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#i am shaking you by the shoulders do you UNDERSTAND
blimpintime · 3 days
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a jar of wind
part two
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Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to an end.
warnings: none besides being slightly unedited.
word count: 1.4k
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4 months later 
Dearest Wynnie Lara,
I hope you are doing well, we miss you very dearly in the Night Court but understand you leaving after such harsh things were spoken to you. I wanted to invite you to Nyx’s first birthday celebration. He does miss you so much. (As do we).
After finding out what Azriel and the other two had said to you I almost blew up their homes with the help of my sisters. 
Elain misses you very much, even though she writes letters to you weekly, you and her seemed to help each other heal after everything happened to you both. She won't tell anybody where you have gone so I will be handing this letter to her in hopes it reaches you. 
We miss you so much, and I hate that the boys said those harsh things to you for no reason. You are not a bother, or suffocating, you light up every space you go into which is so refreshing, I do not want you to feel forced to come home (Nesta feels otherwise, she misses you so much she almost started a war with another court in search of you.) But we do want you to know you do have a home here. No matter what. I know Rhys feels devastated with how the situation turned out, even though it is partially his fault.  I want to make it clear how sorry we are for their actions and that we adore you. 
Lovingly, 
Feyre
I crumple the edges of the letter with tears streaming down my face, with a shaking breath I fold the letter gently and put it back into the envelope. I set it with the piles of letters Elain has sent to me on my coffee table. I wipe my face and head over to my rough looking door of the tree house that I am living in and latch it. This area of the Autumn Court has always been on the poorer side but it was home. Growing up with no family and moving around as a fairy was never safe, so before Amarantha’s reign I settled in this area of Autumn. 
Having not been to this home in two years it took a while to get it back into shape, cleaning and removing critters that have turned it into their home while I was gone. I have wind chimes and wards surrounding this home just like my other one, the difference here though is the Autumn wind is much more soothing for me then in any other court. It’s almost like my soul knows it's safe here. 
I have my wind playing soothing music with the small instruments placed around the open room. Candles lit and windows open for the utmost ambiance while I research different wind patterns.
I hear one of my chimes go off near the front door that catches my attention, I get up from the table and walk back to the door.  Frantic knocking is what I hear once I get to the door itself, I rip it open to see what is wrong. 
“Miss Wynnie!” with a sob, and I look down to see one of the kids I help take care of from the children’s shelter near my tree house. Little antlers poke through his red hair, and tears stream down his tanned face as he launches towards me. 
“Oatie what is the matter?” I say and crouch to his level. I put my hands on his shoulders to sooth him and look him in the eyes.
“Those mean guards are back at the shelter, they are demanding more money.” Oatie is a twelve year old boy who had to grow up quickly due to being an orphan partially under Beron’s rageful reign, but he was still a gentle soul. Things have started to get better slowly with the new High Lord, but it is a slow process when the court has so much hate built in. 
“Okay sweet boy, it’s going to be alright. Go curl up on the couch with a book and some tea and I will go take care of this okay?” I tell him with a soft voice. He nods and heads off that way. Once he is settled on the couch I fix my dress, and re-braid the two long braids under my bob and fly off the balcony.
When I arrive at the shelter there are two guards yelling at the volunteer on duty at the shelter. With a burst of wind I separate them from the worker, and land in front of them. I motion for the worker to go inside.
“What is the issue here?” I bark at them, their heated eyes turn to me.
“They owe us money for protection.” The one on the right says with a grunt.
“That’s your job. The High Lord literally pays you to protect the people. So that was the wrong answer, do me a favor and try again.” I say while rolling my eyes and shifting my weight to one hip. 
“You bitch.” One says and I let out a laugh with a clap of my hands. I know I probably shouldn’t egg them on but it’s so easy. As I am about to respond they both seem to stiffen and look behind me.
“Well that’s no way to speak to a lady.” I turn to face the new voice, which belongs to High Lord Eris, who recently has had his hair trimmed since the last time I saw him. 
“She is barely a lady, my lord.” One said with a snicker. I respond with a glare and a large gust of wind knocking them both over.
I turn to face Eris completely and give him a graceful curtsy grabbing the edges of my green dress. To which I receive a sucking of the teeth sound from him.
“Wynnie dear, stand up please. You don’t have to bow to me, we are old friends.” He says with a soft smile. The two guards seemed to have disappeared leaving the two of us alone. I straighten and glow a soft pink with a cheeky grin say,
“Yes, well, I have to show my respect My Lord.” He chuckles and makes a small lunge toward me, so I float backwards and he narrowly misses me. 
“You’ll have to be quicker than that to catch me sir.” He grunts a small breath and lunges towards me again. And I am suddenly reminded of when we were younger.
“Eris! Where are you?” I yell knowing he is hiding behind one of the trees with his hounds. 
“Got you!” I hear from behind me and feel my waist being pulled into someone's chest. I look up over my shoulder and see Eris with a wide grin. I pout at him. 
“That’s not fair.” I whine. “You know I am afraid of your pups, they think I am a big bird waiting to be hunted.”  He laughs in response. 
“I would never let them hurt you Wynnie Lara, I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said softly. “You are my only friend in this wretched court. I will burn it down to protect you.” 
“Eris that is sweet but, you are an heir would that not be counterproductive?” I ask teasingly but my skin glowing a bright warm orange with endearment. 
“Not for you Wynnie.” He says.
“I can’t stay in this area long, but I did want to invite you to dinner soon.”  He tells me when we both are sitting on the forest floor. Me on a rock with my wings glowing and him leaned up against it. My hands naturally find his hair and gently run my fingers through it. 
“I would love to.” I tell him, “I might visit the Night Court here soon.” I say with a whisper.
“Oh?” He asks me softly.
“Nyx is turning one and I miss the girls a little bit.” I responded.
“Yes, that's understandable. I still am beyond livid for how you were treated there.” He says back with a huff. And I laugh a little, “You and me both.” 
“I will have to send you with a gift, hmm?” He tells me. 
“That would be very kind of you, my lord.” And in response I get him standing up and pinching my sides. 
“Mercy! Mercy!” I say in between giggles. 
“Alright Wynn. I will send a letter for dinner when you return. Be safe and have a good night.” He tells me with a pat to the head and soft voice. 
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a/n: soooooooooooo what do with think???
I am a sucker for soft Eris omggggg. Please if any questions please let me know!
I am trying the taglist I hope it works lmao
taglist: @cazrielsfairygf @buckyloki888 @litnerdwrites @the-fandom-ness @booksbypisces @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor
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Perhaps Hal Jordan or Clark kent with cuddling. Like just them coming home after a stressed day and you just take care of them the best you can. U offer sex but they don’t want it. Just wanting to be in ur presence for a bit yk yk
Clark Kent x Male reader
Headcanons
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Hey nerds, guess who’s not dead. I feel like I am, but apparently, I’m not. Classes are kicking my ass because of very cramped timelines and long days. Who’d have thought becoming a caretaker (idk the English word) would be so difficult. A shorty, but still something I enjoyed writing.
It wasn’t a common occurrence. For Clark to come home so worn out and tired. As a man powered by the sun, a man of steel as he so regularly gets called, its very difficult to him feeling so worn down.
For the most part, the days he comes home in this mood, is not because he’s exhausted physically, but rather mentally. Be it from difficult missions, or just long days at work where he’s talked down too or pushed aside.
There is something soft and cute about him like this, though you would never tell him that. he’s always a little whinier and poutier, but also cuddlier, if that’s even possible for a guy who seems to live off affectionate contact with you.
The first thing Clark does when he comes home from days like this, is kick off whatever he’s wearing and change into something else. Most days its some ancient washed-out sweatshirts from his university days. The kind that’s been washed so many times the logo is mostly gone, and the fabric is worn thin and soft.
Its either that, or if you’re bigger than him, then it’s one of your shirts. That or just a pair of boxers and socks, so he can crawl into your space and flop down there like a big lazy cat.
If possible, Clark tries to crawl up into your shirt, laying his head on your stomach or your chest, ear pressed against your skin to listen to your heart, even if he can easily do that anywhere on the planet. Being so close just puts him at ease.
You cant hear it, but you know he’s purring, even if it’s a frequency you can’t pick up. At this point you can only really rub his back and let him soak up the affection and touch he needs like a wilted flower in the sun.
When he starts pressing featherlight kisses against your torso, you start to think maybe Clark wants something more, since he starts kneading at your sides, like you’re made from playdough, and he wants to mold you into something else.
His hands are so big and strong that you almost feel like playdough, with how insistent his rubbing and kneading can get. His kisses never go beyond soft pecks and barely there brushes of his lips, Clarks head just moving from side under your shirt as he lays on top of your legs.
You don’t need words in a situation like this, your hands becoming more exploratory, rubbing between his shoulders and tapping your fingers at his spine, like he’s a harp you’re plucking the strings off.
The change in your scent must catch his attention too, as Clark lifts his head just enough for you to see him through the collar of it, his eyes soft and glistening. They remind you of marbles, in a way. So shiny and with that clash of shades of blue.
The small downwards pout of his lips and minimal shake of his head is all you need to know, that going farther isn’t what he wants. So, you just give a nod in reply and place a hand on the back of his head, bringing him back down again.
You don’t really understand why he feels so much comfort under your shirt like this. Maybe it’s the enclosed feeling of it all, the shirt, and sometimes blanket you put on top, closing him off from the rest of the world.
Maybe its just the closure, and being surrounded by your scent, which always seems to put him at ease, or rile him up, depending on your own mood.
You don’t hate it though, you never could, not when its Clark. So, instead you just lay back, rubbing your hands slowly up and down his back and Clark nuzzles deeper against you, letting him rest there for as long as he needs.
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dragoncopper · 2 days
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The Apparition - Continued.
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A/N: Please read The Apparition first, if you haven’t already, or this won’t really make sense. 
Pairing: Noah Sebastian x female Reader
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 5475
Warnings: Major character death, crying, sadness, suicide, smut, fluff
Link to The Apparition
Read the whole thing on A03 here.
 You
The diagnosis was unexpected. 
You sat in the doctor’s office while she was telling you about it, and you felt shaky and like your breath was not reaching your lungs and that you were kind of floating near your body, but not inhabiting it.  You heard what she was saying, and yet it was not sinking in.
You felt nervous and afraid.  You did not know how you were supposed to feel.  How you were supposed to process the information?  How were you going to explain it to him?
Driving back home you took it slow, no music.  You needed the silence to be able to not feel overwhelmed and overstimulated.  You dreaded seeing his face now.  His reaction scared you more than any of the realities of the situation ever could.  You wanted to protect him from this more than you wanted to save yourself. 
You were sitting on the couch staring off into the distance for a while, you don’t really know how long, before you felt him appear.  He smiled at you and came closer and soon he realised that you were not yourself and he sat down next to you.  You felt the familiar dip next to you. 
‘What happened?’ he asked his voice immediately worried.
You were quiet trying to decide which words to use.  He placed his large hand on your lower back in a gesture of comfort and you felt the heat of it through your shirt. 
‘I am… I have cancer,’ you say, your voice flat, but you needed it all out as quickly as possible.  ‘It already started spreading.  I…,’
‘You just had some neck pain,’ he whispers after being quiet for very long. 
‘Yeah,’ you nod.  ‘It’s in my spine.’
‘How,’ he started a sentence he did not know how to finish.  ‘It doesn’t….’
‘I’m sorry,’ you say to him. 
‘What?  Why are you sorry?’  he asked with the deepest frown on his face.
‘I know this is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me,’ you say.  Looking in his eyes the emotion hits you finally. 
He shakes his head and leans in to you and holds you.  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ he whispers.  ‘What do we do?  How do we fix this?’
‘There’s not much to be done.  It has already spread all over,’ you reply into his shoulder.
‘But surely, they gave you some advice?  Some options?’
‘I can try chemotherapy.  It can slow the spread.  Maybe give me more time, but by the sounds of things there is no fixing this anymore,’ you explain.
‘But you didn’t have symptoms,’ he is trying to make sense.  ‘How, I don’t understand.’
‘I don’t either, Noah.  I am so sorry.’
‘Stop apologizing,’ he says.  He holds you quietly.  After a while you feel his breathing start to pick up and you feel it begin to shake, and hitch.  You hold him back tighter and for the first time since you have gotten the news, you feel the tears prick at your own eyes. 
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ you say your voice small.
‘Baby,’ his voice cracking.  ‘I don’t want you to hurt.’
 Noah
It took me some time to convince her to do the chemotherapy.  She didn’t want to, arguing that it was pointless.  I argued that it gave her some more time.  Gave her more opportunities to do things and live.  I am sure that she is doing it purely for me.  But I feel we have to try. 
So, we are in the car where Nick is driving her to the hospital.
We moved a few years ago.  She made the amazing and selfless decision to move closer to Nick for my sake.  That way I could have my two people near me.  The move felt like a new beginning for us, we picked a new flat together and moved in and I had an input, and for a while we could both imagine that we were just a normal couple moving in together.
While our lives have so many strange things about it, we were so normal and everyday that I often forgot the fact that I was dead.  She loved me so fully and completely despite the fact that I couldn’t be real for her.  We were happy and delusional and had started to live in our own little world where everything was what we wanted.  This news cracked open that illusion.  Reality caught up with us.
‘You say you have snacks and something to drink?’ Nick asked ad he pulled into the parking area of the hospital.
‘Yes, Noah packed me a whole little goody bag,’ she answered him.
‘I will be here to pick you up,’ he says with small, reassuring smile.  ‘You sure you don’t want me to come?’
‘Noah is with me,’ she says.  That’s all the explanation she needed to give. 
‘I got it,’ I say to Nick.  ‘Thank you, brother.’
‘Good luck,’ Nick said somberly.
She grips my hand to the point of pain as we walk inside.  They take her to a chair with so much shit set up around it.  I stand back and watch as they connect her to all the medical equipment.  Then they slide the thick needle into her arm where the chemicals that is supposed to help her live longer will enter her body.  She doesn’t flinch.  She watches as it slides into her skin and they place a bandage over to keep it in place.  The people at the hospital were being so nice and sweet and told her to not hesitate to call them if she needed anything.  But my sweet girl seemed numb, she nodded along but her eyes were empty.  That upset me so deeply. 
When we are alone, I approach and cup her cheek.  ‘You okay?’ I whisper.
She nods.  ‘I think so,’ she gives me a small smile.  It’s barely there. 
We have to be discreet.  She cannot have a full-blown conversation with a ghost in the hospital.  So, she has a book to keep her entertained.  I sit down in front of her on the floor, she hooks one leg over my shoulder and I roll up her pant leg, and I start massaging her calf and ankles and feet.  She touches my hair every now and then, hugs me with her leg by squeezing me closer to her.  Later we swop her legs. She falls asleep at some point. 
Six hours later, Nick is waiting, smoking a cigarette by his car.  He seemed anxious.  Relief flooded his face when he sees us.  She seemed okay at this time, but I know we are in for a rough night. 
‘How was it?’  Nick asked.
‘It was great,’ she answered sarcastically. 
‘Sorry, that was a stupid question,’ he scrunches his face. 
‘No, I’m sorry.   It was okay.  It’s just really long, that was the most annoying bit,’ she slips into the car and leans back into the seat. 
Nick squeezed my shoulder.  ‘And you?’
I nod in determination.  ‘She took it like a champ.’
‘How did you take it?’  he asked.
‘It broke my heart,’ I admit quietly.
 You
‘Hey, Noah,’ you call to him.
‘Baby?’ he answers.
‘I need your help please,’ you approach him and he looks at you warily.  You take out the clippers from behind your back.  ‘It’s time.’
You can see the moment he realizes and you see the pain in his eyes.   He gets up without a word and walks closer to you and takes the clippers from your hand and then kisses you solidly on the lips.  ‘It’s not that bad yet,’ he says softly.
‘No, but a few clumps came loose in the shower and I just cannot handle it.  I need it to be over with,’ you explain.
‘Okay,’ he nods and takes your hand and he starts for the bathroom. 
‘No, can you do it in the kitchen?  I don’t want to see it in the mirror,’ you say and you feel shy about admitting that.
‘Whatever you want,’ he smiles.  When you’re in the kitchen he drags a chair closer.  You sit down and take a deep breath.  ‘You have a hair tie?’ 
‘Yeah,’ you dig the one you had out of your pocket.  ‘Why?’
‘So can keep the hair I cut together,’ he says and he gently and with so much care gathers your hair together and ties it at the back of your head. 
‘I thought I would feel sadder about this,’ you admit something to him again.
‘It’s just hair,’ he says simply.  ‘You ready?’
‘Mmm,’ and you feel him cut the hair with a scissor, you feel the weight of the hair disappear.  It takes him a moment before he holds the ponytail out to you.  You take it and hold it, run your fingers through it.  He leans over your shoulder and kisses your neck affectionately. 
‘Let me know when I should continue,’ he whispers. 
‘Now, please.’  You say, beginning to feel very anxious.  ‘Let’s get it over with.’
You hear the harsh sound of the clippers being turned on and then he starts running it over your head.  Whisps of hair fall down your back, over your shoulders, past your face and you hold your breath to not get any of it in your mouth.  It also helps to keep the tears back.  He takes his time; you feel him go over some spots to make sure its even.  When he switches the clippers off, the silence is deafening.
He runs his hand over your scalp.  ‘All done,’ he says. 
‘How does it look?’ you ask, brushing across your body to get the hair off you. 
‘It looks like you,’ you hear his voice is thick.  Both of you keep quiet for a moment, both trying to keep composure for the other one.  You busy yourselves with gathering the hair on the floor together and picking it up, using a dustpan to get the finer hairs.  When it’s all clean, he grabs your hand and pulls you to him and he wraps his arms around you.  With your face buried in his chest, you feel safe and like it will all be okay.  His tall frame is concave so he can hold you with as much of his body as he can.
‘Let’s go look,’ you say after a while and you drag him to the bathroom.  Even though you knew what you were going to see it shocks you.  ‘Jesus,’ you say immediately touching where your hair used to be. 
He is behind you nervously. 
‘I don’t hate it,’ you say after a while with a smile.  ‘It looks bad ass.’
He smiles with relief.  ‘It does,’ he agrees.  He steps closer and also touches your head.  ‘You are the most beautiful human,’ he kisses your bald head a few times and then buries his face in your neck.  You feel the wetness of his kisses and tears and pretend not to notice. 
You turn in his embrace and kiss his amazing lips.  God you will miss these lips.  You make the first move and slide your hands under his shirt and lift it up until he lets go for a moment to lift his arms so you can pull the shirt off.  You press yourself against his bare chest, immediately back to kissing him again.  He leads the way to the bed without losing contact with each other.
He lays you down and starts by climbing over you.  He kisses your stomach where the sliver of skin shows and moves your shirt up with his nose and he kisses every inch he can find.  He slides the shirt off with practiced ease and then kisses your chest, between your breasts and removes the bra you had on.  He lavishes attention on you with kisses and gentle bites. 
You grab his head and bring his mouth to yours and then you change your positions, so that he is on his back.  You undo his button, move the zipper down and then shimmy his trousers and boxers down at the same time.  All the way down, you nearly fall off the bed to get his long legs free.  He laughs for a moment.  ‘Do you want me to take your socks off?’ you ask.
‘No, it’s okay.  The pants were almost too much,’ he jokes.
You huff a laugh, ‘It’s not my fault your legs are that long.  Scoot up, please.  You are too tall.’
He moves up against the pillows, and lays diagonally across the bed.  This was really the only way his frame fits on the bed.  You have even taken to sleeping next to the each other stretched diagonally across the bed.  You settle down between his legs that he spreads for you. 
He was already halfway to being hard.  Before you touch him at all, you just look for a moment.  You have been feeling the strong need to memorize some things.  You find yourself staring at all kinds of things about life thinking that you must file it away.  But mostly it happened with Noah, who was worth remembering the most.  Every single inch of his being was being recorded in your mind.  His cock was slowly standing up, his balls contracting every now and again.  He was pale just like the rest of his body, his head slightly darker.  When he flexes again, you wrap your hand around him at the base where your hand almost rests on his balls.  You hear him let out a sigh.  You lick at his frenulum and he immediately bucks his hips. 
‘Sorry,’ he breathes out.  ‘I’ll keep still.’
‘It’s okay, baby.’  You lick again, pushing your tongue against him, before taking the head into your mouth.  You stay there for a while, until he was fully hard in your hand.  You start to take more of him in your mouth.  You go slow, going slightly lower. 
‘Oh fuck,’ he breathes repeatedly.  ‘Baby.’  He is struggling to keep his hips down on the bed and it gives you a thrill to see the impact you can have on him.  Even now.
‘Keep still for me, for a moment,’ you say, looking him in the eye.  He nods.  You sink down on him as far as you can go.
‘Fffffff, I…….  B…baby.’
You smile.  You love it when he couldn’t get a word out.  You keep at him, following the thick veins with your tongue, paying a lot of attention to his glans.  You lose yourself in your task.  You memorize the weight of him on your tongue, the slightly salty taste of his skin.  How his skin is so impossibly soft.  How he reacts to your actions.  How you feel his balls clench every now and then. 
Before Noah, you never understood why women would willingly do this.  Now you felt privileged to get to taste him and see him be so vulnerable with you. 
Eventually he stops you, and sits up to kiss you.  Your jaw hurts a little, but you kiss him back.  ‘Goddammit, I love you,’ he says into your mouth.  ‘Please take off your pants.’
You lay back to wrestle your pants off, he grabs the ends by your ankles and yanks.  ‘Lay back, like you were,’ you tell him.  He complies quickly and without argument.
You straddle his hips, and he moves the pillows so he is sitting up.  With you in his lap, you were closer to a similar height.  Your faces close to each other’s.  He grabs himself and guides himself to your entrance and then you lower yourself onto him.  ‘I love you,’ you breathe out.  You take it slow and just grind into his hips.  His hands moving all over your body, even lovingly over your head.  You breathe each other’s breath, skin to skin, whispering words of love into the other’s mouth, throat, ear.
After you both come, you fall forward onto him and he holds you.  He pulls the blankets over you both and you lay there like this is where you want to be for eternity – him still inside.  ‘I will always love you,’ you try to explain to him what has been battling through your mind.  ‘Nothing is going to stop me.’
He hugs you tighter.  ‘Death has already tried, my love.  It has no power over us.’ 
Noah
Nick drops us off after the final chemo session with bags of food and drinks and I hug the man before he leaves.  ‘I cannot thank you enough,’ I say gripping onto his jacket.
‘My guy,’ he says.  ‘I wish I could have done more.  I am so sorry for you both.’
‘You have done so much for us,’ I say pulling back.
‘Let me know if you need anything else,’ he smiles sadly.
Inside, she is eating food straight from the container.  I leave her, and go the bathroom, where I unroll the old sponge mattress and put a sheet over it, bring blankets and pillows.  I make sure there’s tissue, ice water a washcloth.  Then I join her for dinner and I have nice time.  She is making jokes and smiling at me. 
We shower together, we wash each other’s backs and I can tell she is trying to enjoy feeling human before the side effects hit. 
We sleep together on the tiny mattress, I keep holding her because she is cold.  She is always cold after.   We fall asleep peacefully.  But soon, I am woken by her ripping herself from my arms and she leans over the toilet on her knees and she throws up all her dinner.  It comes in waves, I kneel behind her and rub her back, keeping my body close to hers for heat.  She starts sweating, but her skin is ice cold.  I feel all the muscles in her back contract as she keeps vomiting.  She is shivering.  Eventually she sits back and I wipe her mouth with the wash cloth.  She blows her nose and takes a few sips of water.  I open my arms and she climbs into me as close as she can get.  I lay us down and cover her with the blankets. 
‘I am not doing it again,’ she says.  I thought she had fallen asleep.  I keep quiet.  I know what she is saying.  I suspected this was coming.  ‘I’m sorry, but I just can’t.’
‘It’s okay, love.’ I rub my hand along her arm to warm her up.  ‘I understand.’
‘I would rather just enjoy what I have left,’ she whispers.
I start crying, but I try to hide it from her.  But she knows.  She grabs my hand, and weave our fingers together.  ‘I’m sorry, Noah.’
‘Don’t be,’ I sob. 
‘You know,’ she sighs.  ‘The part that scares me?  I don’t want to leave you.  I am not scared of anything else.  Everything else is nothing.  I am terrified of not being with you.’
This makes me cry even harder.  I am shaking by the time I get a reply out.  ‘I am scared of a lot of things.’
‘Like what?’
‘This.  Watching you suffer is tearing me apart.  I am scared of you being in pain.  But, yeah.  I don’t know what will happen when…’  I cannot say it. 
‘When I die,’ she finishes for me.
I nod. 
‘Well, if my soul lives on,’ she says.  ‘What if I don’t remember you?  You know how you couldn’t remember anything.’
My heart clenches in pain.  ‘I will remember for us.  I will remind you of everything you need to know.’
‘I am trying to commit things to my memory.  Trying to burn it into my being, so that I will remember.’
‘Things like what?’  I ask, curious.
‘Mostly you,’ she answers.  ‘Running my fingers through your hair, how soft your lips are.  How cold your feet are in bed.  How your hand makes mine look ridiculously small when our fingers are together like this.  Your kindness, and your laugh and how utterly loved and safe I feel in your arms.’
I ugly cry into the skin of her bald head and squeeze our fingers together and pull her body even closer to mine.  I feel her start to hiccup too.  She reaches back with her free hand and cups my head.  ‘I will find you, love.  I found you once, I can find you again.  Just look out for me, I’ll be there.’
When we calm down, we make up scenarios of what our souls will do together.  She is exhausted, but she keeps going.  We fall asleep with wishes hanging on our tongues.
You
After all the bad side effects of the chemo were gone, I started feeling normal again.  My hair was growing back out, I gained a little of the weight I had lost to all the vomiting back and my body felt like mine gain.  It was a dangerous thing.  I could so easily fool myself that everything was fine.
I decided to fill my days with as many good things as possible.  Which meant spending time with Noah.  For months we made a point to just do all the things we wanted.
We have game nights with Nick, where we would play video games or board games, order loads of food, listen to music and waste hours and hours laughing and having fun.  It was so good to see the two friends together.  To see the friendship they had after all the years.  To see a different side of Noah when the two of them were heated in their discussions or arguments about game rules.  I memorized the carefree way he plays.  The freedom is his reactions.
You go on road trips together often.  You pick famous places you’ve never been and also pick obscure spots to go see if there’s anything worth seeing.  Noah always packs bags of travel accessories, he has gotten very good at it.  He remembers all your medicine, your favorite sweets, drinks, tissues and extra jackets for when it gets cold.  He knows how you will react better than you do yourself.  He knows what you will need.  While driving, you guys play the same games you started on the trip to see Nick for the first time.  You hold hands while walking around.  You cuddle and watch countless sunsets from the hood of the car.  Each trip was immeasurably special – not because of where you went, but because of the opportunities you had to burn memories into your soul. 
You spend hours cooking together in the kitchen, picking things you have both wanted to try.  This does not always end in success.  But it does end with dances in the kitchen, or kisses in the kitchen, laughing in the kitchen.  It ends with meals enjoyed together, feeding each other, cleaning up together.  Memories.
Lazy days laying about, reading books or watching movies – as long as the two of you were tangled up in some way, it didn’t really matter.  During this time, you learned by accident that he gets full body chills when you play with his ears.  You realised he falls asleep within minutes if you run your fingers through his hair.  You craved the feeling of his weight on you – his head resting on your stomach, his legs thrown over yours, his whole body on you with his lips against your neck.  You paid attention to all the details.
You and Noah had a lot of sex.  You both always took your time with it, savoring every moment you had to bring each other comfort and pleasure.  Even when you were being rough and harsh there was so much love.  It was a way to show each other the anger, disappointment, heartbreak that you both felt.  And at the same time, it was a chance to be close and pour affection and love into the other one.  Each time had a lot of ‘I love you’s whispered.  Each time had a rush of overwhelming emotion that caused at least one of you to cry.   
When you start to realise that the medicine was not really taking away your pain anymore, you knew it was time to have a conversation with Noah.
While you were in bed, his head resting on your shoulder while your fingers ran up and down his bare back, you take a deep breath before you begin.  ‘Noah?’
‘Mmmm,’ his face squished against you. 
‘I think the time is getting near,’ you say.
‘What time?’ he mumbles.
‘My time.  I don’t think we have very long left,’ you keep your voice low, like it would soften the words.
He lifts his head and looks at you with sadness.  ‘Why?’
‘The pain is getting worse,’ you say with a grimace.  ‘But, the reason I bring it up is because I have a terrible thing to ask of you.’
He closes his eyes.  Like he knows.  Maybe he does.  He knows you better than you know yourself.  This hurts your heart so much. 
‘I don’t want to suffer through it, baby,’ your voice cracks. 
He nods against you.  ‘I don’t want you to either, love.’  You run your finger over the frown on his forehead, wanting to smooth out his worry.
‘Will you help me?’ you ask.  ‘When it’s time?’
He shakes his head with small movement.  ‘I don’t want to,’ his face crumples in pain.  ‘I want to do anything you need, but how am I supposed to do that to you?’
‘I hate that I am even asking,’ you sniff.  ‘I will do it myself.  But I need you there.  I need your face to be the last thing I see.  I want you in my brain when it dies.’
Tears stream down both your faces.  It has been happening so often lately and yet it still broke you to see his nose turn red, his lashes clumped together.  He was still so fucking beautiful.  After a while of contemplation, he says, ‘Alright.’
Noah
Today was the day. 
When it started getting bad, it went downhill very quickly.  Her pain became worse, she had no energy, no appetite.  The life was draining out of her before my very eyes and it was infuriating.  I had rage in me that it had to be like this.  She deserved so much better. 
While I understand her decision completely, it didn’t make it easy for me.  The emotions warring inside me made me nauseous all the time.  But I wanted her to get what she wants. 
I made her her favorite breakfast that she nibbled on a little.  We spoke at length about out favorite memories of our time together.  We tried to make love, but I couldn’t get hard, so I made her come with my tongue and fingers instead.  We cried a lot.  She fell asleep on my chest, even though she said she wouldn’t, she didn’t want to waste any time with me.  But she was tired.  She was tired in more than one way. 
I had to get into contact with Nick to hook me up, because we didn’t know the area like he did.  He asked friends, that asked friends and eventually we got a lethal dose of prescription pain medication that we would use tonight.  She made sure that it was more than enough. 
So that evening, I crushed up the pills in the kitchen, while she was hugging me from behind.  I placed the powder in a glass and filled another one with water.  I placed it on our bedside table.  After a hot bath and a cup of tea she dressed in her most comfortable pajamas and we sat together on the bed. 
‘What will happen to you?’ she asks, leaning into me, her head on my shoulder. 
‘I really don’t know,’ I answer back.
‘What if you are not okay?’ she sobs. 
‘Don’t worry about me,’ I counter. 
‘I only worry about you,’ she cries.  ‘I’ll stay longer if it means you will be okay.’
‘It won’t, love,’ I put my arm around her and hug her into my side. 
‘Here’s what I think you should do,’ she says through the tears.  ‘If you can’t find me, I think you should go to Nick.  You two will take care of each other.’
I laughed.  ‘I did think of that.’
‘I am so sorry,’ she starts.
‘No,’ I stop her. 
‘I am sorry for so many things,’ she carries on.
‘Please, don’t be sorry for one single thing.  Please don’t think that even one single minute with you was not the best moments of my existence.’
‘You can’t remember your whole existence,’ she counters. 
‘I know.  But I know,’ I sigh.
‘You were definitely the best part of mine.  I can never express how much I have loved you since I have known you.  I owe my soul to you.’
I try to find words, but they won’t come to me.  There isn’t really anything I can say to her that I haven’t said already.  ‘You are my soul.’
She calls Nick to tell him she is about to do it.  He is supposed to notify authorities.  They have a brief conversation.  And then I thank him and tell him I love him.
She pours the powder into her mouth, makes a face at the bitterness and then swallows it down with a few gulps of water. 
She kisses me quickly.  ‘I love you.’  Then she lays down and cuddles into me and I hold onto her for all I am worth. 
I grip her while I cry and cry and hope to whatever god is listening that she will feel no pain.  That she will be okay wherever she will go.  I pray that I will find her again.  I feel her breathing stop after a while, her grip on my shirt goes slack, but I keep holding on.  The warmth of her body lingers and it comforts me, until I start to fade away.  I can feel myself slip.  Her peaceful face is the last thing I see before I, too, am gone.
 You
The fog around you is thick to the point where you find it difficult to tell what time of day it is.  Through the wisps of white you see tall trees all around you.  The temperature around you is comfortable, even though it seems like it should be cold, it isn’t. 
You have no idea why you are here or where you are going, and the fact that you cannot remember does not upset you.  You walk slowly through the trees and the almost complete silence until you see a path.  You follow the path as it winds between the trees and the further you go, the fog seems to lift little by little.  Then a warm light becomes visible and as you get closer you see a cabin.  Warm, yellow light glows from the windows, smoke curls out of a chimney, it is calling you closer.
Then when you have almost reached it, the door opens and a tall man steps outside.  Your heart beats faster at the sight of him.  He is wearing all white, beautiful tattoos showing on his skin, his dark hair frames his face.  He smiles at you.  Like he knows you. 
He takes light steps down to you.  ‘Hi,’ he beams. 
‘Hi,’ you say, unsure of what was happening.
‘Are you lost?’ he asks you.
‘No,’ you say.  ‘I don’t really know.’
‘It’s alright,’ he says.  ‘I can help you if you need it.’
You look into those eyes that are so dark they are almost black and you know that he is safe.  He feels familiar.  ‘Do I know you?’
‘Come inside for some tea?’ he says reaching out his hand.  You take it without a thought and your fingers twine like you have done it a thousand times before.  ‘I have a lot to tell you.’
Inside is warmth and comfort and home.  You sit near the fireplace and he hands you a cup and you drink it.  It is just like you like it.  ‘Who are you?’
‘More importantly, who are you?’ he counters.
You frown, not knowing the answer.  ‘Do you know me?’
He nods.
A/N: This part was never supposed to happen, but a comment from someone on A03 put my mind to work.  I’m sorry that this part was also sad, but in my mind, there was no other way to do this.  Thank you to everyone who took actual time out of their day to read my story. 
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a-tale-of-legends · 1 month
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Like I love Piers. I do. But it will forever erk me on how he just. Pushes so much on Marnie. I don't think it's malicious by any means, it's clear he adores her. But again, the " team yell situation would've been out of control if it wasn't for her" as if he's not the adult there. Or the " I'm not much of a gym leader, so I want my sister to take over for me", despite her interests being. Not that atm.
And I don't exactly hate these flaws for Piers. I think they're really interesting! But both the game and masters kinda don't do anything with it. At least masters goes " yeah, my sister wants to be champion, so I'm still gonna be a gym leader for now and let her do her own thing " but it's still banking on the fact Marnie will eventually become the gym leader in her place. Like he doesn't mean to do this, but he's putting so much pressure on the girl. Him and team yell! And I don't think that's fair! But nah, they still have a good relationship - and I want them to! But I also want them to address this. I think their entire situation is just messy, and pokemon isn't exactly showing that.
I do think it's interesting, according to Marnie, she feels like the reason her and Piers don't argue is because Piers is holding back on her. And that she would want that sibling squabble. Like! God that's so interesting! And kinda sad! To know your older brother is holding back emotions for your sake! There's so much you could do with these two I swear, and yet! We don't get much!
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aphel1on · 1 year
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not sure how to phrase this but something i have been ruminating on recently is that xue yang is strangely fragile. obviously he is also incredibly resilient. he survived, and continues to survive, impossible things. he has a million barriers between himself and the world, but none of this actually matters when it comes to what he feels. everything is personal to him. everything pierces straight through all that armor and goes right to his battered heart, the heart that no one else believes he has. that even he is not fully cognizant of. the world strikes and strikes and strikes and so he strikes and strikes and strikes back, even (especially) when the wound is something other people would not think worthy of retribution.
xue yang would never realize this- would be outraged at the concept of it- but the way everything, everything is something to rally a defense against is in itself a form of fragility. he does not know how to let go of things, or let them pass him by. passivity is death. so he is ruthlessly cruel and violent. he projects himself as a lunatic untouchable by anything you might possibly do to him, and on some level he even believes this. but in actuality he is one raw emotional wound. he never learned to separate himself from his emotions, much less process them. the volatility is not so much insanity as it is the constant lashing out of an animal in a trap, and the trap is the world, and the trap is himself, and he is never going to get out. and like so much else, this pain is just part of the background radiation of his life. it hardly registers. to be able to register the hurt, you would have to be able to register a time in which you were not hurt.
i feel like it is a fragility that could blossom into such tenderness, given exactly the right set of circumstances. how at the very first touch of softness in his life he fell into a domesticity from which he never recovered. how much was there, still, to be salvaged from the cruelty. on some level i am always thinking about the little apple bunnies. about the meal for daozhang and the straw in a-qing's bed.
it was too little, too late. it shattered like glass when the world intruded back in. but the tenderness was there. no one, least of all xue yang, knows what might have happened had it been unearthed in him any sooner.
#he is easy to hurt. this is a fact. it is also anathema to his own self conception as well as the model of him in anyone elses minds.#xue yang#yi city#mdzs#aphelion.txt#xy#Contact is crisis; every touch is a modified blow#<- xycore anne carson quote. if you even care#meta#i guess? idk#it is always character analysis hour in my head#with a disclaimer that whether or not someone experiences empathy is NOT correlated to their morality#i dont think its necessarily that xy is incapable of empathy it's that any empathy that might exist in him is deeply deeply repressed#bc he views it as a death warrant. he (at every moment in his head and really quite often in reality) is on trial for his life#and it would be suicidal to give a shit about anyone who is not him.#especially since he knows- down to his bones- that no one is ever going to give a shit about him EXCEPT FOR him#the one chance he ever got to escape this cycle of brutality came with an expiration date built in by consequence of his past atrocities#and he only first started to comprehend anything about his own emotions after it was all already irrevocably fucked#in canon he is doomed. in fandom i am always picking him up and putting him somewhere kinder#shakes you by the shoulders do you understand what he does to me. do you. do you#if you tell me im excusing his crimes i will kill you w my lazer beam.#this isnt ABOUT THAT. this is ME BEING UNHINGED ABT HIS PSYCHOLOGY in a moral vaccuum.#i'm not saying 'hes sensitive uwu' but like i kind of am. unfortunately it mostly just motivates him to murder people#OH and when i connect the fragility to the tenderness i dont mean that i believe hes like. secretly soft#i mean that being as he is so deeply impacted by people's slights against him. he is just as deeply impacted by people's kindnesses#and he's not incapable of reciprocating it. he is INCREDIBLY fucking bad at it. but not incapable#ok i have to post this before i feel compelled to ramble any longer in the tags. jesus#got consumed by my a-yang feelings on a sunday morning sorry#not sure why i worded it as 'continues to survive' other than a constant subconscious denial that xue yang is dead
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commonzinnia · 14 days
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my brain put the clothes in the trash and the trash in the closet but with memories
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captainjonnitkessler · 4 months
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Look, the thing is - you've got your big fossils, right, your dinosaurs and your mammoths and your megafauna, and everyone is suitably impressed by those. It's very easy for those fossils to conjure up images of alien landscapes from millions of years ago.
But look. Look at this guy.
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This is the tiniest crinoid I ever did see. But he was alive!! He was alive four hundred millions years ago chilling at the bottom of the sea. And then one day he died, and he got buried in the sediment, and buried and buried and buried again until everything around him turned to stone, and that stone was buried again, and the sea receded and forests claimed the land and the dinosaurs died and the glaciers moved in and then receded and all of human history happened and he was there the whole time, buried and forgotten, and then last year I pulled him out of the ground by chance while digging in my backyard. And he wasn't anything big or impressive, he was just one little dude among hundreds of other little dudes that were alive and living an unfathomably long time ago in an unfathomably alien world. And now we're both here in the sun together. How am I supposed to cope with any of this knowledge.
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Thinking about robots and what makes them attractive AS robots
Cause like- the Detroit become human style basically human Android are boring and have no inherent attractiveness to them that a person couldn't have. They're boring why bother?
So a robot has LOOK like a robot to be attractive. But where's the line? It's not them being humanoid because glados is hot and the transformers aren't (at least to me, I'm well aware some people are into transformers no shame) so like-
What makes a robot attractive?
I'm very close to just looking up random fictional AIs and saying smash or pass to get a good data sample to trying and find a conclusion on what makes a robot hot
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always-a-joyful-note · 6 months
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I don't think words can express how I absolutely love it when Riku yells at Tenn about something but also how much pain and suffering that gives me
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hajihiko · 2 years
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I would create a small video essay on my fave characters not because I think im the rightest (I'm at least a little bit rightest tho) but bc I just NEED people to understand the themes I'm seeing
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romolossesit · 3 months
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i need them so badly
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evevoli · 2 years
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you don’t get it if i don’t make a dadrius animatic to never love an anchor i will actually die
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Dermot Kennedy - All My Friends // Homeward
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hooved · 2 years
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the next time i have to see someone misinterpret odo's actions in behind enemy lines i'm gonna turn into the fucking joker. this i swear to you
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hirynne au where they're roommates.... brynne teaches hira how to cook fancy food.... they flirt while making pizza..... enter the remaining potatoes as the ultimate wingmen..... thank you for your time.....
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moskaisley · 1 year
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syd n carmy r so cute !!! i hope they r never canon 🫶🏼
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