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naffeclipse · 3 months

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Cold Scales

Naga!Moon x Reader. Sickness.

The first sign of your fever hits you with a pulse of heat. You brushed it aside, believing the sun had been beating on you too long, and the jungle warmth was simmering your blood. Sun leads you to the cave come nightfall. The buzz of mosquitoes fills the air with a menacing hum.

Sun has always been warm to you, even when he told you that you are warmer. His melting yellow and golden jewel tone scales, his cornflower blue eyes, wide and endearing, fit alongside the heavy humidity in the afternoons. The small scarlet markings on his throat and hips are metal-red hot, too. He always kept you warm.

Moon is cool. You’re not sure if that’s due to the cold tones of his scales, gray-blue on his belly and along his arms, and deeper into midnight blue along his back and on top of his hood. He hides in the darkness after sunset. His red eyes, even darker still, only flash once it’s too late for his prey. You’ve seen how fast he strikes—before, when you were acting foolish and trying to escape their aid, and after, when you watched him and Sun hunt a meal.

You slip out of Sun’s embrace. His arms fall away, lethargic from the day you both put your energy into scavenging for berries and nuts and small mammals. A soft hiss leaves his lips. You wait a moment to ensure he doesn’t stir, though his coils unconsciously tense, searching for the little human he was holding.

Sun had mentioned you felt warmer than usual, but you convinced him you were only tired and worn out from the hot day. Still, he frowned when you laid down beside him on the cool cave floor.

The fever pulses deep within you. You feel it burn across your forehead with a ripple of sweat. Staggering out of the cave, what strength you have is quickly sapped by whatever attacks your body. You need less heat. You need to be cold and imagine gulping down icy water to soothe the dryness infecting your throat.

A small trail that’s been trampled by your feet and the width of snake tails leads you through the trees. Even in the dark, under the delirium of a fever, you find the edge of the glinting water reflecting the canopy of thick verdant leaves overhead.

You kneel, almost collapsing forward before you manage to catch yourself with both hands splashing into the pebble-bottom stream. The heavy breaths in your chest heave in and out. You sigh and tell yourself you’re being a baby—one little fever, and you’re struggling to concentrate on the water before you.

In the reflection of the stream, you catch two red eyes glowing above you, leaning out of a tree to survey your feeble attempts to quench your burning thirst. A hood of midnight and diamond yellow stars surround the visage.

“It’s nothing, Moon,” you whisper to the water. Slowly, you cup your hand and carefully bring it to your lips. The crisp coldness douses your heated lips, filling your mouth with a jolt due to the sharp contrast of cold and fire within you. When you swallow, you shiver.

The softest rustle echoes. A few branches quiver, then, you feel his presence behind you, cool as a tree’s shadow.

A large, blue-gray hand snakes around your forehead. Knuckles press against your temple, and you sigh in relief at his blissful, fresh touch.

“Fever,” Moon rasps, carrying the end of the word with a soft hiss of disdain, as if saying it with a curse will make it no longer reality.

“I just need a drink.” You cup your hand in the lazy flow of water again. “I’m fine.”

“Too warm,” he says when you greedily gulp another mouthful.

Water spills cut down the corners of your mouth. He presses closer to you. His thumb smoothly wipes away the drips falling off of your chin, then he shifts. Your mauve shirt with the sleeves cut off allows his frosty arms to offer a barrier against the next wave of heat crashing against you. He’s never felt so cold before—or have you never felt this feverish before?

“It’ll go away.”

You try to get to your feet but Moon’s hand on your waistline stops you from rising.

“Come here,” he rasps. “Let me see you, orchid.”

You would have given him a look at the pet name, but you don’t have the strength to muster the effort. He eases you back against his chest. His palms slide and cup your shoulders, his sharp fingertips slipping slightly under the frayed edges of your shirt and resting on the end of your collarbone. Is that a shiver from the elicit touch or sickly chills beginning to take hold?

“You’re flushed,” he hisses softly. A slight slip of his tongue, forked at the end, peeks out of his mouth as he leans closer. You moan unwittingly at his cool, flat cheek pressed against your clammy face.

“It was hot today.”

“You’re sick,” he decides.

This time, you groan out of refusal rather than relief.

“I’m not sick.” You slowly shift, managing to get to your knees to face him. The fever forces your shoulders down. You bow under the exhaustion taking hold.

Moon hisses in an amusement yet concerned note. His long tail drapes behind him, cutting across the ground like the connections of a constellation. It’s black in this lowlight, but in the day, when he sleepily shows himself, you’ve caught the iridescent indigo and jeweled blue tones of his beautiful scales.

“If you keep denying it, I will take drastic actions. Do you want that, orchid?” his tone lowers to a menacing threat, all dark cords and hisses, but you’ve learned to tune your senses to his hands and expression. He looks only at you, a slight frown playing along his wide mouth. His eyes are narrowed, displeased with your condition.

“No,” you shake your head, “You and Sun are so dramatic.”

“Says the stubborn flower,” he touches your cheek. You nearly collapse into his palm. The rasp of his laugh stings your pride as much as it soothes your aching chest.

“I’m not a flower,” you mutter as you feel his arms lower slightly, coaxing your hands over his shoulders. He rises higher on his tail, lifting your feet off the ground without effort, and you slump over his shoulder, little more than a child being carried to bed. Moon hums a low, hypnotic sound (that you’re sure is part of his allure, his power).

“Of course not,” he gives with amused demean.

You work up a growl at your throat that sounds weak even to your own ears. Moon shushes you with a soft stroke of his claws against your spine. The shudder that follows through your body is both cold and hot, and you hate that he silences you so simply, and that you like how he strikes back against your harshness.

“Easy, easy,” he murmurs as if calming a tiger. You want to snarl at him again but the brief spark is quickly smothered under an internal infernal cooking your core.

No one agitates you and reassures you as much as Moon.

He glides across the ground to his tree—it’s wide and high, thick with strong boughs and leafy but not too leafy. A perfect tree for a naga. Moon tends to lounge up there when he wants to escape the shadows of the cave you usually make your bed in. You wonder how he intends to hold you through the night up in its verdant limbs, but Moon hooks a hand behind your head and lowers you softly to the cool, moist ground at the base of the trunk.

“Moon?” For a piercing moment, you’re afraid. You refuse to let go of his arm as he draws away. Where is he going?

“Hold still,” he gently hisses.

You let go. You wait for him.

Slowly, his coils gather, curving in loops close to you. He draws himself around you, his long body following. The darkness shimmers. He takes you into his arms once more and guides you to his chest where he fully embraces you. The end of his tail drapes across your waist, sealing you within a deliciously cool embrace of the naga’s scales.

“Shush,” he says when you groan, soaking in his invigorating presence. “Sleep, orchid.”

You almost tell him that you can’t, or that you won’t, but the comfortable weight of his body surrounding you, the chill of his arms against your burning skin, and the soft tuck of his chin upon your sweaty head chases away the last of your resistance. You might have pressed back—saying you don’t need his help, but it’s hard to resist the frost-gentle relief of his presence. It’s hard to be stubborn when he feels so good.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs against your hair. “You’ll feel better soon.”

The sweet caresses of his cool touch across your forehead eases your ache. Against your will, your eyelids flutter. He hums low, a lullaby you can’t name, and it soothes you gently into a dreamless sleep, comforted by a cool cradle of scales and songs.

#i'm burning up with a fever as we speak #i wrote this at like 1 am #because of the fever #if there are any mistakes no you don't see them #cold scales #naga au #naga!moon #moon x reader #naff writing #i'll add this to ao3 later #when i have more energy

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sst0rmm · 1 month

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𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ in the mornings ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ft: rin.

notes: just pure sunshine fluff ✧˖°.

part/series: 1.0 2.0 3.0

wc: 1328

he's doesn't wake you up, and prefers to let you sleep the night away to your heart's content (sleeping makes you happy), and he notices and cares about that.

it's the little things....

rin wakes up early before you. he's always been an early bird, up as soon as the sun rises, and a sleepy saturday is no exception. so you're left to be woken up by the birds chirping and the sun shining and the smell of your favorite food wafting through the open doorway. and you'll get up, slowly walk your way downstairs.

the moment's surprisingly domestic, rin's shirtless and clad in an apron (even though it's a little drafty downstairs), you're in his shirt, and for a second there's nothing but the sound of sizzling bacon reverberating on the walls and making you feel completely at home.

"did you sleep well?" you smile, because you suddenly feel refreshly rejuvenated.

"yeah, i really, really did."

rin is SUCH a sweetheart dasifjsdiofjjjsfdi LMAOO like...

you cannot prove me wrong once he gets to know you he's literally warm and allasdfjdfoi

and his cooking's mad scrumptious i am telling u

breakfast, as usual is warm and lifts you up. down to your veins, the utter core and heart of your being, because you can tell that he made it with love, and that's most important. and once you're done, you make a move to go do the dishes, but he won't let you. (the man's serious, what can i say?)

"i can do it-"

"don't worry," rin pulls you into a swift hug and you're suddenly surrounded by a cocoon of strong, comforting arms, "i got it."

"but you already cooked? we should split-"

rin looks at you fondly, amusement glimmering in teal eyes. it's a look that can stop time, shatter you, and pick you up anew. it's the look of the sunsets you saw together last september, and it's that look of pure adoration and love.

"you should rest," he whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek that leaves your stomach whirling and your nerves dancing alight. "you're worth it."

oh if you only knew HOW BAD i need a rin in my life

we all need a rin tbh because he's sooo sweet and so caring when he's comfy around you

+ a little jelly bcs !!!!

this next scene is utter beauty... you'll see...

waking up is hard when you're utterly entangled in the strong arms of the one you love.

the sun hums softly through the windows, blanketing everything in golden radiance. a clear, blue expanse of sky gazes down at you from above. the clock blinks at you in soft red letters the time (11 P.M.), but neither of you seem to make a move to get up.

it’s the power of a sleepy saturday.

a soft murmur (the doorbell) cuts through your haze of thoughts. “i’ll get it-” rin starts but you push the covers back onto him, pressing him back down onto the soft mattress.

“don’t worry, i got it,” you smile, and he wraps you in a warm hug.

“if you’re gone too long, i’ll miss you!” he calls over your shoulder. you smile back at him. it’s so easy to fall back into that comforting, perfect rhythm, where it’s just the two of you. indelible touches and soft warmth, broken down to sand, it’s just the two of you. against the world, fighting together, the two of you.

your heart blossoms with a warmth that swells from your head down to the very core of your being, and sits happily there, a pleasant, steady heat that makes the silence feel so full.

at your door’s a cute, smiling pizza man.

“delivery for y/n?” he smiles down at you, while holding that cardboard box.

“thanks so much!” you turn to grab your wallet from the counter, and come back right after. the air’s crackling with some unspoken tension, and you feel and hear movement behind you, but you disregard it.

inhaling the aroma of cheesy goodness, you feel oddly refreshed.

the man looks you up and down, and you suddenly realize you’re in a ratty set of pajamas and cross your arms over yourself a little self-consciously.

“the weather’s gorgeous today, isn’t it?” the man smiles and you find it in yourself to smile back. he’s just being nice, you chide yourself.

“yeah-” you start, “it really, really is.”

as you move to swipe your credit card across the gleaming screen of the touchless payment scanner, your feet get caught on the rug and you fall down, down, down…

right into the pizza guy’s arms. as your cheeks color and flame, and you murmur a hasty apology and scramble away, the man smirks.

“fell for me already, didn’t you?”

you wince. he’s cute, with warm eyes and dimples, but he’s no rin itoshi. “actually,” you start, “i’m flattered, but i’m not interested.”

the guy looks at you in surprise. “what, do you have a boyfriend or someth-”

immediately, rin’s presence materializes by you as if summoned. it’s a little uncanny, you think to yourself. and you have to admit, seeing rin stare down his opposition is a sight to see.

it doesn’t help the other guy’s case that rin’s fit as anything, either. just the glare he gives his opponents is enough to make them recoil. he crosses his arms over his broad chest and gives the delivery guy a penetrating stare. (you feel a little bad for this poor pizza man). but also, it fills you with molten heat and just love that rin would even care about these little things.

“yeah,” rin drawls underneath the summer sun, “she does have a boyfriend.” he wraps his bicep around your waist and tugs you close.

“so if i were you,” rin leans in towards the guy and whispers, “i’d probably leave now.”

somehow, the pressured worker manages to keep his wits intact. “you haven’t paid-”

“i’ll handle it, y/n,” rin whispers in your ear and waves you off. as you sit down on your sofa and calm your racing heart, you’re hit with such a wave of emotion that your heart weeps. because you’re rin itoshi’s, and he doesn’t care if the whole world knows it.

rin’s by your side minutes later and he sees your tears. “why’re you crying? is it me- don’t cry because of me-” he hugs you close, and wipes away your tears with gentle fingers.

“i’m not sad, rin,” you smile up at him, “happy tears. happy because you love me, and you don’t care if the whole world knows it-”

“even if you are a jealous-”

he pulls you in close and whispers fiercely. “damn right i’m jealous, because i got the best person in the world right beside me. and i’ll never let you go, and i’ll always love you. let the world say what they want to say, because you’re mine.”

“i love you too, rin-”

and then he pulls you into a searing kiss, embedding himself into your very soul and your entire mind is consumed with just rin itoshi. featherlight touches leave trails of heat down your face, and you breathe a soft sigh.

because rin in the mornings (and any other time) is truly just a sight to behold.

“say it,” rin murmurs and pulls away. you’re both breathing a little heavy and he looks at you with such love and emotion in his eyes that you know what he needs.

“i’m yours.”

the next kiss sends off fireworks in your heart and ignites your world in a blaze of life because you’re rin’s, he’s yours, and the two of you together are unstoppable.

there will be ups and downs. highs of unimaginable greatness and lows and worlds of hurt. but you’ll get through it.

together.

OH MY GOD MWA MWA MWA AHHHHHH

rin is truly the best lover when he's with you, i refuse to believe othwerise.... well i know he''ll prob be AWKWARD and cold at first.. (i'll totally do an arranged marriage sitch on my ao3 oh i love the idea already)

stay tuned for part two (guess which character in comments!!! or request which one im open) i'll link it under the series column when it's rdy ;)

thank u sm for reading, and thank you to @enchanthings for these lovely page dividers. grateful foreva 🫶

(rin pics bcs i love him sm, look at that penetrating stare and bro has hella eyelashes..)

ASJFDSOIF ok THANKS FOR REEADING AGAIN!!

part two is up and linked!!! happy reading :)

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x y/n #rin itoshi x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin

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moonlit-stay · 3 months

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Listen...I've been fighting demons trying not to write about this since I saw it, but how the fuck can I not????

The way we've been fed so, so well with both cellist and swimmer Anton these past couple months?? I'm going insane, someone hold me the FUCK back !!

The thought of swimming with this man makes me wanna gnaw on steel bricks so bad. So, to cope, here's my thoughts

Swimming with Anton was always something you enjoyed. Whether it was a public pool on a summer's day, a hotel pool in the middle of the night, a sunset swim at the beach, or a sunrise swim in a lake, watching him in his element as he does yet another thing that he's absolutely amazing at never failed to make your heart swell with admiration, and your thighs press together from arousal.

However, today, you're sat at the edge of a public pool that Anton somehow managed to get private access to. It was closed when you arrived, the door that held the pool securely on the other side locked tight and Anton watched as you visibly deflated when you realized the situation. He softly smiled at you when you looked up at him, pulling a key out of his bag and swiftly unlocking the door. You looked at him bewildered as he quietly chuckled at your expression, taking your hand in his and pulling you into the room.

Now, here you are, sat at the edge of the pool, your legs swaying back and forth in the water as you take in the sun that gently pours in through the windows that line the wall of the room. You watch Anton swim across the length of the pool, his toned body on full display as he swiftly glides through the water. When he reaches the far end of the pool, he pulls his goggles off his face, setting them off to the side before he runs his hands through his hair. His chest is rising and falling rapidly and you can't help but let your eyes roam down his torso, the way the water beads down his skin and over the ridges of his muscles has your mouth watering.

Anton peers over at you, immediately noticing the look in your eyes as a smile spreads across his beautiful face. You didn't even notice him staring back at you until he started swimming towards you, your gaze moving to his warm, brown orbs that were already staring back at you, mirroring the lust in your eyes. Once he reaches you, his hands come to rest on either side of your hips as he pushes himself out of the water. He's nestled between your parted thighs, his smile still evident on his features as he leans over you, pressing his lips to yours.

You gasp into the kiss when you feel the cold water drip from Anton's body and onto yours, breaking the kiss as a shiver runs up your spine. He giggles in response, settling back into the water and carefully pulling you in with him.

You immediately cling to his body, sharp gasps leaving your lips as your warm body struggles to adapt to the cold water.

"Easy, baby. I've got you." He quietly tells you, holding you close to him as you take deep breaths to steady your breathing as you get used to the temperature.

You feel Anton's hands glide down your sides before he pulls your thighs to wrap around his waist. He reconnects his lips with yours as he walks you back towards the edge of the pool, pressing your back against the wall as a soft gasp leaves your lips. He uses this opportunity to trail kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin as you softly moan out for him.

You can feel his hard length resting against your core, and you involuntary roll your hips against his when he bites down on your sweet spot. A moan slips past his lips in response and he's moving quickly to push his and your own swimwear out of the way so he can push into you.

You still don't know what strings your boyfriend pulled to be able to have this space just for the two of you, but when he thrusts deep into your heat, using the water that encapsulates your joined bodies to bring you down harder on his cock, that thought is the last thing on your mind.

@bearbeom it's after midnight and I'm going insane...

#moon's multi rants <8 #riize #riize smut #riize anton smut #riize anton

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jinkicake · 1 year

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I just went nuts reading all your arranged marriage tropes, they're so fucking good!! Would you ever write one for Xiao?

Forced / Arranged Marriage Trope

Xiao x Reader

A/N: OMGG Thank you!!!!! I'm glad you like them hehe,, YES I WOULD!!! I did write one for Xiao and here it is as a 'happy birthday xiao' post!!! He's my special triple-crowned ray of sunshine!!!!

WC - 1,313

~~~

“I’m going to the harbor today-” With half of your body out the front door, it completely shocks you to see the yaksha teleport from his place at the table to stand in front of you outside.

“No.” The firm rebuttal is all Xiao settles for and he can tell that it doesn’t satisfy you in the least.

“No?” You push back, purposely closing the front door behind you as you step outside with your husband. Now, you’re almost entirely pressed up against his chest and pinned back against the wooden door. Deep down, you wish this had some effect on him but you know it does not.

In the handful of months you have been married to the immortal, you’ve discovered just how reserved he is. Xiao never lets his guard down around you, never lets himself falter in any sense of the way. He always appears to be looking past you instead of at you.

“I’m busy today,” His voice is soft, almost too quiet as it barely reaches your ears.

“I can find my own way there. I’ve done it before,” Your attempt at offering him a reassuring smile is pathetic, your lips quiver into a frown. “I will be back before sunset.”

“Sunset,” Xiao repeats and you watch as he glances up at the sun rising into the sky. By your own guess, you still have over half a day until the sun descends once again. He looks confused with the idea and internally thinks about it as his brows furrow together.

Patiently you wait until he steps to the side, moving out of your way.

You nearly cheer at the victory and skip all the way to the harbor.

“Wait.” Xiao tightly grabs your wrist, underneath the fabric of your loose top. The feeling of his gloved hand against your bare skin is hot, it practically burns you. Your husband hands you your basket with a remorseful look toward the ground.

You’re used to Xiao always looking like that, pitiful.

Regardless, you brave him one more reassuring smile (one he does not look at) before walking in the direction of the harbor. A path that you follow every month and safely execute every single time.

It’s a shame that today of all days, a group of hilichurls decided to camp on that path.

You meant to go around them and walk a different way home but, you were spotted before you could think. All you can remember is the handful of monsters running towards you, knocking you to the ground as your basket fell with a thump. All of its contents now spilled. The way that you landed was wrong and your ability to stay calm is nowhere to be seen. It’s embarrassing how quickly you give in to your husband’s demands of reaching out to him.

You can’t stop the way your heart yearns for him.

“Xiao,” Your call for the yaksha leaves your lips as a whisper, barely louder than the breeze rustling through the leaves. Still, it’s loud enough for the adeptus to hear and he appears before you within a second. You barely have time to blink but, there he is.

Xiao quickly looks around at the hilichurls surrounding you, his eyes zone in on the way you’re clutching your ankle. Anything after that fades into darkness as the edges of his vision turn white.

You watch, speechless, as his spear appears out of thin air and a heavy mask covers his face. Plunge after plunge, spears spurt out of the ground and knock the various monsters off of their feet. Horror starts to wash over you as you notice them falling limp to the ground but even then they’re still not safe from your husband’s wrath. Back and forth, he darts between their bodies and pierces them through his jade spear. Only when his anger is satiated, he finally stops.

Xiao’s chest rises and falls quickly, sucking in short breaths as he surveys the rest of the area around the two of you. He grimaces at the scene.

Your husband takes a step toward you, every fiber of his being begs to be near you but he doesn’t give in to that desire. Xiao spins on his heels and turns away from you, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he begins to walk further away. He can’t be around you like this, with the weight of his sins dragging him lower to the ground with each step that he takes.

You watch him pace quietly, you watch in silence. Never did you imagine that the adeptus cared for you so strongly, for him to lose control of himself in a fight like that. Calling what you saw a 'fight’ is an understatement. It was entirely one-sided, the hilichurls who made the grave mistake of passing you never stood a chance.

“Xiao,” You call out to him again and this time, your voice is louder than before. His pacing comes to an abrupt stop and he’s in front of you before you can even process it. The spear falls to the ground beside you as his hands go to grab your face. Unlike his earlier movements, his touch is now gentle. Xiao is entirely soft with you as he runs his hands down to your shoulders, cupping your bicep, before landing on your swollen ankle.

The grimace on his face only grows harder, eyebrows furrowed in worry as his lips press into a hard line. Before he gets the chance to apologize, you stop him.

“It’s okay, please don’t worry,” You’re wrong to ask this of him. How can he not worry about you? If only his friends could see him now.

The conqueror of demons bewitched by a mere mortal, a simple human. What would they think?

Xiao doesn’t care, he never would as he gently knocks his forehead against your own, his focus entirely on you.

It seems you don't understand him at all as you stare at him now. His breathing is still quick, chest rising up and down with each inhale.

"It's alright," You softly hover your hands over his wrists before wrapping your fingers around the limb. "I'm sorry for worrying you." Xiao looks as if he winces at your words, nose slightly twitching before his expression falls flat again. You're used to this emotionless look.

But, his eyes now seem softer. His eyes hold emotion that you didn't even know was possible. Genuine care, worry, it's all there. Who knew all you had to do was stare at him to understand his feelings?

"Be more careful next time," He tries to come off as harsh, words slightly nipping at your cheeks but you fight it off with a small smile. The tight hold he still has on you and the feeling of his close proximity make it hard to take his lecturing seriously. "I want you to stay safe."

If you could kiss him you would, you could easily do it right now. All it would take to complete the action would be a slight tilt of your head but, you refuse to take advantage of the situation. With Xiao still winded, you don't want to catch him off guard. But, that doesn't stop you from brushing your lips against his cheek. It's an innocent gesture that immediately makes his cheeks turn bright red as a blush dusts over his skin.

Xiao's eyebrows furrow together as he stares at you and he almost looks as if he is trying to shrink in on himself while he tries to fight off the blush. He heavily contemplates his next words before shyly looking at you, except, there is nothing that resembles timidness in his eyes.

It's entirely hunger and with a soft voice, he calls out to you (pleads with you).

"Do that again."

#xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x you #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #genshin xiao x reader #arranged marriage #lol #part 5?

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 7 months

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Prettier With You - Lando Norris

It was another early morning that you were going to spend by yourself. Race weekends were simultaneously your favourite days as well as your worst. You got to see Lando doing what he did best, but it also meant he was away from home.

This was one of the weekends that you weren't able to join him in the wonderous country he was racing in. As you did every morning (every evening for Lando), you rolled out of bed and sat on the balcony.

You could see the sun just poking over the horizon, the orange glow that followed was drifting up into the sky like a haze. You took a moment to take it in, before you pulled your phone out of your pocket and found Lando's contact, which was at the top of your 'last dialled' list.

After a few shrill rings, you were met with a "Hey, baby. How are you doing?" from the love of your life. "I'm good, I'm good. The sun rise is really pretty over here," you smiled, looking to the side as if he were sat right next to you.

"The sunset is really pretty over here," he told you, the thought that you were both looking at the exact same scene, thousands of miles apart made his heart flutter. Even if you weren't with him, there was always a piece of you with him wherever he went.

"The sky is all orange, and it's like it's glowing," you told him, your hand tracing mindless circles on your thigh like Lando would normally do. "It's just like that here, the view from my room is great. Not quite the same as from our balcony, but it's still nice," he nodded.

Instinctively, he turned to his side, the empty space forming into you, the sun glowing golden on your face and highlighting your features. It was at this point you'd normally lean into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing your head.

He loved the way the light kissed your skin, lighting your face up and your eyes were practically illuminated. "Hey, you there?" you asked after not receiving a response from him to an earlier statement. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking," he chuckled.

"About what?" you queried.

"I just wish you were here, with me, and we could watch the sunset together. Or the sunrise, either is fine," he sighed, leaning against the rails of the balcony outside his hotel room. You felt the same, longing to be with him. "When you get home, we can get up every morning and stay up every night to see it,"

"Yeah, I like that idea," he said, and both of you fell quiet as both of your eyes settled back on the sun. A lot of people like to think that they could see the moon at the same time when they were apart, both of them sitting under the same starry sky.

For the two of you, you liked knowing that you were both lit up by the same beacon of vermillion in the sky, its rays of warmth wrapping you up and smothering you when the other couldn't. "You know, this is really pretty, but it'd be prettier with you," he broke the short silence.

"Mhm," you managed to hum out, his comment making tears prick at the back of your eyes. It hit something in your heart, something that triggered a great feeling of loneliness and melancholy. You were used to him being gone a lot, but you just missed him that extra bit more right now.

This was one of those times you were supposed to spend together, not thousands of miles apart. The chair next to you was empty, when it was supposed to be filled. His side of the bed was vacant, when it was supposed to be slept in. Your hand was left loose, when it was supposed to be held.

"You OK?" he asked, his tone turning concerned.

"Yeah, course. I'm fine," you said, your voice cracking slightly as you wiped away the tears that had started to slip down your cheeks. "Baby, come on, what's wrong. There's no point in lying to me," he said, and you sighed in defeat.

"I just-" you started, as a higher volume of tears fell from your eyes, "I just really miss you. I mean, I always miss you, but right now I really miss you," you sniffled, trying to ignore the burn in your throat.

"Please don't cry, baby, I know, it's hard. I wish you could come everywhere with me," he said to you, trying to hold the tears back too. If he could have gotten on a plane and flown home to you right then and there, then he would have. "I will be home in two days, that's all we have to wait," he said, trying to make you feel better.

"But I want you now..." you whispered, so quietly he had to stop breathing to hear it. Your voice was delicate as a feather, light enough to be dropped with one blow. "I know, I get it. I want you now as well," he said, pulling his phone back from his ear to see you as his home screen.

It was a picture he had taken the first time you had watched the sunset together. You were coloured in crimson, and it was a candid shot of you laughing at something he had said. He could hear your giggles, and he could feel your presence beside him.

He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured you there, hearing the sweet sounds of your voice reverberating around the space. For that moment, the world was at peace. Nothing could possibly interrupt the heavenly bliss of the daydream he was having.

You were both at home, and you had each other. "I guess we just have to wait," you sniffled, staring as the sun was nearly fully over the horizon. "I guess we do," he agreed, watching as the last remnants of light disappeared over the skyline, the moon taking its place as the light in the sky.

It was day and night, sun and moon, light and dark. Two opposites that perfectly attracted one another. Two stark differences that were magnetically drawn to the other. But that wasn't how it was supposed to be.

It was meant to be the sun and the clouds, or the moon and the stars. One or the other. Not both. "I love you Lando, you know that?" you asked, your aching heart needing to hear it as if it were a painkiller that could temporarily soothe the pain.

"I know baby, I love you too," he smiled, a few tears slipping onto his cheeks. It wouldn't be so long until you saw each other, but every second that ticked by made the wait more agonizing.

A/N - So, thank you to the lovely @pinkswaet for the idea, I really appreciate it! At the moment, I am working on all of my requests and part 2s that I have promised you at some point, so then I don't have any loose ends and can carry on posting new stuff without stressing about the old stuff. If you have any requests, please do submit them, they are my favourite things to write. If you have already made a request, it is on the way! Love you all 💖💖

|masterlist|

#f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #fluff #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagines #lando norris fluff #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x y/n #lando norris x y/n

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itzjaza · 7 months

Note

TAZ SKYLAR HUSBAND HC RAHHH🔥🔥🔥

OMG THANKS FOR THE IDEA POOKIE!!!!!!!

Taz Skylar as Your Husband:

The proposal: Taz had been planning this for weeks. He wanted it to be perfect. He made Emily take y/n out for a girl's day so that he could prepare everything. He cooked her favorite meal, prepped their outfits for tonight, and bought her favorite champagne. When y/n got back it was safe to say she was surprised. After dinner, Taz took Y/n out on a walk at the beach to watch the sunset. As they walked along the sand, Taz took Y/n's hand in his and stopped in his tracks. "I can't imagine a life without you," Taz said, looking deeply into her eyes. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" y/n's eyes filled with tears of happiness. She had been waiting for this moment for so long. "Yes, Taz!" she said, smiling widely. Taz reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful engagement ring. He placed it on her finger, and they embraced each other in a tight hug. As the sun set over the ocean, Taz and then pulled her into a kiss that was ruined by their friends knocking them down onto the sand for a hug.

The wedding day: It was a beautiful day in the city, and y/n was getting ready for her big day. She was nervous and excited, but she knew that Taz was the one for her. Taz was waiting outside the church, looking handsome in his suit. As y/n approached him, he took her hand and greeted her with a smile. The ceremony was simple and elegant, and it was clear that Taz and Y/n were both over the moon with happiness. At the end of the ceremony, they exchanged their vows and said "I do". The reception was full of love and laughter, and all of their friends and family were there to share in their joy. As the night came to an end, Taz and y/n said goodbye to their guests and headed off to their honeymoon. It was the most perfect day of their lives, and they couldn't wait to start their life together as husband and wife.

The honeymoon: y/n and Taz went on an amazing honeymoon to a remote island in the Caribbean. They stayed in a beautiful resort surrounded by palm trees and white sand beaches. Taz was the perfect husband, and he treated her like a princess every day. Every morning, they woke up early to watch the sun rise over the ocean. Then they headed out on boats to explore the surrounding coral reefs. Taz showed y/n how to snorkel and they saw all kinds of colorful fish. In the afternoons, they lay out on the beach and relaxed in the sun. They talked about everything and nothing, and y/n felt more in love with Taz with each passing day. At night, they went out for delicious dinners. Taz was a great cook and he would make y/n her favorite dishes. Then they danced beneath the stars to the music of a live band. It was safe to say that y/n's and Taz's honeymoon was the most magical, romantic time of their lives. They returned home with incredible memories and a new level of love and connection.

How he would be as a husband: Taz would be a wonderful husband. He would be selfless, caring, and dedicated to making his wife happy. He would always put her needs first, and would be there to support her through thick and thin. He would be a great provider, and he would always go out of his way to make sure she felt loved and cared for. Taz would be a great conversationalist, and he would always make her laugh with his charming wit. He would be a great listener, and he would always be there to lend an ear when she needed to vent. In short, Taz would be a husband any woman would be lucky to have.

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #live action sanji #taz skylar #taz skylar x reader

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 2 months

Text

good days [i.engen x reader]

prompt: moving on from someone you loved after they hurt you is hard, but you do it anyways.

author notes: part three and technically the last part finally! i have been so busy lately which was so annoying, but i can now sit down and write long form fics so yippie for me. enjoy it everyone!

part one: nights like this part two: could've been

GOOD DAY IN MY MIND, SAFE TO

TAKE A STEP OUT

GET SOME AIR NOW, LET YOUR EDGE OUT

TOO SOON, I SPOKE, YOU BE

HEAVY ON MY MIND

CAN YOU GET THE HECK OUT?

I NEED REST NOW, GOT ME BUMMED OUT

YOU SO, YOU SO, YOU, BABY, BABY, BABE

I'VE BEEN ON MY EMPTY MIND SHIT

the moment you landed in san diego and got into your apartment, you cried. relief and guilt washes over you as you sit on the floor (in your haste to leave, you didn't furnish the place just yet). you finally did the one thing you never thought you would be able to pull off; leaving ingrid. the weight of her lies are now off your back, but now a different weight sits there now. how could you? how could you just up and leave her with no warning. deep down you know you don't owe her anything after all the bullshit she pulled, but it's hard to think about that when you leave someone you love so deeply. it feels like you dumped her even though you two were hardly together.

ingrid's guilt tripping really has done a number on you. it's funny really, you always was the one telling her to go to therapy and now you definitely need it. maybe if you left sooner, you wouldn't be looking at different therapists in the san diego area. none look appealing to you or maybe it's just the refusal in your mind to be grouped into any type of group as your ex. it was always ingrid needs therapy, not you. now you realize having her around has impacted your mental way more than you thought. moving on is going to be a mess.

you decide to push away all these messy thoughts as you slip on your jacket; having never taken off your clothes or shoes. getting some air and looking at the new city you will be living in for an indefinite period of time is better than trying to fight against the emotions floating around your mind.

it's windy today, your hair flies around a bit as the wind hits you. the slight chill of it makes you shiver, but it's refreshing. ingrid is still weighing in on your mind as you walk around. heading to the park near your apartment building.

how was she feeling right now? what was she doing right now? has she already tried to reach you?

all these questions make you feel a bit lightheaded. how you wish you could just turn off your mind for an hour or two; get a break away from the anxiety that ingrid gifted you. it can't be helped really. you love her and that won't change for a while. you refuse to make yourself move on faster just because the relationship was a bunch of nothing; the right to dwell or not belongs to you. nobody else can dictate if you should do it faster or slower. not even the words of ingrid in your head that you can imagine her saying.

why would you do this to me?

don't you love me?

you threw everything away..

that's the ingrid that exists in your mind. all her bad moments cloud over the happy ones. you wish it was different, but it isn't.

your lips curl up into a small smile as you look at the sunset. it's beautiful with the sky being a mix of orange, pink, and blue. you use to call ingrid your sunset because just like the sunset she's gorgeous, but is only there for a bit before leaving completely. it was an endearing nickname based off feelings of annoyance and love.

this time around, the sunset is not about ingrid to you. it's about this moment. you have finally left her for good and once that sun sets fully and the moon rises, you promise to yourself to close this chapter of your life. your focus is on taking care of yourself and moving on at your pace.

once you circle back around and reach your apartment, the sun has already set. your head is feeling more empty than from before you left. is this dissociation? or is this just the feelings leaving you right now? you don't really care about it at the moment as you slip off your shoes and jacket. going into your bedroom to go lay on one of the only pieces of furniture in your apartment.

no sheets (you have to go shopping tomorrow), just a pillow. just like the blank mattress, your life is now a blank canvas for you to paint any way you want. how freeing is that.

I TRY TO KEEP FROM LOSIN'

THE REST OF ME

I WORRY I WASTED THE BEST

OF ME ON YOU, BABY

YOU DON'T CARE

SAID, NOT TRYA BE A NUISANCE,

IT'S JUST URGENT

TRYA MAKE SENSE OF LOOSE CHANGE

GOT ME A WAR IN MY MIND

GOTTA LET GO OF WEIGHT, CAN'T

KEEP WHAT'S HOLDING ME

CHOOSE TO WATCH

WHILE THE WORLD BREAK UP

AND FALL ON ME

you have a long list of worries that you carry with you throughout the day; when are you going to finally set up a therapy appointment? when is the next time you're going to see ingrid? have you lost your mind? are you ruined forever?

before you ever got involved with ingrid, you never thought about these things. it wasn't until she started to treat you like shit that all these thoughts started to invade your mind. you hate her. that you know for certain.

the fear of being forever ruined makes you contact a therapist in your area and make an appointment. refusing to be stuck in a pitiful, constantly thinking about your ex state.

you are tired of letting yourself down again and again. the mistake of not leaving ingrid the moment she showed how toxic she could be was the first of many, but now it's different. you have to do this; get some help so all these feelings can be let out somewhere.

you deserve this; this is the start of your new beginning. it won't be tainted by ingrid this time, this is all about you.

the first therapy session was exhausting. not because your therapist, ms. wright, wasn't great. the complete opposite. she was so good that suddenly all the emotions that have been building up inside of you spilled out the moment she asked what's wrong?

the internal desire to just not tell anything and be difficult was strong; a bad habit you have to shake. it's hard when in the past every time you bought up an issue to ingrid she would dismiss and deflect from it, so you just stopped trying. now you have to learn how to communicate your feelings in a healthy manner again. that they aren't miniscule, but important aspects of your being.

in the first session it's a lot of crying and not being able to say what you wanted because the words wouldn't flow out of your mouth. but still ms. wright listens and takes in every word and lets you go at your pace; this is all about you and she lets you know it.

you leave out of the modern styled clinic building with a different feeling from before. the lack of emotional weight is so freeing you want to cry again, but you have already cried enough so no tears come out as you get into your car. still there is a fight within your mind as you drive that distracts you slightly. half of your mind is still feeling guilty for just up and leaving ingrid. the other half is reminding you that she technically left you first and not once, but over and over again. why are you expected to stay, but she is free to run away from you at any moment?

you reach your apartment building after a few minutes, pulling into the parking lot. the light breeze of the san diego evening makes you smile as you get out of the vehicle. walking into the building with a small smile on your face.

healing will be a long process, but you are willing to do it. you have already taken the first step, more than ingrid has ever done for you, so it's a start. the moment your head hits the pillow you're out. for the first time in months you sleep peacefully.

ALL THE WHILE, I'LL AWAIT MY

ARMORED FATE WITH A SMILE

STILL WANNA TRY, STILL BELIEVE

IN (GOOD DAYS)

GOOD DAYS, ALWAYS (GOOD DAYS)

ALWAYS INSIDE (ALWAYS IN MY MIND,

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND)

GOOD DAY LIVING IN MY MIND

TELL ME I'M NOT MY FEARS, MY LIMITATIONS

I DISAPPEAR, IF YOU LET ME

FEELING LIKE (ON YOUR OWN)

FEELING LIKE JERICHO

FEELING LIKE JOB WHEN HE LOSE HIS SHIT

GOTTA HOLD MY OWN, MY CROSS TO BEAR ALONE, I

OOH, PAID A DEAL, WAY TO KILL THE MOOD

KNOW YOU LIKE THAT SHIT, YEAH, GROOVY BABY, BABY

HEAVY ON MY EMPTY MIND SHIT

you constantly have to remind yourself that healing is a process. one that takes time, energy, and willingness. that's so hard to remember on the nights where the only image in your mind is of ingrid every time she left you to dry. the endless times she refused to make you two's relationship work, the fear that always lingers in her eyes when you would open your apartment door to let her inside. the norwegian's biggest fear was someone "catching" you two. whatever that means because at the end of the day what you two were wasn't illegal. she just made it seem like it was. perhaps for ingrid, in her mind for herself, something like that is wrong; is illegal. in the court of the public, it was worthy of punishment is probably what she thought whenever you two kissed. whenever you two cuddled. whenever you two acted like any other couple, was ingrid worrying about how it would look to others?

oh, god and every word she has spoken to you is imprinted into your mind at this point.

you know i can't

if you loved me, you would wait

i swear i love you but i just can't..

ingrid always had a thousand excuses and a thousand more lies to cover up all her problems. it didn't matter if her actions heavily affected you because it was all about her and what she feared and what she needed. what about you? you weren't a fucking robot. fears and worries clung to your conscience too. there were needs that needed to be taken care of too. but did you run and deflect at every turn? no, you wanted to sit down and talk them out like a normal couple would. too bad nothing about you two's arrangement was normal. sneaking around like romeo and juliet wasn't as thrilling as it sounded. and just like those two, you two's story ended in death. ingrid was the first to stab it and you were the one to send another stab straight into it's heart. ripping it apart into shreds until it was unreadable.

however, those nights were just moments in your new life where the past got the better of you; and that's all they would be, moments. those haunting thoughts don't push you into a corner anymore like before. outside of therapy and those late nights, ingrid is the last thing in your mind.

being around your teammates at san diego wave lightens up your day so much. a group of goofballs who refuse to let you be sad for even a second. the times after practice when you all just decide to go to dinner make all the worry in your body leave. transferring from barcelona was possibly the best decision ever for you.

you would have probably isolated yourself back in spain, not wanting to be around ingrid anymore than you have to be.

outside of your teammates, there was something else making the move to the wave worth it; someone else. a pretty journalist who you met at an interview. she wasn't even the one who was interviewing you.

you have bumped into her while looking for the bathroom. saying a quick apology after realizing you bumped into a really pretty woman. she gives you a warm smile, "it's fine" comes from her lips. why do her words sound so satisfying? before you could completely gay panic, you excused yourself and eventually found the bathroom. suddenly feeling too shy to ask that pretty brunette about where to find it.

you thought that would be the end of it. one small interaction that you forget about after a while, but no. the universe for some reason was pushing you and this woman together. she became a regular journalist for the san diego wave. you come to find out her name is julianna; how gorgeous. even when you kept seeing her around, the reminder that you needed to heal and work on your trust issues was constant in the back of your mind. but you couldn't really help it, could you? eventually you started to spend more and more time around her whenever she came around to training or at games. being the first to volunteer for an interview after a good match. it was honestly sorta embarrassing; why were you feeling all giddy like a teenager again? still julianna was still so pretty and kind and many other positive adjectives that you could think of. the woman spoke with such a tone like she was deeply interested in whoever she was talking to. strong eye contact and always having something to say that would lead the conversation to be more interesting.

soon enough the time spent around her bled into spending time outside of soccer. you took the first step one day after asking her out for coffee after a short interview. julianna laughed softly as she asked, "is this a date?" the bashful smile on your lips answered her question. she said yes; leading to one of the best dates you have ever had.

you two spent a good hour at a cafe just talking. getting to know each other outside of y'all's work personalities. the conversation was so good, you two didn't want to end so julianna suggested going to a nearby board walk; and that's exactly what you two did.

sitting beside each other on a bench on the boardwalk, overlooking the ocean. talking for hours until the sun set. it took all the resolve inside of you to not invite her over to your place. you didn't want the date to end, but that was okay as you weren't going to let it be the last.

after dropping off julianna off at her house you headed back to your apartment. a light feeling in your chest as you changed into your pajamas before laying on the couch to find a show to watch. the moments from the date replaying in your mind. you couldn't believe you have been missing out on stuff like this for so long. with ingrid a simple date like that would have never happened. it was too risky because "what if someone sees us" was always her answer whenever you asked to go anywhere outside of your or her's apartment.

it seems like it will be another one of those nights where you think about ingrid. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you reminisce. nothing could ruin how good your day was, but these thoughts were definitely darkening it. you remember the first time you built up the courage to ask ingrid out on a date.

it was around new years, spain was electric with celebration. this was around the early stages of the relationship and still you two have never been out on a proper date; and that bothered you.

you thought it was just because of the busy schedule you both had. being too tired to do anything else but a few cuddles before bed or a hug after practice before going to your two separate apartments. so as you sit next to ingrid on your couch, cuddling up to her, you ask her; "shouldn't we go for dinner. to celebrate the new year?"

the way ingrid tensed up didn't go unnoticed. you look at her confused as she says, "how about we just stay in and cook? that's more romantic, right?" the words sounded forced like that option wasn't even that appealing in all honesty. just a cover up, so she didn't have to say what she actually wanted which was no.

that moment was one that stuck with you throughout the relationship. every lie, broken promise, and lack of attention weighed heavily on you. that should have been the first sign that ingrid was ready to be in a relationship with you, but no. out of pure blind love you moved past that and agreed.

now the fear that julianna might be the same way settles in your mind. she might not have said no to a date, but what about bigger commitments? would she run just like ingrid has.

a string of anger hangs in your heart; this is so unfair. even with ingrid not around she ruins your day in a way only she can. it was fucking frustrating, you wish you didn't have to deal with all the left over baggage she left you.

an annoyed sigh leaves your lips as the sound of all american plays in the background. you decide to push your feelings away and to just indulge in a night full of watching a meaningless tv show; wanting to get annoyed at the problems in the characters lives, not your own.

and that's exactly what you did. watching random shows back to back until you drifted off to sleep.

I GOTTA KEEP FROM LOSIN'

THE REST OF ME (LOSIN' THE REST OF ME)

STILL WORRY THAT I WASTED

THE BEST OF ME ON YOU, BABE

YOU DON'T CARE

SAID, NOT TRYNA BE A NUISANCE,

IT'S JUST URGENT (IT'S URGENT)

TRYNA MAKE SENSE OF LOOSE CHANGE

GOT ME A WAR IN MY MIND (MY MIND)

GOTTA LET GO OF WEIGHT,

CAN'T KEEP WHAT'S HOLDING ME

CHOOSE TO WATCH

WHILE THE WORLD BREAK UP AND FALL ON ME

ALL THE WHILE, I'LL AWAIT MY

ARMORED FATE WITH A SMILE

STILL WANNA TRY, STILL BELIEVE IN

(GOOD DAYS, GOOD DAYS ON MY MIND)

GOOD DAYS (GOOD DAYS ON MY MIND)

ALWAYS SUNNY INSIDE (ALWAYS IN

MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND)

GOOD DAY LIVING IN MY MIND

therapy was getting better. ms. wright knew the exact words to say and the exact ways to help you with your mental state. you have started to journal at her request, at first thinking it's slightly childish. writing down all your feelings like some type of diary? you left that in highschool ages ago, but somehow that method still works when it comes to your emotions. whenever your mind felt clouded with ingrid you would write your feelings out.

not only that, but you started to run. outside of your usual workout routine and the training sessions you had as a professional footballer, you never was one to be interested in exercise. most workouts were just ways for you to keep up your physic for games; nothing more. however, running was freeing. not only mentally but physically.

just like how ms. wright has said, mental stress weighs heavily on the body. causing tension and discomfort even though it's all mental. you knew this of course but never wanted to admit how your mental health has been causing your body to feel like it's tight enough to burst at any moment. in your mind it didn't make any sense, but ms. wright reassured you that it was natural. the mind and body are undeniably connected, one will always follow the other. anyways back to running, the feeling of your body being sore as you pant was exhilarating. your chest feeling so light after each run.

you take one in the morning and one at night. making sure not to miss the run at night because that's when your emotions always get the best of you.

not only did you work on finding healthy coping mechanisms to let out your emotions, but you worked on your trust issues.

the process was dreadful.

when people say the path to healing is linear, it's true. some days you felt like you could trust anyone with anything and on others you wished you could isolate yourself from the world so you wouldn't be hurt ever again.

your therapist was there at every step. guiding you and also sometimes letting you figure out some thoughts on your own.

"why do you think i couldn't just, you know, up and leave her?" you asked one day as you sit in front of ms. wright. the tall woman smiles at you. staying silent for a moment before saying, "why do you think so?"

getting a question back for your own questions makes you frown. how were you supposed to know? the whole reason you're in therapy was for your therapist to help you out, not make you figure out issues on your own. that was your mind process at first but after leaving the appointment, you really sorta understood why ms. wright didn't just give you some answer.

there are some things in life that only you know and can answer; this is one of them. you didn't want to sit around or even journal about the why. instead you go for a run. it was around time for your evening run anyways, so why now kill two birds with one stone?

the thoughts flow easily as you step out onto the trail. ready to go down your usual path. the why doesn't come immediately, but you think about your feelings for ingrid again.

it wasn't a lie to say that you loved ingrid. that you were in love with her. why else would you fight for her so badly? not even in just a romantic sense. before you two dated, you were obviously teammates and had a sorta close relationship. hanging out outside of practice with the other barcelona players often. talking about current shows and books that you both liked. it wasn't your fault that you fell in love with the friend version of ingrid. who would have thought she would be so different as a girlfriend?

perhaps that's why you clung on. you hoped, no, begged that that version of ingrid that you knew in the past would come back. that it was deep inside of her and just needed some pulling to come out. you just had to fight for it and throughout all that effort, it would appear. which wasn't true in the slightest. the ingrid from before wasn't the one you knew throughout that time where you two hid and snuck around; you should had known.

well, you just found your why. you smile as you finish your run, turning back around to walk to your car.

did you just realize you were chasing after someone who didn't exist, to you at least, anymore? yeah.

would this realization haunt you for the rest of your life? maybe so..

but still you felt lighter. not just physically, but mentally. the sun looked brighter as it set low in the sky.

god, how gorgeous life is when you aren't chasing after broken dreams. after something that doesn't and will never exist again.

why do you feel so free?

GOTTA GET RIGHT, TRYNA FREE

MY MIND BEFORE THE END OF THE WORLD

I DON'T MISS NO EX, I DON'T MISS NO TEXT

I CHOOSE NOT TO RESPOND

I DON'T REGRET, JUST PRETEND

SHIT NEVER HAPPENED

HALF OF US LAYIN' WASTE TO OUR YOUTH,

IS IN THE PRESENT

HALF OF US CHASIN' FOUNTAINS OF

YOUTH AND IT'S IN THE PRESENT NOW

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND

YOU'VE BEEN MAKING ME FEEL LIKE I'M

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND

you post julianna on your instagram after four months of being together. she has asked you after a nice dinner date that ended in a walk near the beach. you remember feeling so special, like a priority when she pulled you close by the waist. her hand gently caressing the skin that was exposed there. a warm look in her eyes as she smiles at you. "can i be your girlfriend?" the brunette asked. giggling once you just pulled her into a kiss. no words needed.

back to hard launching you two's relationship, it was a whole new feeling. a mix of uncertainty and happiness was floating around in your heart. what if julianna changed her mind? that she didn't want to publicly claim you? that would definitely drive you insane, but it was the complete opposite. julianna was fine with you posting a picture of you two; the picture is from one of the earlier dates y'all went on. you're holding her face as you kiss the tip of her nose. she's smiling, her hands holding onto your waist.

you could finally do normal couple things like post about cute dates and funny off guard photos and walk around in public while holding hands. there was no risk attached to it. no "we can't let them know" coming from julianna. she was happy to hold your hand and give you a small peck on the cheek while out. the lack of shame was refreshing.

the teasing comments from your teammates on how you charmed the team's journalist away were slightly annoying, but it was all in good fun.

life was truly looking up. your therapy sessions were centered around just ingrid based issues anymore, but others you have been needing help with. ms. wright was one stable support pillar in your life who consoled you for everything; especially the pressure from being a footballer in the limelight. san diego was really shaping up to be your home.

the day you heard about ingrid's new relationship was a day that you wish you could forget. it was a late saturday night, you had just got off a facetime call with julianna who was away in france for some press work. scrolling through instagram, seeing a post about ingrid and mapi dating on your feed. it wasn't some speculation post but one that was completely official. a photo that was obviously posted on one of their instagrams.

that single photo almost made you throw your phone against the wall.

after all the fighting and struggle.

all the begging and trying to help her face her fears.

all it took for ingrid to be open was for her to date someone else? that's all it was? so was it really just an "afraid of being open" thing or a you thing?

a sense of anger hits you. the audacity for her to move on after everything she put you through was laughable. of course you didn't expect her to sit around, crying over the relationship forever. that wasn't realistic or healthy, but you just didn't get it.

what was wrong with you? why couldn't she do that for you?

then came the rush of guilt; you had no reason to be angry. you had moved on, so why couldn't she? it was a double standard that you didn't want to touch on.

it took two hours of journaling to get your feelings sorted out. that sense of anger was just from feeling like this whole situation is unfair. ingrid refused to be public with you; claiming to be afraid, but pops out with mapi? you should be happy for her. that obviously means the norwegian went and got help like you always told her to. she had finally faced her fears.

but you are healing, not healed so you allow yourself to fully stick with your emotions. watching trashy rom coms while thinking about that post.

the next day, you slowly but surely got over it. once you talked to julianna in the morning your feelings were quite small about that lil reveal post. who cares if ingrid moves on? you have moved on too! this is for the best, so you shouldn't care so much about it. at least you wouldn't have to see her any time soon.

or so you thought.

you became a puma athlete only recently after your partnership with adidas ended. puma had the bigger offer, so you went ahead and signed the deal. the athletic brand wanted you to come to an event for their new campaign and you obviously didn't refuse. throwing on a gorgeous dress along with having julianna help you do your hair; keep cute giggles still in your mind as you sat at one of the tables in the large room.

there were many other athletes here, not just footballers. some you knew and others you didn't. it was nice to see players you haven't seen in forever. expect for one in particular.

you were daydreaming about what to do when you went back home. already about to grab your phone to text julianna when you looked up and saw her.

ingrid was sitting at a table across from yours; enjoying some pasta. she looked just the same as when you left her. just as pretty. hopefully not as toxic. your eyes must have been burning her hole through her as she finally looks up and sees you. her eyes dilating slightly as you two hold eye contract.

you're the first to break it. not being able to stand looking into her eyes for any longer. those same eyes that always held fear in them were different now. beside the opposite panic in the norwegian's eyes, there was something else. sprinkles of happiness in her eyes. the sound of a chair moving and steps passing your table snap you out of your thoughts.

ingrid was heading towards the bathroom. should you follow her or would that be weird? with how she looked back at you, maybe she had something to say. did you want to listen? you don't know, so you stand up and follow after her. of course letting a few minutes pass before following; no one could know, right?

once you walk into the bathroom you can hear the water running. ingrid is putting some water on her face. you had to say something to get her attention since she definitely didn't think you would go after her.

"i didn't expect to see you again," you say softly. she gives you a glance, obviously about to say something. the surprise that comes into your mind once she starts apologizing is hard hitting. you never thought she would apologize; that wasn't the type of closure you thought you would ever get.

hearing her apologize and put all the blame on her should be satisfying. finally should be sitting in your mind in bold letters, but it wasn't. after all the therapy and finding someone else, an apology wasn't something you wanted anymore.

"i don't forgive you," the words come out of your mouth easily. you never thought you would ever be able to say that to her; in the past you always ran to forgive her and just forget. not this time around. the small disappointment in her eyes makes you almost reconsider, but no. you have a right to not accept an apology. "but i'm glad you got help. finally," you say genuinely.

you two just stare at each other before you turn and leave out of the bathroom. not wanting to deal with the awkward silence anymore.

ingrid has done it; gave you the thing you needed and wanted from her. and you didn't even accept it.

why was that so freeing to do?

the apology wasn't the closure, being able to give ingrid the rejection and disappointment you experienced from her countless times before was the closure.

you're officially over ingrid engen.

#ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso x reader #woso fanfics #norwnt #barcelona femeni

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

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(y/n) sparing Kokushibo's life for him to save her

Pairing: Kokushibo x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Synopsis: You find yourself standing in front of none other than the upper moon one. And while you know your chances are low and that your life might end in the dusk of day, you are able to cage Kokushibo into the upgoing sun. Until his eyes are filled with sorrow, until you make a decicion that might cost your life...

Warnings: this is my first ever Kokushibo fic so please let me know what you think! Like for Yorichii, I inserted a few pics into the fanfic itself so be prepared, angst to fluff, not proofread yet, NO MANGA SPOILERS 🤍

Special thanks to my dear @lavenderdrxp for the request!

The cold air of the night lashes against your sensitive skin without mercy, only warmed by your blood that runs down your frame like rivers. You are so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of your life. Why did you decide on becoming a demon slayer, developing into a quite skilled hashira? Right, because one of them murdered your whole village without blinking, because you wanted to protect humans from their cruel hands.

Your fingers start to tremble uncontrollably while you hold onto your sword for dear life, the handle smeared in crimson. The second you laid your eyes on him, felt his presence, you saw death itself. You’ve never encountered one of the upper moons carefully chosen by Muzan Kibutsuji himself. Until today, you were so keen to win this endless fight, thought you’d stand a chance against the demon king.

“Give up your dreams and die.”

But the man in front of you is the upper moon one. The man in front of you was able to almost kill you with just one skilled slash of his sword. Is this how you’ll die? In a 10-minute fight with a demon? Of course, you always knew your life would end like this. After all, this is the fate of a demon slayer, this is what you chose.

But…you don’t want to die. You want to live a long and healthy life, want to eat mochis until sunset and play cards with your friends.

“I will never give up”, you press out, dashing forward over and over again.

Your body begs you to stop and rest, to let your blade fall and never return to this life. But instead, you stare into his cold eyes, those beautiful colourful orbs that would fascinate you in another situation. How did a man like him end up being such a powerful demon?

“Foolish human. Do you really think you are able to defeat me?”

Your eyes dart up to the sky above. That cursed night that makes it possible for these creatures to walk on earth freely. But that faint shimmer of orange tells you that day will soon arrive, that maybe…

It might be stupid to even consider a win, that you’ll make it out of here alive. But if you are able to entertain him for a couple more minutes and trap him until sunrise, you’d be able to not only escape, but kill him.

Your mind starts to race, eyes scanning his body up and down. He’s quite tall and muscular, it won’t be easy to defeat him without any weapons. No, not even your katana will be enough. But maybe the poison you created with Shinobu-san will be.

“Use this against a demon whenever you feel like you can’t defeat him otherwise. This will make any demon unable to move for at least a few minutes.”

Every demon, she said. Every demon definitely includes the man standing in front of you. But will this be enough, are you actually skilled enough to even hit him? You need to inject the poison into his body, meaning a slice with your poisoned blade would be more than enough.

But that means you have to land a hit.

“You’re a fool if you really think I’ll give up so easily.”

Kokushibo needs to move, needs to end this fight before the sun starts to rise. You’re a hashira, his worst enemy. But instead, he can’t help but stare at you through the darkness of the night. You seem so unbothered by his presence, so confident in your abilities that it simply sweeps him off his feet.

Are you actually dumb enough to underestimate him? No, the fact that you keep your save distance to his sword tells him more than urgently that you know very well who is standing in front of you. No, your firm believe in yourself is enough to make you stand your ground.

And again, you dash towards him, holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. He dodges your attack with ease, slicing through your tender flesh too light to hurt you critically. Oh, he knows all too well that he’s holding back, that you should be dead already. Why is he not able to end this fight, to finally get rid of you? Your eyes seem to gleam in the darkness, light up the word around him. When was the last time he saw the sun? He can’t remember. But your eyes have to be close.

A sudden pain crawling up his back rips him out of his pondering. What was that? Did you manage to hit him, is the sun starting to rise? Slowly he turns around, eyes finding your cramped-up figure on the floor. His flesh starts to heal in an instant, the only hint for your attack being a minor cut in his cloak. Yes, you indeed managed to hit him.

“I thought you are a hashira. Aren’t you aware that as a demon, I’m healing in an instant?”

Your heavy breaths hang in the air between both of you, your blood discolouring the forest ground crimson while your hands dig into the mud. This was all you’ve had left. It has to be enough, the poison has to function. Otherwise…

Your tired eyes dart towards him and the way he slowly approaches you. Will this be your end? Like in slow motion he raises his sword over your head, ready to behead you. At least you did what you could, faced him with everything you’ve head. Becoming a demon slayer meant being ready to give your life sooner or later. You allow your lids to rest, awaiting the bow of his sharp blade in silence. At least your end will be graceful, right?

But instead of his sharp blade, you are greeted by his tall figure crashing into you onto the ground. Is this real? Did the poison work? You force your eyes open, heart almost beating out of your chest when you begin to realize.

You made it. Despite the stinging fact that this man is the upper moon one, you somehow managed to stand up against him and steal his ability to move.

“You…poisoned…me”, he presses out.

What a fool he was for sparing your life when he had the chance to kill you so easily. Now the sun slowly but surely starts to rise, makes his skin burn uncomfortably while his venomous eyes stare right through your soul. You really are a brave one, bright orbs set on him while you free yourself from the pressure of his body above you.

“I did what I have to do. You are my enemy.”

Yes, you have to remind yourself over and over again. It doesn’t matter that his facial features suddenly begin to soften, you really don’t care about the way he stares into the rising sun. No, it doesn’t bother you that he looks almost…hurt.

“I haven’t seen a sunrise for a long time”, he mumbles.

“I love to see the sun rise. There is no better feeling than the first warm rays of the day against bare skin and that striking colours painted in the sky.”

“You look exactly like a woman who adores sunrises”, he comments so tenderly that you rip your gaze away from the orange sky for a second.

“And you look like a man who did as well”, you reply without thinking twice.

In the dim light he looks breathtakingly gorgeous. Yes, there is no doubt that this demon once was a handsome man with the kindest eyes. You hold your breath, the mark engraved into his eye reminding you more than urgently that this man is indeed a powerful demon. You should leave him to the sheer force of the sun, let him burn for all the sins he committed. But instead, a deep grief holds onto your heart tightly.

“I did indeed.”

Is that a tear escaping his eye? No, impossible. No demon you ever encountered cried, regretted his actions. Does he feel the presence of death haunting after him, the way his skin starts to burn under the first rays of sunshine? His forehead starts to redden before catching fire, making a deep whimper escape his lips.

“Do you want to live on?”

What a stupid question to ask, how reckless to even talk to him. Why does your hand cup his cheek all of the sudden, why do you feel sorry for one of the strongest demons in existence?

“Maybe dying in the upgoing sun is more than I am able to ask for”, he speaks out slowly and reserved.

Your mind starts to raise, comes up with a plan more poisonous than anything Shinobu has ever created. This is ridiculous to even think about, you are a demon slayer, a hashira to be exact. The thought alone is ridiculous.

But not ridiculous enough to stop yourself from grabbing him under his armpits and start hovering him into the safety of the thick woods, away from the dangerous rays of sunshine. You feel like fainting, your very own blood following you behind like a trail while you huff in exhaustion. But still, you keep on moving, shield his body from the sun with your blood-soaked coat while all he does is staring at the angelic sky.

This will be the death of you, as soon as he regains the power over his body, he’ll slice you into pieces. Why? Why are you not strong enough to outstand your pity, why weren’t you able to leave him to his fate? Instead, you find yourself hauling him up a pair of stairs leading into an abandoned cottage you’ve known for years. This is your safe place, your retreat from this cruel world.

And this will be the place you lose your life in.

You fall onto the cold wooden floor the second the door behind both of you is closed, your mouth tasting like iron while coughing up blood. You must be severely injured, given the fact how numb your body starts to feel and how your heart seems to beat slower with every passing minute.

Your eyes catch his shadow next to you, how it builds up into its old frightening gloom. The poison must have worn off, gave him back the ability to move freely. You swallow hard, glossy eyes widened in thick horror.

This will be your end.

“Why did you save me?”

His dark voice sends shivers down your spine, the sheer presence of his powers alone while laying on the floor helplessly almost making you lose your composure.

“I don’t know”, you mumble in response, voice nothing more than a fade away whisper.

His heavy yet light footsteps make the floor vibrate underneath his weight when he crosses the room and comes to a stand in front of you. All you can do is stare at his feet next to your head, waiting for your certain death.

“I’m the upper moon one”, he reminds you.

“And I’m…a hashira…”

You feel the wood next to you give in under his weight as he kneels down next to you, six eyes staring at you intensely. Why…why is he still hesitating? It wouldn’t be hard to kill you in the state you are in, even though the sun now almost fully rose. What a victory, killing another hashira off with ease, coming closer to being the strongest.

Kokushibo can’t help but admire you for the way you still carry yourself with so much pride. Despite the fact that you’ll die within an hour if not treated, despite his sheer presence by your side, your eyes still hold contact with his unwavering. Like in trance he leans forward, lets go of the handle of his sword for the first time since forever. As gentle as his hands remember to move, he places them onto your stomach, watches as your eyes fill with dread. Is he even able to use his powers after all this time ignoring them? He has to try.

The room lights up in red as your body seems to burn alive, a silent scream escaping your lips before you are able to stop it. Out of instinct, you grab on of his hands, hold onto it tightly while waiting for the sharp pain haunting down your body.

But nothing happens. No, it almost feels as if…your pain slowly fades away.

“You…You healed me”, you breathe out in utter disbelief, chest rising and falling so sharply that oxygen refuses to fill your lungs.

Your hands wander around your body rapidly, scan every inch of your busted skin to be greeted by nothing.

“You healed me.”

“You saved me”, he replies briefly, hands still pressed onto your stomach ever so slightly.

Time stands still, the only thing you can think about are his eyes. The eyes that were filled with sorrow when staring into certain death, the eyes that roamed around your body to check for your injuries, the eyes that are now locked with yours.

“Thank you.”

“I need to thank you as well”, he answers calmly.

“I-…”

You don’t know what to say. Is all of this just a dream? This creature, this force of a man kneeling next to you is none other than the upper moon one, the most dangerous demon after Muzan Kibusuji himself. But he didn’t kill you. No, in fact he even healed your severe wounds, saved your life instead of sinking his teeth into you.

He spared you.

Your life was saved by a demon.

“Join the demon slayer corps. Come with me.”

Your words leave your mouth faster than you are able to even think, regret immediately washing over you like a wave. What on earth were you just saying?

“Did you forget how I am?”

“In exchange for saving your life”, you continue.

He just stares at you, eyes widen in sheer surprise. He expected everything when he followed your tracks tonight, the mission Muzan Kibutsuji entrusted Kokushibo with still present in his mind. It was fairly simple: Kill the hashira with the bright orbs, the girl on her way to a nearby village flooded by demons.

But now that he’s sitting right next to you, his hands still resting against your stomach, your heartbeat pounding against his palms, he simply can’t imagine to end your life right here and now. No, the urge to brush his fingertips over your cheek just once, to feel the heat of your skin becomes almost unbearable. Is it because of your innocent eyes, because you saved him despite he injured you severely?

“We live in different worlds, (y/n). It is simply impossible for me to be a part of yours.”

Your stomach drops by the way he says your name, breath getting stuck in your throat. You’ve seen countless demons in your life, always hated every single one with all of your heart. But this man showed you his real face, that he is still human after all these years. Maybe there is still hope, maybe turning into a demon doesn’t have to be a death sentence. Maybe…maybe you’ll be able to save Tanjiro Kamado’s sister.

“Promise that we’ll meet each other again. Promise me that you’ll visit me here right here again soon”, you urge.

“I…”

Kokushibo is los at words, lost in your bright orbs, lost in your tenderness. Not so long ago, he was on his way to end your life violently, to kill you and leave with the arrival of the sun. But now he finds himself right by your side, his mind wandering just by the exciting thought of meeting you again.

“I will visit you again”, he finally gives in.

“Good”, you breathe out.

“Now, tell me a little about yourself. After all, we are trapped here until the sun goes down.”

“I don’t enjoy talking that much.”

“Come on…”

-one year later-

Your eyes gleam in the down-going sun, whole body electrified in excitement. Only a few minutes before the sun is gone, only a few minutes until you finally see him again. As much as you adore the play of colours in the sky just before the sun sets, you started to love the tenderness of the night far more.

Because it means he’s able to walk freely, because it means finally seeing him again.

“There you are, sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks already heating up before you even turned around. You wrap your arms around his tall figure in an instant, his thumb gently stroking over your forehead.

"I still despise that scar", he states, eyes lost in your sight.

He was the one who did this to you, the one who almost killed you that night.

“That was long ago, Koku, please don't worry about it. I missed you, where have you been?”

There he stands as charismatic as ever, his sheer presence alone signalling nothing but power. You never fail to notice that he’s around no matter where you are, looking after you while fighting off demons. Oh, how much he hates to hide in the shadow, to keep his affection a secret. But there is no way he’ll allow any other upper moon to harm a single hair on your body, let alone Muzan Kibutsuji himself.

Gently, you wrap your arms around him the way he adores so much, rest your head against his chest while he strokes your hair gently.

“I need to keep you save, I am not risking your life over one meeting, (y/n)”, he explains in all seriousness.

“I’d rather die than not seeing you”, you reply with a grin.

“Don’t say that, (y/n)”, he warns you while wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

Need more? Click here for my Yoriichi x fem!reader fic!

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @snowywhiterose @chosomybeloved3

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letsquestjess · 4 months

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The Bad Batch and Watching a Sunset (TBB x GN!Reader)

Summary: Sunsets can be pretty romantic and the Batch enjoy watching them with you.

Warnings: None. All fluff!

Hunter

Hunter has convinced himself he isn’t much of a romantic, but you know different. Whenever the team finds a safe planet for a few days, he never misses a chance to watch the sunset by your side. With the sun gradually descending, he’ll prepare a dinner outdoors and chat with you, sharing jokes and opinions on trivial topics. Once you’re finished, he will lovingly cradle you in his lap as you watch the day depart.

During one memorable trip, Tech enthused all day about a rare sky phenomenon that graced the planet during sunset once every hundred cycles. Eager to share the experience with you, Hunter set out cushions by the ship, and invited you to join him. With his legs on either side of your hips and his arms tightly wrapped around your middle, you settled to watch the display. The sun set in a blaze of lilac and jade hues, and as the last arc of sunlight slipped below the horizon, the sky burst into a kaleidoscope of colours, translucent waves fluttering like a celestial blanket. In a moment of heightened awareness, Hunter told you to watch and pointed out a cluster of birds just before they emerged from the trees. You jokingly called him a show-off, but you wouldn’t trade being by his side for anything else in the galaxy.

Echo

Echo gets a little fussy when you both watch a sunset, but only because he wants you to be comfortable and most places outside lack suitable seating. When you nestle your head on his shoulder and draw nearer, he eases a bit and relishes the tranquillity of your shared time. You rarely get time to stop and enjoy some peace, so when you do, he savours every moment.

While watching one sunset, Echo recounted what they were like on Kamino. When the rain ceased and the clouds dispersed enough to make out the horizon, it was like watching a ruby drop into the water. Tiny and unimportant to most, but he found solace in it. No matter what happened, suns would always rise and fall and rise again. Rather like him. His peaceful expression captivated you, the lines near his eyes barely creased and the calm in his hazel eyes holding you spellbound. It was a rare sight, and you made a conscious effort to soak in every aspect. When you asked him to tell you more, he vividly recalled the strange weather he had witnessed and the funny situations it had caused, often involving lost brothers and their antics. Cuddling him again, you listened to his tales, the sun long gone and the stars lingering to listen too.

Wrecker

Wrecker is an expert at savouring sunsets and turns them into memorable evenings. He plans everything thoroughly, carefully selecting your favourite snacks and drinks, and arranging a cosy nest of blankets and pillows for the two of you. His primary goal is to lavish you not only with a picturesque scene but also with immense love and adoration that those quiet moments are perfect for.

One evening after an early dinner, Wrecker placed a blindfold over your eyes and carefully led you into the sparse copse close to where you landed. When he removed the fabric, a wave of awe washed over you. Dimmed lanterns gently swung between the boughs. As you approached the bank of the lake, you noticed a delightful arrangement of blankets and cushions, and a food hamper. He had even scattered vibrant petals around the area too. He gently grasped your hand and settled you down, pulling you close as the sun started to descend, all the while whispering words of love in your ear. You both spent the night there, sleeping in each other’s embrace until daylight broke again.

Crosshair

The first time you and Crosshair experienced a sunset together, it happened spontaneously. While hauling supply crates into the ship, you paused for a moment to witness the sky change. Noticing you’d stopped, Crosshair asked what you’d seen, thinking there was danger, but he relaxed a little once you explained you were merely fascinated by the way the sunlight cut through the trees. He couldn’t comprehend why some were so captivated by it, but you seemed to relish it, so he watched a little longer. The sunsets after that, you would sit in solitude, taking in the impressive sight. Eventually Crosshair joined you, secretly revelling in the way his surroundings grew calm. There were no loud noises or screams, or frightful sprints back to the ship. Everything was perfectly quiet.

Seated in a shaded spot and watching the bright star dip one peaceful evening, he began to talk. He knew you were curious about certain parts of his past, and he assured you that you were free to ask whatever you wanted. He’d answer honestly, no detail spared or horror held back. You caught the vulnerability in his voice and didn’t want to pry, but when you glanced up at him, you could see he wanted to tell you; he just needed a bit of prompting. So you asked him everything you had ever wondered, every brief allusion he had ever made to the dark patches in his past. True to his word, he opened up. With each sunset you witnessed together, he would divulge more, disclosing personal details that even his brothers didn’t know about and dismantling the emotional fortress he had built around himself.

Tech

When it comes to Tech, observing a sunset is initially approached as a scientific study. Every planet he visits, he positions himself at the best vantage point, datapad in hand as he records the angle of the descent, the trajectory, the variation in hues, and cross-references it with data from other planets. He will talk while he observes, explaining exactly what he’s doing to fill the silence between you. Your one-sided conversations often end with him rambling for some time, not that you mind. You can see the joy radiating from him as he indulges in it. But there’s a small part of you that wants nothing more than to nestle into his arms and watch it together. Over time, he notices small subtle cues that you aren’t enjoying the sunsets as much as he is, and after confiding in Wrecker, he realises why.

The next sunset was one you wouldn’t forget soon. You joined Tech as usual, plonking yourself down on the makeshift bench as the twin suns chased each other towards the eastern horizon. Fiery hues blended in the middle and the sky and began to burn gold, clouds and birds fleeing the impending night. For the first time since you can remember, Tech was not engrossed in the streams of information filtering through his datapad. In fact, you couldn’t see it anywhere on his person. He encircled his arms around your shoulders and brought you close to him. Instead of offering facts, he commented on the breathtaking beauty of the sunset and how he cherished the opportunity to experience it with you.

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youremyheaven · 25 days

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Shatabhisha & The Rahuvian Urge to Lie

In the light of several of you guys telling me about your experiences with Shatabhisha nakshatra natives who were pathological liars and overall terrible people. I thought I'll do my research 🤪😌and what I found astounded me.

Shatabhisha is ruled by the planet Rahu, which is known for its mysterious and unconventional nature. Rahu is associated with the shadow, the unknown, and the supernatural. In Vedic astrology, Rahu represents desires, ambitions, and illusions. It can bring both good and bad results, depending on its placement and the overall horoscope. Therefore, the lord of Shatabhisha can bring a mix of energies and influences, such as intuition, creativity, eccentricity, and spiritual growth, but also confusion, deception, and hidden enemies.

Shatabhisha is the final concluding Rahuvian nakshatra and I feel like the concluding nak of each planet is the most extreme manifestation of its energies but also the point where it transcends beyond itself.

Shatabhisha is associated with the deity Varuna, the god of cosmic and moral order. Varuna is also linked to water, emphasizing the purification aspect of this nakshatra. The connection with a thousand flowers signifies the blossoming of spiritual potential. Varuna (god of the rains/ cosmic & terrestrial waters, sky and earth). also, the mystical healer and the lord of “maya” or illusions. varuna is also sometimes referred as the “dark sun”, he influences the west direction and is active after sunset.

Given that the deity of Shatabhisha is the Lord of Illusions/Maya and Rahu is itself a shadow planet associated with deception, lies and illusions, its no wonder that these natives are often prone to lying.

Pathological lying is defined as "the compulsive urge to lie about matters big and small, regardless of the situation."

SZA, Shatabhisha Moon, Vishaka Sun is known for being a pathological liar

Here is a video exposing her lies. Tbh SZA lies about things that are so unnecessary and obvious??? she once said that BTS ignored her at an event when there's video proof of them interacting and hugging each other 😭😭She has lied about her real hair, fake freckles, her age, used to say she was a marine biologist, being allergic to fruit & more. It’s mostly little lies that literally don’t even make sense why she is even lying about it.

I feel like being dishonest is a broadly Nodal trait (no offence u guys lmao) and SZA's chart is dominated by Nodal naks. She has Venus in Mula, Mars in Swati, Jupiter in Ardra to make matters worse she has Ketu in Ashlesha (Ashleshas can be hella manipulative) and Vishaka Sun & Mercury (Vishaka is a rakshasa gana nak which means these natives are veryy self serving)

Jameela Jamil, Shatabhisha Sun, Ketu in Swati

Tbh I can't keep track of everything Jameela has lied about because she lies a lot. Here's an article that goes into it. She has a thing for claiming she has suffered from or is currently suffering from a ton of different illnesses (mercury poisoning, celiac disease, a rare tissue disorder, a breast cancer scare, she's deaf in one ear, severe peanut allergy etc) and just a ton of other sketchy stuff in general lol

Halsey, Swati Rising & Mercury (She also has Hasta Sun)

Halsey has always claimed to be half black when in reality she is 1/4th black (her dad is half black), she allegedly suffers from Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, Sjogren's syndrome, Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, POTS etc i don't want to speculate about someone's health but whenever someone talks about having more than 2 serious chronic conditions, it just feels hella sus??? She said she was kicked out of her house as a teenager by her parents but someone who went to highschool with her apparently exposed her saying that wasn't true and that she left on her own to pursue music. Halsey also claimed to have been some sort of edgy misfit outcast in highschool and the same person said she was actually pretty popular and was very good at Art

Victoria Beckham, Venus conjunct Jupiter in Shatabhisha and Ardra Rising

She is certainly not the only one who has tried to convince us that her chest looks the way it does because of a push-up bra. But Victoria Beckham overdid it with her lies. She had been denying for years that she had undergone surgery for a breast augmentation. But then, one sunny day in July 2009, she slipped up. It happened before an L.A. Dodgers baseball game, where Victoria was given the honor of throwing the first pitch. She walks off the field, and says loudly in her mic that she is a bit worried her pitch would displace her implants. Boom! The truth was out! Her D-cups remained intact, but the damage to her reputation was done. Some years later, the former Spice Girls member had a reduction, and she now claims she regrets of having had the surgery in the first place. She also very recently claimed she grew up super working class when its pretty much public knowledge that she's from a vvv wealthy background (her nickname is literally Posh Spice?? like girl???)

Taylor Swift, Ardra Moon, Ketu in Ashlesha

This has turned into one of the biggest social media scandals in Hollywood in the past decade. It all started with the notorious line in Kanye West’s song Famous: ‘I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex/Why? I made that b**ch famous”. Swift’s reaction to these derogatory lyrics was …well… swift and brutal. She complained about being victimized by West and him taking the credit for her success. But then the Invincible Kim took matters into her hands. She broke the internet by posting a Snapchat video of a conversation between Swift and West, in which Swift was saying she had no problem with the lyrics. That was a huge blow as Swift had been whining for weeks about how she had insisted on being “excluded from the narrative.” Sister, if you really wanted to be excluded from the narrative, you should have said that first thing when the rapper called you to ask for your consent!

She also acts like some country gal when her dad is a stockbroker and she grew up on like a 200 acre farm and had her career handed to her lol

I feel like Nodal girlies love to play victim, along with Moon dominants & Ashleshas

Tyga- Ashlesha Moon conjunct Ketu

He grew up in a rich family in LA but claimed to be from the 'hood lol

Robert Pattinson- Ardra Moon

He has admitted that he lies all the time in interviews lol tbh its kinda funny

Here's an article about it. my fav bit is the one time he lied about hating the circus because he saw a clown die as a kid lmfao

Grimes, Shatabhisha Mercury

Grimes lied about throwing a snowball at Queen Elizabeth II's motorcade when she was visiting Vancouver. Somebody pointed out that on that day there was no snow in the city, so it was impossible for her to make a snowball, let alone throw one.

She lies about bizarre things that she doesn't even need to bring up. Like, telling Rolling Stone magazine she had to get over her fears and conceive X by having unprotected sex and letting Elon cum inside her. Later, the Isaacson book proved it was IVF 🤡🤡

She has also been accused of having lied about being homeless in the past

Lana Del Rey- Ardra Sun

There is an old interview with some guy who studied with her and he said she used to lie all the time lol It was really interesting to see someone in her inner circle kinda reflect on that. His name is Ron Pope. He said

“Actually, I knew her in New York many, many years ago, when she was still going by her real name, Lizzy Grant. And I thought that she was endlessly fascinating, because she was always kind of expressing herself by being a character. She would tell you a story and you're like, "I don't think that's true, but I don't care."

Well, after we were introduced, she told me that she grew up in Arkansas in a trailer park, and was raised by her grandmother. But I'd already known that she was from a family of means in New York. So I was just like, "Huh, you don't say, Arkansas, trailer park." But it was like being around a performance artist. It's not like they're a pathological liar or something, they're just a person creating a character.”

Lana lied about her age at the beginning of her career and to this day she says she grew up poor and is "white trash" when she went to a private boarding school as a teenager ???

Lady Gaga, Swati Moon conjunct Ketu

Gaga once told that she was bullied in school to the point of being thrown into a trash can because she was "eccentric and theatrical", when in fact she went to one of the most expensive schools in New York (which makes unlikely that something like this would go that far).

There was a bit that she claimed her aunt possessed her and wrote a poem, which she showed to her fans on live stream; someone googled that poem and found it online.

When Amy Winehouse died, Lady Gaga told a reporter she couldn't speak a thing for 48 hours.

When recording the scene where Maurizio is killed, the only thing that went through her mind was "What did I do?"; also, she claims that she spoke with Italian accent for 6 months after the footage was finished.

Kylie Jenner, Ashlesha Sun, Swati Moon

she lied about not getting plastic surgery for yearssss, claiming she just gained weight or whatever lol

Sara Ali Khan, Ashlesha Sun, Shatabhisha Moon

She's descended from royalty on her father's side, her mother comes from a very influential family, both her parents are successful actors, she went to fkn Columbia University for her undergrad yet she claims to be a "normal middle class girl" and says that she does not pay for mobile roaming cause its too expensive?? 😩😂and she is known for her PR stunts lmao, just a few days ago she was "spotted" helping underprivileged people when its sooo obvious that she called the paps to film her lmfao

Zayn Malik, Shatabhisha Venus & Rising

When Zayn Malik quit One Direction, he claimed it was so that he could shy away from the spotlight and lead a normal life. I don't know about you, but most 22-year-olds aren't releasing solo albums. Considering Malik debuted his first solo track only a week after leaving the band, it appears as though he lied about the reason for leaving. Especially since he's released a lot of solo music. In an interview with Billboard, he came clean about One Direction not being what he expected. So, I guess he just got fed up with the boy band life, huh? He could've just been honest from the beginning, though.

Steve Rannazzisi, Ardra Sun & Moon, Venus in Ashlesha atmakaraka

The League actor Steve Rannazzisi lied about being in the World Trade Center on 9/11. He originally had an elaborate story about that tragic day prompting him to pick up and move to Los Angeles to pursue his comedy dreams. But in September 2015, Rannazzisi said:

I was not at the Trade Center on that day. I don't know why I said this. This was inexcusable. I am truly, truly sorry.

As he says himself, this is a pretty "inexcusable" lie. I will say, though, at least he came clean about it. When it comes to honesty, better late than never.

Galileo Galilei- Shatabhisha Sun, Ashlesha Rising

Galileo was more convinced that Earth revolves around the sun. This led to his trial in 1616. Galileo obeyed the church order to end all discussion on the matter. But after 16 years, he published a book that the Catholic Church could not accept at the time.

I thought I should include him because this is such a huge example of telling the truth?? even at great personal odds?? imagine being the one to stand up to the goddamn church in an era where everyone was convinced the sun revolved around the earth lol??

it goes to show that not everyone with certain placements will turn out to be liars and deceivers.

Kurt Gerstein- Shatabhisha stellium, Saturn, Ketu and Rising

Kurt Gerstein was a deeply contradictory figure, who's life and work bear examination as an example of how a deeply flawed person can still try to do admirable things.

Born to a virulently authoritarian and later aggressively pro-Nazi father, he grew up in strongly ultranationalist circles. At university, at his father's behest, he joined a far right student association/fraternity.

At the same time, he became involved with the Confessing Church, an organisation dedicated to fighting back against Nazi influence in the Protestant churches, who's membership included a number of prominent German resistance figures. He spent a small amount of time in prisons and in camps for distributing anti-Nazi material, but his father's influence allowed him to escape serious punishment.

In 1941, he joined the SS, in his own words "acting as an agent of the Confessing Church." Shortly beforehand he discovered his sister in law had been murdered as part of what we know as Aktion-T4, the genocide of the mentally ill and physically disabled. His plan was to get inside, find whatever evidence of crimes and atrocities he could, and get them published for all the world to see.

Due to his experience in pest control and water purification, he was made head of the subsection of the SS responsible for supplying Zyklon B, an industrial rat poison, to a variety of sites in Poland. When he asked what the obscene quantities of poison gas could possibly be being used for, he was invited to witness the camps himself.

He attempted to tell the world of what he had seen at Belzec and Treblinka, telling a Swedish diplomat, a Swiss diplomat, A Dutch resistance man, and anyone else he could get his hands on, but nobody really took notice.

He spent years trying to get the story out, until in 1945 he surrendered to a French officer, telling him everything in the hope that his testimony could be used to prosecute senior Nazis and camp officials. He was given a hotel room and a typewriter and told to write his report.

After he was done, he was treated as a war criminal and transferred to a military prison where he was found hanged in his cell, likely driven to suicide by what he viewed as the final failure of his task.

After his death, his report has continued to be used as one of the definitive accounts of the Holocaust, being used in the Nuremberg Trials, the Eichmann trial, and the trial of David Irving.

Once again, it is possible to have these placements and still tell the truth and stand up for the truth. our birth chart reveals our natural tendencies, what we must do is rise above them. and contrary to popular belief, we can rise above our nature.

I hope this was interesting xx

#astrology notes #vedic astro notes #sidereal astrology #astrology observations #nakshatras #astrology #vedic astrology #astro observations #astro notes #astroblr #jyotish #rahu #shatabhisha

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hopepetal · 9 months

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Part Eight!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! :)

@applestruda

CW: broken bones and blood

Many thanks to Elle Periwinklemoonlight for giving me several ideas for this chapter, and Mochi for helping me with some of Mumbo's dialogue <3

Mumbo had always liked sunsets.

He'd never been that big a fan of sunrises. Don't get him wrong, they were pretty and all! But the only times he had been awake to see the sun rise at all was when he had been up all night working on some sort of contraption. The early morning light had forced its way through any crack it could find and pulled Mumbo's attention away from his work, alerting him to the fact that he'd lost track of time and was about to have a very bad day.

(Look, his stomach was sensitive! If he didn't get enough sleep, he'd get all nauseous and lose his appetite the next day. One would think that would be enough of a reason to not stay up all night, but there was a difference between being smart and making smart decisions.)

Anyway! Where was he? Oh, right. The sun. Fascinating thing, really. Some might even call it essential! Most people would, actually. Mumbo certainly did.

Sunrises had always been something Mumbo only saw every once in a while, and dreaded every time. The first rays of light peeking over the mountains were a taunting reminder of one's folly. And with the rise of the sun came the song of the birds, declaring in their high pitched tremolo that it was time to wake up and go about one's day.

Scar had asked Grian what the birds were saying once, over their lovely lunch which was actually just breakfast for the late risers. Grian had given him the most deadpan stare Mumbo had ever witnessed (and that was saying something– he'd known Doc, after all). “Just because I'm an avian doesn't mean I can understand the birds, Scar.”

Scar frowned, giving Grian a confused look. “You can't lie to me! I just heard you talking to the chickens, mister.”

Grian's look became much more pointed. “What chickens, Scar?” he asked sweetly, in the tone that held threats hidden under the surface.

Scar's eyes widened almost comically as he immediately tried to backtrack. “Oh! No! Nooo, no chickens here. None at all! What chickens? I've never seen a chicken. Ever.” He looked over at Mumbo, before leaning forward and stage-whispering to Grian, “I think I fooled him.”

Mumbo had chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Scar, I'm sitting right next to you,” he pointed out.

Scar blinked. “Oh. Well! Nonexistent chickens aside, Grian, you still haven't told us what the birds are saying.”

Grian had stared at Scar in silence for a full five seconds before sighing deeply. “They're laughing at me for not getting enough sleep to deal with this.”

“See!” Scar smiled triumphantly, looking over at Mumbo. “I told you he could talk to birds!”

“Pretty sure he's just lying, mate.”

Grian lazily waved his spoon in the air. “I don't know what you're talking about, Mumbo. I never lie.”

Scar's eyes shone. “Now, if my time as a businessman has taught me anything, it's to tell when someone is lying. And that, my dear Grian, was a big ol' lie.”

Grian's eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. “I'm going to bite you.”

“That's a lie!”

Grian then lunged across the table and tackled Scar to the ground. Mumbo shrieked, nearly falling off the bench with them. “Oh, goodness, don’t break the man, G!”

Grian didn’t even have a chance– Scar pinned him to the ground with a triumphant whoop, laughing as Grian squawked and flapped his wings helplessly. “I win! Haha! You are not immune to the good times!”

“What does that even mean?” Grian shot back, unable to stop himself from laughing. “Scar, get off me!”

Scar stood, brushing the dirt off of his pants. “Aww, G, now I’m all dusty! Dusty and sweaty! Eugh!” He moved to take his shirt off, and Grian shrieked.

“Scar!” Grian shot up and smacked Scar’s hand. “Put your clothes back on!”

Scar whined, pouting slightly. “C’mon, G! I didn’t even take anything off”

Mumbo groaned, putting his head in his hands. “I miss Impulse and Pearl.”

Sunsets were different.

Mumbo… didn’t really know how to describe it. In the same kind of way people liked going to bed more than they liked waking up, Mumbo enjoyed sunsets far more than he did sunrises. Sunsets were calm, whereas sunrises were frantic, harried. They were a declaration of the day ending, and that rest would come soon. They were an end to the scorching hot temperatures of the summer and a prelude to the cool kiss of the night’s breeze against his face. Not to get all poetic and everything, but they just were nicer.

He enjoyed how the sky would be painted in oranges and pinks and purples, and how slowly the knights would gather together on the more clear nights to sit under the stars and talk. He enjoyed how in those moments they were all at peace and happy, and how they cared so deeply for each other it felt less like a group of friends and more like…

Family.

That’s what it was.

Sunsets reminded him of family.

Not this sunset, though.

As the sun slowly set, and shadows grew to cover the whole land, Mumbo felt… different. As he rode alongside his fellow knights (his friends, his family), he couldn’t shake the feeling of urgency that usually accompanied the rising of the sun, rather than the fall. This sunset was not something of love and rest.

This sunset felt like a warning.

They were running out of time. As the clock ticked, as the sand fell through the hourglass, a sense of impending doom settled over each one of the knights. Mumbo, in his often anxiety ridden state, was no stranger to the feeling that sat tight in his chest and caused his heart to race, tearing air from his lungs in sharp gasps.

Scar, riding near him, glanced over and saw the poorly concealed panic on the man’s face. Urging his horse closer, he got Mumbo’s attention with a soft ‘psst!’

Mumbo startled, torn from his thoughts as he so often was. He met Scar’s gaze and gave him a nervous, half-hearted smile. Scar could, most likely, see past any pretense he was putting up. The man was good at what he did– good at reading people, good at looking for certain nonverbal clues that cued him into what the person was actually thinking. “Hey, Scar.”

Scar reached out, holding the reins in one hand as he gave Mumbo a pat on the shoulder. “You doin’ good? You’re not looking so hot.”

Mumbo sighed, looking away. “I’m… I dunno, Scar. I just… goodness. This whole thing is so… it’s overwhelming, Scar. What are we even supposed to do?” He laughed, a tense sound. “It’s– it’s just… it’s not something we can just… it’s not simple, Scar. We can’t just solve it with some redstone, or some crazy invention– this is so big. And I don’t– I don’t know how to fix it.”

Scar pressed his lips together into a thin line. The setting sun cast long shadows over his face, the little light remaining creating dappled patterns on his skin as it filtered in through the trees. He thought for a moment before speaking. “Mumbo, you don’t have to know how to fix everything. You know that, right?”

Mumbo let out a strained laugh, his grip on the reins tightening slightly. “Well, Scar, mate, isn’t that kind of… my job? You know, brilliant redstone inventor over here, coming up with solutions is my whole thing. It’s not like I could… well, I have to make up for my lack of physical prowess somehow.”

Scar shook his head, chuckling softly. “Oh, Mumbo, Mumbo, Mumbo. I’ve been there! I get you, I really do. You know, back in the day, I had a bit of a job myself. I was a businessman, Mumbo Jumbo! And a very good one at that. And my job was to sell things to customers! And…” he frowned, cutting himself off sharply. “I don’t know where I’m going with this. Man, Cub’s so much better at this than me.”

Mumbo felt himself relaxing slightly, the tension slowly being let out of his body. He smiled, giving Scar a half-shrug. “Cub has a lot of skill, that’s for sure. Plenty of experience to go along with it, as well.”

Scar nodded, and let silence fall over them for a moment before taking in a deep breath. “So, Mumbo, what I was trying to say… I guess, you don’t need to solve everything? I mean, none of us have any clue what we’re doing. Kinda.” He thought for a moment. “That’s not it. What I’m really trying to say is that we’re all in this together? It’s not your job specifically to figure it out alone. Impulse is our friend, and… we all really care for him.” His voice trembled slightly as he finished, eyes darkening. “I hope he’s safe.”

Mumbo furrowed his brows, concern shining in his eyes as he looked over at Scar. “You doing alright, mate?” This whole thing had been hard on all of them, but something seemed… off… about Scar.

Scar blinked, and shook himself out of whatever sort of trance he had been in with a slight jerk of his head. “Oh! Yes, don’t you worry, mister. I’m doin’ just fine over here! Just thinking about the scolding I’m gonna give Impulse when we get back home.” He flashed Mumbo a bright smile, and Mumbo let it rest.

He knew that smile was forced. He knew when the cheerful persona of Scar’s came out to play. He knew, and yet… what could he do? Mumbo wasn’t good with words. He was probably the worst out of the knights when it came to social interaction, and that was saying something given they were practically hermits outside of the occasional job they’d pick up and shopping trips.

So Mumbo did what he did best.

He let his body go on autopilot, and got lost in his thoughts.

At the front of the group, Grian and Pearl were talking in hushed voices. Grian remained stubbornly in his watcher form, despite Pearl’s insistence on taking a break and letting his eyes rest. He’d given her a look, feathers rustling irritably as she spoke. “Stop nagging me, Pearl. Gosh, you’re starting to sound like Timmy.”

She let out an indignant sound, glaring at him. “I am not! And it’s not nagging, mate, you’re going to give yourself a headache with all that looking!”

Grian scoffed, looking away. “It’s called watching, thank you very much. And you’re the one who’s gonna give me a headache, with all your talking! I know what I’m doing Pearl, I’m not a baby.”

“Well, you’re acting like one,” Pearl shot back. “I’m right here, Griba. You don’t have to be hyper vigilant, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“And what happens if I don’t?” Grian snapped, his voice dropping slightly. “What happens if I lose sight of the demon and Impulse, what if–?” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath, “Pearl, I need this,” he admitted, voice low. “If I don’t keep my focus on this, I think I’ll go crazy, Pearl. I’ll get all… you know me, Pearl.” Desperation seeped into his voice. “I don’t– it doesn’t matter if I get a headache or strain myself or, anything, really! But I can’t…”

Pearl sighed. “I know. I know, Griba. I’m just worried. About you, about Impulse, about this whole Watcher thing, about… well, everything. It’s just such a big mess, y’know? And we’re all tangled up in this big web and…” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s pretty overwhelming. Just… we gotta also take care of ourselves, mate. We won’t be able to do anything if we run ourselves ragged before we even get to Impulse.”

Whatever Grian was going to say in response was interrupted by the sound of rattling bones and an arrow flying right by his head, narrowly missing. He shrieked, wings flaring out as the horse beneath him startled. He grabbed the reins and pulled back, stopping the horse from bolting, though it still took a few steps forward.

“Skeleton!” Pearl called out, though the announcement was unneeded. “Stay on your guard!”

The undead’s bones creaked as it came into view, appearing from under the trees. Normally, along more well-traveled paths, the surrounding areas would be lit up enough to stop the mobs from spawning, and the frequent patrols would be enough to discourage them from wandering too close. Unfortunately for the knights, they were traveling through an uninhabited area with no path in sight. They could handle the mobs just fine, but it certainly made traveling a little more difficult.

Scar drew his crossbow, fingers brushing over the enchantments carved into the material, and nocked a bolt. “I got it!” He drew the bolt back and fired, the skeleton collapsing into a pile of bones with a rattling groan. “Yes! Hotguy strikes again!”

Grian would’ve rolled his eyes if he could. “You and that Hotguy thing, I swear…” His feathers began to settle back down, and he folded his wings behind his back. “Right, then. That’s probably our cue to stop for the night.”

“We’re stopping?” Mumbo asked, slightly confused. “Why?”

Pearl sighed, dismounting. She gently stroked her horse’s neck before answering Mumbo. “As much as we’d love to get to Impulse as soon as possible, we can’t be riding through the night. The horses are tired, and we need time to rest and recuperate as well. I…” She looked over at Grian, watching him dismount as well. “I don’t want to stop. I really don’t. But we have to.”

Scar nodded. “Makes sense! Gotta be our best selves if we’re gonna deal with that demon guy!” He dismounted, Mumbo following a moment later. “Mumbo and I can go light up some of the surrounding area while you two make a fire and deal with the horses?” he suggested.

“Good idea. You have those…” Pearl gestured vaguely with her hand, trying to think of the word. “...magic torches? The fancy ones, so ya don’t burn down the whole forest?”

“I never leave home without them!” Scar grabbed Mumbo’s arm. “Come on, Mumble Jumble, time to light up this forest!”

Mumbo yelped as he got dragged away, casting one last terrified glance at Grian and Pearl before disappearing into the woods with Scar.

“I swear,” Pearl chuckled as she dealt with the horses, “he never loses energy. I’ve rarely ever seen that man get tired.”

Grian busied himself with clearing a small area for a campfire, using his bird-like feet to help dig up the grass. “Scar’s… definitely something,” he agreed, shaking the dirt off his talons before hopping (not walking– hopping) awkwardly over to a tree, his wings flapping slightly to help balance him. He began to snap some smaller branches and twigs, gathering them in his arms. “Dunno what we’d do without him. Without any of them.”

Pearl smiled sadly, giving one of the horses a soft pat before walking over to help Grian with his task. “Barely feels like any time’s passed at all, yeah? Since we first met in that old town.”

Grian laughed at the memory, shaking his head. “You’d just crashed into the ground. Still had no clue how to use those wings of yours.” He glanced at the colourful moth wings that were folded delicately behind Pearl’s back.

She was scared, Grian could tell. Wide eyes that were the same blue of a storm-promising sky and filled with barely held back tears. She was scraped up and bruised from her fall, the wings trailing behind her seeming unnatural and unwieldy.

Grian didn’t ask questions. She needed help, and that was all he needed to know.

Later, he would hear stories of feathered golden wings, carrying Pearl through the sky alongside her flock. He would listen in from behind a door that hadn’t been completely shut as she told Jimmy what it was like to soar high above endless fields of sunflowers and wheat, racing her flockmates at speeds she would never again be able to achieve.

Grian and Jimmy had lost their flock when they were young. It was no wonder that Jimmy was interested in Pearl’s memories of her flock, who had treated her with kindness and love. Flockless avians were often unable to defend themselves and died without the protection a flock was supposed to provide.

Jimmy and Grian had been lucky enough to find an old town nearby, with inhabitants who were more than willing to let them in. They’d made a life for themselves there, when Pearl had come crashing into their lives.

“I broke my leg,” Pearl recalled, wincing slightly at the bittersweet memory. “And you and Tim helped patch me back up. And then I just never left.”

“I’ve cursed that day ever since,” Grian joked, yelping when Pearl elbowed him. “Hey! Not cool!” he squawked as Pearl giggled softly. “I wonder how Tim’s doing right now,” he added after a moment. “Do you think he misses us?”

Pearl raised her eyebrows. “Grian, we do visit him. He’s doing just fine, you saw for yourself. Got a whole new bunch of friends and everything!” She examined Grian’s face. “Oh, you’re not upset he didn’t join us, are you?” she teased lightly. “You know Jimmy would hate the outdoorsy life we’ve got going on. He’s perfectly comfortable where he is.”

Grian sighed, turning and hopping back to the area he’d prepared for their fire, beginning to place the sticks down. “Can you grab some rocks?” he asked, “I hate not being able to fly. Walking is so hard.”

Pearl laughed, setting her sticks down near Grian before starting to search for smaller rocks. “You do look cute though, hopping around like a little birdie. Oh, don’t give me that, you know it’s true!”

“It’s humiliating is what it is,” Grian muttered, “Mumbo and Scar are never gonna let me live it down.”

“Good!” Pearl chirped, bringing back the stones she had collected to make a circle. “You deserve it, honestly.”

Mumbo’s shriek rang out through the forest, startling the two. Grian nearly fell over from how much he jumped, eyes going wide from shock. What made the shriek more concerning was the explosion that followed soon after, and Pearl was about to charge off into the woods before Scar yelled, “Just a creeper! We’re good!” his voice tiny from the distance.

Pearl shook her head, sighing softly. “Those two are going to give me gray hairs early,” she murmured fondly.

“You’re not the only one,” Grian muttered, earning a laugh from Pearl. “What?”

“Maybe if you’d stop being such a scaredy cat–”

“I am not–!”

Despite their bickering, they were able to get the fire going before Scar and Mumbo came back, looking a tad singed but none the worse for the wear.

“Area is successfully lit up!” Scar proclaimed. “We should be safe from all the spooky things out there now. Should be.”

“We’ll set up a watch nonetheless. Better be safe than sorry,” Grian decided, as Mumbo and Scar joined him and Pearl at the campfire. “I’ll go first, because there is no way you’re waking me up once I’m out.”

“I’ll go second then,” Mumbo volunteered, “if no one else wants to,” he added after a moment.

Pearl shrugged. “I’ll take the third shift, then, and Scar can go last?”

“Sounds good to me!” Scar agreed, and the knights fell into silence.

As the makeshift campfire crackled softly, spitting sparks into the night sky, the knights lingered for a while around the small source of warmth and light. For a while, there was a somber sort of quiet hanging over the group– silence settling in the empty space that Impulse usually filled.

Grian, still in his watcher form, leaned forward to gaze into the fire, light reflecting off eyes as black as the night sky. Scar glanced over, and despite everything, had to suppress a giggle.

Clearly, he didn't do that very well, and Grian looked up at him with a slightly confused expression. “Are you alright, Scar?” he asked, and Scar couldn't hold it in anymore.

He giggled, reaching out and patting Grian's face. “You look like a kitty cat!” he exclaimed, “with your big ol' eyes and everything!”

Grian blinked. “I'm sorry, what–”

Pearl started laughing. “I guess we didn’t have to worry about them being scared by our other forms then, huh!”

Grian’s face flushed a light pink, and he shooed them all away. “Oh, go to bed! I’ll wake you for your shift, Mumbo!”

The other three dispersed, laying out the sleeping bags Pearl had thankfully thought to pack. Better to be over prepared than under, in her opinion.

Sleep came surprisingly quick, though it seemed like she had just closed her eyes when she felt Mumbo’s gentle hand on her shoulder, waking her for her shift. Pearl blinked away the sleep in her eyes and quietly thanked Mumbo, before taking a seat by the slowly dying campfire.

There wasn’t much to do during a night watch, other than to sit alone with her thoughts. And that’s exactly what Pearl did, until she thought of something too important to leave floating in her mind.

The plan was for Grian and her to expel the demon from Impulse using their own magic. But where would the demon go after, when it had been forced from its host?

Pearl quietly walked back to her sleeping bag, opening the small pack she had set beside it. She rifled through the contents for a moment before pulling out a small, clear cut crystal. She’d gotten it so long ago she’d forgotten how it came to be in her possession, but it would work just fine for what she was thinking of.

Walking back over to the campfire, Pearl shifted into her watcher form, holding the crystal in her hand. Sitting down, Pearl closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling the magic of the world around her. Another breath, to feel the magic buzzing in her veins. In and out, once more, and she began to imbue the crystal with her magic.

It was a simple enough task. All Pearl needed to do was prepare the crystal to bind the demon to it with her magic. Once the demon was expelled, it would be a simple enough task to pull it into the crystal. And then, as long as she kept checking on it from time to time and strengthening the binding magic, the demon would remain sealed away.

Deep breaths. In, and out.

Pearl let the magic flow through her and into the crystal, caught up in the feeling of casting. She didn’t do it often, not like this. It was nice to finally use her magic again. She didn’t even realize how much time had passed until she felt a hand on her shoulder, and Scar’s quiet voice in her ear. She opened her eyes to look at him, continuing to cast as she did. “Oh! Scar!” She kept her voice down, aware of how close they were to the two who were still asleep. “You good, mate?”

Scar nodded. “I think it’s time for my shift,” he explained, glancing toward the sky, “and also, I felt your magic. Whatcha doin’, Pearl?”

Ah. She had lost track of time, then.

Pearl finished casting, tucking the crystal into her pocket. “Just makin’ a lil magic crystal thing. For later,” she explained. “Sorry for not waking you up. Or… kinda waking you up? Since you sensed my magic and all? I guess?”

Scar shrugged, smiling slightly. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I got plenty of rest. Which you should probably try to do as well. Big day tomorrow.”

Pearl stood, shifting out of her watcher form. “Right, then. Have fun with your watch shift, Scar. And I’ll do my best. G’night, Scar.”

“Good night, Pearl.”

The morning came too quickly, and not quick enough at the same time. There were few attempts at conversation as the knights began to break down camp, kicking dirt over their small fire and packing up what little they had taken out. Grian, who had shifted into his “normal” form to sleep, shifted back into his watcher form and took a minute to relocate Impulse and the demon.

“I can’t see him, exactly,” Grian explained to Scar and Mumbo. “It’s a bit blurry, I guess. I know where he is, I can see the magic around him, but I can’t really make out small details like his face. I don’t really know why, but that’s just how it works.”

“Sooo… like looking through a really bad spyglass, then,” Scar concluded, earning a sigh from Grian. “What? I’m right!”

“I guess,” Grian admitted as they mounted their horses, “but that’s kinda like comparing a bow to Mumbo’s rocket launcher. They do kinda the same thing, but one’s a lot more complicated and powerful.”

Scar hummed thoughtfully. “I see… well, as long as it works!”

Grian remained in his watcher form as he led the tense ride through the forest. The sky above was streaked with clouds that occasionally would cover the sun and cast the land below into shadow. As the knights got closer to their destination, the trees began to thin out, promising open fields up ahead.

“You’d think he wouldn’t have gotten this far,” Grian muttered to Pearl, “but humans have so much endurance. It’s fascinating. And somewhat annoying.”

Pearl hummed softly, her gaze fixed straight ahead. “I’m worried for his health. I’m honestly doubting the demon cares too much for Impulse’s well-being, and I don’t think it has to deal with the negative effects of what it’s putting Impulse’s body through. If that makes sense.”

Grian nodded, his eyes focused not on what was in front of him but on something– someone– far away. “Demons don’t feel exhaustion or hunger, do they?” he asked, speaking mostly to himself.

“I think some do,” Pearl answered, “but not this one. Since it’s only in the blood, y’know? And it’s only borrowing… Impulse… so that’s not it’s… well. Body, I guess.”

Grian suddenly stopped, causing Pearl’s horse to almost run into his. “We’re dismounting here,” he called back to the other three. “Impulse is just up ahead, in the fields beyond the treeline.” He dismounted carefully, tying the reins to a sturdy branch. “Right. Let’s go over the plan one more time. We’ll find Impulse and confront the demon. Pearl and I will begin casting while Mumbo and Scar keep the demon busy and stop it from running off. Once Pearl and I start casting, we won’t be able to stop until the spell is over. So if something happens– if one or both of you gets injured, let’s say– we won’t be able to help.”

The others dismounted with serious looks on their faces, tension hanging in the air so thick one could almost cut it with a knife. Scar glanced over at Mumbo, who looked several shades paler than usual. “I’m the best at physical combat,” he began slowly, “when I go vex, at least. I’ll do my best to keep it from attacking you or running away, without hurting Impulse too badly.”

“The demon will be attacking to kill though, won’t it?” Mumbo asked, wringing his hands together as he looked between the other knights. “It won’t fight fair just because we are.”

Scar laughed sardonically. “Oh, I’m not gonna be fightin’ fair, mister. I’m just not gonna strike lethally, is all. But you’re right,” he added after a moment, “the demon is gonna try to kill us. And it’s– it’s strong. We know this. But the other option is letting Impulse die, or lettin’ someone else die in his place.”

“Impulse would never forgive us if that happened,” Mumbo pointed out, “and, well, given the other option is his death…”

“We can’t give up,” Scar finished, earning nods from the rest of the group. “We’ll get Impulse back. We have to.”

Pearl looked over at Grian, shifting into her watcher form as she did so. “Right, then. Time to head out?”

Grian nodded, clenching his hands into fists. “Time to head out. Let’s go save Impulse, guys.”

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds as the knights made their way out of the forest and into the wide open field. The wind rustled the grass around them and blew through their hair, and carried with it the promise of a fight.

Grian had shifted out of his watcher form if only for a moment, just to make travel on foot easier. He was, after all, not suited for walking with those bird feet of his in his watcher form. He carefully ran his hand over his wings and plucked three loose feathers, silently handing one to each of the knights. A promise. No matter which way this went, he’d be with them.

The knights each tucked their feathers away, Pearl reaching out to take Grian’s hand in one of her own and giving it a light squeeze. We’ll be okay, the action said, I’m here.

The knights continued to walk through the field, walking over a small hill when Grian suddenly stopped, his wings extending slightly so as to stop the knights who were walking behind him. “...I see him.”

And there he was.

Impulse stood in the field, facing away from the knights, slightly below them where the ground evened out after the hill. He seemed unsteady on his feet, the sword in his hand dragging against the ground as if he had unsheathed it only to forget why he had done so, and lacked the strength to fully pick the weapon back up.

And his hands… even from a distance, Grian could tell that Impulse’s hands were covered in blood– some dried, some freshly spilt. He… couldn’t think about that. They didn’t have the time to. Not now.

“Impulse!” Pearl called, her voice strong and steady. Grian wished he had the strength to do what she did. “Impulse, we’re here. It’s okay.”

Impulse startled, nearly dropping his sword as he turned around sharply. And finally, after so long of trying to find him, the knights were able to see his face.

He looked gaunt, scared. The bags beneath his eyes were a testament to the exhaustion that plagued his body, and the shake in his hands matched the fear in his eyes. That wasn’t the worst of it– twin horns poked up from his hair, unnatural and out of place. Mumbo sucked in a horrified breath at the sight, paling and covering his mouth with one hand.

“What–” Impulse’s voice sounded strained, raspy– “what are you doing here?” Tears filled his exhausted, scared eyes. “Why did you follow me? I could– I could hurt you!” And suddenly, it wasn’t Impulse anymore, but red eyes and a straightened back and steady hands that belonged to the demon. “Yes… why did you follow him? Don’t you know?” it mocked in Impulse’s voice, smiling. “He can hurt you pitiful little things.”

Scar’s eyes shone a brilliant blue, the colour fleeing from his hair as he glared at the demon that wore Impulse’s face. “What have you done?!” he yelled, his hands clenching into fists. Sharpened claws pricked into skin, drawing small beads of blood, but Scar didn’t even feel the pain. That was Impulse. Impulse was hurting and it was all because of that demon, the demon that stood in front of him and smiled at Scar with a face that wasn’t its own, that it had no right to use.

“Oh!” The demon tilted its head to the side. “Oh, nothing he didn’t ask for.”

Eyes filled with rage, Grian shifted back into his watcher form. “Scar! Mumbo!” he called, and the fight began.

Scar held himself back from going full vex at first, throwing himself at the demon. It hadn’t been expecting the initial attack, stumbling back several steps before pulling itself together. The shock didn’t last long, and the demon was soon fighting back with a fierceness that Scar did his best to match.

Grian looked over at Pearl, meeting her eyes. “Right then. Let’s end this.”

Standing side by side, the two siblings fixed their gaze on the demon in their friend’s body. The magic that swirled around him was wrong, unnatural, evil– and it was their job to fix it. Pearl reached out and took Grian’s hand in one of her own, giving him a nod. They both stretched out their free arms, and called upon their magic.

The clouds darkened as the very magic that flowed through the air began to change, as if even the sky stopped to focus its attention on the two Watchers. The ambient magic flowed around them like a gust of air, rustling through Grian’s feathers and Pearl’s hair.

Grian's wings extended to their full span, and Pearl's followed suit, snapping open as a glowing purple eye appeared behind them. The wind picked up as the grass around the two began to glow as well, the broken portal symbol of the ancient Evolutionists appearing at their feet.

Faces set with determination, the two began to cast.

Scar did his best to keep the demon’s attention on him as he fought. It was much different than normal fights– his goal was to keep the demon from running off, all while trying to dodge the blows that were aimed to take his very life. Scar felt the vex magic inside him boiling in his veins, begging to be let free, to run wild and take over his mind. He stubbornly fought it back down– he was in control, not the vex. He wasn’t ready to go full vex again. Not yet.

Unfortunately for him, the universe didn’t care if he wasn’t ready.

The demon, by possessing Impulse, had gained every bit of the man’s strength and skill. And given the strength-enhancing magic it likely held, it was no wonder that Scar was struggling. The demon attacked again, and Scar wasn’t able to get out of the way in time. He took a heavy blow to the side and stumbled back, losing his footing on the uneven terrain and falling to the ground hard.

Mumbo stumbled back as the demon suddenly turned toward him, fumbling to quickly draw his sword in order to block the sudden attack. He strained under the pressure of the demon bringing Impulse’s full strength to bear, his arms shaking as he tried to push back. “Scar!” he yelped, “Scar, I can’t–”

The demon brought the sword down, and it was only Mumbo’s quick thinking of jumping to the side that kept him from dying instantly. The blade still sliced into his arm, and Mumbo let out a frantic scream that made whatever restraints Scar had holding him back shatter. Mumbo dropped to the ground, blood flowing freely from the wound, and Scar…

Scar snapped.

Not in the same way he had before, not at all. He was in control, and could feel the power of the vex flowing through his body as natural as the blood in his veins. Power buzzed behind his eyes as shining vex wings appeared behind him, and he shot up, taking a few steps forward before attacking the demon, the overwhelming need to get it away from Mumbo singing in his movements.

The demon turned to attack Scar, and he dug his claws into its chest and pushed it back as hard as he could, almost throwing it with how hard he shoved. He’d clearly underestimated his strength, as the demon flew back and landed hard on its arm, the sickening gunshot snap of a bone breaking making Scar wince.

And for a moment, the scream that tore its way out in response was purely Impulse, his voice unchanged by the timbre of the demon’s. For a moment, it was just Impulse, only Impulse, and guilt swept through him like a torrent.

But then it was the demon again, pushing itself back up and switching the sword over to its left hand, shining red eyes glaring at Scar as it shifted into a fighting stance once more. “Well? Fight me, then. See how long it takes for your precious friend’s body to break down and give up.”

Scar’s eyes narrowed. He glanced over to where Mumbo was, clutching his arm close and watching the fight with wide eyes. He’d be alright, and that was what was important. Lifting his gaze once more, Scar met the demon’s gaze. “Impulse is stronger than you’ll ever be. You’ll be long gone before he ever breaks down,” he spat.

The fight didn’t get a chance to continue– with a shout, Grian drew Scar’s attention back to him and Pearl. The magic around the two siblings had become wisps of purple light, swirling around the two as they casted. Scar knew with uncanny certainty that the spell was almost complete.

The demon did as well, judging by its roar of anger. “No! I will not be defeated by pathetic little mortals–!”

Scar saw it attempt to go for Grian and Pearl and dashed forward, throwing himself at the demon and bringing it and himself crashing to the ground. He winced at the impact, mentally making a note to apologize to Impulse later, when they were all safe.

“Scar!” Pearl yelled, and Scar took that as his cue to get the heck away from there.

He jumped up and scrambled away, uncaring if he looked a little undignified in the movement. He made it to Mumbo and collapsed by the man, bleeding and gasping, and turned just in time to see the spell hit its mark.

The demon screamed, an awful sound that tore into Scar’s heart, because it was Impulse, it was Impulse’s voice and Impulse’s face and Impulse’s body but it wasn’t Impulse at the same time. It wasn’t Impulse, and the eyes that bore into Scar while it tried to stand and was inevitably forced to its knees were not Impulse’s.

And then they were.

And then it was over.

Pearl pulled out the crystal from her pocket, drawing the demon’s essence toward her and binding it into the crystal. The once clear gem turned a scarlet red, and once she was certain it was sealed away, she slipped the gem back into her pocket.

A weak sob tore its way from Impulse’s lips as he gingerly held his broken arm in his other. He squeezed his eyes shut, shrinking in on himself, and for the first time since Grian had met him, Impulse seemed so small.

Scar stood shakily, helping Mumbo to his feet as well. “Okay… okay, okay,” he breathed out, making sure Mumbo was really alright before turning back and forcing himself to walk– walk, not run, he’s scared and hurt right now– to Impulse, kneeling by him. “Hey, Impulse.” He could see the other knights approaching in his peripherals, but for now he stayed focused on the injured man in front of him. “Hey.”

Pearl settled in the grass a little bit away, still leaving enough room to give Impulse space as she shifted back into her normal form. Grian followed suit, tucking colourful wings behind his back and sitting next to his sister. “Hey, mate,” Pearl started gently. “Can ya hear us? We’re here.”

Impulse let out a broken sob, shrinking in even further on himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and the words were so quiet they were barely audible. “I’m so, so, sorry.” Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, mixing with blood and dirt.

Scar shared a look with Mumbo, before turning back to Impulse. He tried to keep his eyes from drifting to the horns that stuck up from the man’s head, and focused more on his face. “Impulse… Impulse, it’s okay. We’re okay. Can I touch you?” he asked, waiting for confirmation before reaching forward and carefully, as though Impulse were made of glass and would shatter at the slightest touch, drew him into a hug.

Impulse began to weep freely then, and Scar felt himself slowly relax out of his vex form, the colour seeping back into his hair and skin. He kept his arms around Impulse, murmuring soft comforts that had once been said to him.

It wasn’t long before Impulse passed out, from the exhaustion and exertion combined with the sheer pain and shock of the day’s events– of the weeks he had been dealing with the demon inside of his head alone. It had been exhausting, overwhelming, and Scar didn’t blame him in the slightest.

The journey home would be a long one, and the road to healing stretched out seemingly for an eternity. But the knights were no stranger to traveling, and this was just another path they would have to walk down.

Together.

#my writing #boatem knights au #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fanfic

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strawberryspence · 1 year

Text

Steve Harrington has always loved the sky.

How vast, and complex, and free it is. How it changes colors with the season and weather. Sunsets and sunrises, and the things they signify. Some may hate the way it makes them feel smaller, but Steve loves it. He feels safe being a tiny particle under this big sky.

At the early age of six, Steve remembers his mother, sitting beside him in the garden. She was the one who thought him cloud watching. Laying mindlessly in the garden, as they both point out at shapes at the blue sky. There’s a cup, a shape of a heart, a bear. One even looked like a guitar! It was one of the only things they did together for fun.

At thirteen, the sky becomes Steve’s only companion. His parents has left him again, alone in a big quiet house. He’s been in the pool for almost three hours, floating aimlessly as he stares at the sky. There’s different shapes, and it makes him a little less lonely knowing that he’s at least not alone as long as he’s under the big sky.

At seventeen, Steve finds the beauty in the night sky. The dark canvas, with the shining stars and the moon looking down at him. He doesn’t cry, because Harrington’s don’t cry. But there he was, laid in his backyard, nursing a broken heart from the first person he’s ever loved. He’s alone again, and he thinks he’ll always be alone. Just him and the big vast sky. However, there’s more important things now, more than heartbreaks and loneliness, like 12 year olds that get experimented in labs, a girl getting pulled in his pool and to her death and monsters living underneath him. Although underneath the big dark sky, Steve feels like he’s being wrapped in it’s darkness, almost like a comforting blanket.

At eighteen, Steve finds a real friend. Not the sky, but Robin Buckley. A friend he found under the night sky as the place they met went into flames, including Billy Hargrove and Jim Hopper. It’s cruel, but one of the things Steve has learned is that there’s always lost, and there’s always gain. Two nights after the fire, Steve asks, if Robin would lay beside her on the ground. They watch as dark sky turns as the sun rises, too scared to go back to sleep because only then can the nightmares haunt them again. They watch as colors mix from darkness to brightness, and the for the first time in a while, he has someone there with him.

At nineteen, Steve meets Eddie Munson. Really meets him, a brand new slate from what they had in high school. It’s the night just after they come back from the upside down, his bits have been eaten and they’ll probably go back there again tomorrow. Nancy has some kind of plan and he wants to sleep, but he can’t. They sit at the back of the trailer, away from people that could see them (specifically Eddie) smoking a cigarette.

“I can’t believe you guys have been doing this for years.” Eddie says, disbelief apparent in his voice.

Steve shrugs, “I don’t either. They’re—“ He pauses, thinks about El who’s only 15 and has the weight of the world on her shoulders, thinks of Will who’s been through hell and death, thinks of Max who’s still grieving her dead brother only for it to be used to lure her into death, he thinks of the kids, the kids who’s all barely 15 fighting this entity, “They’re all too young for this.” He finishes.

Eddie gives him a look, Steve doesn’t like it. It feels like he’s being studied, he feels naked under Eddie’s eyes. Like he can see through him, see the pieces Steve has hidden for so long.

“You’re young too.” Eddie answers back, tilting his head, “You, Robin, Nancy, even me.”

Steve shrugs, “I guess. I just want this to end already.”

Eddie looks away, staring at the skies as it finally starts changing its hues.

“I don’t really like sunrises.” Steve looks at him, offended and ready to defend his dear old companion.

But Eddie continues, “I’ve always liked the sunsets more, you know? Sunsets are— endings. But they show you that even endings could be beautiful.”

Steve stares at him, watching silently as Eddie smokes. Steve knows the sun is rising now, and he’s never been one to miss it when it’s right in front of him. But there’s something about the way the different colors are hitting Eddie’s face, the light dancing on his skin and his brown eyes illuminating the colors, like it’s lighting him up in ways Steve has never seen before. It’s breathtaking, Eddie’s breathtaking and it makes him feel things he’s never felt before.

When the silence grows heavy, Eddie breaks it with, “Plus I really like it when the sky turns orange.”

It’s the first time Steve has ever ignored the sky.

At nineteen, Steve learns that the sky could also be red. He doesn’t remember much, just Dustin crying over Eddie’s body as the red sky above him thunders on, menacing and cackling at their demise. The clock just struck, four fault lines running across the town above him. Vecna got Max and Eddie’s dead in Dustin’s arms. It’s hard to look up at the sky then, when they finally emerge from hell. Steve thinks that no clear blue sky, or no dark starry night, can ever give him comfort again.

At twenty, almost three months from the first Vecna fight, the sky is permanently gray and stormy. Steve Harrington is bones and meat. Nothing else. He is nothing but a body, weary of the life that has been given to him. They fight for the last time. Steve wants to run away, pack his bag and never look back but as long as his under this fucking sky, he will always remember that he abandoned them. He fights, he fights, he fights. Eddie’s dead, and Max is in a coma, and Steve Harrington fights until it ends.

They get Max back, but she’s forever changed by the experience. They win, the skies turn back to blue and Steve wants to vomit. If this is what it means to win, then why does he want to die? Why does winning feel so much like losing?

At twenty-two, Steve moves to Boston with Robin and Nancy. It’s a weird group, his best friend and her girlfriend, who was also his ex-girlfriend. But they’re Steve’s family (aside from the kids) and he’d go anywhere if Robin asks. He hasn’t laid in his back to watch the clouds in three years, he hasn’t stayed up to look at the night sky, he hasn’t watched the morning sun rise to it’s beauty and he hasn’t watched the sunset in a while.

It’s a conversation they’ve always avoided. Robin knows that Steve used to love the sky, he told her just as much, how it feels like a companion he’s always had. She doesn’t know why he stopped, why he stopped looking up and pointing out random shapes, or random constellations. Why he hasn’t been waking her up in the morning just so he can show her the sky changing to another beautiful color, morning after morning. All she knows was it stopped after Eddie died.

Eddie’s death has always been hard for the three of them. This one person who’ve they known for almost a week, leaving such a big impression in their lives. She knows Nancy has stash of metal music, smiling with a sad grin whenever Metallica comes on. Robin has multiple guitar pins, always an electric guitar in the color red, pinned in her coat, in her bag, in her bedroom and anywhere else she can stick it on. And Steve, well, Robin held his hand as he got his first tattoo. A D20 dice, just above his demobat scar. Robin’s still not sure if he cried because of the pain of the needle or the pain of having the same scar, in the exact same place, of someone who didn’t survive it.

It all comes out one day. The anniversaries has always been harder, not only were they far away from the kids, but the Vecna spring anniversary always hits them the hardest. It’s also Eddie’s death anniversary, to make it worse. Robin plans it all out, they stay in all day. Just watch movies, eat snacks, stay wrapped in comfortable blankets. The three of them fall asleep in the middle of their fourth movie of the day, all tangled together and it’s days like this— like this that makes it harder to ignore the fact that it should’ve been the four of them rather than just three.

Robin wakes up with Steve not beside her, Nancy still sleeping peacefully beside her. The digital clock— they all can’t stand the silent tick tocking of a clock, reminds them too much of a grandfather clock, no matter how big or small— blinks at her, it’s almost 5:21 in the afternoon. From where she is sitting, she can feel the cold wind brushing her feet, the door of the apartment balcony open. She stands up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and walking out to the small balcony.

It’s a surprise to see her soulmate watching the sky start to change colors, the sun impending to set in a few more minutes.

“You’re watching the sunset.” Robin states, making Steve look up at her.

“Yeah.” He replies.

Robin sits beside him, putting the half of the blanket on his shoulder, the half on hers. They watch as the colors start to change. The blue shifting to pink and purple.

“I stopped watching the sky because of Eddie.” Steve starts, startling Robin. It’s been a conversation waiting to happen for years now, but she didn’t think it would happen today. She finds her footing almost immediately, “Why’s that?”

Steve isn’t looking at her, just watching as the sky dances in front of him. Robin have imagined hundreds of ways that this conversation could go but she never expected him to say, “I think I could’ve loved him. Sometimes, I think I do love him.” She had her suspicions, that maybe her bestfriend isn’t entirely straight. But she didn’t connect the dots that it was Eddie who made him realize this.

Steve continues, “He said he loved sunsets, he loves when it turns orange. Because it showed people that endings could also be beautiful.”

Steve has watched maybe hundreds, maybe thousands of sunsets in his life. But this one— they stay quiet, Nancy comes out a little later, sitting on Steve’s other side and holding his hand through the sunset. Together they watch as the day of the anniversary ends, with what Steve could only call the most beautiful sunset he’s ever seen in his life. It turns into the most beautiful hue of orange and Steve breaks.

“That’s him.” Robin tells him, as she wraps him into a hug, as Steve finally cries on her shoulders, both grief and pain chocking him as he sobs harder, “It’s okay. Eddie’s okay now, and he’s letting us know. We’ll be okay.”

“We’ll be okay.” Nancy reassures, hugging the two of them.

Only then does Steve find comfort in the sky again, with the two people he loves and he knows loves him and under the sky as an old friend watches over.

At twenty-six, Steve graduates with a Bachelor of Science, majoring in Atmospheric Science.

Steve doesn’t avoid the sky anymore, he studies it now, writes the weather news for a big Boston channel. He stops to point out random objects in the sky, has a telescope set up for constellations. He drinks a hot cup of coffee, every morning, watching as the sun rises.

He lays in the grass with Dustin and Suzie’s son and teaches him how to cloud watch. He takes time to send reminders to Max and Lucas to wear a raincoat if he sees that it’s going to rain in California. He talks to Will and Mike for hours, just trying to describe to them a weather phenomenon so Will could draw it and Mike could write it for their latest best-selling comics. He knits El a gorgeous sky blue scarf, because he knows how cold it gets in New York.

Wayne calls him, every other day, to ask how the weather is in Boston and Steve asks how the weather is in Indiana. Steve spends a few months in a year in the guest room of the farm house Joyce and Hop bought in 1986. He stays and writes about the stars and the planets, because the skies are so much clearer in rural places.

He still lives with Robin and Nancy, but they’ve moved to a house now. He’s got equipment for sky watching at the backyard and the girls surprised him with sunroof in his office. They have a dog named Hetfield and cat named Sabbath.

And more than anything, Steve loves sunsets. He has the time of every sunset for everyday charted in his room. He stops, whatever he is doing, however important it is, just to go out and get a glimpse of the sun setting. Sometimes, at home, the girls accompany him, like an unspoken ritual, to just watch the sun setting. He waits for it to turn into some shade of orange and smiles when it turns to the color.

It’s a hello, a how are you, a comfortable hug.

It’s an old friend in the form of the sky.

It’s Eddie Munson just checking in.

→ @undreaming-fanfiction’s beautiful addition (p2)

→ dustin henderson & sunsets (p3)

-> the alternate nicer, fluffier sunrise fic

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winterrrnight · 6 months

Note

Prompt "no one's ever done that to me before." With zach

thank you so much for this request anon! I hope you enjoy reading this :)

special

PAIRING: zach maclaren x gn!reader

SUMMARY: zach shows you what love is actually supposed to feel like.

WARNINGS: sooo much fluff I think I'll die

EDITH SPEAKS: this. this is what I want. I swear never ever expect less than this from a partner. You deserve the whole world lovie 🫶🏻🫶🏻

please please reblog if you loved reading it! feedback is always appreciated 🎇

PROMPT REQUESTED: "no one's ever done that to me before."

300 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation

You smile when Zach opens the car door for you, mumbling a little thank you as you take his extended hand. He gives you a little kiss on the back of your hand, the heat in your cheeks not failing to rise.

You met Zach a short while ago, but the spark between you didn't go unnoticed when he took the bold step of asking you out. You were over the moon; you've had your eye on him for some time and he seems like the sweetest guy ever, so you definitely couldn't say no.

But your mind loves to play tricks with you, and you got scared if this step is the right one or not.

All because of them.

Your ex-lover.

You loved them so much, but they never reciprocated it, leaving you a broken mess. Zach was the one who made you realise your standards in lovers has been set so low, that when your date is over an hour late, and just comes to tell you they'll be leaving in 20 minutes, it's all okay. Why? Because atleast they took out time from their "busy" schedule to tell you about their shortage of time.

Since your first date, Zach never fails to show up with flowers at your doorstep, always one of your favorite kind. He'll take your hand and lead you to his car, opening your door for you, and when you reach the restaurant, he'll pull out your chair for you, let you sit and push it back in.

And right now, you've just been to one of the best dates you've ever had with him. It was funny; he took you to a simple fast food restaurant but he wanted you both to dress up as fancy as if you're going to a five star michelin restaurant. You both definitely looked like doofs in your fancy clothes getting all up in your burgers and fries, but you both sure did have fun.

But, unlike always, Zach doesn't drop you at your home after the date. Instead, he insisted he takes you somewhere "special".

He takes you by your hand, and leads you to the edge of a cliff he's driven up to. The sun is setting, and you both sit down in the grass, the pinkish hues cascading a glow on you both.

Zach's arm wraps around your shoulders and you rest your head on his shoulder, both of you sitting in comfortable silence as you watch the sun slowly slump down.

"This place reminds me so much of you," he whispers, not wanting to ruin the serene moment you both are sharing.

You look up to him, an expectant glint in your eye. "Why's that?" You ask him.

"Because," he takes in a deep breathe, "each time I look at this sunset, watching the day slowly slip into the night, I realise how extremely lucky I am to have someone like you with me. I spend my days thinking about you, being with you, and I take this moment to understand how grateful I am to have you by my side. This, this beauty in front of us," he shifts his head towards you, "it reminds me of you. Of your beauty, and how perfect you are, just like this sunset,"

You swear you could've started sobbing at that moment. You need a moment to realise this is all real; you are sitting with a boy who makes you feel so special, gives you all the love you could've asked for. Relationships aren't meant to make you feel bad, or ignored. They are supposed to make you feel loved.

"Zach," you say softly, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, "you mean so much to me. Everything you do, it all means the whole world to me. No one's ever done that to me before, Zach, no one. I didn't know I can ever feel so special,"

"That's the least I can do for you," he presses a kiss to your hairline. "I love you so much, bub, so so much,"

You smile softly, taking his face in your hands and pressing a kiss to his lips, trying to convey all your love through this gesture.

"I love you more."

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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ficthots · 7 months

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A/N: Wow, just yeah. I know it's been a long while since I posted for Peter, but like I promised, I was working on things for him and here it is! Now, I'll crawl back into my cave until my next writing is ready. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Word Count: 6.4K+

Time is a fucking thief. Really, it is. Waking up with the rising of the sun, getting ready to go to a job you despised, remaining in a windowless cubicle for eight hours, making dinner, then time to sleep again. Watching the clock as each passing minute was taken from you over and over again. Now when you throw being a superhero into the mix, it makes it even worse.

Holding down relationships, careers, any and all of the important things in life were always seemingly snatched away when it came to the personal life of crime fighting vigilante Spider-Man. That’s why when you entered his life it was like getting another opportunity to engage with time he had never experienced before.

Looking forward to coming home and eating dinner, stopping by on patrol nights to give you a goodnight kiss no matter what, to Peter Parker, he would do everything in his power to devote as much time as he possibly could to you.

Perhaps you were the time thief in his life now. Either way he didn’t mind when it came to you.

Were there times when it just simply wasn’t possible to shovel all of his waking energy towards you? Of course! The problems came when it had been that way for months. Yeah, you read that right.

In the span of four months, Peter had become so ravaged with his other entities responsibilities that his time with you was drastically rescinded. Unanswered text messages for days, not a peep from him for a week at a time, no more windowsill kisses. It was like he had vanished into thin air.

You understood at first. Hell, you had been dating the man for three years! What was happening, though, was unlike anything he had ever dealt with before. A group of men, identities undisclosed, were wreaking havoc throughout New York City. For months on end, like clockwork, every other week a crime would occur.

Each more gruesome than the last.

Peter had never really been on a deadline like this. Knowing that with each ticking second it was growing closer to the next attack. Spending all nights on the streets, trying to spot whoever could be responsible for this.

The worst part was that he had no leads. A few locations that were all pointless distractions. No semblance of an inkling as to who was committing all of these atrocities. In the span of time since their starting, over eight lives had been taken. A mind boggling number for such a short span of time.

Police were just as useless and he had decided to not take up any more time than necessary with them in tow simply because they weren’t taking this as seriously as they should have been. Instead of confronting the public, reminding them to be careful and not to wander alone past sunset, they were sweeping it under the rug.

Not wanting to cause a public disturbance. No need to fear monger they had told Spider-Man. Assuring him that all of those victims were tied to a gang in one way or another and it was criminal activity work. Something that he shouldn’t spend too much time dwelling on.

That was not a good enough answer for Peter. He didn’t believe them. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure it was a group behind all of this. It could have been a serial killer that was on one hell of a spree.

There was no pattern with their victims either. Randomly selected from the streets. What you didn’t understand was why Peter was involved with all of this. Of course, you knew he wanted to do all in his power to save as many lives as he could, but you warned him to be careful after the initial police warning.

Sticking his nose in places it didn’t belong was not going to end well. It had been the first time you two had argued to that extent. Shouting at the top of your lungs you weren’t ready to lose him and that’s what you were afraid was in the works.

He called you silly for thinking such things. That you needed to have more faith in him than you were giving. It still didn’t answer why he was so invested in this. You knew there were details he was purposely not giving you. Maybe he didn’t want to frighten you or maybe he thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but to you, you were a partnership, a pair.

All you wanted was to have Peter back around. Who knows, you might be able to actually help him if he came to you and showed you what he did and did not have. Instead, he hid it from you. Becoming cold and aloof. Distant and consumed.

If there was something you knew about Peter it was that he did not like being bested. Truly holding himself to a standard that was near impossible. Knowing he was above average intelligence, to put it lightly, when people tried outsmarting him, it was always a humorous effort. No one bested Spider-Man.

This time, they were.

Following that night of your monstrous bickering, you hadn’t seen or heard from Peter in over a week. Honestly, you weren’t making much of an effort yourself. Having no interest in being around him when he was in a head space like this. Knowing that there really was no way to help him if he presented nothing to you.

Peter on the other hand was not okay with you going dark on him. Despite knowing that the clock was dwindling down before their next attack, it was the first time in weeks you had been at the forefront of his mind. The little voice in the back of his head was telling him he needed to smooth this over with you or he would regret it.

Which is why he was climbing into your living room window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, opting to take the night off even though it could be a crucial turning point. He ended up convincing himself it would be alright because if he didn’t have a direction to go in an hour before arriving at your apartment, then hunting tonight was pointless.

He didn’t have a direction.

Even though you hadn’t spoken to Peter, your thoughts were consumed by him as well. What was the bit of information he wasn’t giving you? Was there even anything he was leaving out? There could be the slim possibility he had actually divulged all he knew to you. But you knew better than that. Peter was hiding something, you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

The notes.

Discovered next to each of the victims he had come across. Given he was the only individual to find them and when he tried bringing it to the attention of the police, they had shrugged him off. They were trying to get to him.

Sheets of white printer paper, the typical horror movie fashion of assembly. Varying letters from magazines, newspapers, old letters, all taped and pasted on the paper in a note. Each one was different, but told in a fashion of a word problem. Some were like riddles.

Either way, with each new victim that appeared, so did a new note. It was one of the things he dreaded the most. Seeing what possibly innocent person had been selected in order to deliver the paper to him. His stomach turned just at the thought of it.

Tonight was not for that, though. Instead he chose to bury it in the back of his brain and spend some much needed time with you. So why weren’t you home?

If there was one thing Peter knew and loved about you was that you were a schedule person. Totally type-a, your day planned to perfection and given it was just after six o’clock that evening, you should’ve been in the kitchen plating your dinner.

Except, there was no you in the kitchen, there was no music or television playing in the background, it looked as though nothing had been touched all day. Until he stepped further into the kitchen.

When his eyes darted over to the corner of your counter, partly covered by your fridge, he froze. There it sat. An uneaten bowl of cereal. The milk on the counter next to it, the cereal box still opened and there.

As he approached it, observing the contents, you hadn’t even gotten a spoon out yet. It was filled to the brim, more so than you would’ve liked, but given it hadn’t been touched some of the cereal had inflated from the milk.

“Bug?” His voice, calm and collected echoed out into the quiet flat. Finally prying his eyes away from the alarming sight he had just seen, he was stumped. Everything else in the living room and kitchen was exactly as it should have been.

Maybe you were running late this morning and didn’t realize until after you had made your breakfast. Yes, of course! That’s exactly what it was.

Peeking into your bedroom, his heart rate decreased, a sense of relief and ease settling over him at the entirely bogus reasoning he had used to calm himself down. Until the most unusual sight of all was spotted.

Your phone sitting soundly on your nightstand, still connected to the charger. His hand rubbed at his closed eyes, trying to will his breathing to return to a normal rate. Tapping the screen, it lit up with dozens of texts. Some from Peter, some from coworkers, a few missed calls from work.

Never would you ever forget your phone. Never would you ever not put the cereal back in its place. Something was wrong.

His trembling hands removed his own phone from his pocket, before entirely losing any semblance of sanity, he dialed your boss’s number. It picked up on the third ring and Peter did his best to sound as normal as he could.

“Hey, Guy! It’s Peter Parker,” he was instantly cut off by his chipper voice on the other end. “Peter! How the heck are you?” He sighed, a shaky laugh escaping him. “Great, great. I just have a quick question for you,” as Peter asked if you had made it into work today, Guy responded fast.

“No, actually she didn’t today or yesterday. Didn’t even call. It’s not like her at all. I think a few of her team members tried texting her and didn’t hear from her either. Everything okay?” It was the worst thing he could have been told at that moment.

Clearing his throat, he tried to remain calm. “Mhm, yeah, yes. She’s just, uh, very sick. It might be a few days before she’s well enough to get back to the office. I didn’t call earlier because I wasn’t sure if she had or not.”

Guy’s laugh of relief was palpable. “Whew, thank goodness! Okay, well tell her to rest up and we’ll see her when she’s all better.” Thanking him and quickly ending the call, Peter tore your apartment upside down.

Any clues he could think of, any sign of forced entry, anything at all. But there was nothing. It was all still in the pristine condition it had been left in. Not a single thing out of the ordinary despite the two big red flags. Even going through every app on your phone, just in case, but it was fruitless.

Alarm bells were chiming in his head, he knew something was wrong. He knew you were in some sort of danger. He collapsed on your couch, wracking his brain for anything that could have given him something to work with.

Then he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye. A small piece of white paper stuck to the tongue of a running shoe you never wore. Turned on its side. He couldn’t remember if he had knocked it over during his rushed search of your apartment, but as he picked it up, his blood turned to ice.

Taped to the shoe were the letters he dreaded seeing. Had been haunting him in his sleep for weeks. When he could sleep that was. Unlike the others, it was almost a clue as to where to go next. His eyes quickly saw the time and knew they were going to strike again soon. Far too soon.

One step forward, three steps back, find her quick before she’s the next attack

It was an anger unlike anything he had ever felt before. Not when his parents had died, not when uncle Ben died, it was so overpowering, Peter truly didn’t know how to control it. Darting out of your window, knowing he was on limited time, he began his search.

A near pointless search. A pill that was hard to swallow. Knowing the chances of actually finding you were so slim. He had the list in the back of his mind, places he had scouted previously that he knew they had used at one point or another.

That was the only thing he could think to do. Which is exactly what he did. Searching one by one individually, spending no more than thirty seconds to one minute at each location before going down the list. Did he destroy some of those places during his searches? Absolutely.

He only grew angrier with each location he arrived at that you weren’t in. His hope was running out. Knowing he was at the last two possible places you could be at that he knew about. It was an abandoned warehouse by the river. The first place he had ever tracked them to, but it was far too late when he made his discovery. They had been out of there for over a week by the time he found it.

They were always just a few steps ahead of him and it drove him mad. His masked face searched the premises from what he could see. Through one of the partly shattered windows, there appeared to be a figure on the far end of the building.

A single light shining on them, their back facing where Peter stood. Sitting in a chair, only a wisp of a shadow, no identifying features to be made out. Assuming it was going to be a fight he was about to step into, Peter broke the remainder of the window and launched himself in.

Eerily silent. No noise in the entire building apart from the howling wind outside. It was beginning to become mid-fall in the city and it was always your favorite time of year. No one was enjoying the crisp autumn air that evening.

It was unbearably stuffy in there. No fresh air had swept through the place in years. The stale scents made that abundantly clear. Peter hesitantly approached the figure, the lighting just so he couldn’t make anything out until only a few hundred yards away.

The minute he saw the tied hands behind the back of the chair, his heart soared. “Bu-bug!” His voice shouted, relief flowing off of him in waves, but they came crashing down just as fast.

He wasn’t even sure if it was you. Incredibly deformed from obvious beatings, your face was swollen, bruised, and bloody like he had never seen before. The zip tie around your wrists had cut into the skin, pieces of flesh hanging from it.

As he looked down, the sticky floor was a deep crimson, continuing to pool from your countless open wounds. No shoes were on your feet, they too were cut and dangling from your seated position, totally limp.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was in your mouth as a makeshift gag, but whatever it was had been there so long, your skin was raw and bruised around it. It was the first thing he removed and as he did, your chipped teeth entered his view.

A blanket was draped over you that was covered in things Peter did not even want to begin to imagine. It was the next thing he went to remove, but he halted the moment it was off your body.

There, stapled to your bare chest, was his next note. The same haunting letters, covered in either your own or someone else’s blood. Based on the missing fingernails, he assumed it was a fight you had given which made him silently pray it was someone else’s, yours already spilled too much.

It took him a second longer than he realized to see that your toes were mainly all facing the wrong way. Your arms bruised from newly broken bones, legs in the same condition.

His trembling voice was the first thing you heard as he cut the tie from your hands, whimpers and choked cries trying to escape your hoarse throat. Immediately going limp, Peter caught you. Your body was convulsing in ways he had never seen, unable to open your eyes and see that Peter had found you.

His tears made heavy tracts on his sweat riddled skin. His gloved hands smoothed over the inflamed sections of your face. “I’m-I’m here bug, I got you. I found you, baby. I got you, okay? It’s okay now, baby.” Despite knowing how difficult and incredibly painful his next actions were going to be, he had to get you out of there.

Medical attention was the only way you were going to be able to survive. That meant Peter was going to have to carry you to the hospital. No possibility of emergency services being able to get to you before it was too late.

He was right. Had he waited for emergency services you would have died. You had been in the hospital for three weeks now. Finally in a state where you were fully conscious, despite the pain that never subsided, you were doing better than everyone thought.

It was unclear how long you had been in their “care” before Peter had found you. Based on the little memory you had from the snatching, it was assumed you had been with them for at least forty-eight hours, possibly more.

Peter hadn’t left your side since. Growing tired of hearing the nurses and doctors praise Spider-Man for having found you and saving you when he did. Hardly. He had hardly saved you.

In fact, this was his fault. It was the conclusion he had made. His careless and reckless behaviors had led them straight to you. He hadn’t spoken to you in a week and look what they had done. They thought they had killed you. There hadn’t been another attack yet. It meant nothing though.

No, the note left for him said otherwise. You’ve made it three steps back, how long until the grand final act?

Peter was frightening you. Since you had been awake and aware of what was happening, he had hardly spoken to you. The deep purple bags under his eyes were only growing worse, skin a sickly gray you had never witnessed in a human before, face hollowing out from lack of rest and food.

All he did was write in his notebook.

Curled up in a chair, he stared at the pages for hours on end. Occasionally writing and scribbling in it. His eyes never rested, constantly darting around the pages. It had been weeks of this. Total silence from him, not sure how to talk to him when he was like…this.

It was another late night in the hospital, having drifted in and out of painful sleep all day. Based on the lack of staff and visitors present, you assumed it was the middle of the night. The hospital floor just outside your door was quiet. An easy night for the staff, you thought.

Trying to figure out how to eat a pudding cup, one of the only things you could keep down, was your current task at hand. The tv playing with hardly any sound, it being the only main light in there, Peter silently re-reading whatever was in that book. That was the current mood of your room.

Eating was difficult. Only having three working fingers on your non-dominant hand, luckily one being your thumb, you struggled to pick up the spoon, also knowing you couldn’t move your arm to bring the spoon to you or bend over to get closer to consume anything. Just trying to move to secure the spoon in your mangled fingers had you on the verge of tears, losing your breath along the way.

You could do nothing without help. Not wanting to ask Peter for any assistance because of how poor his mood was. That was where you two currently sat with one another. Scared to speak to him more than absolutely necessary. Hardly speaking since being here.

His eyes briefly glanced at you before realizing what you were trying to do, throwing his notebook onto the side table. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you even trying to do, bug?” His voice was soft, a slight laugh in his voice, exhaustion evident with each word spoken. Taking the spoon from your hand, he pulled his chair closer to the bed, beginning to bring it to your lips.

It was silent until your eyes darted back at the book, deciding to take a leap. “Whatcha writing?” Your cracked, gravelly, and weak voice echoed through the silent room.

It made him want to revert to a blind rage attack. Your voice that was usually so full of life and excitement. Strong and loud that could command an entire room with only a few words. Now, he could hardly hear you, understand you, look at you. Jaw clenching at the question, his teeth grinded together.

When he closed his eyes, he saw visions of you beaten in that warehouse, left for dead. The immense pain you had been suffering through ever since then. Scars that would never fade, both physically and mentally meant he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Not until he found them.

Your face was doing better, still black and blue, but healing. Able to open your eyes and look at him despite the popped blood vessels. Bandages littered every inch of your skin, wrists tightly wrapped with special medicine for the skin loss.

“Notes,” he murmured, eyes darkening as you asked your question, obviously not wanting to speak about it more. Changing the topic as your pudding came to an end, his hand brushed through your hair, knuckles lightly brushing against your cheek. “What do you need? Anything?”

It was silly. A simple question to see if you really did need anything. It didn’t stop the tears from hurriedly falling down your face. “Yo-you, Peter. I need you. I don’t know where you’ve been, but it hasn’t been here with me. I feel like I’m healing on my own. Like you’re not even here. You sit in that chair, staring at that notebook for days on end. You’ve hardly looked at me, spoken to me, listened to me. Please, just come back to me. Please, Pete.” It was borderline begging, but months of pent up frustration had broken the dam.

Peter’s heart continued to crack with each additional word you said. Realization of what he was doing to you, slamming into him all at once. He nodded, chin resting on one of the side rails, sniffling himself. “I’m here, bug. Whatever you need. I’m so sorry.”

Your only non-fully broken hand you extended towards him, wincing in pain from the movement. Scared to touch you, he only placed your hand back down, removing the side rail to get as close as possible to you.

The rest of the night, you two sat chatting ,watching whatever movies you wanted. It was a glimpse at the man you had seemingly lost all those months ago. Peter was back.

You were released from the hospital just shy of a week later. Peter’s plan to nurse you back to health was his moving in with you. While it was just supposed to be while you recovered, you two ended up enjoying it so much, he was now permanently living there.

It felt like your relationship was shooting by leaps and bounds, spending time together like you had never experienced before. Him being there when you went to bed at night and his face being the first thing you spotted when your eyes opened was a treat you didn’t know you needed.

Feeling content, cared for, respected, and loved like never before. Peter admitted, with your confession to him in the hospital about how distant he had become, tore him apart. He had never seen you moved to tears in such a way, especially over him.

He didn’t realize how deep he had been sucked in until that moment. From then on, Peter swore to keep his other persona on the sidelines for a bit whilst you healed and needed him. Did that mean he was going to stop being Spider-Man in the meantime?

Of course not. It meant that side of him was reserved for the span of time from when you fell asleep to about forty minutes before you would wake up in the morning. Absolutely clueless as to the fact that he had been out all night.

Hunting. Stalking. Tracking.

It was the first night in which you didn’t need him to help lay you down in bed. Peter knew his sleep schedule was already fucked, each time his eyes would drift shut all he could see was you strapped to that chair, nearing death.

And the fact that he hadn’t caught them.

Keeping him up at night, when he could sleep it was plagued by nightmares. Peter knew that there was no opportunity for him to rest while these scumbags were still wandering the streets, looking for another prey to select for their sick games.

Which is why he was doing this without you knowing. Not wanting to worry you and cause you further stress. No, Peter could do this. Would do this. Had to do this. He had made amazing moves. Truly spectacular given the place he had been stuck in before.

They had no idea he had found them, watched their every move, plotted what he was going to do to them. Honestly, when he first spotted one of the three he had discovered had been involved in your…incident, it took every ounce of strength he had to not murder the man right then.

He had to remind himself that all he had to do was provide some patience and the reward would be unlike anything he imagined. And imagine he did.

It was what plagued his thoughts every single day as he watched you hobble around such short distances that only offered pain and tiredness from. His eyes would drift over your still bruised skin as he helped you bathe and it was like witnessing it all over again.

Your hand would tip his chin up, forcing him to lock eyes with you. It was nearly impossible to not see the sadness and hurt in his eyes. Disappointed in himself for letting this happen to you. It didn’t matter because what had happened was now in the past and all you were looking forward to was healing.

The emotional and traumatic scars left on you were not easy to mask. Perhaps that was another reason why Peter was so furious as well. If he moved too quickly behind you, you jumped and a small scream would follow. Trembling for upwards of an hour before settling down. Peter would have to tell you small things to gather your thoughts.

Feel my hand? I`m right here, bug. Here, I want you to use the remote and put on whatever you want. You feel the couch under you? You’re home, baby. You’re safe.

If it weren’t for Peter, you weren’t sure what you would do. He was your rock, your other half, offering reason for unreasonable thoughts. He was your Peter.

The rain was pattering against the window, a sort of white noise you weren’t expecting tonight, but were grateful for it nonetheless. It helped you drift off to a dreamless sleep, exhaustion from trying to do some basic things today taking too much out of you.

Peter was already out of the house before he knew you were soundly asleep. He couldn’t risk being late. Tonight was the night.

Weeks of following them, understanding and breaking their odd patterns, he watched as they went according to plan perfectly. A construction sight for a new high rise. This was their new rendezvous sight for the next attack.

There wouldn’t be another attack.

Counting silently in his head, as he saw a flicker of a small light near the top floor, his count was perfect. They entered exactly on schedule. Crawling down the side of the building and using the thunderstorm to his advantage, he shattered a window a few floors up.

There was no other way that he knew of other than how they had entered and that was far too risky as they had all other doors blocked. As he slowly descended the staircase to scout the floor and determine which room they were in, his hair stood on end as a voice hit his ear.

Three of them. All there. The monsters who were behind your attack. Simply waiting for him.

Except, they didn’t know they were waiting for him. No, tonight was a setup night. Preparation for the coming days of their next plan. Peter had determined fairly early on it was not going to be their final act like they had claimed.

The door was kept slightly ajar with a cinder block, no handles on them yet meaning if it closed, there was no way out for them. Which was their plan for their next victim. Leave the poor soul trapped here with no means of getting out alive.

Peter’s skin was crawling, every instinct shouting at him to just do it. End them now. It would be so easy. He shook off those thoughts, knowing his plan was the correct one.

He dropped to the floor behind them, one of them catching him out of the corner of their eye, a smirk taking over his face. “Spidey boy finally found us, boss.” The thick accent made him hard to understand. Peter kept silent. Very silent.

The other two turned to face him, matching looks on their hideous faces. “How’s your girl? You otta be more careful next time or she could get seriously hurt.” A chuckle escaped them. Peter still didn’t move, watching them from a few paces away.

Quickly deciding they weren’t a fan of the silent treatment, the largest man in the center who Peter knew to be their ringleader drew his gun. In the blink of an eye, web flew towards the gunman, pinning the weapon to the wall behind him.

“Come on now, you didn’t think I knew what you have on you? Just like how I know tweedledee over here is about to throw a knife at me,” Peter ducked out of the way as the blade hurdled towards him. “Now how about we all play nice and introduce ourselves?”

An over exaggerated sigh escaped Peter’s lips as the three men darted towards him, but he acted quickly, webbing them to the surrounding walls, letting one approach him to fight him. “Guess not. Okay, then. I guess I’ll be the one making the rules tonight then.”

Peter grabbed the three chairs from one of the corners of the room before leisurely strolling towards the door and pushing the cinder block from the opening. He whistled a made up tune as he removed them one by one, webbing them to the seats to the point of them not being able to move an inch.

“You know, it’s such a shame sometimes that I wear this mask because I would love you guys to see how big of a smile I have right now. Scouts honor, I am overjoyed that we finally get to do this!” He took his own seat directly across from them.

His head scanned them before pointing at the one on the right. “Let’s start with you bumblebee. What’s your name?” His black and yellow striped shirt was what appointed him his nickname. “You think we’re going to talk? I have nothing to say.”

Peter nodded at his words before looking at the other two. “Same goes for you two then, I assume?” When they didn’t respond, instead only seeing spit hurl towards him, he dropped his head, shaking it. “Such a shame. Alright, last chance. Just give me a name.”

Silence.

A shrug. “It brings me no joy to resort to this, fellas. I’m truly not a violent person. I pride myself on being as gentle as I can be. " He began pacing around, his chair discarded behind him now. “Igor, Viktor, Sasha.” He pointed at each of them individually as he divulged their names.

He gave himself a small satisfactory pump into the air at his success. He could tell he was correct by the little one on the lefts eyes growing slightly wider. It was just the start. As Peter continued on, he got tiny tidbits of information. Only when he presented to them what he knew. Which at this point was everything.

Names, date of births, addresses, spouses, children, education records, dental records, you name it, Peter had it. It still wasn’t enough to get them talking like how he wanted. Instead, Peter fell into the second part of his plan earlier than he had expected.

With seven toes, five fingers, three teeth, many beatings, and an ear, they were beginning to squeal. The leader, Igor, was suspended from the ceiling by his bound hands submerged in webbing. He was entirely nude, body cut up in ways that had blood spilling from him ferociously.

Viktor was webbed entirely to the floor, his entire body covered in fluid despite only one singular nostril. He was the one who cracked first which Peter expected after his reaction to his grandmothers home address in his tiny village in his home country. It was quickly discovered that he was mainly an action man, simply doing what he was told, not a mastermind of any sort.

The other one, Sasha, was who most of the beatings had gone towards once Viktor had divulged it was him who had mainly been the culprit in your beating. Webbed to the wall with no chance of escape, Peter mimicked all the injuries you had sustained on him and then some. Just missing a few fingers and toes now as well.

As the night drew to a close, Peter admired the work he had done. He wiped his gloved hands in a motion to signify he was wrapping up. They were hardly conscious enough at this point to understand what was happening to them. To understand the fate they had drawn themselves to.

There was just one final thing he needed to do. Grabbing the needle and thread he brought with him for tonight and tonight only, he walked slowly towards the nude man. “Did you know that I sew all of my suits? Crazy right! How in the world does he have the time to do this, you might ask. It’s a valid question, but you know what, if I took it to lets say a seamstress, I would be unbelievably broke. Not to mention, how does one drop off the Spider-Man suit without drawing suspicion. First world problems, am I right?”

The man didn’t respond, but as Peter pierced the needle into his skin, his yelp rang in Peter’s ears. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t be moving around now, you’ll make my stitches go all out of wack here.” Peter took his time, but as he finished he admired the handy work.

Sewn into the man chest was a letter of his own. Crafted just for them. A message curated specifically for their enjoyment.

“How time flies, boys. Suns coming up here shortly. Time for me to be heading out.” He smashed a window, ready to crawl out, but he remembered one final thing he needed to do. Walking back over to Igor, he pulled his head back by the hair on his scalp, making him look into the bug eyed mask.

The whimper that fell from the grown man was laughable to Peter. “If you or your dogs come near anyone I love again, our next visit will not be as enjoyable as this one. If you get out of here, I mean.” Tears fell from the corner of his eyes as Peter released his head to fall back into its resting position.

“See you later, guys! Make better choices!” He called out behind himself as he crawled out the window, webbing it shut behind him before making his way home to you.

It was the first time in months that Peter felt like he could breathe. Taking in the fresh morning air, just minutes before the sun began to peak on the horizon, signaling the arrival of a new day. His lungs expanded with the deep breath of air, wanting to sob at the weight removed from his shoulders.

As he made his way back into the apartment, he spotted you in bed. Still curled up in the comforter, sound asleep, none the wiser of his whereabouts the night before. The brusing getting less and less noticeable by the day.

When he crawled into bed next to you, he refused to fall asleep, not tired in the least. No, instead as the sun began to shine through the curtains, he watched you. Watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath, grateful you were taking those breaths.

Because Peter knew that it wasn’t long ago where those breaths weren’t guaranteed. Now, he counted each one, to make sure you were okay. Of course you were okay now. Peter just needed to make sure.

It wasn’t too long after when you began stirring, eyes blinking open to see his golden eyes staring down at you with the softest gaze Peter had ever had. “Morning,” you mumbled, he whispered it back to you.

“You sleep okay?” He asked, to which you nodded, asking him the same. “Of course I did.” You smiled, getting up and ready to start your day.

You just needed to pretended you didn’t see the bruises adorning his knuckles. “What’s for breakfast?”

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roaron · 11 months

Text

╰┈➤ you don’t love me, satoru

╰┈➤ (gojo x reader)

╰┈➤ genre -> hurt/comfort ? + angst (angst -> fluff ?)

warnings -> ☆ (meeting with toji, sexual themes, manipulation, profanities and swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of prostitution.)

╰┈➤ 2k words

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Sunsets gleam perfectly through my window, its beams of sunlight giving me a shimmering orange glow. My slightly parted lips exhaling hot breaths as the sun bores into my eyes, its beauty blinding me, stripping away my sight. Just as you do, Satoru. When you go away, i still see you. I see you in the sun that rises and falls each day. I see you in the supple glow of the stars, and i see you in blinding sunsets. My eyes begin to water, its lustrous light hurting me, i look away and stare into nothing, the image of you, or more accurately, the sunset, still imprinted on my retinas.

I spend my days staring at the sun, letting it hurt me. Letting you hurt me, letting you make me cry. Allowing for your bright attracting light to be the cause for my loss of sight. Day after day, i let you burn me, until one day, i look away for good, allowing my mind to consume and realise that the sun isn't everything. There is night. Pitch black night. A time of day where you're unable to shine. A time of day where i met 'him'. I man equally as blinding as you, just without the unforgettably painful burn you possess.

"Satoru ?" I stride into the shared apartment, calling out for my boyfriends name, looking left and right as i explore the empty rooms, no sign of his presence. I sigh and walk over to the bedroom shared between me and him. The bedroom he never sleeps in anymore. An unmade bed sits in the middle of the room and my belongings lay scattered on the floor, my bed a mess and several small plush toys lay messily on my crumpled bed sheets. All the toys previously gifted to me by Satoru, symbols of our love. They all look incredibly dirty and unkempt, mirroring our current affairs. I make a mental note to throw them in the wash later, i make another mental note that i should definitely stop lying to myself.

I undress and put on a robe, covering myself lazily and crawling onto the bed, positioning myself comfortably, my back against the headboard, my legs crossed and my phone laying in my lap, waiting to be used. I let out another long and tired sigh, missing the companionship of another living breathing person, no person in particular, just a person. I lift up my phone from my lap and plug in my earphones, connecting the two and opening up my phone, putting on some music to help ease the gaping hole in my heart. Tears threaten to fall, my mind fully aware of the loneliness I brush off as the selfish desire for attention from my partner. Perfectly logical and yet as he says "unnecessarily clingy." I close everything off and let the music take effect, just as a drug would, my eyes flutter closed. Unaware of my surroundings.

No longer than 20 minutes pass when i'm shaken out of my trance, my eyes open and i scan the room before they land on someone. "Satoru." i say nonchalantly, no tenderly laced love in my tone. No love left to give. Satoru looks at me, his eyes vibrant and yet so lazy as he stares at me. "Didn't you hear me come in ?" he complains and i ignore him. A common theme in our relationship dynamic. Ignoring and ignorance. I stare straight at him, our eyes linked and communication with the use of vocal words deemed unnecessary, our pupils saying all we wish to say with words. He lunges forward and presses his lips against mine, desperation evident in his body language as he grasps at my robe, tearing it off and chucking its remains over the side of the bed. I have no words, i never do. I just give him a lazy nod, a sign of acceptance and allow him to do as he pleases. As i always seem to do.

"Sometimes i wonder if you even give a shit about me." i say calmly. My knees to my chest and my arms around myself as i look straight ahead into nothingness. Satoru looks up from his phone and gives me a bored look "Not this again, seriously Y/n. we just had sex, what more do you want ?" he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "you don't love me, Satoru." i reply, my voice almost a whisper as i continue staring ahead, my mind running wild as i feel my eyes mist up. Satoru notices this. Satoru notices everything. He stares at me, emotionless and blank faced before he goes back to his phone, confirming nor denying my statement. He simply continues doing whatever it is he does on his phone, something enjoyable enough to erupt a slight smirk on his lips. The same smirk he offers women. I get off the bed and get dressed, throwing on whatever it is i could find before unhooking a coat from behind the door and putting it on, leaving the bedroom and leaving the house without a word from Satoru.

I walk out into the night, my hands deep in the pockets of my coat as I wander the dark streets with my head low, my eyes glued to the floor. Clearly distressed, unnoticed by anyone as the midnight streets remain clear, naturally. I walk for about 30 minutes, into a park and onto a lone bench. I sit myself down and close my legs, containing myself to only a small section of the bench. My shaky slow breaths coming out as cold smoke, frosted and misty. The nights comforting chill circulating around me as i huddle on the wooden bench. My mind frazzled as i sit alone.

I embrace the setting, the moons shining surface reflecting on the streetlights everlasting glow. I look down at the floor momentarily before looking back up and noticing an obstruction from my view of the moon. A tall and brooding man with messy hair and a prominent scar which is seen violently standing out over the corner of his lips. His eyes dark as the night that surrounds us. He opens his mouth and a deep voice is fittingly met to match his manly face "It's late, why're you alone ?" he asks, his face neutral and yet oddly attentive. I blink and raise an eyebrow "that's a creepy sentence." i respond and he gives me a smirk, contorting the scar on his lip slightly. He points to the spot beside me on the bench and i nod a little too willingly. He sits down beside me with a grunt.

We sit in silence momentarily before he speaks again, his raspy voice making my ears prick up. "You got a name ?" he asks and i respond, my voice oddly low "Y/n. you ?" "Toji. just Toji." he specifies and i snicker "your family shunned you or something ?" i joke. "Something like that." he grunts in response, chuckling at my comment. We make comfortable small talk for a while. i find out certain things about him and he finds out my reason for being on a bench so late at night. "an argument with your boyfriend huh" Toji says with his common grunt, shrugging before slouching further into the bench. i nod and look at the floor, the urge to open up consumes me and i look to my side, my eyes meeting Tojis as i continue staring at the strange man seated beside me, giving him a pleading look before he lets out an exasperated sigh and nods "go on." he groans and i smile.

I explain all the details about me and Satoru, about our relationship. His behaviour, his constant disappearing. His lack of communication. His constant flirty smirking at his phone. The fees that come out of his account leading to purchases made at a strip club. The lies. His past relationships. His history of cheating. His old player lifestyle. Toji stares at me stunned, his mouth agape as he listens to me intently. "what a shitty guy" Toji says as he scratches his hair a little at my open confession of my boyfriends mistreatment. "yeah.." i respond, staring back at the ground and feeling myself getting teary eyed. I clamp my hands together and hold a clear frown of my face, the street light somehow making my features appear beautiful. Toji notices this. Toji notices everything. The night drags on.

I stand up from the bench at last and stretch my legs, letting out a yawn and checking the time on my phone, it reads '02:33am'. I sigh and open my phone to see several missed calls from Satoru. My eyes widen and i look to Toji who shrugs. I grumble at him and turn back to my phone, staring at the several missed calls, counting them up and coming to a result. 16 missed calls. "hey Toji, i think im gonna go back home." i continue staring at the phone in my shaky hands. Toji grunts and spreads his legs even more on the bench, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before placing it at his lips.

I stand still, frozen and confused. Toji smokes his cigarette and watches me intently. His eyes scanning me from top to bottom, a glint appears in his eyes, it's faint but evident. He scratches his chin and continues staring at me. I turn around, finally ready to speak but his face turns away immediately, as if he's hiding something. I tilt my head at his reaction, puzzled as he continues to face away from me. "Thanks for everything Toji, i'm gonna go now.." i speak up and Toji simply grunts, seemingly uninterested in my words however his jittery thigh gives him away. I smile softly at the man who i'd spent about 3 hours conversing with. My heart melts and i approach him, standing in front of him and opening my arms. He gives me a questionable look before standing up and hugging me. "You're like the best friend i never had." i say softly and he chuckles, squeezing me tightly before letting go and giving me his best attempt at a smile, not a smirk or a grin, a smile. He looks awful but it's the thought that counts. I give him a playful salute before turning away and making my way back to the apartment i share with Satoru, my head held high.

I walk back to the apartment and walk inside, i'm immediately met with Satoru running to me the second he hears the door open. Before i can say a word my boyfriend speaks "i do love you..." he utters and the waterworks break, i begin to sob and he stares at me wide eyed. Opening his arms and holding my crying figure, hushing me and cooing sweet words into my ears, the first time he's done that in months. "but.. you cheated on me.. your card." i stutter over my words, clearly talking about the strip club fees coming from his card on most nights. He freezes and chuckles softly, holding me in his arms and kissing my temple, "baby, a friend of mine is a fan of that kinda stuff so i pay for him to go... i would never cheat on you." he lies with a soft smile and in a state of weakness, i believe him. He chants how much he loves me in my ears, petting my hair and whispering sweet words to soothe me.

He carries me bridal style to bed, his soft face looking down at me with care. I smile up at him and nuzzle against his warm chest before he places me gently on the bed, pulling the covers over me and kissing my forehead before he turns to leave. "Satoru.. where are you going ?" i ask softly, having the idea in my head that we'd hold each other tenderly and fall asleep together. "Just to the kitchen to get a snack, i'll be right back.. have some rest my love." he responds, kissing me softly on my forehead once more before leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him. I smile and sink into the covers, believing him with my whole heart. My love for the man is deafening. So much so that i fail to hear the front door open and close, the soft sound of clicking heels entering the apartment.

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