her voice was quiet as she felt the tears once again gathering in her eyes. “You do not deserve this, I’m so sorry.” Morticia whispered as she leaned down and pressed a fleeting kiss to Larissa’s forehead, she was so cold–where had her sun gone? 

Of course the one day they didn’t bring their umbrellas into town the sky would open up and pour rain down like that had never seen, but Larissa didn’t seem to be too bothered by it as she and Morticia ran for cover the blonde holding her hand gently as they stopped right by the fountain near the center of town. “It’s only a little water, Tish I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Her smile was nothing short of sunshine itself and Morticia couldn’t help how she cupped her cheeks within her hands and leaned in to kiss her. 

For a split second Larissa’s brain must’ve short circuited because her hands went limp at her sides and all she could do was stand there, but she wasted no time in returning the kiss quietly thankful that not many residents were outside given the weather and most of their fellow students had returned to the school before it started raining. “Can I keep you?” The words were spoken so innocently against Morticia’s lips that her heart ached in wonderful ways, and thudded rapidly against her ribcage. 

Sitting by the now ruined fountain courtesy of her daughter Morticia ran her fingers over the top of the water, careful not to disturb the natural surroundings of the area as she looked up at the sky, the clouds parting and for once the sun against her skin didn’t burn or itch. The warmth seeped into her bones as Gomez came up behind her and placed a hand upon her shoulder gently “Cara mia, we need to go to the school things need to be handled.” his hand moved to cup her cheek and Morticia couldn’t help but lean into the touch, her eyes slipping closed as she stood and made her way to their vehicle. 

Mon coeur, I remain yours until I breathe my last.

All my grief says; 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! 

The world laughs and holds my hope by the throat saying: 

But this is how it is.

[zabimarushoney67]

Heyy! I love your work and I wanted to request izuru kira from bleach hurt/comfort 💦❌️ cause it's a drought with the emo boy kira community.

Hey doll! :) I’m sorry this took so long I hope you’re still here but yes absolutely you got it! We love emo baby boy Kira around these parts 💖 I turned on my emo playlist just to set the mood for this 😭 Kira is a Mayday Parade fan all the way you can’t change my mind.

🌸Melancholy Boy🌸

NSFW!💦MDI!⚠️ANGST!❌

-Summary: After the betrayal of Aizen, with Gin and Tosen in tow life has been very stressful for the rest of us in the Gotei 13. Izuru, your boyfriend of 3 years has recently taken charge of his division. With so much more responsibility falling on his shoulders his attention towards you, and your relationship has been thrown to the side, treated like an option. At first you understood but it’s been 1 month since the attack and he can barely look in your direction, let alone hold an open conversation with you. It’s left you feeling empty and alone, not knowing how to talk to him about it, is making it difficult for a resolution to come about. Will your relationship come back together or fall to the wayside? How can it be fixed?

Word count: A LOT sorry not sorry this request got the better of me emo boys are my weakness 😭

-Warnings: Mentions of mental health/symptoms of MH (depression, anxiety), deep emotions, acknowledgment, healthy relationships, strong language, and dirty writing. Penetration!vaginal s3x. Praise k!nk, Overstimulation. Master!Sir!Daddy! k!nk. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ NSFW.

-Authors notes: woo! this was a doozy, I didn’t mean for this to be so long but I’m happy it turned out the way it did, I purposely didn’t write much about body shape (weight, height, eye/skin color etc. leaving just (c) for color for those things just for readers so y’all could insert your own body.) we’re here for smut after all 🤷🏽‍♀️ let me know if you liked this or not, reposts and likes go a long way 💖 I hope you enjoyed it otherwise! Thank you for the requests in advance :)

🌸The clouded morning sun, peaks through the sheer white curtains of your bedroom window, illuminating the dark room a pale grey. Outside, it rains softly, the drops gently pattering on the rooftop and falling down the glass window pane. It's been heavy and gloomy around the Seireitei the last few weeks following the attack of Aizen, and his group of traitors. No one saw it coming, we were taken by complete surprise and since then it seems that the clouds have yet to disperse. Y/N yawns and stretches along her side of the bed and with her left hand, feeling around the opposite side of the soft top sheet, only to find a cold empty spot next to her. “What time is it?..” she says quietly to herself as she rolls over to the alarm clock on Izuru's side, 10:39 AM the digital clock reads. “He must’ve left pretty early this morning.” she mentions sadly.

After waking and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, y/n wandered into her usual morning routine of brushing her hair, and teeth, as she decided to put on more clothing than just one of Izurus T-shirts and her black flower lace panties, choosing to just throw on her grey, comfy cotton shorts under the shirt, and some cute fuzzy pink socks as she headed downstairs into the kitchen to find something to munch on. “What to do with so much time off, when normally you're so busy?..” she questions as she ruffles through the cupboards for a granola bar and a bowl of cereal. With everything that’s happened in The Soul Society, it felt almost selfish that she requested time off for her well-being. The familiar sound of her phone vibrating on the kitchen counter catching her attention, the phone screen lighting up to a sweet picture of you and Izuru. A simpler time, it seems now. Izuru’s arm hooked around your neck, both of you smiling big underneath one of your favorite sakura trees in all of the Seireitei. It’s been your background for months and it still manages to make you smile, every time your phone lights up.

Two unread messages from: Babe❤️ read the brightly lit screen. ‘Hm Izuru.. usually he’s too busy to message me during his shifts. I hope everything is ok.’ y/n ponders as she swipes open her phone to read the two messages.

11:09 AM

🌸 “When you wake up, could you throw my laundry in the dryer for me?”

11:11 AM

🌸 “I'll be home early tonight, can you have the house clean, and dinner ready.”

‘Who does he think he's talking to??… first of all I’m on vacation? Or so I thought. Secondly, not even a good morning? A “hey how are you? Sorry, I left you home alone all last night and all morning.”... Not even a please or a thank you?..’ y/n scoffs taking a deep breath already feeling the frustration mounting, because this has been a usual thing for Kira lately. ‘He asks me to do chores around the house and asks me to run errands for him all the time, yet never does it for me, let alone thanks me for the things that I do..’ her brain couldn’t stop thinking now. It hasn’t exactly been stress and tension free between you and Izuru the last few weeks, with his added stress of taking on the duties of both Lieutenant and Captain of Squad 3 and trying to keep his squad under control, you understood why he would be grumpier than usual, tense, and tired and you've been trying to put in extra effort to keep your relationship above water. But it seems as time goes on, Izuru is falling behind you. He hasn't been the same, since Gin left. He treats you differently now, It's becoming tiring trying to figure him out. ‘What am I going to do..’ y/n sighs deeply, the weight on her shoulders returning heavier than before. She bothers not to text him back and places her phone face down on the counter. With her face in her hands, the morning has now shifted down a dark road y/n had tried desperately to stay out of, ‘I’m exhausted too Izuru.. It would be nice if you could also see that I'm struggling... Hurting. Just as much as you are.’ She shakes her head, and runs her delicate fingers through her soft (c) hair.

The Soul Society, your relationship, your home everything seems to be so out of balance now. You can’t help but feel anger and resentment towards those back stabbing cowards. Life was good before all of this easy, and routinely. Your relationship with Izuru was in such a good place, you had so many plans, you were happy. Because of this betrayal everything is changing, The Seireitei has become a much more serious place now, with everyone on edge.

With a full belly, fresh coffee brewed and made exactly how Y/N likes it, it was best for her to take the rest of the morning to relax and find something to entertain herself. ‘Chores’ needed to wait. It seems that’s all she does now, even when she’s on duty patrolling with her own squad someone is always sending y/n to do the most tedious stuff, or even when she’s on a mission in the world of the living, so many things to do… and never enough time to do it all it seems. Taking her warm coffee mug, and her phone into the cozy living space you and Izuru set up together. She curls up on the couch with her favorite blanket and a few couch pillows and sipped her morning coffee while she flipped through shows and streaming services, before finally settling on lighting some incense, turning on and listening to her favorite playlist, and reading a book instead. With the rain still falling gently outside the soft droplets making a ‘tap, tap tap, tap’ on the living room windows, hours had gone by, y/n fully losing and immersing herself in her dark, fictional world through the crisp pages, while the haunting lyrics of Don’t You Dare Forget the Sun danced around the fragrant, dimly lit room.

4:45 PM

Y/Ns phone buzzes once more. Another message from Izuru. “What does he want now?..” she remarks quietly and quickly snaps out of her book and back into reality as she sees her phone light up with one unopened message from: Babe❤️ on the screen.

🌸 “ Hey, I’m gonna be home at 5 tonight. I hope you’ve had a good day today.”

Taken by complete surprise that Izuru finally, and actually acknowledged her this time around, y/n unlocks her phone and replies:

🌸 “okay, see you then.”

🌸 “I Love you.”

Y/N places her phone back down on the couch, not responding further and gets up to lightly pick up and organize the house, and throws Izuru’s clothes into the dryer for him. Opting out of making dinner, and calling for take out instead. She climbs back into her spot stretched out on the couch and throws on a show to kill off the last minutes of Izuru’s disappearance. You’ve missed him all day, you admit to yourself. Wishing and hoping that he’s in a good enough mood to spend some time together tonight. Sighing and hugging a pillow you sink into your couch and drown out anymore of those pestering thoughts with a ridiculous anime on the living room TV.

5:15 PM

The front doorknob wiggles and clanks with the sound of Izuru’s house keys working the lock to get into the house. Y/N sits up from her nest on the couch and looks to the door as Izuru comes in, back facing you, sighing softly as he sets his zanpakto next to yours, and his other gear next to the front door. He sheds his shihakusho right there leaving him shirtless, his hakama loosely held in place by his belt. “Hey..” you say softly “how was your day..?” Izuru comes around the couch and plops down heavily on the cushion next to you, he smelled of fresh rain, fire smoke, sweat, and a hint of his usual warm vanilla musk cologne, such a interesting and heady combination that fills your nostrils, you can’t help but breathe in deeply a few times savoring his scent.

While rubbing the back of his neck and stretching out his legs, his feet in front of him, “It was alright…” he responded dryly, not saying much else about it, he relaxes into the couch with his head laying on the back cushion, eyes closed. “Is dinner ready? I’m starving.” He remarks to you. “I ordered take out, cooking just sounded like to much work tonight.. it should be here soon.” Izuru looks at you with hooded and tired blue eyes, the bags underneath them visible even in the dim living room light. Izuru places his warm rough hand on your thigh and gives it a loving squeeze, you can feel how thick his callouses have become as his hand laid upon your soft skin, thumb stroking comforting lines back and forth, Izuru lays his head back onto the couch cushion and breathes quietly and steadily. The weather outside, was growing more intense as the night progressed. Dark clouds swirled over the house, as a storm was approaching for the night.

The silence was deafening, all that you could hear was the soft noise from the TV, Izuru’s breathing, and your loud thumping heartbeat in your ears. It has never been this hard for you and Izuru to relate to each other, the tension y/n felt in the room was suffocating and almost unbearable, after all he was your best friend, and it was so hard to see him so beaten down, quiet, and distant. Your eyes gazed, studying Izuru’s form. He’s gotten a lot stronger, leaner, his abs even in a relaxed state we’re chiseled and defined, rising slowly with each inhale and exhale. His collarbones were peaking out shyly under his neck, his forearms have grown in size, the veins bulging out at his wrist and up to his elbow. The harsh training was paying off, despite him coming home exhausted and drained every night… ‘mmmph… wow, he looks so fucking yummy. Maybe he’ll want to…’ you think impulsively, reactively almost, sending shockwaves down your spine into the depths of your belly, giving you goosebumps down your neck. It has been awhile since you’ve got to feel.. all of Izuru. Biting your lower lip as your eyes wandered lower to his soft light blonde happy trail from his belly button to his belt, you gently place your hand over his and give it a gentle squeeze, shooing away those shivers, and incredible memories of sex with Izuru away from your brain.

5:40 PM

There was a ring of the doorbell and a gentle knock at the front door, signifying that take out had finally arrived. “I’ll get it..” Izuru says as he releases your hand and gets up from his seat, gently patting your head as he heads to the front door. He pays for the food and tips the delivery driver and takes the food to the coffee table before heading to the kitchen for plates, silverware, and two cold beers for you and him.

You guys ate in silence together, focusing on eating rather than socializing and watching TV. Once finished Izuru takes your plates, and empty beer bottles to the kitchen. Y/N cleans up whatever leftovers there were, and brings them to the fridge to put them away. In the kitchen, you see Izuru washing the 3 day dish pile up in the sink, feeling kind of bad that you had all day to do them but didn’t. Usually you guys tackled all the chores together, and the house was always spotless. Over the last few weeks, the mess slowly started to accumulate as your schedules got busier and you and Izuru spent less and less time at home. Y/N slinks up behind Izuru and wraps her arms around his waist and kisses his skin softly over and over, laying her warm cheek on his strong back. “Thank you for doing the dishes.” Y/N says appreciatively, “It’s my home too, I’m almost finished here.” He says placing the last few dishes in the dish rack to dry “I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Izuru says coldly as he drys his hands and walks out of the kitchen, not saying anything else leaving y/n standing there alone under the iridescent light. ‘..Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you’ y/ns mind sinks in the mud, as she walks to the couch heart feeling heavier than ever, after the exchange.

6:49PM

Standing in front of the steam covered mirror, towel wrapped neatly around his hips, Izuru leans over the sink, wet hair dripping on the counter and into the sink as he takes a deep breath of the humid air and breathes out slowly. ‘I have yet another busy and early day tomorrow..‘ Izuru’s mind has been so clogged, with all the events over the last few weeks he can barely think straight most of the time. Burned out and detached was all he could really feel as he tried searching his mind for a semblance of calm. Izuru sighs deeply and closes his eyes as memories of Gin, and that day replay in his mind like it happened yesterday, making his head ache. He wipes away the steam from the mirror and finishes his nightly ritual with haste. Leaving the upstairs bathroom, steam rolling out behind him as he walks to your shared bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind him to dress. He hears a faint sniffling coming from the living room that he soon drowns out, believing it’s just the show on the TV playing. He dries off and throws on black boxer briefs and green plaid pajama pants and walks downstairs to the living room, squeezing out the water in his hair with his towel on the way.

6:55 PM

Upon arrival, he notices the TV is off and y/n is sitting on the couch wiping her eyes and nose with his shirt, shuddering breaths as she tries to self soothe. “Hey, whats the matter?” Izuru says worriedly and approaches y/n from behind placing his towel over the back of the couch and crouching down in front of her. “… nothing.” Y/N says, biting her tongue and choosing to be silent in order not to put any more problems on Izuru’s shoulders. “Well that’s a lie. Your eyes are red and puffy and you’re sniffling. I’m not stupid you know?…” “C’mon, you can tell me.” Izuru coos as he cups y/n face gently and strokes her cheeks with his thumbs. Y/N whimpers softly as tears well up in her big (c) eyes and spill over, rolling down her cheeks once more, the dam in her heart breaking down completely as she sobbed hard into Izuru’s hands. “I m-miss y-yo-you. S-s-so much..” she choked out in between sobs and sniffles. “You’re always gone now and I’m always alone, you didn’t come home till late last night and you were gone this morning and I’m always doin stuff with never enough time, a-a-and, and, and..” she rambled on, not evening knowing what to say through all the pain she felt in her throat and chest. “Woah.. hey, y/n.. it’s alright don’t cry.” Izuru said in attempts to calm you down, wiping your tears away and brushing your hair out of your eyes and behind your ear. “Use your words, it’s okay y/n.” He reassures you in a gentle tone.

Taking a deep but broken breath, y/n closes her eyes and takes his hands off her face. “.. things just have not been the same babe, I feel like I’m the only one who wants this relationship anymore… I do everything I can and… I still feel less than, like I don’t matter.” Y/N says quietly, avoiding his gaze. Thunder outside booms, as the rain started to fall heavy this time. The wind blew hard against the house making it creak in rebellion. “Today.. or everyday really, feels like so much. I just don’t know how to keep going anymore.. I want you home again. I just want things to go back to normal.” Y/N says sadly, looking down. Izuru looking very concerned as he takes a seat close to you and wraps his arms around you and holds you close to his chest. “Oh babe…” “I’m sorry..” Izuru responds, sounding defeated “I’m sorry y/n, really I am. I’ve been so lost in myself and my duties I didn’t even see… or begin to realize how badly you were suffering through all this.” He acknowledges and squeezes you hard, making you cry some more into his chest. Izuru lays his head on top of yours and rubs your arms, as he felt you cry into him. Breathing in his clean manly scent slowly but surely calmed you down, the sobs turning into sniffles and eventually silence as you relaxed deeply into Izuru’s chest, hearing his heart beat steadily.

After sitting like this awhile, the rain continuing to fall outside. Y/N breaks free from his arms, “We’re gonna be okay? Right?” Y/N whispers, looking directly into Izuru’s deep blue eyes “We’re gonna be okay baby, don’t worry about a thing. I love you so much, more then you realize, I’m sorry I haven’t been expressing that to you like you deserve lately.” “I’ll do better, I promise you.” Izuru leans in and kisses you hard, lips locking in place as he places his hand on your neck deepening the kiss, a soft moan escapes your mouth that is easily dissolved by Izuru and the sudden passion that was taking over the energy between the two of you. Suddenly the room started to feel hot, your body temperature rising as those earlier thoughts of Izuru’s strong hands caressing your body, and his body weight pushing his hard cock into your tight slippery hole flood back into your mind, instinctively your hands cup his face as you let your tongue slip into Izuru’s mouth, accepting you willingly he groans as your tongues play together, twisting around each other, saliva mixing as wet kissing noises started to fill the quiet living room.

Izuru’s hands glide down from your neck to your waist as he pulls you on to his lap so you’re straddling his thighs, pushing you into his groin as you feel his cock stir awake underneath your butt. Y/N leans onto his chest, her breast perching on his muscled chest and kisses Izuru deeply, biting at his lower lip and tugging it gently before releasing it and looking at Izuru’s red blushed face “I love you Izuru, so much.” She says before grabbing his face and pulling him back into a sloppy make out session. Grinding her hips against Izuru’s thighs, encouraging his dick to get harder in his boxers to make a tent big enough to grind her throbbing wet slit against. Y/N moans into Izuru’s mouth as she feels his cock twitch hard against her core. “I’ve missed you.. I miss this..” y/n says breathlessly “Miss what?” Izuru says before grabbing y/n wrists with his hands and pushes her into the couch cushions laying over top of her, keeping her wrists in place, pinning her hips against his uncomfortably hard cock. Y/N whimpers underneath him, biting her lip and looking up at Izuru’s smoldering expression, “I can’t hear you kitten.” Izuru says in a serious tone, all aspects of playfulness disappearing. “I.. I miss sirs big cock inside..” she says shyly, “inside where?” Izuru demands, grinding his hips against your aching core grunting as the fabric between you and him gives zero to no relief to his throbbing cock but enough friction that he keeps grinding his hips, heavy precum dripping from his head making his boxers a mess. He’s missed you just as much as you him, he’s come to realize as pleasure rips through his body thinking about sinking his fingers inside your dripping wet core. “Inside.. my greedy pussy sir.” Y/N says innocently as she tries to hide her face in her arm, embarrassed and blushed pink.

Izuru grabs your chin with his free hand and turns your face towards his, forcing you to look up at him. He places his thumb over your soft lips pushing gently wanting you to take it in your mouth. Y/N parts her lips and takes his thumb in her warm wet mouth and sucks softly, causing Izuru to groan his knees almost buckling at the sight “you’re so goddamn sexy, baby.” he says biting his lip as he looks down at how cute you look going into your sub space for him so quickly. ‘God look at you.. your eyes are still red and puffy… but they’re sparkling so preciously at me.. her soft pink lips swollen from our intense kisses. Fuck she’s so gorgeous, how can I be so stupid?… this woman is gonna be the death of me, and I’m okay with that.’ Izuru notes in his brain, as he releases your wrists, pulls his thumb out of your mouth and moves his hands to the hem of your (his) shirt, undressing you quickly exposing your breasts and nipples to the cold living room air. Your nipples perk up immediately as the cold air wraps around your upper body, Izuru then fumbles around with the cute little bow you tied in your shorts strings to remove your shorts, his eyes eating you up and drinking you in like you were his salvation, his rapture. His eyes gazed down your body, mesmerized completely until he saw your panties. “Isn’t this the pair I got for you on our first anniversary?” He questioned raising his eyebrow at you as he lightly traced the little flowers with his fingers and over your dripping cunt. Putting pressure over your clit through the fabric, as he waited for you to answer. Y/N yelps cutely as his expert fingers gently toy with her pussy through the fabric, her hands resting on her tummy “yes sir… they’re my favorite pair.” She replies and smiles up at Izuru. “You’ve always looked so cute in them.” He mentions sweetly, and he beams back at you. “I’m trying to get inside them though..” he says darkly, smile vanishing as he pulls them down the length of your thighs, over your calves with no remorse.

Completely naked now, and feeling a little exposed y/n giggles as she watches Izuru fumble out of his own clothing, piling them on the floor with everything else. His hard cock finally free and out in the open, ‘when was the last time I’ve seen him completely naked?..hmm he really is a god amongst men. I’m so fucking lucky.’ y/n thinks distractedly, eating Izuru alive with her eyes. Looking him up and down in all his glory, his strong body now fully exposed to her, blushing deeply as her eyes can’t stop glancing at his perfect cock. Slightly curved upwards, deep pink head with pre coating his slit, naturally ribbed with veins running down his shaft and up his V line. ‘Trimmed too?.. fuck. So you thought about it too then huh?’ Y/n noted as she looked up his body, eyes resting on his perfect ass and muscular back.

Finished undressing, Izuru climbs back onto the cramped couch with you, ringing his arms around your thighs pulling you harshly down so his face was level with your pussy. The sudden movement makes y/n gasp in surprise, rocking her back into the present moment from her dreamy headspace. “I wanna show you just how much I love you tonight.. I’ve missed you so much baby.” He coos softly up at you. The scene you were presented with… Izuru’s beautiful face looking up at you from between your soft plush thighs was tantalizing enough, you bite your lip and thread your hands and fingers through his hair pushing it out and away from his face, so he could get to work. Without breaking eye contact, Izuru unwraps one arm and uses his fingers to spread your wet folds apart, the other arm flexing and jerking your leg open to keep it in place. He breathes you in deeply and kisses both your inner thighs repeatedly, then each lip, before he takes your whole slit into his mouth sucking and licking every last bit of your pussy. His tongue digging into your hole as he begins to eat you out. Izuru sucks and gently tugs on your clit with his lips, your juices dripping down his mouth and onto the couch, ‘god she tastes so heavenly…’ Izuru moans appreciatively at your flavor. Sweet, with a little tanginess bringing him forward into complete bliss, Izuru closes his eyes and savors every last drop of you, sucking and licking you up like a melting popsicle. Y/N moans out loud and pushes Izuru’s face deeper into her core grinding her hips against his face and fervent mouth. “Unnnghh.. that’s so fucking good daddy don’t st-st-stop.” Y/N says unashamedly as she tugs at his soft blonde hair hard causing Izuru to groan against her swollen lips, the vibrations being sent directly to her belly and hips as she felt that familiar warm sensation creeping up her legs. “You’re gonna make me fucking c-cum, fuck!” Y/N moans wildly and throws her head back as her orgasm grows closer to snapping at any moment, with the continued movements of Izuru’s swirling wet tongue.

Taking the fingers he was using to spread your labia, he slides the two fingers inside your dripping pussy, while he moves them at a steady pace and puts the exact right amount of pressure on your spongey gspot, with that he could feel the exact moment your orgasm ripped through your whole body. “Oh my GOD!! IZURUUUU YES!” Y/N screams and cums so hard she squirts all over Izuru’s mouth and chest, desperately trying to escape his arms to no avail. The couch now completely soaked in y/n’s juices, with his fingers still inside he continues to play with your spot pushing up and towards him faster and faster while he speeds up the movement of his tongue, flicking over your sensitive and throbbing clit. Overstimulating y/n was one of Izuru’s favorite pastimes, the way she squirms and begs for him to stop his assault on her clit, turns him on so much he unknowingly started to grind his cock into the couch for even just a little relief. Izuru looks up at you with your pussy still in his mouth and finger fucks you until your 2nd orgasm starts to slowly rewind in your belly. Y/N releases Izuru’s hair after cumming and lays back panting hard, legs shaking and body still involuntarily jerking because of Izuru still toying and playing with your slit. “Baby pleaseeee..” y/n begs longingly “I need you inside me now, sir.” “Getting demanding now are we babe?” Izuru quirks playfully, releasing you from his hold because he too was getting eager now, he admitted to himself.

After finishing his (2nd) meal, Izuru sits up on his knees and wipes his mouth with the back his hand. His cock is red and swollen now from the lack of stimulation. Trying to sit up to return the favor y/n is suddenly pushed back into position against the couch by Izuru, he places himself in between your legs, his big hands ride up the back of your thighs as he pushes your knees up to your shoulders putting you in a fetal like position. Izuru grabs the base of his hard cock and pushes his head into your throughly eaten hole, but just the head. “You just lay down and look real pretty while I drill this tight little pussy just the way you like it babe..” he says cooly. Inch by Inch he slowly sinks himself into your depths, impossible to hold his moans back, and feeling how wet you are for him “f-ffuuuuckkk baby… you’re so sweet and tight for me.” Izuru’s shutters, his face softening as he praises you and bottoms out, his full balls resting on your ass. Y/N gasps at the sheer girth of him, Izuru’s cock fits so perfectly inside of you like it was made just for you, each rib of his cock filling and rubbing your walls so good. Izuru stretches your legs out so they’re resting on his shoulders, he leans forward so your pinned underneath his body. His cock going impossibly deeper into you, causing breathy moans to break from your lips. “Ohhh.. Izuru baby, you feel so goooood..” y/n says feeling all of him inside her now, “I haven’t even started yet love.” He chuckles and smiles down at you, before he pulls out and slams back into your pussy, hard. Y/N yelps out, loudly this time and covers her mouth with her hand, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden movement. “Don’t do that..” Izuru huffs as he removes your hand from your mouth, “let me here you scream for daddy.” He says as he really starts to move, his cock ramming into you over and over, relentlessly. Izuru throws his head back and groans loudly as he finds a comfortable rhythm to fuck you too. “God your pussy is so fucking perfect… I miss feeling all of you baby..” he says to you in a forced but hushed tone, trying hard not to cum so soon. “I want to be in you forever.” Izuru claims and pushes your legs to his waist so he can get as close to you as he can, his face instinctively going to the crook of your neck breathing you in. His left hand coming up to cup your soft boob, rubbing and playing with your sensitive nipple while he moved his hips at a slower pace, in hopes this would help him last. His orgasm approaching quicker than he’d like.

The storm was still raging on outside, thunder rolling and lightning flashing through the small slit in the living room curtains. The rain weltering against the windows hard. The scary weather outside was not gonna stop either of you from your current festivities. Y/N wraps her legs around Izuru’s hips as he fills her up, his balls slapping noisily against her butt. So much passion filled the space around and between you and him, no thoughts were processed and no words were spoken just gasps and moans filled the room. He felt so good inside of you. With his warm, heavy body laying against yours. His long slender fingers toying with your sensitive nipple and his breath ragged against your ear, moaning at the feeling of your slick, and creamy pussy sucking him in hungrily. Izuru’s head had begun to spin, as his balls tightened up signaling he was about to cum. Y/Ns soft hands roamed Izuru’s strong back feeling his muscles rippling underneath her palms before settling on his chiseled shoulders. “I don’t.. don’t think I’m gonna last.. much longer. Gonna fucking c-cum.” Izuru pants against you. His cock started to twitch inside, pushing up against your sensitive spot causing y/n to cry out loudly, tears pricking the edge of her eyes. Hearing him speak such things to you tonight was sending you completely over the edge, but that.. what he just said that was the last puzzle piece you needed that sent you straight into your next orgasm. Y/N cry’s loudly as her 2nd orgasm takes over her body like a freight train. Cumming harder the second time than the first, gushing even more all over Izuru’s cock and body. The squeezing and pulsing around his cock did Izuru in, his face contorting with pure bliss, he moans loudly before pulling out and shooting his warm load all of your stomach and breasts, grunting with each shot and thrusting his cock in his fist as he held on through his orgasm, the strong waves rolling through his entire body, leaving him shuttering and shaking. Completely spent now, his cock going soft as he sat there panting and sweaty. Izuru looks down at you, a complete mess covered in your mixed fluids, fucked dumb, panting, and shiny with sweat just like him. He smiles at you with blushed cheeks “you looks so beautiful baby..” he states as he climbs from the now bodily fluid soaked couch giving you room to sit up and recompose yourself. “Let me go and run us a shower babe, wait here.” He says before disappearing upstairs to restart the shower he had already taken.

10:45 PM

Before getting a chance to come downstairs to get you, y/n appears at the bathroom doorway reaching for the hand towel to clean herself up quickly before stepping into the shower with Izuru. Izuru turns away from the shower and sees y/n wiping herself down, stepping towards her and wrapping his arms around her and kissing her shoulders, upper back, and neck, giving her a tight squeeze from behind. “I love you so much y/n. Please never forget that, I’m always gonna be yours.” Izuru says against her chilled skin kissing between each word. “Cmon let’s get you cleaned up.” He says before taking a hand in yours and leading you to the now warm shower. Rinsing you down and washing your body gently, kissing your soft, clean skin, and face repeatedly. After the shower y/n brushes her teeth and hair and dresses in a loose fitted shirt, cotton pink panties yawning her way into the warm bed next to Izuru, who lazily wraps the comforter and his long arms around you and pulls you into his chest. “I’ll bring you the sun, moon, and stars someday my love. Goodnight, beautiful…” he promises sleepily before dozing off soundly. Y/N curled up against his chest, warm, and exhausted hearing his words resonate soundly in her skull ‘sun, moon, and stars huh.. I really am so lucky to have you, Izuru Kira, my melancholy boy. I’m glad to have you back.’ Y/N smiles as she thinks to herself, nuzzling closer to Izuru before dozing off into a deep sleep tangled up in the arms and legs of her lover boy. With the storm outside coming to an end, the residual drops from the rooftop gently tapping against the glass window pane, the night sky clearing and the moonlight shining bright through the curtains, over the gently sleeping forms, of both y/n and Izuru..

End..🌸💕

🌸BLEACH REQUESTS ARE OPEN🌸

— Thanks for reading! I had so much fun writing this 💕I hope this is similar to what you wanted. lmk if not, I’ll take all the constructive criticism I can get to help me get better at writing 🥺

[nastyacitrus]

I feel endlessly tired, to be honest.

I want the summer of 2002 to come, I am five years old again, live in the countryhouse with my family, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the tall birch trees are rustling, and flowers, vegetables and fruits are growing in the garden.

During the day, I walk with my mom through the nearby fields, she bites a spikelet and teaches me to pull out the kernels of green and still soft wheat, and I, usually a calm and melancholy child, run around, studying the fields, rivers, a village with a well and a bridge over a river. In the evening, mom tells me bedtime stories, and I dream about the big and wonderful world that I will soon see.

The sun's rays enter my room, shine through the curtains and I crawl out from under the heavy blanket. Slipping into my small, faded slippers and go to look for my grandmother, who has been tending her garden since early morning. She sends me to wash my face with cold water from the tap outside while she makes me breakfast. I watch the spring water pour onto the ground from the tap, pooling in a large, dirty puddle as I scrub my hands and face with soap.

The options for today's fun are so amazingly interspersed in my head! “What should I do?”. You can play with a multi-colored plush dog and a small, plump toy bee with one wing, you can imagine yourself as an archaeologist and dig a hole in the corner of the garden, hoping to find something no less important than Troy, you can ride on the fence, or you can try to catch the golden fish in a tiny ditch filled with water that separates our summer cottage from the road. You can lie on the grass, read, sleep, watch a cartoon or soom series on a pot-bellied black-and-white TV, and you can also go swimming, although only in the late afternoon, when grandma has finished watering the tomatoes and peppers.

You can also eat berries and apples straight from the trees, you can pick a small cucumber, a tomato, take a couple of sweet peppers and go on a journey along the country alley, feeling safe among elderly summer residents just like your grandmother. You can walk through the wet grass and dream while your pockets full of fresh vegetables and fruits become lighter with every tenth step.

You can feel such peace and such endless happiness and joy in your soul that now you can’t even believe that this was possible.

[chronal-anomaly]

@byanyan asked:

ㅤㅤ" ...i've killed someone. "ㅤwords rise from where byan lay stretched out across the couch, cutting through the otherwise peaceful atmosphere of the flat like a knife. it's abrupt, seemingly out of nowhere, and no part of them outside of their lips moves as they speak, their gaze continuing to stare through the ceiling above. tongue loosened by drugs taken before they even climbed through the familiar window, taken in an effort to stifle painful memories that have resurfaced on a melancholy day, the statement has found itself slipping free in a place they know to be safe and secure. ...maybe coming to lena's was the wrong choice. ㅤㅤ" when i was fourteen. "ㅤa clarification; they don't want her thinking this happened on their way over. ...they don't want her thinking worse of them, changing her mind about them, either. but the words are out there now. too late to turn back. still, there's hesitation — hands grip one another tightly where they perch across byan's stomach, painted nails digging into flesh to keep their voice from wavering. —or maybe it's to keep those vivid memories from flashing past again. even they aren't sure. ㅤㅤ" ...guy just attacked me as i was walkin' by on my way home. think it was about the way i was dressed, or somethin'. couldn't quite make out what he was saying. "ㅤa lie; they'd heard most of the nastiness he'd spewed at them, they simply don't want to recall all of it if they don't have to.ㅤ" i didn't— ...i didn't want t' do it. but i wasn't as strong back then, i couldn't get away from 'im, an' even swingin' my knife around didn't make 'im back off. " pausing, byan falls silent for long enough that one might think they've finished. chewing on their lip, body tense as they remember the way they'd felt in that moment — that icy cold fear that had chilled their veins — they blink and try to ground themself back into the moment. swallowing, their voice is quieter when they continue, just shy of being a whisper; ㅤㅤ" ...he was gonna kill me. i could tell. the look in his eyes, the way he was talkin'... it was him or me. i wasn't gonna let some miserable old fuck be the one to take me out. so... i didn't let 'im. "

The story hung in the air, a cruel and violent thing crashing through the delicate, if slightly tense silence that permeated the air. Since Byan had crashed through her window - despite the unlocked back door - their mannerisms had come with the heavy influence of drugs far beyond the occasional spliff the pair shared. Something was wrong, indelibly so, but Lena maintained her side of the silent code they shared. Don't ask, don't tell, don't press. Either it would come out as the night continued through their clumsy routine, or the unspoken plague would slip away under the impact of genuine laughs and good food.

Something told Lena that their favorite comedy wouldn't solve this melancholy of the soul the Byan faced.

And so she had waited, pulling two meals from the crockpot on the counter, leaving the couch open for them as she took residence in the reclining armchair, eating in uneasy silence as they battled whatever demons that poisoned their psyche.

Stolen confessions, she once heard them referred to. Monstrous things, stealing control over the tongue and slipping secrets far from the mind's control. Lena decided it was a fitting title for the beast that tore its way from Byan's mouth.

[ The dizzying feeling of gunpowder wormed into the grooves of her fingertips whirled around her, the scent of death flaring to life in her nostrils for a momentary reemergence of similar memories. It was you or him. ]

Lena sat up, the old chair protesting the moment. For a second, her expression was unreadable, isolating, as she wrestled with each response. Filtered, discarded, repeated, as she settled on something that, once upon a time, she would have wanted to hear. The silence stretched between the two of them.

"Okay." Her tone was soft as she let the word hang in the air. There was no hint of accusation, of sudden eviction, of evilness that laced through it, no fear or anger or threat of harm. It was an acknowledgement, a promise. I hear you, was carved in the subtext, and I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry you had to do that.

[ Blood stained her clothes, her fingertips. It soaked into the cracks in her skin, muddied the spaces between her nail and bed. The water steamed; the soap stung. The blood didn't budge. ]

Tongue between teeth, the grounding startle of pain dragging her from the burning water and scorched skin. Lena leaned forward, old leather groaning again, to look at Byan's prone form. She did not expect a returning glance.

"That sounds scary. I know it was for me, after my first."

It was a lifeline, tossed out into the turbulent seas that they battled. Something to latch onto, a familiar experience in a world that deemed it a hellish thing. The scales of justice were so heavy.

"Took me weeks to feel clean again. Still not sure I am."

[jiraidreams]

Catatonia

Mornings start with the sweetest melancholy With the dawning of conscience, a familiar friend Limbs yet too heavy to lift, a heart heavier to bear Inert and cold, unnable to do anything other than think Body sedated, but not numb to the terror and the pain The sunlight goes right through me, yet I don't feel it's warmth

Blood is but poison that runs through my veins, The pain is but smoke that burns my eyes Of forest fires that made my bones ashes long ago It makes me blind to the life before my eyes

I'm a soul trapped inside a living carcass Flesh rotten and full of maggots, feeding on the putrid mind Both the puppet and it's master Mindlessly guiding a cadaver that belongs to no other than myself

One day from this lifeless body flowers will bloom And they'll perish soon, For the mind can die out, the train of thoughts ceased I can be gone forever But yet not even death can erase: The sadness remains, forever

[variantia]

          They’ve got their violin out again, although this time they’re not just playing.   Its body is tucked up against them, under their chin as they glide the bow over its strings, in a display of technique that’s both skillful and EMOTIONAL.

          They’re playing SVRCINA’s “Effortless”, and in addition to the music, they’re also singing along.   The arrangement they’re using is still energetic, but also a bit more ... melancholy of a beat.

          “   ♫   Feels like I’m surrounded inside                          I’m so undecided ... what’s right ?                          Think deep, but I don’t sleep at night                          emotions are crowding my mind                          looking THROUGH THE PIECES that don’t make sense                          leave me with these thoughts running through my head                          I just wanna go fast, fast, fast, baby                          I just wanna get past all the things in my way                          I just wanna go fast, fast, fast, baby                          I should be letting go of what to fix                          shouldn’t this be EFFORTLESS ?                          Ice cold all around me, but why                          do I burn up all the problems I have in my life ?                          And now my thoughts are like a meadow                          getting trampled by the past                          all my intentions come to a collapse                          ‘cause I wanna go fast, fast, fast, baby                          I just wanna get past ALL THE THINGS IN MY WAY                          I just wanna go fast, fast, fast, baby                          I should be letting go of what to fix                          shouldn’t this be effortless ?                          All I really wanna do is lean back, lean back                          everything is simple when it’s out of my hands, my hands                          all I really wanna do is lean back, lean back                          everything is simple when it’s OUT OF MY HANDS                          I just wanna go fast, fast, fast, baby                          I just wanna get past all the things in my way                          I just wanna go fast, fast, fast, baby                          I should be letting go of what to fix                          shouldn’t this be effortless ?   ♫   ”

          This song obviously means something to them.   Something too heavy for even the most mature child to be singing with this much raw feeling, even if they’re singing quietly.

          It’s the look in their eyes as they play and sing, the way they make every movement with such intensity.   It’s like the song is something broadcasting from their SOUL itself.   As if all their emotions are being let out in every lyric that passes their lips, every draw of their bow across the strings of their violin.

          Anyone who has ever accused Chara of being emotionless or cold would probably choke on those words after seeing this side of them.   They’re still keeping control of themself even as they’re clearly feeling so deeply, but there’s no question their heart is on fire at this moment.

          For anyone who knows them well, it might be apparent more than ever that Chara has some terrible pain they’ve shoved inside and are carrying around all the time.   They don’t reveal it ... except in moments like this.

          “   ♫   Shouldn’t this be                          shouldn’t this be                          shouldn’t this be                          SHOULDN’T THIS BE EFFORTLESS ?   ♫   ”

[lyssjlynn]

….

the negative thoughts i once heard at the front of my mind were shoved into the back of my head, leaving a dull ache in their wake. the self-deprecating voices were screeching whilst falling on deaf ears. the ache blossomed into a migraine, reminding me no matter how far the voices were from my hearing, that they would always be a faint whisper into the night of unresolved issues and shameful feelings. my ears are ringing as i lay, insomnia gnawing at my brain as i try to breathe ~ 4-7-8. my chest tightens as my breaths become shallow, air nipping at my lungs and stinging my throat. unshed tears rest, yet never fall as i blink hazardously, begging to rest for once. the memories, the nightmares, of past traumas and muffled sobbing makes way in the dark to my mind. the remembrance of lonely nights coats my body with chills as i pray to fall asleep. the loud hands on the clock strike 2 a.m before i know it. the reminder to wake up early long forgotten as i lay still, inviting the depressed-stricken thoughts back in. crying out for help, but not able to speak. begging for the tears to not leave my eyes as i return to the reality of pain and anxiety. help. help me. please. my mind couldn’t scream any louder now. someone please help. i can’t escape the dark cloud that has loomed over my mind and soul. i can’t escape the screaming voices that are begging to destroy me. is this what it’s like to feel lonely, to feel abandoned? am i supposed to feel the overwhelming shadows of my troubles, as they overlook me where i lay? i can only take so much, can only feel so much. the numbness i’m so used to has eased up and the forgotten emotions i had pushed to the side are rushing back, knocking me down and pinning me to the ground. my cries for help are louder now, almost too loud. ~ stop it. this isn’t right. you’re over exaggerating. you’re being selfish~. they’re so loud now, exerting their voices to be heard above my wails. my throat feels raw even though it’s not been used. my eyes puffy and swollen with unshed tears. my chest tight and restricted by short breaths. it’s getting to be too much. i can’t think or speak. i can’t breath or move. i can’t do anything. i’m paralyzed as i listen to the darkest depths of my mind, telling me i’m unworthy and good for nothing. the fight and hope i once had in me has diminished to a small spark, soon to go out as the cold feeling washes over me. i can hear the buzzing getting louder and i clutch my chest, eyes frozen wide as they’re stricken with fear of my own mind. my heart thrumming a fast pace, too fast to catch up to. my breath uneven as if i ran a marathon. all my insecurities of being annoying and incompetent have settled in the forefront of my head, reminding me once again how much of a burden i am. the depression that once felt like a scratch has started to itch. the anxiety that once froze in my blood stream has now rushed through me at an unfamiliar pace, keeping me on my toes and bringing me down. i stumble in place as i realize the severity of the beaten down thoughts running throwing my body, chilling me to bone and stinging my skin. i feel it now. the haze sent over me as if to protect me from my own self-hatred. the lightheadedness and fuzzy feeling is now diminished. i feel stoic and stuck, scared to move in case it restarts the process of my attack. i lay still once more, twitching and blinking as i try not to relive the state of panic that had gripped my body so quickly. the insomnia i once felt has been replaced with a melancholy feeling that leaves my eyes droopy. i’m not at peace yet. i will never be at peace, but at least i can sleep. i can rest, as for now i am left alone with no more voices or heavy breathing. i’m alone. finally. - l.j.

[reikumaz]

he needs me, he needs me, he needs me, he needs me...

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ the fic it was originally meant to be in can be found here!

note: angsty scene that i cut from my ficlet! i cleaned it up a bit and tried to tie loose ends but didn’t wanna add too much more to it so some parts and transitions are a bit lackluster sorry! couldn't find a way to incorporate this scene so i shall post it on its own because i enjoyed it.

“rei… rei, please answer me… i know you’re in there,” you say softly, hand pressed against the well kept wood of rei's door.

silence.

“rei,” you’re growing desperate, your voice is shaking, its stead is breaking. how your throat narrows and collapses in on itself is almost too much to bare.

you try so hard. you have to be strong, strong for rei, strong for the both of you. you can’t let him hear you cry. the house of cards the two of you worked so hard to build will collapse in on itself, but you can’t hold in the pain the seeps into your veins, immersing within to become one with the ichor that makes you.

it's a tragedy fit for someone as reverent as rei.

your fingers curl into a fist, voice cracking as you call out for him again.

“i won’t leave you, rei, no matter how much you try to make me,” you sniffle against the door, pressing as close as you can into it, eyes close as you imagine the cold exterior is rei’s welcoming chest.

so you stay.

you stay against that door, your body weary, watch as remnants of your past go by, ghosts of better time gracefully leap through narrow halls.

you are silent, compressed your back to the only thing separating you and your boyfriend. you could be mistaken for a widow in mourning, wounds fresh from your lover's passing.

in some cruel twist of fate, that title feels almost fitting for you. you are but a soul devoted to the dead, a soul dedicated to the memory of old times.

"you are alive, rei," you remind him gently, voice soften with grief, a sigh passes, a sigh meant to be "a living being like the rest of us. you should join us out here,"

you let the melancholy wash over your skin in waves, the silence that persists only causes it to crash harder against your shore. you long for an answer, even if only a whisper to drift through the night.

you are not one to lose hope. after death.. comes life. rei used to ramble about that sort of thing, that there is more to this world than the misery forced into your realm. but rei would not let things be so simple. so you let your eyelids grow heavy, you allow them to shut to dream of a world of light, a world where you and rei can look back on this and joke as you used to. it’s only when you feel something heavy engulf your body you stir, eyesight blurry as you’re met with a figure towering over you. upon further inspection, you make out ritsu’s features. he’s saying something to you but you can’t make out what he’s saying. he incessantly tugs at your figure and he looks a bit distressed, proceeding to knock on his brother’s door and you catch a bit of watch he’s saying.

ritsu was demanding for his brother to open the door and something else with it. to no surprise, there’s no answer and ritsu looks like a kicked kitten, clutching your sleeve and pointing to his own room.

but your energy is gone. you can't move. it’s so hard to even imagine standing to your feet. your body yearns for your lover, to be let in and see him once more after so much time has managed to leave your vessel feeling abandoned by your soul. you slump onto the ground much to the other's dismay, bathing in the cool beams of moon.

the next morning, you open your eyes and you find yourself in the familiar setting that is rei’s room. immediately, you perk up and cast your eyes to every spot in the room in order to find your beloved boyfriend only to be met with an empty room and the lingering scent of his cologne in the air.

there is nothing, no loving arms to scoop your fragile state together, no warm lips to kiss your worries away. only an abyss of darkness as your eyes adjust themselves to the low lighting.

he could be outside elsewhere. he's waited for you outside his room before. yet, when you go to the kitchen you’re only met with his younger brother looking at you.

“anija left this an hour ago, he told me to make sure you get home safely.” he takes a bite of the cake he was eating, mumbling the next part more to himself rather than to you. “not that i needed that useless cretin to order me to do that, i planned on it regardless,”

with a sweet smile crossing his lips, he lifts the plate towards you. “want a bit- oh…”

tears have claimed their stake on your cheeks. when had you begun to cry?

rei is gone. again. once more he has eluded your grasp. he is running, running far away from you, from his family, from the people who surrounded him, from the world…

rei is gone. again. once more he has eluded your grasp. he has fled those he is scared of losing, running far away from you, from his family, from the people who surrounded him, from the world…

you know he is weary, that his mind is frantic trying to find any solution or outcome… that his shoulders must sag with all he feels he must carry. and you know he must not show it, must not be caught looking weak, or else that vulnerability will turn malleable then shaped into something much larger than it already is.

have you really failed at helping him in the moment he needed you the most? why can’t he just let you do this for him? you watched him slip away like the grains of sand of time through the very crevices of your fingers.

before you can spiral any deeper into the depths of the darker corners of your brain, you’re pulled into a rather tight, but fairly awkward embrace. it’s more ritsu clinging to you like a child than him holding you.

“i know what it’s like to never have him around, to have him gone when you need him the most. you know how that feels, too,” ritsu says monotonously, staying quiet before requesting, “don’t leave me, too, it’ll be like losing two siblings,”

the last sentence is all it took. the tears an endless cascade as they bead your eyes, vision obscured by the flood that spilled. the air rushing your lungs burns, albeit you’ve grown used to the fire kindled since the war has begun. it didn’t soften the blow, it never does, gasping for air as your throat constricts and smolders. you can’t breathe, it feels as though without rei, you’ve forgotten the fundamentals of life. without him, where could you turn to?

you continue to choke out sob after sob, sputtering words that were carelessly thrown to form a sentence but nothing formulated any truths.

eyes close, welcoming your world without rei; a pitch dark void.

[englass]

Cry For Us

Pairing(s): Yandere? Seed Bros x Reader

Warning(s): Low mood, Depressing thoughts, Manipulative behaviour, Yandere/Possessive behaviour, Non-consensual touching (nothing explicit), The Seed Bros being themselves, terrible dialogue. 

Word Count: 4,195

A/N(S): Gonna start this off by apologising to @derelictheretic , @fadedjacket and anyone else that I’ve not responded to a WIP Day tag for over the last couple of weeks; I’m so sorry! 😭 Please take this finished piece as part of my apology and belated WIP Day contribution, even if it Is no longer an actual WIP anymore ❤️

- - -

It’s another one of those nights.

The house is cold and empty and so, so dark. So reminiscent of the home which houses your poor, fragile soul. Lights off with hardly an echo of feeling, thoughts non-existent as you just sit there, curled up tight in the corner of your couch and swamped by your jumper. Too large for your short frame, but comforting. Your only comfort. The closest thing to a hug you can get.

There’s a terrible headache that won’t ease. No tears to accompany it, except a bone deep weariness. Your limbs heavy and your mind painfully void of thought. And every time you try to think of something there’s another pulse behind your eyes, another ache within your head that makes your eyes sting with the threat of tears.

They don’t fall though. They never do. They’ll just make the headache worse.

It’s not like you have anything to cry about anyway. It’s just...

It’s just another one of those nights. Another one of those days. Another one of those weeks.

You should have known, really. Should have known that after months of feeling fine that you’d eventually crash. That your mood would slowly liquidate between your fingers and you’d be left empty handed, lost and made hollow save for a persistent headache and a draining fatigue. Stuck to bone and muscle and soul.

Melancholy.

Pure, soul crushing melancholy.

And as always you’re not sure what's caused it. Too many things maybe; nothing at all perhaps. It’s a gradual descent. A small misstep and then you’re stuck. Like quicksand. And like quicksand the only thing you know to do is to stop moving. To let it run its course and hope that it won’t pull you any deeper. That you’ll get out of it, eventually.

That knowledge offers little comfort though.

Body aching you shift, feel the cold touch the places you’ve kept warm and feel the cold places your warmth hasn’t touched. A small sound of discomfort whining lowly in your throat, briefly stretching out your legs before pulling them close again. Hands staying safely protected within the arms of your comfort jumper, fingers kept warm in the crook of your elbow.

Settling, you place your head gently on the arm of your couch, rubbing your cheek into the hood of your jumper. Thrown over your head not long after deciding on your current resting place.

That must have been hours ago now. It was the early evening when you first sat down, and now the sky is dark and the moon is out.

With a deep sigh you pull your hood further over your head, the cold quick to chill your fingers before they retreat back inside your jumper. The thick fabric obscuring your view save for part of the coffee table in front of you, a half empty cup that has long gone cold.

It’s a waste. You should probably drink it, even if it won't taste great. Or dump it down the sink. But you don’t. You just stare. Blink slow and breathe deep and just stare.

You aren't particularly religious. Don’t know if there is some sort of higher power out there, not convinced you’d be able to comprehend it if there was. But times like this you wondered. Times like this you wondered if that higher power was out there, if it knew of you. Knew of the questions you had: of why you were like this, why it felt like you were losing yourself, why you were slowly spilling out onto the floor and unable to soak up the pieces; why you became like a cracked and empty glass, unable to hold even a millilitre of happiness.

You know no one will hear you, that no one would answer you if you were to ask, let alone some divine entity, but still... you still wanted someone to hear you. Still wanted someone to answer you no matter how unlikely. You just wanted someone to tell you what to do, to give you the answers and teach you how to fix this broken part of yourself. You just wanted someone to be there for you, to acknowledge and accept this broken husk that you become.

You just wanted someone to hold you, to keep you close and safe and to not let go.

You just want someone to love you--

Vision slightly blurred and a wet whimper catching, dying in your throat, your body freezes up as you hear the distinct click of your front door, followed by the creaking of your floorboards. Can just about hear a subtle thunk beneath the measured groaning of your crappy apartment. Heart rate picking up, cold digging deeper, headache throbbing with every continued noise that shouldn’t be. That doesn’t belong.

After all, you live alone.

With a sniffle you slowly turn your head, cautiously eyeing the doorway, burying further into yourself as some distant part of you absently wonders if the ghost you sometimes swear you live with (or maybe that’s your lonely mind playing tricks on you) is about to walk into the room.

You wait with bated breath. Release it with a whine that sounds so terribly loud to your pulsing head as a shape fills the doorway.

No, you realise with widening eyes and a shaky echo trapped in your throat, it’s so much worse than any ghost.

Even with the room bathed in darkness, only split apart by the cracks of moonlight cutting sharp incisions into the shadows, you can’t mistake the man in your home. His tall and bulky frame completely takes up the space of your doorway. Always so intimidating, but even more so now, with you at your most vulnerable, frail and weak, and with the shadows and pale moonlight striking harsh and menacing lines across his scarred features.

Jacob Seed is not a man you ever wanted in your home.

For an agonising moment nothing happens, the both of you just existing in the same room. Staring at him with a different breed of cold settling over you as he carefully takes in your surroundings, too-blue eyes that almost seem to glow with the light of the moon reflected in them, unhurriedly scanning over everything before landing on you.

His sudden sigh startles you, makes you flinch and creates a pitiable sound within your throat. Head hanging for a second before he shakes it gently, looking back up at you with a look you don’t quite have the mental wherewithal to understand.

“‘Seems they were right, after all,” he observes thoughtfully, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling within your head. “You’re close to breakin’,” he takes a meaningful step towards you, “aren’t ya, pup?”

Distantly, buried somewhere beneath the blanket that has smothered all that you truly are, muting everything inside to a far off echo, you feel you should be offended; so boldly being laid bare like that. Flesh torn back to reveal how soft and squishy you are. How fragile; how weak. But you can’t quite reach it. Can’t grasp the shame that should come with being called out like that, feeling like it’s just a hairbreadth away but yet still so far.

Even your fear feels distant; sedated and so unattainable.

The way the imposing man practically prowls towards you, head high as he looks down at you, should scare you. Make you get up and run, attempt to try and put distance between you, but you barely feel a whisper; drowning in complete apathy.

What would be the point anyway? That’s all it will be: an attempt. You know you’d barely make it to your front door before he’d grab you. And you already feel so tired. So drained and just… empty. No energy to really think about it, let alone take your chances.

Nothing has really happened yet you already feel so defeated. So done. So ready to go to sleep and pray that tomorrow will be better. So ready to just lie back and accept whatever fate has in store for you. So ready to just give up… that you already have.

Jacob stops beside you. Watches you as you watch him before you close your eyes, turn your head away to hide within your hood. A hand venturing into the cold to grab and hold it down over you, another wounded sound slipping through closed lips.

Listening, you focus on the sound of your shaky breaths. Can make out the sound of Jacob’s calm breathing and the shifting swish of fabric. Can hear and even feel the slow dip of the space next to you, tensing at the unexpectedly weary sigh from the man now sitting at your side.

“I’m not here to hurt ya,” he smoothly rumbles, “if that’s what you’re worried about. We’re just concerned, is all.”

You huff a breath through your nose before you can stop yourself, but thankfully Jacob doesn’t seem to take any offence. Merely replies with a hum.

“They’ll be here soon. Johnny’s been pitching a fit ‘last few days. Been driving me and Joe crazy with how much he’s been fretting over ya,” he says with a breath of a laugh.

Another sound slips from you, weak and exhausted, as the hand holding your hood down slips beneath it. Warms itself against your forehead and eases the ache within your skull, if only for a second.

Something moves behind you, lays itself across the back of the couch, but you pay it little to no mind. Too busy focusing on the numbness in your toes, the hidden shivers over your body at how cold you feel. Trying to search for some sort of word or emotion to throw out there. Nothing comes though, and instead it just creates another ache in your skull.

“Then again,” he continues, oddly conversational, “me and Joe have hardly been any better. We just have a different way of showing it.”

Apparently whatever has placed itself behind you is not intent on letting you ignore it. Feeling it move and then a small jolt of a tug that has your hood being carefully pulled away from you. “Not this time though,” eyes opening to look at the man next to you, his bright eyes easily catching your dull ones. “For once we’re all in agreement about what we need to do. Question is, ‘you gonna let us?” He asks, eyebrow raising at your blank stare.

With a flutter your eyes close again, unable and unwilling to keep the contact. Maybe he’ll go away if you ignore him. Maybe he’ll put you out of your misery. He has done for many others, if the rumours are to be believed.

A sharp click of a tongue and a mumbled “guess not” is all the warning you get before your hood is unceremoniously dropped back over you. A gasp and startled protest tripping over your lips as a hand suddenly wraps itself around your shoulders, tugs you sideways as another hand hooks itself under your knees and quickly drags you over into your assailant's lap. A clear fizzle of panic getting your stiff body to struggle pathetically against his hold.

“Goddamn-- calm down will ya, pup? Already told you I’m not gonna hurt ya. You don’t have to be so fucking stubborn...” He grouches, hand kept firm around your shoulder to pin you to his chest, his other hand slipping out from under your knees to instead steal beneath your skewed hood and hold your head against him; fingers carding through your hair as he does so.

Your breath stutters at the contact, a mistiness entering your vision. Body tensing, pulling your legs closer, curling up into yourself as well as unintentionally into the man holding you. Faltering as you feel just how warm he is.

“There ya go. See? Nothin’ to worry about. You’re okay, pup. It’s alright. You’re alright…”

You can’t remember the last time someone held you like this; comforted you. Just let you be without asking too many questions, without needing some sort of explanation, without making some sort of comment about how you feel. You can’t control it. You don’t know how to stop it. It’s not your fault that you’re fragile. It’s not your fault something is missing. It’s not your fault that part of you is broken. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault…

Lip trembling you take a shuddery gasp of a breath, squeaking as your throat tightens. Head pounding as you fight to keep the tears at bay. Hands slipping from the arms of your jumper to disappear into your middle pocket, one hand finding its way back into your opposite sleeve as the other bypasses it. Stays hidden within your pocket to sneakily clutch at Jacob’s shirt. Soaking in the warmth of his skin beneath the material as your hood cushions your cheek against his chest.

“Don’t hold back, honey. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re so strong, d’you know that?” he hushes, “So brave to keep on fighting, even when you want nothing more than to stop. You’re so exhausted, aren’t ya pup? Well, you don’t have to carry that burden alone anymore. It’s okay to rely on others. It’s okay to let go. It’s okay to cry every once in a while…”

You shake your head, breaths getting deeper and quicker as Jacob continues to stroke your hair, words of praise and comfort murmured above you, vibrating from him into you as you try to focus on the pain in your head instead of him. Focusing on all the reasons why he’s wrong, why you can’t trust him, all while desperately trying not to cry. You don’t want to cry. You don’t want to. You can’t, you shouldn’t.

The opening of the front door startles you slightly, makes you try and hide yourself deeper in Jacob’s bulk, pulling your hood over your face and trapping his hand against your head as you hear the quick footfalls of your latest intruders.

“Well, you two took your time,” is Jacob’s gruff greeting.

There’s an answering scoff, quickly overshadowed by a patient, “We had a few urgent matters come up that needed our attention. How are they?”

Joseph, you realise anxiously, fingers tightening in your hold over your hood and Jacob’s shirt.

The oldest brother grunts with a noncommittal shrug, “Could be better. They barely put up a fight when I grabbed ‘em. Haven't moved since.”

“Jacob,” is Joseph’s gentle admonishment.

“What? You expect me to see ‘em all curled up like this and not do something? Don’t be a fool, Joe.”

“You shouldn’t have forced them though, brother. We all know how skittish they are about being touched.”

“Funny, I don’t remember you havin’ a problem with that when you suggested this little intervention. What was it you said again? Something about exposure…”

There’s a strained sigh, exasperated.

The conversation between the brothers fades into the background as an echo of suspicion takes up your periphery; unsure why Joseph is trying to take some sort of high ground when you know that he’s the touchiest of them all. The fact that he -- they are aware of your dislike of being touched and would still do it anyway doesn't help your currently subdued distrust towards the men, either.

Swallowing thickly you carefully readjust yourself, legs stretching out a few inches before yanking them back as something brushes against them. A choppy whine becoming lodged in your throat as you feel something -- a hand? -- place itself on your knee, taking a steady hold of it.

“Ah ah, easy there! My, you really are jumpy, aren’t you? It’s okay though. You don’t have to be so scared anymore, my dear. We’re here now,” John, you tremble. “Can I see you? Will you let me? I just want to see your pretty face…” The couch dips at the added weight, thumb rubbing indiscernible patterns into your knee as soft fingers ghost over the back of your hand. Easing around and into your palm, applying a coaxing pressure as he pries your hand and hood away from your face.

With a low noise you hesitantly open your eyes, blinking against the honeyed glow of the lamp John must have turned on behind him. Defiantly keeping your eyes down as you notice and feel him start to invade your space, leaning in until he’s almost over your lap as he desperately tries to meet your eyes.

The barest hint of betrayal colours you as Jacob stops stroking your hair, grazing over your cheek with a soothing touch before loosely slotting his fingers around your neck, thumb and pointer finger resting uncomfortably on the angle of your jaw. Raising your head to look at his brother as you whimper plaintively, unable to break away the moment John’s ocean deep eyes catch your own.

A boyish smile lights up his face. Eyes twinkling with an adoration you’ve never seen before as they drink in your weary expression. Softening and turning sympathetic the longer he looks at you, the more he takes in. Colours layered with a gleam of understanding that makes your chest tighten.

“Oh, sweetheart,” lip wobbling you sniffle, trying to ignore his tone as he releases your knee. Hand cradling your cheek as the other manages to wiggle your hood free from your grip, pushing it away from your face and then taking your hand in his, drawing it close until he can press his own cheek into your palm. Beard scratching at the sensitive skin.

“Look at you,” he coos sweetly, “You’re so perfect for us. Why don't you cry? I can see that you want to. I bet you look even prettier when you cry too. You know there’s no shame in it, right? We won’t judge you for it, we’ll never judge you for anything. We just want to help you, darling. To look after you. Don’t you want that? Won’t you let us? Won’t you let us love you?”

Your lips twist, eyes stinging as your vision starts to blur again. Only just seeing the sudden feverish hunger that flickers to life in his eyes at your reaction, a predatory shade churning their colour darker as he slinks closer. A whimper shared in the space between.

“Oh. Oh. Yes, yes that’s it darling! Just like that. You’re being so good for me, so good. It’s okay to cry, sweetheart. It’s okay. You know we’ll look after you, right? We’ll protect you, I promise we will. We always will. You’ll never have to pretend again. We’ll keep you safe. We’ll take you home and you can have whatever you want, whatever your heart desires. I’m more than happy to spoil you, just tell me what you want. Anything you want and it’s yours, you just need to tell me. You just need to rely on me, only me. I’ll take such good care of you if you let me love--”

“John. That’s enough.”

He freezes. Takes a shuddery breath as he realises how close he has gotten to you, his mania driving him deeper into your (and Jacob’s) space until his nose is almost bumping yours. Shades of colour shifting like tempestuous waves as he turns to his brother with wide and glossy eyes, his rapturous tone switching to a high and petulant whine.

“But Joseph--”

Joseph shakes his head, lamp light casting a glare across his glasses as he takes a step forward. “I know you want to help them, John. We all do. But you must have patience. You shouldn’t pressure them so.”

John furrows his brow, mouth opening with a retort before he’s beaten to it. A harsh scoff sounding out above you.

“Yeah, you only say that cos you wanna be the one to say the words to ‘em,” finally letting go of your jaw Jacob’s arm drops to your lap, fingertips brushing absently over your hip. Throwing a challenging look, “ain’t that right, Joe?”

Joseph levels his brother with a flat stare.

“All I am saying, Jacob,” he enunciates purposefully, smoothly navigating around the coffee table until he stands before you all, eyes shielded by yellow lenses as he gazes neutrally down at his older brother, “is that we don’t want to cause them unnecessary stress by being impatient and rushing into things. They’re dealing with enough as it is. We do not want to add to that.” Blue eyes made green shift to you. That unnerving calm of his, so self assured and righteous, mellows; his scrutinising gaze turning deceptively gentle as he smiles serenely at you. Hand placed atop your head, “Not more than we already have.”

His touch is heavy, domineering in how you can feel the intentional press of him. The smallest application of pressure threatening to bow your head. It makes you feel all the more hopeless. That yawning absence of thought and those swaddled remnants of emotion growing all the more noticeable. The lack of despair that you know you should be feeling, being so cruelly cornered like the wounded animal you are, drives the wedge in deeper. The involuntary acceptance weighted down by your vacancy of care, the captivity of self.

Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? Thoughts and feelings, all that you are, locked away in a place that you can’t quite reach. On the other side of a door that you don’t have the key to. Lost in a building so dark and vast that you see no end in sight; a compass without directions that does nothing but spin; straining to listen to the faded grinding of gears somewhere further beyond. But the room never changes, the compass never stops, the sound never gets louder no matter how much you try. Just stuck. Just still. Just a void that shouldn’t be.

It should make you sad. There’s an echo of that sadness, trying to breach the disconnect, but once again you can’t find the source. Can’t take hold or fully embrace it. Just aware that it’s there, like background noise you don’t pay a thought to. And even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to find it.

The only thing you do feel (other than a persistent headache) is tired; in every capacity.

Too physically weak to battle your way out of Jacob’s hold. Too mentally drained to analyse John’s every word and intonation. Too emotionally defeated to dread whatever intentions or warped plans Joseph has in mind for you.

This was planned, you know that much. And as Joseph steals your face away from his brother – John’s hands migrating to rest at the nape of your neck and splaying across your collarbone with his thumb to your throat, Jacob’s hands constricting in they’re hold as the one at your shoulder falls to join the other snaked around your waist – that tell-tale sting pricks your eyes again.

The world begins to blur around the edges as Joseph bends over you, angles your face heavenward to look directly up at him. Teary eyes forced to meet the blue turned green of your self-imposed saviour. His warm breath fanning over you, intently watching the fluttering of your lashes with every half blink you make; trying so hard to keep the tears at bay, so hard not to cry in front of him. In front of any of them.

You know they'll take advantage. Watch as you fall apart at the seams and the stuffing comes loose, act as if they didn’t brandish the scissors that tore your stitching out as they sew you back together. You know they will. Your vulnerability is prime meat for vultures like them.

Silently displeased by your show of restraint, Joseph’s stare sharpens. Turns razor-edged as he tilts his head with an unreadable expression. Grip constricting as he keeps you still, dissuades the need to fidget before you can act on it, observing every twitch with a critical eye. As if you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out how to conquer.

You can’t say you’d be surprised.

Something must show on your face because his gaze eases, takes on an edge so tender and warm that you feel as though you're being embraced by eye contact alone. It’s so raw that you feel yourself quake, fault lines threatening to come apart; stitching fraying and soft fuzz peaking out just as you feared they would.

And Joseph smiles.

He brushes your skin. Thumbs caressing your upper cheeks, further still until he’s so close to one of your eyes that you can’t help the instinctive reaction to protect it. Feeling the resistance of your lashes brushing his skin as you attempt to guard such a vulnerable part yourself from him.

But as his thumbs ease away, settling with cupping your face instead of ghosting over your eyelids, your breath stutters as you glimpse Joseph's smile grow into a grin, a gentle coo on his lips as you realise your mistake far too late; skin warm then shockingly cold as the air touches the tear line now running down your cheek.

A flash of emotion, poignant and real, lances through you:

Fear.

[jordyn-degas]

I’ve never seen a story like this, but may a request a naruto x fem!reader. Basically enemies to lovers type of story. It could be smut or fluff I don’t mind, but it’s been on my mind for a while.

thank you for this amazing ask 😫😫 you're brilliant! it stayed with me since i received it

this is such an interesting concept - true, haven't seen it before

i attempted it in a way i hope it works - took me a bit to circle around this one - they are kind of enemies - will make sense along the way

hope you'll enjoy 😊🥰

notes: fluff/angst

Rain mercilessly tore through any bit of clothing her body was covered with, drenching every inch, the pitch black cloak unable to sustain the heaviness of it along with its hood, all the cold water dripping down her face in multiple waves. Gritted teeth forced the jaw into a tensed contraction in hopes of alleviating the sharp pain conferred by the deep cut along the calf, wound oozing with dark blood slowly washed away by the rain. Her body flew at a desperate speed through the trees, once every three branches a foot landing and pushing even further, pleading with a deeply embedded rage that she will be capable of making it back, of not fainting from the amount of blood loss and collapse.

When the past and the present violently crashed into each other an hour ago, she did not expect for a single moment for such a trained mind, body and soul to crumble under a single, deep stare filled with nothing but love and purity. For the past few years, she did nothing but to live in a blinding haze of lost memories, aggravating blackouts and rivers of blood staining the porcelain skin of, now, bruised hands. When all countries deemed Y/N a traitor, a rogue Shinobi lost to a group that became an entirely dysfunctional family, taking her in and nursing every bit of the immense power she possessed, the fallen princess of Konoha believed it all to be true. She did not remember when the decision to desert all that was the most dearest was taken and never received an answer when the question was asked.

Multiple sounds of sharpness were picked up by one of the most skilled and keen hearing, blades missing the target by chance only for one specific kunai to stab its pointy tip through the material of the cloak covering her right arm. Tearing through it, Y/N made a miscalculated choice to dodge any possible incoming attacks and the ninja sandal's rubbery sole slipped against one of the branches, pushing her into losing all balance, dangerously plummeting to the ground. In an attempt to land safely, Y/N pressed the wounded leg against the muddy ground, keeping the hearing as active as possible despite heartbeats booming into her ears. Wincing, the knee caved under her from the searing pain, digging into the rain drenched mud.

"Finally." the voice that has been haunting her for years said, laced with tiredness and sorrow.

"Stay there!" Y/N growled, eyes trained on a pair of ninja sandals taking two steps towards her, feeling how the blood oozing out of the calf was flowing down furiously.

"Look at me." the other Shinobi said broken, yet relived, stopping where she instructed. "Please .."

That was the fatality of such moment that threw Y/N into a loop of unavoidable feelings, heart and mind fighting a most gruesome battle as she raised her head against all judgement. Barren eyes met bright blue, their shade stripping away all the darkness brought by the brutal storm, two flashes of pure light stabbing right through the numb organ pulsating into her heaving chest.

Children's laughter danced into ringing ears, whispers of a faint life that seemed to barely be alive, dying out heartbeats accompanying a past Y/N remembered through the cracks of a reality that was foreign. She recognized the boy standing before her, head cocked to the side with a painful melancholy that sent shivers down her tired spine.

"It's me." he said weakly, almost as if in a pain that could not be understood by anyone but her, lips curved downwards in disbelief at the sight. "Naruto."

Electric shocks pierced each synapse pulsating into her brain, the forceful grip of a familiar rage suffocating every part of what makes one human, being remembered, flashback after flashback, on who the person standing before her was. Every single fight in which they have been involved against each other, all the cuts and bruises left on one another, his voice calling her name over and over again as years passed by, relentlessly chasing Y/N for a purpose she could not quite understand. A kunai deeply embedded into Naruto's abdomen flashed inside her troubled mind, blood flowing in merciless waves that had him cough violently. This was one of the moments that have haunted Y/N for the past year, when they last met both on the brink of death in their fight, his desperate pleads for her to return.

Return where? Do I have where?

She did not remember of having a home and it most certainly could not be in Konoha, the village embedded into the brain to be destroyed completely.

"Y/N." Naruto extended a hand. "You will bleed out."

"Thanks to you." she sneered, gaining the force to push herself upwards, to level with the boy that could not wipe the sadness off his beautiful face.

"That was not me." Naruto replied, finally avoiding her piercing gaze and eyeing the ground in shame. "That was Ino. Remember her?"

Frustration overcame Y/N, all the names learned over the years that meant absolutely nothing to her and, yet, they felt incredibly familiar and warm: Naruto, Ino, Sasuke, Sakura, Shikamaru, Kakashi, Tsunade, Jiraiya. The list could continue until the sky would clear out and the moon will be finally seen, him throwing these names at her every single time they met as if they meant something.

Am I missing information?

Y/N was well aware of how time seemed to pass by with unfilled gaps in her memory, not knowing how a certain place was reached, how a week flew by without any knowledge of her actions during the time, how bodies would pile up without knowing if it was her bringing them to their demise.

Am I losing my mind? Am I supposed to know all of those people? Am I supposed to know Naruto?

Allowing her heart to ask the mind questions which seemed to have their answers held by Naruto, waves of shocks were short-circuiting again and again her entire, now fragile, being. Eerie whispers with demands lacing their tonality spilled into the reality Y/N was trying so hard to cling herself to. Commanding the kill instilled into a scrambled mind, a harsher voice summoned all the rage such small, yet strong, body could produce, pumping constantly scenes of past fights with the people of Konoha, twisting the beautiful, kind and warm boy that Naruto always seemed to be into a monstrosity that came to claim her heart through the sharp stab of a kunai.

I have to kill him.

With every ounce of force Y/N exerted on herself to not listen to what was dictated, the louder the voice was getting, menacing, laughing into her face for being a weakling. This was the mission of a cursed life.

The bane of my existence: Naruto Uzumaki.

Taking advantage of Naruto's gaze shamefully eyeing the ground drenched in the endless pouring rain, Y/N pushed forward to grab the extended hand, ignoring the wounded calf that could not be felt anymore, numbness enveloping it as all the adrenaline of the attack spilling into the boiling blood pumped through the veins. Fingers latching around his wrist, Y/N pulled, chakra concentrating into the other hand, fist ready to strike, wanting to destabilize him before going for the kill. Naruto simply sighed and quickly shifted, her fist missing him by an inch, body going forward into complete nothingness. With a blinding speed, Naruto turned around the balance of power, twisting her arm upwards and pulling her backwards, back hitting his chest with a quiet gasp. The other hand found Y/N's free one, catching the wrist and applying the necessary pressure until her fingers straightened out in a pain he never wished to inflict on her.

"Stop." Naruto's warm breath brushed against her ear, fingers reaching upwards from the wrist and intertwining with hers. "For once just .. stop."

Why am I shivering?

Y/N was not cold, the rain was as warm as the air, a Summer storm that brewed around two hearts beating in harmony, one not recognizing the other. The familiar closeness she had always felt when in Naruto's presence, calmness of a purity that drove her into madness nights on end, not understanding one bit who this boy was supposed to be to her. With every passing second in which Y/N felt his body pressed to hers, shivers ran along the skin, wanting to know more, to understand better why he has been chasing her around as if his life depended on her. Quiet shift of a body had Y/N feel Naruto's head bowing, forehead colliding on top of her head as a deep, shaky breath left him.

"I know you're in there." Naruto whispered, pain and yearning dancing with the pouring rain, drenching even the deepest part of his hopeful and tired soul. "Remember me, please."

"I-I don't .." Y/N breathed, demeanor caving suddenly, betraying a past life that was hidden under a vicious purpose. "I don't know you."

"You do." Naruto said, holding back the same tears that have been nestled into his heart for far too long, guiding their arms forward until four hands intertwined on her belly, completely enveloped into the warmest hug ever felt. "Better than anyone."

Screams boomed into Y/N's head, surges of pure killer instinct being spilled into her blood, bubbling to the surface, pulling out a vicious smirk as the boy stood there filled with a hope many did not had anymore. Y/N betrayed again the instinct deeply rooted into her gut to not touch a hair on his head, leg swiftly moving backwards in between Naruto's, kicking him right in the shin, a loud groan erupting from the Shinobi. Arms released, she quickly spun around and bent forward, palm pressing against his stomach from which a wave of strong chakra was released. Naruto gasped the moment he felt electroshocks ravaging the insides of his body, pushed forward through the air, back hitting a tree causing a choked cough to come out. He watched in pain, sadness pooling into his eyes as Y/N came towards him, kunai in one hand, rage splitting such gracious and beautiful features in a monstrosity he did not recognize. Naruto knew she used the last of her chakra in this hit, the chances of taking Y/N down being substantial now and yet .. he could not bring himself to take action.

When Y/N disappeared from Konoha, everyone believed she went on to join Sasuke in his endeavors, their weird, dark bond always present since children. Searches have been done, ANBU scouring the land as far as it went and always coming empty handed. Six months later when she reemerged in an Akatsuki cloak, empty eyes with an unrecognizable void, standing by Obito Uchiha and declaring the start of the Fourth Shinobi War, everyone left behind was in shambles. It was for the first time in his life, Naruto turned love into hate, a love so powerful that could turn in nothing else but the disgusting feeling he never wished to acquire.

How could Y/N leave everyone? Leave me for THEM?

The answer never came, chasing her all over, fighting almost to the brink of death, painfully remembering how he deemed Y/N a traitor, something he did not do with Sasuke but was ready to do with her out of pure hurt. Naruto could not remove the image of her bright smile and blushed cheeks whenever he would say the most stupid thing, all of that only so he can see Y/N laugh time and time again. He could not get over how her hand felt in his, walking the streets of Konoha as if nothing else mattered into this accursed world, the first girl to ever hold and feel things only seen at others.

How come the person of my entire being turned her back on the life she always deemed so precious?

Y/N suffered greatly the moment she woke up without a family around. Father in ANBU, killed by Orochimaru. Two younger brothers perishing shortly thereafter - one in Orochimaru's experiments and the other by Kabuto's hand when refusing capture, fighting back for his freedom. Mother taking her own life shortly thereafter.

THE INFINITE TSUKUYOMI IS THE ANSWER! - Y/N screamed to Naruto, her figure menacingly guarding Obito in the war - all she wanted was to be with her family again.

Why does she not remember us? Me?

It took a dying Madara to reveal the answer to Hashirama and the chasing resumed for another two years. Drained, tired, mentally exhausted to be the target before Y/N's eyes, Naruto finally caved against the tree, knowing that her life will peacefully resume once he would die by her hand.

"You're done." Y/N spat, body landing on top of his, straddling Naruto with the kunai held against his throat. "This ends here."

"Can I do something before I die?" Naruto asked, half-smile tugging at his chapped lips.

"A last wish." Y/N chuckled eerily. "Go on."

Naruto's features softened, melancholy pooling into his bright blue eyes, the sadness of his smile gripping at Y/N’s heart with a force she did not recognize as his index finger brushed away a wet hair strand and placed it behind her ear. She shivered leaning in, body reacting on its own at the contact, Y/N's rage fighting a confusion that rattled into the deep ends of her soul. Naruto's arms wrapped around her body, pulling until their bodies flushed against each other completely with the kunai resting in between their necks.

"I love you." Naruto whispered, nose nudging a cold cheek that used to always burn under his intense gaze, now grazed with bruises and an unforgiving pain.

Pangs of pain littered Y/N’s heart, soul humming harmoniously at the sound of such intimate words, small, quiet cracks could be heard inside of her brain as if something started crumbling the moment the boy uttered the sentence. Body trembling, mind in complete disarray as children's laughter resounded again into Y/N's ears, the warmth of foreign tingles pinching her bloodied lips, taste buds tickled by the flavor of a ramen she never had, madness stretching every inch of her being at all of the sensations hitting at once.

"What are you on about, Y/N?" Naruto's voice boomed inside her head. "This is for life."

Jolts pushing Y/N back, staring wide-eyed at the defeated boy before her, wondering if all of those feelings were born out of love, an equally foreign factor she has not encountered in years, since her entire family passed away but could recognize it faintly. Tears streamed down Y/N's face, kunai trembling against Naruto's neck, his eerily peaceful smile bringing her desperation.

Why? Why can't I remember? Why don't I know why he loves me?

The menacing voice was raging inside her mind, commanding to kill him once and for all, that she will be free of duty to live the life she always dreamed of. One Y/N was not capable of remembering. In a twisted way of events, she managed to keep the voice at bay as bright blue entrapped her completely, allowing Naruto's fingers to explore her face, tracing every single curve, stopping for a moment on a dimple inherited from her mother.

"Who am I to you?" Y/N asked, head cocked slightly to the side like a clueless kid staring at the wonders of the world. "Why do you .. love someone like me?"

"Do you truly want to know?" Naruto asked, tears pooling into his eyes as all he wanted was to kiss her back to him.

"P-pl-please .." she whispered, kunai pushing slowly into the skin of his neck. "T-the voice .. I can't .. i-it doesn't stop .."

"It will." Naruto said with a soft smile, noticing Ino walking quietly right behind Y/N with tears streaming down her face seeing her best friend in an unforgiving pain. "I promise."

"Please, Naruto." she sobbed, small droplets of blood trickling from the shallow wound the kunai began inflicting, his name rolling off her lips as it used to having Naruto choke back heavy tears.

"Shinranshin no Jutsu!" was all Y/N heard before blackness engulfed her troubled mind, Ino taking over completely.

6 months later

"Naruto, drop it!" Y/N laughed, dishcloth thrown skillfully as it landed on his head.

"Why do you always have to fight my help?" Naruto asked, pouting while closing the faucet and turning around.

"Because there are only two plates." she sighed, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, arms crossed against the chest. "You did more than enough for me."

"So what?" Naruto rolled his eyes, throwing the dishcloth on the counter. "I chose to."

"Kakashi Sensei chose for you." Y/N replied, watching how he walked up to her, fingers pinching the dimple on her left cheek.

"Oh, God!" he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is Kiba getting in your head again?"

"Wh- .. No!" she said while puffing her cheeks, a faint blush covering them. "I just want you to resume a normal life, not taking care of me when I am perfectly fine."

"Well .." Naruto grinned, bending forward slightly only for her blush to intensify at the closeness. "Then I'll go. I was thinking of seeing a movie and have dinner together but if that is what you wish .."

"NO!" Y/N jumped, hand clasping the material of his shirt, pulling him in even more.

Both froze in their spot, wide-eyes and bright blushes gracing their features, noses almost brushing with such closeness and the air grew thicker, tension bubbling around the two. Muttering a quick and quiet 'sorry', Y/N let the shirt go while taking a step back, hitting the wall that cooled down the hotness enveloping her body.

"I have to meet Sakura." Naruto replied, brushing the entire incident with a face splitting smile. "She has the medicinal tea ready for your headaches."

Nodding slowly, Y/N slipped out of the kitchen as Naruto went for the door, bedroom door slamming behind her. He let out a much needed deep breath and slipped out, heading to meet the person that made her life easier in these past months.

When Ino and Naruto brought Y/N back, she was immediately induced into a coma to break the Jutsu Obito placed on her brain with the sole purpose to hunt and kill Naruto. It took two days of relentless work on such an intricate method of controlling one's mind with everyone waiting breathless outside the doors of a tightly guarded by ANBU location. Screams, tears, agonizing pain shattered Y/N’s entire being as everything that happened in the blackouts she sustained all those years returned - people killed and tortured for information. The downside of regaining her true self? Forgetting parts of the past that no one knew if they would ever come back anytime soon. Including what Naruto had told her two days prior to her disappearance.

When Y/N woke up, Tsunade was beyond herself as she recognized almost everyone. She had a bit of trouble with Shikamaru, Kakashi and Ino - exactly a part of the most important people in her life, the ones that had a deep impact. Missing conversations and events were slowly pieced back together, flashbacks appearing in the most random moments, in her dreams or nightmares. When Naruto saw Y/N for the first time after waking up, she cried as never before, remembering attacking him but not what they talked about and he refused to tell her. She begged and begged but to no avail. Naruto did not wanted to force on her moments and words that did not came naturally, from the bottom of a heart that sustained one of the most darkest strains one could experience.

"After you save the world, you'll forget about me." Y/N said it under the form of a joke but Naruto frowned. "What?"

"That is what you believe?" Naruto questioned, both laying in his bed staring at the ceiling in their free day.

"Yes." Y/N chuckled. "What is a best friend compared to girls swarming you?"

"What are you on about Y/N?" Naruto followed, raising his hand to point in between them with a small smile. "This is for life."

"What are you .." she began asking, words waiting on the tip of her tongue, confused, yet hopeful, gaze meeting his.

"What I said." Naruto replied with a shrug, head turning away and severing the stare that threatened to become intense, hand finding hers on the bed. "We are for life."

The memory dissipated, words of a confession made under the blade of a kunai dancing on the tonality of his mind, as Naruto walked along the streets of Konoha, heart booming with yearning, absorbing every ounce of love he could gather from the past 6 months in which he practically lived with her. Naruto wanted nothing more than for Y/N to remember being in love with him, stupidly not noticing it earlier all those years ago.

**

Y/N paced around the house, from the bedroom to the front door and back again, fingers ruffling through the hair, the small moment in the kitchen playing on repeat into her mind. She has been trying to have a conversation with Naruto for the past two weeks, wanting to find a good moment to tell him the truth. After all the hurt she had inflicted upon him, after being in the dark for so many years, after losing the sight of what was real under a merciless and controlling Jutsu, after all the care Naruto offered for 6 months straight, almost fully moving in to watch over her and that troubled mind that was close to healing completely, Y/N needed to confess, to pull him out of the dark.

In the past half of a year, Y/N worked hard to come to terms that everything that had happened was not her fault, not out of her own desire to strike down all of those poor people, working for a force that was too great for her. Even with remembering everything and absolutely everyone, all the conversations, all the moments she shared with them, there was still something missing. It gnawed at her soul, a small pain swirling around yearning, the familiar feeling of loving someone tugging at the heart, mind refusing to unblock the last piece of the puzzle.

However, two weeks ago when Naruto came late from a two day mission, he walked into the bedroom to check if she was sound asleep, something he did every single night to make sure that there were no nightmares or tears, and that is when Y/N heard it. The pure 'I love you' laced with the same pain she kept feeling when around him 24/7, the words that unlocked the memory of her holding a kunai at his throat, the words that unlocked the memory of an innocent promise before she disappeared. Every single second of every minute of their lives spent together came crashing down as if her entire being waited for those words to be uttered again to feel completely safe before making Y/N whole again.

"I'm home." Naruto announced walking through the door to find her standing in the middle of the hallway, pale as a sheet and gawking at him. "Y/N?! Are you alright?"

She stared at his bright blue eyes, wondering how the hell was she capable of remembering all of it except the most important and deepest thing - being in love with him. Naruto walked around the house for 6 months carrying all the love they had for each other on his shoulders, leaving her to be happy and clueless, waiting for the day in which she will remember. Y/N understood why all the deep stares, the blushing glances and stuttering words were a part of their lives living together. He couldn't stop loving her, not even after almost killing him countless times, not even after she could not remember their feelings, their promise, their bond. Tears began streaming down red cheeks, hands trembling with a powerful emotion she kept hidden for the past two weeks afraid that it might be too much after all was said and done.

"Talk to me." Naruto dropped the bag in which Sakura's tea was tightly packed, rushing to place his hands on her shoulders.

"I love you." Y/N whispered, lips remaining parted, chest heaving with a deep rooted anxiety.

"W-what?" Naruto asked, shock written all over his face as he studied the face he could not forget, not even in death.

"I remembered, Naruto." she continued, searching for the moment in which he would look away at the next words. "T-two w-weeks ago."

"Everything?" he swallowed hard, wanting to make sure that all of it was etched back into her head, not avoiding her gaze for a split second, not caring that she did not tell him right away.

"Everything." Y/N replied with a small nod, hands grabbing at his opened jacket, tugging towards her. "I love you and I am so, so sorry for making you wait this long."

Forehead crashing into Naruto's chest, she let it all out, sobs and gasps between hot tears cleansed the heart and soul of a girl that was mending the cracks in them, all closing one by one with every passing second in which her life became complete. Naruto stood there, one hand resting on top of her head while the other was wrapped around the waist, absorbing all the pain the woman he loved felt in that moment, catching up to lost emotions and feelings that have been forsaken for years.

"I'm sorry." Y/N uttered for the tenth time. "You waited too long."

"Don't." Naruto replied, hand moving from her head and under the chin to push it up slightly, wanting to see all of that love pooling into the eyes that haunted him for years. "It was all worth it and I would not have it any other way."

Pulling back slightly, her hands let go of the jacket and went to cup his whiskered cheeks, a loving smile adorning his lips as Y/N met them without wasting another second. Naruto hummed at the contact, finally being blessed with the touch and feeling he had searched for all of these years. Love and fervor danced with the softness of each other's lips, allowing themselves more space as the second went by, tongues meeting to seal shut a promise made under the innocence of a joke that was bound to turn into a fated future.

"I love you." Y/N whispered against his feverish lips. "I love you."

"Say it again." Naruto said, pulling her upwards, legs circling around his waist tightly, arms wrapping around the shoulders, completely flushed against him in fear of not losing each other again.

"I love you so much." she obeyed willingly, wanting nothing more than to say it for the rest of her life, lips pressing against his and stealing yet another kiss.

"Will you let me be yours?" Naruto asked, heartwarming vulnerability gracing the tonality of his voice as they stood in the middle of the hallway.

"Yes, please." Y/N replied, pushing back the tears threatening to spill again at how their hearts thumped into heaving chests in sync. "Can it be forever?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." he replied, kisses being stolen between words as he carried her towards the bedroom.

"If you are mine .." Y/N whispered, lips peppering small kisses along his jawline. ".. then I want to be yours."

Two beings shattered in the twisted fate of life, not even the greatest of evils capable to withstand the most deepest of bonds, where hearts became one under the spell love binds existence with as one's soul hummed a unique song recognized only in the purest of forms by its fated other.