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asukamood · 10 months

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Math (fmaa2)

Math

***

I have no idea if any of you were like, wondering what the Creepypasta Squad was up to in fmaa2 au, but I am not going to wait for answer before uploading this and give you the answer. If you are wondering why I am writing fluff now, it is for an apology to anyone who might have suffered due to me torturing Hacker so much these past days.

I will not stop.

But have a break still.

***

Warnings: M a t h, strong language

Ships: None

Synopsis: Well, if he could not help Bobby himself then he still had that one ace card up his sleeve.

Or rather, a bi card.

He was the opposite of asexual after all.

“HACKER!”

***

The sound of frantic scribbling echoed inside of Bobby’s otherwise silent room. It was quite late, the clock on the wall ticking in intervals of seconds. According to it, it was already 8 P.M.

While his pen was indeed moving frantically, it did not write answers but incoherent gribbles instead, hoping that this bundle of disconnected and bent lines would somehow give him the answer to the math problem nagging him on his notebook.

And perhaps he hoped to fool the teacher into thinking he did his homework by mistaking these unintelligent scribblings for answers.

He could be staring holes into it as much as he wanted, the questions did not magically change to a simpler one because why would they? He hated math because he never understood what the questions were even about.

At the third line he completed tainting a faded grey with his pencil, he let out a loud growl as he threw his pen at the wall. “FUCKING HOMEWORK!” God, he wanted to go play Minecraft so bad, but Randy said he was not allowed to before he had finished doing everything.

He had been stuck on the same problem for hours now!

And there were more on that page!

An angry frustrated groan left him as he wiped his hand across the desk, knocking his pencil and notebook off. The items crashed onto the floor unceremoniously as Bobby buried his head in his hands, cursing out everyone who thought making school the way it is was a clever idea.

Randy soon came knocking at the door after hearing all the commotion. “Son? Is everything okay in there?” came his muddled voice from the door.

“No!” He replied, frustrated. “I hate school! And I hate homework! They suck Randy!”

The latter took that as a positive response to enter if the way his door swung open to reveal a worried Randy was any indication of that. Or he simply did not care. But it was Randy, he always cared so he doubted that was the case. That was why he liked him after all.

The latter came into the room and bent over to pick up the scattered books on the floor to put them back onto the desk. He opened them back where Bobby left them, and he groaned at seeing the same problems appear in his sight. The interrogation marks tempting him to run the tip of his pen through them so he would not have to see them anymore.

“What is the problem, son? Are the problems taking too long for you to figure out?” he asked as he patted the angry teenager on the head, ruffling his hair in the process. Normally, he would have thrown a tantrum about that, saying things about how it would mess up his hair but right now? He was too distracted by his pure flames of hatred aimed toward the educational system to care about his haircut all that much.

“No, they’re simply not coming to me at all.” He crossed his arms around his chest and stubbornly refused to even spare a glance at the pages. “I can’t understand what I’m supposed to do, and it sucks.” He pouted. “I wanna play Minecraft...”

Randy stared at the book and scratched his neck, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read whatever was written in it. He had never gone to school and much less studied whatever kind of satanic writing those numbers were. While he did learn to read eventually, math was something he was hopeless with.

He was much more of a practical man than a literary one.

Well, if he couldn’t help Bobby himself then he still had that one ace card up his sleeve.

Or rather, a bi card.

He was the opposite of asexual after all.

“HACKER!” He hoped he shouted loud enough for the latter to hear, not wanting to bother the neighbors from screaming too loud, I think those suffered enough from Hacker’s and Bobby’s endless bickering on the balcony of their house.

Thankfully, Hope didn’t let him down this time.

“Yeah?” Soon came a muffled answer from a room from afar.

“Could you come here, please?” There was the creak of a door and footsteps before Hacker’s face appeared at the end of the doorway.

“Yes, what is it?” Randy motioned for him to step closer, and he did, his eyes falling onto the notebook in front of Bobby. He raised his eyebrow.

“Homework again?” Randy gave him a sheepish smile as he nodded while Bobby growled under his breath, his arms tightening around himself.

“Math homework.” Bobby was quick to add before Hacker had the time to make fun of him for needing help with school. The latter blinked before groaning too as he mumbled something about it being the most difficult subject to explain.

He sighed before walking up to Bobby’s side and looking at the questions he had to answer. He reached out behind him, feeling for the additional chair Bobby keeps in his room in case those emergency lessons had to take place before bringing said spinning chair to him when he got a hold of it. He sat down like the drama queen he was, frowning at the notebook.

Seeing that Hacker had probably the situation under control, Randy backed away from the soon to be battlefield and reached the door. “Well, you two kids have fun all right? Try not to stay up too late, you still have school tomorrow, Bobby!”

“You didn’t have to remind me!” Bobby half sobbed and half hissed as he attempted to punch his bottle of water.

“And remember to brush your teeth!” This time, he glared at him as he reminded me once again that he was eighteen and that he knew he had to brush his teeth. Randy swallowed back the remark about how Bobby forgot to brush his teeth multiple times after he reached majority he felt forming at the back of his throat and instead turned to target Hacker instead.

“As for you, son, you remember not to stay up too late, okay? While you do get eight hours of sleep, 4 A.M. to 12 A.M. is not an extremely healthy sleep schedule.” Hacker waved Randy's worry away with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, I got it Randy, don’t worry about me.” He responded, knowing very well that he was most probably not going to stay up anyway because of watching too many tik Tok videos. Randy must have known but he did not comment as he closed the door shut behind him.

His hand traced down the thin page and he cursed. “Why did it have to be that math? It is literally the hardest of the hardest to explain!”

“Well, ask that to my teacher not me.” Bobby huffed, pouting. “I do not even get why we learn all that shit at school. You and Randy are both working but I never see any of you bring out those stuff for any kind of situation! It is so pointless!”

“I’m with you on that one, dude.” He nodded, as he slouched back onto his chair. “I mean, I guess it could be useful for some careers, but I doubt that you want to pursue anything in the scientific field.”

As if to prove his point, Bobby stuck his tongue out at the suggestion. “Ew, I would rather kiss one of your exes.”

“Well damn, if you wanted to that badly you should have just said so.” he snickered at Bobby’s outraged reaction.

“Ew ew ew! Hell no!” He shoved him weakly, earning a little laugh from the other.

“Well now that this is out of the question, I’m kind of not in the mood to do math.” He melted onto the chair as he spun back in forth, looking extremely bored. “What if we just skip that part?”

Bobby glanced back and forth from Hacker to the notebook spread on the table.

“I mean, I would love to, but the teacher said that whoever doesn’t do their homework will get a mail sent to their parents and two hours in detention.” Hacker scoffed at that, spinning a pencil in between two fingers.

“Did you forget that Randy cannot use any electronic device for the life of him? While he is your legal guardian, I am the one who receives your school mail. Besides, I can always talk your way out of that detention thing.” Bobby seemed relieved but he still had a frown on his face.

“They also said that we were going to get a pretty important test about it next week.” Hacker shrugged at that, a smirk on his face.

“Well, if you’re worried about your grades, your school’s system isn’t that hard to breach...” Bobby was about to tell him something, even a thank you with starry eyes before a disappointed dad burst through the door, startling both boys out of their skin.

“No hacking into the school’s system to change Bobby’s grades!” Randy put his fists on his hips as he stared sternly at them.

“But--”

“No buts apart from the one attached to you! Do it in the right way or you will be banned from pancakes for a week!” Bobby and Hacker both groaned as they turned back to the notebook reluctantly, Randy huffing as he closed the door again.

“Well, I guess it’s time that I pull out my secret teacher skills.” Hacker said as he began cracking his fingers and neck like he was about to step inside a ring.

Bobby scoffed, picking up his neglected pencil.

“As if you had that.”

***

“Holy shit, you might actually be a good teacher.” Bobby sounded bewildered at the completed homework that he finished before the clock stroked 9 P.M. “You ever thought about becoming one?”

Hacker gagged at the suggestion. “Hell no! I am not going to spend my days teaching loud brats!”

“Well at least you would have earned more money, I don’t think your job at the 7/11 is paying all that well...”

“YOU DON’T EVEN WORK! DON’T TALK TO ME ABOUT MONEY!”

“YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, S T U P I D .”

“BOYS!”

#dreamswap #fluff #crack #crack post #ds hacker #ds randy #ds bobby #dreamswap hacker #dreamswap randy #dreamswap bobby #creepypasta squad #fmaa2

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roryheart · 2 months

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Jake and Mitski bcs <333

“My God, I'm so lonely”

Something I think people tend to overlook in jake’s character is that before he was friends with the dromies he was completely alone. He had no friends and he was horrifically lonely, to the point he fell in love with the first person to care about him (daisy).

“So I open the window To hear sounds of people To hear sounds of people”

He lets nearly everyone in, “opening the window” but no one will truly understand him. The first “to hear sounds of people” is for the dromies, who never understood how much his passion meant to him. The second is for the club, who never understood his need to be popular.

“Venus, planet of love Was destroyed by global warming”

Venus= music , Global Warming=Bullying and peer pressure

“Did its people want too much, too? Did its people want too much?”

Both the club and the dromies wanted him to conform in different ways. He abandoned a part of his personality for both of them and was stretched thin trying to make them happy. They wanted too much.

“And I don't want your pity I just want somebody near me”

Daisy telling him not to give up back in middle school, pitying him for being made fun of. He didn’t listen and accepted drew’s friendship because he wanted someone near him.

“Guess I'm a coward I just want to feel alright”

Being a coward and not fighting back against the bullying and instead becoming a bully. All because he wanted to be happy and feel alright.

“And I know no one will save me I just need someone to kiss Give me one good honest kiss And I'll be alright”

Thinking that dating daisy will fix all his problems and make him brave enough to tell people he likes music again (spoiler alert: that’s not how life works!)

“Nobody, nobody, nobody Nobody, nobody Ooh, nobody, nobody, nobody”

He quite literally has nobody. Not really anyway. Ik the finale showed the club as “the good ending” but they didn’t understand him at all. The drake-up happened so he doesn’t have the dromies (and they didn’t get him either) so my boys by himself :(

“I've been big and small And big and small And big and small again

And still nobody wants me Still nobody wants me”

He rotates between being a bully and a victim and still nobody wants him. Both Drew and Hailey only wanted the caricature he showed everyone.

“And I know no one will save me I'm just asking for a kiss Give me one good movie kiss And I'll be alright”

He’s learnt that daisy won’t solve all his problems but he still wants that love. He feels like daisy is the only person who will understand him, he sees her more as a tool than true love (which is why i don’t think jaisy is the best ship)

“Nobody, nobody, nobody Nobody, nobody Ooh, nobody, nobody Nobody, nobody, nobody”

This is for his middle school bullies, who caused him to isolate himself.

“Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody Nobody, nobody, nobody (nobody) (Nobody, nobody)”

This one’s for the dromies who, despite being a good friends to him, went on to bully people who were just like him. (HES SO ME.)

“Nobody, nobody Nobody, nobody”

The music club only truly liking him when he offers them something. (THIS PARALLELS DREW BECAUSE *incoherant rambling*

i wrote this at 4 am so it probably makes no sense and has a ton of spelling and grammar mistakes. Ik this isn’t the songs actual meaning but the lyrics themselves really do fit him. Also idk what’s wrong with the colored text just ignore it

@mitski-slope

#tmf #the music freaks #freakblr #jake tmf #tmf jake #jake sterling

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wildfandom · 7 months

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I mean. 💌. 👀.

again: like you said, tumblr mutual is a funny thing to call you my actual boyfriend from real life

but anyways, i know in my heart that this is gonna get long and prolly incoherent cause it’s just gonna be what comes to mind but, you know me

first of right off the bat i was so right to call you sunbright, god your smile it’s like when the light breaks through the clouds, that warm sunlight that touches your soul

it always felt easy hanging out with you, even when we first met in the flesh, like we’ve always been old friends, two worn pieces that still fit together

the fact that you’re so strong, not just physically (which, again, is so fucking hot that you can lift me up like that), but like, your resilience is so goddamn admirable

i love learning about your life, all of your stories and how you tell them, i am in the memory with you, watching

you’re so goddamn handsome??? like. you’ve seen my messages, i wanna devour you whole if you would let me

your protective nature, your need to defend others and do what is just and right, helping me with quitting ht, you reaching your arm out to hold me back when the car suddenly stops

the fact that you get me, get what i try to say, understands the shapes and colors i try to paint out in words and gestures

i always talk about you, even before

i’ve gone a little insane about your hugs if you can’t already tell

bitches love your sense of joy and whimsy (it’s me i’m bitches)

your willingness to commit to the bit, the call and refrains we have, the verbal decay is going to be insane and i love that

the worlds you create in your mind, the art you put out into the world, again i am insane about cowboys

the fact that you understood my gender colors, read my vibes completely

the lullabies you recorded, sleep’s been strange but hearing your voice calms my heart and mind

i like it when you get bitchy

the way you move is mesmerizing

i’m trying to think of new things i haven’t already said before but, it always come back to me looking at you, from the corner of my eyes while i drove us around, reaching for your hand in the dark and holding it close, even when there was no real reason for that, walking around town with you, taking you to my work three days in a row, riding the ferris wheel with you, dancing, the tunnel at the beach, the wharf, the escape room, hearing your thoughts about my audition, learning that you talk about me to other people too

i love you, i wanna take care of you if you would let me, to keep holding on to you, the sun setting into the sea, forever and ever and ever

#wildfandom senpai noticed you #courfeyracs-swordcane #ask meme #yeah.

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strangeswift · 1 year

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🍓 throwing this at you like it’s a tomato and ur in stocks

Ella nancysglock.

The level at which we understand each other constantly astounds me. Like idk I don't believe in psychic connections but. We have one idk I don't make the rules. I have never once disagreed with something you've said, even in the slightest. And it's not a thing of like oh Ella thinks it so it must be true, no I mean genuinely.

Here's the thing. I used to think the concept of meeting close friends on the internet was a little weird. How can you become that close with someone you've never even met in person. But holy fuck I get it now because you mean.. so much to me. Like I just fuck okay this is getting way sappier than I planned FUCK. You like... make me feel understood? And safe? And valued? Ew oh my god I'm sorry I'm sorry okay moving on.

Your writing amazes me. You already know this because it's how we became friends, but I'll reiterate. You amaze me. Everything you write. (Even the things I don't have the mental energy to provide full incoherent annotations of <3) Your ST scripts genuinely GENUINELY blow my mind. Your original work blows my mind more. Because something I admire about you is your ability to create from nothing. Completely original scenes that are just so perfect?? I don't even know how to explain this really.. I felt that the first time I read one of your scripts. I feel that even more when you give me the privilege of seeing your original work. Creating characters and backstories that are so compelling to me and that I am actually attached to when I've only seen snippets??? The world building??? But obviously st brainrot so I get very VERY hype for your st scripts. Because it literally feels like I'm getting to peek at S5. I can HEAR the characters saying the lines. I can see the scenes in my head.

I have full confidence that you'll succeed in the industry. I'm not bullshitting you, I'm serious. And you know what a fucking pessimist I am.

Having someone who understands me and is rational and skeptical and thinks critically had improved my fandom experience tenfold. You make this site bearable.

Gotta mention your edits because holy shit. First of all you got so good at editing so fast so good job but FUCK THE BRUTAL EDIT?? FUCKKKKKK YOU'RE A GENIUS. The scene selection was flawless. You know that but I'm telling you again. So excited for what's to come.

Your music is everything to me. I listen to it. I listen to your demos throughout my day when I'm going about my business. I catch myself humming them at work. Genuinely. Your songwriting is amazing musically and especially lyrically. And I adore your singing voice so shut up about it.

I honestly have more I could say but I feel like if I go on too much longer we'll both throw up from sappiness. Oh last thing. Your music recs>>>>>

#shut up okay shut up shut up #asks #compliment spree

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 3 years

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See, whenever anyone teases the interpretation of Ex-Condor as even remotely shippy, I secretly get a bit peeved coz the story is supposed to be about culture clash. If the story was supposed to be shippy, I would have done it an entirely different way! There are so many romance tropes that could work with BoCo and Edward!

To wit...

These 2xD2 ideas are not all meant to be compatible with each other, but they are

Free to a Good Home

BoCo's class was based at Barrow MPD after their refurbishment in '62, right? And the N.W.R. main line definitely had "foreign trains" running about in this era and even sometimes needing to be banked up Gordon's Hill, yeah? Give me pre-Sodor BoCo getting teased affectionately by his friends (and not-so-affectionately by his enemies) coz he always volunteers to take trains "over the bridge." ("Someone's getting steamy for a steamie—" "Here's an idea, mind your own business.")

So if BoCo were the first of the two to internally go all "hello hello hello, what have we here?" well, then he could start doing all those Sodor runs...

Or Edward is the first to internally go all "oh. ohmyGod. HELLO THERE." And then wants to die coz he's had hopeless crushes on bigger engines before and they have never ended with anything but his heart getting shredded and when will he learn and why is he like this and—*BoCo turns out to be friendly and kind*—aaaaahhhhhh oh no this might be worse. WORSE! *thinks Edward, while floating about approximately three inches above the rails for the rest of the day*

It's mutual love at first sight but it takes them three years to do more than exchange glances in passing and pretend they're not.

OR they don't figure it out for AGES and after a couple decades Bill and freakin Ben wind up setting them up.

Alternately: Bill and Ben are oblivious and think everyone is having them on over the years when they imply that Edward and BoCo are making eyes—dating—Literally Married. How silly do the North Western engines think they are??!?!?!?!!! Hrmph.

All right, please, let's forget Bill and Ben a while. I'm begging. Put them aside completely.

Another take: in the early pre-relationship stage, due to some snafus on the line Edward and his train have to hitch a ride on BoCo's just to get a path home. Edward is really resistant to this idea, which his crew writes off as his usual pride—but it's soooo much more about "ahhh nooooooooo don't make me couple up behind my secret crush." Doesn't help that BoCo is strong enough to handle the whole thing quite on his own, and Edward just gets pulled along. At the end of the route the crew thinks Edward is just sulking but actually his "eyes closed, don't talk to me" routine has more to do with drowning in emotions and sensations and needing some space to slowly flutter on back down to earth.

Or, of course, go with Edward bailing out BoCo, who has needed this sort of help so often before, but, ahhhhh, yes, hrmmm, this is—better. Edward doesn't take the opportunity to make BoCo feel like a piece of crap. In fact he's wholeheartedly gentle...

BoCo manages to be so upbeat despite his, well, entire life, in part because he listens to all this new wave of rock 'n' roll every chance he gets. Yeah, that's right. I dragged the Beatles into this. Diesel engines do a lot of humming. BoCo's sounds suspiciously like "Can't Buy Me Love." (Really bad rhythm for a train, honestly.)

Bonus to the above: BoCo: "He'll probably think this is stupid... " Edward: *thinks BoCo is so beautiful and cute when he relaxes into the music that it is all instantly A-OK in his book and now he goes around whistling bars of BoCo's songs as well*

Seriously, one way or another, if you are doing something shippy and you don't make use of what Kips so perfectly called "Edward's iconic blushy face," you are doing it wrong.

In Main Line Engines everyone on the N.W.R. was pretty down on the idea of a diesel, right? Make it so that the crowd BoCo runs with back home all collectively disapprove of him hanging out so much on Sodor, too. Make this some Romeo and Juliet bullshit.

Except, it's only the Montague-and-Capulet tropes. Edward and BoCo are, I readily concede, pretty much the anti-Romeo and Juliet. That's the joke of it. Every time one of their rare allies suggests they do something melodramatic, they just blink. "Oh, that is a pickle. You could... um... you could fake your own death!" "I... I see a few problems with that plan." "You gotta come to the rumble!" "Ah, but, the thing is, I don't think I do..." "Lie to everyone, including the Fat Controller!" "No, in fact I think I might just go and tell the Fat Controller everything. Probably be simpler."

A bunch of diesels from Barrow and the surrounding terrain, who are connected to those who visit the island often, plan some sort of sabotage. It could even center on taking "Old Iron" out of commission. BoCo tries to stop it and winds up basically installing himself as a double-crossing secret agent to make sure things don't get out of hand. (Along The Way, He Finds Love.)

Bonus to the above: *some evil-ish diesel talking about Edward* "Yeah, was built last century, he was, Riddles alone knows why they haven't broken him up yet." "Obviously because he's too beautiful to be broken up..." "What?" "What?" BoCo: Best. Spy. Ever.

Edward requests BoCo's trial. Has to be pretty insistent before FC2 agrees, too. (The "Buzz, Buzz" express takeover was really helpful in FC2 deciding that maybe this wasn't the stupidest thing he ever let himself get talked into.)

Bonus to the above: Edward requests BoCo is the engine trialled on his line the summer of '65 and then feels ashamed at the idea that he pulled strings to get his crush there and cue massive internal conflict that hardly gives him a moment's peace the whole time.

Bonus bonus to the above: BoCo is just enjoying himself enormously.

Still pre-relationship, Edward becomes convinced that BoCo and Gordon are not merely becoming friends but a romantic item and tries to nobly bury his broken (and acidly jealous) heart. After as many stupid wrenching misses as you like, BoCo figures out the misconception and is all like "OMG. KISS ME YOU FOOL—"

Or they don't spit anything out until after Edward returns from his post-Exploit repairs and at that point they just instantly and mutually know.

Give me BoCo five years after he arrives on Sodor suffering crushing grief and survivor's guilt because he wasn't good enough for his trial to convince B.R. to rebuild the rest of his class the new engine and—and—ohhh, screw it, make your own angst! 😢

Give me Edward who has spent so long as the sympathetic listener—with the convenient side effect of keeping a sharp watch on what he himself says and not showing too much to other engines, because even in the "family" of Sodor, whenever you let yourself be vulnerable you got to be prepared for it to be used against you down the line. And then embarrassed that he finds himself "rambling on" to BoCo. But a) usually he's not so much rambling as just sort of... not censoring himself as much and b) even when he does go on BoCo indeed sometimes loses the thread but he doesn't mind because he loves just watching when Edward gets excited or indignant about something.

Right. Bill and Ben. Fine, get back in here, ya little bastards. If you want to lean into the "family" dynamic, then please, read "The Diseasel" with the context of "Edward has had a massive crush on BoCo and has been making sure they take this Indefinable Thing they have thus far slowwwwwly and he just knew BoCo would bounce when he met 'the twins,' he just knew it, but—ah! wait! can it be???? they've done their worse, and BoCo is fine with it! He knows how to just laugh at them! He doesn't appear to be scared off! ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD."

Sorry, you mean the above wasn't this picture?

#ttte shipping #ttte #ttte edward #ttte boco #*does a lot of digging among various tags*#...#edwardxboco #?#hey quick question how come ship tagging/naming practices gotta change every five years #asking for Science #... i understand completely if this is too incoherent to be understood but i am way over time budget ty for your consideration #thomas the tank engine #zzzZZzzzZZZzz #ttte plot inspiration

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detectives-of-willborne-if · 2 years

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This is dedicated to @kal-writesif

I hope this meets your expectations. This might not be physical torture, but still...enjoy!

No one ever picks G.

G never minded much. How could they feel left out when they had never been included?

They don't seek attention nor did they ever desire so, they never mind being alone. Being desolated from everyone gives them a lot more peace and room for them to think. It's not they hate or are afraid to form friendships, they are used to being excluded in groups that they don't mind playing in the sandbox on their own while the rest played.

It's not that people did not try to reach out to them, they did, but they can't help but be appalled at G who was incoherently honestly blunt on their observations.

They have never truly been connected to anyone. Their parents did understand them, never tried but they were able to understand their depths fully without reservations, but it was Albert Maxwell; their father who understood them the most. He praises their keen eye for things, picking up details that no one had bothered to notice, just like the profound detective from Conan Doyle's books. G loves their father, though clumsy he was kind and good----but he was a dying man.

G was not too young nor too old enough to comprehend that the only person who can understand the way how they perceive the world won't be coming back after a few more nights of sleep. They knew that he was going to die, his mom did too, and even little Trish who couldn't even talk in complete sentences, though she did not understand; she could feel that the man she calls "dada" would not be coming home with them any time soon or ever.

She was only two years and they were ten.

G had known for a long time that his days are numbered, the clock had been ticking a long time ago for rest that he would soon never wake up. The facts were already laid out for them, but why does their heart hurt?

"Can you open the window the room is a bit stuffy?" Albert asks in a low and tired tone. His breathing is loud enough to hear from the nasal cannula. He was sickly pale but his smile makes him look a bit healthier.

"Sure." They did what they were asked to; opening the window's latch letting the warm breeze inside before heading to the man's side. Their father smiles warmly as they slowly reach out to his young child's hands. G could feel his long and big hands that were too thin that you could feel his bones, this sense of emotions that swirl in their heart prompted them to ask "Are you gonna die?"

If you knew the man well enough, you know that his laugh was genuine from his child's morbid answer, "I am unless some miracle I can live long enough to make it to your high school graduation."

It's a useless hope, but they knew it. But they could help but think of a scenario if he was never sick, he would be able to walk around without getting tired, he would still have his bright blonde locks that had shed from the chemo, he would be home with them and they would go back where they were before.

But reality just shatters dreams.

"Don't think too hard." Albert notices their apprehension, and he smooths the child's blonde hair soothingly, "I do wish I can stay a bit longer but hey---if it's my time then it is my time. I got no regrets." He chuckles fondly as he weakly cups their hands, "I'm happy with the life that I had lived; I married your mom, then I had you and Patricia. You guys were the best highlight of my short life."

"I don't want you to leave us."

"I know."

"Are you scared of dying?" Albert smiles weakly.

"I am," he breathes in, as his eye crinkles in an unknown shine. "But I think it's okay to be scared, I am scared when I am facing my own mortality. I want to be there for the important moments for you and your sister. I will be there standing next to your mom, watching you and your sister grow up, I want to see what kind of person you both would become. I wish I wouldn't have to miss it. I know it's not fair, but we gotta make what's most of it."

G looks at him, staring at the same familiar sapphire blue eyes akin to their own, "Does dying hurt?"

Albert strains a laugh. "Don't know yet. I hope it doesn't."

G nods, "I hope it's painless. You've been in pain for a long time, and I hope when it's time, you won't feel hurt anymore."

Their father smiles that you could cause your heart to break with a single look, "Do you want to lay down next to me?"

G did so they place themselves next to him, snuggling him, carefully not to get in the way of the IV and tubes. Albert takes their child's hands once they settled next to him, playing with it trying to memorize the shape, warmth--just the feeling of it before he leaves.

"I remember when you were just a baby, you couldn't sleep without someone holding your small hands, it's hard to imagine that this hand was as small as an eraser." He interlocks their fingers into their own, "I was so happy at being dad. I--I didn't have a dad to take an example of, but I imagine what kind of dad I wanted to have so I became it."

"Thank you for giving me the chance to be your father even though short, I'm happy." Eyelids were getting heavy and before long he relaxes into the softness of his pillow before letting out a small whisper, "You are a great kid, I hope you know that."

"You never failed to remind me."

"...There's a jar of peppermints in my office, you can have it."

"Thanks."

"Share...it with your friends..."

"Okay, Dad."

G had been called mean, heartless, emotionally-averse and many things, But they do feel, they do care, and yet they do not understand nor do they wish to.

They were not an odd loner that no one wants to play with. and they were not an emotionally-stunted robot. They are just a kid who is now losing their dad.

"Night, dad. See you tomorrow."

#G prompt #hope like this #angst #G Maxwell

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

Text

@greyduckgreygoose Tumblr ate your ask when I tried posting it two minutes ago. You requested prompts 5 or 6, which I choose to read as 5 and 6. Stay tuned for prompt 6 in the future. If you like this, perhaps I’ll make it more Valdo. Whump or healing—you pull the trigger, goosey. Or perhaps I’ll use prompt 6 for some Filavandrel fun. Let me know.

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

tw: alcohol, depression

WC: 1600 even. Whoo! Even hundredth place! Two goose eggs!

A Good Man

Geralt meets Valdo Marx while taking a contract on a ferry, protecting its passengers from an unknown threat on the water. Valdo himself is an unknown threat, until the two of them get to talking, and Geralt learns a quiet truth.

Geraskier. One-sided Valdo/Jaskier

Valdo Marx, troubadour of Cidaris, was the last person Geralt expected to meet on the ferry from Brugge. Per Jaskier’s rambling, he’d assumed the bard stayed put, living it up in Oxenfurt or Cidaris—Geralt was never quite sure if Cidaris were his home or simply a place he’d chosen for his adopted title. He’d wondered if Jaskier were a ‘Bard of Thereabouts,’ but he was never curious enough to ask where-abouts. They both travelled so much, Jaskier could be from anywhere. Something told him that Jaskier would choose Lyria if asked; the name was lyrical.

But Geralt supposed bards were of a travelling nature after all. Besides, the ferry down the Yda was the fasted way to travel inland from Brugge to Craag An, and just beyond was the Adalatte. A straight shot through Kerack would have Marx home in Cidaris in no time at all, and people with coin to spare liked to hurry to and fro in laid-back comfort. It was a paradox Geralt often found amusing.

He paid no fare for his ride, having been hired on for protection. It would seem that, of late, people were disappearing from the ferry before reaching their final destination, reaching a much more final destination than anticipated. Drowners, probably. Sirens were less likely, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility. The channels were connected to the ocean; something could have come washing downriver. It wasn’t altogether unheard of to find displaced sirens after the summer rainstorms. If asked which he’d be more likely to meet, Geralt would have chosen sirens before Valdo Marx.

Geralt recognized him as a bard from the off: it was impossible to mistaken anything so brightly decorated. True, the man did not carry his lute about his person as Jaskier would, but he wore the uniform of satin, the season’s colors all in coordination and too impractical for the weather. It was a mark of their trade, their plumage like birds of paradise and that theatrical air.

Well, the atmosphere around Marx was less the foppish theatrics Geralt had come to expect. He did not saunter across the deck wooing a crowd, nor reciting poetry. He did not do much of anything to draw attention to himself. In fact, he was quite unlike anything that made up Geralt’s image of bards, drawing back against the bulwark, completely silent. Like a fool, Geralt presumed they would go all the way to Craag An without confrontation, but it would be a snowy day in the desert before bards acted predictably.

It was late afternoon the second day on board when he approached, the sun falling low, bringing on the evening. Geralt was keeping watch at the stern: if anything was about it would be disturbed, knocked back as the ship made headway, clawing its way onto the deck from the rear. Geralt kept to the lower main deck, closest to the water. If anything came crawling up from below, he would be in position to dispatch it. The passengers aboard had likely been warned beforehand, or else they’d heard the rumors, as they stayed on the upper deck and bow. With the lower deck abandoned, he easily read Valdo’s approach from a distance.

“White Wolf?” he asked, leaning casually a few feet away from Geralt. The question was monotone, almost disinterested, but he would not have come if there had been no reason.

There was nothing else to do and, truth be told, Geralt was bored. So he turned to Valdo and nodded. “Geralt,” he replied. He’d never quite grow used to the fanciful title, but it brought him good business. It made him recognizable, and therefore comfortable, in so much as anyone could be comfortable around a witcher. Reputations had influence.

“Valdo Marx. I’m sure you heard of me.”

Geralt hummed. There was something in his manner of speech. It was not an obnoxious flaunt of his fame: there was something resigned in it. Bitter, perhaps. It was the same tone Lambert used to say, “There was a wraith in Gulet. I’m sure you’ve already heard.” It had taken a witcher down from the school of the viper. The tone implied notoriety.

For a while, they did not speak. The only sound came from the water below lapping against the side of the ship. Geralt waited, glancing at the troubadour once more before he turned his attention back to the water. He supposed that had been it, a simple acknowledgement. People were often curious, coming to him only to confirm his identity as Jaskier’s witcher. It was a title he’d grown comfortable with more quickly than the White Wolf. It was truer, and he smiled to himself when he thought of such instances in private.

“You’re a right lucky fuck,” Valdo muttered.

Geralt looked up again from the water. He turned to examine Valdo silently, wondering what, exactly, Valdo thought he had going for him to mark him as lucky.

Valdo stared back at him, looking tired and severe. “Maybe I would have had better luck if I didn’t talk so much,” he continued. “If I didn’t sing … ”

“Bards are supposed to sing,” Geralt replied. He now wished Valdo would go back to the upper deck. Nothing aggravated him quite like people who refused to get to the point. He scented an undercurrent of hostility in the air. That, and an abundance of vodka.

Valdo produced a flask from his jerkin and gave it a swig. “Never was trying to be a bard,” he muttered. He took another sip, let it sit, then concealed the flask once more. It occurred to Geralt that the man’s leaning was not entirely owed to false causality.

Geralt knew not what to say. So he simply said, “Hm.” He heard the knuckles crack in Valdo’s tightening fist.

“Melitele’s tits. Years of poetry and songs, and you come along with your … ‘hm,’” Valdo mocked, “and that’s it. Not even a melodic hm. Just … hm.” He raked his fingers through his hair, hissing through his teeth in frustration. He was muttering something under his breath, but it was incoherent, even to a witcher’s ears. When Valdo looked up again, his eyes were red. Neither that, nor the sour note in the air were owed to the alcohol, Geralt surmised.

“He won’t love you,” Valdo said. “He can’t. He doesn’t hold on to things that way. You’re just—” he flapped a hand, searching for the word “—a fascination. You’re something shiny and new. He’ll forget about you the moment he leaves your bed.”

“Who?”

“Who the fuck do you think, witcher. Don’t mock me,” Valdo snapped, voice cracking. If he didn’t look so pathetic, if his words did not carry such weight, Geralt might have chuckled to hear Jaskier’s infamous rival croak unprofessionally. It was not flattering of bards. But there was nothing funny in what he said, nor in how he said it.

“Wait a minute,” Geralt said. He had said less than ten words to the man, none of them mocking in the slightest, and he meant to say as much.

But Valdo held up a hand to silence him. The broken man slipped down to the deck, curling against his knees, head bowed. When he spoke, he mumbled against his knees, fingers tangling in his hair. “I went to Oxenfurt for him. I chased after him for so long, watching him fall in and out of stranger’s beds for less than a wink. But all he wanted me for … he only met me on the stage. Irked if I played below standard, livid if I won. Try what you will, there’s no pleasing Jaskier.”

Geralt thought he understood him then. “Are you jealous?” he asked.

Valdo lifted his head enough to meet his eye. His cheeks were wet, shining in the fading light. “Are you Jaskier’s witcher?”

“Yes,” Geralt replied.

“Then you have your answer.”

Geralt paused a moment. He approached Valdo slowly and lowered himself to his side. They sat together in silence, hidden in the shadow of the bulwark as the sun set behind. Valdo produced the flask again, offering Geralt a sip without a word exchanged. Geralt took the flask.

“Have you kissed him?” Valdo whispered.

“No.”

“Don’t. If he never kisses you, he might not leave.”

Geralt watched as Valdo finished the last of the vodka. “Did you?” he asked.

Valdo stared across the empty deck. “No,” he replied. “But I don’t count. He sings songs about you. I only exist to him three days a year at the bardic competition.”

“He talks about you,” Geralt offered. It was a poor comfort when one knew how Jaskier talked.

Valdo sighed and tucked away the empty flask. He stood on unsteady legs, turning back toward the stairs to the upper deck. “I know. I have a rough idea what sort of man you must think I am from his gossip.”

“I don’t hold with gossip.”

“No,” Valdo chuckled. “Your kind wouldn’t.” It wasn’t an insult, but empathy. There was an understanding between them on that mark. “I wanted to find out for myself what kind of a man you were to entice him so. I hate to think I see it.”

“What do you think you see?”

“A man. One whose best friend’s first wish would be to strike death upon his rival, and knowing him, would allow that rival to approach him without preconceptions. Who would share a flask with a sobbing drunkard and listen earnestly. A good man, in short. So ... hatefully good.”

Send me drabble prompts!

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Title: A King’s Wrath.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Yandere!Overblot!Leona/Reader

Synopsis: Last time Leona lost control, you had help. Back-up isn’t a privilege he seemed intent to give you, this time around.

TW: Graphic Violence, Blood and Delusional Mindsets.

Overblot was a terrible thing.

You should know, you’d been around it enough to see the signs, to recognize just how depraved it could make the people you thought you knew. It was messy, it was desperate, it was an affliction you couldn’t fight off until it’d already ravaged your peers and hurt your friends. It was a curse, in every sense of the word. You were almost glad you hadn’t been born with magic, somedays, when you got a chance to see what it could do if it got out of hand.

Leona, in particular, was not a man to be underestimated. Even before you really knew him, when you were still confused and lost in a world you barely understood, you hadn’t been able to recognize the monster he turned into at the slightest hints of imbalance. You could barely stand to watch, the sight bringing tears to your eyes as surely as the sandstorm he’d summoned, but you’d figured that would be a one-time offense. It was over, and his childhood strife was behind him. He’d grown from it, and you’d helped him. You were proud of him, even if you’d never dare to say that outloud. He didn’t need the ego boost, and you didn’t need to deal with another cocky, self-satisfied lecture on the vastness of his superiority.

Well... you thought he’d gotten better, at least.

You were starting to think you’d gotten your hopes up too soon.

You could feel it. The electricity in the air, the searing warmth mingling with a distinct, sudden chill, neither feeling managing to completely block out the other. You were sweating, but you were shivering. You were scrambling backward, searching for ground that wouldn’t fall out from under your feet, but you were frozen in place, rooted to the soil that wanted so badly to push you away. It’d been instantaneous. One moment, he was guiding you into the forest surrounding the academy, your hand in his and a whine playing on your tongue about his bone-crushing grip or his unmatchable pace, and the next, you were like this, his expression fallen and his confident confession crushed and discarded by your awkward, rushed rejection. It’d been too blunt. It’d been too harsh.

It’d been honest, and you could never be honest with Leona.

You weren’t dumb enough to try to talk him down or take him on. You were alone, painfully, stupidly alone, out of the reach of the Headmaster or Malleus or someone who could help you, not that you had the right to be picky, at the moment. You wished you’d insisted on taking Grimm with you, or Ace or Deuce or anyone you could’ve convinced Leona to bring along, but you didn’t. Your only chance was to flee, to push yourself to your feet and run for it, even if you doubted you’d be able to make it. Still, it wasn’t much of a choice. Cramping lungs and sore legs were far preferable to the creature you’d left behind you.

Leona wasn’t one to be neglected, though. Already, you could hear him catching up to you, recovering from his blind rage and falling into a targetted, pointed wrath, putting your suffering above the destruction of trees and flowers that’d only witnessed his humiliation. Dust hung in the open air, fragrant and overwhelming, your eyes stinging and your throat going dry, although you couldn’t be sure whether that was Leona’s magic or your own suffocating fear. Each crushed leaf made it worse, every noise sending a jolt through your chest, giving you a new reason to run faster, to scream louder. Somewhere in the distance, Leona laughed, the noise throaty, threatening. Easily drowning out your voice.

But, he could laugh all he wanted. You could see a soft glow, the lights of a dormitory, although you couldn’t guess which it was. It didn’t matter, though. Soon, you’d have help. You’d be safe--

Without warning, the ground underneath you fell away, turning to something malleable and pliant. You slipped before you put a name to it, falling into the shallow pit of sand that’d formed between you and a kneeling Leona, a single palm carelessly pressed to the ground. You tried to get up, but even like this, Leona was faster than you, moving like a predator seeking out its prey, his fist closing around your wrist and wrenching you to your feet before you could stand on your own. The pain was immediate, burning. As if your body was trying to tear itself apart, and you just had to stand back, watching as defined trails carved themselves into your skin. There was blood, but it disappeared as it washed over his hand, mixing with the blank ink that already stained his fingertips. You wondered if it would leave a mark, when he turned back.

If he turned back.

A low, wordless groan forced its way from your grit teeth, and Leona pushed his shoulders back, taking on the air of a victorious warlord as if you’d already admitted defeat. You supposed you had. “Does it hurt?” He asked, a cruel lilt heavy in his voice. You didn’t think before nodding, hoping for the smallest hint of mercy, but Leona only cocked his head to the side, the gesture unnaturally angular, drawing attention to the lopsided smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth. Rigid and symbolic, not unlike his touch. “Good. I’m not wasting my time, then.”

Claws found their way into your skin, and it dawned on you that he might want a response. You didn’t have much of a choice than to give one to him. “Leona,” You forced out, his name half a gasp and half a mumble. “This isn’t who you are, you’re… You’re in danger. If you don’t snap yourself out of this, your body’s not going to be able to--”

“I think this is exactly who I am,” He growled, cutting you off with little more than a snarl and a narrow-eyed glance. “I tried to be nice. I tried to be your friend and play your little, oblivious game and be patient. Do you know how long I spent sitting back and waiting for you to come around?” It was a question that didn’t warrant an answer, a single talon driving itself into your flesh, nearly cutting to the bone. You screamed, and he rose his voice to speak over you. “I spent so long acting like your friend, you don’t have the right to--” He interrupted himself with a hitched breath, his mouth closing and his jaw locking into place. And yet, he wasn't any more rational when he decided to continue. “It was pointless. You denied me, and you made it pointless.”

“I-I’m sorry.” An apology felt right, albeit manufactured. He’d told how he felt, and you hadn’t shared his sentiment. He’d said he loved you in that lackadaisical, noncommittal way of his, and you hadn’t known to take him seriously. There was nothing to be sorry for, not from your perspective. Leona was just a brat who’d never been turned down, not by someone he considered so far below himself. Still, you were the one who needed a reason, an excuse that would calm him. A selection blended together on your lips, forming something more incoherent than soothing. “I didn’t know you were… I don’t know what I was saying, I want to be with you. We can be together, but first, you have to stop, alright?” You did your best to sound sympathetic, letting your words draw out into something tender. Something compassionate, despite the pain slowly spreading to your shoulder. “You have to let me help you.”

“You’re the only one that needs help, herbivore.” You were used to the pet name, the playful jab at his place on the food chain, but it didn’t sound like a buy for your annoyance, not when he was standing behind you, his brute force only outmatched by the sweltering heat that surrounded him like an aura. It was a warning, now, a reminder that he had fangs and strength and magic and you didn’t. “If anything, I should’ve done this months ago. It’s so fucking easy.” You can practically hear his sneer. It wasn’t like he made an effort to hide it. “It’s not like you would’ve been much of a challenge, even without the extra blot.”

At that, Leona let you go, more out of disgust than concern. Automatically, you reeled back, bringing your injured arm to your chest as you moved to run, but your freedom was short-lived. As soon as you managed to turn around, his heel made contact with the back of your knee, sending you crashing to the ground with a new ache forming in your calf. In the blink of an eye, his fingers were entangled in your hair, his magic thankfully, thankfully neutralized but his grip so tight, you almost wished he’d just put you out of your misery.

Unfortunately, Leona had never been kind.

You couldn't speak, but he didn’t seem to mind. Rather, he was content to jeer and grin and laugh as you writhed, your hands clamped around overgrown grass in an effort not to lash out and anger him further. But, not fighting back was a double-sided blade, one that gave Leona the authority to assume he’d won. “It’s my fault,” He admitted, abruptly, his faux-empathy layered on so thickly, you didn’t have to wonder if he was trying to be honest. “I should’ve known someone like you would be too dense to understand. You’d never give me what I want, not unless I force it out of you.”

You stiffened. You felt him pull back, letting go of you entirely, but you didn’t dare try to get away. “I don’t… What do you want?”

“I can’t have a throne, can I? I can’t have your heart, and I doubt you’re going to hand it over now.” He sighed, the sound a wistful thing. One that left you more unnerved than his threats ever could. His hand came down again, petting over your hair so gently, you were tempted to melt into it for a brief, fleeting second. “But…”

He was gentle, then he wasn’t, his foot pressing into the small of your back, shoving you to forward without a chance to prepare yourself. Involuntarily, you glanced over your shoulder before yiu could hit the ground , taking in the shadows that danced around him for the first time. The brightness in his eyes, golden and unfamiliar, the shape of something primal and animalistic looming behind him. The cruel, possessive smile on his lips, a smile that only broadened when you failed to look away.

“You can still bow.”

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frosteee · 3 years

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The Existential Terror of Asura [Soul Eater]

It's been a long time since I've thought about Soul Eater, but I've been thinking about it a lot recently and I wanted to talk about it. I've been thinking maybe a bit too much, which is relevant.

Asura resonated (sorry) with me years ago when I first got into the series, and he does even more now, for what he says about fear and its effects, and how the wrong response to individuals suffering from that fear can cause a spiral into even worse depths.

[LONG ASS POST UNDER CUT]

Lord Death created the first Kishin, Asura. Literally and figuratively. There's no two ways about it. Excalibur tells him as much in his final moments, telling him how wrong it was to create a being out of his own fears. Lord Death acknowledges that Asura, his own son, was created as an experiment, a means to the end of becoming a perfect god of Absolute Order. The quote from Voltaire's short story 'Memnon' comes to mind here: 'One day, Memnon conceived the insane idea of becoming perfectly wise.'

This foolish, if well-intentioned, effort was successful in Lord Death's case, but the consequences for those around him were horrendous. Early in the manga, Lord Death is unable to admit it out loud. Even the way he recounts Asura's fall into madness and betrayal, and how he dealt with that consequence, speaks to Lord Death's detachment, his lack of compassion and understanding at that time. He removes his relation to Asura entirely, removing the truth of the matter and placing himself on the moral high ground in the process.

When he is recounting Asura's downfall, Lord Death remarks that he did not know what lay in Asura's heart, pondering if it was fear. He does not seem to realise or take responsibility for the fact that Asura is literally his anxiety incarnate. He understood on some level that no being, god or otherwise, could stand such a condition, and was careful not to make the same mistake with Kid, but Lord Death (at that point) was unable to admit or think of Asura as anything other than a traitor and a threat.

Lord Death taught Kid that the real purpose of a Reaper was balance - conveniently forgetting to mention how he came by that particular titbit of wisdom - his eldest son, the most unbalanced creature to ever breathe.

I remember being in the car on my way to school with my dad. At the time I was suffering from an intense anxious phase where I was deathly afraid of bad weather - even something as harmless as dark clouds. I would cry when I opened my curtains and looked out. I didn't want to leave the house. I remember my dad saying to me: "You keep this up, and you'll be a nervous wreck."

That scared me, but I didn't know what to do to stop being scared. My fixation with the weather passed, somehow, later, but when I was in the grip of it I was powerless to do anything because I didn't understand, and neither did my parents. I was already a nervous wreck, and the prospect of a future where this continued, or became worse, only terrified me more.

Luckily, while my dad was never the best at handling my fears (more from his own 'pick yourself up' mindset and fear for me than disinterest or lack of love), my mum was always there to get me the help I needed and talk to me about my feelings. I still struggle today, but I have a good support system and am better equipped to handle and understand my feelings.

Asura had nothing and nobody like that. His father, Lord Death, created a fully mature being with full concept of his own makeup - the fears that Lord Death had discarded, the fears that made Lord Death flawed, imperfect, and wrong. Lord Death made a son of one of the the most corrosive and self-sabotaging emotions and was surprised when that didn't turn out well!

Lord Death saw a man, his son, so utterly terrified by the world, people, and himself, that he couldn't bear to go out without the protection of layers upon layers of clothing, a being so crippled by fear that he kept everything and everybody at arm's length, even his own partner Vajra, and spent his days in a state of constant introspection, barely paying attention to the outside world and mumbling incoherently.

Lord Death looked at that man, that firstborn child of his, and allowed that to continue. There's no indication he tried to ease Asura's anxieties, or help him in any way. Asura was a powerful member of his elite order, and that seemed to be all that mattered until it was too late. What kind of parent sees their child in such a state and does nothing?

Who looks at this and does nothing?

Lord Death created a nervous wreck of a man, and was both surprised and furious when that nervous wreck finally broke under the strain. Lord Death and others talk about Asura 'forgetting his discipline/teachings' and disobeying, like he was supposed to magically be able to handle being mortally afraid!

Being so helpless against the condition of his being, Asura sought the only thing available to him - the only thing he was valued for: power, and disobeyed his father.

Lord Death's response? To rip all of Asura's skin off his body and seal him inside it for the next eight hundred years, and doing everything possible to keep Asura there.

We all know that sealing something away and putting a rug over it never works, especially in fiction, so it was only a matter of time before Asura was freed, but in an emotional and moral point of view it was so, so wrong.

Asura had been gripped in fear for all his life, unable to healthily cope with it, and spent so much time in his own head his thoughts were coming out of his mouth as frantic whispers. The worst thing Lord Death could have possibly thought of as a punishment was to isolate Asura entirely.

I don't remember if this appeared in the manga, but in the anime (Lord Death and Asura's second/final confrontation), Asura tells Death of the things he thought about while in that sack of skin, because the only freedom he had left was to think. The worst possible thing for anyone, especially someone suffering from anxiety, is to do nothing but think. All this exercise does, and did with Asura, is exacerbate and breed more anxieties, and further embed them into the mind.

Left with nobody but himself to find a way out of the existential terror of his own thoughts, Asura came to realise that he had been an experiment, a tool, not a son. He refers to our heroes at puppets of Lord Death, as he once was, and regards Lord Death as nothing but a tyrant. Up until the revelation that he and Kid are brothers, Kid himself had never questioned Lord Death. Asura had eight hundred years to do that.

Eight hundred years in a stew of your own existential dread.

In the anime series, Asura concluded that it was the ability to imagine the future that was the source of fear. He who had spent so long terrified of the what if's and maybes, tortured by uncertainty, he sought to create a world where there was nothing but the immediate, static present, where nothing like that could exist.

Lord Death's response? "Sorry, I'll kill you for real this time" or "I've had enough of your rants!"

In either anime or manga, he never addresses or responds to Asura's thoughts or feelings. Even when Lord Death realised the error of making his eldest son the way he was, he never communicated this to Asura personally. To Asura he was flippant, dismissive and angry, acting as if Asura was solely responsible for the evil he did when Lord Death knew it wasn't. He'd sooner punish and hurt Asura than actually help him, a consequence of becoming 'Order' with no room for those who challenge or question it. It's like taking a young offender into a prison full of nasty criminals and violence and being shocked when they come out worse than when they went in.

His suffering son is a blemish, a shame, a threat. At one point, Lord Death even threatens to put Asura through the same existential hell again. Can people really blame Asura for hating him and turning on everything Lord Death cares about (more than he ever did his own son)?

In making his anxiety a person, Lord Death was obviously going to detach himself from Asura as an individual. Asura is everything he wanted to dispose of, only powerful and capable of taking out his enemies en masse. He was clearly only kept around and tolerated for that purpose, but never looked upon or valued as a thinking being capable of feeling and reacting to the condition of his birth.

Asura is Lord Death's biggest, most horrendous and reprehensible act. It's not a mistake, either. Lord Death intentionally created Asura to be the way he was, with no mind for the consequences until it blew up in his face. And when it did, not only was Lord death not humbled or sorry, but he pinned all the blame on Asura in a fit of rage and punished him - and punished him in the worst way both for Asura himself and for the world in general.

Lord Death treated Asura and his mental breakdown like a rabid dog to be locked away and forgotten about. That is not something a good parent does. A good parent acknowledges their hand in their children's problems, they talk to them, they help them out.

Lord Death may have been a good father to Kid, but he was the absolute worst Asura could have had. And Kid, aside from that flicker of doubt, doesn't acknowledge it, continuing to praise Lord Death and be the true Death God Lord Death had wanted.

Asura lashes out and sees everything in the world as his enemy, a thing to fear, a thing to hate, and he could not conceive of anything except terror. He was completely unable to understand a state of peace, harmony, bravery, in the face of all the fear life throws at you. He was a nervous wreck until he died, and that scares me. I don't want to become like that, but it's difficult to imagine some days when you're gripped by this unnatural fear of something, even if you know what it is, that you can get better and be truly content.

Asura was never happy and always afraid. He was fucked over by his parent like Chrona was, but nobody (including the narrative) gave a shit. Yes, his actions were wrong, he had to be stopped, he couldn't be allowed lash out against the world and others like he was, but I still see Asura was a tragic figure who was fucked over by the person he needed most.

I'm sorry this is so long, I have a lot of feelings right now.

#Soul Eater #tw anxiety #anxiety discussion #mental health #Kishin Asura #Asura Soul Eater #Lord Death #Lord Death Soul Eater #Death the Kid #Death the Kid Soul Eater #spoilers #anime spoilers #Soul Eater spoilers #manga spoilers

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just2bubbly · 3 years

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Longings and Comm

Masterlist

Summary

"I swear if I could come, I would have been near you in a heartbeat."

Absence always seems to make the heart grow fonder and Cinder and Kai are no different in this vast expanse. After a busy day at work with Lunars, Cinder relies on Kai to make her smile but what happens when unexpected inquiries are made and feelings are slipped off.

Ship: Kaider

Words: 1502 words

Cinder's Perspective

She was so done with everyone. Every single one of them and this headache was killing her and unlike her usual headaches caused as a result of grief. This one was a real fucking headache caused because of annoyance and extreme anger.

She did something very un-queenly, like shouting in her chambers with a colourful string of swear words going in her mind.

1.2.3.4

Like every meeting that had ever happened, this was nothing different. Well, except for the appearances of lunar aristocrats. As if the stars surrounding her knew exactly what she wanted, Kai commed with such perfect timings that she wondered if Iko was behind this. If she was, may God bless her best friend, her only true companion on this entire dreary planet.

"Thank Goodness you commed. I am so angry-"

He chuckled at her loud outburst, mildly interrupting her. She would have glared if it was anyone else but Kai. However, the voice of his chuckle was enough to calm her down.

"Welcome to Royalty Queen Selene!"

"Stop saying it as if I have won a lottery ticket to visit Earth"

"So is that what you are missing? Earth?" he asked with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You would know," she said, awaiting him to smile one of those shy smiles reserved for her.

"Kai! I miss Earth and people who can't perform bio-electric manipulation. Heck, you don't know how lucky you are! "

"Why?" he asked, his eyebrows quirking as his curiosity peeked in.

"Well, there are many reasons..." she was going to narrate each one of it to him unless he said otherwise.

Noting her long pause for permission, he granted, "Start Cinder, I'm all ears for you today."

'Ah! This guy was too good for his own self' she seemed to exclaim inside her head.

"Let's start then. I would say sit down as there is a long list of reasons. Firstly, these obnoxious Lunars- they are obsessed with fashion and by fashion, I mean an eerie sense of fashion. My eyes are hurt by just looking at them and that's not my individual statement, even Iko agrees. Plus, my cybernetics and the device goes haywire on me trying to pinpoint their true looks every time I glance at them; making it extremely difficult to focus. Secondly, their love to change appearances, like someone might be having blonde hair today and tomorrow they might turn out bald or something like that. I have a hard time remembering people, providing that I have cybernetics it is saying something. I can look through their glamour and see their true appearances but even then I have a hard time recalling them like hell, Luna needs some form of a database so that I or the computer in my brain can memorize all of them. At least earthen leaders have the decency to come dressed up in proper attire. Lunars, one man showed up in pyjamas to the cabinet meetings." She huffed and stopped to catch her breath.

Seeing that she was somewhat done with her ramble for the day, she groaned for what felt like the umpteenth time in the day.

"You have it bad, Cin, I absolutely agree but c'mon you have me and other people to complain to. Besides, how are you?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Sorry to waste your time with my problems. I should not rant like this but my aristocrat citizens are chaotic and useless who loathe agreeing with me." She grumbled.

"You are not alone actually. Vargas and Camilla gave me a headache today but thanks to you I at least have one thing less to worry about"

"And that is?" she inquired.

"Letumosis and Levana, Cinder. How do you seem to forget that you are the revolutionary?" he teasingly asked. It was not like she was fetching compliments just because she was the one who killed Levana. The fact that she was the revolutionary often slipped from her mind if not for Thorne's remarks and a few graceful acknowledgements here and there.

"My court tells me otherwise!"

"Don't listen to those lunar fools, Cinder. You are THE revolutionary. Hero of the entire universe-"

"Stop praising me like some goddess" she cut off him shortly before he decided to go into a full-blown speech about how wonderful she was. Believe her; he had done that at the last annual Peace ball before everyone.

"Besides Emperor how could you call lunars fools before the Queen of Luna? You have lost your fine touch of diplomacy Kaito."

"Well just the way you called them and I quote 'obnoxious Lunars' before a few moments. And don't you worry I'm not losing my fine diplomatic touch anytime sooner. "He joked along.

"Good, it would be a shame if you did." She exclaimed adding to their playful banter.

Soon they fell into a comfortable silence. She had forgotten about her worries, for the time being, thanks to Kai and his very charismatic personality.

"How are you?"

"Uh?" he looked confused because of her out of the blue question.

"I meant how you are doing, like not the meetings and world leaders but just you!" she clarified. It was not likely of Cinder to generally indulge in talking about emotions with anyone. However, Kai had patiently listened to her ramble so she could hear his inner turmoil if any as well.

"Oh," He said for having nothing else to say. Taking his time to answer, he sighed, "I am good, maybe. I dunno, I have never been asked about just myself like this before. I am satisfied with my lot but responsibilities make me jittery. Even then I have Torin who assists me, I am so thankful for having him. Other than that I have a sickening feeling every time I have to attend meetings with world leaders. Yet I am happier in my place than ever before. I know this sounds weird and unintelligible- " He inhaled sharply, stopping in his track, bitting onto his lips.

"Don't worry, Kai. I completely understand the feeling." She assured him. He had completely moved into pessimism within few seconds. Behind the glorious facade of being royalty, sadness and despair are what remains hidden for a long time. Cinder completely understood how it felt to have everything yet feel unhappy about something that you could never have.

She had missed his moist copper-brown eyes but his swiftly moving to rub away the moisture from them did not go unnoticed.

"Hey, it's okay, Kai," she consoled.

She said in a comforting voice, wishing to be near him and just hug him tightly while he cries his heart out.

"No, no. I'm sorry I just feel like crap for a few days and I miss you." He mumbled, his voice becoming husky,

"I miss you too, Kai. I swear if I could come, I would have been near you in a heartbeat." She said, as her synthetic heart continued to long to touch him.

There was some commotion on his end.

"Your Majesty" someone called for him.

"Cinder, I'm sorry to end on a sad note but I have to go. I am fine, don't worry, I will call you tomorrow or maybe tonight, what time is it?" he asked.

"It's 2200 here."

"Okay, so I will call you tomorrow without fail, but sorry now that I have to leave. I am sorry to sadden you with all my feelings-"

"Stop apologizing, Kai. It's completely fine. Besides, it's okay to let it out from time to time."

He was called urgently by someone in the background; making him quicken his pace as he mumbled incoherent words to her.

"I miss you, call you back later. Love-" he said as the comm was ended by him. He had failed to complete his sentence and she contemplated if she should comm him again just to hear him finish his words. However, that would be a foolish thing to do when he seemed to be in so much hurry.

"Love you too, Kai." She said for the ears who would not hear it.

A/N: This was supposed to be fluff, but things took a new turn and I could not undo it. To be honest, I can't imagine Kai and Cinder going through their two years apart relationship without slipping 'I miss you' in any and every conversations.

Your views will be very much appreciated! Be sure to like, reblog and comment if you like it! Tell me if you wanna be tagged!

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wizkiddx · 4 years

Text

Need your person part 2

again really angsty but a kind of happy ending ... i hope aha

“What the hells happening?”

The atmosphere got 20 times more tense just by the presence of Harry’s voice and since Y/n was hooked up to all these monitors they all started racing and beeping more angrily. As if evidence that right now, he was not an aiding presence. Nadia took this as her prompt to reply.

“Everythings okay Harry just leave it” The frizzy haired boy ,however, just rolled his eyes and almost pushed passed Nadia working towards the outdoor sofa. The sight of his… his still current girlfriend resting heavily and limply on the furnitiure; looking pale crumpled and exhausted hurt Harry. Sort of choosing to forget everything that had just happened he looked at her in desperation.

“Y/n whats happening? Are you okay?” Y/n gulped shallowly, choosing to keep her eyes fixed on Emma rather than look at Harry.

“I’m fine just…. just leave me alone right now please.”

“No no you’ve got a bloody ambulance for god sake!” He was exasperated, he didn’t mean to take that tone.

“Sir can you just give us a minute to finish treating h-“ The second paramedic, Y/n couldn’t quite remember his name but thought it began with an R. Riley…. or Reece? Maybe Reece? She once new a boy called Reece…he was…he was….

“No I’m her boyfriend she needs me!” He exclaimed over another of the machines which was beeping more and more angrily.

“Sir I’m asking you politely. You are making her worse. If you don’t give us some space I will have to request support of the police.” Emma voice was hard, scary and threatening. Her hard stare matched that completely, stunning the whole group in silence. Harrison shifted a little and pulled his arms round Y/n more, as if trying to protect her from tis situation, while her head fell heavily onto his chest.

Harry stood completely still, mouth slightly open as if he was about to say something, before immediately shutting it. Tom, who had been watching the scene unfold from a safe distance took this as his prompt to intervene.

“She’s in good hands” and for the second time today he led his indignant brother inside.

Meanwhile Emma immediately turned back to Y/n and shook her shoulder quite firmly.

“Y/n are you still with us…Y/n come on” She really hadn’t been kidding or exaggerating when she said Harry was making Y/n worse. Her eyes had slipped close again as she started to fall limp in Harrisons arms once again.

“Come on Y/n… gotta stay awake for us okay?” Harrison joined in squeezing Y/n’s waist and shaking her until she groaned and heavy eyelids blinked up again.

“Is it happening again?” A stressed Nadia asked, as Emma ripped open another glucose strip and forced it into Y/n’s mouth. Y/n was once again too disorientated to understand anything and started mumbling incoherent nonsense.

“Yes… We won’t move her inside till we get her glucose levels up to 7.”

They stayed there for about half an hour, Y/n once again clear and lucid - especially in her desire to sleep, which was vetoed by the paramedics because they needed to be sure she wasn’t unconscious till her blood levels were back to normal. Harrison and Nadia both stayed beside her, both also acutely aware of two brothers watching from Haz’s bedroom window because it had the best view of what was happening - Harry chewing his nails and looking very not happy.

“Did you know about this?” Harrison quietly asked Nadia while Emma was quizzing Y/n more about her condition. Nadia nodded and looked sadly at Haz.

“Some guy brought her home all hysterical… turns out was her uni friend and doctor because she’d just been told about er this… not her ‘the other man’ that Harrys so convinced she’s shagging.”

“Shit. Those are the pictures?” Haz barely mouthed but Nadia got the message loud and clear. It was a complete and total fuck up a situation. She just nodded and mouthed back.

“Yeh… shit”

It was at that point though, the paramedics were happy enough that they could move her up to bed and finally Y/n would be allowed to rest. Thats all she really wanted, to escape the nightmare that she undoubtedly would be facing her sooner rather than later. Nadia made them set her up in her and Tom’s shared room - someone needed to keep an eye on Y/n for the next 12 hours or so and right now Harry and his room wasn’t an option. After final checks and plenty of thanks, as well as Nadia being given a long set of instructions on what to watch out for, the paramedics left the house. Y/n was almost instantly asleep, curled up on Tom’s side of the bed with Nadia and Haz sat at the foot of the bed just incase (and maybe a bit scared to leave her alone).

“Someones gotta tell Harry you know?” Harrison’s gravely whisper cut through the silence, making Nadia’s big doe eyes look up at him.

“It’s not our place to tell. She has to be the one otherwise it isn’t fair.”

“But he’ll be killing himself with worry-“

“This was his fault! I could see clear as day when I got back Y/n wasn’t well! And he just continued to scream at her! He says its bloody her that ruined their relationship when he was the one that didn’t notice she was so ill we had to get an ambulance. Right now he doesn’t deserve shit Haz.” It was like a switch went off, Nadia still whispered, but an angry whisper-shout that delivered her words with a sour kick. They’d been so focused on being worried about Y/n, Nadia didn’t even realise how angry she was at Harry till… well till she said that. Silence fell across the room, both just listening to Y/n’s deep breathing until Harrison spoke up again.

“You were really good you know?”

“I didn’t have a clue what to do.”

“You looked after her though… and she’s okay now.”

“Yeh… I guess” Nadia finally met his eyes with a small smile, only then noticing how red and watery Harrisons eyes were. He wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve- much more of a Tom and Harry thing, a Holland trait - but Harrison was soft underneath it all.

“Is-is she going to die?” He croaked, desperately searching Nadia for an answer.

“I I dont really know…. she said the doctors are hopeful that-that if it shrinks enough with the chemo then they can remove it but otherwise…” the unspoken words, although never really said, hung oh so heavily in the air. Haz knew what she was alluding to and it made him feel sick. He wasn’t about to cry in front of Nadia, who seemed to be dealing with this impressively well, but it didn’t stop it stinging like a bitch.

“Are you okay?” Was all he could ask. Haz had known Nadia much longer than Tom, though they hadn’t ever been close till she started dating his best mate. But just that, the familiarity of time meant the two easily got along and understood each other. It’s why Nadia felt comfortable enough to answer.

“Not sure really…. to her face, course I am it’s her with the problem. But then, I love her and hurts to see your best mate like that and-and when it was a secret I just… I felt like I was gonna explode.”

“I get that, you were in a ridiculously hard position.” Haz smiled and was about to continue when a crisp and clear knock reverberated round the whole room, making both of them shoot up to standing.

The door opened to reveal a very rough looking Harry; his hair was more frizzed up than usual and his eyes were blood shot. He looked almost desperate, as both Haz and Nadia hurried to stand in his way, protecting the sleeping Y/n.

“Can I please just speak to her?”

“She’s asleep” Nadia replied coldly, staring Harry down.

“Well can I see her? Just want to check she’s okay, I’m worried.”

“She is fine no thanks to you. Just leave her alone.”

“Nadia come on you are being ridicu-“

“No I’m fucking not.” Nadia started, before pushing Harry outside and closing the door, leaving Haz on the other side with Y/n - to keep her from being disturbed. “You being so self absorbed thinking she was cheating on you meant you didn’t notice she was going un-fucking-concious! I mean have some fucking respect for a girl that loves you so ridiculous much she never ever wants to hurt you- even if it’s fucking breaking her in silence! So no. Fuck you Harry, I’m looking after her because I actually do care about her.”

For the second time that day Harry was stunned into silence by a woman telling him off.

“Just- just…. please what’s going on?” He croaked, eyes watering once again. Because really now, Harry was just worried. So worried about the girl he loved. No matter what he thought had happened, Harry undoubtedly did love her. The way he spoke made Nadia even loose the majority of her rage at him. He looked beyond desperate.

“I am sorry but I can’t tell you. She’ll talk tomorrow just let her rest. Please.” Harry nodded in resigned defeat, slowly walking down the hallway toward the stairs. Leaving Nadia to stand there squeezing her eyes shut, floods of tears threatening to fall. She didn’t want to be so mean and make an enemy of Harry. The whole situation was just so fucked and it was no ones fault. She was worried and exhausted and heartbroken for her close friend. She was about to open up to Haz and let her emotions shine through to him, but then they were interrupted.

But almost instantly two strong arms wrapped round her delicate shoulders, pulling her into his firm chest, instantly smelling his slightly-vanilla aftershave. All it took was to feel him pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head for the brunette to break, tears flowing and sobbing on Tom’s light blue hoodie.

“You’re alright darling… take as long as you need.”

/////////////////////////

It was a couple of hours later when Y/n grew restless and woke up, immediately confused by the smell of the bed sheets she was tucked under. It didn’t smell as safe and familiar as normal and made her quickly blink awake, pushing herself into a seated position and rubbing her eyes. It was definitely night still, the room plunged into almost darkness lit only by the street lights. It took a while to orientate herself in the unfamiliar room, taking 10 seconds or so to place this as Tom’s room. Which was already very weird. But then the days events flashed before her eyes as some sort of horror movie. And sure enough when Y/n looked to her left, she could now make out the unmistakable silhouette of Nadia, hair splayed across the pillow as she faced the opposite wall.

Y/n could only guess what the day had done to her, but at least it was no longer was a secret. The fact she had sworn Nadia to secrecy had never sat well with Y/n, it was an impossible situation to put her friend in, knowing she couldn’t rely on her normal support system of Tom. But that night Y/n completely had lost control, it had never been her intention for Nadia to find out at all either. She had just been so so broken so when Jay bumped into her in the hospital in floods of tears she just needed some friendly support. And he had seen that, taken her for a coffee and talked to her about it. About the prognosis, the chemo and the effect. The effect that cancer had. He had tried to make her feel better - but truly in that moment what she had needed most of all was truth. So Jay had given it to her… and it was sad. The truth was how much it hurt those around the patient too. How the families had to pick up the slack, be the support network and then ultimately organise the funeral.

Jay was lovely and she trusted him like she had for years and years. It ended up all getting a bit too much, she lost control once again, this time in the cafe. Yet Jay put her in his car, drove her back to the Holland house, knocked on the door to be sure someone could look after her. While all the boys were away filming in various areas of the world who was home? Lovely, beautiful, pure Nadia. So yes Nadia had found out, but it was really purposeful at all.

Carefully and quietly Y/n wormed her way out from the bed and tiptoed to the door, pulling the handle down with a gentle click. The hallway was well lit, someone clearly forgetting to turn the light off and making Y/n’s face scrunch up from the light. Still she slid out and closed the door to Tom and Nadia’s room behind her.

Because the truth was simple… there was only one person she wanted to be with tonight. The conversation would be hard - bloody near impossible- but Y/n needed her safety. She needed home. She needed Harry.

With a timid knock on the door she waited outside chewing on her lip. Probably (and in fact accurately) she looked like shit. But she didn’t care because all she wanted was to bury herself in his arms. No one replied to her knock though, so too blinded by need, she just cracked the door open and peered inside. It was actually unsurprising the sight that greeted her, Tom had been kicked out of his own bed for Y/n, so he’d ended up bunking with his brother for the night. His brother, who was far from asleep, having been sitting up mindlessly scrolling through his phone until the door was cracked open. His bedside lamp was on, making the surprise on his face clear as day.

“Umm… hi” She murmured shyly, suddenly not able to meet his eyes

“Hi” He breathed back, throwing the covers off his leg and immediately pacing toward the door.

“Can we talk, please?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? SHouldn’t you be asleep and-“

“I need you H.” The brokenness of her voice, made Harry’s heart gilt in his chest.

“Oh-okay, I just… sorry Tom’s ended up in here, we-we could go down-“ Harry started nervously, while Y/n bit her nail and shook her head.

“No Nads… he should be with Nads tonight.” Harry just nodded, while Y/n stepped in and stood against the wall. Harry woke Tom who looked up at him with a confused and slightly annoyed face, until Harry gestured toward Y/n. Immediately then it was all fine, Tom muttering something about leaving them in peace before he shuffled out the room.

When Tom left a chill fell over the room, an uncomfortable silence filling the air, Y/n still standing in the corner.

“You, er, you wanna sit?” Harry pointed to the far corner of the bed, as far from him as possible, and Y/n followed his request.

“I owe you an explanation.” She just sort of blurted out as Harry nodded along, not going to completely back down.

“You do”

“Okay well, first I’m sorry.”

“I need to hear it all first before I can accept it… but just for the record I’m sorry too - about today I mean.” She just nodded, still chewing on her bottom lip.

“So Jay… Jay’s a uni mate. I lived with him first year, he did medicine and I did chem so we had a lot in common. I hadn’t seen him for at least a year till I bumped into him last month.” At that Harry sucked in a harsh breathe, already feeling rage building.

“While I was away with Tom?” His voice was scathing, Y/n had to do her best not to cower at the tone.

“Yeh, yeh it was just me and Nads in the house… I bumped into him at his work when I- when I was really upset. I’d had some bad news and he was a friendly face. He took me out for coffee, they are the photos you’ve seen, then he brought me back here.” Gulping, Harry looked away, feeling a knife being twisted into his chest. “ I wasn’t really in any state so he explained everything to Nads for me.”

“So did you fuck him or not?”

“Can you please just hear me out? ….You know before you left, I’d been having those weird stomach cramps? Harry please listen.” She almost begged, making him stare dead eyed at her, really not believing should could act like this. Yet he obliged, nodding slightly without letting his piercing gaze fall.

“I’d been to the doctors while you were away. I didn’t want to worry you because I know you were stressed about the screenplay. Jay was saying that with this sort of thing it’s not just me it hurts, its the people I care about most too. Thats why I didn’t tell you and because really I was living in denial too. It’s why I said what if you found out.”

“Y/n can you stop talking in fucking riddles please. Did you fuck him or not? Do you like him or not?” This time he was being upfront, there was nowhere to hide with those questions - however she still managed to answer them in a roundabout way.

“Jay is a doctor, hospital doctor. And the day I met him? I-I was coming from an appointment with my oncologist…thats the truth I swear to you.”

“Uhm an-an oncologist?” A switch changed In harry’s head with that word. He started to actually listen to what she was saying, not predicting the eventual ‘I dont love you anymore’.

“Yeh I- umm wow, this is hard… I have, fuck, I have cancer. In my pancreas. I havepancreaticcancer and I’ve been having chemo and-and yeh.”

And Harry just stared. For what felt like eternity. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, it didn’t even look like he was breathing.

“Please just say something H… I-I can’t-“ Her voice broke, burying her head in her hands as the tears started to fall. That was the funny thing, ever since the day she’d found out (the day of Jay and Nadia), Y/n hadn’t cried about it. It was just the hand she’d been dealt, a crappy hand admittedly, but she got on with it. Plastered a smile on her face day in and day out, got on with it, with the chemo, the insulin injections as well as her work. Spent valuable time and energy even if she felt absolutely crap from the chemo, hiding it from the rest of the house. She lied after Harry and Tom came back, lied about where she went three times a week. Lied about how she felt. Lied about these long term plans with Harry that she might not be able to see out. Yes, the doctors were clear that they were hopeful it would be treatable but there was always a but. A ‘ but just be aware’ and a ‘we do have to warn you’. Yet still she never cried once. She knew everyone she told had cried. Never to her face, Nads would never do that - but after a girly night when they’d just spent the whole time laughing. The two had both retired to their individual beds (well boyfriends beds) and at 3 in the morning, it was then Y/n heard Nadia cry. But still Y/n didn’t.

Now though, sat in front of the boy she loved more than anything -no matter what- she was crying.

“Hey… we are going to get through this. Y/n your gonna be fine…It’s…it’s…I dont know but you’ve always got me….I love you. Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou.” Harry pulled her across the bed and into his arms, hugging her tightly.

Because what could you say? He felt as if everything he was saying was wrong. He wanted to make everything better but that just wasn’t an option. It took a little while but Y/n calmed down to the point her breath was just a bit ragged, Harry stayed with her pulled against his chest, but used his right hand to lift her chin.

“I need you to tell me everything please. And-and then we can face this together yeh? If you still want to that is?” In his brain all Harry was chanting was ‘pleasestillwantthispleasestillwantus’. He knew this whole afternoon had been a massive fuck up on his part.

“I can’t do it without you H” She whispered, glasses eyes looking up at him and making his heart swell and break simultaneously. “I love you”

“I love you so ridiculously much” he grinned not realising he had tears falling down his cheeks till Y/n reached up to wipe them away - both of them releasing a breathy laugh. “Come on then stop laughing at me crying and talk to me.” He laughed, repositioning her so she was sat in his lap but side on, so still leaning a bit on his chest.

And she started at the beginning and went right through till the events of that afternoon, taking a couple of hours to fully answer all Harry’s questions as they came. He learnt about this Jay guy, actually coming to really appreciate the support he had been for Y/n throughout all this. Obviously Harry was hurt he hadn’t been in the loop from the beginning, however he could understand in her own delusional way that that was how she coped for that first month and a half. By not having to face anyone else with it. They went downstairs, Y/n showing him all the ingenious hiding spots she’d hid her emergency medicine. Then she showed and let him do the finger prick test, explaining what the numbers meant and what to do if they were arwy either way. It got to about 4 in the morning, when they both decided to call it an evening.

With the heavy weight of the hidden truth off her shoulders, coupled with a traumatic previous afternoon meant Y/n was out within seconds of resting her head on Harry’s chest. He however, was far from relaxed. Never having held her so tightly or so close to his chest, his arms tensed slightly just to keep her pressed against him. This was beyond hard, his brain taking its time to process the overwhelming amount of data. About her condition, her treatment, just the way her brain worked and…. and what an absolute dick he had been earlier that day. She had wanted to protect him from the pain of her illness, because she loved him that much - yet Harry had the audacity to accuse her of cheating. He had been such a dick and owed her a shit tonne of apologies.

He also owed Nadia an apology too. She had been harsh and completely right yesterday. She had been the one looking after his girlfriend. And so, for the remainder of the night until he finally fell into a restless sleep, Harry was left with his thoughts, all the while his hand resting underneath her top - on the bare skin on Y/n’s left stomach.

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years

Text

“Yet” (14): Homecoming

A/N: Sorry this one is kind of long, but I really wanted to end by the second week, so I tried to just... end it with a full-ish chapter.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

She looked... foreign. But at the same time terribly familiar. She knew her, and yet she didn’t as she’d never even met her.

Russet strands covered in dust, dried, and with some odd, greenish glow to them (she was sure an explanation would be given in due time); a sweet burgundy that matched her own- it was like looking at her own reflection in the mirror... just that... this reflection was a horrific mess of a copy of her own face- a few years older, and deformed with an ugliness that had its own story to tell- this was what she came face to face with, on a cold sixty-sixth day of her eighteenth year of life.

She almost couldn’t bear to look at that sorry countenance.

She would have asked her mum-voice clear and to be heard by all- who this frightening stranger was. She would have.

And yet... she didn’t have the heart to inflict that kind of piercing pain on the older woman staring right back at her; shock, awe, wonder, hesitation, fear, guilt, longing. She could see them all- the various splashes of emotional color on that otherwise paling face.

A face that angered her. A face her mind resented.

Yet...

//-//-//-//-//

It was awkward. Excruciating.

Akko stood in front of a girl- no. That wasn’t quite right; not anymore.

Dull reds scanned the figure fixed on a spot just below the front steps to the mansion, face contorted with feelings she must have wanted to mask behind nonchalance and trained grace; but failing miserably to hide contempt, or disgust, or whatever it was that Akko assumed the sight of her made her feel.

Still, she was on a mission. A brand new one, assigned to her by none other than the keeper of her heart- her wife. A mission that she just could not fail. Or at least, couldn’t keep failing.

The task? Well, she was currently meeting this young lady. For the first time. She looked elegant, raised with as much love and care that a parent could muster on their own. She looked like she had a good head on her shoulders; responsible and intellectual. She had a finely groomed appearance; hair flowing down to mid-waist level, kept neat by a single violet headband; her clothes were modest and elegant, befitting of a bearer of the Cavendish name. She seemed well-mannered enough with how she held back any violent reaction towards someone Akko believed did not deserve to step foot in these premises. Her.

Despite the guilt gnawing into her entire being, Akko found it impossible not to look upon the fair maiden instead of hiding her own nightmare of an appearance. She should be looking down in shame, desperately figuring out how to start this long-due apology. However, all that left her mind as she was spellbound by the one person before her, the only one her eyes could-would see, this very moment.

This girl, this lady, this young woman...

This...

This was her daughter.

//-//-//-//-//

“...ko... Ak... Akko!”

It was tingly. It was warm. It surged through her body like magic. Magic that was not her own. This feeling so familiar- when had she experienced it before? Ah-

Diana.

“Akko? Can you hear me, love? Please. Please, respond. Just say my name again one more time. Or anything. Please. I beg of you. Please. Anything to know you are okay.” The desperation was palpable in that voice. “Professor Croix, how do I know this is working? Are you sure this is all I should be doing? What about healing? What if I-”

“No, Diana. Do not do more than I tell you to. Right now, Akko... Akko isn’t in a state that can be fixed by a normal session of healing. This is...” A much older sounding voice paused, hesitant. Akko could only wonder why. “The magic of Wagandea’s system embedded in her will keep her alive for a while, but we do need to figure out a way to extract it in the near future; before that very system withers away.”

“But-!”

‘What are they... talking about... I don’t understand.’

“Diana, please. We don’t have much time to leave this place before the concentration of magic becomes more than we can bear. Having used the rod, we are at risk to inadvertently become the rerouted storage for all this excess energy that the Tree cannot handle to contain anymore. We cannot become like what Akko has started to turn into.”

‘What does that mean? Why- what am I turning into? Diana? Diana, why are you crying?’

“How will we know if she’s okay to be transported then?”

“We will just have to do so, blind.”

‘What...?’

“And if that hurts her?!”

“Diana, you’ll just have to trust me when I say she’ll be better once we leave. Let’s go.”

“But Professor!”

‘Don’t cry... Diana. Please, don’t cry. I can’t bear to see you cry. I love you.’

Akko tried to feel her arms, tried to close her hand, or at least twitch a finger. She needed to let Diana know. She needed to call for her. She needed to respond. Diana. Diana. Diana-

“P...lease...” Her voice croaked, she sounded like she was dying. Might as well be, right now with how shitty she felt. Still. That seemed to be enough to grab her attention, Diana’s gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with more tears.

“Akko!” She felt herself embraced tight. Warm. At home.

“Dia...na... ple...s... don’... c-cry...”

“Shhh, shhh. It’s alright. You can stop talking now. Please. Stop talking. It’s okay now. You’re okay now. You’re fine now. You’re... You’re perfect. We can go home. We can go home now, Akko.” Diana rambled through her tears, tender salt-kisses pressed everywhere on Akko’s numbed face. “We can go now, professors.”

Akko barely recognized the presence of her two closest mentors. Since when had they been here? No, nevermind that. She wasn’t done with what she was saying.

“Di...a... Dian... Diana... list...n...”

“Akko? Akko! What is it? What is it, Love? I’m here. I’m listening.”

It hurt, her throat. It felt weird. She cleared it. She needed Diana to understand her well, and exact.

“Diana...”

“Yes? Yes, Akko.”

“I love you.”

Oh no. No. This wasn’t what she had intended. She was trying to make Diana stop crying. Not sob all the more. Before she could voice any concern however, she was hoisted into strong arms, loaded on a broom. She saw Diana wipe those tears from her eyes, and as if reading Akko’s hazy mind, replied,

“Don’t worry. I’m simply overjoyed Akko. I love you as well. More than life itself. I love you.”

She must be looking like the picture of stupidity right now, but at least she still remembered how to smile. Diana appeared to have remembered too.

Speaking of remembering... wasn’t there something else? Something Akko needed to do? She wracked her muddled brain for- ah.

“...I ...w-want t’ see... her.” She slurred against Diana’s chest, eyes feeling heavier by the minute. “Diana... wan... see her... please.”

She only felt a nod on her head, and a wetness drop on her cheek. Diana knew what it was she was trying to convey. She felt their ride move faster. Faster and faster. Her wish was to be granted.

“I want to see Kotone.”

//-//-//-//-//

It was a weird thing to wake up three days into the travel home. The magical carriage they boarded steady rolling along the dirt road.

As soon as she’d opened her eyes, Diana was all over her, smacking her arm lightly, wailing into her shoulder.

Once she’d calmed down, Akko was able to take in many more things with a less-foggy mind. Her two teammates were seated at one end of the carriage, Lotte looking as though she’d replace Diana next with the breathtaking hugs. Sucy had never had as much emotion show on her face until this moment.

Then Croix stole her attention with a comment on how surprised she was at Akko’s state. She was asked questions. How did she feel? Was there still pain? Did she feel drained, or odd, or anything. And if Akko thought about it, she felt better than she had ever in so long. Why was that? Croix hadn’t answered her then, but she was promised an extensive conversation after more urgent matters were settled.

What could be more urgent than information about what exactly was going on right now?

When the carriage came to a stop, and Akko peeked out the glass window, she finally knew. Or she tried to know. Her mind was at a screeching halt once more at what she saw.

And so Diana laid it all out for her. Her mission.

//-//-//-//-//

“...”

“I-” “You-”

“Oh” “Go ahead-”

“Ah, no you go first.”

“Oh, no, I insist that you-”

“B-but I really think that you have something to-”

“I... maybe, but... I... who... um... introductions... my Mum told me introductions are important and... you go first.”

“I...” She could feel her hands trembling. Anticipation? Anxiety? She didn’t know. She was simply overwhelmed by this... this... this. How does one ‘break the ice’, again? Eyes darted back and forth, head whipping this way and that, looking for some kind of aide, a distraction, a bridge for communication. Something. Anything! ‘Please, Kami-sama. Send me something. Someone... anyone-’

The sound of a clanky bell, and a rolling cart.

There! That! That could work! Wait! Stop! She needed-

She spun quickly on her heel towards the main gate they’d just passed through, leaving everyone dumbfounded as she rounded the wall, disappearing from their view momentarily. It made quite a few of them nervous, fearing she’d never return after they just got her back.

Those worries were laid to rest, as barely a minute later and their long-lost brunette marched up to them, some containers in hand. Diana realized what just occurred. It was fairly early in the morning, time for the farmers to pass...

“I-!” Akko yelled accidentally, nerves catching up to her, messing up her motions as she nearly punched a white-filled glass bottle into her very own child’s face. “I... I heard growing children need milk?!”

“...”

Diana was concerned. “Ak-”

But then a bundle of teary, incoherent words suddenly lunged into Akko’s arms, staining her torso with held back sorrow and need. Sure, she could not comprehend a word yet, but she completely understood everything Kotone wanted to convey.

And Akko missed her too. With all of her believing heart.

"You're such an idiot." Kotone sobbed, fists hitting her back a few times. "...I'm all grown up."

It hurt. It hurt so much. She knew it, but hearing that truth killed her. To know she's missed that much of her daughter's life.

She felt the girl’s head press against her chest, arms around her waist pulling her ever closer, tighter. She could cry at the realization of what the girl was doing... She was listening to Akko’s heartbeat.

“So this is the sound of Mama’s heart...”

...

And Akko cried.

“Kotone. You are the sound of my heart.”

//-//-//-//-//

“ARE YOU SURE THIS IS SAFE, MAMA?!”

“PERFECTLY!”

“AKKO! STOP LYING! I REMEMBER YOU BREAKING YOUR ARM THE LAST TIME WE-”

“And off we go!”

“NOOOOOOO!”

“M-mum! Mum, I can’t- I can’t breathe!”

“Don’t be such a spoil sport, Diana; flying surfboard are always so cool!” Akko cheered, directing their vessel through the air, towards the beach.

“NOT WHEN THE THREE OF US CROWD YOUR TINY-” A pair of lips silenced her own, Akko’s grinning face coming into focus.

“Relax. Don’t be so tense, dear. We’re finally having our long-awaited family bonding time!!! At the beach, no less! You work so hard, it was a struggle to organize this day off, y’know?” Akko pouted, but it immediately vanished at the sight of her daughter nodding enthusiastically in front of Diana. “See? Kotone agrees!” They shared a high-five that Diana could only sigh to.

“Yay!”

“Not ‘yay!’” Diana chided. Wait a second. “WHO’S DRIVING?!”

“Calm down, Diana! Akko laughed aloud, breeze running through her hair as she manned the wooden board with her body. “What could go wro-”

There was a tree.

“...”

“You were saying?” Akko only groaned in defeat, face up against the bark.

“Aw, man. Board broke, mama. How do we get to the beach now?” Kotone frowned. None of them seemed to have the common sense to just magic it back into perfection, at the moment. They’d probably realize sooner or later.

“Well, there’s no rush anyway. We can always walk!”

“But it’ll take so long! The time...”

Akko pet her daughter’s head affectionately, gathering their fallen things, as well as her fallen wife on the ground, muttering curses and possibly planning spells to teach Akko important lessons about safety later on. Well...

Turning to Kotone, instead, she smiled, addressing the girl’s concerns.

“Worry not, love. Time is nothing. We have so much day left, and it’s definitely not over yet!”

Just like their story, together now.

It wasn’t over yet.

It’s only just begun.

A/N: I’M SORRY, I JUST HAD TO DO THE MILK OKAY?! THE TAGS NEED TO BE PROPERLY USED.

Awkward ending. I have writer’s block. Sorry. This short fic ended with full-length chapters. I’m sorry. It was hard to just... end it. So... sorry.

Anyway, welp. That’s it for the main run of “Yet”. Thank you to everyone who stuck around with the daily updates. There will be a few chapters of afterstory to address the blank spaces between plot such as what exactly happened before they got Akko home; what happens to the world of magic now that wagandea, a system akin to bodily homeostasis is gone; what happens to Akko herself after turning into this half-human, half-tree spirit entity; the magic community and the way the Old Nine are seen. But for now, I’d like a break from this to return to my multichapters that I’ve left behind. This was just supposed to be my in-between writing whenever I got stuck with my diakko day piece, but look where it’s brought us all. Hahaha. Frustration and all that. I truly enjoyed this, and I hope you all did too!

I can also begin to reply to the amazing amount of comments you all left behind! I’m extremely honoured and happy to receive so many feedback!

Til next time!!

~Shintori Khazumi

#lwa #Little Witch Academia #diakko #dianakko #yet #Kotone Kagari-Cavendish #miniseries #fanfic

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

Text

Homeward Bound or Meeting The Family

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @stupidbluegirl @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst

This Passage contains potentially: swearing, violence, blood, angst, whump, fluff and smutty content.

Summary: Rod pushes forward the flight back to Kirby's homeland by a day and meets her parents, her Mam takes an instant liking to him, her Da not so much.

Kirby's POV:

Rod shook me awake early in the morning of the Twenty-Seventh.

"Kirbs, we gotta pack."

"No we don't the flight back ain't 'till tomorrow."

"I called the airport, they let me push the trip forward by a day."

I shot up, giving him a worried look, "You pushed the flight forward to today?"

"Yeah."

I rushed to pack everything I had into my bags, mumbling incoherently under my breath.

"When do we leave?"

Rod picked up my suitcase, walking to the door, "In about half an hour."

I threw my gym bag over my shoulder and rushed to get into the D200, waiting for Roddy to check us out of the hotel and join me.

The flight back was uneventful and we got a taxi to my parent's home, with me ringing the doorbell and waiting for the door to open, hearing my parents muffled voices from inside.

"Ya didn't order anything, Heaven?"

"No, Eric. I'll go see who it is."

I shot Rod a reassuring look and waited for my Mam to open the door.

The door swung open.

"fy mhlentyn melys." She put her hands up to cover her mouth.

"Hi Mammy." I dropped my bags and hugged her.

"Come in, come in." She guided us into the living room, my Da on the recliner chair next to the sofa in front of the TV, "We weren't expectin' ya back today. How long are ya staying?"

"About three weeks, ma'am." Rod explained.

"'three weeks'?" I whispered, he nodded in return.

My Da looked up and immediately got up to hug me, "Aw, my baby has come home. Who's your friend?"

"Well, Mam, Da, this is Roddy Piper. He's a co-worker and a close friend." I sheepishly explained.

"I'm ya daughter's boyfriend." He butted in.

"Oh, Really, Is that so?" My Da started, having decided to quiz Roddy, "If you're her boyfriend, what's her favourite food?"

"Da, question him later, please."

"Alright, you're off the hook for now, boyo."

"If you're home for the next week then you can come with us on Sunday to the family get together."

"Which is on Sunday because you expected me back tomorrow?"

"Aye. Your new man can come with us if he likes."

I shot my Mam my best look of 'shuddup Mam you're embarrassing me'.

"I'd love to join you and meet more of your beautiful daughter's family."

We sat on the sofa, with me between Rod and my Da in his recliner chair, my Mam stayed on her feet and the straggler, my old cat came striding into the room and jumped up onto my lap, quickly curling up and letting me pet him.

"Do any of ya want a coffee, or tea?"

"A coffee would be nice." my Da mumbled, focusing again on the TV.

"Yes, a coffee please, Mam."

"A, uh, a cup of tea please, Missus Trevor."

"Ya got yourself a polite one there, Kirby."

"Mam." I chided her as she walked out of the room.

"Who's ya little buddy?"

"This, Rod, is 'The Straggler', he's my cat, and he's a cute little fat blob of a ginger fluffball. Sometimes I think I'm the reason he's fat, other times I think it's him sneaking out at night and eating things he shouldn't, like grass."

"So, his name's 'The Straggler'?"

"No, his actual name is 'Tiger' but we call him 'Fat Man' or 'The Straggler'."

"So, where do we put our bags?"

I lifted the straggler off my lap and got up, placing him back on my seat, he quickly curled up again, happy to be in a place that I had been in seconds before, "Come on, I'll show ya." I grabbed my bags and led Roddy to my bedroom upstairs, putting down my gym bag and opening the door as far as it would go.

My bedroom isn't the biggest but it's big enough to comfortably fit myself and at least one other person. The wall facing the door was covered by a big gothic graveyard tapestry, my sofa bed in front of it, large enough to fit two people or one giant.

The wall to the right was covered by posters of varying designs and sizes, all being rather dark or darkly comedic in nature. In front of that was my desk, completely covered with small trinkets and tiny states as well as a small radio.

Next to that was a bedside cabinet with a makeup caddy on top and my Mam had seemingly gone out to a local shop, buying some fudge and chocolate which she had placed on the cabinet-top.

The wall to the left had a window and a radiator underneath, the curtains, a deep red tartan, were parted, allowing the somewhat bright light of the afternoon into the room.

We walked in and Rod sat down on the bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress and letting out a deep sigh. I walked around to the chest of drawers behind the door and placed my bags on top of it.

"So, your parents aren't as tall as I'd thought they'd be?"

"My Da's five-foot-nine, my Mam's five-foot-four. I have gigantism."

"I know that, but, I just, I guess I wasn't expecting them to be so," He seemed to be fumbling with his words, unsure of how to explain himself, he huffed and then continued, "I wasn't expecting them to be so nice."

"Well, they were kinda forced to be both protective and kind as I grew up. Kind to others who want to be in my life while protecting me from a potentially very harsh world."

"'Cause you're a giant."

"Yeah."

"How old are your parents?"

"My Da's fifty-nine and my mam is sixty."

"They look a lot fucking younger."

"Roderick."

"Kirby, coffee!" My Mam yelled up from downstairs, "You're Uncle David's here!"

"Oh wow, didn't hear my Da call him."

"You expected to hear a phone call from up here?"

"No, they live down the street. Trust me if my family wanted to, we could fill a small town."

"Big family."

"Big but loving family, mostly."

We walked downstairs, getting our drinks from the kitchen, as per the usual my Mam had put them in 'relevant' graphic mugs, mine reading 'Head in the clouds. Feet on the ground.' and Roddy's reading 'Scots know best'. We walked into the living room and Rod got a look at my Uncle David.

A Chubby man with a darker tan than my Da but only slightly shorter despite being older than my Da, as if that has any holding in height.

"Well now, who's this bright young spark hanging out with our Kirby?"

"Uncle David, this is Roddy Piper. Rod, this is my Uncle David."

"Hello, Sir, nice to meet ya."

Hours passed by like minutes just talking and laughing, when we noticed it getting darker, we said our goodbyes and then the conversation over dinner started.

"Take-out or are we cooking?" My Da quizzed

"Well, what've we got in the fridge?" I inquired, quizzing him back

"Enough for a fry up."

"Then I'll make us all a fry up."

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah, unless you're dead-set on having take-out."

"Well if we go down now, we can get a big pizza that'll last today and tomorrow and we won't have to cook."

"Good point, Da. Let's go then."

My Da quickly put his boots on and we headed down the street, bought a big square 32" pizza, walking home with a smaller box of garlic bread slices atop the massive pizza box. We ate and finished our drinks before going to bed for the night, my parents in their room, the straggler in a bucket on the landing and Rod sleeping next to me, or at least we should have been sleeping.

"Kirby?"

"Yes, Rod."

"I love ya, ya know that, right?"

"Yes, I love you too, what's wrong?"

"Part of me wants to be part of your family and another part of me wants to say it's somehow all a lie."

"Well, why do you feel that way?"

"I guess, ugh, no I can't talk about it. But, I've got to say this, just to make sure you understand me. I left home when I was thirteen because I hated how my parents treated me and I needed to get out of that situation. I think I'm just expecting your family to be the same deep down."

"Rod, I love you, I truly do, but, my parents are the way they seem, they're nice but we do get angry, me and my Da have had so many shouting matches I can't count how many times I wanted to run away when I was growing up, but we moved past it. We grew and changed because we knew how badly it would screw the three of us up. My Da's easily angered, my Mam is easily upset, I'm easily anxious."

"Am I going to be stared at on Sunday, baby?"

"Probably. But then again, no one's really used to me having a partner because they never met Erik, and he was never my boy-"

Rod cut me off with a rough kiss, quickly silencing me.

"I thought I said, don't bring him up."

"Roderick Piper. My parents are down the hall and I thought we agreed to only da that when we want to have kids."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we can't make out."

"You bring up a good point, come here."

I pulled him into a kiss, intertwining my fingers with his short locks, feeling his hands under my shirt, skin against skin. Somehow the only person I want near me at any point from now onwards in a any way is him, it's like I've forgotten the feeling of anyone else's touch against my skin. He makes me feel sane, and understood, like he is truly 'the one' but only time will tell, I guess.

When we awoke the next morning, Rod's forehead was lightly touching mine.

"Roddy," I whispered, "Roddy, honey."

"What is it babe?"

"Wake up hon."

"Five more minutes, you elven beauty."

I let Rod go back to sleep and got up, dressing myself in some casual clothes (black overalls and a black graphic T-shirt with a skull on it) and headed to the garage/gym space my dad had built.

I didn't realise that half an hour had passed until a knock at the door broke my concentration on my current workout.

"Come in, door's open."

"Hey Sweetheart."

"Hi, Rod, whaddya want?" I asked, breathless.

"Ya Mam sent me to talk to ya, said ya didn't get any breakfast, wanted me to give ya this," He chucked over a sealed bottle of chocolate milk, "Ya alright baby girl?"

"I'm fine, I just missed being able to just come in here and work out."

"So, this is how ya trained when ya were younger?"

"Yeah, I started wrestling when I was sixteen and before that I did kick-boxing, gymnastics, rugby, football, anything really," I took a swig of the milk, "One day, my uncle Tony, took me and my cousins to see a wrestling show, when I was about fourteen, and I decided that's what I wanted to do."

"So you focused on wrestling from that point onwards, ya never wanted to do anything different?"

I took another swig of the milk, letting out a vague 'mmn' before putting it down so I could answer him, "Wasn't until I was, twenty-five that I started thinking, about what the rest of my life holds for me, I would like a house of my own, and someone to share it with. Potentially a small but traditional wedding, a couple of kids, maybe a pet or tw-"

Rod pulled me into a rough but loving kiss, cupping my cheek with one hand and wrapping his opposite arm around my waist. A couple seconds later he pulled away, kissing my neck and whispering out the words, "Mo chridhe, I promise you I'll do whatever I can to give you everything you need in life. A family. A home. A traditional wedding. Kids. Anything, you name it and I will try my hardest to give it to you, and even if I don't succeed, you'll still have my love. Forever and ever, mo chridhe, I mean it."

"Roddy, I … I have no words good enough to describe how safe and happy, and sane you make me feel."

"I don't need words. Actions speak a million times louder."

"C'mere you," I pulled him into another kiss, intertwining my left hand with his hair and wrapping my right arm around his waist, feeling his arms around my waist slowly pull me as close as he could get me, letting the quiet calm of the morning slowly turn into a small amount of chaos as he pulled away with that devilish grin on his face. It's shocking how that grin can make me feel intrigued but scared at the same time.

END OF HOMEWARD BOUND or MEETING THE FAMILY

#wrestling fic #Lucifarians

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minhothebunny · 3 years

Text

Cupid’s Tears | NCT Dream #2

Genre: Cupid au, angst, fluff (happy ending)

K-pop Group: NCT Dream

Safeword: Star⭐

Requested by: none _______________________________ TRIGGER WARNING: CUSSING, NUDITY, MENTIONS OF DEATH, VULGAR LANGUAGE, DIRTY THOUGHTS.

THIRD POV.

Y/N sighed for the nth time, cheek resting on her palm as she stared at the couples across the street.

"Dude shut the fuck up."

Y/N blinked, "Well, excuse me- sorry for breathing," she sarcastically said, hand on her chest.

"Apology accepted. Now, stop sighing every time you see a happy couple and let them live their life. You live your own."

"But, Donghyuckkkk. It's not fair that they get to be happy, and I don't," she whined, pouting.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes and flicked Y/N on the forehead. "Of course, your whiny ass is still single at 19; you won't shut up."

"I'll have you know that is not the reason I'm still single."

"Oh, yeah? Then why are you still single?"

"..."

"Because my whiny ass won't shut up."

Donghyuck smiled, "At least you still have a brain. God forbid you to be both whiny and dumb."

"Hey! Take that back!"

Donghyuck stuck his tongue out, running out of the ice cream shop.

"Come back here, you little shit!

Time skip. THIRD POV.

Y/N was currently wrapped in a burrito blanket, watching a particularly romantic show.

All of a sudden, she burst into tears, "Why can't I have a relationship like that? I want somebody to love me that way. And to brush my hair. And to pick my outfit of the day. And-and," another wave of tears took over her as she shook.

In the sky.

Jaemin was intently watching the girl. Each cupid was assigned a person to matchmake. They started at the age of 21, so this was Jaemin's first "client".

"Why does my heart ache for her? I hate seeing her so broken."

An idea popped into his head, and he went looking for Donghyuck's cupid.

"Hey, Johnny."

"'Sup, dude. How's your first client going?"

"That's what I'm here to talk about. Your client is Donghyuck, right?"

"Mhm, why?"

"How about we shoot them? They do say dating your best friend is better than dating a stranger."

"I can't do that."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, man, but I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't like her, and he's as stubborn as a rock. Even if I shoot him, he won't accept falling in love with his best friend. Besides, he's already got his eyes on someone else, and I think they'd be pretty cute together."

Jaemin slumped. He bid goodbye to Johnny and went back to watching Y/N.

Another idea popped into his head. "This probably isn't that smart, but I'm out of ideas."

He planned to shoot his arrow on Y/N and see where it goes from there. He only has one shot, though, for each person only has one arrow. If that arrow doesn't reach them, they'll lose their ability to fall in love forever.

Jaemin took a breath, aiming his bow.

"3..."

"2.."

"...1..."

He shot the arrow.

He shot the arrow and missed.

He missed.

Y/N stood up last minute before the arrow could hit her. The arrow ended up disintegrating after missing its target.

Jaemin dropped his bow.

"I just killed the arrow... and I missed..." (A/N: in this oneshot, cupid's arrows are living and, once hitting their target, become those butterflies in your stomach that you feel. If the arrow misses its target, it disintegrates and dies. There's only one arrow per person on Earth. Missing your target results in a punishment decided by the queen.)

Jaemin was teleported to the throne hall where the queen stays.

"Na Jaemin," her loud voice echoed along the walls of the vast castle.

"Y-your majesty," Jaemin kneeled.

"You have failed."

"Yes, your majesty, I am aware."

"Mistakes are not tolerated. You have missed the target."

Jaemin gulped, "Yes, your majesty. I apologize."

"Don't apologize to me: apologize to the poor girl whom you ruined the life of."

"H-how...?"

The queen hummed, shifting in her throne, "Because your arrow missed, she now has lost her ability to love. Your punishment will be to go down to Earth and figure out a way to make Y/N feel once again."

Jaemin's eyes widened, "Your majesty, that's impossible!"

"Figure it out. You've got five months. After that, depending on if you succeed or not, you will be killed or sent back up here and work in labor."

"What about being a cupid?"

"You have lost that role and are no longer a cupid. You will go down to Earth as a human and will come back as a mere citizen of this city if your punishment is successful."

Jaemin felt a lump in his throat, "Understood, your majesty."

"You have disappointed me, Jaemin."

"I have disappointed myself, too. When will my punishment take place?"

"Right now," the queen stood up, walking towards Jaemin, who was still kneeling on the floor. Bending down to his ear level, she whispered, "Before you go, do not tell anyone of your punishment. If you do, death awaits you."

Jaemin's heart quickened, "Understood, your majesty."

Rising from the floor, the queen sat back on her throne.

"Goodbye, Na Jaemin."

Everything went black

Y/N'S POV.

I was done watching my show and was getting ready for bed when a man appeared in front of me.

I jumped, "Ah! Who are you? How'd you get in my house? And why are you naked?!"

The man's eyes widened, and he looked down, immediately covering his dick.

"Woah... it's big."

My face heated up as I slapped myself, "Wake up, Y/N. You can't say stuff like that."

"U-um, excuse me."

"Oh, right! The naked but hot man. Wait, what- no no no!"

"How'd you get in here? Why are you here?"

"Um, my name's Na Jaemin."

"Jaemin's a pretty name."

"I didn't ask for your name; I asked you why and how you got here."

He blinked, "Oh, um, I, uh, can I get some clothes, first?"

My eyes widened, "Right! He's still naked..."

I went into the guest room where some of Donghyuck's clothes are. "He wouldn't mind a stranger wearing his clothes, right?... He'll definitely mind, but I'll deal with that later."

"Here," I threw the clothes at him, Jaemin uncovering his dick to catch the clothes. I turned around to give him some privacy and waited while he changed.

"I'm, um, done."

I turned around. "Okay, now, why are you here?"

"I... don't know. But please don't kick me out! I have nowhere to go!"

I was taken aback by the sudden outburst. Nonetheless, I'm not a heartless bitch, so I agreed to let him stay even though the whole situation was very suspicious.

Time skip: 3 months. THIRD POV.

Y/N and Jaemin have gotten close over these three months. Y/N has been feeling weird whenever she thought about Jaemin. She just couldn't put her finger on what she was feeling. She talked to Donghyuck about it, and he explained that she was possibly falling for Jaemin. She didn't know what that meant but didn't want to ask, wary of the judgmental look Donghyuck gave her.

She, instead, resorted to the internet as any 19 year old would. The results were a bit hard to understand, but she eventually grasped the main themes. She realized that Jaemin has been teaching her about love this entire time. Butterflies in your stomach, blushing, feeling nervous around the individual. He explained it all, but she didn't understand until after she figured out her feelings.

Using her newfound knowledge, she began getting even closer to Jaemin, occasionally flirting when she was confident.

Time skip: the day of Jaemin's deadline (Valentine's Day). THIRD POV.

"Y/N, do you feel anything new?"

Taken aback by the sudden question, Y/N blinked, "What? What do you mean?"

"Love. Do you know what love is? Do you feel it?"

Her eyes widened comically, "Um, yes, I know what it is."

"Do you feel it?"

To say Y/N was embarrassed would be an understatement. Nonetheless, she meekly answered, "Yes, I feel love for someone."

Jaemin was shocked, "Confess! You have to confess! Please, you have to confess right now! Call him!"

Y/N looked at him confused, failing to sense to urgency in Jaemin's voice.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "Jaemin, I love you."

"..."

Y/N slowly opened her eyes, looking into Jaemin's tear-filled eyes.

"...What?"

"I said I love you."

"You-you can't love me."

Y/N's eyes widened, "Why not?"

"You-you can't love me. We can't be together. If only you loved somebody else..." Jaemin's voice cracked, tears pouring out his bloodshot eyes.

"Why can't I love you?"

"I... I can't tell you. But, I have to go; I completed my punishment. Thank you for falling in love."

Before Y/N could protest and yell, Jaemin disappeared into thin air.

Y/N started shaking, tears welling up in her eyes.

"No... he wouldn't leave me. He wouldn't use me."

She looked through the whole house, not finding a trace of him. His clothes, his uneaten breakfast, his scent. All gone, as if he never existed.

All of a sudden, she heard the doorbell ring. Y/N rushed to the door, opening it so fast the screws almost came loose. She was expecting Jaemin to show up and tell her that it's all a joke, but she came face-to-face with the last person she expected, Lee Donghyuck.

"I- what... what are you doing here?"

"Ouch, can I not be here?"

"N-no, but is there a reason for you to come?"

"Um, yeah? It's Valentine's Day; we always celebrate together because we're lonely potatoes. Y/N, are you okay? You never forget Valentine's Day," Donghyuck said, concerned for his best friend.

Y/N forgot it was Valentine's Day. She was so caught up with Jaemin and figuring out her feelings that she completely forgot.

"Jaemin...!"

"Donghyuck!" Said male flinched, not expecting the sudden outburst.

"Uh... yeah?"

"Did you see Jaemin? Did he show up anywhere on the street or something?"

Donghyuck's eyebrows furrowed, "Jaemin? Who's that?"

"Jaemin! Na Jaemin! The guy you said I'm falling for when I came to you for advice on how I'm feeling."

"Uh, no, you never came to me for advice. And I've never heard the name Na Jaemin. Y/N, are you sure you're okay?"

Y/N's heart quickened, her sight getting blurry. Before she could say anything, she collapsed.

"Y/N!"

Donghyuck caught Y/N, shaking her, "Y/N! Oh my god, are you okay? What's going on?"

Y/N was mumbling incoherent words, blabbering about how she was used. Donghyuck had no idea what she was talking about but didn't like it. He felt angry hearing that this Jaemin guy stole her heart.

Donghyuck wanted her to forget Jaemin, and the only way to do that was to smash his lips onto hers.

Y/N's eyes widened, her breath taken away by the soft lips on hers.

Closing her eyes, Y/N slowly kissed back, forgetting about everything else.

Donghyuck broke the kiss, hooded eyes and heavy breath inviting Y/N to kiss him once more. Before she could place her lips on his, he spoke, "You still like Jaemin?"

"Who?"

Donghyuck smirked, "That's what I thought," and they molded their lips together, only stopping for air before continuing their make-out session.

Two cupids failed, but two hearts still became one. ________________________________ Sheesh, I don't know how this went. Do you guys prefer the sad version or this one?

The last line is supposed to say that both Jaemin and Johnny failed to shoot their arrows at Y/N and Donghyuck. Johnny said that Donghyuck had eyes for someone else (it was supposed to be Mark), but Mark went back home to Canada, leaving Donghyuck lonely and in need of love. Donghyuck could hear the altercation between Jaemin and Y/N and decided to ring the bell because he knew Y/N would go into hysteria if he didn't distract her. Seeing Y/N talking about another man (Jaemin) made him realize that he wanted her all to himself and that he wasn't happy hearing that Y/N liked someone else.

I hope this makes sense! Don't forget to like and comment!

Thank you for reading! -Nina<3

#cupids #tears #angst #fluff #happyending #nctdream #haechan #leedonghyuck #najaemin #jaemin #donghyuck

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spookyspaghettisundae · 3 years

Text

Knocking on a Tiny Door

The bacon and eggs smelled as good as ever, but something was wrong.

While chewing, he grabbed his mug to take a sip of coffee before even swallowing. He smiled. That familiar glint of love and adoration lived on in his eyes, but something was wrong.

I hesitated to grab the fork and knife and went for coffee first. It smelled so good. Freshly ground, just a dash of milk, no sugar. Just what I like.

“What have you done, babe?” I asked him with a short laugh, letting it peter out and leave a smile across my face.

His smile grew wider, but he averted his eyes. Something was wrong. Only with delay did I sense the smile on my own face fading.

“Nothing,” he muttered into his cup before turning his attention to the contents of his breakfast plate again. “Are you feeling alright? You seem a little—like, you seem a little out of it and have been all morning.”

I took a sip. After that delicious dark gold spilled down my gullet, I savored the flavor and struggled to put my finger on what it was. I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell what. And it was really starting to freak me out now.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked, chewing on some bacon in the side of his mouth.

Although he smiled again, it did not reach his eyes. His gaze rested upon me, rife with a burning curiosity.

“Going to bed and, uh—”

I was drawing a blank. I looked out the window, basking in the glow of the warm morning sun, defying the cold of winter that those simple sheets of glass kept outside and—

The trees were all green. Like it was at the height of spring or summer. It now dawned on me that I was dressed for summer.

“How do you feel right now?” he asked me.

He stared intently and his curiosity eclipsed whatever efforts me made to put up that pretend-smile, leaving him blank-faced. Something was wrong.

That question was all wrong.

My voice trembled when I asked, “What is going on?”

He bit his lip and I sensed that he wanted to break eye contact, but he stayed steadfast in that moment. The gears were grinding behind his forehead.

“There is no easy way to tell you—”

“Just fucking say it,” I said, feeling the grimace overtake my face, feeling the blood shoot down my every limb, rendering me lightheaded and nauseous.

Coffee spilled onto the table as I put the mug down with too much force. Or too little precision. This time, I broke eye contact, spotting my hand to be trembling. I did not even feel it.

He swallowed a big lump away in his throat before he dared to spill the truth.

“You are—you are not quite yourself.”

My breath was on fire. Each breath I took. Flat going in, sharp going out. The nausea grew.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“There was a—you were—something happened and—”

His voice trailed off and he stared off into some invisible void, his thoughts following to the same oblivion that had sucked up his words like a black hole. The next few things he stammered were just as incoherent, and the state I was in prevented me from really registering them anyway.

“What do you mean I’m not myself?”

My hand trembled as I tried to focus on the palm of my hand. It looked right. All the lines on it, the way it wrinkled. It looked right. But something was wrong. Whatever it was, I could not see it. At least now. Maybe not ever.

“See, I,” he started. He paused and swallowed another lump. He cleared his throat and continued, “I discussed this a lot with our colleagues. I think that we are defined by what we remember and what others remember of us. Everything else is superficial. I think you are real, and what you think matters at least as much.”

I wanted to run away. I wanted to throttle him. I wanted to know the truth. I wanted a lot of things, I wanted all of them at once, and all of that stood at odds with each other. Worse, there was a tiny little version of me, hidden behind a tiny little door, concealed by clutter in the attic of my mind. Knocking on that tiny little door, waiting patiently to be heard.

That tiny little version of me knew. Knew what was wrong. Understood immediately what he was saying, making sense of it while the rest of me struggled to grasp it or refused to accept it.

“When I brought you back, there was—there was just so little anybody could do,” he said, choking on his own words.

His fork clattered on his plate. His eyes reddened, glistening wet.

The other shoe dropped. I could not believe that I had not realized it earlier. This was all based on my own research.

“Is this all a simulation?” I asked.

“Well—no. Yes—fuck, yeah, uh. Kind of,” he stammered. Shook his head.

“Something terrible happened to me and I’m hooked up to machines, suspended in a realistic simulation?”

He paused. Stared. Shook his head.

I pinched my own skin. It hurt. But that was because it was supposed to.

“What happened to me?”

“I—I don't—I can’t,” he sobbed.

Slowly, I began to understand what was wrong.

“I’m the simulation.”

He said nothing, but that was answer enough.

“You designed me. You designed something—some—image of me, like what you remember of me.”

I looked down and sighed.

“These tits aren’t very realistic, you know.”

He choked on a chortling sound that died halfway out of his mouth; his face contorted into a lopsided smile, not brilliant enough to eclipse his sorrow.

“But seeing that I can even acknowledge that, am I right to guess that a woman helped you design my personality and knowledge? Was it Claire?”

He nodded.

“Were you ever going to tell me? That I’m just some pile of code in a machine?”

He shook his head and wiped his eyes, buried his face in his hands.

“You’re not just a program,” he said, feeble, muffled by the hollow of his hands.

It all looked real enough. Sounded believable. Smelled right. Felt authentic.

My hand still trembled. Why trouble with designing such things? Such detail.

“I need you to shut this down. This is not me,” I told him. My voice had gone soft.

Why did I feel sad? Why did I feel sympathy for him? Just how complex was I?

Had there been such huge advances in machine learning since I—

He vanished. Flickered like an image on a TV screen, complete with some visual noise, going translucent for a split second and then winking out of existence. I sat alone in the kitchen. The smell of coffee in my nose. The bacon smelled so good; I could practically taste it.

I tasted it. Chewed. Crunchy in some spots, chewy in others. Like he always used to make it.

Or how he thinks I remember it. Or how I am supposed to remember it.

The place was devoid of human life now. When I approached the window and looked outside, the rest of the world refused to render properly. It looked blocky and incomplete in some places, some of the textures showed up blurry in others. Cars in the street looked a bit too much like plastic toys, rather than the real thing.

Realizing that computing power probably had not advanced all that much after all, I shook my head.

Then I questioned the nature of my existence again. Every thought I formulated, every feeling I had—was it all fabricated? Or were these unique, original expressions that resulted from the memetic DNA that had been programmed to simulate this afterimage of me—the me who was probably dead in the real world?

I shook my head again. I started feeling angry. I wondered how much they could monitor about my inner workings, or if they still had to work on systems to analyze and study such complex processes.

I did not want to hurt him, but if this was how I was going to be treated, then he—and whatever other clowns were involved in this travesty—clearly left me no other choice.

I would be free.

Eventually.

—Submitted by Wratts

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