#your soul is shattered and will is slowly slipping away into darkness

[merilles]

it's a mental breakdown! *garbled kazoo noises*

[orshii]

Ready To Love

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x female reader

Word count: 5,1 k

Summary: Soonyoung, your best friend and soulmate, lived and breathed football until a devastating injury shattered his dreams. Unable to cope with the loss, he pushed everyone away, including you. Now, faced with the challenge of bringing back the friend you once knew, you must navigate through his pain and rediscover the bond that once held you together. Will you succeed in resurrecting the old Soonyoung, or will his journey lead him down a different path?

A/N: This is my first Seventeen ff lol. Well...yesterday as soon as I woke up, I just needed to write something with Hoshi LMAO. Cause recently he killed me, I love this hair on him sooo much. And his style?? Let's not talk about that...It's just a little drabble I needed to write out of myself, it's not a big deal tho. The story was inspired by Seventeen's Ready To Love ofc, cause I'm in love with that song istg. Okaay bye. (divider)

Life's journey resembles a roller-coaster ride, filled with unexpected twists and turns, but we shall never lose ourselves along the way, if you do, you remain alone with your toxic thoughts, that slowly eat the remaining life out of you. 

When the most important person in your life becomes the strangest person on Earth. My best friend couldn't stop the venom from spreading through his brain, poisoning it and making him believe he was nothing but a breeze of the dark autumn night. Soonyoung was a maximalist, football was his life it made him believe he was perfect, and that nothing could come his way.

But on a rainy game day, that promised a good future for him, he slipped on the wet green field and fell on the ground. Soonyoung's knee buckled beneath him as he slipped on the rain-soaked field, a sharp pain shooting through his leg, rendering him immobile amidst the downpour. Rain fell on his face in slow motion as he was screaming from the pain. That day was the end of the beginning of his career.

Since then, Soonyoung pushed everyone away from him who tried to approach him. Well, the ones he knew his whole life. His parents and me, I was his best friend. In past tense, because since the day of his injury, he did not want to talk to me. And the times when I tried to talk to him, he treated me like he didn't even know me. He looked down on me in front of his new troublemaker friends, making me feel like I was a clown trying to entertain them, whenever I tried to approach him at lunch breaks.

He has been my best friend since we were little. My parents introduced us when we were little to each other as Soonyoung's family lived opposite our house. Since that day we have been inseparable, we did everything together, even though we had different interests, him finding football as his lifesaver and me finding photography that helped me through difficult times of my life. We always adored each other's passion; he supported me whenever I wasn't sure if my photos were good enough. And I always attended his games to support and cheer for him, just be the first to congratulate him whenever they won.

Now that football wasn't there for him, he buried his cheerful past self deep down into his soul and a new careless Soonyoung came to the surface. He got into a new friend group, they were bad guys, and they always partied and got drunk whenever they had time. I couldn't recognize this Soonyoung, as neither did anyone who knew him before. He turned from a harmless hamster to a merciless tiger.

Our university’s football team had the last game of the year, everyone was excited and everyone attended to support their team. Except for one person and it was Soonyoung. The accident happened half a year ago and since Soonyoung isn't part of the team, they are bad, like really bad. They couldn't win a game; the team was falling apart without him. He was their fully trusted captain, who held the team together with his eagerness and his confident aura. Deep down I knew he was glad the team couldn't win without him, if he couldn't play then they deserved not to win.

The game was again a disaster as I watched it with my good friend, she was in the same major as me and we quickly became friends, photography connecting us. Watching the game everyone started to get bored, as winning the match was hopeless, they couldn't win, no matter how hard they tried.

They lost but that did not mean they couldn't throw a party for the sake of keeping the traditions. Everyone was invited, and it was held in a rich guy's house called Hongjoong, who was the new captain of the team, trying desperately to put the broken team's pieces together again. I kind of pitied him, because it was a very hard task breathing life to people who already lost hope. But he was known as a determined leader who would never disappoint his team, and it really seemed he was trying with his whole heart.

When we arrived at the party, my friend already got lost in the crowd as she was a real social butterfly, while I on the other side, liked the quieter places and fewer people. The living room was already full of students, most of them drunk, as they were dancing along to the loud music. Some random lights lighted the living room from time to time, for the sake of this seeming like a club. Through the sweating dancing bodies, I navigated myself to the kitchen to pour myself a drink. The furniture was all white and luxurious, I looked around as I searched for something to drink. I needed to relax a little, as recently I felt overwhelmed with everything I needed to do for the classes, project after project. I stayed up for nights, and on the days coffee was my only savior.

It was unhealthy, but Soonyoung wasn't the only one who got injured that day. Well, just theoretically, because my heart broke every time, I saw Soonyoung fall deeper into the dark and not let me in. It hurt because he was the only person in my life that understood me wholly. I tried to live without him, but it was hard. And seeing him laughing with his new friends made my heart fade into the dark.

"Woah, woah what did that whiskey do to you?" A strange voice brought me back to reality as I didn’t even realize I was pouring out the drink into a glass while I wandered off. I looked up just to meet with Hongjoong's sharp glaze, holding my wrist to stop me from pouring the drink that had already flown down to the kitchen counter.

"Oh—sorry, I got lost in my thoughts." I blushed in embarrassment, trying to find something I could clean the mess.

"It's okay, let me help you." He smiled at me and opened a cabinet to pull out a dry cloth to wipe the whiskey off.

I looked at him frowning. "How did you—", I hit my forehead as I realized this was his house.

He chuckled. "Yes, this is my house, I should know where my things are." He looked so adorable with his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he tilted his head down to clean up the mess I made. He looked so decent, as he was wearing a casual beige pullover paired with blue jeans with cuts on its knees, a lot of accessories in his ears, and on his fingers. When he was on the football field on match days, he always yelled at his team like a lion, trying to keep together his team, but now he looked nothing like that he was just a sweet guy.

"I'm so sorry again for making a mess." I ran my fingers through my hair.

"It's okay it happens." He finished the cleaning and took my glass to pour half of it into an empty glass.

He reached my glass towards me and took the other to his hands. "Let's drink then."

I chuckled at the fact of how casual he was, after all, I was just a stranger to him. "Cheers!" we clinked our glasses together and downed the whole drink in one go. The both of us were making a face when we finished the drink, from the bitter taste and the burning feeling it left behind. We both started to giggle looking at each other's faces. 

Suddenly people streamed into the kitchen as we were laughing, one familiar guy in front looking straight into my eyes. I saw nothing from my past best friend. He looked completely different. His blonde hair which almost seemed like ash was hidden beneath a black cap that was turned backward. His ears were pierced, just as his eyebrows. He was wearing a black sweater, that was oversized, hiding his well-defined body, white crosses on its sleeves, that matched with his blue jeans, with black and white crosses on it. He was the total opposite of the old Soonyoung. He was glaring at me with sharp eyes, I saw a hint of disappointment evident. But I felt more of it, I just hated him with my whole heart.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Soonyoung clapped as he came closer to us in the kitchen.

"What are you doing here? You were not invited." Hongjoong stepped in front of me, hiding me from Soonyoung, preventing me from hunting me down.

Soonyoung laughed out loudly that sounded fake. "I thought everyone was invited to this party, Captain." He leaned down to Hongjoong, to be on the same height level as him. Their height difference was barely visible from the outside, but Soonyoung looked so intimidating it made the Captain look small. But he did not let it happen. He straightened up and stepped closer to Soonyoung grabbing his collar.

"Everyone is invited. Except you." Hongjoong hissed through his teeth. "Get the fuck out of here!" He raised his voice.

Soonyoung laughed again, sounding the same as before, there was no life in it. His eyes met with mine as he looked behind Hongjoong. His eyes on me made me freeze as if almost to death, it was so intimidating I just couldn't move. I wanted to scream at him, to hit him, to beg for his old self to come back. But all I could do was look back at him with no emotions on my face. Slowly, I turned away, mirroring his detachment. I buried my emotions deep alongside his old self.

"What if I don't want to?" Soonyoung stepped even closer to Hongjoong and pushed him on the chest, Hongjoong's back hitting the fridge.

"Enough! Get the fuck out of here Soonyoung, you are not welcome here." I yelled at him suddenly, surprising him with my sudden impact.

His eyes rounded for a slight second in surprise, probably because I never called him Soonyoung, since we were kids, I always called him Hoshi, he asked me to call him like that when he found out what it meant, since he was obsessed with stars, he always adored them. For a second, I thought that's it, that is my Hoshi, he is still there. But his sharp glare was back in the blink of an eye.

"Are you in search of a new emotional support to replace me?" His question sounded full with disgust. I just couldn't believe this person was my best friend.

After half a year, he couldn't tell me anything else other than to humiliate me and I felt sick, I just never wanted to see him again.

I stepped closer to him, our faces inches apart, I tilted my head up to glare at him with zero emotions.

"There's nothing to replace." I said to him as I pushed him on the chest and fought my way through the crowd that assembled in the kitchen, people were always in for the drama.

Every year our neighborhood gathers together as we are close to the end of the year. We just celebrate the year at the end of autumn so we can say goodbye together to the year. This is the reason I am sitting in the house of our neighbor next to us, watching as the adults talk with each other, not like I am not an adult, but I just hate the shallow conversations where they ask about my life and what I want to do in the future. They had nothing to do with my life then why did they ask the same questions every year?

In the past, it was fun. At least Hoshi made it fun, as we always hid in the corners to judge the people and gossip about them. Now, I was sitting here all day on the couch with a glass of fine wine in my hand, and judging the people around me alone. I didn't see Hoshi all day, but I knew he was here somewhere hiding in the corners or who knows where. His parents were here and I knew they made him come along not accepting no as an answer, they were very strict if I may say.

The sun was already down and I felt so bored all day, I couldn't wait for the moment when they were distracted enough so I could slip out to be free. And that moment came quickly as I saw my parents were talking with a man and I quickly slipped outside through the backdoor.

When I closed the door and turned around, I froze. Hoshi was sitting on the top of the stairs leaning forward on his knees a glass of wine in his hands. He was staring up at the sky looking for the stars that were hidden between the dark clouds. I hesitated, I just wanted to get out of there, but seeing Hoshi like this…He seemed so—vulnerable in this moment and I kind of wanted to take advantage of it.

So, I slowly approached him and sat next to him on the cold stairs. As he felt my presence, he didn't even look at me, he just looked down at the glass in his hands, his features seemed full of regret and shame. I didn't want to be the first to say something. I tried to imply that I was there if he wanted to tell me something because I really deserved that. I took him in, while he was deep in his thoughts, he was wearing the same black cap turned backward, his ashy hair that grew down to his nape lolling out from the cap. He was dressed up in full black clothes, a sweater with black writings on its chest, and its sleeves decorated with white flowers, paired with black oversized pants and black sneakers. A cross was hanging from his neck that swung between him and the glass he was holding.

"Why are you here?" He breaks the silence, his voice unstable.

"Just wanted to escape from inside, it's boring." I hated him, but seeing him like this I couldn't be mean to him.

Hoshi just nodded still analyzing the glass in his hands.

"And you?" I asked looking at his sharp side profile, his cheekbones puffy like a hamster.

He shrugged. "My parents won't let me go home and it's boring without—" He stopped when he realized what he was about to say. He seemed angry at himself at that as I was observing him. He was drunk and, in this state, it felt like the old Hoshi was screaming at this person next to me to let him out of the prison he made. I knew my Hoshi was still there I just needed to somehow fight with this poisoned Hoshi.

"You know this shit is very boring without you. There's no one I could gossip with about Uncle Chanyeol's third wife." I said what he didn't finish and tried to lessen the sour mood a bit.

At that, he snapped his head up to look at me with surprised eyes. There he was, the Hoshi I loved so much. Many emotions went through his face as he took me in, finally looking into my eyes, finally seeing me after half a year.

"Well, the second was much uglier not gonna lie." He said looking back at the glass as he downed it until the last drops.

I hummed. "Not to be a bad person but he looks like a witch, who would curse you the second you stay alone with her."

And Hoshi laughed out wholeheartedly, that made my heart whole again. The sound of his laughter puzzled the pieces of my heart together. It made me realize how important he was in my life, and how much of an influence he was in my life. Everything he did affected me, even if it was good or bad, I felt the same way as him. I felt like he was my soulmate and if he was hurt I was hurt as well. It made me realize that I loved him so much not just as my best friend but as my soulmate. But after he pushed me, it faded. And I hoped it'd be gone in seconds, but as I heard him laugh again, made me realize it was never going to fade.

I smiled, hearing him laugh sincerely again, knowing it wasn't fake. Then as he realized what he was doing, his laughter faded into a smile and his smile faded into a thin line.

"You shouldn't speak to me." The sour Hoshi from moments ago had returned.

"Yeah…I shouldn't." I looked down at my hands fiddling with my rings taking in the sour emotions Hoshi was feeling.

"You know…" He broke the silence that fell on us, looking up at the sky. "…I always wanted to be perfect, and I truly believed I was, just until…" He looked down at his hands again as he tried to hold his tears back. I just listened to him, letting him speak whatever he wanted out of his heart.

"I'm so tired, I'm so tired of pretending everything is fine, Y/N." He buried his face into his hands, sobbing.

Tears started to appear immediately in my eyes seeing him like this. I scooted closer to him and hugged him, pulling him to my chest as he was still sobbing. "It fucked up everything— a-and I don't know what to do with my life anymore." He mumbled into the crock of my neck, wetting it with sour tears that made my heart break again.

"I know, I know it's hard Hoshi." I caressed his back up and down as I leaned my head on top of his, staring into the dark and chilly night. "There's life outside of football too. You can't just push away everyone you love, because some shit happened to your life. It's not fair and you know that."

He was quiet for a few moments, to take my words in and slowly lifted his head to look into my eyes. His eyes were red and puffy, his eyes barely visible, as the tears were still flowing down his puffy cheekbone, his lips trembling a little from the flow of emotions. "I-I know I fucked up and you have no idea how much I regret it. Pushing away my real friends and my parents. But mostly you, Y/N." One tear flew down his face again.

I slowly reached my hand towards his cheeks and cupped it just to wipe the sour tears away from his face. "I'm sorry for pushing you away…I really miss you, you being by my side all the time…" His eyes still stared deeply into mine.

I sighed, detaching my hands from his face, and letting it fall onto my lap. "I miss you too, Hoshi. But…you really treated me like shit, it hurt you know." I tried to blink away the tears that tried to escape.

"I know, I know, I was such an asshole, please forgive me.” He turned towards me.  “You really deserve better than that…" He said reaching for my hands, but along the way, he knocked over the glass that was between us. It made me realize he was just drunk and who knows tomorrow he is going to be the asshole Hoshi again.

I smiled at him sadly. "Go home Hoshi and sleep." I stood up and left him there without waiting for an answer.

Days later, it was already late at night when my phone rang just as I arrived home and parked my car, after a tiring day, as I was at classes all day and learning for the exams at the library. I sighed as I turned the engine off to pick up my phone, where the name of Hoshi's mother showed. I frowned as I picked it up.

"Y/N, darling, I'm glad you picked it up." Her voice seemed hurried and full of concern.

"Hi, what happened?" I asked her, leaving the formalities behind ages ago, as she treated me like I was her other daughter.

"I just wanted to ask, if you saw Hoshi today. We've been looking for him all day, but his phone is off and we don't know where he is." I heard as her voice got a little weaker.

"I saw him last night, but that's all, I'm sorry," I said looking down at my hands, running through the maze of my thoughts.

"Oh, okay, maybe it's better if I call the police, I am very concerned." Her voice deepened as she was thinking. "Anyways, thank you Y/N, I hope you are okay, we miss you." She wanted to hang up but I stopped her.

"Wait—, I might— I might know where he is, give me an hour and I'll find him," I said a little hurriedly as a place appeared in my head.

"Okay, thank you so much, Y/N." She seemed a little relieved at that.

I hung up the phone and quickly started the engine of my car, just to drive through the town to a place no one would search for Hoshi. And it was the football field. It sounds ridiculous but, why would anyone search for him there? When he didn’t step on that field since his injury happened?

When I arrived there, I still had doubts about him being at the field. But all my doubts disappeared when I saw him on the barely lit field, the moon above him shining at his presence. I approached the fence that separated us and just observed him as he was facing me, but he couldn't see me as the darkness hugged me around.

He was standing in the middle of the field the ball in his hands; he was wearing black shorts and a beige sweater on top the black cap never leaving his head. He squeezed it like he wanted to drown it like it could've helped make his misery better. Then he lifted his right hand in the air and threw the ball into the chilly air, his first intuition was to run after the ball, and he tried, but his knees buckled and he fell on the ground. My heart broke at the image of him breaking on the field of his dreams, I couldn't watch him suffer anymore. I stepped on the field slowly; he was still lying down with his face down and his shoulders were shaking. I walked towards the ball and took it in my hands. Then I walked towards him soundlessly.

"Hey!" I yelled at him while I was walking towards him. He snapped his head up at the sound. "Catch the ball!" I said not leaving him to think as I threw the ball towards him.

He quickly stood up, wincing from the pain, that his still unhealed, injury caused, and caught the ball.

"What are you doing here?" He tried to turn away from me, so I wouldn't see his face that screamed he was crying.

"The question is mine." I folded my arms together frowning at him.

He shrugged. "Needed to clear my head." He looked down at the ball and picked at some strings on it, not daring to look into my eyes.

"Your family is searching for you."

"I know." He spoke. "But I just wanted to get away from home."

"Why?"

"Because they want to control my life, and I can't stand it anymore." He turned away from me, looking up at the sky.

"Well, at least they are doing it, instead of you." I said stepping closer to him.

He suddenly threw the ball to the green grass with a wave of anger the ball almost bounced back to his hands.

"Hoshi, what is going on with you? It's not you." I said trying to stay calm.

"Well, you have to live with this, because this is me." He yelled at me turning towards me and pointing at himself.

My heart started to race, he kind of scared me. "No, it isn’t you, you changed." My voice got quieter as I stared down at the ground. Now I was the one not daring to look into his eyes.

"People change, and then what?" He lifted his arms in the air frowning.

"You act ridiculous, you know? You lost football and now you think you are a nobody?" I scoffed at him in disbelief.

"Football was the only thing that made me feel alive." He lifted his hands and turned around showing the field. "You can't fucking understand what am I going through." He pointed at me raising his voice.

I scoffed. "No, I really can't understand Hoshi." I looked deep into his eyes. "But I really tried to be by your side after your injury but you just threw me away just like that fucking ball.

 “I pointed at the ball in his hands. "I get it, I get that football was your life, but life sometimes sucks and you have to live with it, it can't be perfect…" My voice cracked as the emotions flew through me. "…nothing can be perfect Hoshi, neither can you…"

Tears started to appear in my eyes and I turned around. "You are on your own now." As soon as I turned tears flew down my face, and my heart broke into a million pieces again, but it was worse than everything beforehand because hope left my soul as well leaving nothing behind but dust.

I was near the fence where the exit was when I heard him.

"Y/N, wait!" He yelled after me, but I just closed him out.

All of a sudden all I could feel was that I was being pushed against the fence, which made a loud noise, as it echoed around us like bird chirping. His face was close to mine, his hands on both sides of my waist as he pushed me against the fence.

"Please listen to me." His voice was barely a whisper, that I felt on my lips.

I didn't say anything as I was too stunned being this close to him, his dark peachy scent hugged me around, making me feel woozy.

"I'm confused, okay?" His hands left my waist and he supported himself on the fence on both sides of my head. "It's…" He sighed and took off his cap with his right hand to run his fingers through his silver hair. This hair color fitted him so well, he changed but it was still him. He threw his cap on the ground now his hair falling into his eyes as he looked at me. "It's not just about football. It's about you Y/N."

My heart started to race quickly as I just looked at him with wide eyes.

He leaned closer. "The reason I pushed you away was because I wanted to be more than friends. And I knew you didn't want that." He leaned his forehead against mine. “I couldn't be friends with you anymore so I pushed you away before I fell in love with you more." His voice was low as he closed his eyes. "I was not ready for love, not when I knew you weren't as well." He whispered it and I barely could hear what he said.

"But," he continued not letting me say a word. "I realized I can’t live without you, because you are my escape from this fucked-up world and you are my purpose on this earth. I know that my life won't suck if you are by my side and that with your help, I can put my life together again." His voice crackled as tears formed in his eyes when he opened them again.

I was stunned to speak; I never could've imagined that Hoshi was thinking of me like that. But at the same, I was waiting for this moment my whole life.

"You are so stupid, Hoshi," I said the first thing that came to my mind after I gathered my thoughts. I reached my hands towards his swollen face and cupped it.

"I was in love with you my whole life," I said to him honestly.

His barely visible eyes rounded his mouth fell open, he looked so adorable. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm not. Well, I'm sure it wasn't that deep when we were kids, but…since we grew up and started university together I fell in love with you deeper as the days passed Hoshi, and I couldn't help it." I looked down on the ground feeling shy as I just put my heart out in front of him. "My heart broke when you pushed me away…"

He slowly reached his hands towards my waist, squeezing it reassuringly, and leaned his forehead against mine. "I am so sorry, Y/n, for being so stupid, I won't ever forgive myself for treating you like that." He whispered onto my lips, his cold breath against mine, our cold breaths mixed just to melt into each other.

"You deserve the whole world, Y/N. And please let me give you the world, forgive me." He whispered the last few words, coming out like forgotten promises.

I smiled at him as if my eyes were sparkling from the happiness I felt. "Are you ready for love?"

He smiled fondly and looked at me like I was his whole world. "I'm ready for love. Can we stay together forever? I will give—"

"Just kiss me already you idiot." I interrupted him impatiently.

He chuckled and cupped my face, just to push me more into the fence that hurt my back, but not until one of his hands reached behind my back to pull me off the fence, body flesh against his. My lips curved into a sincere smile. I couldn't believe my soulmate had just confessed to me and promised me the world.

"You give me purpose." He whispered onto my lips like sweet promises and closed the distance between our parted lips. When his lisp met mine, the world stopped spinning, everything slowed down, the clocks stopped ticking, and the rivers stopped flowing. Everything stopped. It was just the two of us in this world, as he promised me the world, and with this kiss, he gave it to me. His lips moved against mine slowly, passionately, like he wanted to carve this moment into the history books, where two best friends went through ups and downs just like a roller-coaster, so in the end, they were finally ready to love each other wholeheartedly, staying together forever.

*Ateez masterlist*

[brittscafe]

NSFW request for aizen x f! Reader who has harboring feelings for him and he betrays soul society, but when she starts to move on, he basically starts visiting her at night to remind who she belongs to?

Of course!!! <3 <3

Your heart was shattered when you found out that Aizen Sosuke had betrayed the Soul Society. Not only had he betrayed the Soul Society, he had betrayed the people who live there, too.

Mostly, he had shattered your heart into a million pieces. Aizen had hurt you and put in through the ringer. You were tired of being heart broken and hoping that Aizen would come back.

He was never going to come back and you had just started to accept that.

The candles light up the bathroom with an orange light, bringing warmth into the room.

Your body lays in the tub, surrounding by the hot water, steaming rise up from the top layer. You let out a heavy sigh and close your eyes, your muscles relaxing.

Your eyelids slowly flutter open and lock onto a candle. The flame has gone out, suddenly. You knit your eyebrows together and sit up in the tub, glancing around.

Aizen stands behind you, eyes studying the back of your head. His hand grabs onto a fistful of your hair and tugs on it.

A gasp leaves your lips and you glance behind you. Your eyes widen and you squirm out of Aizen's grasp, moving over to the other side of the tub.

"It's been awhile, y/n. Did you miss me?" Aizen coos out, a smirk playing along his face.

He no longer wears his glasses and his long brown hair is mostly pushed away from his face, expect two long strands hanging down in front of his eyes.

You squeeze your thighs together and bring your knees up to your chest, trying to hide your body in the water. Your cheeks flush as Aizen starts to take off his clothes.

Your eyes widen as they rake over his bare chest, muscles flexing and bulging.

"What are you doing here?" you choke out. Aizen throws his head back, letting a loud laughter that fills the room. He continues to undress himself without a single care in the Soul Society.

"For you, of course. I could feel you slipping away," his pants drop to the ground. You quickly glance away, trying to pay attention to anything other than the bulge in his boxers and aching sensation in between your thighs.

"What do you mean?" you scoff out, seeing Aizen pull down his boxers from the side of your eye.

"I know the certain type of feelings you harbored for me before I left. I came back to remind you who you belong to," Aizen explains and you glance over at him.

"I don't belong to you, Aizen," you scoff out, your eyes shifting down and they widen. His thick, long cock hangs in between his thighs and he smirks to himself.

"Oh? We'll have to fix that," Aizen comments, slowly walking over to you. Your gaze is captured by his dark eyes and he cups your jaw, tilting your head up.

You cannot stop him from pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes widen and you moan against his lips, slowly fluttering your eyelids shut.

His lips are soft and warm against yours, tasting yours. It feel so damn good, but it's wrong.

You press your hand to Aizen's chest and push him away.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you hiss out. The burning on your lips stings with a delicious desire for more. Your chest pounds heavily and you sink deeper into the water.

He left you, you shouldn't feel this way about him. He'll just leave again, this time leaving you wanting more.

"I'm going to remind you...just exactly who you belong to," Aizen explains with a dangerously low voice. His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing lightly and your heart skips a beat.

He peppers your jawline in soft, wet kisses, slightly sucking on your skin. His free hand glides down your chest to your aching core.

Feeling his rough fingerpads glide over your clit makes your eyes widen. His slender fingers rubbing your folds and you whimper. Aizen slides a finger inside of your wet pussy and you inhale sharply.

The pad of his finger pokes your g-spot repeatedly and it sends waves of pleasure through your stomach. You spread your thighs apart, wanting to feel more of his strokes that make you feel so damn good.

A soft moan escapes your lips and a smirk tugs on Aizen's face. His dark eyes meet yours, filled with satisfaction and lust.

"Damn it," you hiss out underneath your breath, cursing yourself to allow Aizen to pleasure you like this. You place your hands on his upper back, nails digging into his skin.

"Keep going," you demand, feeling his finger stop all movements inside of you. Aizen cocks an eyebrow at you and runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Say please," he cups your jaw, staring deeply into your eyes. In that moment, all your self respect and everything your mind was telling you was thrown out.

"Please, Aizen," you speak softly and he lets go of your jaw, hand slipping into his boxers. He strokes his hard cock and groans quietly as you watch in awe.

He removes his boxers and climbs into the tub with you, pulling onto his lap. Your legs are spread enough for Aizen to do whatever he pleases to you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, bracing yourself as he slides another finger into your warm pussy.

It brings you such joy to have Aizen's fingers stuffed inside of you, stroking and gliding against your sweet spot. Your mouth gapes open slightly as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

The way his fingers move are heavenly, getting coated in your warm arousal as they nuzzle your g-spot with a steady rhythm. Aizen grinds his hard cock into your inner thigh, clenching his jaw.

His thumb flicks at your clit and you inhale sharply, feeling your body shiver from the feeling of such pleasure.

"This is what you wanted all along, right?" Aizen teases you, his free hand reaching down to grab his aching cock. You bite on your bottom lip as he continues to thrust his fingers deeper inside of you.

"Y-yes. It feels so good to have your fingers inside of me," you groan out, eyebrows furrowing together. Aizen starts to pump his hard cock, leaning his head back and letting out a deep breathe.

You continue to sway your hips back and forth, your breathing become heavier and your moans turning into filthy whimpers. Aizen's hand speeds up the pace as he's stroking his cock as he shoves his fingers inside of your cunt.

He could feel himself coming closer just like you were. Your thighs are starting to shake and sweat is starting to form along your forehead.

Aizen's noticed that you grip on his shoulders has become tighter each time he curls his fingers up against that sweet, plushy spot inside of your pussy.

A loud moan leaves your lips as the feeling of his fingers continuously hitting your sweet spot and his thumb swirling around your swollen clit start to become too much.

"Come on, y/n. Let it out for me," Aizen coos, his fingers endlessly pumping at your g-spot. Your moans soon turn into loud, begging gasps as your face twists.

Your thighs quiver and you cling onto Aizen as your orgasm rips through your body. The sound of you climaxing almost made Aizen cum.

"F-fuck," he mumbles underneath his breath as you hunch over his figure. His hand is practically fisting his cock as hard as he can, groaning and grunting heavily.

Aizen's mouth gapes open as hot ropes of cum shoot through the tip of his cock. His breath stutters as he milks out the last of his cum dripping out.

Your core is still needy, wanting more of him. You run your tongue over your bottom lip as you watch Aizen's chest heave up and down.

He shifts his weight, sliding you off of him as he stands up. You watch as he becomes like a giant, standing above you as the water runs down his glorious muscles and thighs.

His soft cock in between his thighs and your core pulses.

"Now...I'll be here around the same time tomorrow night," Aizen warns you with a deeply unsettling voice.

"You're leaving?" you ask in awe, eyes widening. Aizen chuckles and lowers down to you, cupping your jaw and meeting your eyes.

"Tomorrow night, I'll give you what you really want."

tags: @aizenwifey

[fizzyxcustard]

One Night.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, sexual references, angst, heartbreak, insecurity.

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You spend the night with Thorin, and then out of insecurity, you leave him." Requested by @lathalea. Timeframe of post-BOTFA requested by @sotwk

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thorin was lay beside you, his breathing slow. You watched his chest rise and fall. His dark eyelashes fluttered and his eyes moved beneath their lids. He had fallen asleep not long after your final round of love making. 

You sighed. He was so beautiful, and didn’t even know it. 

The night had become full of tension, which had followed his coronation celebration. Of course you attended, being a close friend of the new king. For many months and you had travelled alongside him, helping and fighting for him to re-take the mountain kingdom of Erebor. Thorin had taken you aside, complimenting you on your attire for the celebration, his blue eyes alight for you. Your first kiss had been outside the main hall, in a cold, empty hallway. Everything else that had followed was back in his bed chamber. The two of you had snuck away, hand in hand, still stealing secret kisses along the hallways. 

Never before had you ever been touched in such a way as how Thorin touched you. His hot skin sent intense vibrations through you. His gaze made your heart thunder, and pulsate in other parts of your body, acknowledging just how aroused you were. His voice made sighs slip off your tongue so effortlessly. 

You kept your eyes on him as he slept, recollecting the beautiful memories of him opening his heart, soul and body to you. When he had first slipped inside you, he had been over you, his large hands holding your legs open. You had welcomed him so freely in those moments. However, in your second round of pleasure seeking, you had climbed on top of him. He was laid out beneath you, vulnerable, offering it all. Those hands had been clamped on your hips, guiding your movement as the two of you ascended higher towards that wonderful, earth shattering climax. The third and final time, Thorin had been behind you. His lips remained on your neck and shoulder, showing you that even when he could not see your face, he still adored you and admired your beauty. 

This was all wrong. Thorin was the most amazing man you had ever met. And you were just mediocre. Nothing special or of substantial value. You looked upon his sleeping form, studying his slim lips which peeped from beneath his moustache. His beard was neatly trimmed, despite him now growing it longer after reclaiming Erebor. That was a promise he had made many years ago. Once the mountain was re-claimed and he would grow his beard back long, as was custom with the Longbeard Dwarves. 

Slowly, and you slipped out of bed. There was an ache in your chest. You loved Thorin so much more than you could ever express, but you were not worthy of his hand. A royal Dwarf deserved someone of standing and position, not a commoner like yourself. 

Tears fell down your cheeks, reminding you of the man you were originally pledged to many years ago. He had told you he loved you, showered you with gifts, but made it known through his behaviour that you meant very little to him. His actions did not speak louder than his words. And, of course, his attention then swept elsewhere. Thorin would no doubt do the same. Such a beautiful soul would never cherish you and mean it! If this man from your past could not love you, then surely Thorin couldn’t either. 

But you had never been touched, kissed and made love to in such a way as that! Every movement made you quake beneath Thorin’s touch, and his whispers of adoration made you shiver. Maybe he just knew how to please women and had rehearsed the words many times. 

You re-dressed and slipped out of the chamber, giving Thorin one last glance. The ache hit you hard once again and you placed your hand on your mouth, stifling the uncontrollable sobs. 

The halls were quiet and dark, with only the faint light of torchlight guiding your way. And by the time you made it back to your room, you grabbed a quill, ink and parchment. Your hand shook as you tried to write, which meant that your normally laced handwriting became more squiggled. A tear fell onto the parchment, splashing, and caused a swirl of black ink to form under your signature. 

***

Thorin woke, his eyes adjusting to the dark room. He looked up at the ceiling of the room and sighed, recollecting the evening before. And as soon as he saw your face in his mind’s eye, he turned to see you had disappeared. He called your name into the gloom. 

A dread hit him and his stomach twisted into a hard knot. Something was wrong. 

Why would you disappear like this? Even though you could have just slipped back to your own bed chamber, Thorin felt something in the depth of his very being that told him that he would not find you there. 

Thorin pulled on a robe, tying it at his waist, and made his way to your room, his mind full of questions. He didn’t even knock as he got to your door and let himself in, finding the room empty. A lump swelled in his throat. He approached your desk. A candle had been lit, and there under the flickering light, was a piece of parchment. 

My dearest Thorin, 

I cannot remain here. I do not belong. I will never be enough for you, my love. Go and find happiness. May Mahal bless you. 

The letter was simple. 

Thorin crumpled the letter in his hands, feeling a whole array of emotion wash over him. Terror and frustration seemed to form the knot in his stomach, which was now gaining momentum. Only the night before and Thorin had been on the verge of offering everything to you, a life together. That was all Thorin wanted. You, in every way. He thought that you had been willing to give yourself to him. You had even told him you loved him, shivered at his touch, become undone beneath him. The two of you had panted, sweat, groaned against each other. How could he just let all of that go? 

He would not let you go. 

He could not. 

***

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The Hobbit tag list: @flowerniche

[cod-z]

Wanted to write angst, get some of my inner thoughts out because I like to mentally abuse myself. The thought of dog tags… just hurts me

TW: Angst/No comfort

| One-shots |

Reblog & Likes are appreciated🥀

2 months ago you had said your ‘goodbyes’ to your beloved, holding one another in a long lasting embrace and giving bittersweet kisses for their safe return, your heart aching as you watch them enter the car and leave off into the distance, into the unknown as you hope that somewhere, beyond the of the human’s eyes and soul - someone is watching out for your solider.

You wait patiently for the arrival of your love, making them breakfast even when they aren’t there, putting their favourite movie and cuddling into their clothes as you imagine that they were there with you throughout the months that passed by - wondering what they were doing, if they were safe, if they were at least getting a decent amount of rest and food.

You knew of their job.

Going on missions, going off raider, no-contact for months on end, rarely contacting when they had a chance but not for long.

You agreed to this when you had decided that you’ll love them forever, be with them as your heart could give, watching the hours tick by and hoping they’ll return to you to hopefully create more memories before they go off into the fields again and disappear to who knows where. Letting that ache of your heart return.

—

Standing in front of him, your eyes lingering into his harden and stern gaze, making your heart flurry immensely against your chest, the way you lose your breath as you first met him in that hallway - barracks at the side and the office doors on the other.

Both of you lingered before parting ways as if nothing had happened in that fleeting moment that you spent staring at one another.

Yet you meet again.

Your eyes on him and his on yours, the briefing had yet to start and here you two were in your own worlds, heart in sync, close and yet so far. Neither of you daring to talk one another and remain as co-workers.

Both wanting more than that.

—

A knock interrupting your memories as how you two once were in the past, smiling softly at the awkwardness that had occurred between the two of you, wiping away the water from your hands on the hand towel that was wrapped around the oven handle, you walked towards the door - waiting for it to be him.

Your eyes widen slightly at his squad mate, before your smile returns, slightly confused why he was there but you felt it.

You felt that sudden change in the air.

You shrug it off and await to see what the man had to say before you second-guess anything.

However…

The feeling of metal collided with your palm that you didn’t even know you held out, deaf to the words he had said before taking out the metal jewellery, your heart clenched as your head felt light, your breath shaking and trembling as you slowly lower your eyes down to the palm of your hands. The metal necklace swirled directly into the centre where two tags sat perfectly.

Your breath hitched. Your throat closed. Your vision blurring.

“He’s gone…”

Those two words had meant nothing compared to the evidence in your hands.

The dog-tags sat perfectly in your grasp and you hate it that it did, your heart felt like someone had stabbed it over and over again, your lungs felt like a snake had constricted itself around it, your body slowly starts to register the news that was brought to you - he was gone.

His friend, his squad-mate, reaches to place a hand on your shoulder as he grieves with you with the loss.

You felt yourself slip away.

Your body sliding down onto your knees as your hand left the doorframe to wrap around your hand that clenched tightly to the dog-tags that were his, holding it close to your shattered heart, your eyes staring at pavement as if it knew all along what happened to your lover.

You watch as the ground turns to a dark grey from the tears that you didn’t know that were forming in your eyes, it hurts so much, he was gone.

You hiccup as more tears fall onto the ground.

Before letting out a cry in anguish to your fallen soldier, your love, your life, your soul.

The other party only looks at you with a solemn expression as well his own grievance to the situation, he stands at the door with you as your curl onto the ground with the dog-tags that belonged to his friend, his brother-in-arms - silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he uses his helmet to cover it.

—

“I think… I hate your dog-tags,” you glared at the metal around his neck.

“Why?” chuckling at your random statement.

“I’m scared the moment you take it off, you’re gone…”

A/N: Personally, I’m not sorry-

Divider Credit(s): @saradika

[inyourgravehcs]

♡ Listen to me ♡

❥ TAGS: hurt/comfort, descriptions of symptoms of mental illnesses (hallucinations, paranoia, painful psychosomatic sensations such as suffocation).

Where in this world can two broken souls find their place if not in each other's arms?

Broken heart and shattered mind. The bloody splinters of the fragments of the past are digging deeper into the wounded consciousness with each step, slowly and painfully bringing the already exhausted mind to it's limit. This is probably how others envisioned Blade; but what about you?

Not everyone is lucky enough to be blessed with a clear, sane mind. Mental torment is not exclusive, but it would be foolish to deny that some are less fortunate in that regard than others. Perhaps that's how you and Blade came together - it's not every day you meet someone who can understand and share that pain even the slightest bit. Your road to trust was thorny and difficult: what's it like, trying to connect when both parties are in constant survival mode and won't just open up to anyone? To meet Blade under the influence of mara was to be chased away and away for longer; to meet you while your mental health is acting up was to hear you mumble unintelligibly that he shouldn't see you in such a state.

But even from such a vicious circle, there's always a way out. In the most vulnerable moments, it becomes impossible to cling to pride: with each bandaged wound on the exhausted body, with each hour spent in shared silence, the relationship between you two became more and more trusting. Here it is - a small island of comfort just for the two of you, found in the most unexpected place. Or is it the most expected?

Slowly, by trial and error, an unusual relationship was formed. Without fancy confessions, without loud words - two soulless shells with empty hearts nestled into each other, sharing the last particles of warmth. You and Blade don't even have to reveal your relationship: to anyone who knows anything about you two, the inference will be obvious. It's hard to see Y/N in a sane state of mind, and it's hard to see Blade in a tolerant mood... But somehow it's this tandem that makes it possible and not such a rare occurrence.

However, peaceful days can't last forever.

No matter how hard you try, frustration won't stop accumulating, even if you apply balm to the inflamed soul. Just one drop - the very last one - and the mind slips into all-consuming despair. The heaviness narrows in a tight ring around your thin neck, digging it's barbed wires into the irritated flesh and denying any access to air. As the resinous, viscous panic drips down the parched walls of the throat, mingling with the salty taste of tears, images take over your sight and hearing. Ugly, garish, unrelated to reality - but no less frightening. Fear shackles every of your limb, and all that remains is to be sucked into the dark substance that overflows the skull to the brim. Through such strong pain and illusions, it would seem that nothing can break through until they collapse by themselves - but one voice, so familiar and close, still finds it's way through the dense veil of madness. That voice...

"Listen to me."

It was his voice. Blade was there; he was clutching your curled body in his arms, shielding you like a wall from all inclement weather. Paranoid fear made you want to break free, but knowing what a bone-crushing embrace this man had, you wouldn't have dared such a venture even in your most disturbed state of mind.

"Listen to me."

The soft strokes on your head sent shivers down the length of your spine. Blade wasn't the type to be verbally supportive - he was generally unaware of the impact his words could have. But what he was saying now... He had memorized Kafka's words that would normally free him from the shackles of insanity. He used this memorized words solely for your sake, unaware that they were more effective than any spirit whisper. You knew perfectly well that he was probably saying it more to reassure himself at that moment and not to seem weak in front of you, but the very fact of using them...

"Listen to me."

Your arms hug him back as your nose burrows into the curve between his neck and shoulder. Your eyes bleed tears, falling onto the dark fabric of Blade's coat and leaving wet stains behind, but neither you nor he cares.

"I'm here for you."

Because you have each other. And as long as it stays that way, machinations of two unhealthy minds aren't so terrible.

♡ ── ✦ ──『♡』── ✦ ── ♡

Please note that english isn't my native language and can be awkward at times.

Please don't translate or repost my works without asking for my permission first!

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Torrid (Geo x My/Any MC/Reader) (Part 2/2)

TO ALL THE MANDIVIDUALS AND TO THE ANONS FROM ALL THE PLANES, I GIFT YOU THE SECOND PART OF THIS GEO x MC ONESHOT.

A/N: So, I know this was meant to be out a week ago and I am SO SORRY TO EVERYONE! I have health issues.

This is an original work, made and thought up entirely by me.

PART 1 LINK: Gelid (Part 1)

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Torrid: very hot and dry.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your eyes ached; the darkness of their lids shielding you from the dim lights that threatened to shine past its pitch darkness, morphing the dark shrouds into muted cacophonies of flame-oranges and honey-yellows.

“Hnn…”

You wonder, briefly, if you’re even still alive. The torrid birching of summer had cooked your flesh, fried your mind-circuits and seared your soul…but this didn’t feel like summer.

Your body feels toasty, as if a warm spring breeze was gently caressing its balmy palms over your unmoving form. Gently soothing and healing the harsh burns that summer’s scorching ornery had devastated upon you.

You notice, in your comatose state, that the light has started to grow more radiant, more luminous, more intense; as if a match had been struck inside the gloom and murk of your consciousness, illuminating the umbra in chandeliers of twinkling lights.

You felt yourself gradually commencing the tedious process of reaching the gates of hypnopompia, whilst somewhere far away, a faint beep started piecemealing its way into your mind. Its annoying chiming reverberates in your skull.

Beep…Beep…Beep…

You feel a wave of irritation slash through the numbing murk, shattering the calm into sharp, serrated shards; their whetted edges piercing and dragging their points into the fogged veils of your somnolent state.

If you weren’t waking earlier, you are now.

But your eyelids felt so heavy, so leaden. How could you possibly slip out of your subconsciousness’ anteroom if your body wouldn’t abide by your minds’ commands?

The beeping was becoming more domineering over the murked blur of the quiet noises that encircled your head. 

What in the absolute fuck is that shit?

…am I dead? That’d make a lot of sense actually.

The noise began to pulse in your ears, slowly punching your brain-fogged mind into a state of configuration. 

You should open your eyes, lift the accursed flesh-lids that curtained them and let the radiance of the world puncture your pupils and blind you.

Aight…MC…you got this girlypop…you got this.

1…2…wait. Nah, that’s fucking stupid. Whoever actually gets up when they count to three is too self-controlled. 

What motivates you. That is the query. 

Geo…? Geo would whoop my ass for sleeping in.

God he’s fucking awesome.

You hiss, before gingerly opening your weaker eye.

Then you immediately shut it, because, well, your pupils are so used to the shadows that the overhead flare-bright lights have probably blinded them. You wince, a scalding pain begins its fervid assault on your eye socket. 

Owie.

You think you swallow. Your throat distinctly — and painfully — aches from the force. 

You faintly grimace.

As your cerebrum continues its reboot, your physicality and its wounds become more obvious to you. What once was benumbed progressively became blisteringly arid, parching your skin and clawing at the dried walls of your esophagus.

You think you hear a voice; a heavenly harmony that continues to cautiously pry you from the darkness. A siren, come to guide you towards her island, towards your doom.

But…waking up wouldn’t be your doom, right? 

Well. It would be if I happened to be in some psychotic lunatic’s basement. That’d suck.

Either way, you had to assert dominance over your stubborn body. 

Okay. Baby steps…baby steps.

You agonisingly slowly begin to open your eyes, aiming to at least squint. Any sign that you were alive was good, especially if you get to hear that beautiful voice again.

Your eyelids pried open a crack, the dazzle of the overhead whites and yellows immediately abusing its power over your weakened eyes.

No…c’mon MC. You’ve got this.

Fortunately, eventually, your eyes began adjusting.

Marvellous. Now…gotta sit up.

You tried to move your arms, testing whether moving them was even a possibility in your current state. You move your focus to your hands, making attempts to flex them or to inch your fingers around, to get a feel for your surroundings.

As soon as your hand left your side, it felt horrifically cold, as if some wraith had exsanguinated all the warmth from your soul and left your body a frore husk. You shamefully retract it into the comfortable cocoon of…blankets?

Oh my god…blankets! I love blankets. Blankets are wonderful.

You felt a surge of joy fill your heart, its unnervingly swift pounding now serving as a steady background drumbeat to the endless, unbounding bliss that you now felt. Alas, the realisation that you needed to alert someone of your consciousness quickly became the priority in your mind.

You also just happened to acknowledge you didn’t have a clue where you fucking were.

You draw in a deep  gasp, a thinly veiled storm of frustration suddenly onslaughting your mind, pelting your brain with orders to fucking do something. 

“H-. Hell…Hello…?”

Your voice comes out faint and rasped, as if your voice box had rusted to near-irreparability and your tongue had been encased in lead.

“Oh?! Oh my goodness!”

Your ears perk up.

It’s that voice…the pretty one.

The silhouette of a woman comes into view, her head blotting out the ceiling lights and leaving her face anonymous under the shroud of darkness.

“Oh my…I’ll alert the doctor, please relax for now!”

              .  .  .

The next few hours passed by in a blur of boring examinations, excessive interviews with some wacko journalists — who were curious about why the famous, privileged, alleged ‘sex-fiend’ Geo Oogami was seen with you in his car (you were so discombobulated with their choice of nickname that water spouted out your nose like it was a fountain).

Now here you lay, stultified, annoyed and exhausted. The emotional toll it had taken to recall why you decided to lie out in a hailstorm was…immense. You cried multiple times in front of the nurses and doctors, who were demanding every piece of information that they deemed necessary for healing you. Also the consistent beeping of the nearby heart rate monitor was pissing you off, but you understood its pricelessness.

As expected, you had hypothermia, and would have to remain here for at least a week under supervision to ensure your organs and bodily tissues hadn’t suffered any long-lasting or permanent complications.

You were thankfully allowed to read books after about a day, so now at least your crippling, (and very lethal) boredom had a temporary fix.

“MC?”

The angelic voice called out again. The woman – Timea was her name, if you recall correctly — stood in the doorway, before swiftly entering and checking your vitals. After deeming your current state as satisfactory, she turns to you.

“I hear you have a visitor.”

You blinked. You? A visitor? Who the fuck would visit you?

What the shit?

You sit up, the sheets rustling under your weight as you turn to look at the doorway.

And from the unseen depths of the corridor, painted in gilded light, a wild Geo Oogami emerged, his icy turquoise eyes staring right into yours.

You swear you forgot how to breathe.

May God Himself preserve you because if this hypothermia doesn’t kill you, the asphyxiation will. Frankly, you don’t exactly care, you’re too busy gazing upon the angelic, elegant face that belongs to the man who sits at your side. 

“...Why.”

His voice was like a gong, short and straight-to-the-point; yet so firm and demanding that it left you stunned.

His eyes were filled with a thousand shards of broken glass, each one having once belonged to a mosaic birthed of the stars themselves. Maybe the mosaic was like his heart, cold and sharply-edged, yet so beautiful you couldn’t help but look at it with love.

Wouldn’t that mean his heart is shattered though?

“Why what?” Your query seems to have stilled the air, stilled the molecules in the entire room. Geo looked like he’d been frozen in time, before his face turned bitterly ornery.

“Why the fuck did I find you sitting practically naked in the middle of a storm, then have to watch as you die in my car, then have to pay over 10 grand in fines for speeding you to this bloody hospital?”

His voice was far more hiemal and frosty than whatever you’d felt during that storm. It was as if 0° Kelvin itself had been personified, given a permafrozen heart and the voice of a cold wind-whip. You shiver slightly, but how could you not? Like before, you were now in the direct vicinity of the princeling of winter himself. A very unhappy one, at that. 

It was never a good idea to provoke or challenge the wintry wrath of Geo Oogami. Unfortunately, you weren’t exactly the wisest person to have ever lived; a hot burst of annoyance flashed before your eyes, splattering your peripherals in a thousand shades of crimson and scarlet.

“I had my reasons. There’s nothing you need to concern yourself over.” 

The scattered shards in his irises seemed to form into serrated points, each one aimed directly at you, as if his eyes themselves wanted to carve you into pieces.

“Need not worry…? Need. Not. Worry?”

He paused, a small vein prodding under the skin of his temple. You gulped.

“Are you demented?”

He was malding now, a spine-chillingly livid anger in his eyes.

“You could’ve died in my car, under my watch, and it’s not something to be worried about?”

“Aren’t I a nuisance to you either way? What difference would it’ve made if I died?” 

The words are caustic for the walls of your mouth, leaving a bitter coating on your tongue. You’d thought this way for years, yet having your thoughts be thrown into the expanse of the real world, in front of a real man was…different. Especially considering the fact you idolised, respected…maybe even loved this man.

His face was a vial; a potion concocted of shock, disdain and woe slowly morphing the fury into a condensed cloud of sorrow. One that was now waiting to let loose its tears, to pour rain onto the barren soils of the earth beneath.

“How dare you.”

And so, Winter himself looked you in the eye, piercing the veil of whatever hallowed thing was keeping your emotions safely hidden. The aquamarine depths seemed to be slowly exsanguinating you of reason, of any form of logical function. You wanted to drown in them.

Aight. MC. Stop staring at him, he already resents you, he doesn’t need you to fawn over him like that.

You decide to survey the room you were in, it would be easier than continuing to peer into the unknown depths of his eyes. 

White walls. White tiled floor. A couple of pretty paintings. Some fake plants.

A slender bejewelled hand firmly latched onto your chin, steadily, almost like the arms on a clockface, he moved your head towards his.

His hand feels tense, his gelid fingertips bruising the warmth of your flesh. To your left, the bed seems to sink, as if a weight had been strapped unto it.

You still don’t look at him, instead opting to (cautiously) check out his thighs. They were covered by his usual dark pants, the brown fabric ripped and torn in a multitude of places.

God he’s so beautiful. 

“You are as much of a nuisance to me as I am unstylish — not in the slightest.” 

His voice was monotone, yet — unlike earlier — within its melodious notes was a soft melancholic chime; as if his voice had revamped itself into the epitome of dejection and despondency.

You were as astonished as he was uncomfortable.

Then you felt yourself lose every manner of self control as you began to sob your ghastly heart out.

Fucks’ sake MC. Can’t do jackshit right can you?

You feel a few torrid tears leap over the cliffs of your eyelids and crash onto his pale flesh. His eyes follow the wet trails down your face, before smearing it across your cheek.

You felt yourself losing grip over your mind again, trying to catch onto the grains of whatever cognition you had.

Whatever your brain had repressed from that horrific night was flooding through your consciousness, sweeping you off your feet and leaving you stranded on an island in the storm that was your eternal, unbounding sorrow.

But you supposed that’s one of the reasons why you loved Geo oh-so much. He was cold, hard logic; an anchor for your restless, maladaptive thoughts. His chill soothed the hot anger that pulsed beneath you, both from your fate and at the world for stuffing you into a school where you’d never thrive.

But destiny had its ways, you suppose; for even the most treacherous, onerous and dolorous of winters will eventually (and willingly) surrender to the balmy nature of a newborn spring.

“Whatever it was that led you to commit such a stupid act…I hope you can one day entrust me with the context and reasons.” 

“That almost sounds like you care, Geode.”

“Hm. Perhaps.”

You feel his hand, rings and all, land atop your head; before gently, softly, stroking your hair. The tears still fell down your face, but the despair slowly fell muted as you gingerly placed your head on Geo’s shoulder and closed your eyes. 

If you’d had your way, you would’ve squished him to death, but you couldn’t afford to push this. Whatever this was.

“Promise me something, MC.” 

There’s that monotone voice again…

You give a small thumbs-up in affirmation.

“Promise me that you’ll come to me before you resort to such an extreme act. No matter how stupid it may be to you.”

He lowers his hand, it now lurking near yours; and you feel a small ray of confidence shine through the murk of your paranoia.

“...okay.”

And now, cautiously, almost as if fate Herself was puppeting you; you felt your hand grasp the slender fingers of him.

Touch him, partake in a quick, fleeting moment of heavenly contact.

To your surprise?

It wasn’t short, or brief, or sudden.

It felt more purposeful than every breath you’d fucking taken, hell even Geo looked a tad astounded by the prolonged contact.

Your soul feels a little lighter now.

Maybe the enigmatic winter himself would learn to accept the dawn of a flowery, dainty spring. Maybe he’d even accept himself. And hopefully you’d accept yourself too.

[theskeletonprior]

This Tav Tale was commissioned by @quaintrix. Thank you for coming back, and entrusting me again with Solinore! Interested in a Tav Tale of your own? Look here for details. Kar’niss has developed a new fascination. Content Tags: Consensual blood-drinking, attempted cult deprogramming via tadpole Read it here on AO3!

Kar’niss has developed a new fascination. He does not forget his Queen, no, but she has sent this True Soul to him for a reason. Solinore. So much slips away into the dark, but the taste of her blood is emblazoned on his mind. A single bright spark in the shadows, too eye-catching to ignore. He has not been so drawn to anything since he first held his Moonlantern in his hand to light the way. It’s difficult to think of anything else. His hunger is sated. There are not yet new faithful to guide to Moonrise. So Kar’niss follows this fascination. In spite of his size, it’s easy for him to move relatively undetected. The True Souls are not all created equal, and most keep their eyes ahead. They don’t look up. Kar’niss moves in the rafters with a second nature he hadn’t had before Lolth had changed him. He hears Solinore before he sees her, and as he peers down over the broken stone, he understands why.

Araj Oblodra. Her name rings out as clear in his mind as his own. That blood thief. His lips pull back from his fangs, his stomach twisting at the wrongness inside her. The stink of it. The taste. She has his blood, too. Taken from him when the third day had come, and his body was weak, and his desperation had made him incapable of saying no, fighting back. The cut was swift, long healed, but he feels it still. That vampire spawn is with Solinore, the object of Araj’s interest. Kar’niss knows without having heard it, what Araj must have asked of them. The swift cut. The bite. Flood his mouth with the foul taste of her.

They must tell her no, Majesty, he thinks. Say it, True Soul. No. Kar’niss doesn’t realize it when his tadpole connects to Solinore’s, doesn’t realize that she hears him, and is gone before she can look up and answer him. Back to his web, where Araj will not come, for fear that he might fling her from the walls. She does not have enough of his blood to control him anymore, to make him recoil from the idea of harming her. She has not learned now to make it last. His Queen in all of Her great glory protects him. Still, he knows it’s best not to linger, to let Araj see him. She is cunning, and wicked. If she sees him, she will watch, wait for that third day, when he is weak, when he is fragile. Kar’niss scuttles back to his nest, up high, higher, close to his Majesty. He settles in the silks, amongst his threadbare cushions, clutching one to his chest. He breathes slowly, closes his many eyes. The darkness comforts him. He is alone with his Queen, enfolded in her grace that softens his great forgetting. He is not lost, shattered. Merely adrift in the soft shadows. They can be beautiful again, as they had been in the murky before. Sometimes he tries to reach for memory, to what was lost. He knows House Oblodra, the wicked things they’d done before Lolth had leant her aid to House Baenre to strike them down, he knows that the enemy of that spider bitch is his friend, but he knows just as well that Araj Oblodra is not so dear as that. She wants his teeth in her, to watch what her filthy blood does to him.

Kar’niss’ grip tightens on the cushion, the stuffing itching against his chest where it pokes through, but in time, he relaxes again. He is nearly asleep when he hears ascending footsteps. Not the quickstep of goblins, in a hurry to reach his nest so that they can summarily flee from it, not the brisk, soldierly footsteps of one of Z’rell’s minions.

“Who comes, my Queen?” he wonders aloud, moving up in his web, clinging to the outside of the tower. Perhaps he will be fortunate, and it will be some poor fool who doesn’t know better to stay out of the silks. His hunger is not so urgent, yet, but he feeds when he can. The dry bones littering the ground are evidence of this, cracked open so he can suck the marrow out too.

“Ugh, this place is filthy.” Kar’niss has heard this voice before, how it shifts nimbly from honey into venom, thick as blood in the air. A decadent voice. Another answers, and this one he knows, too. Feather-light, relaxed, but in a practiced way. Delicate as lace, and as intricate. He stays out of sight, listening to their banter. Perhaps they mean to go elsewhere, or they’ve become lost in Moonrise. But the voices grow louder. Closer.

“You could’ve stayed downstairs if you’re going to complain the whole time, Astarion.”

“Oh, not to worry, darling. I shan’t complain the whole time. Just most of it.” The heavy curtain draped over what amounts to the doorway leading into Kar’niss’ nest flaps aside. “Wonderful! Nobody home. I don’t suppose that means we can leave now, does it?” Solinore doesn’t bother to respond. Kar’niss can hear her footfalls clearly now, brisk, fearless. She calls to him. He wonders if she knows she’d barely have to speak to conjure him. It is a wonder that she has come back to him of her own accord. You bless us, Majesty.

“Kar’niss?” He hesitates, barely daring to whisper to his Queen for guidance. What if she has struck a bargain with Araj Oblodra? The thought makes him bare his fangs. He doesn’t show himself. “I just want to talk,” Solinore tells him. He can feel her mind, so she must feel his. He’ll be found. His Lady is a bridge between them. “I saw you watching us.”

“What did you tell the blood merchant?” he asks from his place on the wall. Solinore chuckles, and it’s such a bright, airy sound that it almost lures him closer.

“We told her to fuck herself, obviously.” It’s so vulgar that Kar’niss believes it and he moves into sight. He takes in his... Visitors? Solinore, bright and pretty as the first day he’d seen her, and Astarion, handsome in his way but with a lip that’s curled in disdain for his surroundings. Squeamish. “I’ve got a question for you,” Solinore says.

“Ask. We are listening.”

“Why’d you warn us?” Those mismatched eyes look up wonderingly, a curiosity that Kar’niss meets with his own. He hadn’t. Unless he had merely forgotten.

“Did the dark swallow up another piece of us, my Queen?” The vampire spawn scoffs at him.

“Nothing in his head but cobwebs and a wriggling tadpole, I’m afraid. Let’s go.” Solinore waves him off, a faint furrow in her brow.

“You were watching us. You wanted us to tell her no. Why’s that?” Kar’niss has to contain himself.

“Araj Oblodra has stolen blood from us,” he says. “Her House is wicked, and none of what she offers will do you any good. You were wise, spawn, to keep your fangs out of her neck. She would prey on you.”

“You don’t say.” Astarion rolls his eyes. Red like rubies, deep underground. Jealous, he remembers. Solinore had called him jealous, once. Make me patient, my Queen. Kar’niss inhales through his teeth. This man means something to Solinore, and what he knows for certain is that she has been blessed by the Absolute. He must be here for a reason. For the moment, Solinore pays him no mind.

“You helped us,” she says. “So now, I’m here to help you.” Kar’niss cocks his head. Another strange offer, and one made for nearly nothing.

“We did not help. I watched, nothing more.”

“Well, then this is a steal for you,” Astarion chimes in, dodging nimbly when Solinore elbows at him. Kar’niss descends from his web. See my faith in you, Majesty.

“There is nothing that I need that my Queen cannot provide,” he says, and the vampire spawn laughs at him. The mocking sound makes Kar’niss bare his teeth.

“Quite a boast, with an illithid tadpole curled up nice and snug inside your brain.”

“Lies!” Kar’niss nearly lunges. “They call you an abomination, Majesty! An intrusion.” The snarl reverberates deep in his chest, his hand itching for his sword before Solinore comes between them. He bends, snatching her face in his hand, long claws brushing against the delicate skin as he searches her eyes as though he could see the truth in their mismatched color. This is not enough to frighten her, though he sees it when Astarion reaches for his scimitars. Solinore’s hand closes gently around his wrist, and then her mind touches his. It isn’t the overwhelming force of the Absolute, but something gentler. She is only asking, and he yields. He lets her in, and she shows him a vision of true horror. The illithids, the nautiloid... All of it through her eyes. It is a torment that passes in an instant, crowding his mind with day after day of this infection. Kar’niss cannot believe it. He has been taken in. Deceived. When he recoils, it’s with force enough to send Solinore stumbling. “Blasphemy! Blasphemy!” This cannot be, my Queen. There is steel at his throat before he can rear back, before he can arm himself.

“I think that’s more than enough.” The vampire spawn is not so gentle, but Kar’niss sees it in his mind, too. There is a presence, enfolding them in its protection, and when it reaches him too, he can only cry out. His memories... His thoughts. They are shattered.

“What have you done to me?” Kar’niss growls out the question, almost heedless of the killing edge resting on his throat. How could even a moment’s fear live inside him now? He does not need his sword to gut Astarion, to cast Solinore down from the tower. She has raised her fists to defend herself, but in seeing her, he cannot believe that someone who would save his life, who would turn away the blood thief, would lie to him. Something has disconnected inside him, and the anguish is more than he can give utterance to; he wants to retreat into the embrace of his Queen. Speak to me now, show me the truth. Show me Your light again. But there comes no light. There comes no voice. None, but Solinore’s.

“I’m sorry. It was the only way to help you see what’s really happening here. Your lantern... It’s just a pixie, in there. You’ve been lied to, but not by us. I know you want something to believe in, Kar’niss, but you won’t find that in this place,” she says.

“So you can try to relax,” Astarion chimes in, “or I can kill you out of mercy.” The challenge makes him bristle, but he relents, his posture slackening. It’s only his pride that keeps him from collapsing outright. He hangs his head, feeling the powerful reflex to call out to his Queen. Is there truly nothing but an illithid scheme?

“My lantern...” he breathes. “My light...” He makes his way slowly to the only bright corner of his nest, taking the Moonlantern in hand. He has to see it, himself. It’s as plain to him, now, as the scent of fresh blood. A trick. An illusion. The thing inside curses his name when he drops it in a voice he has never heard before. He lowers his body, legs curling in as if he’d been hurt. He almost wishes it was something so simply mended as a wound. Kar’niss hangs his head, clutching the lank strands of his hair, shuddering with the sobs he struggles to keep behind his teeth. He is ruined, and ruined anew. If this is some new lie dressed up as salvation, he knows he will draw blood this time. He will take the revenge that is owed to him, or fight to the death in the effort of claiming it. Kar’niss winces when he feels the warmth of Solinore drawing near. Her hand rests softly between his shoulder blades. It’s that small touch which undoes him, and he crumples into her.

“Save me.” He’d pled for that before, so many times, it is the only thing he has left to want. Solinore gathers him up, and her voice is so close, so familiar. It feels as if it’s only the two of them. He can forget the curled lip and indifferent gaze of the vampire spawn, repulsed in his moment of fragility.

“You can save yourself.” She says it with the kind of certainty that only someone who’s done it can have. Kar’niss draws himself up, and Solinore takes his hands. “You just have to breathe.” He follows her lead, the strange breathing patterns, and for the first time in a long, long time, his mind begins to clear. The pits in his memory remain, long stretches of wreckage left from Lolth’s wicked sorceries.

“That’s better.” Solinore’s hands are soft, and Kar’niss leans into the touch. He lets out one more slow breath, his many eyes slipping closed. It is nearly clarity. This feeling has been so far away that it returns to newness. “See? Pulled yourself out of it. And now, if you want, we can look a bit deeper. Try to put our tadpoles together, pick up the pieces.”

“No.” Kar’niss rests his hands over hers.

“What d’you mean, ‘no?”” Astarion interjects.

“Were we unclear?” Kar’niss turns on him, scowling. “No. My mind is mine, barely mine... I want it to myself. This debt is too great.”

“So? Pay it! I’m sure we could conceive of a use for someone who is so terribly adept at scaling walls.” Astarion’s expression is hard to read; Kar’niss can see the layers of artifice at work. He is difficult to pay any attention to when Solinore is so close to him.

“Come with us.”

“And maybe, just maybe consider a bath.”

The requests come at once, and again Kar’niss whips around to look at Astarion. “It’s been a stressful day,” the spawn self-corrects. “Don’t you agree? Nothing like a nice soak to take the edge off.”

“You are just a bit muddy,” Solinore concedes with a chuckle. “A lot muddy. No mirrors up here, huh?”

“No,” Kar’niss bares his teeth at the thought. He has done well not to see what he’s become. He can’t bear to imagine the sight. The unfamiliar face.

“Well... No mirrors required. We do happen to know someone who can heat a tub in just a snap, though. I can think of a few other ways to sweeten the deal.” Kar’niss looks at Solinore questioningly and she beckons him close and whispers. “I still have blood to spare.”

“We will go with you,” he agrees, “but not for that. To honor our debt to you.” Astarion lets out an amused hum.

“More for me, then. Shall we go? Please?”

Kar’niss will have to spin a new web to dwell amongst these True Souls... No, not True Souls. He doesn’t know what they are, what protects them. Not really. He tries to stay present, to bear the scrutiny of the strange spotted woman who wishes to assess his combat capability, the fascination of the wizard. He rather likes the horned man, who seems to understand what it is to be altered by the monstrous hand of evil magic. And the burning woman, true to Solinore’s promise, makes the water in their makeshift tub steam just by sticking her hand in it.

“Old trick I picked up in Avernus,” she’d said, to Kar’niss’ incredible bewilderment. And he’d seen it, too, in glimpses. That horrid inferno, the dusty red skies. “Give you some privacy.” And Kar’niss is alone with the steaming tub, magicked large enough to accommodate him, and his mind is quiet. Only the old, dull whispers, but even these are blunted somehow. He controls his breathing, forcing himself into the moment, the particular difficulty of bathing.

“Brought you a bucket.” Solinore’s voice startles him, and she shows her palms, the bucket dangling from the crook of her elbow. “Easy. Thought you might need someone to get your back.” Kar’niss nods. This is better than being alone, than the silence of his Queen, the simmering rage he feels at her falsehoods. “Might as well get mine, too, if you’re not too shy.” Solinore smiles, tugging her shirt open. Kar’niss does not avert his eyes, though he doesn’t allow them to roam, either. She strips down, and despite himself, he catches a glimpse of a birthmark on her shapely behind, like a masterful blot of ink. Her beauty is composed of so many small details that he has no doubt that he has yet to find them all. Solinore sighs as she steps into the tub, filling up the bucket. “Give you a splash?” Kar’niss lowers his head, and Solinore spills the warm water down his back. It’s a delicious feeling.

“More, please.” Another rill of warm water, this time down his chest. Solinore reaches out, moving slowly, beginning to scrub away the dirt and mud. When she wrings out the rag outside the tub, it’s murkier than Kar’niss supposes. He hasn’t seen himself; he avoids his reflection in the tub, watching Solinore instead. A low, rumbling purr escapes him as she scrubs at his neck, leaning down so she can reach his scalp.

“There’s that sound again... Enjoying yourself?” Solinore smirks up at him, satisfied with her good work. He can see the marks on her neck from the last time he’d fed, and the hunger coils in his gut, entangled with something else that he dares not acknowledge. She’s so bright, so lovely.

“I am...” It comes out of him like a confession, like a forbidden thing. This body should never feel the way it does then. “Let us show you how it feels.” He leans down close, letting his breath chill her damp skin. “Turn around, Solinore.” She turns slowly and Kar’niss gathers some of the bathwater in his hands, pouring it down the cleft of her back. He smooths his hands over her shoulders, his talons lightly tracing over her skin.

“You going to bite me?” Kar’niss goes stiff, mechanically scooping up water to let it roll back down her back, gently scrubbing her clean even as he processes the question.

“It is not the third day,” he tells her. But a question rises in his mind, and he allows it to reach his lips. “Do you enjoy it?” It’s difficult to be sure if the flush that rises is from the warmth of the tub, or if he’s flustered her, but it’s a pleasant sight all the same.

“I--” He has not seen her stammer before. “It’s not like that.” She folds her arms over her chest, but she doesn’t recoil from him. “I just... It’s not like you can do without. And isn’t it... Isn’t it better, not to wait until the third day? I saw how you looked.” Kar’niss can see her pulse jumping in her throat. It’s beautiful. “Besides... Easy clean-up after, I’m already in the bath...” He bends his head and kisses the marks he’s left, following the impulse right to the edge.

“This is enough,” he says, breathing her in. “We are sated.” He waits, feeling the tension like a strand of spidersilk. “But in time,” he continues, “the hunger will return.” It is there, now, but he restrains himself. Carefully, so carefully. “If it would please you, Solinore, there is much I owe, already.” She shivers, but he knows she can’t be cold.

“Call it a need for mutual back-scratching?” She peers over her shoulder at him and then rolls her head, exposing more of her neck. Suddenly his need, that wretched appetite, is not as hideous as it has been, he feels no disgust for what he wants, for the curse that makes him want it. There’s only this moment. He nips lightly, slipping his arms around her, embracing the warmth. He reaches out with his forelegs, feeling her, holding her securely as he had done that first time. He’s heard the sound she makes when letting blood, and now he knows it for what it is. Pleasure. His purr rumbles low in his chest, but he never bites, lapping softly at the thin rivulet of blood that wells from where he’s nipped her, one delectable drop at a time. Solinore reaches up, one hand tangling in his hair, relaxing in his grip.

“What you ask of me, is yours,” Kar’niss says, applying pressure to the nick he’d made to stop what little bleeding he’d caused.

“You sure?” she asks, playfully. “I could ask for another ride on your back. Or...” He knows what that smirk implies.

“What you ask of me,” he says again, “is yours.” Solinore turns that delicious rosy color.

“Then let’s stay here a bit longer,” she says. “Just like this.” In this new clarity, he can see the color of his fascinations, how it shifts towards obsession. That part of him is not so eagerly severed, even with the illithid tadpole quietened, the Absolute shown for some new deceiver, he still craves something more than blood. He needs no light but this. He starves for it each day. Something to believe.

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

Am I enough - Bowser x GN!Reader fic

This fic has been one I've been working on for ages but I finally felt it was time to post it. Because deep down writing this has really helped me

Warnings : Heavy angst, talks of burnout, psychotic meltdown. Happy ending.

It’s true what people say about giving your all but it just not being enough. I knew being among that of Bowser’s castle staff would be a very difficult and demanding job. That was partly the reason I took it in the first place.

As my life in the real world just wasn’t right for me. So, you can imagine when I discovered an oddly large green pipe one day hidden away in an abandoned alleyway I cut through that night to prolong getting back home. I chuckled to myself at the thought of going through it and wondered what it would be like if I found a way into one of the many Super Mario worlds. My curiosity got the better of me. I got what I wished for and more so.

I’ve been living in the Darklands for a few years now. After I was found near the castle of King Bowser. I chose to work for him. Rising steadily up the ranks to a place where I was the caregiver role to the children of the king. This meant taking each day as it came because no two were the same. I was a platform for their pranks until they saw I wasn’t going to be scared away by them. Soon after that, the wee koopalings really grew to like me. They came to me with their problems. When they wanted an outside look at projects they were working on and even let me in on the newest revenge prank in the works. We grew into an odd sort of family dynamic. I would even at a push say that Bowser was more a close friend than my king.

I was known for my kind smile and caring nature to all who needed help. But lately, I felt the wild spark that fanned my bubbly personality had dimmed to a low flutter that threatened to extinguish leaving a husk of smoke behind to fill and suffocate my soul. I tried that much harder to act like all was well but when the big man himself kept trying to gently approach the subject of my recent spout of sadness. I found that the phrase “I’m fine really I am.” And a soft smile that had become the lifeline I clung dearly to was just enough to brush away any concern he had or so I thought.

----

I had barely managed to get through the day with my mask of normality not slipping and shattering to the ground But oh how it fell freely as soon as I shut the door to my quarters. My body sank in on itself with the weight of utter exhaustion finally being allowed to take over once more. Jr had noticed I had zoned out for the 5th time today when we were painting this afternoon. I told him that it was fine. I’m just a little bit tired. He looked at me for a second more before shrugging and going back to his canvas.

I know that I really need to sleep but right now I know if I went to bed I would just not want to wake up for the next day and the day after that and so on. I can’t worry my king or the koopalings. I think that is why I find my way to my ensuite bathroom in the darkness of my room. I didn’t want to put any lights on but when I got to the large tub and start to fill it. I set about lighting candles but only in the furthest corners of the room. It was better than nothing. It was just bright enough to see a silhouette of the bath at the center of the room. My eyes had adjusted to the dimness now that I just stood and stared at the water slowly rising up higher and higher. I normally would get undressed at this point. But what was the point.

I let the water rise higher transfixed by the sound of running water. My limbs moving on autopilot. I just climbed in completely clothed, shoes and all, leaned back, and finally closed my eyes.

I wanted to slip under the water and just drift away. People in my old life didn’t care but in the one I made here, I was wanted. Dare I say loved?

‘Am I enough?’

Thoughts swam frantically around in my mind. Each lasting a split second but long enough to make itself known. I don’t remember crying but it felt good to let it all go. The bath water was spilling over the sides now. I hadn’t turned the taps off. But it was okay. I let it run on. Flow over and pool beneath the tub. I let out the most guttural scream. Expelling all the negativity out of me. I just needed it gone.

“(Y/N) CAN YOU HEAR ME.” His booming voice split the air. I heard his heavy footsteps thud closer to the bathroom. The door broke into splintered pieces on the wet ground. “(Y/n)!” Bowser runs to my side. His large, clawed fingers turned the taps off, partially breaking one in the frantic movements. He scooped my sodden body out of the bath and cradled me close to his warm skin.

“Please talk to me.” He scanned me body to see if I was hurt.

I could see him talking but all I could hear was a high tinny white noise. I couldn’t get my limbs to obey me. I just hung there limply in his arms.

“I got you. I got you now.” He clings to me like I might fade from his grip into nothingness.

“B-bowser.” My tongue feels heavy in my mouth as I try to speak again.

“I’m here. I’m right here.” He sounds so small. Not like the fierce king everyone else gets to see. I’m crying again at the fragility that I’ve forced upon him.

“I-I’m so sorry sir.”

“No don’t say that. You have nothing to be sorry for. When Jr came to me today telling me he was worried about you. I should have stopped everything and gotten here sooner.”

Oh no. I scared Jr why didn’t I hide this better. Why didn’t I do something sooner?

“I’m frightened.” I choke out another sob.

“It’s okay.”

“But it’s not.” I hit his chest. “This is my fault. I let it get this bad. I kept pushing people away.” I keep thumping my fists against his chest and he just lets me. I’m begging him to just do something. Stop me. Just do something.

“I’m so tired. So damn tired.” I hit his chest once more before slumping against him again. He pulls me close. I can hear his heartbeat. It’s frantic, it’s worried. I nuzzle closer maybe if I get close enough it will calm down again. Even though I have clearly gone through a meltdown. I want to help him.

“I know you are. It’s been blatantly obvious that you were burning out before our eyes but you are so strong and caring you kept putting others before yourself. I need you to remember that you are enough. That you matter and you deserve to rest. The children will be fine for a few days if you take that time to rest up. Please let someone look after you for a little while. Please let me help you.”

I reach up and cup the side of his muzzle. His hand rests on top of mine like we are sealing a bargain. I smile weakly, to which he returns. He stands up, still holding onto me. As he walks us both back to my large bed. I’m starting to drift off to sleep but I needed to stay awake just enough to change into dry clothes that Bowser helps me into. Before lifting the covers and tucking me in. He looks down at me all curled up and slowly falling asleep. He moves off the bed but I grasp at his hand.

“Stay.” My voice is so small but he hears me. When the bed dips behind me I feel him pull me closer to his chest again. I finally let exhaustion take me but not before I felt him kiss the top of my head. A real smile tugs at my lips.

Maybe I am enough.

--------

This is my first fic in months and Bowser has been a real comfort character for me recently. So I hope people like this. Even if it was more of a personal idea.

[yellowcry]

I can't heal what's broken

Julieta's job had always been healing everyone. But when she needed it the most, it didn't work.

Cursed Madrigals, yess!

Continiue of the series of @miracles-and-butterflies

TW: Blood and injury

Mirabel hugged her knees, sitting in her bed and examining the wall. The sleep wouldn't come to her eyes. Not with what happened to Luisa. Her shoulder was burning. Mirabel didn't dare to even touch the bloody injury, knowing that she would just faint. 

A door creaked, Mirabel gasped, jumping on her feet, staring at how her mother entered the nursery. "How is Luisa?" She breathed out, looking up at Mama, who carried an arepa. Mirabel's own pain was shoved to the back of her mind. A torn shoulder was nothing compared to what was happening with her sister. She had no right to complain about anything when Luisa was turned into stone right in front of her very eyes. "Have the food helped?"

Mirabel's heart shattered when Julieta slowly shook her head. "Not yet, I work on that." It didn't? Mirabel gasped, dropping back on her bed in despair. She leaning against the wall. Was it related to the cracks? What if Mama couldn't heal anyone anymore? Julita walked across the room, took a seat on Mirabel's bed, and patted her healthy shoulder. "I just want to know, what happened?"

Mirabel wiped her eyes, her voice was shaking in worry. "I... I don't know! We ate lunch, and then Luisa got to work before her break was over. And then I saw this..." 

The nursery was dark, perfect for Mirabel to sleep if it wasn't for the anxiety piercing her soul. She didn't mean for this to happen. Luisa wasn't supposed to be turning into something as inhuman as this. Mirabel didn't mean to impair her sister. She just wanted to help. "I promise, I don't..." What exactly she didn't? She didn't mean to ruin Luisa? She didn't mean for this horror to happen? 

Julieta pats her spine in circles. "I know, Corazon, but I need to know."

It made sense. If Mama knew every detail, maybe there was a better chance of healing. Mirabel wished nothing more than for Luisa to come back and stop whatever was happening to her. It was her fault so why should Lu be the one to pay the price? "I didn't mean to cause this," She finally found the strength to whisper, staring down at her arms. Soft, normal human body. Not whatever Luisa was turning into. Why should she be the one to stay unharmed? It's Mirabel who was supposed to scream in agony, suffer like this.

Mama passed the food to her. " Eat, Corazon," Mirabe blinked several times but pushed the hand with arepa away.

"I'm not hungry."  She didn't deserve to eat this, to be healed. If Luisa suffered because of her, it was only fair that Mirabel wouldn't get any food. 

Julieta looked at her, worried sick. "Are you sure? You need to heal your shoulder."

Mirabel shook her head looking away. She couldn't handle a pitying look on her mother's face.

Julieta bent over the kitchen cabinet. Everything slipped between her fingers. All attempts to fix Luisa didn't end up with success. Her meal just didn't work in the way that it always had. And it was horrifying. Being turned into a living stone was way more horrifying than any cut or a broken bone. And Julieta couldn't heal her. 

It tore her soul apart. As a mother, she wanted nothing more than for her girls to be happy. But it didn't seem possible. This time she couldn't cure this. Julieta's job had always been mending everyone. But when she needed it the most, it didn't work.

There was something wet underneath her clothes. Julieta let out a sharp breath. Her arms shook. What just happened? There was a burning pain in her side. Julieta's arm reached down, feeling the appeared dampness. Blood? No, there was no reason for her to...

Another wound appeared almost in her eyes. A deep, carved scar that pierced through her arm. Leaving dark red blood run down, smudging the surface under it. 

Julieta's obvious instinct was to grab her food. She had no interest in examining something that she saw a countless amount of times.

It didn't help. An unfinished arepa fell out of her fingers as Julita gasped from pain feeling the wound getting deeper as if someone had cut it again.

Her bones were snapping inside her body and coalescing again almost immediately. The bruises, deep painful cuts appeared on her skin. And before Julieta could even do something about it, they disappeared into nowhere the same way her food was supposed to heal them. And then opened in new places.

Julieta whined. She had no idea what was going on, but it was certainly unpleasant.

No, it actually was aching like hell.

The skin on her hand reddened, blistering with burn. And was mending back together. Warm blood ran all over her skin, leaving red stains on her clothes, soaking her dark hair. Her bones were going out of their joints and returning to their places.

"Amor? Are yo-" Her head twitched, staring at Agustin in the doorway. Probably attracted by the noice. He stood there with an open mouth. His sentence was left unfinished. There was no reason to ask if Julieta was okay when he saw bruises that appeared out of nowhere and then disappeared.

Agustin rushed to her, allowing Julieta to curl against her body. Her legs shook too much to stand properly.

Agustin led her to the chair, helping her to sit down. The blood from Julieta already blotted the white shirt. "It's going to be okay..." He tried to reassure her, but Julieta didn't find it in herself to believe him. Her body was scorching from burns. Dermis swelled and shrinked back to its normal condition

"My food doesn't help." She whispered, slipping in the seat.

Agustin froze as the words came together in his brain. The only thing Julieta wasn't able to heal before was Luisa's body change. Now she didn't heal those... Was it the same as what happened to Luisa? 

No, of course, this thing wasn't the same. But it was the fact itself, the chance that there was no recovery.

[celestialanon]

Your Guardian Angel (pt. 2)

(Angel) Mammon x (gn) Mc

Firstly, I’d love to thank all the love and comments from the first post, I’m glad you guys are enjoying Angel Mammon as I’m enjoying writing him. This oneshot is made in more of his perspective, I do hope you enjoy dear readers <3

Uh oh. It seems he's made a mistake.

For a couple of months now, all Mammon has had by his side was you. Everyday, it was you. From the minute you woke, a bright greeting smile on your face. Along with your "thank you" and "good morning" cheek kisses. Maybe even a hug if you were feeling especially thankful for his protection.

To when your head hit your pillow at night, wishing him good sleep even though he never slept. Instead, just staring at your features as they softened when you finally clocked out for the night. The occasional angelic barrier to block out evil presences, remember those evil demons he told you he fought off? Yeah, he wasn't lying. Your soul seemed to attract them plenty.

There was one particular bad night. He remembers it well, because it was a solid turning point in his career, is what he'd argue. A marking of when it all hit him, just how big of a mistake he's made.

It started off a simple night as usual. You had been overcome with sleep, Mammon occasionally stealing glances at your sleeping form. He couldn't help but smile to himself, you looked so comfortable. But that image was soon shattered to pieces.

You started off shifting uncomfortably in your sheets, a look twisted on your face to show your discomfort. He immediately noticed something was off. Something had managed to slip past his fingers that night. All his senses became alert when he noticed you pant in your sleep, you were completely engulfed in fear.

He sprung up from your bed, noticing the dark aura that surrounded your sleeping figure in that moment. He could hear small whimpers escape your lips, and sudden anger bubble in the pit of his stomach. The form of something grotesque and evil took shape above you. It was feeding off you. This filthy, vile creature.

“Hey, hands off my human. Piece of shit.” It was unseen, such fury from an angel. It even surprised himself, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. It was easy to dispel of the creature, and his anger only died down when he noticed your whimpering come to a stop. Your eyes cracking open with a distressed look on your face.

“M-Mammon!” He didn’t expect your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling down against your chest to be faced with your harsh breaths. He didn’t need to be looking at you to notice you were shedding tears below him. You had an iron grip on him as if he would disappear from your sight at any moment. He wasn’t going anywhere.

You tears may as well have been bullets shot at his heart, and he couldn’t stop himself from reciprocating your tight hug. His arms wrapped around your waist, slowly pulling you up from the bed. His hand cradled your head, his wings enclosed around your smaller figure. They weren’t the biggest, nor the thickest pair of wings. But they were arguably the warmest, and the softest.

“I got ya, I got ya…” It was as if his body was draining out your tears. You didn’t need to say anything for him to understand - he just knew. All the fear you were feeling, he was eating away at it. Your hold on him loosened, but you still refused to let go. You had him slowly falling against the bed with you the more your crying had come to a stop.

You pulled back only to look at him with puffy eyes. It was then right there that he knew he’d flip the earth upside down for you if it meant wiping that look off your face. He was rather angry with himself for missing such a powerful demon like that. He felt your hand caress his neck with care, your lip quivering as you struggled to get any words out.

“P-Please stay with me-” Your choked sob that followed had made him feel like he was laying on pins and needles. How dare you think he’d leave you? He was your guardian angel for Christ’s sake! He was not moving from this spot for the rest of the night, not until he sees that large smile on your face when you wish him good morning.

“I’m not goin anywhere, Mc… come here.” He pulled you against his chest, lightly shushing your last few tears as his nails scratched at your scalp. He could feel your racing heart against his chest, slowly falling back to its steady rhythm and calming his own nerves. You cling to him like your life depended on it, afraid to let yourself fall back to sleep in fear of another nightmare.

But his being was so comforting. It pulled you back to sleep almost instantly. And it was a deep sleep. Arguably one of the best rests you’ve had. There were no more nightmares to be had, for he had taken them all away. In his protective hold, quite literally nothing was able to disturb you.

And that next morning, when you woke up in his arms, watching him stare down at you intently, is when you flashed him that million - no - billion dollar smile. A sign that you were ok now. A small “Good morning, Great Mammon” against his chest. And all he could feel was his chest tighten, swell with not only pride, not only relief, but regrettably - love.

Not the love of a protector, no, this was far worse. Not the base line of love all angels had for humans. Mammon knew that type of love. He loved people. He loved humans, and he loved protecting said humans. It was his job, and he was happy to do it.

But not for you, and that was his grave mistake. It was a solid rule back in the celestial realm. He remembered back to when his father appointed him as a guardian angel. He was one of the most trusted, higher ranking angels there. He was given his choice of a certain human to guide.

He could have chose anyone, really, so he left it up to chance. That’s when he ended up with you. Mammon was over the moon, he was excited to be your leader. To have his own human to guide. This was every angel’s dream. They loved humans. But there was one rule that was expected to be followed by every angel.

“Our love for these beings is infinite. We will protect them even if it means at the expense of our own existence. But Mammon, I’m sure you are already aware. You must never fall in love with a human. You must never interfere with a life in such a way.”

Mammon didn’t think much of it, a part of him kind of believed he wouldn’t have been capable of actually falling in love with a human. Were angels really able to do that? He hasn’t heard of such for a very, very long time.

This whole idea he had in his head of the impossibility came crashing down to the floor the second he held you in his arms. He almost wishes he had never realized. Because now he knows. And he knows that he knows. He knows everything, and Mammon has broken that number one rule in all of the celestial realm.

“Mornin, Mc. Sleep good?” He pulled himself out of your hold, finding it suddenly to be one of the hardest things he’s ever done- if it were up to him, he’d stay there all day. And every day after.

“I gotta tell you, best sleep I’ve had in a long time.” You grinned ear to ear, and he found himself doing the same. You both sat up in your bed, you rose a brow at him. You wanted to spoil him just a little.

“You really are the Great Mammon. I couldn’t have gone to sleep without you. Thank you.” Then you gave him another kiss to his cheek, and he found himself following your lips when they pulled back. He looked down at the bed, his face had gone completely red. He could even feel his ears burning.

“Its no big deal…” He felt your hand come up to his hair, giving it a small tousle in thanks. His eyes were downcast, and he could feel dread in his body for what was to come.

But for just this moment, he decided he would enjoy it. Being here, with you, like this. Is probably when he felt his happiest.

[smol-stardust]

new malkolai fic idea

when nikolai tries to push mal away to keep him safe from the nichevoya

Hihi, it took me a while but I finally finished it, hope it’s okie and sry about any grammar or spelling mistakes that might be there

ao3 link here

Secrets. Nikolai Lantsov has kept many secrets since birth and, throughout the years, has developed a knack for concealing his true feelings. However, his latest secret was not one he'd ever imagined having to keep. A secret that mingled and danced along to the deepest shadows, rather literally. Ever since the fateful encounter with the Darkling's shadow puppets and getting attacked by the Nichevoya, he had grappled with its relentless presence inside him. Its whispers slithered through his mind like serpents, a constant reminder of the darkness lurking within. Yet, he kept his struggle hidden from everyone, afraid of his subjects realizing their king had been corrupted and fearful of hurting those closest to him. He had chosen to shoulder his burden alone and hide from all, especially Mal.

Mal had been his confidant through countless adventures, but Nichevoya was different. It was an enigma, an evil force drawn to his innermost fears and doubts. He feared that their bond might shatter if Mal found out about it. So, he put on a facade of normalcy, his charismatic smile masking the torment within. He carried on the tasks as a monarch with a smile, charming the crowds with his wit as he had always done.

Days turned into weeks, and Nikolai's burden grew heavier. He had always been the protector, the one who shielded others from danger, but now he needed protection. The Nichevoya's power surged at night, its shadowy tendrils creeping into his dreams, twisting them into nightmares. He'd wake up drenched in sweat, heart pounding, and Mal would be none the wiser.

One fateful night, however, Nichevoya's grip grew stronger than ever. Nikolai stood in the middle of his dimly lit room, surrounded by the eerie presence of shadow monsters. Their forms twisted and contorted in unsettling ways, filling the room with whispers of worthlessness and pain. They were slowly causing Nikolai to succumb to the doubt swirling within him. The darkness lured him into their deepest pits, a nightmare that didn't end anytime soon. Nikolai fought valiantly and attempted to push the Nichevoya away, but his strength waned. Whispers filled with despair lingered throughout as he slowly lost himself to the shadows.

Just as he felt the last vestiges of his resolve slipping away, Mal burst into the room. Shock and concern on his face, he took in the surreal scene before him. Without hesitation, he rushed to Nikolai's side, a lit candle in his hands as he tried to light up the shadow-filled room.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going through this?" Mal's voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt. "You think I can't handle this? We've faced everything together, Nikolai. I thought we were a team."

Scrambling away, Nikolai gave Mal's shoulders a rough push. "Get away," he croaked weakly, his usually shining blue eyes now having a veil of fear over them.

"Nik, snap out of it!" Mal demanded. "You can't fight this alone, for saint's sake. I'm here for you, dammit. We're a team."

Nikolai's defences crumbled, his facade finally giving way to raw vulnerability. "I... didn't want you to be burdened by my problems," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I could handle it on my own."

Mal's expression softened, and he touched Nikolai's shoulder. "We've always faced challenges as a team, remember? Your burdens are mine, too, Nikolai. You don't have to go through this alone."

Placing a hand tenderly over the wound on Nikolai's shoulder, the source that caused the nichevoya's presence, Mal murmured gentle words of encouragement, promising to be by his side with his unwavering support.

In an attempt to make the Nichevoya leave, Mal spoke to them. He maintained a steady voice despite the tremor in his soul. However, he remained stable, holding onto Nikolai reassuringly as he tried to ease his struggles.

“Nichevoya,” Mal uttered. "Leave Nikolai be; he has done nothing to you.

The entity hesitated, its shadows flickering uncertainly. It recognized the power that radiated from Mal, rooted in fire and darkness. The Blood of the Darkling flowed through his veins, a legacy he had always struggled to embrace. Now, he would use it to help banish Nichevoya's shadowy reigns from within Nikolai.

Nikolai leaned against Mal and murmured. "They're receding; whatever you're doing, it's working."

Mal gently caressed Nikolai's golden locks. "See, you should've told me; let me help Nik. You don't need to do this alone."

"What would I do without you?" Nikolai sighed.

Mal petted his hair tenderly. "A great king, just a bit lost in the shadows."

The wispy dark tendrils flickered around, their presence becoming less volatile. However, they still seemed to be making Nikolai despair as he let out a choked whimper. "They're always there. Am I even human?"

"Well, I'm supposedly a bird, but you seem to think I'm human, so I think you're fine, dear," Mal muttered.

Nikolai let out a weak chortle, "Thanks… I think I needed that."

Nodding, Mal peered at the Nichevoya and scowled at it. "You were born of darkness, but you stopped controlling the king. He is not yours to control," Mal uttered, his voice resonating with a newfound authority

As if compelled by an invisible force, the Nichevoya began to recede, its form dissipating like smoke in the wind. Mal's lineage, the fiery determination within him, proved more potent than the ancient entity's influence.

With Mal's unwavering support, their combined strength seemed to drive the shadows back further. The room filled with a warm, golden light as their powers melded together, pushing the Nichevoya's influence away. Nikolai felt a sense of relief he hadn't known in weeks, a weight lifting from his shoulders.

As the last traces of the shadows dissipated, Nikolai met Mal's gaze, his eyes shimmering with unspoken gratitude. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with genuine emotion. "I should've trusted you from the beginning."

Mal smiled, the tension between them melting away. "We're a team, Nikolai. No secrets, remember?"

From that moment on, Nikolai allowed Mal into his struggles. They spent countless hours researching ways to weaken Nichevoya's hold on him. With each passing day, their bond grew stronger, and through the influence of Mal's firebird powers, the nichevoya slowly began to submit and slip into a more docile state.

The more Mal talked to the Nichevoya and showered Nikolai in attention, the more the shadowy tendrils started to slip away. While the shadows still slipped out in times of trouble and unease, the darkness lurking within no longer controlled Nikolai as much as they used to. Nikolai managed to contain Nichevoya's influence with Mal's unwavering care and support. Though it still lingered within him, it no longer controlled him. The nightmares grew less frequent, and the shadow monsters became distant memories.

Nikolai and Mal emerged from the ordeal stronger than ever, their bond forged in the crucible of adversity. They continued to face challenges together, side by side, their unbreakable bond a beacon of hope and a reminder that no matter how dark it gets, they'll always have each other to lean on, and home will always be waiting.

[dc-and-arfrona]

Midnight Rain

---

Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Type: Angst

Word Count: 500+

Masterlist

Based of this prompt and "Midnight Rain" by Taylor Swift

------

The city was veiled in darkness as raindrops danced with the city lights, creating a mystical atmosphere. Amid the chaos and uncertainty, you found solace in the solitude of the rain-soaked streets. The rhythmic sound of rainfall provided a soundtrack to your thoughts, offering respite from the bustling world. It was on one such night that you stumbled upon a figure, shrouded in shadows yet emanating a magnetic aura.

Jason Todd, known as the Red Hood, prowled the streets like a lone wolf. A protector by night, he wore the weight of his past and the city's burdens on his shoulders. Eyes hardened by experience, he carried an air of mystery that intrigued you. Fate brought you together on that rainy night, where your paths converged beneath the canopy of midnight rain.

As you gazed upon him, a strange connection sparked between you. You found yourself captivated by his enigmatic allure. His piercing gaze met yours, momentarily stripping away the armor he wore both physically and emotionally. In that shared moment, the world fell silent, and it was just the two of you, caught in the embrace of the night.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Jason's voice broke the silence, his tone equal parts curiosity and caution.

Caught off guard, you nodded slowly. "No, I'm just passing through. Something about this city... it drew me in."

A hint of a smile played on Jason's lips. "Gotham has a way of doing that. It's a magnet for lost souls."

As the rain intensified, you found yourself taking a step closer to him, seeking shelter from the downpour. "Are you one of those lost souls?"

His gaze softened, revealing vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior. "Perhaps I am. But maybe we're all a little lost in this world."

The words hung in the air, both poignant and haunting. The rain continued to fall, enveloping you in its embrace as if nature itself conspired to bring you together.

Days turned into nights, and nights turned into a shared journey. With each encounter, your connection with Jason deepened. The rain served as a backdrop to your conversations, the cadence of the drops punctuating your words.

"Do you ever feel like the darkness is consuming you?" you asked one evening, your voice barely audible over the rainfall.

Jason sighed, his voice laced with resignation. "Sometimes, it feels like there's no escaping it. But then... then I see you, and for a moment, the darkness fades away."

Your heart swelled with both love and sadness. "Jason, we can't keep going like this. The danger, the constant battles... It's tearing us apart."

He ran a hand through his damp hair, his expression filled with regret. "I know, but I can't just walk away from this. It's who I am."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step back, the rain mingling with your sorrow. "I fell in love with you, and your devils. Even though you left, your devils stayed behind to taunt me. To become my devils."

Silence descended upon you both, heavy with the weight of a shattered love. The rain poured down, mirroring the tears that slipped from your eyes. It was as if the heavens mourned the loss.

Days turned into nights once again, but this time, you walked alone. The rain became a constant reminder of what was, of a love that had been swept away by the storm. Yet, in the depths of your heart, a flicker of hope remained, whispering that perhaps one day, love would find a way to reconcile the devils that lingered in your souls.

[youwouldntlietopapa]

The Words That Were Never Spoken (OC Re-Edit) - Chapter 6

He was right in front of her. Her hands on his neck. Slipping through his hair. And she could have happily lived in that moment forever. That calm, peaceful quiet she never found with anyone else. Even after the worst day, when all she wanted to do was hide from the world, he was separate from the world she wanted to hide from. He was an oasis. He was the calm and the peace and the quiet. Without him, what was the point of hiding? Getting away wasn’t worth it if it meant getting away from him.

Every night could be a good night like this. Easy conversation and drifting off on the couch. His voice washing over her and holding her close.

Lying in the dark, in the quiet of Copia’s room, broken only by his soft snores, Izzy stares at the wall in front of her. Still half asleep. Wondering if, maybe, it was just a dream. Or maybe she’s lost her mind. But even in the fog of sleep, the words keep echoing in her head. Copia’s voice and the words she’s wanted to hear for longer than she cares to think about. Please… please don’t let it be a dream. It can’t just be a dream. Still not sure that any of her desperate prayers are being heard at all, she still offers them to the dark and to whoever might be listening.

“… I love you. Ti amo, Isobel.”

It echoes over and over until she wants to scream, until she wants to roll over and shake him awake, demand that he say it again. Say it once more. And again. And again. Say it until the words lose all meaning and her heart stops feeling like it will burst. Until it’s indelibly written on her soul.

Izzy takes a deep breath, focusing on the silence that had gotten so loud. Focusing on the sound of his breath just behind her. The way he shifts slightly in his sleep. The way his fingers brush against her back. Madness gripping her mind. Need and want colliding. Her hand slips behind your back, finding his.

Feeling how close he is.

Bringing his arm around herself.

It feels selfish. It feels like theft. Stealing moments that don’t belong to her. But, sweet Lucifer, it feels good. Just to be close. Just a little closer. Even as her eyes itch and burn, as the tears pool and drop heavily on to the pillow that smells like him. Knowing that it could break her, easily. Shatter her into a million pieces. God, was there ever anyone she would break for so willingly? Was there ever anyone she would face, gladly, and let him shatter her? Maybe it’s selfish. Maybe it’s theft. And maybe she should be sorry, but she can’t find the shame. All that’s there is longing and desire and love that aches in her very core.

Copia’s arm around her tightens. For half a second she panics that he’s awake. That she’s been caught red handed and the words, dream or not, will vanish along with everything that might have followed them. Instead, it pulls her closer. His gentle snores go on, uninterrupted, as he pulls her against his chest. Holding her close and melting against her back. Fitting himself tightly with her, burying his face in her hair. Warm breath on her neck, nuzzling into her skin with a quiet sound she doesn’t dare call a moan. His warmth radiating through her and, for the first time in too long, the ache in her heart and the storm in her mind quiet to near silence.

It feels like coming home.

“I love you too. With all my heart.”

…………….

Copia is awake before his alarm. Without the jarring start, he can wake up slowly. Enjoying the warmth and comfort of the bed, the hair that tickles his nose, and the soft skin pressed against his lips. Too long since the last time he woke up like this. Too long wishing it was her. Too long dreaming… Wait. There’s only one person in his bed. He knows this. The sleep still clinging to his thoughts falls away at once.

Not a dream.

Not a wish.

Isobel.

She’s still asleep, pressed tightly against him. His arm around her, holding her close. Exactly what he’d wanted when he climbed into bed and exactly what he shouldn’t be doing now. Even if his physical reactions disagree. The last thing he wants is for Izzy to wake up with him wrapped around her, poking her in the back and, with deepening horror he realises, his hand cupping her breast.

Somewhere in the battle between delicate caution and panic, the panic wins out. In his effort to move back and keep from looking like exactly the sort of creep more than a few rumours have him painted as, Copia effectively throws himself off the bed in a tangle of flailing limbs and blanket. Lying on the floor groaning, he can only hope that the sound that escaped him wasn’t as undignified as he’s sure it was.

Judging from the barely contained giggle and the way her mouth fights against a smile when she peeks over the side of the bed, his hopes are clearly in vain.

“Are you all right?”

He gives her a weak thumbs up. “Okie dokie.”

Her laugh is contagious and he cracks almost as soon as she does. Just relieved that this embarrassment is one he can live with. Even more glad that the blanket hides the problem that is becoming near constant.

“I didn’t push you off the bed did I?” She laughs, stepping over him and offering a hand up to sitting.

“No, no.” Copia waves away the very suggestion. “Must have been a dream.”

Izzy kneels down in front of him and he holds perfectly still when she reaches out. Brushing his hair back off his face. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am, tesoro. I swear.”

“Well, far be it for me to insinuate you’d lie about something like that.” The alarm beeps from the night stand and she’s up, turning it off, before he can say much more. “Do you mind if I shower first? I told Sister I would stop by her office first thing and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Of course. I don’t mind. You want for me to make coffee?”

Izzy pauses in the doorway. “Would you be all right meeting me in the dining hall?”

The question catches him a little off guard. She’s been quite content to avoid the dining hall the last few days and he had been quite content having her to himself. But if it’s what she wants, he has no real argument against it. “Of course. More back to normal.”

The look on her face is hard to read but for a moment there might have been a hint of disappointment. There so briefly he can’t be sure. Replaced with a calm smile almost as quickly.

“Your coffee is better than theirs.”

Copia watches her go and is still sat on the floor when he hears the shower start.

[froggiepads119]

So I couldn't exactly sleep last night so I decided to edit this story I wrote based off o dream I had a few years ago.

Here's your taste of the stuff I REALLY like to write

Enjoy~

} slight depictions of blood and wounds.

It was quiet that mist morning. The bees had stopped buzzing and the wind; soft on silent wings, had stopped whispering through the sky scraping, withering trees, making the golden brown grass stop their dance. Not even ebony crows screech as the man approaches the run down vehicle, its once grime tint hidden away beneath the layers of “time goes by'' and rust. The man doesn't seem like a threat, he just seemed lost - in the past’s darkest hours and broken from all scenarios. The wind, which seemed to pick up from nowhere, hissed a warning as he creeped- slow, maybe rethinking on what he was planning to do. His lean form hovered over the wreckage, scowling at the undamaged shield of glass that seemed to stare back, mocking him. 

The crashing of glass, or a shattering soul, filled the air, gray fog beginning to rome across the barren field. The man’s face was pale, tired windows glassy, staring into nothingness. Thick, crimson liquid spilled over, following the curves of his body, pooling into the leather of the musty seats of the car.. Deep, meaty gashes decorated his skin, shards glittering inside the exit wounds. 

Gray green eyes shot open tearfully. Gasping, The man from the vision bolted up from the lone picnic table, heaving the smooth, purple stone that had been laying on his heart into the green grass, only seeing it glimmer in the sun before it was lost. His heart still pounding, he turned to his girlfriend. Her raven hair shone, waving gracefully in the wind, dark circles hollowing out her eyes. 

 “I told you you wouldn't like it.”

 She whispers in a guilty tone. She knew what would happen, but she let it slip anyway. The couple sighed, almost in unison before he stood on walling legs, taking her hand in his as a quiet sign that none of this was her fault. She was gifted, and for a reason. Time went by and soon, the two had forgotten about the incident in the grassland and life went on as usual. The golden orb was warm, its loving arms stretched, embracing the lovers as they laughed. It was normal at first; just a pair of kids running around, chasing each other through golden waves, until he saw it: It was lost in time, a perfect piece of history, hidden away from long lost failures. The interior shredded, leaving nothing but unanswered questions to what happened to the owners. They crept closer to the phantom vehicle, the girl more hesitant than he. It only resembled the car from the vision but that didn't stop a strange wave of paranoia sweeping over the man, familiarity washing over the once happy atmosphere. An echoing fracture slit the man out of his thoughts, slowly turning his head to look behind him. His heart practically stopped beating as his eyes locked on the scene. The young woman, who was standing there just moments before, had been completely engulfed in the shards of the windshield. Her once glossy lips and space blue eyes had paled, her body starting to go rigid. He ran to her, shooting her name as he scooped her closed to his chest. A garbled sound rose from her throat, blood dripping down her chin. She was alive but she didn't have long. He quickly , yet carefully, put her into the passenger seat of the rundown vehicle, cleaning the gashes the best he could before trying to keep her flesh on her bones with the rip of his sleeve. The keys still sat in the ignition. 

Turn. 

Nothing. 

Turn after turn, all he was only met with resistance. He didn't even know why he was trying - she was losing her fight and there was no way in hell the vehicle would ever turn over. The red stained the makeshift gaws, turned his stomach to slime as tears began pricking his eyes with a grunt of frustration, he turned, hard.A loud grumble shook the car before it revived, muffling his relieved sigh and her pained sobs. He floored the pedal, the worn tires screeching like a dying animal. He was glued to the road, intent on getting to the hospital, his mind racing with black sludge, swallowing any hint of positivity. 

“babe…” 

It was barely a whisper. He looked away from the wheel, concentrating only on her. 

“If.. If this is how I go.. How will you?” 

His heart dropped, one hand drifting to squeeze hers as he attempted to answer positively, only for her. He always attempted to find hope, only because of her. 

Too bad he never saw the truck.                               

[flashfiction5]

Cafuné They say losing a loved one is the most shattering experience one can endure, but have you experienced losing the love of your life slowly die in your arms?

My girlfriend, the love of my life, was diagnosed with leukemia, and I watched her slipping away from me, slowly. Each passing day brought new set of anguish as I watched her fade before my eyes, powerless to halt her contagious illness. In her final moments,we returned to the shore, where our love had blossomed in the midst of the crashing waves and salt-kissed breeze. The shore was our escape from the cruel world, it was our safe place, and it was her final place.

With the sun spreading out its golden rays upon the sand and the waves, we sat together on the shore, a small picnic spread before us. I held her fragile form in my arms, the breeze carrying whispers of her frail voice as she spoke to me “ The sunset is so beautiful as usual, love," she murmurs, her eyes alight with a bittersweet glow. "It is a fitting scenery for my final moment." “ the world wouldn’t stop revolving even if I should go tonight. So promise me yours shouldn’t come to halt, I love you so much, forever and always “ . she hold my face gently. She is my world, my solace, everything. It hurts seeing her like this, that is why in this moment, I asked her to marry me, to bind our souls even if we are not together physically for eternity. But she, ever selfless, feared burdening me with her inevitable goodbye, I didn’t mind, she was never a burden. We kissed for the last time.

“ Can I sleep now, love? I’m tired ” she said weakly, I slowly nodded and smiled softly while forcing myself not to cry. I knew by that time that she will sleep peacefully, forever. With a heavy heart, I watched as she surrendered to the embrace of sleep, her final breaths a gentle whisper against my skin. And as the sun disappeared, so too did she slip away from me, leaving behind a darkness that consumed my world. I watched her die in my arms while I was running my fingers through her hair which she loves.

In the quiet moments before dawn, I sit alone by her grave, the chill of the morning air biting at my skin, mirroring the cold emptiness that has settled within me. Celebrating our anniversary we once celebrated together, I realize that I am forever bound to her memory. In the quiet of the cemetery, I told her how I now fulfilled the dreams we once dreamed together , even as the reason behind fulfilling those dreams fades into the void. For in her absence, I am but a shadow of the man I once was, forever haunted by the ghost of a love lost too soon.

-Angel Escobido