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suguru-getos · 6 months

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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 27﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Yandere Hawks x F!Reader -> Ruts

Warnings: Dub!con, filthy dirty talk 😭, prone!bone, dóggy!, squirting, nicknames -> Baby bird, love bird, mentions of breed!ng, cumflation, plugging, overstimulation. Yandere tendencies, threats, wings as a source of threat, kidnapping. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: How you latched yourself as Hawks’ little thing after being just an avid fan, now caged and loved (in his own ways) and mated to. <3

You hate the crumbling feeling on your stomach that comes with Keigo's presence, your heart aches, your sanity gets crumpled under his dominant, ruthless gaze that hides oh-so-well behind his suffocating love. Keigo knew the moment he saw you for the first time, sparing your time at a coffee shop in the evening, the same shop he sometimes likes to visit. The coffee there is immaculate, not the 'gutter like' canned coffees he drinks for the hell of it. You were just as enamoured by the rest of the fans, gazing at him, some are nervously asking for his autograph, some of them are asking for selfies. Yet, nothing phases Hawks. It's as if he's made for this. Made to show everyone why he's the Number Two hero. You could almost swear it gave you strength and guts to ask yourself, so you get up from your place, walking towards him with that unhinged confidence, mingled with a hint of nervousness because of just how much you adored him as you urged him for a selfie. Mostly, Hawks takes respectful selfies with women, distancing himself just enough not to look probing, yet close enough to look friendly. Yet, she selfie you clicked with him didn't turn out to look so planned, so thought out. It almost seemed like Hawks wanted the momento you carried to have an imprinting significance.

Then, it was as if fate was responsible for what comes next, or that's something stupid you'd leave your old self to believe. Hawks saved you from harassing villains, taking you home couped up in his lap. Why wouldn't you ask him to come inside, why wouldn't you offer him a drink?

Now you're just a kidnapped nobody, your family thinks you're dead, your friends think you're dead, Keigo made sure of that. You see- he could easily date you, but patience is not something he harbours so perfectly. He could earn your love, by being the doting boyfriend, by being everything you'd ever want.

Then again, he can do that once he has the surety of you being couped up in his house. That's exactly what he did.

"Come on Baby bird, I am trying to be nice." He coos softly, watching you scream and cry and beg, it breaks his heart why don't you understand.

"Maybe I can write my name on your hand?" He holds up his feather blade, it's half threat, half unhinged devotion. "Promise you won't feel a thing!"

"Hey I got you, your absolute favourite food lovebird, come here." He croons, urging you against your will to settle in his lap as he feeds you.

He is tolerant, even tempered, hopelessly funny until you piss him off. You know better than to piss him off after being with him for a few months now. You can't even recognize him when that happens, rageful daunting echoing through the walls as his flowy feathers encircle your body like a threat, Hawks is a threat. You mustn't forget that.

He thinks sex can solve it all, what more than to make love to his mate, to get intimate and make you take his ridged member in your hole over and over until it slides in without your squirms and moans. He can tie you up if you do though, no disturbances please-

You haven't seen the real, gruesome, cruel self of Hawks yet. You will soon, his rut is approaching. The symptoms are clear to him, and weirdly to you as well. He has discussed this several times during the 'aftercare' of you. "You know, there are certain times when.." his thumb rubbing your palm soothingly, "When the avian side of me becomes dominant…" He says it so softly you'd almost feel it's harmless.

Not right now though, when it's actually impending and happening.

"Baby bird, did you fucking put your clothes in laundry?" Keigo yelled from the washroom, the restroom's echo making him sound even more terrific than he usually is. You visibly flinch like a dried leaf, shuddering, "Sorry- Kei I- uhm, sorry they were dirty." You don't know the reason of this outburst, you'd rather not find out.

You give yourself strength to drag your defiant feet towards the rest room, finding him pathetically curled up on the left-over set of your used clothes. He looks almost cute if it weren't for his intentions.

"God I- I want you so fucking bad." He almost whimpers, soon turning into an aggressive growl.

"On the fucking bed, all fours." You shake up at the sudden order, were you being punished for something like this? Keigo's crazy but he's not this- off his clock. "Why? What- what did I do wrong?" You bite your lip, one feeble attempt to want to know what you're up against.

Hawks sighs, his expressive wings faltering as he took two steps towards you, wanting to lessen the distance. You wanted to run so bad, the instinct in you screaming to run, yet the panic in you freezing you up.

"Nothing, pretty girl. Told you I got my rut approaching, didn't I?" Hawks is slightly tender, though from the way he's straining himself to be polite, you know not for long. "On the bed. All. Fours." He gripped your face with a single hand, puckering your lips and leaning in, forcing a painful whimper with the way he kisses you roughly.

"Good girl." He parts away, the string of saliva parting like a thread of fate.

You don't want to make this hard on yourself, so you walk towards the shared master bedroom, it's designed in colours which are neutral, yet suit perfectly to the Hawks palette. As his fan, or ex-fan, rather, you always thought of how his aesthetic would be, and it perfectly matches your imaginations.

To please him a little more, you take off your clothes, arching your back up perfectly to let him see your pre-abused cunt, sitting perfectly down your tightened asshole. You bury your head on the mattress, letting it be cushioned in the fluffy pillows.

An audible hiss escapes Hawks, he can't fucking control the lewd desires that tear him apart when he marvels at your body. "These next few days, would be tough, Angel." Keigo warns, and before your brain could register, or formulate a response, You feel Keigo spitting onto your cunt, the dribble of the liquid making you throb, moistening your walls as his fingers pinched at your clit. A small whimper escapes you when you find your sensitive bundle of nerves under his mercy. "Aw, little slut loves a little pain with it." Keigo snickers under his breath, spanking the fat of your ass hard, one single hit shoving you into the mattress more, though the hold on your clit forbids you to. It feels like a clamp being pulled, you're left with nothing more than a scream as a response.

"Oh good girl, sing for me." Hawks hums, spreading your ass cheeks and watching your now relieved clit twitch, along with your walls. "This pussy begging for me?" He warns, and you nodded as if there's no other answer you can give him.

"Going to fill you up, breed my little mate until she can't take it anymore. Give you so many loads your pussy can't have any other option but to give me a little Keigo, or a little Y/N." He groans to himself, taking his hardened cock out, shoving it deep into your walls, in one swift go. You can cum as many times as you want really, because normally, Keigo's stamina covers up for it, this time- worse. He's rutting like an animal, achy, needy, all for you.

"Then- you know what I'll do?" Hawks breathes out, gritting his teeth as you scream in pain, laced with the perfect amount of pleasure.

"Then, I'll plug this pretty pussy up, none of my cum can escape. Then when I want to, I'd unplug and fill you up again. Little cum jar." He laughs, "My pathetic little cum dump, aren't you?"

Hawks is filthy, absolutely unhinged and filthy with the way dirty talk laced with degradation spouts out from him.

You nodded, hating the way your body betrays you at his words, the way your cunt clamps onto him in a silent affirmation.

"Good (thrust) girl (thrust), gonna (thrust) fill'ya (thrust) up."

Your moans and whimpers echo throughout the shared bedroom, it feels almost sinful, the way his dick kisses your cervix, brushing against your G-spot and making you dance around the waves of pleasure. "So fuckin' tight even though I fuck your pussy up almost err'day." Keigo leans his head back, praising you as he rails onto you, one to two thrusts every second, hands gripping your waist with a bruising grip so you can't possibly run away. "Atta girl" He loves how your moans break into a jerk with the way he's thrusting. Loving the way your petite body tries to clamp up around him, loving the way you try to keep up.

"Aw she's clenching, yeah? Go on, massage my cock and cum. NOW." Keigo commands, an order which would come intertwined with punishments if you don't listen. You croak out, as you orgasm, the constant poking of your G-Spot makes you remember the familiar sensation when you squirted last time, it's so embarrassing, how you gush out at the roughness, and you find yourself doing exactly that. "Aw yes baby, yeah baby," Keigo encouraged, riding out your high as he thrusted his own load, deep into you, still continuing, the same pace, no break.

"Ngh- Ah- please- no. You- I can't." You can feel yourself squeeze down, pathetically so as another orgasm builds to betray your words.

"No no no, where'dya think you're doing Baby bird?" Keigo chuckles, laughing at your feeble attempt to run away, loving how your legs give out.

"Hmm? Want Prone bone? Oof, nasty little song bird." Keigo commented, adjusting your legs, using your tiredness to his advantage as his pelvis slaps your ass with the aggressive way his cock thrusts into you. It's akin to an actual spanking, and you tip off the edge of your delicious orgasm once more. Gritting teeth at the overpowering waves of pleasure. "Gah- can't-"

Your whimpers are paid no heed, another sticky load from Keigo creaming inside you. "That's two, got a lot more in me." Keigo warns, while you feel dizzy at the shaking way your body is being used.

He stops a little though, wanting to give you just a few more minutes before you can start giving him orgasms again, his beautiful little cock massager.

Keigo loves it, how giving you a break makes you slightly reset to be used again.

"Say you love me." He croons, almost sounding like a hurt child, though you know that persona would quickly change.

"I love you." He makes you say it so many times your own definition of the term 'love' is slightly going hazy, not accustomed to your own terms and blurring out with his.

"Gonna make you turn on your back now Little one." Keigo coos, watching you tenderly and moving again.

Oh it was going to be a long night for Hawks' mate. You only hope you'd be able to bear him on you, just as he hopes of you loving him as much as he does.

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starrailstories · 5 months

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Hey! Could you write something about Blade having a keeper of time/ timekeeper s/o? ♥

first ask!!! let's hecking goooooooo

i wanted to write headcanons but then one thing led to another and it's a short story that i hope you enjoy

Blade x gn!Timekeeper!S/O — Seen in the shards

warnings: mentions of blade's depression and suicidal thoughts (canon-compliant), possibly ooc but i really really hope i wrote him well

Blade is destruction incarnate, the mara and rage and grief taking over him sporadically, like bile rising to the throat. He is an effective tool of the Hunters (ironic, isn't it? an abomination like him hardly can Hunt), and many would think that this is all he is, a bounty and a sin and a loosely held leash.

You know him differently, though. You know him in the moments of repose in-between the storm that he brings along, and in those moments, he feels like a large shard of time away from where he'd fit. It's always shards with him, glimpses of past mistakes, and battles, and memories, but mostly sorrow. You think of the ways time cracks as you struggle to keep it whole, revealing the uncomfortable truths you dare not mention to the IPC or the Intelligentsia Guild. It's kind of similar, like if you try just enough, you'll see the complete picture once again.

And he doesn't get you at first, because collecting broken shards and piecing them back is not what Blade does. Blade is all about burning bridges, throwing himself into battle headfirst, Blade does - not - get it when you show concern or worry, when you offer to share a meal, when you tend to a wound of his, when you try and protect him in battle, because he isn't supposed to be together, only apart, shatter and shatter and shatter in hopes that one day, he'll just lie there broken and dead and gone.

You care and that hurts, for some reason, hurts in a way that doesn't sate his urge to be hurt.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

"I almost pity you, Bladie. But envy you all the same," Kafka drops one day as they're sat in a boujee cafe on a planet that will experience a Stellaron catastrophe in about three system hours. She raises her cup of tea to her lips almost immediately, but he catches a hint of a smile.

"Pity, I understand, but I do not welcome it. However, what of the envy?"

Kafka set down her cup gently, in a manner that she would always do, and her smile faded.

"Soon, you would know the meaning of fear. You knew it once, but in a different lifetime. Now, you will know it again, and it will hurt in different ways. It's fascinating."

She spoke with a certainty, as if reciting a script. Possibly that was the case, and that was more sad than anything. Given a power to make anyone listen, but stuck saying words someone else wrote.

"So it will happen?"

"As much as anything said by Destiny's Slave will. There's a seed for fear in that, too. You will resent your wish and your fate, but it still will happen, even if you don't want it to happen anymore."

Right. Blade looks away, because he doesn't usually decipher the grand scheme of things. He was promised a death and a settling of the score, and he is content with that, content in the way a sword is content to rest in its sheath. Kafka reaches across the table to touch his forehead as if to impart a wisdom.

She'd point a gun to his head and he'd be just as apathetic.

"Listen. I am telling you this for your sake, after all."

There's no command behind the word, and Blade regrets this, because thinking he dislikes most of all.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Fear is a foreign concept, but the more you reach out to him with your care, the more he starts to grasp it. He knows of your strength, he knows of your capabilities, he sees you constantly fixing time itself, reaching into the molten metal with hands exposed and heart bare, to stitch all together before the past pours into the present and the future into the past and a sea of fake stars replaces the cosmos you traverse (you told him once of a world inside an egg one time, where the sky is fake and the up is down and why does he remember these trivial things again).

But he also knows of his own strength, and how all that he touches goes awry, and that is scary — to see you reach out when he knows full well how your care might destroy you, how he might destroy you.

"You shouldn't be picking up the shards. They'd cut you," he says one time after another crack is restored and the anomaly of the Fragmentum shifts into a stable state. His sword drags on the ground, leaving a distinctly red trace. You know he isn't speaking about the timeline.

"Those are big words coming from someone carrying a sword made of shards," you smile like you always do and it hurts. Because it hurts to be cared for and treated like a person and where were you those centuries ago when dying still felt memorable and there was something besides the anger?

He wishes he fell into a timeline anomaly back then because that would mean even for a moment, being caught by you, and that is a scary thought.

"Blade?" he's zoning out. Bad. He is supposed to keep himself in check, because most people are capable of dying and he is a remarkably well-working death machine.

"I will say this more clearly: if you keep reaching out to me, you will die."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

You don't stop because... actually why. Blade still doesn't get it. Blade doesn't speak up anymore, a sword in its sheath, but he thinks sometimes. Thinking is still a horrible pastime activity. But he does wonder about what it would have felt like to have met you earlier, when there was some feeling left in him.

He wonders if you bandaging a wound of his would make him feel safe. He wonders if the snacks you buy on the planets you visit would make him feel sated. He wonders if after a long day, sleeping next to each other would make him feel truly content.

Dangerous thoughts, yet strangely warm, like candlelight.

You plop on the bed of a dingy hotel room you two are staying at. Blade cares little about the quality of the establishment, but he does care about security, and keeping on the down low is of the essence. He stores his sword next to his side of the bed, to draw if a fight occurs.

He doesn't sleep anyway, simply lies in a dreamless haze, so nothing would catch him off-guard.

"Room's tiny. Bed's hard as a rock, too," you make small talk, untying the laces of your boots.

"Mhm," Blade hums. He thinks that there were free rooms in the hotel. With two beds in each, no less. He doesn't bring this up because it's safer to stay close together and that's the only reason.

"And it's cold."

"Mhm," he hums again. He doesn't feel much in terms of warmth or coldness.

You lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he checks for emergency exit pathways and makes notes of useful items.

"Sometimes I wish there were no anomalies or Stellarons out there. Then we wouldn't have large bounties on our heads and we'd be able to afford all the good hotels."

"We wouldn't have met then. And this room is sufficient."

Blade says sufficient, but for the last while, he found sufficient lacking. He wanted good things, despite being undeserving, and it hurt, too, because he knew all too well what happened to the good things in his life.

He lies down next to you, six inches, seven hundred years and a universe apart.

"Would we? I'd still have found you, I feel like."

It feels weird to hear this. He remembers how you once got hurt because you tried to block a hit meant for him. It was a long time ago, before that could hurt. It wasn't anything serious, but now, guilt eats at him each time he notices the faint scar on your shoulder. He drifts his gaze left, and there it is, a reminder.

And he also sees that you're cold.

What comes next is a whim and Blade never acts on whims. But he turns on the bed and drags you into an embrace.

"You wouldn't have liked what you've found."

Because then he'd be a mara-struck abomination, immortal mess of ginkgo leaves and dripping bile and the same names roared so much that no one would hear what he says. He still is like that, just somewhat grounded.

"You always decide for me. But isn't it up to me to weigh my choices, Blade?"

No, he wants to say, it's not. He's been mortal and stupid before, and that was his mistake. For that, he must pay a price. He doesn't want you to be hurt that way because you, unlike him, don't deserve this.

But he says none of it, as you raise your hand and touch his cheek and it's warm and it hurts—

His voice breaks, in both anger and fear, "I don't want you fixing me. I know you want to pick up the shards and glue them together. But you will regret that wish."

He isn't Yingxing and he won't be Yingxing ever again. What was him died on the Xianzhou Luofu, and it died again and again and again until what was left couldn't recall the deaths any longer. Then, a mess of shards, an empty husk, he was Blade, and he couldn't ever go back.

You smile gently at him.

"I know. If you ever decide to piece the shards together, it should be your choice and not mine, and I have no deal interfering with that. But still, I want to see all of you, Blade. Broken or not."

It's scary because admitting that he wants you to see him too would mean accepting that it won't change a thing. The script is merciless and uncaring. Even if he allows himself to love you, he is already destined to die as part of the performance. It's scary because it changes everything. It's scary because it changes nothing.

He shifts on the bed, so that you're face to face.

"May I kiss you?"

You close the distance first, as you always do, and he, for the first time in seven hundred years, feels seen.

#blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #honkai star rail #honkai x reader #blade hsr #blade honkai #hsr #yingxing

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murfeelee · 3 months

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BG3 INSP: Long Rest, and the Guardian

Dream Visitor: I came just in time! You are transforming. Ryuu: ?!?! Dream Visitor: Yes, I have saved you before.... [Flashback Montage of Nautiloid Crash] Dream Visitor: Don't worry, you'll not become a Mind Flayer--not while I'm around. I'll protect you. Ryuu: *takes her hand* Dream Visitor: We haven't much time so listen closely: There is great potential within you. It comes from that parasite. Your instinct is to resist the power it gives, but you must accept it; nurture it. I will keep it from consuming you, but for the sake of both of us, you must learn to wield it. Dream Visitor: The fight for the fate of Faerun is a fight we are losing--for now. You can change that, but only if you embrace your potential. [Explosions] Dream Visitor: I have to go! The enemy is close. I will be back! You'll feel better soon; I promise....

-- Baldur's Gate 3

MY THOUGHTS & CC CREDITS

MY THOUGHTS

Aaaaand that's the last of the BG3 inspired gameplay posts I was able to get through over my winter break!

I haven't even finished BG3, so I have no idea what's the real deal with the Guardian--they were infected just like Tav & the rest of the party, but how TF are they in the Astral Plane/Prism? I doubt they're a god--are they dead? I already know about Withers & Bhaal, but are there others like them running around or something?

NO ONE TELL ME ANYTHING; I'm just thinking out loud.

In my Neutral Good playthrough with Nagron I haven't consumed a single tadpole, cuz I don't trust ANYTHING Illithid, and the Guardian being all pushy and telling me to eat them is SUS.

But in my Dark Urge's Chaotic Evil playthrough Ryuu's nomming on down, yum yum!

CC CREDITS (WIP)

- Sakura's hair, glow eyes at MTS, flower acc at TSR, TSM armor

- Ryuu's sleepwear from Dragon Valley & the Store

- Fog Emitter effects: (I'll add them later, I'm running late for class, LOL)

#sims 3 baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #sims 3 sakura avatar gameplay #sims 3 gameplay #dungeons and dragons

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dsireland86 · 4 months

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There is Beauty in the Pain

CHAPTER 5 PT.2

WARNINGS: sexual content, language

Summary: Noah and Sophie find each other in the most unprecedented circumstances. Whether it's the Universe, fate, destiny, or pure luck, they can't deny that their souls were simply meant to be

***if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know :)***

@lma1986 @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @thatamazingvampirestory

--Link to chapter 5 pt. 3 at the bottom--

Noah:

"Noah, you don't have to come up," Sophie assured me, closing the car door. I came around from the driver's side, not giving her plea a second thought.

"And I heard you, but I'm not letting you go back up there alone. Besides, you heard Jolly; I'm meant to get you here and back to the house safely."

Sophie scowled at me. She looked adorable when she tried to be serious.

"Yeah, I heard him. Does he always try to be so authoritative?"

"Only when it comes to something he's passionate about," I answered, standing in front of her as she leaned back against the car.

Sophie was stalling. I could tell she didn't want to go up to her apartment and I didn't blame her. There was no telling what we would find up there.

Lowering her head, eyes pointed directly at the ground, she struggled with the tears that threatened to fall, trying to be brave. Even though she'd proven herself to be strong in many ways, there was a softness that seemed to follow her around making me think that it must have taken a lot of violence from the man she trusted for her to become such a gentle person; a lot of hurt and pain.

"Hey, don't cry, come here," I urged her, taking her hand and bringing her into me. I turned us around until I was the one leaning against the car with her in my arms.

Sophie buried her face into my chest, a gesture I was becoming aware of each time I held her and one that I was happily getting used to. Sliding my arms around her waist and tugging her body closer to me, Sophie breathed in deeply and allowed her body to relax. I loved the way she felt against me; tightly wrapped up in my arms where I could claim her as mine just for a brief moment.

Mine? That word had been dancing in my head the last few days and even though I'd just met her, I was already staking my claim on her. It was wrong of me. But why did it feel so right?

I could tell by the way she'd ignored me all morning that something wasn't right. Sophie was trying to distance herself from me; from my world and maybe it was easier that way and would make the goodbye easier. But was there going to be a goodbye soon? Would it be safe for us to play this game of attraction and affection off and on and mess with each other's emotions? I knew the answer and I knew who would end up getting hurt the most in the end, but it was a gamble I was willing to take. But was she?

Sophie pressed her body closer to me, constricting the space between us and locking herself up tighter in my arms. I was positive she could feel my growing hardness against her thigh. Fighting my body's reaction to her and the natural urge for more friction was becoming difficult. Then when I felt her thigh press lightly against my erection, sending the sensitive sensation right up into my chest, I released a deep, sudden growl and shifted against the car. Yet she didn't pull away. She stayed locked in my arms, body tight against me, and the idea of me and her being together planted itself in the middle of my thoughts, rooting itself there permanently.

I took a deep breath and lowered my chin to rest on her head. I was fighting hard against the urge to kiss and taste her skin, to lift her face and plant desperate, starving kisses over her lips. Sophie gripped my shirt tighter in her small fists letting on that she was feeling something between us too. God, she was making this "staying friends for now and giving her space" bullshit fucking difficult. If I was the jerk I thought I was in my head, I would've slammed her down on the hood of the car and taken...

"Noah, are you okay?"

Sophie's soft voice pulled me from my thoughts. I took in the sight of her beautiful face, thankful a lot of the bruising was gone, and realized that there was no fucking way I could ever give in to my feral, dominant sexual hunger with her; she was deserving of so much more. Sophie deserved heaven. She deserved infinite tenderness, love, and protection because when you love someone, you do everything in your power to protect them from the pain; you never become the cause of it.

"I'm good," I lied, stroking her cheek with my knuckle.

I could easily allow myself to fall in love with Sophie. Maybe I already had; if not I was getting there. She made me feel fearless when it came to the thought of loving a woman again. But I had to keep the distance between us just like she was doing; for now anyway.

"I know you're lying to me, and that's okay," she said, releasing me and taking a step back. Her smile was subtle.

"I'm not. I really am okay. What could possibly be wrong, being here with you?"

A red hue spread rapidly over her cheeks and I chuckled as she brought her hands up to her face, laying them on skin.

"Well, I guess I'd better head up there," she stated through a shy giggle.

I stayed where I was with my back still up against the car, watching Sophie walk away in shock that I was letting her do so. But my heart started racing the instant she turned around and smiled at me.

"You coming or what?"

Oh, you have no idea how much I want to come, baby. Just for you.

I ran to catch up with her, thankful she couldn't read my thoughts.

Sophie:

This was a horrible fucking idea, and I couldn't believe I talked myself into doing this. The fear I was feeling was so strong that I had to stop halfway up the stairs, breathing heavily so that the panic attack and nausea wouldn't make me pass out. Thankfully, it was just a small attack, but horrible nonetheless. Noah was my saving grace. He was kind and gentle to me, never making me feel stupid or wrong for feeling what I was feeling, and he sat with me, soothing my back with comforting circles that brought instant relief. He stayed with me, never leaving my side. This moment with Noah, no matter the circumstances, was something I'd longed for in a man. I only ever wanted softness, love, and tenderness around me because of the way the world and life had left me feeling so fragile. Noah brought each one of those to the table we were slowly putting together, and for the first time ever in my life I felt whole, even though he wasn't mine. I begged the universe to change my heart and no longer think about leaving the beautiful world I'd found in Noah, Jolly, Nick, and Folio because the way they made me feel was almost like they were a family I never had.

CHAPTER 5 PT.3

#noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens band #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #bad omens cult #fanfic

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animatorweirdo · 22 days

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When the Dragons Fly(book 2)

You and most of the villagers survived the night. You take temporal refuge in the destroyed town and try to convince the other chiefs to take a safe route to ensure your and other people's safety. Aelon looks after Eweniel and mourns the fate of one of his friends.

[] = High Valyrian

Chapter 18

Warnings: mentions of orc attacks, dead people, someone getting poisoned, trying to convince stubborn people, possible dying characters, Aelon feeling a bit depressed, getting ambushed, and getting trapped.

(Note: Just wanted to say this is the second last chapter of this series. Hope you are prepared for the last one)

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

The aftermath of the attack took a heavy toll on you and those who survived. The attack did not come as a surprise to you since you expected it to happen, so you were perhaps the only one who was least bothered by the attack. However, you did wish you had succeeded in urging the people to leave early so you wouldn’t have suffered the loss of your home and the death of your friends and neighbors. The hopeless delaying and the false sense of security ended up being the things that brought your dream to reality.

Luckily, most villagers were at the edge of the village when the attack happened, so you managed to save most who died in your dream. Helena, Mika, their mother, Eda, Dwenn, and most of Aelon’s friends, but unfortunately, you did not manage to save Eweniel’s parents from the fate of being burned alive in their house. To think she had to suffer the pain of losing her family at such a young age.

There was also Samuel, who had gotten shot with an orcish arrow during the attack, inducing him into a sickened coma.

One positive outcome of the attack was that the chief and the people began to take your words more seriously. You assumed temporary control over the remaining Watchmen and warriors, positioning them at the rear to defend the villagers as you all made your way to the nearby town.

You had hoped you could either seek refuge or warn them of the orcs, but unfortunately, Morgoth’s onslaught reached far, and even the town was not spared from the attacks.

Homes were burned to the ground, leaving nothing but scorched ruins. Dead bodies were gathered on the sides of the streets, carried by those who survived the pillaging. The sight was devastating, but since there were no orcs, you took the chance to rest and regain some supplies for the next journey.

You took it upon yourself to meet with the other villages’ chiefs who had also come to the town and urge them to leave as soon as possible, to leave north and seek safety from the southern lands.

"I propose that we gather all the supplies we have and swiftly make our way through the mountains. There is an old abandoned fortress that could provide us with cover for the night. From there, we can reach Himlad and continue southward." you explained while pointing through the map. “It’s one of the less-known roads, which can give us cover and lose any possible pursuers,” you added. “It also has a good defensive point if there is a need for combat,”

“Why should we go there? Why don’t we go to the eastern pass and seek refuge from the elves of Himring?” questioned one of the chiefs, Horren, an older seasoned warrior with a scar over his eye.

“There’s no one there. The Noldor of Himring have suffered such losses that they no longer have enough people to man it. They have decided to abandon it and retreat to the south,” explained another chief, Baelen, a much younger man than Horren, but more experienced than most.

"Not to mention, going through Himring leaves us open to attacks. We don't know if Morgoth has left forces there to ensure no one can get in or out. It’s too obvious of a trap," you explained. "Through the mountains, we have at least some protection from potential attacks," you added.

"Lady (Name) makes a good point. Perhaps we could pass through the pass of Aglond. It's the closest route to us and offers a clear path southward to Himlad," Deanna, the wife of a passed-away chief, said while cradling her newborn in her arms.

“Possibly, but I think it is too obvious of an escape route. It is a well-known road, and Morgoth could have already set orcs there for an ambush,” you said.

“And how can you be sure the orcs are already there?” someone else questioned.

“Because these creatures do not rest at night, and when there’s an opportunity to ambush a large group of refugees. I think they would be more than happy to prepare for that and send new thralls to the dark lord,” you explained.

“Going through less known roads can give us a chance to pass through without notice,” you added.

“If we go there now. We could get there first,” one of the other chiefs suggested.

“I do not think that’s wise,” you answered. “I think it’s better to be cautious than fall into obvious traps,”

“I think you are being overly cautious. It’s better to take the opportunity than allow paranoia to control our judgment,” Horren said.

You frowned at his response. “My people called me paranoid because I urged them to prepare and flee from a possible attack, but then we were attacked. I don’t think I’m being paranoid about this,” you answered.

“Should we not prioritize our safety first than take risks that could possibly get us killed?” you questioned and Chief Horren looked like he wanted to snap at you.

Your village chief then stepped in, calming you down.

"(Name), I don't doubt your understanding of our predicament, but if we prepare to leave now, there's a chance we could flee before the orcs have a chance to set an ambush," he spoke. "And if we encounter complications, we could then use the mountain road you mentioned," he added.

“Chief. With all due respect. I think going for the pass of Aglong is too big of a risk!” you protested.

“Enough! You've shared your idea, and I think we should go for the pass of Aglond. It's the quickest route we can take, or does anyone else have a better idea?" Chief Horren looked around the room, but most of the chiefs looked away and said nothing. "If not, I vote that we go there as soon as possible. Are we in agreement?" he asked, and the other chiefs nodded quietly while some remained silent.

"I guess that's decided then. We will leave before sundown," Horren stated, looking at you as no one said anything. You frowned, frustrated as the meeting came to an end.

As people waited in line for the cooks to pour their bowls with soup, when Aelon's turn came, the cook filled both the bowls he held. He then walked over to Eweniel, who was seated on a bench, covered with a blanket and wearing a dull expression.

Aelon sat beside her and handed her one of the bowls.

"Here, try to eat something," he said as she grabbed the bowl and the spoon. "Thanks..." she uttered quietly while beginning to eat slowly.

Aelon stared at her worriedly. Eweniel had been quiet since the attack. Seeing her parents die in the burning house had taken a toll on her, and it made the feeling for him ten times worse. Never had he seen his best friend so quiet and hollow in all his life, and he didn't know how to help her. All he knew was to make sure she ate at least.

The two then noticed Rodrick as he approached them with a sullen look.

"Rodrick. How is Samuel doing?" Aelon asked.

Rodrick released a heavy sigh. "Eda is looking after him, but he doesn't look good. He looks like he's having a hard time to breath, and his mom is not doing well either,” he explained. "I heard her crying and I think I heard them mention that... the arrow might be poisoned," he revealed.

Eweniel inhaled, her shoulders slumped as she tried to avoid crying from the news. Aelon held on to her, so she wouldn't fall while trying to avoid crying himself. Seeing one of his best friends lose their parents was hard, but now losing one of his best friends to death was too much. Why Samuel getting shot in his dreams have to come true?

Aelon then saw you walking toward them.

"(Name)" he started. "Rodrick said that the arrow that hit Samuel could have been poisoned. Is that true?" he asked, nearly pleading it wasn't true.

You looked at him sympathetically.

"I went to see Eda after the meeting to see how Samuel was doing. I'm afraid that it's true," you answered.

Eweniel started quietly sobbing.

"But..." you said. "He could survive if we pass through the mountains in time, then we could seek help from the elves. They have medicines that could cure him from the poison in his veins,” you explained.

“It just means we have to pray that we can pass through the mountains without getting attacked,” you said.

Aelon thought to himself before setting down his bowl.

“I will be back,” he said to Eweniel before looking at you.

“(Name), can we talk privately,” Aelon asked. You nodded and motioned him to lead.

You two arrived at a small corner of a destroyed house. Aelon looked around then started speaking to you in your mother tongue.

“[(Name)... Can I take Falconer and Samuel and fly to seek the help he needs?]” he asked.

“[Aelon… if we do that. We would have to risk revealing Falconer to Samuel’s parents. They are now more protective of him than ever. There’s no guarantee they would even agree to hear you out before alerting everyone to kill Falconer]” you explained softly.

“[But maybe with you telling them. They would agree…]” Aelon said.

“[I do not think in this state they would agree to anything I said. Also, Samuel needs constant attention. There is a chance he won’t survive the night if someone is not there to watch him]” you replied.

“[And the only place you could reveal yourself and Falconer is an elven city by the sea which is a three-day journey. Samuel won’t have enough time for that]” you added.

“[What about the Noldor, or the Sindar elves?]” Aelon questioned.

“[The Noldor will kill you on sight if they saw you, and there’s is a chance the Sindar elves will only remain hidden. And I do not think even Nelyo would agree after the defeat he suffered,]” you explained.

“[I’m sorry, Aelon. But using our dragons would only lead us to bigger risks,]” you said.

Aelon remained quiet.

You laid your hand on his shoulder, making him look up to you.

“Believe me. I would have allowed it if we didn’t have such low chances, but sometimes we have to take the harder path. And Samuel is already in a critical condition. I do not wish for you to bear such sorrow, but there is a chance that he might not even survive this walk. I just wish for you to prepare for that,” you explained.

“The only thing we can do is hope for a miracle, or that things turn out for the better,” you said.

“Do you understand?” you asked. Aelon quietly nodded.

“We will be leaving soon. Try to look after Eweniel and hope that Eru will be merciful to all of us,” you turned to leave.

“I have to get the Watchmen in order. Eat while you still can and stay with Helena and Dwenn,” you said then left.

Aelon stood there motionlessly for a while, releasing a few tears as he despaired over the situation and felt the weight of hopelessness settle upon him.

The journey began unpleasantly, with some people still tired and hungry, but everyone pushed through, eager to get away from the dangers of the north.

Aelon was on Dwenn’s wagon with Eweniel. Helena and Mika were sitting on the opposite side with their mother and Samuel was lying on the wagon’s floor with Eda taking care of him. Ramuel was beside them.

You were in the back, prepared to meet possible attackers from the back.

Aelon looked toward the mountains, where he could sense his dragon following. Falconer and Baleria had been following in a safe distance. It gave at least some comfort. He hoped Aegar, Viserya, and Smoke were doing alright as well.

Dwenn seemed to have sensed his distant staring.

“Everything will be alright, my boy. Once we’re out of these mountains, we’ll be safe and Samuel will get the help he needs,” Dwenn said.

“I hope so… he doesn’t look so good,” Aelon glanced down at his sick friend.

A loud horn was suddenly heard, making the people stop in confusion.

You turned around to see a large army of orcs marching toward you.

“It’s an ambush,” you took out your sword with the other men.

The people panicked and began screaming, running away from the sight of orcs. Dwenn snapped the reins and made the horses run. Aelon looked back toward you as you stayed behind with the men.

“All shields on the front! Archers on the hill! Do not let them pass!” you ordered. Those from your village did not hesitate, while the other men hesitated.

“Do as she says!” Chief Baelen who travelled with you yelled toward his men.

You all then prepared and faced the enemy. You slashed down the first orc that tried to attack you.

Aelon looked back towards you, feeling worried until he couldn’t see you anymore. He nearly fell off when the wagon came to a sudden stop. Eweniel managed to grab him before he could fall and pulled him back to the wagon. Dwenn calmed down his startled horses.

“Wow! Easy!” Dwenn yelled as his horses whined and reared on their feet.

“Dwenn! Why did we stop?!” Eda snapped at him. Aelon and everyone on the wagon then saw what was in front of them and why everyone came to a stop.

There was an old abandoned fort in front of them. A wall crossed through the pass, and although the gate had crumbled, that wasn't what caught Aelon's attention. It was the large wall of boulders and rocks that blocked the gate entrance, so massive it seemed impossible to get through or climb over.

Aelon’s eyes widened as the people began to despair. You were right once more. The path had been completely blocked, trapping them between the rocks and the enemy you were fighting back. It was a trap.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn @kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain @maedhrosiseverything2me

#silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #tolkien #silm fic #middle earth x reader #when the dragons fly #hotd x reader #hotd #middle earth #silmarillion imagines #various x reader #targaryen reader #silmarillion x targaryen reader #maedhros x reader

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little-peril-stories · 7 months

Text

Whumptober 2023, Day 3 & 4: Solitary confinement, shock

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Read at your own risk! They're only snippets of a larger story, with no resolution that will be posted online anytime soon; they are being posted out of order; and the characters don't have names. Enjoy!

Contents: blood (barely), guilt, arrested, fear, angst (a lot—what else is new?)

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Word count: 600 || Approx reading time: 3 mins

Solitary Confinement

Teaser: There was no running, not for him. Not anymore.

"They'll kill me if I'm lucky / They'll torture me if not"

All the scholar could hear was his own rapid, fraying breath.

The panicked rasping.

The frantic gasp of each intake of air as he tried desperately to regain his senses.

Dead. He’s dead.

They’d thrown him inside, heedless of how his sight failed him and his feet stumbled and scrabbled beneath him. Now he lay motionless, tasting blood, pretending that this was all part of his plan. He didn’t move from where he’d fallen.

He’s dead, and I killed him.

He couldn’t move. He barely wanted to. The deed was done; the choice was made.

I’ll distract him, he’d promised.

He’d known what he was sacrificing when he walked into their midst.

Now. Run. Please.

There was no running, not for him. Not anymore.

The room was quiet, but it was distinctly unlike the soothing peace of the library where he had spent so many hours of his life. This—this was an ominous quiet, heavy with dread, slippery with promise. The promise—and memory—of death.

Leave him in there, they’d said, until the prince arrives.

The thud of a body striking rough stone rang in his ears. It was only once he was already prone—still reeling from the impact—that the scholar realized it had been his own weary, grief-stricken bones and his own torn skin scraping against the floor.

Let the prince decide what to do with the bastard.

The scholar’s wrists stung, unused to anything harsher than the silk of his shirtsleeves. He wore metal bands now, heavy and pinching and dark, suppressing what little magic he possessed—the only weapon, truly, he had to wield. Snuffed out, as much a prisoner as he.

Magic he’d used to kill a man.

Dead. The word repeated in his mind. The commander was dead, and soon, the scholar would be, too.

Quiet.

So quiet.

Too quiet.

He loved such stillness, usually—relished it. Most of the time, it meant solitude. Solace. The tender whispers of turning pages, muffled footsteps, and contented sighs.

Today, it meant something else:

Death.

He hadn’t meant to.

But he had.

I chose this.

He’d chosen her.

Soon the prince would arrive to decide his fate. He would know what his old tutor had done. He would pass judgment and, in all likelihood, sentence him to death.

I didn’t mean to.

The scholar had written the end of his own story, or rather, he had tried. He could never have imagined that this was where his life would lead him—to an empty, airless holding room, mere corridors from the dungeon cells that would no doubt become his tomb. And what for?

I did it for her.

If he closed his eyes, he could feel the ghost of her hands in his.

Don’t get hurt, she’d said. A promise he’d known—even as he agreed—he could not keep. He wondered what she would say if she could see him now. If she—more full of fight than he had ever been—would rage and rail to see him prostrate and shaking. Or if, instead, she would merely weep.

Get up, she would urge. Please.

The barest sliver of him wished his cruel, craven mind—soaked with pain and fear and shock and terror—would let him be, that his conscience would simply rest. He almost—almost—wished her voice would just stop.

But if it did, he would be left with the emptiness and silence of the room, and in a sea of fear and foreboding, he would drown.

If it did, the scholar knew, he would never again hear her voice, out loud or in his head, so when death came for him, he would be nothing more than a wretched husk of a man, despised and heartbroken and alone.

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#whumptober2023 #no.3 #no.4 #solitary confinement #shock #oc #original content #fic #arrest tw #murder tw #guilt tw #blood tw #arrested #fear #angst #death mention #lps man of letters

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mxacegrey · 2 years

Text

The Masked Part 8

Fandom: Fate the Winx Saga

Pairings: Sky x reader, Riven x reader, Saul Silva x reader (All platonic)

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 FATE THE WINX SAGA UNDER THE CUT!! Descriptions of violence. swearing, references to trauma and major character death.

Word Count: 2.1K

Series Masterlist

The group of 5 split up, you heading outside to face the scrappers head on while the rest headed for the tunnels were their individual teams were waiting. You stood outside, dual swords in your hands and tilted your head towards the scrappers you heard chittering towards you. As they passed the corner, you stood on the opposite side of the corridor, simply glaring at them. For a moment, they simply looked at you before each scuttled towards you, you cutting them left to right. Few had bitten you and with the little fairy magic within them, you gained some powers like that of mind and fire magic.

On each side of the school, the other squad leaders began ordering the fairies, specialists and blood witches. Specialists and Blood witches were leading, the blood witches manoeuvring the controlled specialist out of the way, knocking them unconscious while the specialist stabbed and fought their way into the school. The fairies stood slightly behind, the mind fairies helping their specialists against the blood witches while the others worked together to destroy as many scrappers that they came across.

Cathán was stood outside with his team when Silva and his specialists returned to Alfea. They had gone around the school but were outnumbered and retreated.

“Right. Listen up. The Blood Witches were waiting for us, so we've had to fall back. We're gonna stay here and regroup until the Solarians come.” He heard Silva command.

“But Musa's still in there. So's Flora.” Riven protested.

“Yeah, he's right, we should go now...” Sky agreed with Riven.

“It's not up for debate, okay? So let's keep busy until then. Move out.” Silva replied, when Cathán spoke up.

“If there is any fairy still in there, with magic or not, they’ll be getting out soon.”

“Cathán? What are you doing here?” Silva asked, confused. “The Solarians aren’t here yet.”

“I’m not here with the Solarians. Or Valtor.” Cathán clarified as Silva held a sword to his neck. “My superior assigned 8 separate teams to infiltrate Alfea.”

Meanwhile, Flora sat in the cold basement, surrounded by the bloodied bodies of other fairies attacked by scrappers.

“They haven't taken anyone in a while. Maybe it's over.” One of the fire fairies said, shaking his leg as he sat next to Flora.

“It's not. Just sit tight.” Flora replied tensely.

“And wait to get plucked out like lobsters?” He snarked.

“I'm not dying to be food either. We can't afford to do anything stupid. My friends will come.” Flora glared at him.

“I'm going.” He said, standing up.

“Just don't use your magic. I think scrapers can sense...”

“Yeah, I've got it, but thanks.” The fairy stated, as he lit his hand up. “See? There's nothing.”

“Nick. Nick, come back into the light. Nick, don't be an idiot!” Flora urged him to return when she heard Nick scream. Footsteps entered the basement where the fairies were caught and Fallon walked in, his team spreading out.

“Amber, Jace, Cameron. Get the worst out the tunnel, we have medical not too far from here.” Fallon ordered, the ones in question nodded as their team blood witches checked over the bodies, assigning medical priority. Fallon then noticed Flora from the descriptions Virgil and Adara had given of the Winx suite and walked up to her. “Flora, right?”

“Yeah?” Flora asked, confused. Fallon reached a hand before pulling her up. “Do you know what Bloom and the others are planning?”

“...No.” Flora replied after a short pause that did not go unnoticed.

“Flora. This is not a game. This is war and people’s lives are at stake. It is much higher stakes than you realise.” Fallon scolded. “So tell me what you know.”

Flora soon broke under Fallon’s harsh gaze, telling him Bloom’s plans. With a solemn nod, Fallon called you to give you a heads-up. You answered, panting softly, your swords dripping with blood and blood spatter all over you. You nodded, thanking Fallon for the information before you headed for the hall where Sebastian and Bloom were standing, Sky trapped in vines from the balcony.

“Course not. But I wonder if they'd make the same effort if they knew how relieved you are to be giving it up.” You heard from the corridor as you walked towards them.

“You think if I had a choice, I wouldn't...” Bloom scoffed, but you hear her heart wasn’t really in it.

“Don't be ashamed, Bloom. You're a teenager. You should be allowed to be a teenager. Spend time with your friends. With your boyfriend. I know what it's like to miss out on all of that because you're dealing with shit that's bigger than you. Nobody gets to have a normal life when the Dragon Flame is involved, and a normal life is all your mum ever wanted for you.” Sebastian stated.

“Are you taunting me? You won. You're getting everything you wanted...” Bloom asked, offended. You walked inside, going unnoticed. You watched the interaction before you with a clenched jaw.

“I didn't mean to taunt. I didn't.” Sebastian backtracked slightly.

“So then tell me. Tell me about my mom, where I came from.” Bloom urged Sebastian.

“Stalling for time, is it?” Sebastian asked.

“You can read my thoughts. You really think I don't wanna know?” Bloom asked rhetorically. Sebastian began to open his mouth in response before the sound of a slow clap echoed through the hall.

“Well done, Bloom.” You spoke out, sarcasm dripping. “You have no idea what you’ve done. You started a fucking war!”

“Y/N?” Bloom asked, looking at you. Sebastian speaking over her,

“Little cousin?”

“You’re Sebastian’s cousin. You’re a blood witch. You’re on his side.” Bloom gasped as she remembered what happened in ‘First World Goods’.

“2 out of the 3 is not bad.” You replied coldly, before spinning around and slicing the vines that held Sky. Sky began to fall to the ground, Bloom screaming out. Vines suddenly slowed his fall, allowing him to hit the floor gently.

“Sky! Sky!” Bloom called out, tapping his face. His eyes opened slowly, seeing the face of Bloom before asking,

“Y/N?” You didn’t reply, only waving a hand out, vines growing from the wall and holding Bloom and Sebastian both back.

“What are you doing?” They both yelled out in shock.

“You have no idea of the magnitude of what you have done. Either of you!” You yelled, eyes blazing. “There are children out there! Children who would have had to fight because you are both so fucking pathetic!”

“Hey! I am not pathetic!” Bloom shouted, Sebastian simply looking at you.

“You, Bloom Peters. Willing to give up everything for one piece of information about your biological mother! You have fucking parents! Parents that love you and now you want more!” You spat.

“She’s my mother!” Bloom insisted, trying to make you understand.

“You already fucking have one!” You exclaimed, holding your bloody sword at her neck.

“You know what? You’re a fucking traitor! There’s no point in trying..” Bloom scoffed, the sword at her neck now touching her throat.

“Shut. Up!” You yelled through gritted teeth. “Blood witches don’t always have a choice you know. And fairies are just as fucking bad! Clearly none of you care about the consequences of your actions!”

“What do you care?”

“I care because there are children involved. Innocent children.” You stated, now moving away from Bloom. You noticed Bloom about to smirk and quickly burst her bubble. “You’re not a child, Bloom. Hold yourself accountable! You killed Rosalind Hale.”

“It was self-defence.”

“No. Self-defence would be burning her slightly. Self-defence is not burning her to a fucking crisp and saying ‘I lost control’ after you were told, repeatedly, to safely put your magic inside the convergence crystal!” You glared, before asking Bloom another question. “Tell me. What was the plan when you went to Rosalind? Hmm? Make her pay? Cause that is still second-degree murder!”

Unknown to you, Riven and Saul had walked inside the hall, seeing Sky on the floor. Behind them, Cathán had his team scout around making sure all of Sebastian’s blood witches were down. He then had two of the fairies escort Sky to the med base they had set up.

All of a sudden, Sebastian chuckled, drawing your gaze towards him.

“You have no idea...”

“What you’ve done? That conduit to the Realm of Darkness of yours is closing as we speak. Around 10 particularly strong blood witches are shutting it down... For good. I mean I would have. But I had some business to take care of.”

“No!” Sebastian yelled. You simply smirked in response. Footsteps coming from behind you had you turning your head. Behind you, you saw Brooklyn, Dawn, Aella, Ezekiel, Adara and Virgil standing in an upside down V formation with you at the point and Adara and Virgil standing on each side, slightly behind you.

“Now then, Sebastian. You may be strong. But are you strong than me? And 6 transformed fairies?” You taunted, releasing him from the vines that held him to the wall. The fairies stood around him, holding a hand before them and pushed their magic into him. Before the first blast could hit him, he raised a shield using some lightning from the air magic he still had left. Another blast came his way and another. He was soon overwhelmed by the magic attacking him and his shield began to drop allowing the last blast to hit his straight on. His eyes caught you, tears welling in his own as he realised his end, and you looked cooly back. He then disintegrated, your words echoing in his mind. “Goodbye, cousin.”

With that, the group slowed their magic, Virgil getting Bloom down from the vines. You simply looked at her before deciding to be leinent towards her... after Virgil and Adara’s collected glares. The other fairies had left afterwards heading back to their squads and checking in with medical.

“You want to know about your mother...” You waited for Bloom to nod before continuing. “She had the Dragon Flame like you -”

“I thought it only existed 1,000 years ago.” Bloom interrupted, your glare going unnoticed.

“No. It was just in stasis for 1,000 years. Because you were in stasis for 1,000 years as a baby.”

“So, I was... I was born 1,000 ye... years ago? In the middle of an ancient war. That's...”

“Your biological mother and the Dragon Flame were the ‘heroes’ of that war until she lost control and thousands died. She was wracked with guilt for what she'd done, for passing the burden on to you. She couldn't fathom you going down the same path, so, the day you were born, she put you in stasis and she put herself in the Realm of Darkness.”

“What?! But you destroyed the portal! I could have met my mother!”

“Wow! Do you have any idea what the conduit would do?! There's an entity in the Realm of Darkness. Shadow. It can raise the dead. Sebastian wanted to bring everyone from Aster Dell back to life. Only, last time it happened, it nearly destroyed the Otherworld! Are you willing enough to be the cause of thousands if not millions because you want to meet your biological mother when you have two parents at home waiting for you?!” You scoffed before explaining the harsh reality to a now trembling Bloom.

Shaking your head, you left Bloom in the hall before heading towards the medical bay, Virgil and Adara following behind you. As you entered the tent, you asked some of the doctors how it was.

“Most of the fairies are getting their magic back but there will be a number of scars.” The doctor replied.

“Fatalities?” Virgil asked, as he looked around.

“A lot less than if you hadn’t come to help. 9 fairies and around 5 specialists.” The doctor explained.

“Thank you.” You said, nodding in gratitude.

“No problem.” The doctor replied before the three of you left for the safe house. After an hour of driving through abandoned woods, you stepped out to a large house, child’s laughter and shrieks echoing around. The three of you looked at each other before chuckling softly and knocking on the front door. It opened to a pair of twins, who then broke out into wide smiles.

“You’re back! Guys! V, Ad, and Y/N/N are back!” The twins yelled out, hugging the trio. Soon the sound of running footsteps were heard as more children ran up to them, tackling them to the floor. The trio looked at each other, around the children they were cradling in their arms, before whispering,

“For the children.”

#sky x reader #sky fate winx saga #riven fate winx saga #riven x reader #saul silva x reader #platonic relationships #fate the winx saga #fate the winx saga season 2 spoilers #blood witch reader #specialist reader

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imaaa · 2 years

Note

Dear Imaaa,

you know, had we lived in the same city I would have given you this letter in person. however, this is not possible for now so here's a typed letter that I'm writing to you on this very precious occasion that is your birthday. So for a couple of minutes just assume that I'm standing in front of you holding your tiny miny hands in my tiny miny hands and saying all this to you. My heart is already smiling and Imaaa I have a request, please don't hold your smile or laugh while I'm speaking my heart out, and sorry in advance if this letter doesn't serve you the purpose it is written for cause I'm no friends with expressing my thoughts out loud.

So, Imaaa it's your birthday. Pleasantest birthday my dear Imaaa, hope you take a rest from your schedule and look after your heart and mind, hope you don't stress over anything, hope you play some songs that soothe your soul and rejuvenate your surroundings and hope you meet and spend time with your loved ones and have some delicious food while laughing and having a good time, hope nothing bothers you today and you don't occupy yourself with any particular thing that troubles your mood. Sending you a bouquet of sunflowers and roses with a note .

Imaaa I don't know how you pronounce your name but I believe however it sounds, it sounds cute and adorable just like your appearance on Tumblr. (I had to mention Tumblr this is where I found you and I'm glad I did)

How often do we meet someone and feel like we have known them forever ? Not often right? I remember scrolling through some posts on tumblr on a random day and finding my mind and my eyes stuck on this one post on 'letting go' and also instantly fighting this urge to read more of such writings and then never wanting to scroll back.

Imaaa how do you do this? How even? Sometimes all of a sudden i go through this craving to open tumblr and read all of your phenomenal write-ups cause Imaaa I have said this before and let me say it as many times as I can when you write, you write as your words have a life breathing inside them, you write to give those mere 26 alphabets a purpose to exist, a purpose to make people feel emotions they weren't aware of yet, you assemble them and create a rhythm it's incredible Miss Imaaa. It's miracle which you perform.

Imaaa I pray you clear your exam and get back to writing cause we all miss you. I miss you. Daisy misses you. Tumblr misses you.

Once again, HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY MY LOVELIEST IMAAA HAPPIEST HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY 🌻🌻🌻 KEEP SMILING KEEP SPREADING LOVE AND WARMTH✨

ps: i didn't intend to stretch this letter so long but heyyy I couldn't stop myself hope you don't mind.

Your fangirl

Sky(with love and sunshine)

every year, on my birthday, something happens that doesn't go well. every year there's something that makes me want to have this day pass as soon as possible because my fate with birthdays hasn't been good. and maybe that's why i wanted YOU to wish me because i knew i needed someone to remind me of love on my birthday. i read your wish at 2 a.m. and i cried while reading it. it's the first time, i cried HAPPY tears on my birthday. usually, i shed the painful ones. this time i didn't. although i didn't have a very happy day but today was the kind of day when i came to some realisations that were important. anyway. sky, i will always be grateful to my life that it made me meet you. you make such a huge difference in my life. genuinely, i am so lucky to have you. you make me so happy, and i love you so much for that. not going to lie, yours is THE best wish i received today. and i will keep on coming back to it. do you realise how fortunate i am to have received this SO WELL CURATED letter that's written with so much delicacy? like you put your heart into it to pour as much softness as you could. i am unable to express my gratitude in the way i want to, but please please know that you're my major highlight of this 21st birthday. and IN SO MANY WAYS yours birthday wish SAVED this day from getting ruined. i kept on reminding myself that as long as i have people like sky, i don't have to focus on the ones to whom i don't mean much. i love you sky, thank you for coming in my life and choosing to bestow so much warmth onto me. out of all the days, today was the day i needed it the most. (i am sorry for responding so late, i wanted to have a calm mind to sit down and form a proper reply.)

#SKY IS MY SUNSHINE AND NOTHING'S GONNA CHANGE THAT

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alumort · 1 year

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Ao3

'Lee dies protecting neji, whose mental illness gets worse after seeing his crush die in his arms' the fic

Warning this angst is so heavy i almost make myself cry(i dont cry from fiction even less from MY fiction, this is saying a lot)

All he expected from the war was to never return home, for his soul to become a faded memory on the minds of his loved ones. Nothing would ever change in his clan– so why bother? Why bother going on? It was better to be dead than to suffer, to hide himself away and mask who he really was just to not have the cursed seal activated on him.

And then, the perfect opportunity appeared. Hinata was in danger, wooden stakes rushing to pierce her entire being without any kind of mercy.

Neji suppressed his urge to smile as he placed himself in front of her, extending his arms and closing his eyes in the await of the eternal rest that death would bring. Would his father be there, welcoming him?

… once again, fate proved that it tended to be unexpected, playing tricks on people's hearts and hopes. Pain never came, but the sound of the stakes piercing through someone's body invaded his ears.

The brunet opened his eyes, and coldness rose through his entire soul. His legs almost gave up– there was someone in the ground, who had a black bowl cut and a characteristic green jumpsuit. There was blood everywhere, his heart started to race at millions of kilometers per hour, and–

"Lee!" Neji heard himself scream with all the air of his lungs, running towards where his friend had fallen, the sound of his heartbeats being too fast for him to be able to focus on anything else. He was only able to sit down by his side, carefully managing to grab him with both arms in an attempt of stabilizing him.

Fuck. Lee wasn’t supposed to die there– where had he come from so quickly? He willingly put himself in front of the brunet, knowing well what would happen to him and still…

"N… Neji…" the taijutsu master muttered, his eyes trying to focus on his friend in the middle of his despair, tears already forming on his eyes.

His body was getting cold on his arms, blood kept falling from his injuries without stopping, no matter how much he tried to stop the bleeding with his bare hands. Nobody was close enough to be able to help, nobody but him had seemed to notice what was happening– the world became unfocused and blurry, and all Neji could see was Lee dying in his arms with no way of preventing it from happening.

"Lee, don't talk,” the brunet said in a soft tone, his lips trembling with every word that came out of his mouth. He held him closer to his chest as if it would change anything, his hands pressing his friend’s back in an attempt to help. “Breathe, Lee. You’ll be okay. Just look at me, alright?”

As usual, Lee didn’t listen. He tried to move but had no energy or strength in his muscles– not anymore. All of it disappeared in mere seconds, the ground died of a crimson red that made Neji shiver with fear. He felt tears forming on his eyes, but he gulped and tried to hide them– Lee would get even more anxious than he already was. He didn’t need more stress.

There was still time for him to be saved… right?

“Neji… I– I love…” Lee mumbled, his voice rough and barely audible between the chaos of the battle.

He never managed to finish whatever he was going to say between long pauses of his breath, yet Neji already knew. God, how well he knew, having cuddled with him every night ever since the conflict had started and sometimes even before that– Lee’s eyes soon lost the characteristic spark they always had, that always showed how enthusiastic he was with life no matter the struggles he might have had… life that didn’t exist anymore, erased like lines in a paper thanks to some wooden stakes that shouldn’t have injured him at all.

Lee was gone. And Neji couldn’t (didn’t want to) let go of his body, no matter how gelid his skin became or how cloudy his pupils were now. He held him close, in hopes of hearing his heartbeats once again, of seeing his huge grin as if nothing had happened and then they would begin fighting back-to-back against any enemy that crossed their paths.

But that would never happen. If everything had been a piece of fiction, perhaps there would be some chances of his dreams coming true, no matter how far-fetched and impossible they were. No matter how warm and happy the Infinite Tsukuyomi made him feel, just by showing a world in which he could hold Lee’s hands without fearing any kind of punishment coming from his clan, a world where he could go and get his top surgery thanks to Tsunade and Sakura without an ounce of fear deep inside of his soul.

Waking up from that fake reality was like receiving a kick right on the stomach, air leaving his lungs in mere seconds. He finally allowed himself to cry until his tear ducts dried up, not allowing anybody else to see his pain, not even the remaining survivors of his team. Gai ended up lethally injured from the Eight Gates and he could do nothing but cry in silence, frozen right where he was.

In his eyes the world had turned gray, any hidden enthusiasm completely removed from his entire being, washed away from his heart and mind.

Every day was the same, without any kind of odd or exciting challenges from anyone to distract him, to spend his time doing something else apart from meditating and reading all day inside of his room.

There were no serious injuries in his body after the war, in his skin. He was able to continue taking missions, each harder and longer than the previous one even in the middle of a peace period.

What was really in pain was his soul, but he didn’t have the heart to do something about it

Neji didn't care anymore. Any time outside of the Hyuga compound was good, and he would do anything in his power to be far away from the village whenever it was possible. It didn't matter that his body never had time to rest, that he wasn't able to talk with his remaining friends– if Neji allowed his brain to rest, memories would flood his mind, and tears would fall without control.

He shouldn't cry. He was an Anbu for heaven's sake, and feelings shouldn't get in the way of his job. Feelings were dangerous now, no matter how loneliness invaded him from time to time.

It was like his body was on autopilot, and all he could do was observe and go on. Obey orders, train the newer Anbu, and return home was all he did nowadays. He was apathetic towards the world, barely blinking when Tenten informed him that their mentor had woken up from his long coma. Only then had he accepted Kakashi’s attempts of forcing him to take a break and even then, he decided to spend time as far away from his house as possible.

No words came out of his mouth when he visited his mentor, who tried to act as if everything was alright. As if he would be able to be a ninja again, as if Lee hadn’t–

Neji wanted to cry. His chest felt tight, his hands closing up in a fist while his gaze became unfocused. He hadn’t realized that he had been holding his breath until he inhaled deeply and his lungs were filled once again, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. Gai had wondered what was wrong, but he couldn’t find the words to tell him– he wasn’t even sure if there were words to say what he felt, how he felt. And truly, he just wanted everything to be over, to ignore the pain and be able to enjoy life once again.

But how could he go on, knowing that his crush best friend wouldn’t be by his side anymore, cheering on him to go on and keep fighting destiny? His body felt heavy.

So he left the hospital without even looking at his mentor in the eye, without waving goodbye. His brain was foggy and he didn’t even realize when he had arrived at his house in the compound, his jaw clenched and his eyes itching.

His futon was comfortable, at least. It didn’t go away, it warmed him up… reading books there was nice, covered by his many blankets. It would be so easy to just stay there and do nothing, but life had to go on, and he knew. It didn’t make it less hard.

Apparently, people began picking up how he felt, even if most of the time he went quiet unless a mission required words to be said out loud to his teammates. Kakashi even began forcing him to take breaks at least once a month after seeing how… little he began caring about talking, after seeing how quiet he had become with the passage of months. He had even suggested that he got out of Anbu, to focus on something else, to which the brunet had scoffed and simply decided to take the forced breaks.

Everyone was beginning to notice that Neji wasn’t even using his special creams and shampoo anymore, not even after receiving them as gifts on his birthday. Why bother? It wasn’t like it affected anyone, like he cared about his hair getting dryer without the extra oils that he was used to placing on it. His eye bags were beginning to get more and more marked, too, yet nobody had said a word about that.

Sleeping was hard. Memories from the past made him feel like he was choking with his own saliva, no matter how many things he tried to avoid these– and so, most of his nights were spent reading a growing collection of books of any kind, that allowed him to forget his lack of energy for as long as his eyes focused on the pages. He had also hidden the photograph he had with the rest of Team Gai, afraid that seeing his face again would break him down even more. He didn’t like himself too much anymore, but he wouldn’t force himself to go through more pain than what he could avoid on his own.

There really wasn’t anything more interesting to do now. And at times, all Neji wanted to do was cuddle up inside his futon and never go out, hide between blankets and stay there until his body rot and worms started to appear and–

A sudden noise made him pop his head out of his simple refuge, more out of curiosity than anything else. He felt too sleepy to even realize where the sound had come from, until it was repeated.

Someone was knocking on his door, and he was too tired to analyze their chakra to see who was outside. Who would like to bother him now, on his break? Neji didn’t want to get up and figure out who they were, maybe if he acted as if he wasn’t there…

“Neji, we know you’re there! C’mon, open the door!”

Ah, of course. Tenten liked to check on him from time to time, even if he barely muttered a soft ‘hi’ and nothing else when they met. He groaned, tilting his head back before forcing himself to finally get up for the first time in the entire day, not even caring about changing his clothes or brushing his hair to let his friend in, dodging messy piles of clothes and books on the way. Neji barely blinked at seeing that she was accompanied by Gai– he now had to use a wheelchair, but acted as if that barely bothered him.

“... sorry for the mess,” the Hyuga managed to mumble, moving things just enough to allow the other man to comfortably enter his house. He didn’t feel anything at seeing all the random junk he had to move, not really wanting to analyze it too deeply. After some seconds of silence, Neji spoke again. “Do you want something to drink? I think I still have some tea, or coffee... whatever.”

“Don’t worry, my dear student. We’re okay– we just wanted to see how you are feeling.”

Neji didn’t know how to answer that, letting out a long sigh before scratching his chin. He hadn’t even remembered to go retrieve his testosterone shots, and everything accumulated and– his heart felt empty, somehow. It was hard to keep his eyes open.

Tenten moved a journal from a chair and sat down, placing her hands on her lap without saying much, her gaze observing the place while trying to not be too obvious. There used to be a time in which Neji kept everything tidied up and organized, almost as if his life depended on the symmetry of his house, but now… the change must have been something too shocking to let his teammates speak. Remembering what Gai said, the Hyuga decided to fill the uncomfortable silence that had arisen in the room.”

“I don’t know how I feel anymore. I just want to rest, ” the brunet admitted, his lips shaking slightly as he talked. “I don’t want to do anything.”

Who would think that the Hyuga prodigy would end up like that? His house was unkempt, his energy disappearing more and more with every passing day, and with dirtyness taking over his entire being.

He was so fucking disgusting. Why would Tenten and Gai keep trying to cheer him up, in their own ways? He didn’t deserve any of that.

Still, his mentor still tried, speaking up once he had sat down to Tenten’s right.

“Neji, I know how hard it is to lose someone you loved deeply. I… I miss him too. He was like my son– you three are, don’t get me wrong,” Gai started to say, his expression shifting into a sad grimace for a moment before he could hide his sadness with a grin once again. “I knew him since he was in the academy, and I almost adopted him– but, I was his mentor, and his mother is still alive. I couldn’t…”

“He wouldn’t like to see you not taking care of yourself,” Tenten commented, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder with a barely visible smile on her face. Her eyes were starting to get teary, but she also decided to mask the turmoil of her heart.

Neji couldn’t speak anymore, his gaze fixated on his own feet. The moment he opened his mouth, tears would fall down from his eyes as if they were part of a waterfall of sorts, and he didn’t want to cry in front of his loved ones. In front of anyone.

“Yes. But know that we’ll be here for you– you aren’t alone, my dear student. And… well, there’s another reason we came here today.”

That made him curious, his eyes falling on his mentor’s gaze in an attempt to try and guess what was going on to no avail. It was then that Gai rolled his wheelchair towards him, a gentle smile on his face– if he hadn’t offered him a small green box, he would have never even noticed its existence.

A tilted head and a soft ‘hm’ were all that Neji needed to make a question, and he didn’t produce any extra noises or words.

“Lee usually spent more time with Kakashi and me than in his own house, but I’m sure you know that. His mother wasn’t really fond of him or his personal things– so he left this in my house, so she would never find it,” the taijutsu master exclaimed, placing the package on his student’s hands. “I’m completely sure this was going to be for you, so… you should have it.”

Neji decided to accept the thing, squinting his eyes as he opened it– only to gasp at seeing what was inside, as if the box’s contents were waiting for his eyes and his eyes only.

One of Lee’s many hobbies had been photography, and so, there were a lot of images of him with his rival inside, both of them happy or just relaxing together. There were pictures that Neji didn’t even remember, but what was written behind was enough for his memories to awaken in no time.

It was like a collection of all the things they had gone through together, ever since the brunet had been more willing to accept his challenges and random spars. Photographs of when they used to disguise themselves as extremely hilarious things or people, or even when they acted as if they were together just for fun yet still enjoyed the act, even if they would never admit it out loud.

Couldn’t , or Neji would be killed on the spot by anyone from the Main Branch.

He didn’t even realize that he had started to cry until Tenten got up to hug him, and his arms instinctively embraced her back. Neji felt himself becoming breathless as tears fell, as he hid between his friend’s arms to feel safe.

“He– he was talking to me when he died. He was saying ‘I love you’ and then–” Neji exclaimed, his hands accidentally dropping the few pictures that he had with Lee, and hurriedly tried to grab them again even if it meant letting go of Tenten. “I never was able to tell him that I loved him too, and now– he’s never coming back, fuck, he fucking died in my arms.”

Gai placed a hand on his shoulder, and nobody interrupted him as he talked. As he let his pain overflow through his voice, through his tears, while observing the few memories with his rival that were physically present now. He only let them go to avoid ruining them with his tears.

He felt hopeless, but something deep inside of him was relieved that Lee’s photographs had been found. Things that would otherwise be forgotten were now visible for him, he could just look at the images and remember all the warmth that he felt towards his rival at any time. Neji thought it would only bring bitterness to his soul, but… he felt nostalgic more than anything, missing the other boy with all of his heart.

“Oh, he knew that you loved him. Believe me– he never stopped talking about you!” Tenten exclaimed, after some seconds that felt eternal. Her eyes weren’t teary anymore, and she even seemed content to talk to the brunet once again. “He always said that you are ‘a very handsome person’ and that you made him happy, just by hugging him.”

For the first time in long, long months, Neji was able to giggle genuinely at something. There were a few tears still in his eyes, but he felt calmer now, finally able to look at his teammates in the eye.

He would never understand why they would decide to still be by his side, but he allowed them to be in his life once again, even trying to get out of his house to do something apart from going on missions for the Hokage. With time, Neji accepted Kakashi’s suggestion of getting out of Anbu and simply being a Jounin without the darker part of the job.

It was a good decision, and he even thought of becoming a mentor like Gai had been in the past.

(And if Sakura, after becoming the seventh Hokage, ended up assigning him a student with black hair and thick eyebrows nobody batted an eye. Neji felt nostalgic at seeing him, and perhaps he quickly got fond of him without any apparent reason for people who didn't know much about his past.)

#nejilee #leeneji #neji hyuga #rock lee #tenten #maito gai #angst #death tw #tw suicidal thoughts

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whenthepwn · 2 years

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“you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” + asherjoan

idiots to lovers romantic starters, estrelando asher & joan.

Since childhood, Asher knew that there comes a moment in life when there are very few things that you are able to enjoy. Maybe because he comes from a long lineage of bitter people, all grumpy men and hysteric women unsatisfied with their lifes, he knew that enjoyable could, someday, mean buying a new pack of cigarettes and spending an hour without having to face your nagging wife and snotty kids. That's just how it happens in the Hwang family. No happy endings. Just a punch-in-the-guts-realistic day-to-day, with no remarkable bright sides. A true fairytale to a child.

At first, he thought he could be the different one. Trickle fate, don't become a boring adult. Get a tattoo and a hot wife. A whole new reputation in college, three different tattoo artists and a huge list of one night stands after, he was almost there. Enjoyable meant being an acclaimed writer with a great apartment and a hot fiancé, having spontaneous sex and quick getaways all the time. While his friends had gotten children and lost hair and their will to exist, life was flourishing for Asher. He'd write another book and maybe him and Sofia would move, live like the pretentious people they were, in some overpriced and terrible neighborhood in Spain. It didn't matter that, after seven years of relationship, he spoke barely ten phrases in Spanish. They were going to make it.

And then she left and he moved back to Yangyang, living in the same damned house he used to live in as child, buying a pack of cigarettes and thinking at least I don't have a wife and kids as a solace. Yes, life sucked. But he learned that it could always suck more. He could adapt the definition of enjoyable again. Leave him a supply of cigarette packs, a coffee pot and his notebook, and then he could entertain himself for the rest of eternity without having to see a single person. The way things were, the world was probably going to end soon, anyway.

The camera expands and Joan comes on the scene, awkwardly watching him while he smokes. The thing is, if he were to be on his best and most romcom protagonist behavior for the night, he had to have his solemn and silent moment, even if part of him wants to do it. Only for their joke and bet, obviously. "Is there anything more romantic than someone feeling comfortable enough to self destruct next to you, anyway?" He watches her attentively as he always does, ignoring the implications of what he says. He isn't sure of when or how their communication went from lame jests to this, but it happened, and Asher treads over this new land carefully, waiting for the first sign of Joan's rejection. He hoped she would at least be kind enough to forget about the romantic and dramatic novels he confessed to write.

It's tough, trying to get used to having someone to answer to again. Even if it's not important. Even they don't have any sort of relationship besides reluctant neighbors. He says to himself that he can disappear or simply close the curtains and ignore her anytime he wants with no trace of remorse, but he can't bring himself to do it. In the end, he thinks about her first fifth thing in the morning, fights the urge to ask what exactly is happening in her draft. He is curious, that's it.

Curious enough to let his mind wander while she is talking, accidentally admiring her pouty lips and witty eyes for too long while telling himself that it's too late to back off now. "Wait, what did you say again?" His unusual lack of attention to her is instantly rewarded with a comeback, one that he was smart enough to appreciate, even if defeated. You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid. Something to overthink about before sleeping. "Ouch, Joanie, you always know the right thing to say. Save it for your draft." He brings his hands to his chest, doing his best to look totally entranced by her words. "Alright, let's go. I hope you are happy. I'm 90% sure that you ruined our chance of having a great moment. Meg Ryan would never say that. She'd ask for the cigarette butt and kiss my ashy lips."

#does it make sense...#𓆸⠀⠀⠀pairing⠀⠀⠀﹐⠀⠀⠀asher & joan.#𓆸⠀⠀⠀partner⠀⠀⠀﹐⠀⠀⠀suke.

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superpeanutgarden · 4 months

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Christmas Emotions: Why I will never hang a shining star upon the highest bough

Content Warning: A massive rant about grief, plus personal trauma

I have a complicated relationship with the month of December. Not just in the traditional Living-in-the-northern-hemisphere-it's-dark-and-cold-and-I'm-depressed way.

You see, I experienced a traumatic separation from my adopted brother when I was thirteen. (I mean, my whole family did. it has left us all affected in different ways.) His birthday is in December.

We lost custody on Memorial Day weekend (a fact I did not remember until this year), but his birthday is halfway through December.

He turned 19 this year. (We lost custody 13 years ago.) The name we gave him (probably not his name anymore) was Jared. It sounds like a shitpost, but my sibling and I were robbed of- among other things- a whole year of "Jared, 19, never fucking learned how to read" jokes.

Grief is hard. It's messy and weird in ways you can never truly know or understand until you experience it. The longing of something that will never happen again, wishing that it was all a dream, hating how other people get to be happy and hating yourself for being bitter in the face of joy. The thing that annoys me the most is when people try to erase the ugly parts. (Not just of grief, but that's the focus of this blog post.) Specifically when people ignore how grief affects you for the rest of your life. It never stops, never fully goes away, never truly dulls. It only gets smaller, less frequent, more surprising.

December is a whole freaking month devoted to hope and community. The commodification of the sacred tradition of solidarity has sanitized the concepts to the point of being almost entirely repugnant. There were several years where I could not bear to listen to any christmas music written during the last 100 years because it was too happy and did not reflect the rage and emptiness I felt. Thankfully I am past that point, but it took a lot of reflection and intentional thinking to get here. We're talking three years minimum where all I wanted to listen to were hymns that focused on the fact that December is a month of darkness and cold, and how the concept of hope was once (and still might be) far away and hard to grasp.

To this day, there is a single song that sets me off every time I hear it. I call it "the cowards version of Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas". According to urban legend, the original lyrics were deemed 'too depressing' to be featured in the film "Meet Me in Saint Louis" by Judy Garland herself. I don't personally care why there are two versions around. One faces the reality that I have had to live with the past 13 years, that countless others face every year, and one erases it. It's not a big difference, there's only a single line that changed. "Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow" became "hang a shining star upon the highest bough." and that change infuriates me every time I experience it. Let me show you why

"Someday soon, we all will be together/ if the fates allow/ until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow/ and have yourself a merry little christmas now."

The song overall discusses how the singer is separated from their loved ones. Some, maybe even most, of the "faithful friends who are dear [...] gather near [...] once more", but there above quoted verse implies that there is someone still missing; perhaps more than one person. And yet, the singer urges the audience not to wait for those missing loved ones to return in order to find joy. Because sometimes it isn't that your sibling has moved out and your parents and little brother went up north to visit family and you have the house to yourself for Christmas Day. Sometimes the person you're missing is gone for years, sometimes they're never coming back. And what are you going to do about it? You can't just put your life on hold. TO quote another song entirely "the years start coming and they don't stop coming". Until they come back from vacation, or deployment, or self-inflicted isolation, or until you are all reunited in the afterlife, we all have to muddle through somehow. Can't go back, can't stand still, gotta move forward and find a way to have a merry little christmas with the people you still have.

Hope is beautiful, but it is also messy and those who need it most are often marred with blood and trench-dirt and rubble-dust and scorch-marks. (for God's sake, there's a fucking genocide going on in Palestine right now) Grief never goes away, but neither will I. My family will have to muddle through somehow for the rest of our lives, and by all the gods who care to listen, we will have ourselves a Merry Little Christmas right fucking Now, and we will honor the gaping hole in the fabric of our family but we will NOT allow it to rob us of more than it already has.

Anyway, Merry Christmas and Free Palestine

#you dont know me #but i know you #words words words #personal rant #sad thoughts #tw grief #grief journal #christmas

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mrs-luigi-vargas · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday

So my dumbass saw "Quest for a Cure" and "Magical Remedy" on the Sicktember prompt sheet and went "oh, they go on a journey to an abandoned castle to find a magical artifact to break a deadly curse that first manifests as a persistent fever" and now this fill is 5.5k words and counting send help

But actually though its been fun! Angstier than I usually do things, for sure. I'm experimenting with line breaks and intentional repetition a bit, which is neat. Gotta write Bowser having a meltdown soon; accidentally made that maybe a bit more intense than I was aiming for but its fine. Mario gets to quietly suffer in the background regarding the fate of his brother for most of the fic, because its in Bowser's POV and he's more concerned about Junior. I managed to sneak some humor in here, too, somehow, so at least there's that. I'm really happy with what I've got so far! ^_^

So while Mario and Bowser are busy serving as Junior and Luigi's last hope, here's Luigi suffering under a curse and Peach worrying about him, I guess.

---

Back at the castle, Peach sat by Bowser Junior’s bedside, as she had been doing for the past few days. She’d promised Bowser she’d watch over him while he was gone, and she had no intention of shirking that responsibility in the slightest. It was the least she could do to help.

She was forced to multitask, though, as she had been doing for the past few days, when Luigi entered the room. He’d been swept away earlier that morning for Kamek and Kammy to run some extra tests to double check their calculations. Now he was back, carrying a tray that definitely hadn't come from the Magikoopas by the bowls of fruit sitting on it.

Luigi’s arms shook with the effort of holding the tray up; the bowls began to slide against the metal, and Peach hurried to swerve around all the medical equipment in the room to take the tray from him before everything fell onto the floor. As she put the tray on a nearby table, Luigi’s arms drifted to curl around himself, as they had been doing for the past few days. He met Peach’s scolding frown with a sheepish tilt of his lips. “Hey,” he whispered, squeezing his arms to keep shivers at bay.

“Luigi,” Peach sighed.

“I know...” Luigi frowned. “I just...” He swayed on his feet. Peach put an arm under his shoulders to steady him. “You missed breakfast,” he said as Peach helped him into a chair. “Wanted to help.”

“You can help by resting like you're supposed to,” Peach scolded him, “So I don't have to worry about you as much.” She tugged Luigi’s hat to cover his hair, as if to punctuate her statement.

Peach had pulled Luigi’s hat too far forward, so Luigi pushed it up out of his eyes. He fiddled with the brim, twisting and bending it. “It hasn't been that bad today,” he tried to reassure Peach. “I just...ya know...woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, ‘sall.”

Despite the heavy bags under Luigi’s eyes, Peach still looked unconvinced. She put a hand on his face and winced at the heat radiating from it. “Your fever’s gotten worse,” she worried.

Luigi hummed, leaning into her touch. She moved her hand to the back of his head, and Luigi tipped forward to rest his head against her. She carded her hand through his hair and wished she could send some healing magic over to him, despite Kamek and Kammy’s warnings that it would at best not do anything to help and at worst accelerate the curse’s effects somehow.

The bowl of fruit was within arm’s reach, so Peach helped herself to its contents. “Have you eaten?” she asked Luigi.

“Wasn't hungry.”

That's what he’d said at dinner last night, and at lunch before then. “You need to eat,” Peach said with a frown.

“Mrgh.” Luigi lifted his head to look at her. He squinted. “You're supposed’ta starve a fever, ain't ya? ’S fine.”

“No, that’s not a real thing. You need to eat,” Peach urged him. She plucked some grapes off the tray and fed them to him, one at a time. He only ate a few before pressing his face into her dress again. Not nearly enough. But she couldn't force it.

"...I hope Mario’s okay."

“He definitely is, I’m sure!” Peach put some cheer into her voice. “Bowser’s with him, after all. I don't think he’d let Mario get taken out by anyone except himself.”

Luigi huffed a laugh. He started to doze off right after, and part of Peach wondered how bad Junior got before he stopped waking up. The forced smile slid off her face.

#wip wednesday #smb #luigi #princess peach #mlv.fic #honestly this fic feels more like a fic people are sick in than an actual sickfic #which is splitting weeds but meh #i think its because the sickness isn't a contagion its a curse so it feels weird #the only other sickfics I've really read were all contagion-based lmao #also again most of the fic is Mario and Bowser dungeon-crawling #and i mean Bowser's got a headache but that's it really #(and its a headache that more fluctuates based on how much hope these characters have than anything grounded biologically lol)#anyway i'm rambling #i'm really excited for this one y'all #sicktember 2023 project

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creepypasta-archive · 2 years

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I Beat Jeff

by TheManOfMysteriousStories

One of the most important stories for the creation of this page and timeline project. A random tale that will have some people scratching their chins in familiarity, that both canonices dates, time stamps and also sets up one of the biggests deux ex machinas that make this project continue to work

CW// murder

Click below to read the original unedited story

Have you ever heard of Jeff the Killer? That crazy maniac on the news, who, as a teen, killed his family and carved his face? Well, I came face to face with him, I was supposed to be one of his victims, but I wasn't. As fate would have it, I escaped. Yes, you heard right, I beat Jeff the Killer, and this is my story.

My name is Brooklyn Janice Barnes, and this all took place exactly one year ago to this very day. It was around six or so in the morning, I was asleep, all snuggled under the warm covers of my bed, when my best friend Sierra suddenly came pounding at my door. "Are you crazy? It is six o'clock in the morning, and I just got off my shift at work no less than an hour ago!" I scolded. I worked at the town's local video store, which happens to be open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Don't ask me why, it's s video store, it shouldn't be that way, I know. Anyways, after my scolding, Sierra quickly replied with "You need to come over, something weird is going on, and it has to do with you." Then, quickly rushed me out of my house, and into her car.

Once we got into her house, she began giving me a tour through every room, as if I had never been there before. Now, something you should note; Sierra lives with her twenty-six year old brother, who happens to work at the video store with me, of course, this being a year ago, he, at the time, was only twenty-five, and Sierra and I were only seventeen. With all that being said, Sierra and her brother, Nick, kept a television in every room in their very big house, yes even the kitchen and the laundry room-- hell, even the bathroom had a T.V.

As Sierra walked me through the house, every television was displaying a strange man that I'd never seen before in my life. Going through the house, I heard some of the words and phrases the man spoke like "You're not so bad yourself" or "No time to explain, just trust me on this and listen!", and at one point I heard the words 'Message' 'Technologically' and 'DVDs' but I really got scared when at one point, I heard the man speak my full name. I ran out of the house, and as tired as I was, sprinted all the way back to my house. Sierra had quickly followed after, driving down the road in her car urging me to get back inside and come back to her place for the rest of the night. But, I didn't listen, and got back to my house at six twenty-five. Not even a minute before I got through the door, saying "You need to get outta here, now!" "Why?" I questioned "What's so dangerous about my house all of the sudden?"

At this point, Sierra started rambling on about how my life's in danger, and trying to explain to me that one or both of us could be killed if we didn't get out of there soon. I, not believing her, and at this point even thinking my own best friend had gone crazy, just ignored it and started heading to my room to go back to sleep. Before I could make it to my room however, a knife swiftly flew past my head, just barely swinging a bit of hair off of the mack of my head.

I heard a deep voice from inside the room which spoke "I must be off today, that should have been your head!" I screamed upon hearing this and ran back to get Sierra and leave the house. All of the sudden, I had this dark hooded figure chasing after me going a ridiculously fast speed, and Sierra sprinted past me, locking her hands with the figures, holding him off while screaming "Go, Brook! Jeff is too fast! He'll make quick work of me, so you need to get back to my house where it's safe!"

I sprinted as fast as I could out of the house upon hearing that. Jeff, as in Jeff the Killer, he was in my house. He was going to be my murderer, but he had now become my best friend's killer. Needless to say, I was scared for my life at this point.

With top speed, I got back to Nick and Sierra's house, and then ran up the stairs and into Nick's room with him. "Nick, restart the video!" I demanded, "What?" he questioned, "Why?" "Because Sierra said it had something to do with me, and she's probably dead! Now play the video!!" "Wait, why is my sister dead? The video said you're the one that dies!" "Just play the damn video!" I urged, and with no further questions, he restarted the video.

As the video started, the man came on screen and the dialogue started: "My name is James, I'm a simple technologically savvy man, whom specializes in editing DVDs like the one you're watching right now. I've burned this message for Brooklyn Janice Barnes onto a select DVD to warn her that if she does not leave her house by exactly six-thirty AM on October twenty-first, two thousand and twelve, she will be killed."

Suddenly, the man stopped talking, and I made the comment "Y'know, on second thought, this guy isn't creepy. He's kinda cute!"

The man on the video spoke again, "Thanks for the compliment! You're not so bad yourself, Brook."

The man paused, as I looked at the T.V. oddly, "Wait, did you just talk to me?" I asked, "Can you actually hear me?"

James spoke again "Yes, I did respond, but no, I can't hear you. Look, I can't really explain how this is happening, or, in my case, HOW it happened, but if I'm correct, you're at Nick's house right now, are you not?"

As James paused, I replied with "Yes, Sierra was just murdered!"

"Oh, this is gold! I'm gonna write all this down! We'll be rich!" Nick exclaimed, grabbing a few sheets of paper and pencil as he started to write the strange conversation down in script form, to which James spoke again "Yes, by Jeff the Killer."

James paused again, and I asked "Who are you, and how do you know all this?" James once again began to speak "No time to explain. Just trust me on this and listen; Jeff is coming, you two need to get to the one place he would never expect to find you, his old house! Directions are popping up on the screen now."

Before the coordinates showed, I quickly asked "How do you know exactly what to say if you can't hear me?!" to which James replied, holding up a script "I had a feeling you'd ask, and the answer is, I have a transcript of what you'll say before hand right here of mine and your conversation. Now go!"

I began to ask "But how did you get that script?" but before I could finish, the directions popped up on screen, and James had been done speaking and never said anything beyond that point. I quickly rushed Nick, who couldn't stop babbling about how cool all this was, despite the fact his sister, my best friend, was probably long since dead, out of his house and into the car as I memorized the directions to Jeff's old house.

Upon arriving to Jeff's old house, it had looked quite old just from the outside, abandoned. A dusty old door mat placed by the front door, the house was beat up and severely damaged, and the grass hadn't been cut in years. Inside, there were old, dead plants, the furniture was covered and preserved in plastic, and there was absolutely no heat or electricity. Regardless, Nick and I had stayed not only the night, but an entire week in that house, alone; only ever leaving to go get snacks and drinks to live off of at a nearby gas station. So, here I am, a year later, Jeff has long since left the area, and I am living with Nick. He and I are now the owners of the video store, and work the same shift. Oh, and I ran into James earlier today while on my shift at the video store. Funny thing, he didn't know who I was, and when I brought up the situation from a year ago, he didn't have a clue what I was talking about. So, I got the scripts that James wrote of the conversation between James and I, showed them to him, and explained exactly what happened, and he still didn't remember. But regardless, he asked to keep the scripts, and mentioned that he was very intrigued in my story. I still wonder how he ever got those scripts...After all, he claimed he'd never seen them until I gave them to him...

#jeff the killer #horror #fanfiction #creepypasta #jtk #story

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captain-tch · 3 years

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Unforgettable (Glenn Rhee x fem!Reader)

The story of how your relationship with Glenn evolves. Inspired by this request.

"You're a fucking idiot." Those were the first words you had ever spoken to Glenn Rhee. The proclaimed 'fucking idiot' had walked into the high school in Atlanta with just a knife and backpack. He looked skittish, the colour in his face drained. A blood stain was splattered across his cheek.

"I -" he stammered, watching as you pulled your knife out of the walkers head only moments away from tearing into his neck. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," you turned down the hallway of the school, seeing more bodies shamble towards you. Why you thought it would be a good idea to scavenge here, you had no clue.

Snatching at the loop of his backpack, you pulled him backwards, dragging him down the hallway. He struggled to gain his footing, starting to jog behind you.

"Do you know where you're going?" He huffed, struggling to keep up with your fast pace.

"That's not exactly my top priority right now." You cast another glance over your shoulder. The dead were filing down the corridor with surprising speed, so crammed in they were shoulder to shoulder. Gulping, you subconsciously picked up the pace.

Your feet slapped the floor harshly, the sounds drowned out by the moans of the undead. The thumping of your heart pounding in your ears so hard, you swore this stranger and the walkers could hear it.

The walkers behind you were growing so close the overwhelming smell of rotting attacked your nostrils. Gagging, you pushed forward, trying to reach the end of the corridor.

When you saw a foot appear at the end of the corridor, you held out hope it was just a dead body. Or a person. Your heart sunk as the rest of the body followed the foot, a sunken face turning to meet yours. Praying, you hoped that it was a single walker and not an entire hoard. The last thing you needed was to get trapped with walkers with a man you didn't even know.

Whatever higher power existed must have been laughing at you as the exact thing you didn't want to happen, happened.

"Shit."

You tripped over your feet, taking a step back. You collapsed against the nearest wall, desperately testing the handles of doors. The man you saved got a similar idea, rushing ahead and trying any he could. The handles would only jiggle up and down, never yielding.

The smell was getting more intense now. Swallowing your bile, you tried to gather your thoughts, each door stamping your fate.

"In here!" The man shouted at you, alerting you to his body disappearing into a room a few paces from your own.

Ghosts of walker fingers lingered in your hair as you darted forwards, careening yourself into the room. He slammed the door shut, pushing his weight against it as the wood shook with the strength of walker hands.

You rushed to help him, groaning as your arms seemed to buckle against the strain of the door.

"So... what now?" The man huffed.

Your mind reeled. It felt like you had gone from the frying pan into the fire. Thoughts spiralled out of control - your arms would give way soon, walker hands only slowly inch in, and soon you would join them in haunting the school.

"Do you see any exits?"

Solemnly, the man shook his head. You sighed, resisting the urge to run a hand through your hair.

"The only way out is through this door." The man sent you a questioning look. "Think we could barge through them?"

"You really are a fucking idiot." You whispered beneath your breath. The man must have heard, a noise of protest leaving him. "Do you think you can hold this on your own? I'm going to have a look around."

"I'm not sure for how long."

"I'll be quick." You peeled away from the door, watching the door move an inch open. As soon as it had opened, the man had pushed back violently against it. The gap had disappeared.

You turned your focus to the room you were trapped in. This was the first time your gaze assessed your surroundings. A line of stalls greeted your vision, doors swinging open to reveal toilets. Some sinks were situated on the wall besides you, and a hand dryer long having lost power. Windows were high above your head, the panes hazy.

You hadn't realised before that you'd rushed into a toilet. Any hope you had started to fade away. When did you know a toilet to have a hidden exit. A bout of hysteria rushed through you - how apt, for you to be in a shitty situation and end up hiding in a bathroom.

Leaning against one of the stalls, you sighed, turning your head upwards. All of the sacrifices you had made to survive this long, the people you abandoned or avoided to survive: it was all for nothing. The one time you let your conscience guide your movements, you were going to die.

Maybe you should throw the man to the walkers. Let the walkers tear into him and hopefully give you a chance to dive through the herd.

Yeah, like you were going to murder him after saving his life. Fuck, having morals was one day going to get you killed.

Your eyes stared at the ceiling. Eyes widening, a smile grew on your face.

"How nimble are you?"

The man stared at you with an open mouth. "Huh?"

"I have an idea, but you're going to hate it."

The man's face grew grim. "We're going to die if we don't do anything."

"That's the spirit."

You rushed into the furthest cubicle, gesturing for the man to follow you. He visibly gulped.

"You need to trust me."

The inner turmoil was evident on his face. Even from the other end of the room, you could see how hard his arms were shaking, how tight he was having to clench his jaw to try and keep the door shut alone. If they didn't do anything soon, they would be ripped apart.

Pushing off of the door, he sprinted towards the cubicle. The door sprung open, banging loudly against the wall, walkers spilling into the small space. You could see the walkers close on the man's tail, and for one heart stopping moment, you thought you would have blood on your hands.

Thankfully he managed to pass the threshold with a moment to spare. Not wasting a moment, you slammed the stall closed, engaging the lock. The man's body was pressed close to yours, his breath on your skin. You wished the cubicle had been larger; at least then you could think straight.

Turning in the stall, you looked at the toilet, the toilet roll dispenser, and the gap at the top of the cubicle. Mentally you planned out your positioning. Taking a deep breath, you stepped onto the toilet, lifting another foot to the toilet roll dispenser. With a bit of effort you managed to shuffle over the stall, as quietly as you could, falling into the next one. Before any walkers could acknowledge you, you crept forward, closing the stall door as quietly as you could, locking it shut.

You waited a tense moment, hearing the low huffs of the man inching closer. His face appeared at the top of the stall. You gestured a hand out, helping him balance as he jumped to the ground as softly as he could. Movements fluid, you and the stranger scaled the toilet stalls like snakes. When you reached the final one, you peeked over the stall.

The walkers were all congregated by the furthest stall. If you timed this one right, if you were both silent and quick, it could work.

This plan relied on no more walkers coming through the open door. You hoped that unlike your other prayers, this one was heard, luck for once being on your side. Gracefully you pulled yourself over the toilet stall, jumping to the floor with the smallest smacking noise. The moment your feet were on the ground your knife was out, the man hot on your trail.

Sucking in a lungful of air, you bolted out of the toilets. The pair of you stumbled into the hallway, shutting the door behind you. Glenn found an abandoned broomstick, and with a bit of jigging you managed to slide it through the door handle. The door started to buck under the demanding hands of the undead. The pair of you gawked at the door, as if waiting for it to break down.

It stood steady - you'd made it.

Your shoulders loosened. A breath you hadn't realised you'd been holding slipped past your lips. You shared a disbelieving smile with your partner in crime, leaning on the wall.

The rest of the trip passed with little incident. You decided to try to grab some supplies, you had nearly died for it after all. A few cans of food, even some antibiotics.

The man lingered by your side. You didn't question it, basking in his presence. It was nice to have someone to respond to your voice, someone to watch your back when you weren't paying attention. Most of all, it was nice to just have someone there. You had been alone for so long it felt as if you were the only person left in the world. Now, you weren't so alone.

He scavenged some supplies himself, filling his backpack. With a satisfied smile and weighty pack, he headed for the exit of the school, you by his side.

The two of you stepped out of the gates. You blinked, and suddenly you could feel your textbooks in hand, fellow students rushing by. You blinked again, the memory fading.

The man stood in front of you, hands secured around the straps of his backpack. "Thank you, for saving my life."

You shrugged. "It was nothing."

You sent him a small smile, slinging your fingers through the loops of your jeans. As you moved to walk away, a hand reached out, touching your elbow. Instinctively you shook off the touch, taking a step back.

You pretended to not see the hurt pass his face.

"Look, I have a camp. We have people, water, food, weapons. It's safe."

"I've been told not to accept offers like this from strangers."

The man snorted, shaking his head. "After what we just went through, I wouldn't call us strangers."

"I don't even know your name."

He struck his hand out in the open air between them. "I'm Glenn."

You looked at the hand between you. Shaking his hand cemented a bond between the two of you, a deal bound. Once this man knew your name you knew you couldn't walk away. Being a nameless stranger made abandonment easier. You could return to sleeping with one eye open, talking to shadows that would never respond. Your body slumped at the mere thought.

You were tired of being alone.

After a beat, you gripped his hand. "Y/N."

The embers of the camp fire drifted into the night sky. On quiet nights like these, with the crickets chirping, smoke curling in your nostrils and sticking to your hair, you couldn't help but stare up at the stars. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine the last few weeks hadn't happened.

You were grateful for this place. For the camp that Glenn had brought you to. There were so many people that you believed that you could always speak and someone would hear. After being in silence for weeks, it was nice. While it was a blessing, it was a curse. The noise of them milling around, talking, living, was almost like gun fire in your ears. You were extremely thankful that you could take this time to be alone, to enjoy nature's silence and revel in the safety founded here.

"Hey." Glenn appeared behind you, his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets. You sent him a small smile, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. If it had been anyone else, you're pretty sure you would have just gotten up and left.

"Hey."

He nodded to the log you were sat on, where you were letting your hands enjoy the heat generated by the lick of the flames. "Can I join you?"

You shuffled over, giving him room to sit down. There was just enough room for the pair of you, and when he sat down his shoulders brushed yours. Your heart skipped a beat.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Before." You didn't tell him you weren't referring to before the apocalypse, more so when you were alone. The thought of offending him for almost yearning for the quiet you used to hate made chills spread all over you. "Do you ever think things will go back to normal?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I want to hope, but..."

He trailed off. You sensed the direction of the sentence. Hope was pointless when what had happened had cemented itself into history. It was foolish to believe all of this could be reversed.

He turned to you. He was so close that you could make out the firelight dancing across his irises, the richness of the chocolate colour captivating you. "Would you want it to? Go back to normal?"

"I don't know..." You shook your head, mind casting back to what your life had been like before. "I worked a job I hated, lived in a shitty apartment, had no sense of purpose. I was letting time pass by and doing nothing with it. And after the things I've seen, I don't think I could ever go back to that."

Glenn nodded. You could see the ghosts haunting him.

"Would you? Want it all to go back to how it was?"

Cogs turned in his head. He was silent for a long time. You didn't blame him, it was a heavy question. Everyone missed something from before, but the thought of going back to how things had been was far too idealistic. Even if a switch was flipped and everything was fixed, no one would ever be the same.

"I miss my family. I don't really miss the rest. I never realised just how unhappy I was, with my life." He took his cap off, running a hand through his hair. His eyes moved to the fire. "Sorry, that got dark quickly."

"Don't apologise, I'm... glad you can talk to me." You nudged his shoulder with your own. "Sorry I asked."

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying each others company. You had your head tilted towards the ebony sky, taking in the stars above you with awe. You had no idea Glenn was looking at you that very same way now.

"But I do really miss the movies."

Glenn frowned. "The movies?"

"Yeah, the popcorn just tasted better there."

Glenn looked at you as if you had a grown a second head. You turned to him, lips curling up in amusement. Before you could help it, a laugh erupted from your body. Seconds later he was hunched over, laughing hysterically. You two didn't stop until Shane came out to reprimand you.

Merle Dixon was a jackass. This was a well established fact amongst the camp, and everyone with a brain cell knew to stay as far away from him as possible. He was a loose canon, acting on impulses and speaking his mind.

It explained why he wasn't a big fan with the ladies.

All the women had experienced an inappropriate comment from him; for you, it was especially bad. Like now, the man was harassing you while you were trying to help set up a tent for the newcomers, the Morales.

"Anyone ever tell ya - "

The spark of anger that had been growing in Merle's presence combusted into an inferno. You threw the tent pole to the ground, spinning on your foot. You stormed up to Merle, getting in his face. The smirk on his face only grew at the distance.

"If you tell me another damn thing I will shove this tent pole up your ass." You sneered, his unmoving expression only fuelling your anger further.

"Ya'd like tha' wouldn't ya."

"Fuck you Merle." You shook your head, moving to walk away. His hand snatched at your wrist tethering you in place. You aggressively tried to shrug out of his grip.

"Sounds like a date."

Shivers ran down your spine.

"Merle, cut it out." Glenn appeared in the corner of your vision. "Just leave Y/N be."

"I was just bein' friend-"

Before your mind could catch up, your fist was flying at Merle's face. You felt a crack under your knuckles, an explosion pain lighting up your being. Merle stumbled back. His hand flew to his nose, now gushing blood. You moved towards him to add a finishing blow, a pair of arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you back.

"What the hell, ya crazy bitch!"

With a great sense of satisfaction, and pulsing hand, you smirked. "I was just being friendly."

Merle's face contorted. He lunged towards you. Someone snatched at Merle, pulling him back. Daryl stood there, silently seething at his brother. "Wha' the hell ya think you're doing?"

"Teachin' this bitch a lesson."

"Jus' leave the girl alone, Merle." Daryl let go of his brother, shaking his head. Merle surprisingly obeyed his orders, turning to fix his gaze on you.

Against your better instincts, you gulped. Regret started to wash over you. While the throbbing in your hand brought you a sense of achievement, fear struck you. Merle was the kind of man to hold a grudge.

"Come on." Your protector (or Merle's, depending on how you viewed it), gently tugged at your arm. "Let's get that checked out."

You weren't shocked to see Glenn had been the one to hold you back. You let him lead the way into the RV, taking a seat at the couch. Watching Glenn rummage around the first aid kit, butterflies fluttered in your stomach. Whenever you seemed to need him, he was there. He was like your guardian angel, watching you before you even knew there was something to watch out for.

Glenn walked back towards you with the first aid kit. You quickly dropped your eyes, biting your lip. He sat across from you, opening the kit and frowning at what was in it. "I have no idea how to use any of this."

You chuckled. "Not exactly reassuring, Dr Glenn."

He averted his gaze quickly, fixing his attention on the kit. He sighed, rifling through the contents. "I'm not sure there's much here that can help."

He turned, looking down at your hand. It had started to swell slightly, the knuckles tender. "Can I?"

Wordlessly you nodded, watching as he lifted up your hand. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling his skin touch yours. Your eyes followed him as he started dragging a finger over your knuckles. You winced, a flare of pain igniting in you. He immediately drew his finger back.

"Does it feel broken?" He whispered.

"I don't think so."

"When you punch a man as thick headed as Dixon, that's lucky."

He was still holding onto your hand. You silently wished for this moment to freeze forever, his skin touching yours, his eyes connected to yours. It felt like you were in your own bubble of time. Your body begged for him to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Glenn cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning red. He let go of your hand, brushing his hands on his jeans. He sent you an awkward smile.

"You should, um," Glenn licked his lips, not looking at you. "Take it easy. Doctor's orders."

He darted quickly out of the RV, leaving the feeling of his skin on yours a memory.

Blood. Blood was everywhere. It was splattered on the tents, on the dirt, on your hands. This was supposed to be a safe place, yet the dead still attacked anyway. Your arm was so tired. Your knife was slick in your hands. You felt like you would topple over at any moment.

Gunfire exploded around you. In mere minutes the walkers were wiped out. A pair of familiar hands wrapped around your forearms.

"Y/N, Y/N, are you okay?" Glenn's face came into view. All you could make out was the blood.

"Are you bit?"

All you could muster was a shake of your head. He breathed a large breath, leaning into you. "Thank God."

You two stayed like that for a while. You couldn't fully register the feeling of Glenn's body wrapped around yours. Your body was frozen, unable to reciprocate the hug. All you could see was the walkers, tearing into the people you had started to consider friends, consider some of them family. All you could see was the horror on people's face as loved ones fell to the hands of the undead. All you could see was the endless wave of walkers coming towards you, your body acting on muscle memory as you struck down each one.

All you could think about was how easily it could have been you.

It could have been you being buried in one of the community graves. It could have been you succumbing to the walker bite and attacking the people you cared so deeply for.

The conversation you had with Glenn a while back struck you.

I was letting time slip by and doing nothing about it.

This man, holding onto you as if you were keeping him grounded to reality, this man was slowly becoming someone you couldn't live without. He was someone who couldn't touch you with a trail of electric shocks following it, someone who would smile and your world would explode.

You didn't want to die and never know what it was like to love Glenn Rhee.

Now that the facade of safety had been shattered, the group bundled into the cars, grimly staring outside the windows as the CDC grew closer. The dead bodies, both still and moving, steadily grew the closer you got to the city. Instinctively you reached out, gripping Glenn's hand.

He froze under your touch, staring down at your hand as if it was an alien. It took him a while; he interlinked his fingers with yours. He held onto you the entire journey to the CDC, squeezing tightly when they were stood outside the unopening doors.

Rick was going crazy, throwing himself at the doors. You had already withdrawn, loosening your grip on Glenn. Disappointment crested his face. You swapped his hand for your trusty knife, raising it in front of you. The walkers were growing closer and closer.

Hope was sucked from you all.

Fuel was wasted. Time was long gone. Patience was wearing thin. As a group you all retreated, succumbing to the crushing defeat. Rick powered on, ignoring the group's calls to calm down.

Blinding light burned your eyes. The door was opening, a stranger appearing from the light. You had to blink several times, trying to rationalise what had happened in your mind. Maybe it was a mirage. Maybe you had been dead this whole time, your brain concocting this entire situation.

Maybe it was real.

You all rushed in marvelling at the building. Lights had never been so fascinating to you, nor air conditioning. If heaven was real, it was this place.

The man revealed himself to be Dr Edwin Jenner, the only remaining scientist at the CDC. You could see Rick's shoulders slump as he realised his hunch about the CDC having a cure was a pipe dream.

He quickly skirted you all into a side room, brandishing a needle. He proclaimed that he needed to take your blood, just to make sure you weren't infected. You were pretty sure it was because he could use it for his mysterious science shit - you shrugged, begrudgingly complying. The man had let you in after all.

One by one the group had their blood taken. Andrea nearly toppled over. You gulped. Your heart started to beat erratically the more people he'd gone through, and now, you were next. On shaky feet, you stumbled to the seat, collapsing into it. You purposefully turned your head in the opposite direction, trying to distract yourself. Your eyes found Glenn, his focus already on you. A bashful smile crossed his lips. He gave you a thumbs up.

He could always tell when you were scared.

Just as soon as it had started, it was over. The only reminder of what had happened was a small pinprick of pain lingering.

Jenner gave you a tour of the building. Your jaw dropped in awe as he showed around the bedrooms, the thought of sleeping on a mattress making you drool. When he told you they had hot water, you could have kissed the man.

He left you all alone to settle in, advising you that he would start making dinner.

"Wow..." You sighed, looking into the room you'd chosen. "When was the last time you slept on a mattress?"

Glenn scrunched up his nose, leaning on the door frame. "Does an air mattress count?"

You snort. From your experience with an air mattress, as soon as you laid on it, it just deflated. For all the help it did, you might as well be asleep on the floor. "Definitely not."

"I can't remember, is that bad?"

You shook your head. "Well, I can definitely tell it's been a while since you've had a shower."

"Yeah, and you smell like roses."

Laughing, you hit his arm lightly. Your heart jumped at the slight contact, begging for you to do it again. You crossed your arms, tucking your arms tight into your armpits, almost like you were physically restraining yourself. "Yeah, dead roses."

Glenn laughed, shaking his head. He left you be, departing to have a shower himself. You all but jumped into the shower, turning the water on. You relished the warm water rushing down your back, washing away all of the losses, all the blood, all of the pain. It exposed the skin beneath, bruises you hadn't even acknowledged having bloomed on your skin. All you could do was watch as the water slowly turned from dark pink to clear.

Fresh, you jumped out of the shower, getting changed as quickly as you could. You could feel yourself almost hug the clothes - it had been a while since you were both clean and wearing fresh clothes. It was a luxury you never realised you had.

Wandering out into the hall, you knocked on Glenn's door. You waited a beat before entering, freezing as soon as you walked in.

Water glistened on his body. Droplets slipped off of his hair and down his body, trailing down, down... Your eyes followed the trail, almost embarrassed at the disappointment you felt when you realised he was wearing his jeans.

"Y/N?"

Clearing your throat, you tried to avert your eyes. "We should probably hurry up, dinner will be ready soon. Don't want to keep them waiting."

Nodding, he threw on a nearby shirt, gesturing for you to lead the way. You tried to hide your disappointment once again at seeing him cover himself up.

You led the way to the canteen, taking a seat across from him. A glass of wine in front of you, you gently sipped, eyes drifting closed. You savoured the dry drink, swirling the liquid in the glass. At this time, Glenn had finished his.

Laughing, smiling, and beaming, it didn't seem that there was an unhappy soul in the room. You merely watched, taking in how people started to get more and more boisterous the emptier their glasses got, the colour adding to their cheeks. You were being deafened with the sounds of joy. Unlike that time at the fire, where you had gone to escape the noise, you let it drown you.

Glenn hiccuped, swaying in his seat. From his dazed smile, you knew he was drunk.

"We should get you to bed." You got to your feet, gently lifting Glenn out of his seat. He protested for a minute, his voice slurred and unintelligible. He fell into your arms, clinging to you desperately.

Sending an apologetic smile to everyone, you half carried Glenn back to his room. A few wolf whistles chased your back. You resisted the urge to let your mind wander to that place.

"Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?" Glenn stuttered so much over his words it took a minute for what he said to process. Frowning, from the corner of your eye you could see Glenn's finger reaching up to your cheek, lightly pinching it. "Have I?"

"No, you haven't." You convinced yourself it was the drink talking. Everyone said things they didn't mean with alcohol coursing through their veins.

"I should have. I should tell you every day. Starting yesterday."

"Okay Glenn."

You nudged the door to his room open, leading him to his bed. You opened up the duvet, turning to help guide him into it.

He was right behind you. You almost jumped out of your skin, heart beating erratically. He was so close that you could smell the shampoo that he'd used. There wasn't an inch of space between you. You couldn't see him swaying, or the dazed look on his face. It was almost like your presence had sobered him up. He was looking down at you with such an intensity it robbed you of your breath.

He leaned down, his lips by your ear. His voice was so soft that you almost melted. "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded. Your body thrummed in excitement as his lips got closer and closer. Panic suddenly consumed your body. What if you had forgotten how to kiss? What if you accidentally clashed your teeth with his?

Glenn seemed oblivious to your impending panic, securing his lips to yours. As soon as you connected, all anxieties faded away. His lips were cracked, the roughness counteracted by how gentle he was being. Slowly he moved his lips against yours, hands lingering by your sides. You could taste the wine on his lips, getting intoxicated on the feel of him.

You matched his rhythm, pushing yourself closer to him. You had to pull away, gasping for breath.

"Wow." Glenn smiled down at you, hands finding their way onto your hips. "That was nice."

You nodded, unable to speak. Butterflies were swarming in your stomach and you're fairly certain he could hear how fast your heart was beating. Euphoria was coursing through, you leaned against him, pressing your cheek against his chest. You could hear his heart thumping as fast as yours.

Glenn yawned, the movement nudging your head. You pulled away, brushing his hair from his eyes. "Go to bed, you must be exhausted."

Almost like a puppet with the strings cut, Glenn collapsed into bed, eyes snapping closed. You giggled at the scene, closing the door softly behind you.

That night, you slept the best you had in weeks, a smile plastered on your face.

The following morning, you felt awake. Your group was in a safe place, with food, water a shower, and you had kissed someone you wanted to hold for so long.

You had to resist the urge to start whistling when you made your way into the kitchen, heart skipping a beat at the sight of Glenn, hunched over on his chair. He was leaning into the table, groaning. You contemplated going over to him, patting him on the back and making sure he was okay.

He brought this on yourself, you thought with a smile. Let the drunkard feel it.

"How much did you drink Glenn?" Dale asked, concerned.

"I don't remember." Glenn's voice was muffled. "i don't remember anything from last night."

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. Last night, he seemed like he knew what was going on. He was in the moment, he was there. He was nothing like the tipsy self he had been with the group. You were naive to think that he was more sober than he actually was.

You tried not to hold it against Glenn, he couldn't control what he could remember after drinking that much. Maybe it was your fault, for not picking up on how drunk he was. Maybe then, you would have turned him down. He wouldn't have remembered it anyway. A small creep of insecurity sneaked into your mind - maybe if you been better he would have remembered. You shook the thought from your mind, knowing it was irrational; it still didn't stop the affect it had on you.

Controlling your facial expression, you carried on as usual, fighting the lump growing in your throat. You took a seat at the table, the furthest from Glenn, watching as T-Dogg shovelled some eggs onto your plate. Thanking him, you focused on the food on your plate.

"How bad was he last night Y/N?" Rick joked, "Did he manage to get to his room without falling over?"

Glenn lifted his face from his hands. The realisation dawned on him that you took to him to his room last night. Your cheeks burned with the idea of the thoughts that must be running through his head.

"I had to carry him to bed."

The group erupted into laughter. Glenn covered his ears with his hands, groaning loudly. You only smiled weakly, playing with the eggs on your plate. The bubble of insecurity had started to grow larger, so much so you struggled to swallow your food.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you offered Sophia the remainder of your food. "I need to go lay down. I don't feel too good."

Without another word you walked towards your room, giving up the fight against your emotions. A singular tear trekked down your cheek. You scrubbed at it, pushing your way into your room and closing it shut.

You fell against the door, falling down it. When you kissed Glenn, it was the happiest you had felt in so long. For him to not remember it... It winded you. You knew there was a logical reason for it, a reason you kept trying to repeat almost like a mantra. Yet a tiny voice at the back of your mind kept poisoning the rationality.

A soft knock echoed on your door. "You okay?"

Venom laced your voice before you could help. "Fuck off Glenn."

"What's the matter?"

"I said fuck off."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." Glenn sighed so loudly that you could hear it from the other side of the door. "The others said you took me to bed... Did something happen?"

Furious, you sprung to your feet, rushing to the door. You threw it open with such force that Glenn, who must have been leaning on it, stumbled on his feet.

"Did something happen? God, you're so oblivious." You shook your head, unable to rein in the anger unleashing from you. "Last night I took you back, and you kissed me. You," you jabbed his chest, enunciating each word. "Kissed. Me."

Glenn gawped at you. He tried to regain his composure, anxiousness speaking into his voice. "Did you not want me to kiss you?"

"Of course I wanted you to kiss me you fucking idiot! I'm angry because you didn't remember. That was something I've wanted for the longest time and -" your voice betrayed you, a hitch ruining the flow. You swallowed, praying he couldn't see the glassiness in your eyes. "Look, I'm not someone people remember. I guess that's why it hurt me so much."

"Woah," Glenn reached for your arms, you shied away. "You really have no idea how amazing you are, do you?"

"Glenn, please, there's no need to lie to me."

He reeled back, like he had been slapped. Anger distorted his features, and for a second, fear struck you. You'd never seen him like this. "Lies? Y/N, you are one of the most memorable people I know. You're so smart, so brave, so caring and wonderful."

You scoffed, ashamed of the tears now streaming down your cheeks. Your inner demons rebuffed all of the comments Glenn made, twisting his kind words into knives. "Thanks Glenn, really, but I'm not any of those things. I accepted that a long time ago."

Glenn reached out, grabbing your shoulders. He tapped his finger under your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. They held a passion you'd never seen. "Who else do you know climbed over toilet stalls and crept behind walkers to escape the bathroom they'd been trapped in? I thought I was going to die in there!"

You tried to interrupt; Glenn kept barrelling onwards.

"Who else wouldn't take shit from Merle Dixon, so broke his nose? Who else cared so deeply for those who died at camp, you felt their losses so real you cried as you dug the graves. But you kept digging. Who else told me of all things they missed before, they missed the movies, because of the popcorn."

You let his words sink in. You never realised he had been paying that much attention to you, to think this highly of you. With each thing he said, you felt your self doubts ebb away. They would never completely disappear, but he surely helped make them less villainous.

His grip on his shoulders had tightened, his gaze never leaving yours. "All I can think about is your strength, your smile that lights up a room, you. I'm so sorry I didn't remember. I wish I did."

A few beats of silence passed between the two of you. A small smile broke out onto your face. "You're a massive lightweight."

Glenn visibly slumped. The relief of seeing you smile made it all worth it.

"Yeah, I should have not drank that much last night." He ran a hand through his hair, leaning towards you. "I've been wanting to kiss you for a really long time."

"Maybe you should do it again."

"Maybe I should."

He leaned closer, closing the distance between you quickly. You succumbed under his touch, letting his lips guide you. Sparks exploded and you never wanted to stop touching him, indulging in his touch.

He drew away, gasping for breath, resting his forehead on yours. "You're unforgettable, Y/N."

the walking dead masterlist

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd x reader #twd #glenn rhee #glenn x reader #glenn rhee x reader

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seroh · 3 years

Text

STILL INTO YOU.

iwaizumi, oikawa, matsukawa, hananaki.

› part one: all i wanted was you.

— the one where they want you back, but you've moved on.

› angst.

GN.READER ; POST BREAK UP.

notes — repost from my old blog.

IWAIZUMI H.

Ever since you left, there’s been an uncomfortable feeling bubbling inside of Iwaizumi. He wakes up every morning hoping to see you next to him, only to be disappointed when he finds his new lover instead. He gets home and your name almost falls from his lips, before he sees them sitting on his couch. Guilt eats him up inside, specially when they smile at him so bright and loving.

It takes his new lover leaving him, saying he keeps calling your name in his sleep and professing his love for you, for him to realize how much he truly misses you. How bad he really fucked up.

Iwaizumi finds himself alone again, the echo of the door shutting closed still ringing in his ears, and he can’t take it. He needs to see you again.

When the bell rings at 2 a.m., the last thing you expect to see is Iwaizumi. It’s been months, after all, almost a year. And yet there he is, eyes puffy and red and tired. There’s a pained expression in his face, but he still lights up when you open the door and face him.

It takes him one look to realize you’re wearing someone else’s shirt, and as soon as he does his mind starts running wild. Is it his? Did he forget it at your place? Does this mean you miss him? Does he still have a chance? A small, flickering flame of hope ignites inside of him.

Then a second voice talks from somewhere in your apartment, asking who’s at the door, and soon a man emerges behind you. Iwaizumi’s eyes go directly to his hand resting on your hip.

“Who is this, babe?” The question is like a raging wind, killing the little flame in his heart.

“No one,” you reply, eyes cold in his direction as you close the door on his face, and all of the memories that accompany him..

Iwaizumi spends the next few moments standing in front of your door, trying to process the pain in his heart. It’s over. It’s over, he knows it is, and yet he can’t help the urge to knock on your door again and beg for you to take him back.

But it’s over, and there’s nothing he can do to fix what he so carelessly broke.

OIKAWA T.

It’s easy for Oikawa to forget about what he lost while he’s all the way across the world. His new lover’s company proves to be a great distraction, one that consumes his nights and brightens his days. One that drowns the pain in his heart and makes it all disappear.

But then he finds himself back in his homeland, and he can’t do anything to prevent the surge of memories that hit him as soon as he sets foot in Japan. Everywhere he looks, everywhere he goes, the remnants of your love haunt him. Something as simple as an ad for that the brand of chocolate you loved has him wondering if you still like it as much as you used to. Does it still bring warmth to your heart when you’re feeling down? Should he buy some for you in case he sees you?

Except, he’s sure he won’t see you. Ever again. He repeats that over and over again, trying to resist the temptation to find you. In spite of the growing hope filling his heart, he’s still not prepared to see you again.

Oikawa spots you on the court, talking to someone his eyes don’t even register. He takes a step forward, like in a trance. Eyes locked on your smiling, laughing face. Fingers twitching with the need to touch you, hug you. Heart overflowing with all of the feelings he tried so hard to bury. He truly feels like his teenage self all over again, holding your favorite chocolate as he pours his heart out for you.

He’s a few steps away when you notice him. Your eyes widen in surprise before settling into a resentful kind of pain that makes his heart ache. Still, he puts on a smile, as wide and bright as he can muster, and puts on the whole “It’s been so long! I didn’t expect to see you here” act.

“Well, of course I am.” You say, looking as uncomfortable as he’s ever seen you. “My boyfriend’s in Japan’s team.” The words bring an end to Oikawa’s smile. Almost in slow motion, he sees you gesture to the person next to you, and only then does the man register in his visual camp. Begrudgingly, he shakes the hand the man offers him before making up an excuse to go back to his team.

His hand shoots up to his chest, right above his heart, and he can almost feel it break into a million pieces.

MATSUKAWA I.

Matsukawa thinks it’s odd, how much he seems to miss your company after you’re gone. He used to think familiarity was dull, boring; but now finds himself missing it whenever his new lover asks what he wants from the coffee shop, when you always knew his order by heart, or when they sleep on his side of the bed, or when they don’t even bat an eye at the same jokes you used to love.

Not even the fire of a new love can calm the restless feeling.

He first realizes how much he truly misses you when he sees you in that coffee shop he knows you love. He’d gone there under the pretense of it being the nearest one, secretly hoping to find you already sitting at one of the tables. Maybe he’d talk to you, ask how you’ve been and if you’d mind it if he joined you. Maybe you wouldn't mind, and you would smile at him as you gestured to the seat in front of you.

Maybe you would want to see him again afterwards.

By luck or fate, he does see you; and his heart starts racing after his eyes land on you. However, things don't the way he expects them to happen. There’s no spark in your eyes when they look his way, no warm smile greeting him, nothing. And it hurts to be met with such disregard, but what makes it worse, what marks the final stab to his heart, is the man sitting next to you. He has his arm resting on the back of your seat, thumb darting out to collect the crumbs clinging to your lips. And you’re laughing and smiling so much, a sweet and adoring spark in your eyes he recognizes immediately. It’s the same way you used to look at him before he broke your heart.

Then your eyes meet his, and there’s such indifference behind them. There’s not even hate or resentment in your expression, just plain indifference, and he knows he’s lost you for ever.

Matsukawa freezes. Can’t even move a finger as he watches the gentle exchange. The other man throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. Your form presses snugly against his, a soft laugh escaping your lips. Only the barista’s calling of his name manages to snap him out of it, after several attempts.

He reaches for his coffee with a numb feeling spreading throughout his body. Leaves the shop without sparing you a second glance, too scared he’d start crying if he has to see you with him again, if he has to see how happy he makes you.

HANAMAKI T.

He stumbles upon you while he’s out at a club with Matsukawa. He’s been unreasonably irritable lately, upset, tired, agitated. His friend, as the caring man he is, decided to take him out for the night, thinking some stranger’s love might help improve his mood.

But Hanamaki isn’t interested. He isn’t interested in the pretty ones wearing next to nothing, nor the attractive ones sending him burning looks. He just isn’t interested, hasn’t been for months now, and he can’t figure out why.

He’s finally free, free of you and your nagging and the grip you had around him. Can finally go out and lose himself in alcohol and strangers’ love without a trace of guilt coming back to bite him.

He’s free, so why can’t he enjoy this newfound freedom?

The answer hits him when his eyes wander to the bar, landing on you like they’re being pulled in your direction. Hanamaki’s blood starts to boil as he sees the way you’re dressed, the way you shamelessly flirt with a man he’s never seen before. A man who’s too close to you, so much he doubts there’s any space left in between your bodies.

The man leans to press a kiss to your lips, and you seem to curl and melt around him with such ease. Hanamaki can’t bear to look any longer, can’t tear his eyes away either. Something seems to click in his head, and he’s taking the first step before he even realizes what he’s doing. But once he does, he can’t stop himself. His heart burns and stings and bleeds hurt.

Why does it hurt?

A hand falls on his shoulder when he’s nothing but a few meters away from you, fist ready to start a fight with that stranger that dared to touch you. When he looks back, Hanamaki’s furious eyes meet Matsukawa’s serious ones. “Haven’t you done enough?” The question is harsh and venomous, not a trace of friendliness in it. He looks back from your smiling face to his friend’s stern expression.

The heavy weight of realization finally hits him. He loves you. He loves you and fucked it all up because he couldn’t handle it. Tears begin to pool behind his eyes, a scream threatens to tear his throat apart. Matsukawa gives a relieved, sympathetic sigh before pulling him out of the club and into his car. Hanamaki sobs and cries and laments everything he ever did to you, and Matsukawa can’t do anything but listen to his friend drown in his own mistakes.

#iwaizumi angst #oikawa angst #matsukawa angst #hanamaki angst #iwaizumi headcanons #oikawa headcanons #matsukawa headcanons #hanamaki headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #matsukawa x reader #hanamaki x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader

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