#fateslittlerambles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

callsignfate · 1 year

Text

Grief...

(Tw: Death, talk of death, angst. Viewer discretion is advised. Context: You die, they watch it happen, and the events after.)

◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇

Tears blurred her vision as she gazed down at you, her heart aching with an unbearable heaviness. In that frozen moment, the world around her seemed to fade into oblivion, leaving only your lifeless form before her. Your stillness, the absence of your presence, was a gaping void that threatened to swallow her whole.

Her trembling fingers traced the contours of your face, as if trying to memorize every detail, every imperfection, every nuance of the person who had meant the world to her. The gentle touch of her hand on your skin was a poignant contrast to the lifelessness that had settled over you like a cold blanket.

The pain in her chest, the crushing weight of loss, was almost unbearable. She clung to you, unwilling to let go, as if by sheer force of will she could bring you back to life, see your smile once more, hear your laughter and snide comments fill the air. But deep down, she knew it was impossible.

Her tears that had fallen freely slowly stopped, each drop a testament to the profound dread that had enveloped her. She couldn't comprehend a world without you, and yet here she was, forced to face the unbearable reality. Her once helpless sobs and pleas for you to wake up had stopped. Her hysterics ending as fast as they had started.

Her shoulders, tense and locked up from her emotions, now slumped down as her breathing evened out into a slower, deepened pace. Her body was exhausted, wracked with endless emotions threatening to show themselves.

The sound of planes overhead stirred her from the depths of her grief, a cruel reminder that life continued its relentless march forward, indifferent to her pain. She pointed at them, just as you once did, a simple gesture that carried with it a universe of memories and emotions.

"Look, a plane," she whispered, her voice fragile and trembling, a shadow of its former self. It was a voice that had lost its everything, the one who had given it warmth and meaning. She felt as if she was now alone.

The weight of your body, still propped up on her legs, felt both comforting and unbearable. She couldn't bring herself to let go, not yet. Her trembling hands reached for your dog tags, handling them with the utmost care, as though they held the essence of your being. As if they held your soul. Pulling them slowly from under your gear, over your neck and head felt like she was trying not to stir you awake with her movements.

Days turned into an endless blur of gray, the house around her an empty shell, a haunting reminder of your absence. She had called it "our home" before, but now it was nothing more than walls and memories, void of the life and love that had once filled its every corner.

Her anger, a fierce, vile thing, born from grief, shattered the fragile stillness of her solitude. The glass that was once full of bitter and warm alcohol now flew through the air before hitting the wall of the dark kitchen. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the house, a symphony of pain and frustration.

"Why did you take the bullet for me?!" she screamed, her voice a desperate plea to the void. "Why?! This is worse than dying! It's not fair! You understand that, don't you?! We were supposed to do so much more. You had more time. We had more time!"

She turned and looked around the house as if you were there, as if you were the walls. She yelled and screamed as if you could hear her desperate, angry emotions that forced their way past the unrelenting sadness.

Her rage was replaced by a crushing sense of helplessness as she knelt down to pick up the shattered glass, her hands trembling with a mix of emotions. In the midst of her despair, a ghostly image of you appeared before her, kneeling beside her and offering comfort from a past memory.

"You cut yourself? I have a band-aid, don't worry, wait right here," you said with a smile, and then you vanished like a fleeting memory into thin air.

She looked down at her finger, where a small cut had drawn a drop of blood. She laughed, a sad, bitter sound that held a multitude of emotions. The grief was like a heavy stone on her chest, and she wiped away her tears with the back of her forearm.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with gratitude and sorrow. She stood up slowly, feeling a cold flat piece of metal against her chest.

The dog tags found their place on her neck, the same day you died, the cool metal pressing gently against her skin. As they settled into their home, they created a soft, comforting sound as they lightly clinked together. These tags, once worn by you, now served as a constant reminder of your presence, your love, and the memories you had created together.

With the weight of your memory resting close to her heart, she stood in the quiet emptiness of the house. The silence was a stark contrast to the vibrant life you had once shared. Yet, in that silence, she saw the last thing you had touched on your way out of the house on that day.

Her gaze drifted to the kitchen island, where your ring lay. It was a symbol of your love and commitment, a token of the life you had built together. She picked it up and held it in her hand, feeling its weight, its significance. She read over the engraving that was hidden usually against your skin. "Amor meus in aeterno."

◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇ (Edited 10/4/23)

#mw2 valeria x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria mw2 #kate laswell x reader #valeria cod #valeria garza #valeria garza cod #kate laswell #valeria garza x reader #laswell #farah karim x fem!reader #fateslittlerambles #farah karim x reader #farah x reader #farah karim #Spotify

99 notes · View notes

callsignfate · 7 months

Note

Rules for submitting? And when are you going to do another event?

-🎉

Rules for submitting!

¤ Don't ask for any overly personal information. If I wanted you to know, I'd tell you. I won't get mad, but I will skip the question or ignore you. (Ex: "Where do you live?" Will be ignored, "How are you, how tall are you, do you like XYZ, Ect." Will not.)

¤Compliments/nick names are okay! Call me whatever I don't mind.

¤ If you are anon and put an emoji, I'll 100% call you that, and I'll make sure to put a taken anon list on my pinned post. If you don't, I'll just call you anon.

¤ Please be 18+ if you are going to request anything or really outwardly interact with me or my posts. I don't have the time with college and taking care of my mom to look through every blog and find out your age. Most people can lie either way. I do post fluff, but some of my content can be disturbing or harmful to viewers. Every post is basically "Viewers discretion is advised" it's more for your safety. I rarely interact with my followers personally, if ever. I do thank you all for following/interacting with my posts, but don't DM me or ask for any 18+ content under 18.

¤ If you request something smut related, I kinda suck at writing smut, so it might take longer or just never get posted, I'm terrified of writing it terribly, I am practicing in my off time when I get the chance but I may take some time.

¤If your ask takes what seems like forever, I'm sorry. I am currently recovering RSV, I have college classes and studies to attend to, and I just have limited time to write, so when I do, it's usually for an event coming up. Your request might be used in an event.

¤If you aren't requesting and just want to talk, that's okay! Asking about future events and posts is easy to respond to, so dont feel bad!

¤If I go missing, your request is safe in my inbox, and the minute I can get to them, I will. Requesting really helps me keep writing, I often run out of ideas, so feel free to send in requests or ask for me to continue a series I've forgotten about/ haven't posted in a while. I love seeing comments and requests genuinely.

(I will be posting the plans for this year's events soon!)

#fateslittlerambles

1 note · View note