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static-fanatic-1 · 3 years

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Hello, I hope you are doing well today. I was wondering if I can get a semi-angst hc of Pakunoda, Illumi, Milluki, Silva, Chrollo, Kurapika and Shalnark + Setsuno, Overhaul, Chronostasis, Tamaki, Endeavor, Shinsou, Aizawa and Shiggaraki with a s/o who hates them, but once their children gets kidnapped they beg and cry to the boys/girls to find their child and bring them safely home. Hopes that makes sense. Please and thank you.

Pakunoda:

She hates seeing you in pain, in ANY pain, so this doesn’t sit well with her at all. It hurts that you hate her, but to her it doesn’t matter as much as her undying love for you. She is sweet, and she knows despite keeping you captive, you are cared for. This includes your and her child. She will tear the world to shreds with her lovely heels.

She will be more methodical in ending whoever took her child, and no harm will come to the sweet baby. She will not use this against you in anyway, she would rather you love her naturally. So when da baby is returned, she won’t tease you or ask for something in return. She just wants to comfort you both and tell you everything is okay now.

Illumi:

Like Paku, Illumi cares about both of you, just in a really different way. He “loves” his kids more as a tool and as a successor to his lineage, not like he loves you. So when his kid is taken, there will be hell to pay.

He doesn’t really think much on the fact you are begging him, though it is a nice change to your typical screaming. He won’t brag, boast, or use it against you, for the most part anyway. He might be robotic, but he still is smart. He will keep your children in mind next time you try anything too risky.

Milluki:

He doesn’t care about his kids, they are spoiled little shits in his eyes. He probably didn’t really want kids in the first place, but one thing led to another and here they are now. So when they are taken, he sees it as an inconvenience, but also an opportunity once he sees how distraught you are.

He makes it into a big deal and boasts about how only HE can save your kids. HE is the only reason you will get your little babies back. And don’t worry, he will make sure you inderstand that. He will ALWAYS use this against you at any moment of any day. He wants you to know you need him.

Silva:

He doesn’t care about your kids, to him they are an end to a means, and another way to keep you with him. So as much as he knows his kids can take care of themselves, or at least he wants them to be independent through whatever means, seeing you hurt makes him take initiative. You are devistated, fine, he’ll save your kids.

Silva makes quick work of whoever took your kids, and makes sure to savor it. Once he’s done, he lets you take a moment to be happy for your kids being safe, but don’t expect to be in the clear. You will have to give him something in return, and knowing his sex drive, you probably wouldn’t like it. But your kids are safe, so everything is fine, right?

Chrollo:

Like Silva, Chrollo doesn’t care about your kids. A means to an end, to keep you locked with him. Though, he really does care about you, so he will do anything to make you happy.

This means getting that little bundle of attention-stealing-shitness back. Anything for you to get on his good graces. Besides, he has the whole troupe that loves the kid, so they will all pitch in to find the little one. I don’t think he will use this against you, mainly because you should already knows nothing will get between the two of you, not even your child.

Shalnark:

Shalnark is a strange one, to me he seems like a mix between Chrollo and Pakunoda. He cares, a lot, but if anything was to come between you and him, he wouldn’t mind making a point. Still, seeing you in so much emotional pain makes him jump into action.

He calls up his best friends to help find the poor sap who took his and your kid. Yeah, they won’t last long. Shal takes great care in handling the little one to make sure they aren’t too scared. He also spends a lot of down time after to bond with the both of you. Maybe this wasn’t a good thing to you, but to him it only brought you closer together.

Kurapika:

Really big family man, whoever took your kid must have been the most stupid person to walk the earth. He is defiantly on your side with getting his kid back, so he won’t use this against you as much as the others might. Instead of bragging or boasting about how you need him to keep you safe, he will want a little something in return.

He might be on your side, desperately wanting his kid back, but he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to get a little treat from you. He will manipulate you to feel guilty, like it was somehow your fault, just to get something from you. Wether it be some bonding time, or something more suggestive, he will get it through manipulation. Of course he’d love to bond some more with your kids after he retrieves them, just don’t think you are safe around Kurapika.

Setsuno:

This poor guy had a terrible relationship before you, so there is no way in hell he would let what happened before happen again. He hates the fact you hate him, but he refrains from hurting you in anyway, this includes your kid. He will leave the room, break things, anything other than touching you and both of your kid.

When someone takes the baby, you aren’t the only one pissed off. Setsuno is furious, so he will do anything to get your kid back. He calls his friends just in case, and the three of them destroy whoever laid hands on his baby. Setsuno is happy to have everyone together again and he’ll take this time to bond with the both of you. Just don’t push him away or else he’ll remind you who saved your kid.

Overhaul:

Overhaul finds children to be dirty, they are nasty things that need so much attention. With that being said, to an extent, he treasures his kid. He wants them to be just like him, so he takes his time to teach them everything there is to know about ruling the underground. Again, his kid is an end to a means, but he does think of them a bit more than most of the others on this list.

When he kid is taken, he is frustrated for a few reasons. One is because he taught his kid to use their quirk (if they are old enough to have it by now), and two because he has to waste his time trying did of dirty things. Though, seeing you beg for him to save your baby makes it more worth his time. Much better than when you grit your teeth and turn the other way. So when he gets the baby back, he makes sure you understand what he went through to appease you.

Chronostasis:

Another one that actually likes his children and treasures them. Chronostasis is more of a family man, taking care of the children, getting groceries, the usual stuff to help around the house while you are there. He doesn’t keep you stuck, he just uses his profession to threaten you. But other than that he acts like a normal father when he doesn’t have work to do.

Taking his child is a really bad thing. He values work a lot, so he will put work first, so he will only leave to find his kid once overhaul gives him the go. He might get help, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He will tear anyone apart to find your baby. When he does, he brings them home and smiles at you, taking as much time as he is given to comfort the both of you. Everything can go back to normal now, just ignore the spots of blood on the bottom of his white jacket.

Tamaki:

Such a shy guy, he doesn’t do much to your hatred against him, he kinda just lets it happen while apologizing profusely. Though he doesn’t let you go. He does, genuinely, love his kid. In a way it gives him a sense of pride that he helped create such a beautiful baby. So when they go missing, and you grip his shirt and beg for him to find them. Tamaki is relieved you finally need him, but so frustrated at the same time.

He wants to sulk and cry through his frustration at loosing his kid, but your begging doesn’t allow that. Instead he asks his besties for help and makes sure to hurry. He’s so happy to get his baby back he can’t help the tears of joy falling from his face. When he comes back home you both cry and hold your baby as close as you possibly can.

Shinsou:

I think Shinsou has an inner demon when he is a Yandere, this is when it shows itself. He loves his kid, and is a really relaxed guy when it comes to the both of you. It’s just when his patience is pulled by someone out of his obsessive behaviors is when it becomes a problem.

He goes on his own, after all he is a hero not many know about, and his ability is insanely powerful. He will find the people resposible and tell them to “jump off this building” or “go kill yourself”. Things that will force them to get their hands dirty and stay away from his kid. He comforts his kid, tells them everything is okay now and that the two of them are going home to see you. Y’all can all watch a movie too, get take out and simply take it easy.

Aizawa:

He is almost exactly like Shinsou, or Shinsou is almost exactly Aizawa. The biggest difference is Aizawa has less patience, and isn’t afraid to get a little sadistic. With that said, you are more likely better “behaved”, though you still have some fight in you. Your kid is one of your joys in life, so when he comes home from work and sees you begging for your baby back, he’s happy.

He goes on his own and takes out whoever was involved. He doesn’t kill, he isn’t that reckless, but he definalty beats them to a bloody pulp until the police arrive. He does the paperwork, and then happily takes back his kid. Aizawa will make sure you know he did this for you and he will make sure you only think that. He loves his kid, a lot, but if you think you owe him more love, then that’s a win for him.

Endeavor:

Enji thinks his kids are weapons, I mean, that’s obvious right? He does care, but more as it would be a waste if something bad were to happen to them. Also, they are keeping you stuck with him. So yeah, when they are taken he gets pretty pissed about it.

Enji kinda rubs it in your face too, I mean you are begging for his help. You NEED him to save your kid. He won’t tell you he would get them back either way either, he wants you to think you owe him. So expect listening to whatever demands he wants from you. Not much time to appreciate your baby being safe.

Shigiraki:

Crusty man actually kinda likes his kid. In a way it’s like he has a distaste for them but can’t help but have a connection with them at the same time. Even Shigiraki doesn’t think he would be too distressed if something happened to his kid, but he was wrong. He takes it personally, and your begging makes him even more pissed. How dare they?!

Shigiraki makes a huge deal out of it, the entire league (those close) will be involved to cause chaos to the idiot who hurt his kid. It will be all on the news, how much carnage he caused, but not a single person will know it was because of his kid. He will boast about how he defeated the final boss for you and his kid, and he expects you to reward him. After you reward his efforts he will relax with the two of you, taking in the warmth from your love.

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

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Reanimate

Characters: Ganyu, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,930

Warnings: Character death, violence

Premise: There is something cruel in the sudden death of a loved one, especially one who should’ve gone on so much longer. And yet perhaps that is not the cruelest twist of fate. Perhaps death is sometimes a small mercy.

In which the reader returns as a member of the Abyss.

Author’s Note: I decided to give archons ichor-like blood just because. Also sorry I did my best to be ruthless, I hope I didn’t get too carried away

Ganyu

In all the thousands of years of her existence Ganyu had never received the answer to the question of her humanity. Which pieces of her were adeptal and which were mortal? It was a foolish question perhaps, but something that had haunted her, almost as much as you.

She’d received a sort of answer one day, though not one given but rather one snatched away. It was a little time after your passing, when Ganyu still couldn’t discern the nightmares of her sleep from the memories of her waking moments. She was laying up on the peak of Mount Hulao, wondering why the sun should be shining up in the sky, when the familiar lilt of Cloud Retainer’s voice traveled up to her ears. There had been more adepti frequenting her abode than usual, all peering over the mountain, making sure their ward did not drown herself in sorrow. Ganyu didn’t know who Cloud Retainer was talking to now, but her words were as clear as ever.

“Poor darling, she was born with the heart of a human after all.”

At the time Ganyu had felt almost affronted, as if some great wrong had been laid at her feet. Yet even as there had been anger there was also curiosity. What did it mean then, to have a human heart? Perhaps there was weakness in it, but it seemed there was also privilege. For even as she curled around herself, bleeding out from some invisible wound, she could still picture your smiling face, and the happiness she’d gleaned from it.

Now this picture swam in her head once more, floating in stark contrast to the image now in front of her.

You had returned, how in Teyvat had you returned? Ganyu knew the ways of the world, knew that half-adepti could be killed. Had she not experienced proof of this when you’d died? Had the demon which stood upon your corpse, laughing at the blood coating his hands, not shown Ganyu that even those blessed with immortal age could not escape the wrath of the world? How could you be standing here in front of her now then, as alive as you’d been those thousands of years before?

Though perhaps you weren’t alive, perhaps this was simply a trick of the Abyss. For there was no light in your eyes, no flicker of recognition in regards to the person you’d once pledged your soul too. Ganyu was bewildered, glancing this way and that at the heralds surrounding you. “What have you done to them?” She pleaded, voice barely audible. “What monster did you create?”

And yet she couldn’t bring herself to harm you, to take up her weapon as she had done so many times before. If the Abyss was tricking her than the likeness was impressive. Your attack patterns were familiar, an old dance that Ganyu had learned so long ago. You stabbed this way and that, as if Ganyu was being attacked by a needle rather than a sword. And yet she still could remember the dance, and had only a scratch on her arm. She’d always chastised you that your form was too artistic.

“Why don’t you remember me?” She now turned to you, ignoring the Heralds which lay frozen upon the ground, having no qualms in their destruction. You narrowed your eyes in response to her callings, seeming as mute to her entreaties as you had been to your name. Did you even remember it?

Ganyu jumped back as you once more aimed to stab her. Unfortunately it seemed as if you had learned somewhat from this fight, or perhaps just retained the memory of the sparring the two of you had often shared. Stretching out from your lowered position you rammed your back into Ganyu, causing her to topple to the floor. Flames coated your sword, which you now pointed at the pinned half-adeptus. Ganyu’s eyes widened, as panic truly began to run through her. Once more she called out to you.

“Stop.”

“What?” Ganyu watched as your arm faltered and your face contorted itself into a frown. You narrowed your eyes, breath coming faster now.

“Stop saying that name!”

“But it is yours.”

“It is the name given to me by a liar. It is the name of a weakling.”

“It is the name of the person I love.” Ganyu knew she should be running, should be taking advantage of your weakness. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to pull herself away, desperate in the hope you might return to her.

“That person died thousands of years ago.”

“And yet they’re standing right in front of me.”

“Thanks to those who the gods would destroy. Thanks to those who understand the true nature of this world.”

“And what is that?” Ganyu felt her voice falter, shocked by the venom in your words.

“Cruelty. The cruelty of the gods. They betray humanity, betray that which they’re sworn to protect. They’re nothing but fickle creatures, no more than beasts. The only thing they truly love is their own superiority.”

“You’re wrong. You know you’re wrong. You… you love the gods.”

“How could I love such monsters? You’re deluding yourself. Deluding yourself as you always did. You were always too soft… Ganyu.”

As if reinvigorated you took a deep breath. Taking a few steps forward you loomed over Ganyu. She couldn’t help but notice your eyes, how glassy they seemed to be. For a moment she was so seized by them she barely registered the sword raised above her head.

Yet the practice which had led her out of the darkness of your death now refused to let you take her life. Rolling over Ganyu jolted as your blade came crashing down into the stone right next to her ear. Running back towards the exist of the lair in which she’d found herself Ganyu foundered one last time.

“Come with me. There are so many who miss you. Cloud Retainer and Moon Carver and Madame Ping. Come back with me. We can go see the statue they’ve created of Skybracer for the Lantern Rite, I know how much you liked the festival.”

“I’d rather die again than be a traitor to humanity. You’re part human yourself. And yet you bow and scrape at the feet of tyrants.”

“And aren’t you also part adeptus?” Ganyu felt tears pooling at the corners of their eyes, their salty warmth stinging her frigid skin. “I wish you’d taken my hand.”

“And I wish you and the rest of the traitors would just die!”

“So be it.”

Ganyu tried not to remember the scream that pierced your throat as your leg buckled, tried not to think of the blood that pooled where her arrow had lodged itself at the top of your knee, droplets landing in icy circles on the barren ground where she herself had just been lying. Instead she ran, ran out of the domain, ran away from the person who had once brought her such joy.

The moon outside was a smiling crescent, its light casting a cold shade on the trees around her. The stars which seemed so far away were now hunters, she was their prey. She plunged through the scraggly forest, desperate to reach the safety of Jueyun Karst. The sky seemed to be burning away, or perhaps swallowing up the world. Finally a familiar mountain ridge was spotted, and Ganyu let out a cry of relief. She was halfway to the top when the darkness descended and the night swallowed her whole.

Ganyu dreamed. Or perhaps she did not dream. Perhaps she simply remembered. The wind rustled her hair, and the faint sound of a flute echoed in the air. She lay on your lap now, smiling sleepily as you recounted some odd experience, expression one of soft, sedate joy.

“I’d never truly met a pilgrim before. They were quite unlike what I expected. The poor man, he nearly fell over in his attempt to bow as low as he possibly could. I told him that there was no need, that I wasn’t important enough for that, but then he only seemed surprised when I talked. Perhaps he expected some divine wisdom, although according to you I might only be able to offer him a somewhat incomprehensible account of the Archon War, since my mother saw approximately half of it.”

“Still, you must have made him very happy.” Ganyu smiled up at you as you twisted your expression into one of exaggerated solemness.

“Perhaps you are right. For what are we but being to give our souls to the happiness of humanity? Although I must admit that I have already pledged mine elsewhere.”

“And where might that be?”

“How silly of you to ask Ganyu! Honestly, you’re becoming quite forgetful. Why, it’s right there, in your heart.”

“Y-you shouldn’t say that.” Ganyu stammered, a familiar blush dusting soft warmth over the bridge of her nose. You merely laughed, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. Your lips tasted of lazy summer sun, and Ganyu found all embarrassment replaced with a sense of utter contentment.

“Why not? It’s the truth. And it will always be the truth.”

“Even when you and I have turned into enemies?” This surely was no longer a memory.

“Even then. For in my heart you will never be anything but my beloved. And don’t you forget it.”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What a foolish thing to say Ganyu. Of course you know! You always will.”

“I… I love you.”

“I love you too. Always.”

When she awoke the half-adeptus gave herself up to the small luxury of crying. She knew that she couldn’t stay here, knew that there was work to be done, the work she’d promised to the people of Liyue. Yet even as she told herself to get up Ganyu continued to cry, to sob as if in great pain.

For indeed what is more painful than the sudden, utter shattering of one’s heart?

Zhongli

Throughout the millennia of his existence, throughout all the changes that had been wrought on the former geo archon, Zhongli could feel at least a little bit grateful to time.

Time had been kind to the archon, for it had let him retain all those things that mattered. He could still recall the soft tones of Guizhong, the excitement as she explained some new contraption; he could recall the way that the familiar tones of a flute once echoed throughout the canyons of Liyue, the call of an adeptus who was still young and untethered to the sins of others; and, if he focused but for a moment, he could still recall the look of surprise on your face, the exclamations of protest, and the soft smile that brightened your expression as you finally reached out to take the glaze lily from him.

How he missed you, you his most perfect half. It seemed so long ago, and yet so painfully close, the day you two had met. You were a minor deity, formed for the benefit of humanity, made incarnate by the prayers of those early inhabitants of Liyue who could not simply lock their doors to keep the dangers of the world out. You had been an odd deity, the combination both of hope and suffering; the longing for peace combined with the knowledge that such a thing was unlikely.

“It’s very odd, being a deity born of human hope.” You’d commented once. You’d joined Zhongli to look out upon the sunset, climbing a mountain that would one day be dwarfed by the pillars that would spring up after the last of the Archon War.

“I should not see why it would be any different than any other deity. After all, we all live to give to humanity in some way.” You’d shook your head at his response.

“Zhongli, you weren’t made from humanity. Even if the people of Liyue foundered, even if they moved or lost faith in you or no longer needed a geo archon, you would live on. We who are born from humanity, we will fade if we are forgotten, if human prayers no longer reach us.”

“I doubt there will be a scarcity of the need for hope anytime soon. Alas the dangers of the world are not yet gone.”

“Perhaps not, but one day humans will be able to fight and hope for themselves. And then who knows where we lesser deities will be.”

Your odd conversation had worried Zhongli at the time. Not because he truly believed that you would disappear, no he had too much faith for that, or perhaps too much love. No, it was the way you had said it, as if you had resigned yourself to some terrible fate. He’d held you closer for the next few days, as if to remind you that you indeed existed, as if to assure himself that he would not have to lose another person who he held within his heart.

The death of Havria had been a shock, but Zhongli could tell you were more shaken than he was. For some time, the amount Zhongli could never calculate, you had said little, withdrawing into yourself. Old shadows had reared their ugly heads again, and now you seem at their mercy, drowning in your own self-imposed prophecy.

“My love, do not fear your own disappearance. You are not like Havria, you have no one who might betray you.”

“It’s not that Zhongli. It’s… it’s just the reminder of how fickle humans are.” You sighed, eyes fixed not on the archon sitting in front of you but on some unseen horizon. “Gods are fickle, they always have been. But that’s what you expect, and you cannot hold it against them. Humans on the other hand, humans are supposed to be static, even as they grow their faith is seen as assured. It’s… uncomfortable, a reminder that such an assumption has no real basis except one of hubris. Who else might fall at the hands of those they protected.”

“Not you. I could not imagine them harming you. You are their incarnation of hope after all, of the human will to survive. And no human can live without the will to survive. Besides my love, last I checked you had rejected the chance at a domain.”

“And leave you? Of course I did.” Your tone was indulgent, but the smile that passed your face was distracted. “I hope that I won’t meet death in such a way. I thought to be forgotten was the cruelest fate, but perhaps it’s not; perhaps the cruelest fate is to be betrayed by the ones you love. How much Havria must’ve suffered in her final moments.”

“But you will not meet either of those fates my love, I promise it.”

Zhongli had ended up being right, as neither of those paths were to be the one you walked. The one placed in front of you was perhaps one you would’ve approved of, though Zhongli could never truly bring himself to accept that. When the Qingce had threatened the quiet settlements which grew out of the harbor you’d come to the aid of humanity. In a manner that felt much too passive in Zhongli’s mind you met your fate. What was the emotion of your final moments? Zhongli could never find it in him to delve into that question. He could barely find it in himself to think of you at first, drowning his sorrows in the blood he spilt to ensure the continuation of Liyue, and then in the millennia of his rule afterwards. Even his tears had seemed distant, as if they were wetting the face of another person, someone very far away and very different than he was.

There were reports of a disturbance in the Guili Plains, of the agitation of Ruin Guards, and of whispers of the Abyss. Zhongli realized that it was no longer his duty to look into such things, that his resignation of the post of Geo Archon also relieved him of the duties of scouting the plains of Liyue for such dangers. Yet just because the stipulations of a contract have shifted does not mean the contract no longer exists. Zhongli’s duty to protect Liyue remained. He was not perhaps a deity from humanity, but he was destined to protect it nonetheless.

The domain that he’d managed to find was oppressing, the atmosphere tense. It made Zhongli think of older times, though not so long ago. It made him think of a razed city after the smoke had cleared, though this location was sure to be crawling with enemies. A pity there were no allies to fight alongside him now.

And yet you had somehow managed to follow him here, somehow managed to appear once more, after a millennia of buried loss. Upon entering the chamber in which you stood Zhongli could do nothing but stop in his tracks. You had appeared. Somehow, despite your death, despite the years, despite the fact that you’d never known the Abyss in your long ago existence, you were now here. Zhongli felt dazed, mind clouded, limbs made of stone. He made no effort to move, not when your eyes lit up in grim, impersonal recognition; not when an all too familiar claymore appeared in yours hands, not when you lunged forward and geo-infused steel slammed into his shoulder.

Zhongli knew something was wrong, knew that he must’ve made a mistake a some point in his long, drawn out existence. Whatever it was he couldn’t piece it together, could barely continue to stare at you as your weapon battered him over and over again. Blood was sticking to his gloves, his shoulder, his neck; small golden trickles opening up every time you swung your claymore. He knew he should fight back, knew that this wasn’t truly you, could not be truly you. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to fight back, to harm even an illusion of the person he once loved.

Eventually he found himself slumped against a wall, eyes still gazing up at you in mute entreaty. He hadn’t tried to call for you yet, hadn’t yet attempted to break the spell washed over you. The words stuck in his throat, those lovely words that belonged to you. He could not fight and he could not call out. Instead he sat there, frozen, heart beating erratically as he tried to find the ground beneath him.

“You’re a surprisingly abysmal fighter, Morax.” The voice was yours but the words weren’t; you would never call him such a thing. Perhaps it was that which finally enabled him to speak.

“And you have changed in a millennia”

“I learned of your treachery, of the crimes you committed when I was gone. Of the people you slaughtered.”

“I do not know what spell they cast to bring you back in such a state, but you cannot believe what you have been told. My love, since when did you mindless follow the rules of others?”

“Mindlessly?” You barked out a laugh, though it sounded almost like a cry to Zhongli’s ears. “The only time I mindlessly followed someone was when I was with you. You tricked me, you lied to me. You pretended to care, only to betray my existence the moment I was gone. Morax, the god of Liyue. What sort of god slaughters people for attempting to create a civilization just as he once did?”

“You were not there for the life of Khaenri’ah. You do not know what took place.”

“I doubt I needed to be there to understand the facts. You betrayed humanity Morax. Do you not deserve to pay for such a crime?”

“Zhongli.”

“What?”

“You used to refer to me as Zhongli.” At that moment the ex-archon pulled himself up. Standing up he managed a smile, though inside he felt as if he were fracturing. “If your anger must be removed in such a way, so be it. Take it all out on me. But, when your rage has finally been spent, please come back to the light. This place, it is too dark for you.”

“My rage can only be quenched in death.”

“So be it.”

Zhongli was not sure how long you hacked away at him, claymore swinging in a wide arc as the future scars which Zhongli would wear multiplied. His clothes were in shreds at this point, his coat barely clinging on to the semblance of what it was made to be. The metal which he wore was stained a rusty golden color, and his shirt was now damp with blood and sweat.

Perhaps this was his rightful punishment, the result of having ruled Liyue too long, having grown too old. Perhaps you truly did hate him now, having somehow reincarnated into a being of pure wrath. Perhaps he’d somehow meet his end here, and perhaps then you would be waiting for him, you and all the ones he’d lost, restored to your former selves.

And yet another part of him knew that he was tethered to his contract, to the promise to protect the citizens who now bustled about, enjoying their newfound freedom. And that part of him knew that this could not truly be you. Even if the Abyss had managed to coax your body and soul from the other side they’d only managed to bring back a shadow. A shadow could never replace you, for it knew none of you complexities. It could only haunt those around it, in hope to be paid the same amount of attention.

It was this knowledge that allowed him to fight back, even as he willed himself not to hurt you. Claymore met polearm, and the ground seemed to shake around the both of you. If any other members of the Abyss had managed to rouse themselves within this time they were almost assuredly crawling away, for surely the structure would fall at any moment. But Zhongli cared not for this fact; the walls could crumble around the two of you for all he cared. There was nothing else in the world, only you, the weapon in his hand, and the contract in his heart.

Finally you began to falter, the energy you’d contain slowly draining away. Slowly Zhongli began to regain the upper hand, beating you back into the edges of the abode. Finally at one point you slipped, and Zhongli found himself kneeling over you, polearm planted into the ground, barely grazing your cheek.

“If you have truly been brought back to life, then I beg you not to throw such a thing away on the revenge of those who never knew you.”

“I won’t listen to your disgusting lies any longer!”

“You loved me once, do you not remember that?”

“How could anyone truly love a tyrant?”

Zhongli sighed, but his hands were trembling violently. He knew it wasn’t you, that it could not truly be you. And if it was, then Zhongli was ready to pay the price in suffering.

Contracts were the most sacred concept of Liyue. One must abide by them, whether it benefits them personally or not. Though he was no longer Liyue’s god, Zhongli was no less tied to those promises he’d made. This was his price, the price of power and influence, the price of his continued existence.

“When time has run its course and the world of the gods comes crashing down, I will see you again.”

He did not expect your blood to run red.

#genshin impact fanfiction #ganyu x reader #zhongli x reader #ganyu #zhongli #genshin impact #requested #scenarios #my writing

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secretaryunpaid · 3 years

Text

When you’re destructive as hell, but have so much love to give...

The joys of growing up...

Fandom: Choices - The Nanny Affair 1 & 2

Prompts #: 1, 3, 17, 18

Rating: Teen/Mature

Warnings: loneliness, sadness, emotional trauma. talk of death

Word Count: 825

Summary: Dahlia develops serious anxiety over the changes in her life. Her life changes dramatically when her sister Riley decides to pursue the heart of a Prince in a small European country. Will college be the experience that molds her into the person she expected to be?

Dahlia Schuyler was an adventurous spirit, living with her Grandma Addie, feeling beyond loved... Not thinking it strange that she lived with her grandmother, while her older sister lived with their parents... She never even questioned why her last name was Schuyler, and Riley’s last name was Brooks...

She would have time with Riley on special weekends that were planned to make sure they kept their bond. All she knew was that she idolized her big sister, and ascribed to Riley her dedication be someone she would be proud of.

She didn’t make friends easily, often teased for being weird because she loved to quote random facts that were way too advanced for the crowd she found herself trying to become a part of... This often led to her pulling pranks that was borderline dangerous... most of which she’d gotten away with until she pulled a prank on the Principal’s daughter and was caught before she could destroy the evidence...

You would think that the Chemistry set her grandmother had proudly given to her would be appreciated... And it may have, if Dahlia hadn’t mixed an explosive concoction that permanently stained Alicia Nicholson’s hair a bright shade of orange ... and we aren’t talking the result of being a natural ginger... We are talking punk rock and beyond!

She would often find herself in the girl’s locker room trying to find the proper look, and mimicking the advice that Riley had given her... Too shy to actually go through with it. Also, she’d be all too proud of herself for having gotten her silent paybacks on many of those who had teased her.

After her last prank on unsuspecting Alicia, it would take her instructors to convince Principal Nicholson that Dahlia was just too brilliant and unchallenged with their level of education offered. Their plea for her not to be expelled from the school system, but recommended for college placement, was the only thing that saved this little genius from becoming less than what she’d promised her sister and grandmother she would aspire to be, a world renowned Biochemist.

But her life would change instantly once her capabilities were discovered... She’d go from a world with kids her age not understanding her to a world where she could be understood, but full of mature people she would become overpoweringly intrigued by... College life !!!

Riley taught her all about laying her edges, about makeup and fashion, and gave her a brief talk about “the birds and the bees”. Grandma Addie was no longer that loving force always in her corner... She had passed on, and Riley felt like the only person that she had left. She was headed to Princeton at fifteen...

She wasn’t prepared for the emotional and physical changes that being in college would bring... But her brilliance had placed her at this level... Who knew that being a genius would handicap you so badly?

“Riley, do you have to go to this ... Cordonia? “I need you.”

“I’m with you, you know that.” Riley attempts to calm Dahlia’s growing fears as she hugs her tightly. “This was not part of the plan.” Dahlia counters...

“I’ve waited for this.” She braces Dahlia by the shoulders, giving her that stern look that always let her know, without a doubt, this was something that was going to be... “Fine, I give up.” Tears stream down her face as she pleads one last attempt to guilt Riley’s heart, “You keep me safe.” When Riley does not falter, she says, “I’m not saying I told you so...” She meets Riley’s gaze... “This had better work out, and this Prince had better be worth you leaving me... and deserving of you. I love you, Sis!”

Riley leaves for Cordonia ... and the nightmares begin... Ones that young Dahlia wasn’t prepared for... The dramas of college life did not start immediately, but when they started, it was like a nonstop rollercoaster ride that was no where near the fun it was hyped up to be...

The time came again... Awakened early morning by another thing that had actually happened, but a nightmare all the same... She was left ... alone. Trying to remember her sister’s words of comfort... trying to avoid placing that frantic call. “She deserves the chance at love and happiness... You’ve got this Dahlia! Even if the most embarrassing thing in the world just happened to you... Damn you, Samuel Dalton!”

#fictober21 #@Becoming Mrs. Dalton #@secretaryunpaid #choices the nanny affair #@TNA-TRR crossover

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lareinenoir · 3 years

Text

THE PURGE; Sanctuary C.E x black reader

PT III

60 Days Until The Purge

THEN...

"I'll order take out. I know you like Thai-"

"Don't order anything. I'm actually not even hungry." You said as he took your bag and put it on his shoulder. "What?" He was looking at you weird and it made you frown.

"Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"You asked me to stay the night. That is my overnight bag." You replied folding your arms and walking over to the couch. Your hand touched your forehead and you sighed. You could still feel him looking at you as you tried to relax with your head leaned back. "After I tell Shonda about our situation, you're signing the papers."

"What do you mean-"

"You know what I mean." You shot back

"Ok, well theirs a lot to consider now." He motioned to your stomach and you sat up straight. "We're having a baby, now."

"No no no." You shook your head feeling your petty insides bubble a bit in sarcasm. "I'm having a baby. Me. Just me.”

"Obviously I want to be apart of our baby's life." Chris argued back and you frowned and scoffed. He put your bag down and crossed his arms as you brushed it off. "You can't seriously think I won't. V that's insane."

"You wanna know what's insane? You think you're gonna get anywhere near it. Why in the hell would I allow you and your broken promises anywhere near my child? Do you think I'm stupid? To make the same mistake twice!"

"Again? V what do you want me to do?" He asks throwing his hands up. "Acting is what I do, that's my job-"

"I don't care about that. I'm not asking you to chose your job or me-"

"It damn well near sounds like it. I would never make you choose." He countered back and you gripped your fists together.

"You may not have said it directly, but there have been many times where you have indirectly patronized me. I just found out I'm pregnant and I have been trying so hard to deal with it." you replied watching him pace back and forth and shake his head. "I have been getting the worst headaches, I can't keep any food down and I literally get lightheaded on set every single day because hiding my pregnancy has been a real joy ride." You replied sarcastically with a small chuckle

"What do you want me to do? I tell you to tell the producers, you get mad. I tell you to take a break, you get mad. I tell you to come over and you’re mad.” Chris said in disbelief. “I don't know what you want from me." He shrugs brushing the hair from his eyes.

"Not once since you found out have you asked me how I'm doing? My whole career is at risk I could lose my job. And you don't even seem to care.” You said

"V, I do care." He reached for your shoulder and you took in another breath. "I want you to stop worrying all the time. And you're right, I should be concerned more about you. I should be there for you-I should've been there for you in the beginning.” He admitted and you folded your lips again.

Are For real this time? Should I let it go and move past it? Again? No because it'll start all over again.

"This baby is mine. This is a life changing thing that's happening, I can't let you ruin it too." You spoke

" I'm taking responsibility because this is something I want. Ok? Can't we find some common ground? You of all people should know what it's like to grow up without a father!"

"You know too!" You shouted back. Chris' dad had died when he was younger. He talked about him sometimes but not as much. "I'd rather have had my father six feet under then to have him choosing when it's convenient for him to show up!" You said with your foot down shaking your head.

"Forget the divorce. Me and you living here happily married for the years to come. Whats so bad about that? Why can't I have that? What's so wrong with the picture of two parents raising a child?" His voice was loud and he was getting frustrated. He didn't shout, but you could tell how passionate he was about it. He always wanted to be a daddy, a parent. "Huh?"

"It's not just about you!" You said stepping closer. "Because..." You shrugged feeling your eyes water as you suck in your cheeks. "I knew the kind of man I was marrying. So involved with his job it took him almost fifteen years to actually start dating. It's not about you or your career. This baby is all I have right now.”

He looked confused as he relaxed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose. From two feet away you could feel his heartbeat and you felt a little bad for how foolish you probably looked. You still loved him, not like you ever stopped, but you remembered that you still loved him.

Because, it's not about me either anymore. You thought

"Forget the papers okay..." You said swallowing your own pride. "just forget it. You’re right. I want our child to have two parents who will love him unconditionally. But it has to stop, because it takes two. I can't have you with one foot in the door." You admitted

“Yeah yeah.” He nodded “yeah I get that. I’m not going anywhere.” Chris said and you walked forward and took his hand kissing his palm as you placed it on the side of your face. “I promise V.” He cups your face and stares into your eyes. His stubble poking at you a bit as you held his wrists.

“I love you.” You said with a small smile

“Still?” He laughed making you roll your eyes as you giggled a little. “I love you too. Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” He asks again

“Yes.” You nodded “now shut up and come take a nap with me.”

NOW....

CHRIS POV**

“Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!” I said throwing the phone on the couch. I had called five times and her phone went straight to voicemail.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. ALL Weapons have been authorized for use during the purge. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 121 days. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until December 15, 12:00 o’clock midnight, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

My tv was replayed the message nine more times before shutting off. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Today is august 15, Vanessa’s birthday is tomorrow which was when she’d be 17 weeks. We had marked it on the calendar together. More than half my wife’s pregnancy would be spent during the purge. I needed to find her!

I didn’t support the purge. Something about killing people to be “cleansed” just didn’t sit right in my gut. It made my heart ache thinking about the clean up at the end. I could bring Dodger, but he can only do so much. Maybe he could help track her scent. Grabbing my coat I folded my lips together.

“Fuck!” I shout

With what weapon? How was I going to run the streets looking for my wife without a gun? I loved the idea of owning one, but Vanessa made me swear not to bring one in the house if she was there. So I just dropped the idea. Looking in the kitchen I grabbed one of the Chef knives off the rack. Maybe this would be enough for now...

“Damnit!” I curse looking at Dodger. “She said she was at Topanga Park. Start there?” I asked, as if he’d answer back. I grabbed her bonnet from off the bathroom door handle and stuffed it in my backpack.

I didn’t hesitate l. I locked up everything and jumped inside my truck. Dodger sat on the passenger side and I felt my hands start to shake as I put my foot on the gas. I started to promise god I would go to church if he would keep her safe.

“I don’t even know if you’re even listening or you even care. I love her, I’ve been such and idiot and I don’t wanna lose her.” I looked at Dodger and he was sitting up straight. “I remember you didn’t like her. You wouldn’t let her anywhere near me, you bark and squeeze yourself in between us when we sat down in the room to watch movies.” I chuckle wiping the little tear that slipped from my eye “You stole one of her wigs too.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!” she shouted chasing you around the house. “DODGER GIVE IT BACK! COME BACK!”

We chased him around the house and Dodger thought it was some sort of game. We had been officially dating for a month. I had started laughing when I caught him and held her headband wig in my hand. She stood their with her arms folded while I petted his head and she rolled her eyes.

"I told you he doesn't like me." She said as I stood up and she took the wig from my hand.

"Come on, he's just getting used to you."

"I've been over here every day. Your dog hates me."

"What?" I tilted my head to the side and touch her nose with my index finger. "Deal breaker? If my dog doesn't like my girlfriend, I'm gonna dump her? Tell me where that makes sense."

She walked closer to me and wrapped her arms around my waist looking up at the ceiling as I kissed her neck. "I guess you have a point." Vanessa sighed.

"He's just warming up to you that's all."

"What's stopping me from breaking up with you?"

"Over a dog?"

"This is his third assault against me. First it was tearing up my purse, then chewing up my crocs, not to mention the little shit I found inside of them. And now stealing my wig and playing cat and mouse." Said Vanessa as I rested my head on top of hers. "Luckily this is a backup wig."

“Aren’t you wearing one right now?” I asked

“Headband wig. And that wig your dog has destroyed,” she gave him the side eye “it was my favorite and expensive.” She gritted her teeth

“I’ll buy you another one.” I offered

She purses her lips and shook her head. “I don’t want you buying me anything. I’ll just break up with you. For real this time.”

"Fine then..." I baited her shrugging my shoulders. "Break up with me."

“Over a dog?” She frowns mocking me as I smile down at her and her eyebrows bend downward a little as she caressed my face. Her finger was gentle and she stood on her top toes and kissed my lips. “Never.”

...

I look over at Dodger and pat his head. "We'll find her. I know we will." I say trying to lift my spirits.

When we arrived to Topanga Park, it was a sight. I didn't even want to leave the truck. I felt my heart race a little more. "What the hell..."

In the middle of traffic-in between the cars were bodies. Dodger started barking at the train of blood that stained the streets. It was empty, but I could feel a heavy weight on my back. Walking behind me, next to me...it was all around me. I hadn't realized I had my hand over my mouth an nose, it was hard for me to breath as the stench of dead bodies. Dodger kept barking and that led to me chasing after him. I had her bonnet in one hand and I called after him.

I came to a halt when I came face to face with another person. He had Dodger in his hands and I felt my muscle tense up. He was tall and very familiar looking. I swallowed the lump in my throat and held the kitchen knife in my hand with a firm grip.

"Captain America?"

I tilted my head sideways and licked my lower lip narrowing my brow a little. "Yeah, give me the dog and we can go our separate ways. Ok?"

He nodded his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and put the dog down. I wasn't really concerned about who he was I was trying to prepare for a fight. He dropped his gun on the ground and held up his his hand.

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm looking for my wife." He said "She left her watch in that building." He pointed to the school and slowly pulled the watch from his pocket.

"In there?" I asked

"Yeah." He nodded, but I still couldn't shake the feeling I knew him from somewhere. "My name is Jared. My wife's name is Gianne, I'm pretty sure she was with someone else-are you looking for someone too? Maybe we could help each other. There was something written on the chalkboard in there, I wasn't something Gia would write, but she was here. All I wanna do is find her-"

"Supernatural?" I asked turning my head to the side. Vanessa loved that show. Whenever she had spare time she would watch it or on those many night she'd spend the night at my house we would watch it-well not really watch it. The Netflix and 'chill' was emphasized. "You said something about some sort of message on the wall?" I asked motioning with my hand. "what did it say?"

"um, CE equals BE or something like that." He shrugged

I laughed a little. Vanessa Evans plus Chris Evans equals Baby Evans. It was a stupid joke-an Easter egg if you will. Shonda put in the show on the whiteboard in one of our love scenes as a way to announce our pregnancy to the audience. She often left clues to the next episode in every episode except this one was not only in the show but in real life.

"Chris Evans." I say extending my hand out to him. I'm pretty sure he knew by the little smile playing on his face. He shook my hand and nodded his head.

"I know. I'm a big marvel fan, I know all your lines." Jared chuckled and then cleared his throat as he nervously laughed. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jared Padalecki - I know I said that already..."

I introduced him to Dodger and I felt a little more relaxed. I gathered that she was alive and we both came to the assumption that they were traveling together.

"Where do you think their headed?" I asked as we walked to his car which was tricked out and full of ammunition and guns. Not to mention government level protective gear.

"While I was in there, I picked up someone else. Heavy footed and big, traveling with dogs. Hair everywhere." He went on tossing me a bullet proof vest. "You heard of Sanctuary?"

"The safety place? Yeah, but it's hard to find. It's for people who get caught in the Purge right?"

He narrowed his brow and shook his head. "No." Said Jared sharply. "Sanctuary is a secret government funded task force. It started off as a conspiracy some myth to explain all the random disappearances throughout the year. It's a government project designed for population control." He went on

"Ok...what does that have anything to do with the Purge?"

"Everything. An organization designed to control the US population. We're talking Pro killers who were once on a leash, but when that horn sounded and the Purge began, they are just as free to kill anyone they want." Said Jared handing me an ipad. It was a list of celebrities. From pro athletes like Steph Curry and their immediate families to movie stars and singers like Rhianna and Tom Cruise. "There are rumors that they are hunting celebrities. The kardashians and Jenner's are fair game. If not the stars themselves then they choose their parents, brothers and sisters."

"And do what?" I asked quietly as I saw mine and Vanesssa picture

"Most get auctioned off to the highest bidder, I've also heard they kill them on the spot for money or bring them in to fight for the death. Bottom line, there is a bounty on our heads. During the Purge everyone is fair game, their is no protection."

"You're telling me she's out there being hunted by them right now?" I asked

“Possibly. The dog hair isn’t a breed we know. They are a combination of hunting canines, bloodhound, foxhound, Labrador retriever with the built and aggression of a something like a pit bull a Rottweiler.” Said Jared as I looked up from the iPad and gave it back. “You’re gonna need more than a kitchen knife. We find the dogs and the hunter and we’ll find them.”

He held a gun out to me and wiped my mouth with the palm of my hand trying to mentally prepare for what is to come."

“Do you believe in the Purge?” I asked still questioning why his car was full of weapons. “You kill people?”

He nodded his head. “Yes. I don’t believe in hiding or waiting for someone to kill me. We all have the right to Purge."

"What's stopping you from killing me?"

Jared sighed and shook his head. "I'm hunting them. I'm surviving and if you decide to threaten my survival, then I'll kill you." He went over to the driver side of his Ford charger. "Get in. Knowing Gia she is headed for Roberts hole."

"What's that?" I asked climbing in the passenger seat of the car.

“It’s a Cassino for celebrities. Jack Black owns it. It’s locked up right but open to his favorites during the Purge.”

“They’ll be there?”

“Relax.” He out his hand in my shoulder and looked at me as dodger sat in the back seat. “We will find them. You know how to shoot don’t you?” Jared raised his gun in the air and nodded my head.

I guess it wasn’t confidently and he chuckled. “Vanessa isn’t a fan of guns.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll practice. Ok?”

A/N: Sorry it took so long😬 don’t hate me, please. Lol, I hope everyone is doing well and safe out here. If you wanna be tagged leave it in the ask box, Anyways…Untill next time!

Tags!

@Tantricevans

@rosey1981

@toni9

@onceuponahuntersrealm

@pm-my-hubbies

@Cynthetic

@liqourlaughslove

@melaninfalconbucky

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

#chris evans x black women #fangirls #fanfiction #fans #chris evans #fanfics #chris evans fluff #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #the purge: sanctuary #the purge fanfic #the purge au #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans imagine #imagines #the purge #pregnant reader

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longlivefeedback · 3 years

Note

I spent three months working on my fic. The art is also amazing. And just 7 kudos. Shortly after, a fic appeared, that was literally a copy of MY fic and badly written, and just 1000 words, and this fic have more kudos now. I really want to cry

I’m sorry Anon. This may sound like impossible advice and is really just random words from a stranger on the internet that doesn’t know anything about you, but the best thing I would encourage you to do is to stop comparing your worth to others.

We live in a world of numbers where “value” is measured by views, likes, clicks, and any other metric companies can think up and put on a UI. In a world of Instagram influencers, Big Name Fans, and the Twitter-famous, we’re being told that bigger is better, more likes means more love, and the more interactions you have, the more important you are.

Do not do this with your writing. I get it. The AO3 stats are Right There. Front and center. Unignorable. Writing is lonely. It feels like screaming into the void, and after all that work, surely someone will give you the validation you deserve, right? After all, that other writer and their work got it. So why not me?

It’s not wrong to want that, Anon. It’s not wrong to love and share and want that love reciprocated. I would argue that it is very very human, and a very beautiful thing that you are reaching out, labouring over something you love, putting a bit (a lot) of yourself out there, hoping for some of that love back.

But as long as you’re always looking over your shoulder, always wondering why them and not you, why do they have more more more, why why why...you’re never going to be happy. And if this is the situation you find yourself in with your writing, I’m afraid that it will destroy your love of writing.

I’ve seen it happen. Writers turning bitter. They get angry. They get disappointed. They start asking questions. “Why can’t readers comment?” “Why don’t readers say anything?” “How do I get more kudos/comments/hits?” And sometimes they stop writing. They stop doing the thing they love. They stop creating. Why write and post when no one is going to appreciate it?

There’s really only one person whose answer matters: You.

When it comes down to it, You, the author, are the only person that should matter. How do you feel about your writing? Did you tell the story you wanted to tell? What did you learn?

No one is going to love your story more than you. No one knows your story better than you. No one knows the bits that made it in, and the bits that didn’t. No one really knows which parts you struggled with, which one caused you the most tears, which ones you’re the most proud of because it was so hard for you to write.

Every time I see a fic I’m in awe. Because it’s a labor of love. It’s something someone tried, something someone wanted to do, regardless of the writer’s skill, experience, or English proficiency. It’s something someone created, for fun or as a way to heal. It’s part of them and their own personal journey in this funny thing we call life. It’s something they decided to spend what precious time we all have in this world on and it’s what they’ll leave behind. It’s beautiful because it exists and You made it. And if you are the only one who sees and appreciates that. So be it. It’s your writing. It’s a bit of you. Will you really be happy if everyone else loves it except you?

So find your reason to write. Try not to let it be something that is dependent on things you cannot control and the numbers attached to it. Aren’t you a little tired of being constantly measured, compared, and criticized because what you did isn’t big enough or loved enough or good enough? Why can’t the pure act of writing just be enough?

If you’re still reading this and are thinking to yourself, “easier said than done” or “it’s all very well for me to say these things, but what can you actually do about this” then maybe here are some things you can try to distance yourself from the addicting pull of the numbers popularity game:

1. Take a step back - Try to be self-aware and realize what your expectations and goals are when you post a fic. I would refrain from an outcome that you cannot control. Number of hits/kudos/comments are things you cannot control. Who reads your fic and what they say are largely things you cannot control. What other writers post and what their readers say are things you cannot control. Realize that there’s always going to be a “bigger” and “better” fic by the numbers. There’s always a bigger fish. Don’t fall into the trap of measuring the worth of a fic, and by extension yourself, by numbers that you cannot control.

2. Find a friend - Someone whose feedback you cherish and who can laugh and cry with you and give you that feel good feeling we get when we share things, the communal creatures that we are. Share your love with them and have fun!

3. Participate in an exchange - Much easier to feel happy about a response to a fic when it’s specifically made and targeted to one single person. As long as that person likes it, mission accomplished! Also, exchanges usually have a community (fellow participants, mods, betas) for the event who can give you feedback as well. It’s a pretty good way to make some new fandom friends too!

4. Get feedback from the right people - If you are looking for feedback to improve on your writing, try to find someone whose opinion you respect and who you can build a relationship with. Constructive criticism is often very personal and takes a lot of trust between the giver and the recipient. It will take some time to build enough trust with a beta/friend/reader, so be patient with them, yourself, and the process. If you are able to build enough trust with someone you want feedback from, I find it helpful to be specific when you ask for feedback: “The pacing feels off here. What do you think?” “Can you help me show XYZ? I want it to feel like ABC.” “Does A seem to be too childish here?” “Is B acting out of character?” “Is there too much description on this page and did you lose interest?” Take their feedback at face value and try to keep an open mind. Communication is key to any relationship and it is no different with something like this.

5. Write, but do not post - Write your fic. Create. Put it down in words. But if you can’t stop yourself from constantly comparing yourself to others, don’t put yourself in that position. Just don’t post your fic. Let it sit in google docs, Word, or whatever word processor you used to bring your thought to life. Don’t gamble your happiness on things you can’t control. Find another reason to write.

Be honest with yourself about why you write. Try to stop comparing yourself and your fic to others. Don’t let something that should bring you joy be a source of sorrow.

#llf asks #long post #well this turned out long #hope this helps even a little bit anon

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hotchley · 3 years

Text

neptune’s ocean (wash this blood)

Okay so, I ended up on the part of TikTok that has A Thing for Hotch’s hands, and I decided to make it angsty. And then it had a happy Mortch ending? I don’t know...

The title is a reference to Macbeth: “Will all great Neptune’s wash this blood from my hands? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.” It’ll make sense when you read.

This was cathartic to write, especially given the conversation I had today. I hope it is somewhat cathartic to read. You can heal. You can move on, you can be happy, and your biggest fears may never come true, no matter what your brain says. As usual, no proofreading, or dialogue.

Word Count: 2486

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, blood, vomit, guns, death, grief/mourning, intrusive thoughts, survivors guilt

read on ao3!

He can’t bring himself to look at his hands. They’d never been something he’d actually focused on. He’d never thought they were cute the way Jack’s were, or hated how slender his fingers were, so unlike the stereotypical hero. He didn’t pause his life to watch them carry out household tasks the way Haley always had.

Haley. Haley who is dead, and gone and cold, and whose blood coats his hands like a second skin. She loved his hands. She always told him how she loved everything about him, but his hands were her favourite thing. She loved how soft they were. How strong they were. Everything about them.

In their first apartment, with the random photos and multi-coloured walls and traces of themselves and love everywhere, she had confessed this love to him. He had laughed when she couldn’t explain what she loved, or why. Haley had thrown a pillow at him in retaliation. But when they ended up laying on the sofa, both claiming they would go and clear the kitchen in a moment, she had linked their hands over her chest and kissed his knuckles.

And confessed that part of the reason she loved them was that they were so much bigger than hers. When Aaron asked her why, Haley turned away and said it was embarrassing. He convinced her to tell him. How, he wasn’t sure. But she told him.

It was because they made her feel safe.

But as he sits in the living room that had once been full of love and life and joy and her, his hands being wiped of all of his sins as though they were as easy to bury as her body, he thought about how those same hands she loved had only hurt her.

He looks down, needing to see the traces of blood before they’re removed forever. As he does so, the limbs start to blur before his eyes. His eyes swim with tears and his throat starts to close. How many times before today has he washed them? Scrubbed at the pain until the skin turned red and raw?

How many times had he succeeded at rubbing it away? At hiding it, not just from everyone else, but from himself? And how many more times would he have to repeat the motion before his hands were clean? Would they ever be clean?

He wipes the tears from his eyes. He doesn’t deserve to cry. Not now. Not after everything he has ruined.

Moments flash through his mind all at once.

Aaron Hotchner is eight.

His father is drunk- but that’s not an excuse, not now and not ever, although he will only learn that at thirteen in a boarding school meant to destroy him- and he does not understand what is going on.

But his father has taken the belt from his trousers and brought it down on too small for his age hands until he sees blood. His hands tremble uncontrollably. Tears stream down his face, but there is no sympathy or kindness waiting for him. Not this time.

The next day, he can hardly hold his pen. Nobody seems to notice or care. So he grits his teeth and bears the pain. It is the first time he finds himself doing such a thing, but it will by no means be the last.

Aaron Hotchner is fourteen.

Someone insults his mother. And they aren’t wrong. He will realise this in a few years: that his mother was just another victim, but in that moment, he is just a teenager angry at the world for letting him live. But whilst he knows it to be true, Sean does not. Sean does not understand that their mother is not perfect, and is just as broken as his brother’s spirit.

Sean is scared. No, he’s terrified that their mother is going to be taken from them and that they’ll never see her again. Aaron feels guilty for wishing that would happen- that both their parents would be taken away, and they would be carried off by someone that can love them the way a parent is meant to be.

Sean is scared, and Aaron is meant to ensure that never happens. He punches the boy.

It hurts his hand more than it hurts the other boy’s face, but he still ends up being suspended. His father hurts his hands again. It’s in that moment that he finally makes a wish: that he would never be like his father, even if he was his mirror.

Aaron is seventeen.

Somehow, he finds himself at Haley’s home. Her parents are away for the weekend. His are still in that wretched house, playing roles in front of their guests and destroying the set behind closed doors.

His hands are covered in blood because his father hit too hard.

Jessica, who is back from college, and the reason their parents are not at home, answers the door. She starts to close it when she sees that it is him. But then she sees how scared he looks, and finally understands why Haley is so protective over this boy.

She lets him in, and does not let him apologise. She summons her sister. His girlfriend.

Haley hugs him. She has suspected this for a while now- everyone has- but she’s going to be different in the way that she is going to act. His fists remain clenched at his side as she makes this decision. Because this is a mistake. He cannot ruin her as well. He needs to walk away.

But Haley and Jessica don’t let him. Haley takes his hands and in the same way Derek will twenty years later, wipes the blood away without blinking or flinching. And then Jessica bandages them up, making sure to use antiseptic to prevent infection. It stings. He doesn’t react. It’s nothing compared to his father.

He tries to ask them how they know what to do, and they both shush him. When Jessica wipes her eyes, and Haley pats her back, he remembers the days they would spend at the church, and the women that would spend hours with them, only returning to their homes when the sun went down.

It is enough to make him vomit. They clean that up without judgment.

And then, and then-

Aaron is twenty-six.

He is graduating from law school, just like he is supposed to. His hand is shaken. He does not flinch away, even though he wants to. He doesn’t recoil because Haley and Jessica are sitting in the audience, the only people he even wanted to watch him walk across the stage.

Their cheers are the only thing he can hear.

When Haley hugs him, and Jessica tells him how proud she is, he knows it isn’t just because he made it.

Aaron is twenty-eight.

He is dancing with Haley at their wedding.

Her hands are so much smaller than his. So much gentler. So much softer. So much more human. And so beautifully void of scars. So perfect.

He makes one final vow that he will never say aloud. He will always keep her safe. No matter what happens.

Hotch is thirty-two.

He shoots someone dead for the first time. The medics come running in to check the injuries on the hostages. To confirm the time and cause of death.

He drops the gun. Dave’s words- don’t let them see you break- echo somewhere in his mind, but he cannot help the display of vulnerability. His knees buckle. He hits the ground with trembling hands. He pulled the trigger that released the bullet that ended someone’s life.

On the train journey home, he pretends to be fine. Jason and Dave pretend to not notice that he is silently falling apart.

The door to his home- the only one he has ever known- closes. As Haley holds him, he cries. And then he tries to push her away because is going to destroy her. It’s in his blood. His father destroyed him, and his father destroyed him, and it is a vicious cycle that he cannot break.

But Haley does not let go.

When the tears stop, she asks. He manages to force the truth out. Haley tells him everything is okay, and that he did the right thing, that he will move on from this. Aaron pretends to believe her, and pretends he doesn’t see her shift away from him ever so slightly.

Perhaps this is the moment their marriage starts to end.

Aaron is thirty-four.

A nurse is placing his son in his arms. Haley is watching them both with a smile. He mirrors that smile. so in awe at her for giving birth.

He’s in awe of his son as well. Jack- named for Jacqueline, the mother Hotch gained from and lost to the job- is tiny. Aaron cannot quite believe he is real. Jack Gideon Hotchner is so small, but so trusting that the arms holding him will keep him safe.

So just as quickly as the awe overwhelmed him, the fear sets in. What is he doing holding a baby so small and precious? He will ruin this child. He needs to let go.

He hands the baby to Haley, and runs to the bathroom. His meagre dinner- fear for Haley had stopped him from eating properly- makes a second appearance.

Haley knows what happened- she always does. She doesn’t force him to explain what went through his head, nor does she tease him about not being able to handle the sight of childbirth like the nurses do, so blissfully unaware of the monsters that haunt his nightmares.

Instead, Haley lays Jack down in the cot beside her bed. And then she takes Aaron’s hands, covering them with her own. She presses a soft kiss to his knuckle. Almost like she is silently promising him the same thing: that he will not hurt this child the way he was.

Suddenly, he is in the present.

Aaron is thirty-nine.

He is sitting in the living room of the home he had built with Haley. The home they were supposed to raise Jack in. Together. But now she is gone. She is gone and it is all his fault.

He let George Foyet escape. And then he took too long to work out his final plan. He took too long to get to the house. So now Haley is gone. Jack will grow up without a mother and a father that cannot trust himself to touch him without causing harm.

How can he?

He has killed a man. A person. A person who had surrendered, with nothing more than his bare hands. He killed the man that had murdered Haley, in order to save Jack, but what kind of person does that make him? How is he supposed to comfort his son by hugging him and holding him when the blood would never be washed from his hands?

How could it?

He is worse than his father.

Derek leaves him after he finishes with the bandages.

He returns a few seconds, minutes, hours- Hotch doesn’t know, time has become nothing to him- later. He returns to Hotch sobbing over all the things he has loved and lost since he was born.

Derek doesn't say a word. He doesn’t need to. He knows nothing he says will make the situation better. Instead, he takes Aaron’s hands and lets the man cry.

Healing- physical and emotional- takes time. Rationally, Aaron knows it will, but it’s still a difficult thing to accept. It takes longer than he wants it to.

It angers him- that it’s taking him so long to get back to normal and move on. The grief counsellor (the one Derek urged him to see, if not for his own sake, then for Jack’s) reminds him that it’s normal. If it were anyone else, Hotch would tell them to let themselves feel, and to give themself time to mourn.

But he is supposed to be the leader of the BAU. And although he can hardly look at Jack without tears forming, he is a father. He needs to be there for his son. So whilst everyone- colleagues, family, Jack’s counsellor, his own therapist- tells him he needs to take care of himself as well, he just can’t.

He can’t bring himself to eat. He can’t bring himself to let go of the guilt. He can’t bring himself to mourn. He can’t bring himself to accept that Haley is gone, nothing more than a casket, a headstone, photos and the memories and stories her loved ones cling to.

There is so much he cannot do. Too much that he feels.

Yet no matter what seems to happen, no matter how sad he feels, how angry he gets at the world, Derek seems to stick around. When Aaron is terrified of hurting someone he loves, Derek is there to remind him he won’t. When he is so tired he can’t even sleep, but Jack wakes from a nightmare, Derek stays awake and reads to him.

When he forgets to eat.

When counselling drains him of his energy.

When his hands shake too much to point the gun at the target during his re-certification training.

When he can’t even look at his hands because of all the harm they have caused.

Derek stays, even when Aaron cannot hug his son.

Aaron Hotchner is forty-three years old.

It has been three years since Haley’s death.

Two years ago, he let go of his guilt. One year and nine months ago, he let go of his fear of moving on, as he realised he could love someone and remember her all at once. Seven months ago, he built up the courage to tell Derek how he truly felt.

Derek had kissed him, soft and gentle and perfect. It had been exactly the same and completely different to the first kiss him and Haley had shared. Because it had been perfect, and it had been unexpected, but it had been less desperate and less messy.

Derek had kissed him, and Aaron had felt peace. He knows Haley is proud of him.

Derek is watching him. The man who had lost everything and then found a way to carry on. The man who put everyone above himself, but is learning to care for himself. The man who still wakes up screaming, but who has learnt to breathe without fear of timing running out.

The man he loves.

Jack is holding an ice-cream in one hand as he and Hotch walk side by side, down to where Morgan is waiting to surprise the boy- not so little anymore- with a trip to the bowling alley for his birthday.

Jack holds his hand out for his dad to take.

And what does Aaron do?

He takes Jack’s hand in his own, without a single ounce of hesitation.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #derek morgan #hotch x haley #mortch #hotchgan #criminal minds fanfic #tw child abuse #tw blood #tw vomit #tw guns #tw death #tw grief #tw survivor's guilt

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yan-twst · 4 years

Note

hey there! i love your work! can i request the dorm leaders + their darling dying? particularly if it was due to an accident, the dorm leader’s own actions/punishments, or even (if you’re comfortable writing about the topic) by their own hand? thank you! 💞 i hope you’re doing well ~

warnings: this is just dark like very dark and messed up! mentions of death, violence, abuse, blood, self harm- like, everything like that is here. on top of that general yandere warnings. this one is heavy on violence and abuse so please be careful when reading if this could affect you! (-｡-;) also lots of mentions of stuff that could be potentially triggering to people with eating disorders!

riddle rosehearts

he didn't mean to. that's all he can think of as he watches his darling lay on the floor of his room, blood slowly pooling under them. he's shaking and hyperventilating- no he didn't mean to he didn't mean to hedidn'tmeantohedidn'tmeanto-

he feels like throwing up as he backs away. it was over so quickly- he just didn't mean to get so angry, but he did, and all it took was one swing of his staff against his darling's head and a sickening crack and now they're- they're-

he forces himself to search for a pulse, but his hands are shaking too hard. his darling can't die, this can't be real; he wouldn't ever hurt them badly...! but their body is slowly growing cold under his hands, and he's feeling sicker and sicker by the second

he wishes he could just die in their place- what did he do? when trey finds him sobbing over his darling's body, the third year assumes that riddle's darling collapsed and hit their head; riddle is too shaken to deny this. everyone in heartslabyul believed that his relationship was perfect, nobody would suspect he'd been the one to deliver the final blow: and it makes him sick

he stops eating, stops attending classes, and lets himself slowly waste away in his bed. it's bad enough that crowley considers sending him home, but trey quickly objects: the last thing riddle needs is his mother's treatment... everyone tries to help him cope, help him move on, but he just doesn't get better. he doesn't want to get better, not when the guilt is eating him alive.

he feels like his darling is watching him, even after their death. it's like a punch in the gut, thinking of all he did: he was a kidnapper and a manipulator and an abuser and he killed them, he killed his lover who he kept by his side by force- the thoughts make him even sicker. he's slowly wasting away, refusing food and water...

the only way to save him at this point would be a spell to make him forget his darling ever existed... and his friends are so desperate to at least save him- thinking that he's just a mourning lover who lost his beloved too quickly- that it's not too unreasonable to expect them to do so.

leona kingscholar

those close to him knew he didn't mind getting a bit... rough, with his beloved. whether it was the servants back at home, or ruggie who didn't want to get on leona's bad side, nobody interfered: after all, they always claimed they were fine and happy with leona! ... though most of the times leona was keeping a tight grip on theis shoulder as they spoke those words

it's nobody's shock when a mysterious deep scratch becomes seriously infected on them. both leona and his darling deny that he was the one who caused it- but... well, it's clear to those who knew of how violent leona could be when unhappy with his darling that he was the only possible culprit.

the fact leona has terrified his darling into complete submission and obedience now shows its deadly side, as it turns out they'd been hiding the highly infected scratch from him in fear of repercussions, and when medics have a look at it, his darling is at death's door. he barely has time to process what's happening, before his feverish darling just... passes away in their sleep, with no chance to even call a magic healer who could have helped

nobody has seek leona in worse shape before. he doesn't even attend the funeral, and he doesn't let anyone (not even ruggie) get near him- he appears like a feral beast, destroying anyone and anything that crosses his path. his mourning is destructive, and it doesn't take long for him to be called back home before he turns the whole savanaclaw dorm to sand

he's inconsolable, and he doesn't let anyone near. he knew very well that what he was doing to his darling- keeping them under his control by taking advantage of their fear, forcing them to play the part of the "happy lover" despite them being terrified of him- was wrong, but in the end, he loved them more than anything.

and in their own way, he knew they loved him: even when they had the chance, they never begged his brother or crowley for help... almost as if they believed he could change for the better. but he didn't, he essentially killed them.

he'll just isolate himself. go somewhere far away where he can misserably live the rest of his days alone. all he does is sleep and mourn, hunting to feel relief from his pain in the form of violence- but even then... he's just never coming back from this

azul ashengrotto

he just wanted to teach them a lesson. once again his darling had tried to escape him, to escape his love, even though they'd sworn to stay with him- even though they'd signed a contract promising to stay- so he'd punished them accordingly. after a painful, near-drowning dip in the freezing cold ocean, he'd just left them in the bathroom to cry and beg for mercy... but when he came back less than a day later, they were just... dead on the ground

hypothermia. his darling's blue fingers, their huddled up form as they tried to preserve heat in their last moments: he feels himself grow lightheaded and tears blur his vision as he picks up their cold, lifeless corpse. how...? it's too late when he notices the place where he left them: there's no towels, no hot water, and the temperature is cold. the fact his darling was just violently dragged around the freezing cold waters before- the fact they were already weak from being kept in captivity...

the twins arrive immediately when they hear azul's screams and wails coming from the bath. there's not even a chance to ask what happened: he's crying, sobbing as he apologises to his darling's cold, damp corpse. the eels quickly realize what's happening- and though upset, jade immediately volunteers to hide the corpse. they have to, or else they're all in serious trouble. floyd has to pretty much tear the corpse out of azul's grip.

azul feels like shit, he wishes he'd died in their place- but he doesn't want to be imprisoned. he didn't mean to- how could he ever want the person most important for him to die?! the general student body interprets his mourning and guilt as the reaction to his darling "mysteriously going mising"- each time someone tells him they hope that his beloved is found soon, he wishes he could just die on the spot

he doesn't have a will to take care of himself or the lounge anymore- all his duties fall onto Jade. watch what he eats? who cares- not him. he swings from eating whatever he wants to try and fill the void in his heart to going days on end without even leaving his bed- it's unhealthy and it's worrying, but... what can he do? he killed his darling, left them to die alone- he deserves nothing.

kalim al-asim

it's everything he feared, happening at once. just one time- one time- he takes his darling out to eat because they've been behaving so well and it's their anniversary- and they look so happy to be out of their chains and out of their room! and then- and then they take a bite of their food and it's nearly inmediate, they collapse and cough, and then it's over.

he should've known better. he HAD to know better. hadn't he been telling his darling the reason why they had to stay locked inside was for their safety? hadn't he promised he wouldn't allow them to be harmed? this- this had happened before with jamil, but jamil had lived. his darling died.

his guilt and pain are immeasurable. he cries during the funeral, loud enough that even his own family feels like they can't approach him. even jamil can't help but feel bad- even knowing all what kalim did to his darling. it's like the spark inside of him was extinguished, all his joy snuffed out

he commissions paintings and works of art of his late darling to an almost terrifying degree. he needs to keep them around, to keep something that makes him feel like they aren't gone, but everytime he gazes at the expensive oil paintings of his darling, he's crushed by pain and becomes as inconsolable as the day they died

there's no more parties. how could he possibly throw a party- no, how could he possibly dare search for happiness knowing what happened? he feels like he doesn't deserve comfort or joy. he turns down all of his friends and family's attempts to help. he feels like hurting and being misserable is the only way to make it up to his darling, even in death

he'll pretend to move on, for everyone's sake- it's painfully obvious he's faking his happiness, but... nobody knows what to do to help, so they just accept his poor acting. nobody brings up how he sleeps cuddled with golden chains (that only jamil knows were the ones used to keep his darling in their room), or how he keeps all his darling's belongings untouched like if they could return any day- in the same way nobody, not even jamil, acts like they notice the scars that appear on his skin, which was once unmarked.

vil schoenheit

he knew that using so much love potion had to have... some negative side effect. however, he saw it as a necessary side effect; his darling was just lost and needed a bit of help to love him! besides, he himself brewed the potion with the highest quality ingredients, and sure it was worrying that his darling was becoming resistant and needed larger and larger doses each time, but he never expected them to just... drop dead when he gave them their morning's dose of potion.

love potion overdose- now that was a way to die that didn't appear in any textbook. vil wouldn't be able to process the events: his darling just fainted, right? how silly! he'll just- he'll just tuck them into bed, they need beauty sleep, and he'll... and then he'll...

when he finally feels his darling's cold body, with no heartbeat as he places a hand on their chest, it feels like the world is falling around him. how was he supposed to know this could happen?! he tries as many healing and health potions as he can, but... in the end, he specializes in poisons, and his darling is already dead. it's merely a fool's errand

he cries. he crie and cries- how dare his darling die?! how dare they abandon him?! he wails until his eyes are red and puffy, until his makeup is ruined. he doesn't know what to do; he doesn't want anyone to see his darling like this. soon enough death will take its toll on their beauty- the thought makes him feel even worse.

just like how the dwarves in the ancient legend preserved the princes's body in a clear casket to admire her beauty even after death, vil will do exactly that. finding a spell to preserve his darling's body is exhausting, and he risks his own skin by losing sleep and stressing over it (he's running against the clock and he knows it. he has to hurry, before his darling's beauty fades), but he's successful

he keeps his darling- a corpse that won't decompose, their body cold but skin as soft as when they lived- in a glass casket in his room. everyday, he carefully does their makeup and dresses them up, still making them go through his skincare routine even after death. in all honesty, the routine is what manages to keep him from losing his mind; he doesn't see how misserable he is, desperately taking care of a corpse.

he has to work harder on his makeup now. no matter how much he tries, he can barely sleep: he tries so hard to push back the thoughts that plague his mind (the thoughts that tell him if he'd been a better lover his darling would be alive, that if he'd been better his darling would have loved him without the need of a potion, that he was the one harming them from the very start whenever he knowingly destroyed their self esteem so he could manipulate them with more ease)- everyone bites back comments in fear of invoking his anger, but... it's visible, how much he's suffering.

idia shroud

is this the gods' punnishment for his actions? does he just deserve nothing in life? he holds his darling's lifeless corpse in his hands and wails. he doesn't even know how they died- was it just too much? the isolation, the stress... he thought he was doing a good job at caring for them, but clearly he wasn't, was he?

he'll rebuild them- he'll bring them back. he doesn't care how unethical it is- he has to get his darling back. what were all his efforts up until now for? stalking, kidnapping his darling; was he truly about to throw away all that work? he wasn't- not at all

he tries his best to keep ortho in the darl about the truth. no, no- his darling is just... taking a nap. yes, a special nap, suspended in a mysterious blue fluid in a large tube in idia's room- just... a nap... of course the younger shroud doesn't believe this, but even the child can see the pain in idia's eyes and doesn't question further

it's because of ortho's concerns that idia doesn't spiral into absolute missery: otherwise, he doesn't even know if he'd have the will to keep living without his darling. the younger one cheers him on, telling him that he'll absolutely succeed! ... even if idia has low hopes on actually managing to artificially revive his darling, his brother's words keep him going

he takes to talking to his darling's corpse, suspended and preserved in the tube. he'll save them soon. he'll make it so they can walk around his room again- he even promises to let them go out if he just manages to finish the work- he just has to work harder. he needs to work more.

he has no clue how long it'll take him, or if he'll even succeed. but he has to keep going. there's only two things keeping him alive- ortho, and the need to hold his darling again. he needs them. he has to get them back.

malleus draconia

there's always a level of risk when applying a sleeping curse, of course. he knows this very well, but he trusts his magic. he knows he's good at what he does; so why has his darling's heart stopped beating...?

he'd grown so used to simply casting the spell when he went to class and undoing it when he returned, he almost missed the change and left for class. but he did notice- when he cast the spell, instead of falling into a peaceful sleep... his darling seemeed to jerk awake for a second, then close their eyes: and after that, he couldn't see the rise and fall of their chest. a nervous hand pressed against their chest, and found no heartbeat

he's lost and scared. suddenly, he doesn't feel like Malleus Draconia, ruler of the dark fae- suddenly he feels like he's a little baby again, crying because he's scared of thunder. all he can do is fall back in shock and call for lilia- please. please come help him. he made a mistake.

lilia can comprehend very well what happened. the sleeping spell failed- perhaps malleus' darling was too frail, their constitution worsened by the constant sleep and captivity. there's nothing the ancient fae can do: once death has taken a human, they're gone. all he can do is hug malleus, to try and comfort him like he used to when the dark fae was a child.

malleus knew that humans had short lifespans. lilia had warned him about this, about the pain human lovers would bring; that was one of the reasons why he'd brought his darling to his dorm and forbidden them from leaving, so he could do the most with the time they had. and yet- even for a human, this was too soon. far too soon. how could life be so cruel? how could he lose the one person who understood him and loved him? perhaps everyone was right to steer away from him. perhaps he did just bring misfortune wherever he went

lilia, silver, and sebek can only watch as malleus becomes lonelier than ever. the dark fae has rarely mourned before- and even though lilia is trying his best to guide the young lord through the process of grieving, malleus is just not taking it well at all. he killed his beloved- as much as his dormmates try to convince him it was a freak accident, that he had no hand in it, he knows better. perhaps what hurts him the most is his darling's peaceful face after they passed- they never held such an expression around him, not since he took them captive... were they so happy to have escaped him, even if it meant death?

#twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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liria10 · 3 years

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Favorite Benny books?

Ok so. Tumblr crashed as I was typing this on mobile. I am retyping it on desktop cause fuck this site, and I Have Opinions, and my friend I will let you hear them or so help me!

.... This got. Really. Really long. I am adding a read more to spare you guys from that.

Ok so! As a preface, I haven't read many VNAs with Benny in it, and of her solo books, I still have 2 of her Legion books to read.

I'm going to (re)start this with the VNAs!

Love and War: a very classic answer perhaps, but it is a really good introduction for Benny, even if the book has its flaws and can certainly show its age nowadays. Cornell absolutely nails her right off the bat, and from her very first page, Benny is just a character that keeps you interested. Not only does she work great as a counter to both Seven and Ace, but she also brings a breath of life to the whole range the way only a prose character can.

Plus, I think one of the greatest successes of that book lies in how Benny appears as a rounded and flawed person from the beginning. She’s not your ordinary girl dragged to a whirlwind of adventure and an universe of wonders, but an older, adult woman, with a good chunk of life experience and adventures already behind her, and while setting foot inside the TARDIS opens up a new and unexpected chapter in her life, it does also remain just that. A chapter. Benny had a life before the Doctor, and from that moment, while noone could have predicted it then, she would have one after him as well.

The Left-Handed Hummingbird: I just finished that one last week, so it’s obviously both fresh in my mind, and one I'm thinking highly of at the moment. Well I mean, it’s Orman! Or course I love it. She really is great at writing both intricate, large stories, and yet focusing on the personal, on the human side of things. And I find that this book does a great job at putting benny in the role of the grounding presence both for ace and the doctor, as well as exploring how time traveling as they do, and dealing with seven’s schemes can be frustrating for benny. That whole tardis team is a mess, and none of these people really… work well together, but it’s because they’re so dysfunctioning that they’re fascinating, and orman absolutely nails that.

Theater of War: A very different type of book, it is honestly a fun romp, and it has Benny being an actual archeologist, down to dealing with the academia side of things. And it’s the little things, but I love it when Benny books remember that about her tbh? Also, it has some nice theater theming, and well, as an introduction for brax, it certainly works well! It’s one of those VNAs that I think is just fun. A well crafted story with good takes on the characters, that’s always enjoyable to me!

Return of the Living Dad: Orman again?? What a surprise! But frankly, I love how this book is all about Benny and her daddy issues, be it with the Doctor or well, her actual dad. Between that, her budding marriage with Jason, and finding out so many old wounds reopened, I just. Really love how raw Benny can be under Orman’s pen? How underneath it all, she still has that side of the scared orphan that lost both parents to a war she was far, far too young to ever comprehend, and how that just left her rebelling against the world in general, and resenting deep down her parents for that abandon. I mean, it’s neat character stuff, but it can very easily be written as dull & cliche shitte you know? And Orman really… always get down to the heart of it all, and boi does it make for some great reading.

The Dying Days: It’s a very fun book, and well, technically works as the first round for Benny as the lead woman after all! It’s a joy all throughout, triumphant where it needs to be, and managing to both celebrate the Doctor and what he brought to the VNAs, as well as setting up the stage for Benny to go on to her own range. It’s basically one last run of the old team, and well. I do love Benny & Eight, and yes I am blaming Parkin for it. Also, big brained take to have Eight give her Wolsey because I love that cat and Benny deserves a cute kitty in her life. We all do.

Ok!! Now on to the NA, and my personal favorite era!

Dragon’s Wrath: It’s a fun one!! I do really like the story being centered again on archeology first and foremost, and it’s a good romp that has some really good take on Benny. Especially the trial scenes, I love how those one get down to Benny as someone who despite everything, loves history, and cares very very deeply about the artifacts she uncovers. Also, it introduces brax as a mainstay of the dellah era, and does so in a rather nice way. Overall, a very enjoyable book!

Beyond the Sun: Benny & students stranded on a planet with mystery to uncover, that’s already a fun premise, and then throw in all the various queer themes present, especially with Emile, and the whole scene of them all in drag performing on top of a bus, and it’s just a rather good book. Plus, I love how it mirrors the whole VNA Doctor mantra, except with a very Benny twist. Sometimes cruel, sometimes cowardly, but trying her damndest to do good. And well, that’s just Benny isn’t it? I always harp on about the very heart of Benny being her humanity, and if there’s something that book highlights, it’s that.

Deadfall: Jason takes center stage in this one, and well, I do really love Jason. It’s overall a fun book with some nice lore ideas, and I love how it works Cwej in the whole Dellah setting. Also, at least it’s a story with Jason in the lead that doesn’t end in utter tragedy, and that’s always nice!

Tempest: Ok so. That book isn’t great. The story’s cliche, the characters aren’t the best, and the plot itself? Forgettable, it’s another in the list of “sort of base under siege story in the dellah era” which you’d think wouldn’t be super common and yet! So… why am I listing it here? Cause the concept of the planet!! The idea of a world of storms and disaster, run through via a blind train as the only means of transport? The fantastic animal life described in it??? That book left an impression of me, and that’s not something I can say of all of the others.

The Medusa Effect: … Justin Richard writes a good Benny. Like, legit. I love how that one really works with the setting & history of Dellah, and gives further information on the planet’s involvement with the Dalek war. Plus, it also got some really, really nice aesthetics. I am soft for good aesthetics ok? Benny, dancing with a skeleton on the deck of an old spaceship made to look like a cruise liner in an hallucination/dream sequence type of thing? Sign me right up!

Beige Planet Mars: That one is a blast. I remember just, absolutely loving it when I read it tbh. Between the overall description of Mars, the further Lore Implication of the Mars invasion & all that, as well as it basically being one last round of more… Normal dellah books before everything goes to hell? It’s one i’d highly recommend if you want to have a good time.

Tears of the Oracle: Probably my favorite of that whole range? (apart from dead romance, which I am not counting as a benny book) I love just, how much overall… feelings isn’t quite the words i’m looking for, but i can’t think of a better way to put it… there is throughout the book? It was thought to be the end of the NA as it was written and well, that shows. I love how it weaves the whole mystery of “what happened to that legendary archaeologists?” with the whole side of what’s basically some of the only survivors from dellah going on one last round of discovery. The status quo of the range was destroyed quite a few books before that one, but imo, it’s there that they take the time to stop for a bit, and just. Deals with what that means in actuality. And ngl, I love the entire sequence of Benny & Brax walking through the wreckage of what used to be their home, it’s a scene that works really, really well.

And well, it does a great job at setting up the future as well after all! Yes, there’s still 3 books after it, but when you look at where Big Finish picked up… they went for what Tears of the Oracle was setting up. It really makes the transition flows well between those two, unlike my rambling for a full paragraph before going to “here’s the BF books I like”

The Doomsday Manuscript: A very good start for the range! Not only does it set up the whole collection, but it also introduces the Fifth Axis as a major threat, and does so in a wonderfully well paced book that keeps you hooked throughout. I like how it also sets up Jason’s loss as something Benny is still suffering over, as well as how she hasn’t lost hope in finding him again. Plus frankly, it’s also a really good story.

The Glass Prison: You’d think that for a book where Benny spends the majority of it in prison and not very active due to being near the end of her pregnancy, not much would happen, but the way Jacqueline Rayner builds up an atmosphere of unease, mistrust and a genuine disturbing ambiance throughout the book is just, fantastic.

Genius Loci: This book. This book!!! Ben Aaronovitch writes an absolutely powerful story of Benny as a young woman, lost and finding herself faced with far more responsibility than she ever thought possible. The way he writes the whole mystery, while also making Benny as a 20yo not only believable, but quite distinct from Benny as the adult we’ve all come to know and love is just. So good. My main grip with this book is how abruptly it ends, and how we’ll never get the sequel. I want to read Terra Incognita and more of Benny slowly finding herself damn it!

Dead Men Diaries: Just like Doomsday Manuscript, does a great job at establishing the collection as well as the recurring cast. I really enjoy most of the stories in it, and I think BF started out so strong on those books srsly!

A Life in Pieces: I love it so much. It’s pure brax at his most manipulative, and for such petty reasons. I really like how it both deals with the aftermath of the Fifth Axis occupation, as well as the repercussions Brax’s schemes have for the people living on the collection. Also, it’s just 3 very good novellas in a row that build up to something more, and I always like seeing that.

Nobody’s Children: That book has the best Draconian story in the entirety of doctor who and related. Like, yeah just that. It’s also nice to see the fallout of the Mim/Draconian war. It’s one I didn’t expect a lot out of, and frankly, I ended up really loving it.

The Vampire Curse: The middle novella is one I absolutely hated, but the other two are really good, and mixing benny and vampires is just, very fun. Also!! Predating the Predator is in it, and it is a really good take on vampires in a science fiction setting that also has some nice creep factor as well, and manages to be both a good vampire story, and a good sci fi story, which isn’t always an easy balance to find.

Life During Wartime: It’s a surprisingly hard hitting anthology about living under a fascist regime, and the compromises you have to make, the personal sacrifices and small rebellions. Honestly, there’s a lot I love about it, but certainly one of my favorite moment, is when Benny, having to dine with one of the officers, miss jones & jason, sees that the officer is nearly on to her hiding peter away, and that split second moment of “if I have to, I am willing to kill everyone in this room to protect my son” before he just laughs it off, it’s a lot of tiny moments that build up to a really well done ambiance tbh.

Something Changed: While it did the terrible, terrible sin of introducing Doggles to the world, I really love the concept of every chapter after the first being a different split universe, and how they’re all spiraling more & more out of control. It’s got some really good stories in between too, though they can also be rather hit & miss. An aspect I love about it too is how impactful Wolsey’s death ends up being.

Present Danger: That one is fun, I love how it’s basically everyone vs the deindum, a situation slipping more and more out of control, mixed with some neat stuff one the deindum’s whole temporal deal. It’s again a bit hit & miss, but it’s still a blast, and as the last anthology of the collection era, it does send it all off with a bang.

Welp. Far, far too many words later, and here we are!!! I love Benny a lot ngl, and I genuinely think that prose is the medium best suited for her. I have been rather disappointed with the more modern books, I find them far more bland than what I personally expect from Benny but ah well. Can’t always get everything.

And while it’s neither a book, nor even an official story in any mean, the fanfic “Sepelio” that’s an Hannibal au set in the Dellah era is great, and the benny story I have been enjoying the most lately. I would be remiss not to at least mention it!

#ask #ask tag #bernice summerfield #.... Look I love benny probably a bit too much for my own good

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castiel-left-his-mark-on-me · 3 years

Text

The In-Between

I have become enamored with the time in between-- after they drove off into the sunset in 15x19, but before they awoke in the bunker at the start of 15x20; because there were some days there, and in those days, something changed in Dean. So it got me thinking ... what if ...

“Finally free.”

Dean had said the words— and he had meant them, but they didn’t bring the joy he thought they would. They didn’t leave him feeling as free as he wanted to be; because for the last ten years, he never dreamed of a freedom without Castiel.

It was supposed to be him, Sammy and Cas in the end.

They were Team Free-Will.

The three of them.

But now, it’s just him and Sam and a whole world that looks all too much the same for all they’ve lost... for what’s been sacrificed to save it.

Dean presses the gas pedal, and Baby roars down the road, eating up the miles like the beautiful monster she is. He looks over, and Sam is smiling, but there’s an emptiness to it—and Dean knows that his baby brother is hurting too. He still hasn’t heard from Eileen, so he still doesn’t know if Jack brought her back with everyone else; or … if he just took her to Heaven because, she technically should have been there all along.

And it seems like some kind of sick joke. Some punchline Chuck had built into the universe, and Dean and Sam were always destined to be the ones getting punched.

They were free, yes; but they aren’t happy.

The Winchesters saved the world but they lost so much more.

They stop for gas somewhere outside of Sante Fe, where the fields stretch out forever and Dean thinks that if he just tracks the horizon long enough with his eyes, he can maybe fall right off the edge of the earth.

The pump clicks, and he caps Baby back up, giving her a pat on the trunk—knowing that both her and Sam would suffer if he was gone, so he blinks goodbye to the sun’s bed and climbs back behind the wheel, ready to continue on to nowhere, or somewhere. Right now, they’re just driving because they can and not because they have something to kill or someone to save, and that’s perhaps the nicest part about their new life so far.

“Holy crap” Sam says, looking wide eyed out the windshield.

“What?” Dean asks, following his brother’s gaze through the glass and out to the gravel driveway of the station.

And there, all shaggy and panting—is Miracle.

“No way!” Dean gasps, immediately jumping out of the car again to crouch and side step towards the mangy dog as quick as he can. “Hey—hey, boy! Is that really you?” He says, laughing and smiling, and the dog wags his tail a little, sitting still as Dean kneels down in front of him. “I thought we lost you, buddy” Dean says, looking into those brown eyes as they look into his. “I thought we lost you like we lost—” he starts to choke up, “like … we lost …” he leans over and pats Miracle on the head, “like I lost—” he bends down and hugs the dog close, crying into his fur; and Miracle whines, scoots in closer, nestles his chin onto Dean’s shoulder—and let’s the man hold him as he completely breaks.

“Dean …” Sam says softly, touching Dean’s arm as he squats beside his older brother and the dog. “C’mon … I’ll drive.”

Deans nods, wiping at his eyes before he stands back up, picking up Miracle with him and carrying him to the car. “We’re going home, buddy” he whispers, kissing the top of the dog’s head, breathing him in, breathing in the life of him, clutching his fur and losing himself in the solidity of him.

The dog is here, he is present.

He’s come back to Dean.

Some things can come back.

Miracle settles quickly, and Dean settles into having something to take care of, because Sam is too grown and too stubborn to let Dean take care of him anymore; and lord know—Dean won’t take care of himself, so the dog will have to do.

Plus, he’s cute … and he follows Dean everywhere, and when he’s confused, he tilts his head to the side … just like —

Dean cries in the shower, knowing it’s the only place where he won’t be heard.

He cries with the memories, wishing that he could make them stop—stop the silence of them.

The loud memories— the memories where Billie is still banging on the door in his mind, the memories where he’s still begging Castiel not to go, not to do this, and even the memories of the Empty ripping through that wall, he’d take every one of those as trade over the gut-wrenching silence that followed.

The loneliness that followed.

The dog that follows him around like a four-legged cork in the powder keg that he’s become.

Dean cries as the shower’s hot water runs out; but when he turns it off—he knows he’s still not out of tears. He will just have to turn those off too, because he can be heard now.

The sun passes overheard without him knowing, and it’s not until Sam says he’s going to bed that Dean realizes how late it’s gotten. He’s just been sitting here, cleaning his weapons over and over again, trying to wash away even the smallest molecule of blood, because it was something to do. Something he could do without thinking; because thinking is more dangerous than any gun in his hand.

Miracle follows him into his room and curls up onto the pile of old blankets that Dean put down for him.

Dean shuts the door, locks it, and then looks around—noting the mess, noting the disarray. He never used to let his room get like this, but he can’t bare to move anything now, because it all is as it was when Cas was alive.

He might’ve touched something in here.

He might have left a small trace of himself on a book, or on one of Dean’s shirts, and if Dean can just hold in it in the right way, maybe, just maybe—he’ll unlock a memory, something he’s forgotten that won’t make the angel feel so far off, so permanently gone.

But—he knows that’s not how these things work. He’s lost enough people in his life to understand … that’s not how any of this works; yet, the books stay half open on the table. The clothes stay piled on the chair.

And Dean stays, buried alive in the middle of his mess of hope and discarded despair.

He sits down at his desk to finish the paperwork he got from the auto shop in town. They were looking for a part-time mechanic, and Dean was inside the manager’s office and shaking the man’s hand before he even knew what he was doing.

He just needed something, anything that didn’t remind him of the hell he’s been living in all his life, and a normal 9-5 job seemed just crazy enough to work.

Dean’s eyes scan down the page—social security number, birthday, last employer … and he doesn’t know what to write. He doesn’t know if he can even put down the truth anymore. The world might still think Dean Winchester is dead, or a mass-murder, or a psycho or whatever.

Can he even be himself anymore?

Was he ever himself to begin with?

“Just be honest, Dean.”

Dean lifts his head slow but turns quick, looking up at Castiel as he smiles down at him. “Cas?”

The angel’s smile brightens. “More or less.”

Dean’s heart stops. “Wh-what does that mean?” He stands up from his chair cautiously, and he begins to notice how the light from the lamp in the corner of the room is shining through Castiel’s skin, as if he’s not fully whole … as if he’s not fully here. “Am … am I dreaming?” Dean asks, breathless, already starting to cry, because it doesn’t even matter what the answer is, he’s just so happy to see his friend again.

“That is how you’ll remember this, yes. However, Jack has assured me that you’ll know this was real.” Castiel looks down at Miracle, sleeping by his feet. “I see you’ve adopted a dog. That’s good. I always felt this place was one species short.”

Dean’s breaks into a teary laugh, reaching out to hug Castiel—and to his surprise, he can. He holds him. He holds him tighter than he’s ever held anyone, and shuts his eyes tight, wanting to put all of this away in his mind, every inch of feeling, every breath, every smell, every single second that passes so that when he wakes up and Castiel is gone again, he’ll remember.

He needs to remember.

Castiel’s arms come up to hug Dean back, and they stay there for as long as Dean stays—and it feels like hours before they finally pull apart again.

“How are you here?” Dean asks, shaky and quiet, once he can no longer simply stare at his friend in silence anymore.

“Jack” Castiel says, and Dean raises his eyebrows—gesturing for Cas to elaborate. The angel smiles, and he looks over Dean’s face the way he always used to, only, now … Dean knows exactly what that look means. “Jack saved me from the Empty and he brought me to heaven; however, my vessel … it was lost when the Empty took me. So, Jack fashioned this body; but since it was never of the earth, it cannot stand upon it and be known.”

Dean furrows his brow, opening his mouth to say something—closing it again once he realizes...he has no clue what he could say to that.

Castiel’s smile softens. “I wanted to come back to you, Dean … but I wanted to come back as myself. The me that you’ve always known, because you—you knowing me, that’s the only way I discovered who I truly was.”

“So … why didn’t you? Why didn’t you come back?”

“Like I said before, Dean … my vessel was destroyed, and Jack couldn’t recreate it exactly, not without disrupting the forces of nature. This was the best he could do, therefore … this dream is the best I can do at reaching out to you again. I am here, although—not really. I am solid, although, not really. I am as present as you wish me to be, and the very fact that we can touch …” Castiel reaches out and touches Dean’s hand, closing his eyes a moment as he loses himself in the feel of it, “means that you have been wishing for this almost as much as I have.”

Dean laughs in spite of the new wave of tears that has washed over him. “Almost?”

Castiel’s face sterns. “I’m in love with you, Dean. Obviously, my feelings are stronger.”

“Cas …” Dean scoffs, stepping closer to hold the angel’s hand fully, “if you can live for thousands of years—”

“Millions” Cas corrects.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Whatever. If you can live for millions of years, die a dozen times, become a God, become human, become—whatever the hell else you’ve morphed into, if you can still do all that, see all that … know as much as you know, but still not know how I feel about you standing in front of me right here, right now, then—I hate it break it to you, buddy … but you don’t know half as much as you think you do.”

“Dean, what are you—”

Dean shuts him up the only way he knows how … or more, the only way he wants to.

Miracle’s head perks up as the two beings kiss above him.

And they kiss, and they kiss—and they hold each other until the sun laps the world again and begins to breach the other ends of those fields; but Dean no longer wants to fall off their edge. He just wants to stay in his room, stuck between his two miracles, holding onto this happiness, holding on to this life.

“I want you to be happy, Dean” Castiel whispers, face buried into the collar of Dean’s shirt.

“Then stay” Dean says back, breathing in the smell of the angel’s hair – and it smells like clouds. He knows that’s the smell, even though he’s never been high enough to experience it.

“Dean …” Castiel pulls away again. “I need to go soon. I need to go back to Heaven—I need to go back to Jack and the other angels; and I need you to live your life. Start that job, start a family of your own, and be happy … your happiness is what I died for.”

“No” Dean is shaking his head hard, gripping onto the angel’s side and digging in his nails. “No, you couldn’t have died for that … because the second you were gone,my happiness was gone too. Don’t you get it, man? I’m no good without you.”

“You’re everything good, Dean. When will you learn that?”

“Cas, stop — I’m saying that I don’t want to do this without you!”

“Dean” Castiel whispers, kissing Dean’s red, wet eyes, “you will never be without me. That’s what my being here is supposed to prove to you. As long as you exist … wherever you exist, I will be right there with you.”

Dean nods against Castiel’s cheek, pulling him closer, holding on for dear life, because it is dear … he sees that now. He knows it to be true. “You promise?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“But ... when will I be able to see you again?”

Castiel kisses his temple, his lips, blessing every freckle, praying to every tear that falls from Dean’s eyes. “When your time on earth is done.”

“That long?”

Blue eyes hold him steady, hold him to the earth, ground Dean in a way that’s never failed him … not since Castiel first pulled him from Hell. “It won’t be long enough. The world deserves your gifts, Dean Winchester; and I will be ready and waiting—as long as it takes. Just promise me you’ll be happy, you’ll live and love the world you’ve saved. The world that I save for you. And when you do finally make it up to heaven, know that I’ll be there waiting for you and loving you still.”

Dean’s eyes open. The room is quiet—the faint scent of clouds and rain, and promise still hang in the air.

Miracle hops onto the bed to greet him, and Dean welcomes him with open arms.

And when Sam says he’s been thinking about Cas—about Jack, Dean knows that the only thing he can say is what Castiel told him as they held one another the night before; whether it had been a dream, or something more, it was all still real, and it all settled Dean’s heart to a steady pace—one that it would beat to until its very last.

“If we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.”

And when he sits beside Bobby in Heaven and hears him say Castiel’s name—Dean knows that the angel will kick his ass for coming by so soon, but he quickly smiles to himself, because... he told the guy before:

He didn’t want to do this without him.

#Destiel #dean winchester #castiel #15x19 #15x20 #the in between #supernatural #spn #fix it fic #inherit the earth #Carry On #Season 15 #sam winchester #Ary Writes #meta #coda #I never remember the difference

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mooswords · 3 years

Text

It’s all coming back

Pairing: semi eita x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: war au, minor character death (mentioned), angst

Ramblings: i think ive peaked with this fic. i also cried multiple times writing this but like... thats nothing new sklajsdbk. thank you to lyra for beta-ing and yelling about this with me every step of the way <3

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The summer breeze sweeps through the valley, warm air bringing little relief from the afternoon sun. You can feel the sweat dripping in familiar discomfort down your back as you pull at the weeds invading your struggling potato crop. It’s mind-numbing work, but it has to be done. Anyway, you’re almost-

Your name is yelled, loud and panicked. Tsutomu’s stumbling form is running towards you.

“There’s a man,” he pants. “There’s a man coming up the hill.”

“Is it Tadashi?”

“I don’t think it’s him. He-” Tsutomu throws a look over his shoulder, like he can see through the house and fences to remind himself what this man looks like. “He’s got a sword I think.”

“A soldier?” you breathe, the stone in your stomach dropping lower. Your shoulder aches. It’s still healing, a lingering reminder that soldiers are nothing but bad news. It’s been nearly a year since the war ended, but they like to ignore that fact.

Through the summer haze, you can see a blurry figure trudging up the road winding up to the house. Even at this distance, you can tell it’s definitely not Tadashi.

“Kei and Hikota are further out," you tell him, eyes still set on the figure. "Go find them and stay in the barn together until I come and get you, OK?”

“But-”

“Tsutomu. Go.”

The mystery figure is nearly at the house by the time you make it out the front door, shotgun in hand. Now you're closer you can see the ash-grey hair, the sword swinging at his hip. At this distance, you can also see the nervous smile on his face. Reluctantly, you lean the shotgun against the door jam.

He stops a few respectful paces away, and you let your eyes flit over him scornfully. “You’ve got guts, showing up here again.”

Semi winces. He knew not to expect a warm welcome, especially with how he left, but he hadn’t expected this. You don’t look the same as he remembers - more worn, more beaten down by the ebb and flow of life than he had hoped. There is a new assertiveness that you wear, still a few sizes too big for you to fill out properly but nonetheless folding strong and confident across your shoulders. It speaks to many years alone, being forced to grow up too quickly.

He supposes that’s partially his fault though.

“What do you want?” you ask, chin tilted up. Defiant as always. He’s glad that hasn’t changed.

“I’m… the war’s over. I came home.”

“Home?” You sound incredulous, a mocking edge to your voice.

“Yes,” Semi says, uncertainty beginning to cloud his words. “To you.”

You scoff. It seems the years have gifted you with a certain bitterness; he can not fault you for it, but it still grates at his rose-tinted memories. You were never a particularly joyful child - joy wasn’t a luxury people like you and he could afford - but there was a hope he remembered, a desperate spark that you’d imbue into the stories you’d tell the younger kids. The woman in front of him today deals only in blunt, unsavoury realities.

“Home to me,” you repeat, nodding slowly. Your tone is less than impressed. “Tell me-” you cock your head, contempt in every move, “since when do you leave your home without even a goodbye?”

You can see the confusion in the furrow of his brow. How could he not know?

“I’m sorry, I-” he shifts, looking less like a war-hardened soldier and more like the lanky 17-year-old you knew all those years ago. “I wasn't brave enough.”

“And yet you were brave enough to go fight in a war that's stretched on for years.” You bite your tongue, frustration welling up because you want to hug him forever but you also can’t let yourself slip up. He’s a soldier. He left. You have the younger kids to think about too, and you aren’t going to let him come in and destroy this family you have fought tooth and nail for.

“You seem like you’re doing OK now.”

“Yeah, now,” you bite back. “I’m doing OK now because I survived long enough to get out of the city walls. Barely. You can’t just waltz back in here like you never left.”

“I had to go, they needed me.”

“They needed you?! What about Tsutomu?”

He looks sheepish at that. Maybe you're finally getting through to him.

“He had you?” he tries.

Then again, how could he know? He may have seen horrors fighting for six long years, but Semi left before the city really began to fall apart. You have survived your own nightmares. Humanity is capable of more atrocities than just war.

“Of course he had me, I wasn't going to abandon him after his own brother did.” It's a low blow, but you can't find it in yourself to care. “But that doesn’t erase the fact I was one girl! I was struggling to feed my own siblings let alone yours! Do you think young girls can find work in the city? Do you think I could protect all of the kids?”

You’re shaking now, animated in your fury, and the words are pouring out faster and more uncontrolled than you had imagined. You have had six years to think of what you would say to Semi if he ever came home, but right now you can't remember a word of the carefully scathing speeches you had drafted in those long nights. This is far less elegant, nothing more than the messy sum of repressed emotions and long-forgotten promises.

“You left! When I needed you! You left me alone, just to-” you angrily smear your tears, jaw clenching, “-to go fight in some stupid war they already had thousands of men to fight.”

“You had the others, and I couldn’t just-”

The door behind you creaks.

“Go back to your siblings, Kei,” you say, not turning.

Semi’s eyes are pulled to the proud arch of a young boy’s head. For someone with dirt smeared across his cheek and a sun-bleached shirt, the kid holds himself with something akin to royal grace. Semi would be impressed if he didn’t recognise the faux bravado as the carefully cultivated shield it is. He used to wear the same brand of armour.

“You sure?” the boy asks, a well-worn aloofness in his tone that that shouldn’t belong to someone still so young. If life hasn’t been kind to you, it has been rougher for this kid.

“I’m sure.” You turn, finally, and Semi catches the edge of your smile. He wonders if it still pulls higher on one side like it used to. He wonders if you still remember that secret handshake you made him learn all those years ago, if you still love the sunflowers that used to grow in the upper circles of the city, if you still get that faraway look in your eye when you get lost in the labyrinth of your own mind.

It’s jarring, Semi thinks as he watches the final nasty look thrown his way before the boy disappears back into the doorway. The image these memories paint is so out of sync with the woman he sees before him now, and no amount of reminiscing will bring them back together.

“So… who’s he?”

Impassiveness slides back over your face, the momentary softness slipping out of sight. “His family has also been torn away by this war. We stick together because we have no one else. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Come on, please,” Semi starts. This is not how he expected this reunion to go. He takes a tentative step forward. “I know you’re angry, but I truly never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to keep you and the kids safe.”

You don’t shake off his careful hand on your shoulder; you’re not sure you could. The fight is draining from your body, and as the anger recedes, you start to see him come into focus. The dusty bandage wrapped around his hand, the lines running deep around his eyes. Maybe you had survived your own nightmares, but you were a fool to think that made his any lighter.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pressing closer. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen to you, but I’d do it again. I’m sorry I had to leave you and the kids, but I don’t regret going to fight.”

“And I don’t hate you for wanting to fight,” you relent, finally meeting his eyes. They’re sadder now, yet he can’t help feel relieved that the animosity has drained away.

You shrug, pained smile stuck awkwardly on your face. “But you still left us.”

Somehow, the lack of anger makes your words cut deeper. They have lost their accusing edge, replaced with a blunt resignation that makes his heartache. There’s resentment rallying in his stomach against your disappointment, and it mixes unpleasantly with the hope he had walked up to you with.

“I said I’m sorry, didn’t I?” He can hear the annoyance leaking through, and from the line of tension that returns to your shoulders, so do you.

There’s a long moment, full of memories and chances long lost to history, where all you can feel is the inevitable beginnings of a new battle. The lamentable reality is that you were never taught how to back down from a challenge; to do so would just send you reeling back down to the bottom of the hard-won steps you had already taken. But haven’t you fought enough? Haven’t you fought your past enough, must you now fight him too?

“You can say sorry all you like, it doesn’t change the past.” Your voice comes out more resigned, less annoyed than you had wanted.

“Why are you so set on the past?” he demands, frustration tearing through the thin blanket of peace that had settled. “I’m here now, trying to make amends and you-”

“I don’t care what’s happening now, I want answers for what happened back then! Why didn’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trusted you, I- I just…” he throws his hands up, pacing a few steps away. “It was something I needed to do. Talking to you wasn’t going to change that.”

“Oh, so I didn’t matter then?” you say, lips pressed together painfully. It’s a wet anger; blurry eyes and choked voice. You had stared down more fearsome men than Semi Eita without a tremble, but his long-forgotten familiarity somehow makes this so much harder. “My opinion didn’t matter, my life didn’t-”

“Don’t be stupid, of course you mattered! Why do you think I left, huh? You and Tsutomu matter more than anything else-”

“Well that’s not what it seemed like to me and Tsutomu!” you yell back, sick to your stomach. “One day you were here, and the next you were gone! No warning, no nothing! Tsutomu was ten, Semi. TEN.”

He hadn’t been there to see the pieces of your life shatter apart, to see Tsutomu look so confused, to hear him ask, so quiet and ashamed, if it was his fault his brother left. He hadn’t been there to see you patch your family back together with tape you couldn’t even afford and promises you literally bled to uphold.

“I was fighting to protect you-”

“You left us for dead.”

“You would be dead if they had reached the city! What was I supposed to do? Sit back and let others die for me while I did nothing?”

You huff, dragging a hand over your eyes. Your shoulder aches. “So you thought the military needed one extra person? One extra body, that’s all it took to win the war?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groans.

“Do I?” you fire back, leaning forward into his personal space. “Do I know? Because I was of the understanding we were a team, and then you left without a word!”

He can tell from your face you are just as frustrated at this conversation going in circles as he is. And he knows you have a point - he did leave without saying anything, and it’s a guilt that still weighs on him. But in his core, he knows he is right too. Why shouldn’t he want to defend his home? Why shouldn’t he have gone?

“I did what I had to protect you and the kids.” His voice drops into a low anger that holds more fury than any scream could. “I’m not going to apologise for wanting to protect what I love, no matter if you appreciate it or not.”

Your eyes dart between his, narrowed and searching. There’s definitely more underlying those words, years of unspoken almosts that had to be forgotten. Even just saying that much dredges up old memories he thought long gone, lost to time and unfortunate circumstance.

“I’d appreciate not being left alone to feed-”

“Stop being dramatic, you weren’t alone. The kids are smart, and W-”

“They were literally kids!" you flare, tongue cutting with scorn sharper than any blade he's faced. "What, you wanted me to let Yachi go work in the factories? Let Tsutomu go fight in the pits? We both know that would have been a death sentence.”

“You had Wakatoshi, and-”

“Wakatoshi died!”

Semi has been stabbed before. It’s a strange sensation; if there’s enough adrenalin flooding your veins, it almost feels like nothing more than a poke. But slowly, a creeping realization will set in as the wetness of your shirt becomes too much to ignore and your eyes are drawn irrevocably down. It’s only then the pain will hit you.

This doesn’t feel like that. This is immediate pain, your words splattering sharp and bright across his chest. He stutters back a step, breaths coming in short and shallow bursts.

“What… who...”

Your lips are pressed together, face turned away from him. The breath you pull in is shaky, and when you meet his eyes, they’re apologetic and guilty.

“The… the town guard caught Tsutomu trying to pocket medicine for me, and they were going to take him but Wakatoshi stepped in and it all happened so fast I…” a breathy sigh escapes you, right on the cusp of a sob. “I’m so sorry Eita, I didn’t mean to tell you like that.”

“It’s-”

It’s not OK. Wakatoshi has been a reliable fixture in Semi’s life for years, unshakable through everything. His certainty was something Semi had always admired. And despite his severity, there was a gentleness to his composure - lifting the kids up onto his shoulders during the rare parades or quietly teaching them how to play knucklebones. It’s unthinkable, for Semi to have survived this war but Wakatoshi to not.

“I’m OK,” he says.

The quiet hand you lay on his arm doesn’t help, only serving to remind him that you lost Wakatoshi too. And maybe he lost you a long time ago too. Just one more thing to add to the never-ending list of all he’s lost to this war.

Semi can only laugh, a bitter, broken sound that echoes in his own ears. It’s an ugly thing; to fight and bleed and sacrifice for a country that has never done anything for you, only to come home and be slapped with everything else that’s slipped away in the process. Of course his selflessness would be repaid in frayed relationships and lost friends.

“I’m OK,” he repeats, because he needs it to be true this time.

“Are you?” you ask, concern slipping in under the blunt question. He wants to laugh again. You always have asked the hard questions.

Your hand slides up to cup his cheek, palm rough but touch gentle against his skin, and he leans into it rather than answer. With his eyes closed, for just this moment, he can almost believe reality isn’t quite as bleak as it actually is.

When he opens them your head is tilted, looking up at him with exhausted but understanding eyes. Sighing, your head falls forward to knock against his chest. You shoulders slump, and he slowly reaches around to grasp the back of your shirt. It’s still messy between you, and he knows this is only the beginning of a long road back to the trust you shared before.

Yet as your arms come up to wrap around him too, he thinks maybe there’s hope for him.

“I missed you,” you whisper into his shirt.

Maybe even hope for you and him. It might not ever be the same, but that is a battle to be faced later.

For now, he finally lets the tears come. For Wakatoshi. For everything he went through, for everything he put you and Tsutomu through. For the simple relief of not having to fight anymore.

He feels your arms tighten around his waist.

“It’s OK,” you tell him, and he thinks, someday, he might just believe you.

#semi x reader #semi eita x reader #haikyuu x reader #this is so sad #and so longggggggggggg #and for WHAT

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tooweirdforyou · 3 years

Note

Just saw the plus size reader request and imma on the bigger side so thank you for writing it. Can I be annoying and as for a the same shy plus size reader head-canons but with Nami, Robin and Usopp for by Bi ass needs some love.

Nami, Robin + Usopp With A Plus Size! S/O

A/N : I’d gladly do this, I love this so much. And plus, my gorgeous Straw Hat ladies are getting love, and even Usopp. 🤧 I respect Usopp so much, he’s really grown as a character.

Summary : just some sweet headcannons for Nami, Robin and Usopp, with a shy, insecure, chubby significant other.

Nami

Nami cares about appearances a little. She has a slim and slender figure, she’s fawned over by everyone she meets, so her standards are a little high.

But once she meets you and how amazingly sweet and loving you are, she doesn’t care at all about your looks, because she’s actually pretty insecure too.

When you start acting shy around her, she finds it entertaining and cute. Maybe you’re just insecure and nervous, so she’ll playfully tease you.

However, as soon as she learns of your insecurity, her heart shatters into a million pieces. You were upset about your appearance? Why? She’d be disappointed in herself for teasing you too. She shouldn’t have done that.

She’s direct, blunt and gets to the point when she confronts you. She’ll scold you for being so dense and thinking like that, before she’ll comfort you and pull you to her chest, hugging you tight. She’ll hide her small tears that are threatening to spill because of your negative thoughts about yourself.

When Nami sees you aren’t eating, she’ll lecture you about it and force you to eat some tangerines to get your energy and get you healthy. Then when it’s dinner time, she’ll sit and watch you eat until you finish your plate. She’ll make sure Luffy doesn’t try to steal from you either.

When other people are making fun of you, she won’t hesitate to electrocute them with her climatact, and she’s not going to back down from yelling in their face and standing up for you either.

She’ll wander the whole island, shopping and spending money to buy you new clothes that she thinks you’ll look good in and clothes that you like, before buying you a bunch of things you want as well. No cost at all.

She’s not one to initiate affection first, but if you’re feeling particularly down, she’s bringing you to the bedroom to cuddle and she’ll kiss you all over. If she has to, she’ll show you just how much you mean to her. She loves you, and she’ll never want anyone else but you.

“Don’t even think about thinking badly about yourself again, okay? I love you and anyone who dares to say a word about you is getting punched.”

Usopp

Usopp does not care at all about your appearance. He just wants someone who can support him and share laughs with, who also enjoys his little inventions and be with him throughout the crew’s adventures.

You’re shy around him? Usopp is right there with you. This boy is the most shy around their significant other, always shaking and stuttering, and he rambles so much, it’s so cute. He won’t even notice you’re shy because Usopp is too, you’re not alone.

He literally just wants you to be happy, he’ll do anything to see your smile because it fills his heart with so much warmth, especially when he’s the one who made you smile. He’ll tell endless lies and stories to bring you joy, even if you know they’re fake.

When he realizes the real reason you’re acting shy around him, his whole world is destroyed. How can someone so precious like you, be feeling insecure about yourself? That’s supposed to be his thing.. there was nothing wrong with you at all. In his eyes, you were the light of his life. So why did you think so badly about yourself?

At first, Usopp would discreetly try to cheer you up, by making you smile more and making jokes, complimenting how you look in your outifts or how you look that particular day. Maybe even ask to take you out to spend time together in public, to distract you from your thoughts.

After a while, he’ll confront you directly. He’ll give a soft smile and ask if you’re feeling okay, or why you’re feeling sad. He’ll then turn serious and remind you that you are amazing. That there’s no one else like another, everyone is different and unique, and you’re perfect the way you are now. He loves you.

When he sees you’re not eating, Usopp will ask Sanji for some food, even if he says no, he’ll just find some, and then he’ll give it to you to make sure you eat. If you want, he’ll eat a little with you but he wants to make sure you’re eating. He wants you to be okay. He’ll have Chopper check your health daily until it’s normal.

Usopp will muster up the courage to ask you if he can show his affection. He’ll be incredibly shy about it but in the end, he’ll give his signature grin as he hugs you tightly and gives you kisses on the face, to display his love for you. He’ll make inventions to show off to you, or inventions to make you happier.

If anyone says anything bad about you, he doesn’t even think straight and won’t hesitate to stand up for you and get angry. He’ll then make a fool out of the people who hurt you, using his special attack seeds. God Usopp will always be there to protect you.

“Smile for me, okay? You are perfect in my eyes. You are my world. God, that was cheesy- but I mean it! Okay? I love you, [Name].”

Robin

Robin is in between as well. She wouldn’t really care about looks as much as Nami, but she has class. Robin is elegant and sophisticated.

However, she just wants someone to be there for her and to protect her, and after meeting you, appearances are disappeared from the head. All she cares about is how loving you are towards her.

If you’re starting to act shy around her, Robin won’t say anything but becomes a bit discouraged and concerned. Did she do something to make you so uncomfortable? She was sure you were more easy around her before you two were together so what happened?

When she finally finds out, she’s heartbroken. Were you really feeling so down because of your own self? As smart as she was, she was pained and hurt that she couldn’t have done anything.

When she confronts you, it’s not very direct, but it’s hinted. She’ll ask if you’re feeling alright, and remind you that if you’re feeling down, that she and the crew are there by your side. She give you small compliments here and there to remind you that she loves you for you.

Robin will sprout hands to restrain you by force, and then feed you herself if you’re not eating. She’ll open your mouth and tell you to chew and swallow to eat, because she wants you to be healthy, not starve yourself.

Before anyone could even say anything bad about you, Robin is already cracking their spines with her hands and slapping them aside. No one is going to hurt you in front of her, not on her watch.

Robin’s not too affectionate, so how she’ll cheer you up is by staying closer to you. She’ll sit by you in the same room and be doing her own thing, or share her activities with you. Then, she’ll start doing small things for you, like leaving you snacks and helping you with the smallest errands, just to make your life easier.

She adores your curves, she doesn’t want you to change. She wants you to be yourself and be happy with yourself, because she’s happier with you when you’re happy too. She never wants you to frown or be sad, or shed any tears unless they’re of joy. She’s pretty insecure once or a couple times herself, so she understands. She just wants you to be happy.

“I love you for who you are, [Name]-san. Don’t forget that. You’re already very attractive and heavenly in my eyes.”

a/n : I hope you enjoyed!! :D sorry if these seem a bit repetitive but I wanted this quickly out for you, especially with all my piled up requests, haha. 🤍

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #nami x reader #one piece nami #nico robin #nico robin x reader #robin x reader #usopp x reader #one piece usopp #god Usopp

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Note

Dick and Jason are Robins at the same time

(titans ‘verse. au after 1.06)

(tagging @superohclair and @cautiousamber!)

dick has to admit that it’s not the worst arrangement: jason continues to be robin in gotham, and dick travels across the country with his little family while running from a homicidal cult, wearing the costume every now and then when he has no choice but to fight. this way batman is covered, dick still has access to some advanced gear and weaponry now that he needs it, and internet sleuths are kept on their toes when robin shows up in different ends of the country on the same day.

so what if reading news coverage of batman and robin in gotham feels like being punched in the chest, or hearing jason’s stories about learning new things from bruce everyday makes dick want to scream into a pillow? he is fine with this.

he. is. fine--

(kory knows he’s fraying at the edges. she watches, and she says nothing.)

the fight to help rachel and defeat trigon is long and hard, and involves painstakingly unravelling kory’s memories. they manage to find her spaceship, and it becomes their base for a good long while. they stay there long enough that dick loses some of the tension that’s had him on edge for... well. the better part of the last five years, to be honest.

dick begins training rachel and gar in earnest. kory is able to coax some memories of tamaranean cuisine and culture out, and dick is reminded more and more of the team that he lost everyday. despite his best efforts he’s invested now. he cooks and dances with kory (good thing he’s so flexible because the tamaranean version of a waltz is like a particularly sadistic game of twister), teaches rachel algebra and does yoga with gar. he even manages to forget about bruce for a bit.

jason shows up quite often when he figures out where they’re based, and after some initial tension, he becomes an unofficial member of their team (though at this stage dick is still reluctant to use that word). dick and jason patrol in the nearby city some nights, then go for ice cream later. dick’s even starting to see the strategic (and frankly comedic) potential of two robins on the same patrol.

time and familiarity softens how dick perceives jason: less reckless asshole and more bright young kid full of curiosity and a need to prove himself. he continues to tend towards gratuitous violence, but dick learns his triggers and helps jason recognise them as well. he soaks up the info on alien cultures and battles on kory’s ship faster than dick himself could hope to, and there is a terrible sort of tenderness to how he talks to the people he saves while on patrol. terrible, dick thinks, because he doesn’t know if he comes across like that now at all: soft and empathetic instead of aloof and shaking, too caught up in his own neuroses.

here’s the thing, the crux of it, the faultline that’s always threatening to break dick apart: he’s so afraid that he’s taken robin, his legacy, the ideals and persona that he modelled as a tribute to his parents, and made it into something so dark and broken that only batman could pass it on. jason showing up as his replacement one day only seemed to affirm that fear. but now, swinging through the skies with this kid who’s taken robin as an opportunity to learn and grow and be better, dick’s reminded of the best of his early days in the costume.

for the first time in what feels like forever, dick feels good about putting on the robin costume again.

(are you asking if dick tried to call home? of course he did. he chickens out and cuts the call to bruce after only a few rings, and feels a sad sort of vindication in noticing how bruce never attempts to call him back.

alfred picks up his call on the second ring, and dick feels like the smallest person in the world when he hears the genuine warmth, joy and relief in alfred’s voice as he greets him. there’s no excuse for dick refusing to talk to the man that practically raised him after his parents died and he knows it.

they talk for an hours while skirting around anything to do with bruce, which is an impressive feat all in itself. they finally talk about jason, and there’s a wistful sort of fondness in alfred’s voice as he says, “you’ve been a good influence on master jason.”

dick laughs. “he’s been a good influence on me.” it’s the first time he’s said it loud, but it feels true.

“you mustn’t underestimate the ways in which you change people, master dick,” alfred says. “you have been a light in our lives for so long.”

dick’s jaw clenches. all his memories of batman smudge together in never-ending shadow; when he thinks of bruce, he can only remember that remote expression on his face, that expression dick can project all his disgust and loathing and disappointment onto. maybe people should start considering how they influence me, dick wants to say. sometimes i can’t recognise who i’m seeing in the mirror every day and other times i hate him so much i want to--

“i miss you, alf,” he says instead, softly.

“my dear boy,” alfred starts, but he sounds choked. it’s ok. dick understands.)

things get worse, quickly. their enemies find and destroy their spaceship base, and they’re not nearly ready to take on trigon yet. they’re on the run again, alternating between motel rooms and empty warehouses.

the cult finally catches up to them; they are kidnapped and tortured for days in an abandoned asylum. they eventually escape, the building and the organisation in flames behind them, but the scars from the experience are deep: rachel is anxious and tearful almost all the time, gar’s usual cheer is replaced by a quiet, simmering self-loathing, kory refuses to talk about her experience but flinches at every touch, and dick... he feels like he’s been flayed, his mind and body laid raw and bleeding until nothing recognisable, nothing human is left. he can’t think, he can barely feel. half the time it feels like he’s observing what’s happening to him like it’s happening to somebody else entirely.

they’re a mess. he can’t do this, not when he feels like--like this. he resists calling anybody for help, but one night he breaks down and calls donna. he doesn’t remember what he says on the call, but wakes up the next morning, eyes raw, tear tracks on his face, and a text from donna that says: i’ll be there in a day. stay put, bw,

“wow you’re a mess,” jason says from a corner of the room. any other time, dick would be on his feet, demanding to know how jason found them. now though, he’s feeling out of his body again, and so he says, “i kind of am, aren’t i?” and watches the words float, parting the air above him.

jason sighs.

being with donna helps get his head on straight, even though at first her appearance threatened to bring back even more traumatic memories. she’s a soothing, sobering presence not just for him, but for the others as well. they continue to motel-hop as they prepare for their big final battle against trigon.

jason continues to find them, somehow. (dick wouldn’t put installing a tracker on one of them beyond him, but he’s much too tired to feel angry about that.) he chats with dick and sometimes they bond by watching a movie together or swinging from buildings in the chill, crisp night air, jason’s cackling laugh echoing in dick’s ears.

jason always leaves as quickly as he appears, but dick is grateful for his presence.

they defeat trigon, and there’s a party. even hank and dawn show up. jason is conspicuous in his absence.

after several unanswered texts and calls, dick bites the bullet and calls alfred. “hey alf,” he says when the man picks up, “is jason there?”

there’s a long pause at the other end of the line. then: “did master bruce not tell you?” his voice sounds uncharacteristically hoarse.

dick’s stomach starts to sink. he steps away from the others and into a quiet room. “tell me what?”

“master jason...” alfred sighs. “he--he was killed by the joker two months ago. the funeral was last week.”

dick stumbles back to sit on the bed. the phone threatens to fall from his numb fingers even while his heart thunders against his ribs. “that’s impossible,” he manages. “i saw him five days ago. we saw--” there’s a hysterical laugh building in his chest, howling like a thunderstorm, “fuck we saw moulin rogue together. he told me how much he fucking loves musicals, i--”

alfred’s voice is suddenly distant and tinny. dick looks down to see his phone on the floor. he’s suddenly very, very aware of the dryness of his palms, the hot flush at the tips of his ears, the tears that are starting to slide down his cheeks, the way his lungs are burning with shock and grief and rage--

“hey, dickie,” jason says, smiling at him. “glad you finally caught up.”

( send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons! )

#this got completely out of control #yikes #titans #my fic #dick grayson #jason todd #a byronic cupcake #a tragic jalebi #cw mental illness #ptsd #please let me know if i should tag/warn for anything #sillierthanasillylaugh

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leviackermannsupremacy · 3 years

Text

gone.

- 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! - 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝, 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐲. 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭.

𝐀/𝐍 - 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭!

𝐌𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥, 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭

𝐌𝐦𝐦, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭

Levi Ackerman has always loved and lost. No matter how his deepest desire is to keep those he treasures the most alive, his sacrifice never seems to work when it came to those he devoted his heart. He lost many people throughout his life: a mother, his friends, his cadets and now his lover.

Captain L/N was a ray of sunshine in the cruel world Levi was forced to live in. She was the most stunning thing he could ever call his, and he loved her beyond words could even explain. She made him believe gods had walked on the Earth, in the very ground she stepped in, as her aura was something only a godly, out of this world creature could ever possess. He was hers and she was his, and that’s all Levi Ackerman could ever ask.

Y/N was someone too good to grace this damned place. Too pure, too honest and too kind. She was one to sacrifice her life for someone else to live even longer than her kind soul should’ve had. And it pained Levi to know she went down with kindness in heart. If only she would’ve been a little selfish, a little bit less pure-hearted, then Levi could still hold her in his empty arms. She was taken away from him, as if the angels wanted her back. As if his saving miracle wasn’t supposed to last. As if she was meant to make him happy for the remaining years that he had.

But Y/N lasted less time than her beautiful soul should had.

It had been 2 years and 3 months since Captain L/N left Levi’s warmth. Since she was taken by that awful being that Levi shred to pieces after the catastrophe was caused. And Levi still wakes up thinking that all of that was an awful, terrible dream. That he gets to wake up to see his beautiful girlfriend sleeping right next to him. That he gets to hug her and kiss her, that he can let her know how much she means to him and how he would destroy this very Earth to protect her from anything.

But Levi Ackerman failed. He failed to protect Y/N.

He was unable to keep his promise and he damns himself for failing her. He knows he shouldn’t had failed her, and he constantly blames himself for being such a failure. He thinks he should be the one gone. Not Y/N. Never his dear Y/N.

But then he thinks that if he left, then Y/N would’ve been left in pain and in sorrow; and he would never want his significant other to feel such a burning agony, that it felt as if your chest was aching with an eternal fire. He only wanted happiness for the two of them, for her, as he knows the hells that she had endured and survived. He knows that it traumatized her even in her very last day. So all he wanted was happiness, she deserved happiness.

And he wonders whether she is happy now. If she can still feel what he feels so deeply for her. All that love that he has for her in his heart. How he wishes every single day for her to come back, to able to see her smile and cherish her warmth.

All Levi thinks is about her. About how much he loves her and how he would give the world to bring her back. About the future they could’ve had, the house they would’ve made, the children they would’ve protected and how they would’ve grown old and wrinkly but with the same passion for each other like the very first time. However, all of that, his favorite wish, was taken from him. So now, all he can do is hope that she can hear his thoughts, as dumb as it may sound; and that she still loves him with the same strength that he loves her back.

Levi woke up with dry tears staining his salty cheeks. His breathing was labored and an aching pressure felt strong in his burning chest. His eyes were a bloodshot red, still wet with tears that threatened to fall from the misery he found himself in.

He had that awful nightmare again. The one were you where gone.

So he turned to look beside him, once again thinking it was all an awful dream inside his head, and that he would turn and see his beautiful girlfriend sleeping soundly right next to him. But the place next to him was empty, cold and untouched, a pillow claiming the space where Y/N L/N’s warm figure should’ve been in. The knot in his throat tighten with even more strength and the tears that once threatened to leave, cascaded down his face.

"So it wasn't a dream...Y/N...."

That name that now was so distant yet still held that familiarity and love that Levi once would say daily, with a hint of annoyance in his tone, was painful for Levi to say. Or to even listen too. Because that name belonged to someone he loved with all his fiery heart. He rubbed his face and brushed a hand through his ever-growing locks, in an attempt to calm his fast-beating heart. However, the action only brought him pain as it reminded him how Y/N would run her soft, calloused hands through his tangled locks and brush his hair till his breathing turned soft and gentle.

While it brought him pain, it also brought him a little bit of happiness, as Levi remembered her angelic voice and laughter that would erupt from her lips as she would torture him to let her brush his hair and tie it to a little ponytail as much as his hair would allow. Although he still wasn’t fully accustomed to such level of affection, he would let his walls down for his significant other. He would allow Y/N to do whatever she wanted, as the action brought her happiness, and to him too.

The happy memory pained Levi’s heart, so much that soft sobs left his mouth as tears continued to cascade down.

"Why are you crying, Levi?" A sweet, feminine voice asked. "You know that I don't like it when you cry, love."

Levi’s head looked up so fast, it almost gave him severe whiplash. But it didn’t matter at the time, since right in front of him, sitting in their bed, was Y/N. His dear, beloved Y/N. Her figure was blurry, a small ring of light surrounding her figure, but she was there and pretty visible to him. She was wearing a long, white gown and her silky hair was down, while her stunning E/C eyes stared right at his grey ones full with concern and loving.

"Please stop crying, love." She said, as her hands went to the side of his face and held it with such a warmth and gentleness that it threatened to break Levi’s heart. It had been such a long time since Levi felt her warmth, so, so long that the touch almost felt foreign to him. He couldn’t believe this was happening, it almost felt like another dream to him.

But it was real. So Levi gently put his hands on top of hers, as if scared of damaging her in any sort of way, and softly succumbed into her touch. He closed his eyes and a small smile decorated his lips as he enjoyed his lovers touch.

"Are you really here, Y/N?"

A small giggle reached his ears and then, “Of course I am here, silly. I’m always with you, Levi.”

The words only further made his heart flutter with love, but he knew the cruel reality of the moment happening right now. It wasn’t the first time she visited him ever since that fateful day, but it’s been a long time since she came that he almost forgot the price they paid.

"But you are gonna leave soon, aren't you?" Levi opens his eyes to observe his lover and sees a small frown in her beautiful face,"Let’s not talk about that right now, okay? Let us enjoy this moment, please?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He said, “Come here.” He opened his arms wide and let Y/N climb over to him and held her head against his chest and she laid down deep in his embrace. He knew she could hear and feel his fast-beating heart, but he was so happy that he couldn’t give a damn. “I have missed you so much, Levi.” She whispered, “You have no idea how badly I have wanted to see you.” “I have missed you too, brat.” Y/N giggled at the nickname Levi was so fond of saying. She smiled widely and buried her face even more into his chest. “So tell me, what have you done while I’ve been gone. Have the cadets given you a hard time?”

“Eren is a pain in the ass like always, no surprise there. But he has been behaving more like a decent human being as of lately.” “That’s good. I’m glad he is doing good. I also miss him and his temper.” “I would be more than happy to be away from that damned brat and his temper.” Y/N only laughed and kept on listening to Levi and his stories about the cadets. She had no idea how much joy Levi was feeling in his dull heart. How much happiness her visit had brought him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He still loved her with all his heart and all he wished was that this night wouldn’t end any time soon. But before his thoughts turned sour, he showered his lovers head with kisses and continued filling her in about the cadets and all the shit he’s done.

The couple spent the rest of their time together cuddling, talking and even joking about certain things they both remembered. They were spending such a splendid time that they both forgot their time together was limited.

Y/N, noticing their time together was coming to an end as she felt her connection to the world slowly fade, sighed and sat down in the bed. She turned to look at her lover, and with heartbreak in her chest, she said, “Levi, I am so sorry to break this to you, but it’s time for me to leave.”

The Captain, too happy to have his girlfriend back, was taken aback with her statement as it completely left his mind that this was only meant to last a few couple of hours. And all that joy and eternal happiness he felt minutes ago was replaced with the constant aching that lingered in his chest.

"You don't have to leave, you can stay."

"I wish I could, Levi.” Y/N said with a sad smile, “But if that was reality, I would have stayed long ago. Ever since my first visit."

The Captain sighed and all he did was bring his lover to an embrace and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He smelled her scent, trying to not forget her sweet, soothing smell. He almost forgot it before, since it had been a long time since he saw her face and the scent of her in her clothes was becoming weaker as he slept with some of her shirts next to him due to the calmness they brought him.

As Levi pulled back from his lover, he saw her figure slowly start fading away. All he did, as he knew time was coming to an end, was stare at her beautiful face to capture all her stunning features, even the most tinniest of them. He wouldn’t forget her face, he’d be damned if he did.

“I love you, Levi Ackerman. Please remember that.”

All Levi did was continue to stare at her since, if he opened his mouth, all that would leave were the violent sobs that wanted to leave his breaking vessel. He tried to grab his girlfriends hand, but as her body was fading now at an alarmingly fast pace, it went right through her.

Noticing this, she offered him one last smile and said, “Levi, please take care of yourself and remember that I will always love you.”

Levi closed his eyes to try to hide the pain in his eyes and took one long breath to try to control his burning chest. He was losing his composure and he didn’t want the last thing that Y/N saw was his saddened tears. Once he felt composed enough, after several long breaths, he opened his mouth and said, “I love you too, Y/N.”

But when he opened his eyes, his lover was long gone from his reach and the sight left his heart aching into pieces. The composure he so desperately tried to uphold shattered as he processed the situation.

And Captain Levi Ackerman started to cry.

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littlestarlost · 3 years

Text

what happened.

All this hunger is Always following us Out where we survive under poisonous skies They’re dreaming, but nobody’s sleeping Just coked hearts speeding See all the gold teeth gleaming See all the young, healthy free men Just move into nothing

(CW: discussion of mental health, trauma, PTSD)

A version of this post has been sitting in my drafts folder for ten months. I know this, because I originally began to write it around late January, just in time for the one-year mark to have passed since I’d last updated Setting Sun. When I posted that most recent update, I had just turned 30 years old, and I promised that it would not be another year before the next update. I wanted, so badly, for that to be true. In hindsight, it’s honestly better that I failed to keep that promise; I fear it might have exacerbated the damage that’s already been done, and made the healing process that much harder.

It’s been nearly two years. I want to talk about what happened.

I first began to write about Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov because I recognized myself so keenly in them; Yuuri’s high-achieving anxiety and imposter syndrome, and Victor’s quietly functional depression. When I found YOI, I was in grad school; I was winning awards, the top of my class, and utterly terrified that it was all a sham. Being able to channel those emotions through these characters helped me realize my own greatness, to embody it and walk with confidence and bravado. It allowed me to go into my post-degree job search with my head held high, trusting that all the lessons I had learned would lead me to professional success. Yuuri and Victor walked through life with me, two shadows of my own psyche, two people who helped me understand myself.

The first few months of the job were fine. Then things became less than fine, and then continued to descend into the kind of mundane nightmare that only multinational corporate legal firms could manifest. Setting Sun, a story about love and self-acceptance and joy, began to twist around in on itself. I don’t want to go into detail, but suffice to say that I spent nearly two years being gaslit and abused, told I was worthless, constantly having panic attacks as I desperately tried to exert control over things that were way over my head. My body betrayed me; I was in so much pain I couldn’t walk, so stressed I couldn’t bring myself to eat unless I’d smoked weed to calm the nausea. I began to believe that I had peaked in grad school, that I was fooling myself, that I was going to be trapped in that cubicle for the rest of my life, doing grunt work without challenge or interest, in the kind of workplace where you get reported to HR for sighing too loudly. That is a thing that actually fucking happened to me; nobody asked why I might be sighing, and nobody stopped by to check in when I spent most days in tears. This was a place where less than half the people in the room put up their hands when asked if they had ever been creative as kids. This was a place where I almost never got to see the sun.

Because I was massively overqualified and even more massively underworked, I spent a lot of 2018 writing fanfic--my zine pieces, my zutara pieces, all sorts of creative things. I also began to write horror AUs; two stories, in particular, gained a fair amount of traction on this particular platform. When I look back now, I see them for the coping mechanisms that they were; in the case of the crossroads AU, where Yuuri is willing to sell his soul to the devil just to escape his commute, it wasn’t even particularly subtle. I poured all my energy into creative pursuits; it’s been my outlet my whole life, and for a while it helped. By the time I hit the SCP-9874 AU, I burned out so profoundly and utterly that it destroyed my relationship to YOI and cauterized the pieces. SCP-9874 was one of the most creative things I’ve ever done, but it also involved what is, in hindsight, a shocking level of violence and horror inflicted on these characters who were such a close part of me. I was doing this to them because I was hurting, all the time. I now recognize it as the cry for help that it was, and to this day I fantasize about taking down all the SCP-9874 posts and excising that portion of my legacy as much as possible.

I wrote Setting Sun’s 21st chapter in honour of my 30th birthday, in late January of 2019. Somehow, at the time, I didn’t realize how rough it was. How much it implied about me and how I was doing. How much it reflected the true extent of the damage I was suffering. I left Victor and Yuuri in an abandoned apartment with more questions than answers and more regrets than they or I had ever thought possible, and I thought, somehow, that this was a good turning point. Little did I know at the time that the worst was still to come.

I was able to finally escape that toxic office last October, when I found a new job that paid nearly double and was everything I wanted to do in life and more. But Yuri on Ice hurt too much to think about, even as time marched forward and I began to heal. I had PTSD flashbacks to the old office; I dealt with echo upon echo of terror that everything would fall away to reveal I was trapped in the same old nightmare again. In January 2020, I actually took a few days off for my birthday and reread Setting Sun from the beginning, and I’d somehow forgotten how funny it is, how sweet it is, how hopeful. I had completely forgotten; it had been burned away by twenty months of agony. That realization hurt more than all the other ones put together, I think. I had a good long cry over that.

Fast forward to now, and people have started to find Setting Sun again. They’ve found it on and off in the months since I updated, and for a very long time I would read the truly lovely comments people wrote--thanking me for writing it, hoping I’d come back someday, wishing me well wherever I was--and I would dissolve into tears because I just...couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to go back to this story that I could no longer recognize myself in. And nowadays, when new commenters come, I will warn them about that last chapter I wrote, because I can recognize it as the outlier it is.

But something has very recently changed.

I couldn’t necessarily tell you exactly what. Maybe it’s that I passed the one-year mark at my new job, and the last of the poison has finally been excised. Maybe it’s because I’m looking at all my writing with new eyes as I prepare to try doing this for a living. Maybe it’s because it’s 2020, and the rules aren’t really relevant anymore. I don’t know. But I can say that, two weekends ago, I opened Setting Sun, and realized that it didn’t seem impossible anymore. I realized that the boys had been through more than enough. We’ve been through more than enough. We deserve the happy ending I always planned to give them, going back four whole years when I first planned out this massive weird tale.

It’s been a very long time. It’s been exactly long enough.

I can’t promise exactly when the final chapter of Setting Sun will arrive. I’m walking back onto previously thin ice, and my footsteps are more than a little hesitant, so as not to cause any undue cracks. But I can remember the joy and humour and fun again; I can conceive of jokes and silliness and sweetness again. My playlist is filling up again, with songs of hope and love instead of anguish and sorrow. The Yuuri and Victor who sit inside my heart are skating; the music is carrying them, the wind is rushing past their ears, their feet feel light again and they want to jump and take flight and make beautiful things.

I have bookended this post with lyrics from a song that’s been on the maybe list for Setting Sun for nearly as long as Setting Sun has existed. It’s a song I love quite profoundly, a song that means a lot to me personally, but I could never manage to make it fit. It’s a song about running away to the big bright city, about being broken on the world’s wheel, and about realizing you just want to go home. It’s a song that’s ostensibly about the tragedy of this process, but right now I’m sitting at my desk, listening to the line I, I, I wanna go back, back, back, back, with grateful tears running down my face, and I’m realizing that it’s not part of Yuuri’s story, nor Victor’s; it’s part of mine. Home may never be the same as when you left, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t waiting for you with open arms.

So that’s what happened.

Put my body on a wagon And carry me off to the ocean Let me float on into the eastern sun Out where tomorrow has just begun Where I used to be wild, back in my time Now I just fight to sleep at night So render me up into the elements Lay me in a light that I can trust Lay me in a light that I can trust Lay me in a light that I come from...

(Gold Teeth, by Hey Rosetta!)

#personal #yuri on ice #writing #minimally edited

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