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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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"Gilded Cage" - Dark!Morpheus x Reader [TW: dark themes (referenced depression and suicide), obsessive behaviour, explicit language, glorifying captivity?, cringy lines]

[Next part: 'Silvered Perch']

SUMMARY: Your unhappiness seeps into your dreams. The pain in them piques Morpheus's interest. From the very first moment he sees you, he knows what he has to do, regardless of the price. A queen, after all, ought not to have a single hair fall from her head.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.3k

This story began when I fell asleep There was a mysterious ache inside me All my faults and thoughts buried deep And in this world, I was nothing and everything A lost soul with too many secrets to keep Looking at the bright streets beneath I was wandering the edge of universe yet I couldn’t leap The cold breeze wrapped around me The Moon and the stars silent as I weep I became the brass and the gold, an abyss and a god L’appel du vide

Your dreams were like an itch he couldn't scratch, a speck of dust he couldn't get out of his eye; always in the back of his head, a shadow dancing at the edge of his vision. Had they been in any way pleasant, he wouldn't mind them as much - God knew how much he needed something pleasant in his otherwise bleak life. But they weren't anywhere close to "nice". The darkness residing in your dreams bothered him to no end, never quite letting him go like a blister that is scratched open with each painful step. Strangely enough, such a course of events was completely foreign to Morpheus - people's dreams and nightmares never stuck to him for longer than the fraction of a second between an exhale and an inhale.

At first, he feared he became privy to the first tremor of a shattering earthquake, that your misery was an omen of something much darker and sinister. Fearing for the well-being of his realm, Morpheus followed your dreams to venture into the Waking World and find you. Honestly, he was expecting to uncover a true calamity but he never did see it - at least not in the form he had thought.

What he saw was, in fact, a lot worse. All calamities have a source, the eye of the storm, but this one clearly didn't. It would all be very bitterly funny if it wasn't so heartbreaking - how everything you touched ended in pain and loneliness, rarely because of you at that. Your frustrations quickly became his own. Watching you go through every day like you were screaming at the world to let you be happy, to let you have something good for a second, but the entirety of creation was separated from you by a glass wall: you could only watch and weep. Were you cursed or hexed? No, he would have noticed something of that sort. Then what was it? What unnamed sorcery made you the scapegoat of humanity?

He once spent an entire night standing under your window like Romeo admiring Juliet. For hours on end, you were sitting with your face against the cold glass, eyes forever watching the moon travel across the black sky. Your tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as your vacant stare begged the universe for an explanation of its injustice. It pained Morpheus how beautiful and tragic you looked. Perhaps you truly weren't of this world? Would you not find your place in a baroque painting? Part of him wished he could paint that heartbreaking view. Not for his selfish pleasure, no, but for the whole world to be reminded of its barbarity until Judgment Day.

And Morpheus simply stood there until sun rays chased the world's dreams and nightmares away. He wasn't quite sure why he remained a watcher for the entire night. Maybe you appeared so distraught and fragile he feared that the moment he looks away the sunless abyss of secrets unspoken will devour you; that if he left his post there would be nothing tying you to this realm.

A lot has changed because of that night but mostly Morpheus himself had undergone some kind of transformation - he became quieter if that was ever possible and more irritable. He would pace around the throne room, clearly thinking intensely about something but never revealing what it was. And with time, he began to neglect his royal duties, disappearing for hours if not days on end, only to come back and refuse to give any explanation.

Little did you know that he was always there like a guardian angel that never abandoned its duty despite being exiled from heaven; hiding around corners as though he was a mere delusion that lingered on the edges of your vision. Wherever you went, he followed, often leaving pain and terror behind. Things started becoming weirder around you in the sense that people would fall to strange ailments or spiral into madness. Some never woke up, while others went for days without sleep. A snarky acquaintance did everything they could to not fall asleep in fear of the nightmares that awaited them. A cynical relative lost their mind and claimed that horrendous creatures from their night terrors trespassed into reality. Perhaps it was crude to say so but you felt a sense of relief at those tragedies: people too busy with their microapocalypses were too busy to add nails to your coffin, too preoccupied with themselves to put you on the receiving end of their wickedness.

But to Morpheus's terror, his tricks and punishments were not enough to aid your woe. They were merely temporary solutions like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. His anger only grew as the universe laughed in his face and continued its merciless quest for maintaining your unhappiness. Morpheus was forced to watch you being stuck in a cruel cycle of perpetual misfortunes and how you'd cry yourself to sleep only to somehow get out of bed in the morning and carried on, day by day. You were akin to Atlas but Atlas only carried the globe, not the peskiness of the cosmos like you did.

The streetlights lit brightly underneath you. Cars and motorbikes sped through the labyrinth of streets as if chasing time itself. Someone was walking their dog, a man was going home after his shift, a couple chatted happily while walking to a restaurant. They were each in their own microcosms, moving to the rhythm of life. All, except you. How could everyone simply live on, find balance and happiness in their unchanged daily bread? Was there something you missed? A secret you were never told? Or, perhaps, the answer was a lot simpler: you didn't deserve contentment. The fact that you came into this world was nothing more but a slip-up, a stumbling step taken while the person blinks.

You looked at the people filling the streets beneath you. From the distance, they were all so small, unimportant, cold. They never looked up to the tops of buildings, never acknowledged the acrobatics of someone struggling to cling to life. Even if they did, they probably wouldn't care - your hypothetical death was, after all, none of their business. Standing on the rooftop, you were no longer part of the same plane as them. Perhaps, you never truly were. Is that what birds saw as they flew over your head?

The rooftop was so high and the street so low... Would it hurt to fall? And the falling, would it take long? Lying on the cold cobblestone, your hot blood warming the otherwise cold world, how would this starry sky look? Would this rooftop look as faraway then as the street looked now? Would the pavement feel rigid and uncomfortable under your broken bones?

But, maybe, you had the strength to try one last time before taking that path. You looked up at the starry firmament and let out a sigh before speaking quietly. "Hey," you called out to the night sky, "if there's anyone out there, and I highly doubt that, can you help me a little? Life's a bitch, you know? I just... I just need a win. Something good, no matter how small, so I don't feel like my entire existence is pointless if not a burden. But if there really is someone out there, you're probably busy anyway. I mean, there's more important work to do than answer my whining, right? Wars to end, cancers to heal... But if you have a spare second, maybe you could give me something good. Or kill me, I don't care anymore."

"I have listened to your prayer and I heard your suffering."

Surprised and confused, you turned around to look at the stranger. He was tall and lanky, with dishevelled hair and a cold look in his eyes. In some strange and fascinating way, he did not look real but rather like a scribble that came to life; like a raven if it was reborn as a human.

"Who are you?"

"I am Morpheus, Lord of the Dreams," he slowly spoke in a low tone. "I came to answer your call."

As strange as it was to admit it, that was the truth: for the first time in your life, somebody answered your prayer. "I'm sorry, I didn't actually think this would work. I'm not much of a believer."

"And yet I came. Why did you call?"

No words left you at first. A shattering, painful tremble clawed through your body as that gaping hole in your chest was reponed. This sadness... it felt like being stabbed; like your body was so numb in its agony that you couldn't breathe. The full moon's silver light glistened in your tears as if it wasn't you weeping but the stars.

"I am violently unhappy," you confessed.

You didn't see it but Morpheus clenched his fist for a moment, which was more than strange - after all, he knew about your misery beforehand. Perhaps it was your admittance, irrefutable proof of your awareness of the injustice bestowed upon you, that gnawed at him. "Why is that?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"God, where do I even begin... It feels like everyone around me has something I don't like a love song only I can't hear. There's something wrong with me, I wasn't meant to be born into this world. I don't belong here. Nothing I do has any value, I can't keep up with the rest. You try and you try and it's never enough. No matter what you do or how. No one cares about your pain until it somehow involves them. I'm just so... tired."

"They will never stop disappointing you," he said as he walked towards you. Whether it was his own belief or merely something you wanted to hear, didn't matter. For Morpheus, it was one and the same.

"Every day I wake up to a web of human lives I've been woven into against my will, fulfil meaningless duties no one likes and yet everyone follows. Then I come back home to rest only for this pointless cycle to begin again in the morning. And I can't help but wonder if there is no third act where I'm someone special? Where I matter? Is this bland suffering all there is?"

"No," he spoke barely above a breath. "There is much, much more to this world. I could free you from this life."

"Free me?" you asked with a dry scoff. "I am as free as one can be: I love nothing and I'm loved by no one."

Morpheus, however, was a steadfast person and that annoying affliction only grew in strength the longer he was in your vicinity as if your presence was gradually gnawing at his sanity. It was an exchange he'd welcome more than warmly: his reason for your companionship. "You could be the pinnacle of my desire, the anger that forces my hand. All that breaks your heart will have to beg for my forgiveness. There shall be no day when all of my existence does not belong to you. I will bleed out just to quench your thirst." He took another step towards you, his face leaning in so close your noses were almost brushing. "If you do not wish for this freedom, let me imprison you." Then, in a wavering voice, he added: "Please."

His offer made your heart nearly jump out of your chest but you knew better than to immediately agree - he didn't deserve such a burden. Feeling shame and disgust with yourself, you looked away from him. "You will change your mind the moment you get to know me. I'm nothing interesting or worth loving."

Morpheus lifted his hand to your face. His index finger anxiously brushed against your cheeks as if you really were a baroque painting that he defiled with his undeserving touch. Morpheus spoke ever so quietly: "Had I whispered your name to Moses, the whole world would watch God's chosen discard the first commandment."

"Sounds blasphemous," you answered equally quietly. When your breath brushed against his cold skin, a shiver run down his spine. Perhaps if he could fill his lungs with your breath he would never feel sorrow ever again.

"Not to the goddess I worship." His blue eyes, the colour of a raging sea, stared into yours. There was so much he wished to say, unspoken confessions that would embarrass poets but he had a lot of time - all of eternity, in fact.

"Where will you take me?"

Dream's hand gently fell from your face to your own palm. Temptingly, his finger wrapped around yours. "To Dreaming - your new kingdom, my queen."

And from that day on, you never looked back. Never once did the faraway streetlamps visit your thoughts. There was only him: the eldritch king that fell to his knees begging for your affection that you so happily granted. Your desires became his, your pleasure his joy and your discomfort his anger. If he could tear himself apart, he would hand-feed you the pieces that were once him.

It was strange - how comfortable imprisonment could be, to be forever tied to someone. After all, aren't trees prisoners of their roots? And yet should they struggle free, they would fall straight away and die of thirst.

Were you not a bird of paradise? Sitting on a perch in a gilded cage only because someone liked your feathers or your song. All the comforts you were given, wishes that he granted, just so you stay the canary that sings his loneliness away. And like a bird, you were released from your cage only to be imprisoned by the confines of Dream's home. The bird, however, rejoices! For it never knew such freedom.

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invisiblegarters · 1 year

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Never Let Me Go 1 & 2

Did I check this out because of a gifset of Perth and Chimon? I’m not saying I did, but I’m not saying I didn’t either (no I’m totally saying I did).

But after watching the first two eps, I like it on its own merits too. Does it make sense that this family that is apparently in constant danger doesn’t seem to have any real muscle around? No, not really. Does it make sense that Nueng’s oh so worried mom would hire a kid his own age to watch over him? Kinda, but not just the kid and not necessarily the kid in question - although we’ve seen evidence that Palm can handle himself, all Nueng’s mom has to go on is the word of his dad. It’s weird.

Am I willing to forgive this because cute? Yeah, probably. I won’t lie, a lot of sense isn’t something I regularly expect from Thai BL - maybe that’s just down to me and what I gravitate to, maybe not, but it makes handwaving these things easy enough so I’m rolling with it.

I can’t say the rich kid falling for the hired help plot is a new one, or even one that I am particularly drawn to, but the chemistry between the leads is decent and I am feeling the loneliness pouring off of Nueng in a way that kinda hurts my heart. I also kind of feel for the weight the expectations of his parents have put on him, mostly because he clearly would rather not take over the business even before his dad is murdered.

The relationships are also fairly interesting. Ben is clearly after Nueng, who wants Palm but is so lonely and desperate for connection that I think he’ll take what he can get. Palm, who the fuck knows? Dude has his dad in one ear telling him to keep his distance but protect, Nueng in the other demanding friendship, and mom for good measure putting even more “protect my kiddo with your life” pressure on him. I think he feels something but I also think that he’s way way more aware of the true distance between them than Nueng is, or at least than Nueng is letting himself be.

Although I think that Palm’s dad is being shortsighted by trying to keep his son from being friendly with Nueng. If they’re friends that emotional tie would keep Palm eager to protect Nueng if nothing else. That said I think it’s pretty clear that Palm will be discarded the second he’s not needed any longer, so.

It might just be my love of Perth talking, but I also find Chopper intriguing. I have a bad feeling that he’s gonna wind up going the villain route, but maybe not. Currently he just seems like a kid who doesn’t enjoy the darker side of his dad’s dealings, has about as much interest in running the family business as Nueng does, and has a very obvious crush on Ben (at least to me it seems obvious). Honestly if anything i think that is where the rivalry and anger is going to spring from - I don’t think it’s coincidence that the scene where he and Ben talk about the latter’s relationship with Nueng came on the heels of Chopper’s dad saying that he’s the one Chopper is in competition with. I truly don’t think that the business thing bothers him as much as it does his dad, but the Ben thing? Oh, yeah, that’ll do it. So I’m keeping my eye on him.

I don’t think Ben’s up to anything truly nefarious either, but there is definitely something up with him, too.

As for the big mystery of who is getting people to bully Nueng, my money is on the classmate who wants him to talk to his mom for him. That whole “maybe you’ve done something to piss someone off” thing with the heavy eye contact seemed like a dead giveaway to me, as did his reaction when Nueng said he was going to get his bag analyzed for prints.

So I’m intrigued. I’m more into this for the interpersonal drama than the business stuff, so if the show keeps delivering on that I will stick with it. Here’s hoping!

#never let me go #thai bl

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meigh-day · 3 years

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Meet Cute (Tendou x F!Reader)

Title: Meet Cute

Pairing: Tendou x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Status: Complete

Word Count: 2.1k

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"I can do this..." You mumble to yourself, eyes focused on the single page menu in your hands. The words scrawled across the page wanted to seem familiar but only a couple managed to find their meaning while the rest just sat there taunting you. Maybe choosing to eat out was a bad idea. It had been only a couple of weeks since you'd uprooted your whole life and moved to beautiful Paris. Sure, your apartment wasn't the prettiest or the biggest and yea maybe not actually speaking a word of French prior to moving wasn't the brightest idea but you couldn't say you regretted the decision. Not yet anyway. A kind looking waitress approached your table, pen poised to take your order as she spoke to you. Her words came quick and left you staring up at her with an awkward smile while she stared at you, expectantly at first and then confused when you said nothing.

"Oh... uh... un moment..." Is all you finally manage to stammer out in your very limited French. She sighs a bit but nods and disappears back inside, leaving you to stare a bit longer at the menu as you worry your lip between your teeth. With a sigh you place the menu flat on the table. Resting your chin in your palm as you stare out at the bustling street before you. People wandered by, laughing with friends, arms full of shopping or flowers, hands intertwined as soft words passed between them. It seemed familiar in a way, watching others pass by on their way to or from some place. Yet, that familiarity only seemed to make you feel all the more alienated, amplifying that feeling of loneliness that was starting to creep up on you. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, your train of thought derailing immediately after as you realize someone was talking to you and you'd absentmindedly acknowledged them.

"Ah, sorry!" You sit up, turning your attention towards the source. An amused smile greets you as a pair of sharp red eyes catch your own. For a moment you sit stunned, mind stuck on one word: pretty. A short chuckle brings you back and you clear your throat as you try to think of something, anything to say to this stranger. "Uhm... Ah... P-pardonner monsieur." You offer up a stammered apology, though you aren't sure if you are sorry for not hearing what he said or for deciding to grace this café and the city with your inadequate French. Both maybe?

He laughs and shakes his head before pointing to the seat across from you as if to ask permission. You nod, offering him a somewhat nervous smile as you watch him take a seat. He was tall and thin with the prettiest red hair you had ever seen. He squints his eyes at you a moment before plucking the menu from the table and reading it over. With nothing else to occupy your attention, you watched him, curious why he had decided to approach a complete stranger.

"Hmm, do you like sweet stuff?" He questioned, eyes peering at you from atop the menu, not a hint of French accent in a single syllable.

You smile and nod, humming in affirmation before your eyes widen. "Wait... You speak... You're not..." A sigh of relief passes your lips as you relax in your chair, grateful to not have to stammer and stutter through the minimal French you'd managed to remember. The red headed man snickered at your obvious relief, hiding his smirk behind the menu.

"Geez, you poor thing. I admire your courage."

"Courage?"

"Yea. I didn't try my hand at dining out for like the first 2 or 3 months." He lowered the menu, his smirk now visible to you as he placed the menu back down on the table.

"Oh, heh, yea probably not the smartest move. It just smelled really good and my stomach overruled my brain."

He nodded, almost as if to say he understood the feeling before glancing back up at you. "I know we just met and all but do you trust me?" He taps the menu as he asks, indicating the reason behind his question.

"I might be inclined to trust you a little more if I knew your name..." You chuckle, watching his eyes widen in the realization that not a single word of introduction had passed between you. The smirk that had been on his lips is replaced by a sweet smile, his squinted red eyes soften as his whole express shifts from that slightly mischievous one he'd been wearing to a rather warm one.

"Ah, yea. It's Tendou, Tendou Satori."

Several minutes later, introductions now over and your order placed by the very gracious man before you, you two sat chatting back and forth. Both curious what had brought each of you to Paris, almost equally as unprepared. You found out Tendou was attending school to get his associates degree in bakery and pastry arts with the intent on training to become a chocolatier after. You stared at him, eyes wide with excitement as he spoke very animatedly about his latest project.

"But yea, not super exciting or anything." His own excitement dwindled a bit, nervousness settling in as he realized he'd been prattling on about himself for the last ten minutes.

"That sounds incredible!" You finally say. It had been so fun watching and hearing him talk about something he clearly loved.

"What about you?"

"Me? Ah..." The main reason you'd come to Paris was school. Well that's what you told people when asked and it was true. Though you couldn't deny to yourself the underlying reason for moving halfway across the word was to get away from your family. They had wanted you to stay local, go to college and work at your uncles company when you graduated. What a nicely planned future, all neat and packaged with a bow. It wasn't what you wanted though and you expressed that on many occasions. In the end you decided that if you were going to go to school for what you wanted you might as well do it as far away as possible while you were at it. Not wanting to unpack any of that though you gave him a very watered down version of why you'd come to Paris.

Tendou could tell as you spoke that something was missing from your story. Maybe it was the way your eyes shifted around as you spoke, or the stiff smile on your lips, but it was clear to him you maybe weren't telling the whole truth. Though considering he was more or less a perfect stranger, he couldn't fault you for that. Just as you were wrapping up your food arrived so any further talk regarding your coming to Paris halted in favor of eating whatever deliciousness Tendou had kindly ordered.

"Ah, that was so good." You breath out happily, leaning back in your chair in an effort to alleviate the fullness in your stomach. Tendou gave you a wide grin as he set his empty cup down. "I did a pretty good job guessing at what you'd like then?"

"Mhm!" You agree enthusiastically. "God knows what I would have ordered if not for you. So.. uh..." You sit up a bit, fixing your eyes on him as your smile softens. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

He shakes his head, waving off your gratitude. "Nah don't worry about it." The waitress comes back around and leaves the bill, just the one, but before you can even think about how to fix this, Tendou has paid for the both of you.

"Oh no you don't have.. "

"Consider it a welcome to Paris gift." He stands and smiles down at you before slowly turning, a bit of reluctance in his step.

This was not how you had anticipated your lunch going. If anything you thought you might order something, hopefully delicious but at the very least edible, in your awful broken French and then go home. You couldn't fathom you'd end up meeting someone so kind and generous, who you maybe also thought happened to be the most beautiful person you'd ever seen. Yet you had, and now you were sat in your chair like a complete idiot watching his back grow smaller and smaller, he'd be lost in the crowd by now if not for his lovely hair.

"What am I doing?!" You harshly mutter to yourself as you stand, grabbing up your jacket and bag before breaking out into a run.

Tendou chewed on his lip as his feet carried him away from the small café. It wasn't like it was totally unusual for him to talk to strangers but he'd never just invited himself to eat with a complete stranger, pay for their meal and then leave. Yet here he was, having done all that, though the latter was being done rather reluctantly. Part of him wanted to turn around and go back to you. You'd only spent the better part of an hour together but he was curious about you. There was something that had drawn him towards you. At first he thought he'd gone to you out of the desire to help, and that was part of it to be sure, but maybe there was more to it. Sure your wobbly French had drawn him over but that wasn't why he stayed. Was it the way you had smiled up at him? Or was it the way you sat and listened to him ramble on with actual interest? Perhaps it was the gentle look on your face when he'd caught you staring off into space. Whatever it was, it had his already slow pace halting.

"Tendou!" His eyes widen at the shout of his name, turning to see you waving at him as you run, reaching him a moment later half out of breath.

"Miss me already?" He jokes, watching as you lean down, bracing your hands against your thighs while you attempt to catch your breath. He isn't kept waiting long as you stand upright, a nervous chuckle finally coming out in response to his initial reply.

"Kinda, yea."

"I-- uh... What?" Tendou falters as he tries to process what you just said, not trusting his ears.

"I know we really don't know each other but it seems like such a shame to just... ignore this."

"Ignore what?" He asks, genuinely confused.

"This!" You state as you frantically motion between the two of you. "I mean what're the odds we'd even meet. Besides, I don't know about you but I don't really know anyone around here and it'd be really nice to change that..." You end with a shrug, starting to second guess this whole endeavour as you watch Tendou stare down at you. His dark red eyes were wide at first, surprised that you had even bothered to run after him but even more so that you wanted to be...well friends or at the very least friendly. His look of surprise softened a moment, a smile on his lips before he narrowed his eyes at you, a glint of mischief in them.

"Sounds pretty suspicious to me but I suppose I can show you around or whatever." His smile widens, almost curling at the ends. "But it'll cost ya."

"C-cost me?" Oh no, maybe this was a bad idea. Perfect stranger remember?! "W-what?"

"Whoa now." He chuckles, holding his hands up in as if the action would ward off whatever dubious thoughts were drifting through your mind. "Just your number... It'd be pretty hard to show you around if I can't get a hold of ya."

"Oh... OH, yea right." You nod, cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. You pull out your phone and enter his details, not really sparing him a glance, too mortified by the assumptions that had sprung to mind.

"I'll text you so you have my number too." You mumble as you type a short message and hit send. A moment later you hear a ding and Tendou pulls out his phone.

"Ah, is that the time?!" He practically yells as the screen lights up, his carefree smile replaced with panic. "Shit, I gotta go!" He offers you an apologetic smile before hurrying away, leaving you a little startled by his sudden departure but overall happy with the outcome. Your grin down at your phone only to see it light up as it buzzes in your hand.

(02:37pm) Y/N: Hey it's Y/N :)

(02:41pm) Tendou: You Free tomorrow?

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #tendou x reader #tendou fluff #tendou #tendou satori

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candreloup · 3 years

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Hey! I heard you were looking for asks so I was hoping you could write about a hero with social anxiety who everyone thinks is shy, but in reality they actually have a lot to say and they are super sweet and considerate. And if their nemesis could be a suave villain who knows them better than anyone (and maybe even has a soft spot for them) then that would be amazing. Have a good day!

I am having a good day, thank you!(maybe it's because of your well-wishes :D) Have fun with this one too, this prompt looks super interesting. I'm excited to write it! Also I'm trying to write at least one snippet every day, but I might miss some days(depends on amount of stuff that day, inspiration, etc)- but for the summer I can actually have a consistent schedule! (Ignore the fact that today's is a bit late, haha) But anywho- on to the story!(wow that's like my catchphrase now)

Edit: also i have realized this may not be exactly what the original ask is about... so I think I'm going to do another one mor accurate to the request hehe

Hero gazed out of the window, staring into the rainy drizzle outside. It was a gray day, overcast and chilly with just the right touch of gloomy. The perfect day to sit inside with a cup of tea and listen to music. Instead, Hero was stuck inside, waiting for the rain to abate and sweating in the too-warm room. The temperature was just a touch too high, barely a few degrees over comfortable. It was a nice gesture, but in someone's over-eagerness to please, they had switched the discomfort to the other side. Oh well. Hero thought. At least the rain seems to be stopping soon.

The rain in question was slowing to a drizzle, the sky lightening and the sun beginning to peek out of the dissolving clouds. The inside was beginning to swelter, filling with heat faster than the dripping rain could cool it off.

Hero thought, "Here it comes."

The next few seconds came in flashes, going in and out of Hero's field of perception. The door slams. Flash. Windows shatter. Flash. A sweet smell drifts through the broken windows. Flash. A smooth voice fills Hero's head. Flash.

"Hello, Hero. It's nice to see you again."

It was over before Hero knew it. The sudden storm of sound, sight and smell flooding Hero's senses vanished in an instant, whirlpooling back into the singular figure in the center of the room, sitting languidly on a velvety chair. Villain.

Hero walked forward mechanically, feeling... numb. It had been years since they'd seen Villain, long before they became "Villain" and ceased to be "Friend". Hero could remember, clear as day, when that familiar face had appeared on the TV screen of the cold cafeteria. Along with a headline that read, "Dangerous criminal at large: 9 dead in lethal attack on Organization." And when the alarms started to wail, filling Hero's muddled mind with even more confusion. They'd struggled to process it, at first; it took them longer than it perhaps should have to realize that that smiling young child was no longer so young, and definitely no longer smiling. No. Instead they looked angry, resentful at the world for the cards they'd been dealt. Not like before. Not like before, when despite all the hardship and suffering that had been thrown their way, Friend had still seemed to love life. To cherish it and fill it with as much happiness as they could, as if to make up for the lost joy in other places.

What happened to you, my friend?

That all vanished into nothingness when Hero saw Villain sitting in front of them, fiddling with some small trinket in their fingers. Waiting. Waiting for what? Hero wondered, staring at the different, but still recognizable face. Waiting for... for...

Villain looked up. Hero stopped, waited along with Villain. What are they waiting for? Villain spun the trinket in their fingers and with a deft movement flicked it back into the dark recesses of their jacket.

"Waiting for you, Hero." Hero flinched. That was new. Hero sighed. They hadn't bothered to do research on Villain. Stupid! They'd been so naïve, believing that this clearly changed person sitting in front of them would still act the same, talk the same. But it was too late for that. All that they could do now was grasp at the small thread they had, hope beyond hope that they could figure out a way to bring Villain back. Now all that was left to do was try to understand, try to puzzle out what happened to that little kid they'd played with. And to try to bring that bright soul back.

"I know what you're thinking." The sudden noise startled Hero, jerked them out of their thoughts.

"Oh?" Hero struggled to stay as neutral as possible. Villain chuckled.

"You're so transparent, Hero. Just like I used to be. A dumb little kid. And you're wondering: What happened?" Hero hid their surprise as best they could. It wasn't enough. Hero could tell, could see the glee in Villain's eyes at Hero's confusion. It was a malicious joy, so different from that happiness they used to have.

"Now you're thinking that I've changed. Again. I did change. That's true. But I'm still the same person."

Hero cleared their throat, struggling for the right words to say.

"...No, you're not."

"Oh yes I am. I'm still 'Friend', even if I"-Villain gestured to their face and body-"changed in appearance. And perhaps personality."

Hero shook their head. "No. The friend I knew would never murder someone. You... you aren't my friend. My friend is gone." The bite in those words seemed to sting Villain, the hurt in their eyes barely visible. But it was quickly covered up and replaced with cold humor.

"O sentimental fool! You really believe your little friend was so great, huh! I almost feel bad for you."

"No. I know my friend was a good person."

"Ahhhh, you knew your friend so well! I see. Then tell me this, Hero. How is it that you never knew where your little friend lived? Or chose to ask? And how is it that you never noticed the deadness in their eyes or the tear stains on their cheeks? Tell me, Hero!" Villain spat. The venom in their voice was audible now, cutting through the smooth, smug tone as Villain glared at Hero. "And tell me, little Hero, how you never saw the bruises and scars on your friend's body? Tell me how you never, not once noticed how isolated, how totally alone your friend felt?" Villain was standing now, advancing slowly towards Hero with rage in their eyes. "Tell me how, Hero. TELL ME!" they half-screamed, standing almost nose to nose with Hero.

Hero kept their calm. Strangely enough, this was almost better than before, better than that slick villain sitting elegantly on the chair. Hero preferred unhinged to silence. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, the little Hero is sorry! Ha! What a joke! Well, little Hero with the oh-so-great-friend, explain to me your reasoning when you left me!!"

Hero snapped. They'd been calm, silent, reasonable this whole time. Kept their cool, kept their patience. Remembered- this is a person in pain. They are in pain because of me. I used to love them.

But the last line was the final straw.

"Oh, Villain, you want to know about leaving??" Hero yelled, standing on their toes and staring directly into Villain's wide eyes. "You want to know about loneliness, about feeling betrayed? You know, Villain, JUST BECAUSE YOU FELT ALONE DOESN'T MEAN I DIDN'T!" Hero screamed, filled with an uncharacteristic amount of rage.

"Hero, calm-"

"NO. For every time you hid things, every time you made me feel like I WASN'T THERE FOR YOU despite my CONSTANT PRESENCE, I'm going to tell you. You want to know, Villain? You REALLY WANT TO KNOW? Every SINGLE time I asked, EVERY TIME I BEGGED AND PLEADED WITH YOU TO TELL ME, you know what you did?"

"Hero-"

"TELL ME, VILLAIN. DO YOU REMEMBER?"

"I-"

"YOU RAN AWAY! So don't sit there, with your chair and suit BULLSHIT, and try and tell me that I WASN'T A GOOD FRIEND. Don't. Do you know how many times I tried, Villain? And god damn, COULDN'T YOU SPARE A SINGLE THOUGHT TO TELL ME? But no, you NEVER SAID A WORD. You just pranced around, acting happy until I left. Because APPARENTLY, EVERY SINGLE THING I THOUGHT I KNEW ABOUT MY FRIEND IS A FUCKING LIE."

Hero was breathing hard, still bubbling with anger. How dare they, how dare Villain accuse Hero of not trying. God knew they tried. Every. Single. Day. But even through all of that Hero had faith in Villain. They'd believed Villain was still good. But then that news report had come out. And now, Hero realized that their entire childhood had been a façade.

"I... I'm sorry." The words were almost a whisper, so quiet Hero could barely hear it. But they still heard it.

"Sorry won't cut it."

"I know."

"You know, Villain? Do you really?"

"I thought I knew."

"I loved you, Villain. I almost still do." Hero whispered into the room, feeling their words bounce off the bare walls. "I loved you..."

Villain looked up from their chair, eyes wide. "...You did?"

Hero started crying softly, tears rolling slowly down their face. "You idiot. You lovable fucking idiot." Villain stood slowly, looking ashamed. "Come here." Hero opened their arms to Villain, sobbing when Villain fell into the comforting embrace. "You idiot. I missed you," they whispered, tears falling onto Villain's shoulder.

"I missed you too," Villain murmured softly, quiet tears gently falling onto the floor.

It sounded like rain.

#hero and villain #hero #villain #hero x villain #villain and hero #villain x hero #crying scene #yelling scene #losing it #anger #screaming #rain #eeeeeee i'm proud of this one #should i make extra scenes hehe #i could totally shatter everyone's hearts right now holy moly i have so much power #this had a different ending but you don't want to know what happened in the other ending

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travellingarmy · 3 years

Text

║Zhongli║Where Glaze Lilies Bloom

Requested from Wattpad.

Female reader as requested.

Word count: 1.7k

---

Twice.

Twice had the amber-eyed male encountered two persons whom he learned to cherish, but then fall witness to a crushing sight of their cold and limp body, eyes dimmed of life. Both meeting and parting happening in the field where glaze lilies bloom.

He has seen countless of lives lost, but none were as disheartening as when the two people he cared for disappear like dust being swept away by the wind. One was his best friend and the other one- whom held a closer tie to his heart- was his lover.

That was many thousands of years ago, yet he couldn't help reminisce the times of old and the happy memories that blossomed like flowers with it. His heart felt heavier each day when he thought of what he could have done during the war to have saved the two he cared for so deeply so that they were there with him today and proudly talk about their accomplishments that they had earned together, but that unfortunately can't happen as he was the only one left of the inseparable trio.

He looks at the sunset in the horizon and sighs, closing his eyes and replayed the deaths of his friend and lover. It was around this time of day where the sun looked like a gem and glimmered like one that his lover had died. His best friend died days before amongst the field of blue and he and his lover both there to comfort her so that she could return to the soils like the God of Dust she was.

Then came his only ray of light in the calamity that surrounded them. He remembers all too clearly of that day and how he had held onto her body, pleading with tears dripping down from his face and hitting her cold ones to not leave him just like his best friend not too many days prior to her death. "You'll be alright, I promise. So, please, don't close your eyes!" He begged.

He watched as she weakily forces a smile and caress the male's face lovingly, flinching when he felt her cold fingertips. "Glaze lilies.. Guizhong.. Liked these flowers.." she had weaikly said, tears of her own starting to well in her eyes. "I.. I like them too.." She utters a few more words, trying to lighten up the mood as her eyes become more and more lifeless by the second. "Rex.. Promise me that you will do.. What Guizhong had said. Please, protect her people.." Her hand that caressed his cheek fall to her side as she took one last breath before joining her older sister in the afterlife. Even in her last moments of life, she had talked about her loving sister and his best friend, and now, she left, taking his heart along with her. He had cried and held her body close to his, not wanting her to become nothing but a memory, but to his sadness, her body had turned to dust like her sister's and slipped between his grasp, allowing the wind to take them.

Both meeting and parting happening in the field where glaze lilies bloom.

"Hey, earth to Mr. Zhongli." An all too familiar voice snaps him from his reminiscing and opens his eyes to be faced by none other than the eleventh Fatui Harbinger, Childe. "Childe, to what may I offer you this fine evening?" the funeral consultant asks, not a look of sadness seen on the man's face.

"Ah, nothing really.. I was walking past the docks when I saw you kind of just spacing out on the bench," the younger male states. "Is that what it looked like? Well, indeed you are correct," Zhongli says, not denying what the Harbinger had said.

"You okay, Mr. Zhongli?" Childe asks, taking note of how distant his Liyue friend had become lately ever since the Rite of Parting. "Of course, I am. What makes you ask that, Childe?" The male was caught off guard of the strange, yet reasonable question.

"It's nothing.. Anyway, I guess I will be heading off to Snezhnaya tomorrow. A shame that I won't be tagging along with the traveller for most of their adventures, but I'll meet them soon enough," he said and sighs. "Well, I best be off now." He bids goodbye to the quiet male and disappears amongst the flooding crowds.

Zhongli, the man who can ramble on with so much knowledge, was then left again to his own thoughts. He looks towards the sun that was setting down slowly, colour the same as his eyes, but there was a huge different. While the sun sets down with pride, his was filled with sadness and loneliness.

Tomorrow..

"Is the day of her death."

For the past two thousand years, not once had he missed a year to see the field that was slowly becoming barren of the blue flowers where his lover took her last breath and he wasn't going to miss it for the world tomorrow.

When the sun was still starting to peek through the darken sky, Zhongli was missing from his house, already out the gates and protection of the city and the Milleliths. Today, he didn't go in the form of Rex Lapis, but as a mortal called Zhongli and he wishes to have a one-sided conversation with the flowers and wind around to tell them about the recent events that took place not too long ago.

He soon see the field and the little flowers that he knew was soon to wilt away and blown away by a gentle wind. However, it wasn't so lonely and looked as if there was more of them than the last time he came by to reminisce and they also opened up their petals, meaning to say that someone had caused them to open up. He wondered as to who the person was, but that was soon answered when he heard soft singing in the distance.

Looking over to a tree amongst the field, he sees the back of a woman, leaning against it. More of the glaze lilies around started to bloom, showing their true beauty. But, this was not the reason as to why the tall male froze on the spot, heart starting to quicken; the song that the woman was singing was a song that no one in Teyvat knew. He remembers the song as he was always singing it for the flowers on this day. The song had been taken from someone else and that person was the only other person who knew of the words; the one who made it and sung it. It was her song.

He gulped back a lump in his throat and slowly approach the female in question, but accidentally stepped on a flower, making a crunching noise which alerted the female. She hastily stood up and turn around, eyes sharp and on guard.

Her hair length and its colour, her eyes and their colour, the size and shape of her nose, lips-- you name it. They were all the same as hers. His heart felt as if it stopped, yet was racing at the same time. The world also felt that it held its breath, making everything frozen, but leaving the two and the field still running with the flow of time. A gentle breeze swept across the field, rifling their clothing and hair, but the two stood their, not being bothered by it.

All the similarities was there and he had no doubt about it. His lover had came back.

You came back.

"Um, who are you?" your soft and gentle voice made its way to his ears and he realized that he was staring too long and making you feel uncomfortable. "Ah, my apologies. I didn't mean to alarm you," he starts, feeling a sort of ache in his heart when you couldn't recognize who he was. "I.. I was very moved by your song. Did you hear that from somewhere or someone perhaps?" He had to know if it was truly you or a look alike of you, but he was positive of it being the prior.

"Ah, you were moved by the song? That's actually the first time someone had said that- well, it's probably because they never heard it.." you mumbled the second part. "I actually made it up. Well, I'm not sure, maybe..? I've always been humming the tune since young and made the words soon after. It could be someone else's song that I've heard so I'm not quite too sure..?" You rambled on, contradicting your words and jumbling everything up. This made the male's heart light and felt his missing pieces starting to return.

He laughs, remembering that this was the way you used to act thousands of years ago with a heart as gentle, fragile, and beautiful as a gem. You were taken aback and felt embarrassed as you were not well with words. "Ah.. I made myself sound like fool, didn't I?" You scratched your cheek, averting your gaze to the ground and feeling something warm rise up to your face.

Zhongli's laughter quited down and looks at you with loving eyes and a warm smile. Oh how he missed you so. "What is your name, my dear?" he asks, pretending to not know your name. You look up at the handsome man, feeling your cheeks becoming more tingly at every detail on his face that you trace with your eyes. "I, I'm (Y/N), sir," you answered. Although you had never seen the man before, you felt as if you've known him far longer and had a feeling that you know what he likes, dislikes, and whatnot.

"(Y/N).. What a beautiful name," he says softly. Your heart races at the words, but you did not know why. Who was this man, you had asked yourself. "I'm Zhongli."

In this life, he thought, he will do his utmost best to give you a life full of happiness with him, but that would take a while since you were now a mortal with no recollection of the man you loved before then. However, he was fine with making you fall for him again, as long as you love him like before.

In the field of blue is where he met the reincarnation of his lover. And in that field, is where he knows you'll depart once more. But this time, he knows he will meet you again and will wait thousands of years just to see you again and make you love him just as before.

Both meeting and parting happening in the field where glaze lilies bloom.

---

Different user ask for a part two!

#genshin zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #zhongli oneshot #genshin impact #genshin #gender neutral #genshin impact oneshots #genshin imagines #genshin impact albedo #genshin childe

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http-worm · 3 years

Text

Love

Bokuto x Reader

Genre: angst with a happy ending

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of insecurity

Synopsis: Love is a fickle thing; blossoming in one moment and withering in the next. Just when you thought your first love with Bokuto would forever wilt, a chance encounter might lead to new beginnings.

I once thought we could take on the world.

Have you ever been in love before? Have you ever felt the euphoria of coming home to a special someone waiting just for you? What about wholly giving yourself up to someone else? To cherish them and hold them above even yourself? Have you ever been in a love so bountiful you never needed more?

I once thought we had a perfect love.

To some, love seemed like a burst of fireworks; colors exploding in a symphony of emotions. Happiness, ecstasy, fulfillment, confidence, a sprinkle of jealously, and a never-ending pool of other feelings. It was different for everyone as well: some may feel possessive, others may care too much or some too little. It can be suffocating as much as liberating.

Where did things go wrong?

To you, my dear, your love was a quiet one while his a crashing wave of energy. You were often described by your peers as a flower while he was referred to as a roaring lion. You kept your head down and stayed quiet, he lifted his head up and laughed as if it was the last laugh he would have. And yet, the pair of you fit together almost like a puzzle.

When did the love end and contempt begin?

You reminded him when it was time to be calm and quiet. He reminded you that it was okay to let loose and grin bright enough to make the sun jealous. All in all, a perfect pair.

I should’ve tried harder.

You enjoyed how hyper he was and how he always made those around him cheer up. You adored his smile when he saw you; how he would run to your side to twirl you in his arms, unable to contain his joy.

I should’ve done more.

He enjoyed how you were content to rest in his embrace for hours on end and ask him to hold you longer. How you would sit on counter-tops, the floor, tables; avoiding sitting normally in a chair for, as you would put it, “it’s far more comfortable like this!”

I should’ve spoken up.

If he wasn’t waiting for you outside of class then you were for him. You waited for his volleyball practice to end, greeting him with the smallest hint of a smile as he took your hand to walk you home.

I should’ve told you.

While he was vocal about his love for you, it was harder for you to find your voice. Instead, you told him when you held on a little tighter during hugs, lingered a little longer in his doorway. Your love was told in leaving scattered items around his home as an excuse to come back later.

Did you know I never stopped loving you?

When you were sick he would rush to your home and care for you, hands moving rapidly as he told you about his day and begged you to get better so you could go out soon. When he was sick you would sit dutifully beside his bed, speaking in a hushed tone and getting whatever he needed.

Despite my actions, my cruel words...

You wore his jersey on game days, standing in front so he could see you clearly. And when you cheered, although not to the extent as your peers, he could hear you above all else. He complimented you when he watched you work your magic on a canvas, colors intermingling to become a picture straight from your thoughts.

I still love you.

But love can change in an instant. And the moment that Bokuto’s endearing habits became annoyances, it was like a punch in the gut.

I’m sorry.

Love and hate tread on a paper thin line so light that not even a bird can perch on it without the threat of falling off in a moments notice. It’s opening yourself to new possibilities that you may come to despise in the future. His loud laughter at random times of the day that you once found endearing? Obnoxious and annoying, the onset of a migraine. His tendencies to hug you a little too tight? A bother that has you pushing him away too soon. It’s not a single-player game either; at least not for you and Bokuto.

We didn’t know what the future held.

At first he shrugged it off when you told him not to worry when you were upset, but now it was frustrating to not know what he did wrong—if he did wrong. Seeing you sitting on the counter was once amusing, bringing the crinkle of a smile to his lips, yet now he can only say “why don’t you sit normally in a chair?” With the smallest frown.

We didn’t think it was this.

Frustration upon frustration pummeled a saccharine relationship built with walls of sugar, leaving holes in your defenses while trust crumbled over time. The same love that once gathered you in her arms is the same entity which stared you down with a hateful gaze, whispering words of loathing while you shivered from the embrace of contempt. Love destroyed what was once thought indestructible, ending a two-year long relationship with a single sentence.

Do you remember our promise?

“We aren’t good for each other anymore.”

We’d stay together no matter the conflict.

You didn’t know what hurt the most: his quiet acceptance as he nodded his head in agreement... or how he acted as if nothing was different the next day, simply replying “we had a mutual breakup!” when asked the status of your relationship. Despite being the catalyst to your breakup, you seemed to be the one hurting the most.

I wonder... do you still think of me?

Love is a poison as much as it is an antidote. It cures loneliness and sorrow but brings about pain and distrust. Like a rose it hides its thorns, pricking you when you grab it and realize too late the pain it inflicts upon you. When your in love, it’s like being in a different reality. Everything is brighter and more cheerful, a rose-colored filter covering the world around you. It makes you sacrifice yourself for another person, to the point where you have nothing left to give. Love is foolish. It causes you to make stupid decisions in its name, telling you it’s for the greater good.

Because I always think of you.

When was the last time you had a proper conversation? Before your breakup? The only times you had spoken after was when greeting each other in the halls. It was laughably pitiful in your eyes. You went back to quietly drawing in the corner, heading straight home after school. He went back to being loud and cheery, putting a smile on everyone’s faces. And when graduation came around, you went your separate ways.

Almost every day, in fact.

As years passed, you found yourself busying yourself with work. Drowning in a chest-high flood of deadlines as you drew day after day for your Webtoon, you forced yourself to keep distracted. It did little to work. After all, your story, while a work of fiction, was influenced by moments in your life. Saccharine you called it; a story about how some things in life are so sickly sweet it causes nausea. It was almost a theme in your life: events much too good to be true coming your way only to wrench out your heart and leave you bleeding on the pavement.

Have you read my story, I wonder?

You see his games on TV now and again. Despite all your efforts, you can never seem to look away for long. You remembered how much you loved him. How much you still love him. Even with his body covered in a layer of sweat did you find him beautiful, and now you wanted to hear that hearty laugh of his up close once again. Even after all this time does your heart yearn for him, cracking as you remember the idiocy of your youth. If only you spoke up more, if only you told him what was wrong. If only. If only.

If you have, maybe you’ll know how I really feel.

You were given the opportunity to see one of his games. Akaashi contacted you, wondering if you’d like to catch up while watching the MSBY and Adlers match. “No, no. I don’t think he’d want to see me, even after this time.”

Although... I desperately want to see you again.

“He still thinks about you.”

And you never did respond back.

Do... do you really?

Fate has a funny way of messing with us. Despite all your efforts to never have to face him again, to never face your insecurities, the universe decided that enough is enough. So now you found yourself face to face with Bokuto, sheltered from the rain in a small cafe, eyes unable to stray from one another. What seemed like hours to you was only seconds in reality before he opened his mouth to speak. “Hey, y/n.” To your surprise, there was no contempt in his voice. No anger nor hatred. In fact, his voice was soft and had an endearing lilt, almost as if you were high schoolers again. It took you far too long to process that he had used your first name, and by the time you did, a rosy flush covered your cheeks.

They always say our first loves never last.

“Koutarou,” his name felt at home on your lips and you could see he felt the same at how his face lit up, “it’s... good to see you again.” Again did you stand there in the silence while staring, your eyes searching for even the smallest hint that maybe, maybe he thought about you as much as you did him.

I don’t quite believe in that statement.

Bokuto had been miserable after your relationship fell off. He masked it with a false optimism, telling everyone that everything was alright to protect you. He knew that if he said something had actually happened people would flock to you and gossip would spread her ugly wings, taking flight from one person to the other. Even though you were no longer together, even though you had argued and fought, he never wanted you to be under a spotlight that you never asked for. Much like how you distracted yourself in art, he did the same with volleyball. While it seemed like he was unaffected to you, he was merely putting on a brave face so you didn’t have to feel guilty.

You were my first love, and we fell out of it.

He asked you if you wanted to wait out the rain with him. You agreed, and he took you to a booth in the cafe where you sat in awkward silence for a moment. He was prepared to take the first steps like he did all those years ago, but you wouldn’t let him. Not again. Because if you wanted to make things right, you’d have to push aside your insecurity and apologize.

But...

“I’m sorry.” It fell from your lips like autumn leaves, taking a moment to settle between the two of you as he processed what you said. Before he could answer your apology, you continued. “I’m sorry for how I left things. I’m sorry for never telling you what was wrong. I... I never knew how to express myself and I took it out on you.” Your eyes began to tear up as you spoke the words you’ve wanted to tell him for years, heart spilling from your mouth. “I was cruel. I was cold. You were my everything and I pushed you away because I was insecure.” It was only a fraction of what you wanted to say but your choked sobs forbade you from speaking more. You broke down further when the man across from you smiled and reached over, taking your hand in his.

If you’re as willing as I am...

“You aren’t the only one who needs to say sorry.” You blinked at him in surprise as Bokuto chuckled, looking rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I was immature. I got hotheaded when you wouldn’t talk to me instead of being patient. I brushed you off when I should’ve payed attention. We were both in the wrong.” His finger ran over your thumb, looking at your intertwined hands with such a gentle fondness that you wondered how you ever let him go in the first place. “Maybe... maybe you’d like to try again?”

Our first love can start again.

Love is something that you don’t need to completely devote yourself to. Your partner will need their own time, and so will you. You will each need your own space, and you will each have your own opinions. Arguments will happen, but you will need to calm your anger and talk it out. Love is not eternal. You will fall out of love. Things you once thought endearing will become annoying, things you once enjoyed will become a bore. There one moment and gone the next, love is a fleeting feeling that people experience in many ways. It is something that will come and go, and it is something that you will have to wait for. The wait is worth it. Love is worth it.

Although I don’t believe it ever truly ended.

For you and Bokuto, love is each other. You lost that love once as immature kids, but now that you’ve found it again, you don’t plan on letting it go. A castle built from sugar becomes reinforced with steel walls of protection. This time, the fortress of your love will not crumble.

I’ve found you again, and I will love you again.

And I will not let you go this time, my love.

#koutaro bokuto #bokuto #Bokuto x reader #koutarou x reader #haikyuu Bokuto #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #worm cinema #theatre 1

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elvendara · 3 years

Text

Sugar and Spice Day 3

July 14th

Rock concert (Rockstar/Fan)

“Five minutes till curtains up!” the man ran backstage shouting over the din. Saeran expected a knock on his door shortly and sure enough, it came. Without waiting for an answer, the man opened the door to let him know the time limit. Saeran locked eyes with him through the mirror and nodded.

Once the door was again closed, he stared at himself. He’d long ago bleached his hair white to differentiate himself from his twin. Saeyoung worked in the shadows, it wouldn’t do to have a famous brother who looked exactly like him. He also utilized colored lenses. It served two purposes, he didn’t need to wear glasses, in fact, his fans didn’t even know he needed them, and the mint green was a stark contrast to his regular, amber-colored eyes. The pink tips were a more recent addition, but he liked them.

Black eyeliner was expertly applied, years of practice making it almost effortless. He took a sponge and smudged it, giving himself that perfect edgy look. The earrings were already in, silver crosses dangling on each side of his face. Ironic really, considering he didn’t believe in God. The thick black silver studded collar was snuggly around his neck as was the matching cuff around his right wrist. He stood and grabbed his leather jacket, sliding it on and glancing into the full-length mirror he had been given in his dressing room. He was comfortable in this persona. The music had been a way for him to deal with his life. Writing down his anger, confusion, and loneliness was a way to get it out of him. It became bigger than him pretty quickly and he found that hiding behind rock stardom meant he didn’t have to answer any real questions about his true self. It worked. Except it kept him lonely and alone. He’d come to terms with spending the rest of his life that way. It was easier than imagining being real with someone. Who could ever love the real him anyway?

He smirked at his reflection as he laced up his biker boots. Time to bring the house down!

He was soaked in sweat but didn’t feel tired. In fact, he felt invigorated, like every time he finished a concert. Feeding off the audience was one of the biggest perks to his career. Someone handed him a towel and he wiped his face with it.

“Great show Saeran!” one of the concert coordinators told him. She held a tablet to her chest and had a handful of fans behind her. Five doe eyed girls and one shy looking boy. Well, now that he looked closer, he was definitely a man, close to his own age. He looked sheepish being with the teenaged groupies. “These are the VIP’s for tonight’s afterparty. Thought I’d introduce you before you change.”

“Nice! Great to meet you, I’m glad we’ll be hanging out tonight. Hope you have a good time. Congrats on winning the backstage passes.” He regurgitated. There wasn’t always an afterparty but there were some special guests, rich, who had paid for the whole thing, so he’d been pressed to oblige them with an appearance. He hated the politics of being famous, but he did love his fans. It was because of them that he could enjoy what he did. If it was up to him, he’d fill the party with fans and not rich entitled groupies. He knew he would spend the night fending off offers to ‘get to know each other better’ all night.

“Oh my GOD! It’s really you!”

“Wow! You’re so HOT!”

“Ahhh, my friends are never gonna believe this!”

The girls were just cookie cutter versions of every other girl he’d seen. He couldn’t blame them; it’s how they sold his image. The man looked embarrassed; he wouldn’t even look him in the eye. He took the chance to check him out. He appeared to be a tad shorter than himself, with blond hair and pink clips holding back his bangs. He wore one of his concert shirts and tight-fitting skinny jeans. His nails were painted alternating pink and black with the black ones having his band’s logo on it, a mint green eye. So he really was a fan. Cute too.

“Uh, well, like the lady said, I have to go get changed for the party, I’ll see you all there. And be sure to grab your swag bags before you leave, don’t let them rip you off there! There’s a CD with a snippet of some of our new songs.” He winked and walked off. There was a lot of oohing and ahhing as he left.

He took a quick shower and dressed in a ripped black T-shirt, black jeans and his biker boots, putting all his accessories back on and reapplying his eyeliner. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked out to the convention center next to the arena. Of course he wasn’t alone, he had security that surrounded him and paparazzi snapping pics as he made his way to the party. They screamed questions at him that he didn’t answer, he smirked, the signature look the media had come to know him by. Surrounded by so many yet feeling so alone. Making it next door took longer than it should have because of the circus around him, but make it he did.

Once he was inside he was taken by the arm by the coordinator who had introduced him to the fans, he couldn’t remember her name but she seemed nice enough. At least she didn’t flirt with him like other women did and took her job seriously.

“You’re here, great, first you should go say hi to the Han family, they’re the ones footing the bill for this afterparty, then you can have a few minutes with the fans before talking to some reporters…”

“Whoah.” He stopped in his tracks and could swear she left skid marks with her heels she’d been going so fast. “I want more than just a few minutes with those fans, and who are all these people anyway?” He saw his bandmates and some of the roadies, but everyone else was a stranger.

“Nobody you need to worry about, uh, I’ll see what I can do with the schedule.” She seemed frazzled but clicked away on her tablet while heading off again. He assumed he should follow, so he did.

“Mr. Han, I appreciate you taking the time and effort for this function.” Saeran greeted the elderly man.

“Ah, of course of course, anything for my new bride!” he had his arm around a young woman who was clearly less than half his age. The rumors about C&R’s head were obviously true. Standing on his other side was a tall and elegant man who appeared to wish he was anywhere but here. He’d seen that face plastered on magazines of all sorts. The heir apparent, Director of C&R, Jumin Han. They nodded respectfully at each other, Saeran feeling sorry for the man and having to deal with his father’s escapades, but the old man seemed like a descent sort. After a few minutes of his ‘wife’ fawning all over him, making him feel uncomfortable, the coordinator pulled him away. He was thankful to her for saving him.

She escorted him towards a section in the back, past all the dancing and the loud music, that was closed off. The music was still loud but at least he could hear himself think. In the section the fans sat, eating and drinking snacks on the coffee table. They all stood up and rushed him. Well, the girls did, touching him and giggling. Where were their parents? They didn’t look old enough to be out. They sat him down and pressed against him. The blond man sat to the side in a chair and continued to sip his cola and eat the snacks, sneaking a look now and then. He wished he could just be alone with him and have a conversation. At least he wouldn’t try to crawl on his lap like these girls seemed to want to do. Well, maybe he wouldn’t mind if the blond tried that.

After about 30 minutes, which felt like a lifetime, the coordinator gathered up the girls and took them out. It was past midnight and he guessed he had been right about their age, couldn’t have minors out at all hours of the night. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It felt like they had leached some of his life force out and he was drained.

“I guess that happens all the time to you huh?”

Saeran sat up abruptly, how could he have forgotten about the blond?

“Sorry, I’ll go if you want to be alone.” He stood and Saeran panicked.

“NO!” he stood, banging his knee on the coffee table, sending him on his ass back on the sofa. He grabbed at the knee, eyes scrunched, “Ow ow ow…”

“Let me see.” Suddenly there was a presence by him as the blond sat beside him, his fingers touching his knee. Because of the ripped jeans, it was easy to see his skin in that area. “Doesn’t look so bad, at least you didn’t break the skin. You’ll have a hell of a bruise though.” The blond raised his gaze to Saeran and he finally got to see the full view. Wow, those eyes knocked him out, was that color even natural? Maybe he was wearing amethyst-colored lenses like what he himself wore. His face was kind, a soft pink flush growing across his cheeks and bridge of his nose. It was adorable.

“Ah, that was really stupid of me. But…I’m glad you didn’t leave. We didn’t even get a chance to chat.” Saeran tried to regain his coolness but found he couldn’t seem to be bothered to try and act in front of this man. “Uh, what’s your name?”

“Yoosung. Don’t have to ask yours I guess.” He smiled, lighting up the entire room.

“Yoosung…I like it.”

“Thanks. I…uh…like you. I mean…I…your music…I…I…like your music…and…uh…I”

Saeran laughed and waved off Yoosung’s explanation.

“So you’re a fan huh? And what…a doctor?” he asked, placing his foot on the ground gently, still rubbing his knee.

“Not quite. But I am going to medical school. And yes, a BIG fan!” his eyes got large, as did his smile. “Your songs spoke to me when I was at a really low point. I don’t know, it felt like you knew what I was going through and understood my pain.” The smile faltered as his thoughts went back to those days. Saeran reached out and placed his hand on Yoosung’s, yes, he knew what it was like to be in pain, he could see it in his eyes.

Their eyes met, an understanding passing between them.

#my posts #fic #Yooran #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #mysme #mystic messenger #Sugar and Spice #Day 3 #July 14th #OK #I know these are supposed to be Saeran as Spice #but damn if he isn't the sweetest baby boi!#He just wants to be loved!

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zer0pm · 4 years

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Imagine if Alucard‘s heart beats loudly only for you.

A/N: WARNING!! This be long!!

Alright, I think it’s safe to say that we all agree that Alucard effin’ deserved better in S3, dammit. I don’t know what the writers were thinking, but if they aimed to place him on his dad’s path, there were better ways to do it. Just saying. Here’s some fluff to give our boy the love he needs.

Alucard has been awake for some time now, his golden eyes gaze upon the serene look on your face as you slept. He wore a look of longing and adoration as his fingers brush gently across your skin, caressing your back in long strokes. The sensation of his touch stirred you pleasantly in your sleep and you released a familiar and satisfied sigh. The sound made the dhampir’s heart swell along with his ego. Gently, he pulls you further into his embrace with the intent to feel your soothing heartbeat against his chest and allow your warmth to envelop him.

As if out of instinct, you wrap your arms around his slender waist and angle your head to slightly face him. Your ear presses against his chest and he watches you smile at the sound of his heart. Beating only for you.

In that moment, Alucard was in awe. There were very few moments where he had ever felt his own heart pulse within. Although he is half-vampire and therefore possesses a biology that functions differently from humans, that mortal side of him kept his beat faint, even almost non-existent. His father, an age-defining genius, argued that a beating heart has no function within an immortal. His mother, on the other hand, claims that it was his body’s way of telling him that it yearns still for a warmth that only human life can give. Of course, there was a scientific explanation for it; however, his mother, a doctor, an individual of medicine and science, suggests that the secret behind her son’s heartbeats stems from a hidden desire for something...romantic. One that defies rational reason. After nearly choking on his wine listening to her outlandish implication, Alucard outwardly denied such a theory to which she chuckled off humorously along with his father. Despite how the he felt, the idea was firmly planted within Alucard’s mind. It certainly puzzled him, but in time he did not care to waste any further thoughts to understand it then. Until he met you.

After his parents were gone from this world, you stumbled into his life. Or rather, you had picked a fight right outside his castle. He was mourning for both his mother and father, missing the company of his friends Trevor and Sypha, and was slowly slipping into the madness of loneliness and depression until his acute hearing picked up the clashing of swords at his front door. He wasted no time in checking out the commotion, wary that his domain may be under attack and saw you fighting what appears to be two foreign warriors. You seemed to hold your own rather well, but Alucard did not dwell on this and instead shouted at you three to cease your battle.

He demanded an explanation with teeth bared, clearly angered to have his peace disturbed. You were the first to speak up, claimed the two you cross blades with were vampire hunters trying to pass themselves off as hapless travelers in search for training and guidance. You added that, in reality, they take advantage of the hosts who accommodate them and kill them for their own gain. The foreigners denied the accusations and called you a petty highwayman, trying to kill them and take their belongings, fabricating stories with a silver tongue to sway favor.

Alucard looked back and forth between the two parties. He didn’t know who to trust. If it was in his nature, he would have killed you all and get back to wallowing. But he is not that kind of man. The foreigners appeared sincere, a brother-sister pair wandering the world with wide-eyes in pursuit of a greater purpose. Meanwhile, there was you. You, he honestly could not place. But there was something about you that drew him in, and while your story compared to the foreigners seemed incredibly outlandish, he could not find it within himself to immediately conclude that you were lying. You were a curious thing to him.

Alucard somehow felt responsible for the ordeal and thus the burden of resolving it fell on him. He offered the ultimatum, leave or die. It was such a simple plan that could easily unravel the true intentions you and the two foreigners held. And like a fish on a hook, the bait was taken. The foreigners apparently thought they no longer needed to uphold their charade and moved to strike down both you and him with bow and sword raised.

A stupid mistake. And as quickly as they moved, Alucard was faster. With a single thought, his blade answered the unspoken call. A swing, and two bodies fell to the ground with their throats slit. He did not even bother to watch the two foreigners bleed out as he noticed you collapse to your knees. Without showing any reservation, and on pure instinct, he lifts you into his arms and carried you inside his castle towards his mother and father’s laboratory.

He placed you atop one of the cushioned seats and analyzed your injuries. Several cuts and gashes here and there, but nothing severe and you were visibly exhausted. Apparently you were fighting for an extended period of time. Even though Alucard defeated them with ease, you did not have the same combative advantages. He noted first a particularly nasty gash atop your forehead to which he then swiftly proceeded to clean and apply salve on much to your protest.

“It is not as bad as it looks,” you said with a wince.

He ignored you, “When you stop bleeding, I’ll take your word for it.”

You released an indignant huff, but otherwise allowed him to do his work. He felt you watch him from the corner of your eye and wondered then what you were thinking. After a moment of silence, you relaxed before letting out a meek “thank you.”

“It is nothing,” shrugged the dhampir. There was another shortlived pause before curiosity got the best of him. “How did you know of their true nature?” He already had an idea, but wanted to ask regardless if not to have a better understanding of you.

With a deep breath, you regaled your tale. Apparently, the foreigners were taken in by your kin, admitting that they seemed a good, friendly pair of lost travelers just trying to find a place to belong. But one day under the cover of night, they hid away into your kin’s sleeping quarters, seduced them, and slew them before taking off with their valuables. The next day, you returned from the market in time for one of your loved ones to reveal all of this to you before dying in your arms. When you had finished, Alucard could see that tears threatened to spill from your eyes but you managed to restrain through sheer will. He knew you did not want him to see your pain, it was a sentiment he was all too familiar with.

The dhampir spoke before he could stop himself, “Forgive me.”

You shook your head. “It is not your fault, nor was it your burden to bear. I did not want other poor souls to suffer the same fate. Which is why I had to find them and punish them for their crimes before they had the chance to strike again.”

“It seems I am lucky, then. You have my utmost gratitude for coming to my aid.”

“Ha,” you huffed lightly. “You looked like you could have handled them yourself, see past their deception.”

“How do you know I am not simply that naive?”

“Are you?”

Alucard responds, “I confess, I do not know. At the moment, my situation is delicate. I probably would have welcomed any friendly face to my company should they present themselves.”

You seemed surprised by his honesty, even he did not know why he would confess such a thing, but at the moment, he felt that he could trust you. You offered an amicable smile. “In that case, you, sir, owe me. Big.” There was an unmissable, playful glint in your eyes when you said this.

The dhampir laughs, a rumble deep within his chest that resonated in his voice. He has not laughed like that since his adventure with his speaker and hunter. And even then it felt like such a long time ago. “Undoubtedly,�� he added with a smirk.

There was a comfortable moment between you two before you casted a glance to one of the open windows that led to the outside. The day was still young. “I should get going, then. Pay my final respects to my kin at home before leaving Wallachia.”

“Leave Wallachia?”, his brow raises. “Where will you go?”

“I’m not sure, really. Anywhere that will allow me to...heal my wounds, I suppose.”

It was in that moment that Alucard was assured of this blooming and unspoken kinship between you and he. He already admitted to himself that he rather liked you and would like to get to know you better, perhaps even allow you to help him combat his loneliness. For this reason, his next words flowed effortlessly.

“You shall stay here.”

You were shocked, clearly taken aback by this unexpected offer and was stumbling with your words of protest, “I-I can’t possibly- You don’t know me, sir.”

“I know that you are selfless, possess a strong moral compass, and went out of your way from God-knows-where to spare me, a stranger, from the machinations of ingrates. You did not need to do so, let alone warn me, yet you did so, anyways.” Alucard closes his eyes for a brief moment in pensive thought before continuing, “I understand what it means to mourn for those you loved deeply. Please. This is the least I can offer, allow me to thank you and give you the space and time to mend your wounds. All of them.”

For a moment, he thought you would refuse and you did not immediately answer. Your brows furrow in deep thought, your lips in a thin line. He was about to apologize for speaking out of turn when you spoke first.

“Very well, then...”, you conceded with a grateful and almost saddened smile. Your eyes met his with sincere intent. “And perhaps you will not have to mend yours alone, as well.”

Ba-dump.

That was the first time Alucard had ever felt his heart do that. It was such a surprising feeling that, in his shock, he thought he was dying. But he was surely fine and became curious to learn what caused it, eyeing you from his peripheral vision. He was certain you did something.

Suddenly, your eyes widened and your body stiffened so fast that Alucard thought you would jump out of the chair. “I’m so sorry, I was so caught up with what happened earlier that I never asked for your name.”

Again, he steals another moment of careful consideration, his golden eyes bore deeply into your gaze before answering, “My friends call me Adrian.”

And thus how your agreement came to be. Some time has passed and during that time, you two have grown closer. Alucard found himself enjoying your company immensely and expressed genuine interest in learning everything about you and you to him. You never seemed bored in his company which pleased him greatly as once he overheard someone describe him as a “cold spot in the room.” He was certain that the person didn’t mean to harm him with these words, but it affected him, nonetheless and Alucard feared that he would be subjected to an eternal life alone. But your presence changed that thought, your kindness and genuity showed him that he did not need to face his depression on his own. He cannot remember a time when he has smiled so much and has you to thank for that. Even as your wounds healed and you had plenty of opportunity to leave, you stayed by his side and continued to be his light. And he did not question you one bit.

Ba-dump.

That alien sensation began to feel familiar to him the longer he is with you. His heart remained still in the beginning yet now every once in awhile, it would pound for a single pulse in your presence, growing in rhythm and intensity as time with you went on until he was certain he could dance to the beat. When you would look his way, it skipped. When you would look away when he caught you, it quickened. It was such a tortuous, wonderous sensation.

His heart stopped completely when you declared that you loved him and it began to pound instantly when he felt the sweet press of your lips against his. Never in his life did he felt the need to breathe until he tasted you. It became too much, too blissfully suffocating that he feared that he could drown within you forever and never rise up again. As if sensing the intensity of his growing addiction to you, you pulled from him and placed your head atop his chest, your ear above his pounding heart.

“I can hear your heartbeat. Is this the human side of you?”

“It is a side only you know.”

It went on like this for some time. As your affection for one another grew intensely, your innocent intimacy turned into a needy hunger. He felt like a starved man each time you two touched each other desperately but had no idea how to sate the burning inside until you gave him his answer by lifting his nightshirt and-

“Adrian?”

The drowsy sound of your voice pulled him from his wonderful reminiscing and his golden eyes met you.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, but...did you sleep at all?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a hint of worry in your voice

He replied reassuringly, “A little bit.”

“Was it that bad?”

He raises his brow at the subtle teasing under your tone. “Actually, I’ve been waiting for you to wake for another round.”

You laughed and would have continued to laugh before your voice was choked by a yawn. Your eyes were beginning to droop again. “I’m sorry, Adrian. As tempting as that sounds-”

He silences you with a chaste kiss upon your lips.

“Shh. I only slightly jest,” he smiles. “Go back to sleep.”

“Only slightly jest,” you teased again.

Alucard lifts you effortlessly to place your body atop his. “It will be a long morning when you wake.”

You looked at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes and a sly curve to your lips. “Promise?” challenged you.

Badump.

When Alucard finally regains himself, he grins at you with a lecherous flash of his fangs and squeezes your bottom generously before pressing you against his hips. The dhampir now has a newfound restlessness and was making you aware of you of it. His smirk curved with pride at your blush from the feel of him.

“Sleep, you idiot,” he commands lowly before placing a final and firm kiss upon your lips then tucking the top of your head beneath his chin. Although you huffed in slight frustration yourself, you listened to your love and fell back to sleep with a content and impatient sigh.

It was moments like these before the break of dawn when nothing else in the world mattered but the two of you lying together in complete peace, your hearts beating in blissful harmony- did he find happiness renewed.

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fanaticit · 3 years

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Nobody Heard Him

Preview: "But it was more than Loneliness, wasn't it, Martin? It was terror, too. Don't you remember how that terror felt? Feel it again. Feed on it."Or, Peter Lukas imposes the Lonely onto Martin.

Pairing: Implied Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood (Jonmartin)

Genre/themes: Hurt, angst, loneliness

CW's: Using power over somebody in a harmful way, being trapped in a bad situation, nobody can hear/see you, psychological and emotional abuse, manipulation, loneliness, etc. Be safe, please!

Word Count: 1627

Martin was drifting through the Archives with every care in the world resting on his sagged shoulders. He stepped on each marble tile, remembering that he didn't have to worry about stepping on the grouting between the tiles anymore. "Step on a crack, break your mother's back." He used to remember that every time he walked on pavement or tiles, but it didn't much matter anymore, did it?

He reached out a hand to open the door to his office. The knob had been black-painted metal, but years of use had made most of it metallic, reminding Martin of several statues he saw in Scottish streets a while back.

His pale hand passed through the doorknob.

It took him a moment. He tried again, and then again to open the door, to feel that cold smooth metal under his palm. Because clearly, that'd been his mind playing tricks on him. He hadn't slept well recently, or it was a trick of the light. When his hand went through the door, he screamed. Someone patted his shoulder.

"Ah, hello there Martin. Having a rough one, are you?" asked Peter with a genuine grin.

Martin shook his head in disbelief. "Peter, what just happened? My hand, it... it went through the door? But-- but you could touch me! You did, just now. What just happened?" he stammered, staring at his hand, which seemed to be growing less opaque to his eyes.

"Yes, that does happen eventually to most of us. Nothing to be alarmed about, I assure you." Peter assured triumphantly. "In fact, this is wonderful progress. How long has this been going on? I'm proud of you, Martin."

"I-- I can't open the door," Martin murmured to himself. "But I've seen you open doors. You walk around and pick things up, I've seen it. Peter, what's going on?"

Peter contemplated for a second. "I guess it's time for a discussion on the Lonely, Martin. Would you care to step inside?" He opened the door to Martin's office. Martin stepped inside, numb.

The Avatar of the Lonely looked at the wall while he spoke. "To truly harness the power of the Lonely, you must understand its power, its potential, its effect. Let me tell you some stories of people I knew of, Martin. There are so many factors in Loneliness. I can't list them to you, it's bigger than that. It's always too big to summarize, so I'll do some storytelling."

"A woman who worked up the courage to confess to someone she loved, only to be shut down and cast out like waste in front of a laughing crowd. How she cried in the bathroom, how she wanted to sink into the ground or disappear instead of being embarrassed in front of others. Humiliation and rejection are symptoms of the Lonely."

"There was a teen I knew of who associated with sad fools that glorified loneliness. They loved the pain inflicted on them, boasting about their latest tragedy until they couldn't separate grief from joy. They infused Loneliness into themselves eagerly, for the story they could tell later. The glorification of tragedy is Loneliness."

"Some old man who once had a name, but nobody remembered it anymore. Loneliness from age, from the grief of losing everyone close to yourself."

"Two siblings vying for a parents' affection, only for one to be left alone when the parent was forced to choose between the two. Being abandoned."

"A successful lawyer choosing to stay late at work again instead of seeing his family, falling asleep in his office instead of in his home. A priority that lets Loneliness win."

"Loneliness no matter how many people are close. Pushing them away, feeling like they don't care. Anxiety and depression, loneliness despite a crowd around you."

"Oh, there are so many shapes and sizes of Loneliness, Martin. The feeling of being Lonely is similar to the true understanding of it-- overwhelming in every way. It's incredible, isn't it? I can tell in your eyes-- you feel it. You felt the Loneliness of every poor soul I described. Isn't it liberating, Martin? Knowing that you understand the lock, but not the key? Understanding the underlying terror of everyone leaving you behind, understanding why they all assume nothing will improve."

"It's marvelous, don't you think, Martin?" announced Peter, feeling the emotion of his novice.

Martin's face shook. "It's... it's terrible. I hate it. I want no part in this, Peter. I can't do this. I can't feed on their grief. It's wrong!"

He stumbled out of his office, his face grey and hands shaking. Jon. He needed him, Jon would know what to do, how to help him out of this. Where was he?

There-- in his office, the door wide open and a tape recorder going. His head was rested on his arms, and he was silently staring at the spinning tape. There was something haunting about his expression. Martin sped into the room in a panic.

"Jon, oh thank god, I need your help. I did something really stupid, and Peter's chasing me, and I need your help. Please, I can explain it all later, but he's gonna be here any minute, Jon. I don't want to disappear. He wants me to feed on their pain, but I can't do it. I don't want others to be hurting. Come on, we've only got a moment. Why aren't you listening to me? Jon!" Martin ranted, only then looking up at noticing that Jon hadn't moved.

"Jon, listen to me. Please, why aren't you getting it? Peter's going to be here any second and--."

"I'm already here, Martin," Peter announced from behind him in the doorway. He sauntered in, taking a place by Martin's side, staring at the Archivist with no emotion. "He can't hear you, you know."

"Stop playing games, Peter. Not with Jon. You said you'd leave him out of it," Martin stammered, looking between the two others in the room with worry and terror.

"I'm not," Peter said, matter-of-factly. "It's all you, Martin. I'm proud, really. You're making incredible progress."

"Stop it! I don't want any part of it. You're the one doing this, aren't you? Just another one of your sick mind games!" yelled Martin, no longer worried about being overheard, because nobody could hear him.

"This was all you, Martin. I didn't have to do this for you, you figured it all out on your own. Of course, I chose well. You were the perfect candidate for the Lonely right from the beginning. I didn't even have to work it into you, it was already there."

"Shut up!"

"The employee surrounded by superior minds, the eternally jealous and awestruck novice. The friend-to-all with no friends at all. The one ruled by emotion over logic, trapped in a room alone with their terrors locking on the door."

"Stop talking, Peter."

"Were you Lonely when you were trapped in your apartment while the worms tried their hardest to enter and dissect you? Were you Lonely when you faked your way into your job? Were you Lonely when you lost your companions in the tunnels and wandered about on your own until you stumbled upon a corpse?"

"I said shut up!"

"But it was more than Loneliness, wasn't it, Martin? It was terror, too. Don't you remember how that terror felt? Feel it again. Feed on it."

Martin had stopped talking. He went rigid and curled up into a ball instead, sinking to the floor and cradling his knees.

"You're the outcast, Martin. Why else would their only use for you be to bring tea? And they didn't even ask for that, either. Maybe they just didn't want you around at all. Is that why you faced Elias's terror all alone? And then so many of them died because you were too useless, too cowardly, too foolish to act. You're fixated on the one you love, but your death would be inconsequential to him. Everybody you've burdened with your problems was exasperated, so why do you even bother?"

The ringing in Martin's ears was intense, but Peter's words were more so. He stared at Jon, who hadn't moved. He was staring at the tape, oblivious to the scene in front of him.

"They all assume you're nothing, and you'll never have the strength or the resolve to even try to prove them wrong. You felt the Lonely when you lost your mother, too, but you felt it even more when she was here. Do you remember what her last words to you were? Grief seems like second nature to you now, but it never gets better, does it? All the little things you keep seeing. The little reminders."

"Just leave-- me-- ALONE!" screamed Martin out of the blue. He made eye contact, forcing Peter to look away.

"I really am proud of you. If being Lonely is what you wish, then I've succeeded already, haven't I?" Peter murmured. "You'll be able to become visible over time, though it will take effort. Although who's to say that you're really not visible?"

"...Maybe they all don't see you because they don't want to. Just something to think about. I'll see you tomorrow, Martin." Peter let out a sigh, then walked out of the door and vanished from sight.

Martin collapsed against the wall, suddenly exhausted. He stared at Jon, who was still staring at that tape recorder. The Archivist paused, then looked at the door. "Martin... where are you?" he whispered to himself, then rubbed his eyes and stared at the tea he'd made himself. "I miss you."

"I wish I could explain, Jon" mumbled Martin. "I miss you." He muttered it to himself under his breath, Loneliness taking him under again.

Nobody heard him.

AN: Stay safe, it's a crazy world out there. Have a good night. --fanaticit

#the magnus archives #tma #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #peter lukas #the lonely #angst #fanfic #the magnus archives fanfic

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itsleah728 · 3 years

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Perfect~ Julian x Reader

A/n: PLEASE READ! Hello everyone, I took a bit of a break for the holidays and such. I also have been quite down in the dumps, I get sad over dumb things like getting a zit or not liking what I create. I wanted to write this story to show that no matter what you do or how you look you’re not alone and there is someone waiting out there for you. That person may either be a friend or a lover but either way you’ll never be alone. Now I’m only young and haven’t truly experienced life yet, I’ve never even been in love only minor crushes but that’s a different story. Anyways I also wanted to write this because I wanted to try getting my love for life back you know? I haven’t even been creating art lately which is horrible because I love making art. Well if you read that whole thing thank you but it’s fine if you didn’t. Now onto the actual story which may be shorter than normal.

READERS POV. (1st person) I know I normally do 2nd person but I didn’t want to say “you” knowing that not everyone is experiencing things like this.

WARNING: This story shows self esteem issues and a fear of being alone!

Julian has been out working for a while now, which for me is never a good thing. Being alone leaves me with only my thoughts, my thoughts happen to be mostly negative. Ive never told Julian about what I fear or what I think because I never want to be a burden to him. He deserves someone who can brighten a room and cheer others up, not someone sad and insecure. People have told me not to be so sad over small things that can’t be helped but it’s harder than some people choose to think. In my opinion being happy is something you have to earn or something that you gain. Most of the time I silently cry myself to sleep praying that I don’t wake Julian. Night time is when my thoughts keep me awake, consistently telling me horrible things that deep down I know aren’t true.

Julian has been working for hours now and my breath slowly starts to shorten as the hours go by. A fear or being alone is what I have had sense I was young. I grew up being scared and stressed that I’ll get older and be alone but then I found Julian. He is always by my side and only leaves when he has to work, I don’t mean to sound clingy either but right when he leaves I get scared that he won’t come back. I could never tell him to stay home either because his job makes him happy and no matter what my fears say I won’t take away his happiness.

My fear for loneliness decreased as I got older and met more people but the reasons for my fear never went away. I’m so deep into my thoughts that I don’t even notice the door creaking open. I don’t snap out of my own head until I hear Julians voice speak up from behind me. “Darling, are you okay?” I jump in the air at the words suddenly spoken. I turn around to see Julian staring at me with a worried expression sketched across his face. I give him my best fake smile and pray he doesn’t ask anymore questions because I may just over flow. “Julian I’m doing great how was work?” Julian clearly doesn’t buy it but he continues on with the conversation non the less. I know he’s going to ask about it later though.

We continue on speaking about Julians work day until late that night when we decide to finally go to sleep. The sun decided to no longer shine and gave the moon its time. The light glow of the moon illuminates Julians handsome features as he wearily glances at me from the corner of his eye. He probably think I notice but he’s never been the stealthy kind.

He stares for a while more until his filter finally cracks, “Darling are you positive you’re feeling well?” I debate on telling him anything when all of my fears and negative thoughts start creeping in. I involuntarily let out a saddened whimper which puts Julian on high alert. He stares shocked towards my shaking frame until he he seemingly snaps out of it and gives me a bone crushing hug. He whispers kind words into my ear as I break down and start sobbing.

Julian eventually calms me down until I’m able to speak when he asks “tell me what’s bothering you please!” His voice is begging me to tell him what’s on my mind and I answer before I can even think about it. “Would you ever leave me?” I finally speak the one question that’s been tainting my mind all my life, I ponder for a moment and realize how stupid it sounds. I’m about to take it back when Julian almost screams “never would I ever even think about leaving you love, now what brought on these foolish thoughts?” “I-I I’ve always had t-these horrible thoughts, I w-was just scared one d-day you’ll d-decide to l-leave me” I manage to stutter out while holding back another round of tears.

I calm myself before speaking again, trying to explain why I feel the way I feel in greater detail. “I have always felt ugly, whether it be because I have blemishes or I’m too fat/skinny (either of these can be a reason for someone to be upset so I wanted to include both) I have never really liked myself so I put on fake confidence and try going with the flow.” I don’t dare look up at Julian as I take another breath to continue. “I have also always had a fear of being alone, I thought I would grow up and everyone would think I’m ugly or no fun and would just leave me. I sometimes get scared when you go to work that you’ll never come back.” By the time I’m done I am holding my breath and tears back.

All is silent before two arms wrap tightly around me. I feel wetness drop onto my shoulder as I realize I have made Julian cry. I gasp as tears start falling even harder than before. I then wrap my arms around Julian even tighter than his are around me.

We sit like this for a moment before Julian pulls back and wipes his eyes. “Darling I would never leave you and if you felt all of these things why haven’t you told me?” I sheepishly look away before responding with “I didn’t want to be a burden to you because you deserve better than that.” Julians jaw drops and he seems to get tense until he whispers “love, you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I love you too much to ever even consider leaving you.” I feel like crying again but manage to hold back as I mumble “thank you.” Julian slightly smiles my way and he slams me into his chest once again. He kisses my head as a wave of sleepiness washes over me, probably from crying so many tears. Julian lightly pushes me against the bed and says “rest now darling we can speak more about this in the morning.” I mumble a incoherent response as my fatigue decides to completely wash over me. The last thing I notice is Julian squishing me against his tall frame and me thinking ‘I’ll never be alone’ before the darkness takes over.

SORRY FOR THE KINDA SAD CHAPTER BUT I THINK IT HAD TO BE DONE FOR ME TO FEEL REMOTELY BETTER.

Check out my Instagram @its.leahs.art

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alexius-fr · 3 years

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Chapter 5 - The fires of betrayal

Click the link for the AO3 version, or enjoy below the cut :)

His skin was on fire.

His blood coursed palpably through him, searing hot when Rowan's wings spread themselves out wide. There wasn't enough room in the lair for the full wingspan of the large imperial, but that didn't seem to bother him. His blind eyes darted wildly, the blood magic churning in his veins. Sanguine couldn't move, the power of Rowan's magic binding him in place. It was a haunting experience, yet primal in it's nature, making every inch of Sanguine's body tingle. The sensations and the smell of blood were overwhelming, to the point that Sanguine nearly passed out, bordering on the brink of consciousness.

Vision going dark, he felt his whole body starting to lean more heavily on his legs, head spinning. He tried to signal to Rowan, but he was too caught up in the ritual and did not hear Sanguine's weak whisper, Sanguine's heart slowing dramatically, eyes fluttering shut and his body slumping to the squishy floor. The last thing he heard was a gasp, then darkness took hold.

When he woke, he was covered in something stringy, soft and warm. He jerked his head up, blowing the substance out of his face. It appeared to be Rowan's mane, the hair covering both of them as Rowan had gone for a nap right next to him. Had the imperial passed out during the ritual as well? No, he was positioned too deliberately for that. Sanguine felt strained, his body hurt, a tad cold as well. It was that cold part that made him stay where he was. Rowan was a living furnace, warming him up with his body, that was coiled carefully around him. There was no harm in staying put a few more minutes, recover from the whole ordeal.

Sanguine wasn't exactly sure what had happened, what Rowan had seen or done during the ritual, but he didn't feel different, apart from his weariness. Part of him wondered what had made him trust the ancient Imperial with this in the first place. Why had Rowan wanted to perform this ritual? What purpose did it serve? He supposed he would find out in due time, now that he hadn't actually been killed by it. He hadn't even really considered that he could die during this. And he was a bit shocked to find out he didn't actually care. He could've died, sure. But then what? His clan was rebelling against him, so what harm was there to just disappearing? Then they would finally find out how hard it was to lead a clan and lead it well. They thought Silas could do better? Let them find out the hard way how wrong they were.

But he was alive, and he was pulled from his thoughts of self loathing by Rowan's stirring body, a dismayed moan rumbling through him. Sanguine took a look at the imperial's scarred face, wondering what had inflicted such terrible damage to his eyes in the first place.

“Someone pressed my face into the Wyrmwound.” Rowan mumbled. Had he read Sanguine's mind? “Yes.” “Stop.” Sanguine said, frowning disturbedly.

“I can't.” Rowan yawned, lifting his head. “We're connected now. That's what the ritual did.” “What? Why?” Sanguine asked, worming himself out from under Rowan's coil. “I don't know.” Rowan said with a shrug.

“What do you mean you don't know?!” Sanguine snapped. “I didn't ask for this!” “Nor did you try to stop me. Or ask me what I was doing beforehand.” Rowan frowned with a hint of playful sass. He had him there, though.

“Tch.” Sanguine tisked and turned his head away from Rowan's peering white eyes. He had no answer for him.

“Were you hoping for an easy end by trusting a seedy seer to perform an obscure and possibly lethal ritual on you? Sorry for dissapointing.” Rowan said, his expression intrigued. “But it'd have been a waste of such a handsome dragon.”

“Who dunked your face into the Wyrmwound?” Sanguine asked, ignoring the attempt at a compliment. Rowan rose to his feet, yawning again. He shook his body, his dirty mane dropping several bits of old dirt and whatever else was stuck in there. Sanguine felt a bit antsy, knowing that mane had just been draped over his body. He'd have to bathe when he got back.

“I don't remember.” Rowan replied truthfully. “They're probably dead. At least I hope they are.”

“Or what, you'll kill them?” Sanguine frowned. “And how did you survive being dipped in acid?” “I survived through Her will only. I saw Her great eye blinking back at me under the surface of that horrible pool. It was the last thing I ever saw with my own eyes.” Rowan said, Sanguine intrigued.

“She's been speaking to me ever since.” Rowan leaned in closer. “She tries to speak to you as well, but you deny Her. Deny your legacy. It will catch up with you, wether you like it or not. You can't run forever.”

“But what if I no longer see the point in running?” Sanguine spoke, done caring about how weak he'd probably look if he admitted to his depression. “Or the point of even continuing?”

“So you're just giving up? Why? Sure your brother is rebellious, and your clan doubts you. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise. Rid yourself of the doubters, continue with only those who are true to the cause.” Rowan said, as if it was that simple. But Sanguine found himself liking the idea, none the less. There wasn't a time he remembered that he was ever without Silas. And going back to face him almost felt stifling, like it was choking him. Would it not be nice to be free of him?

Rowan looked amused. “You are considering it.” Sanguine did not respond, still in his head about it. Rowan cocked his head and observed, wings out slightly so his rune eyes could see. Sanguine looked back at them and found that he was no longer weirded out by their stare, instead finding something strangely comforting about Rowan's presence.

He'd gotten used to the carved runes, the blind stare, the slightly off focus angle of Rowan's head. And beneath that messy mane, and the scars, was a smart, powerful dragon. Wether it had been the ritual or the fact that he'd not experienced physical contact for so long, he felt something drawing him to the imperial.

“Would you like to stay? Just a while longer.” Rowan asked, a warm tone to his voice. “We could talk a bit more. I'd like to know you better.” “Don't you already know everything?” Sanguine frowned. “Your blood, sure. But I'd like to listen to your tale from your mouth. You have a nice voice.” Rowan was hardly subtle, the years of loneliness had likely left him a bit socially awkward, but Sanguine did not mind. Instead, he smiled. “Thank you. I think I would like to stay a little bit longer.”

“I'll get us something to eat. I'm famished after that bloody ritual.” Rowan grinned at his own pun and Sanguine rolled his eyes as he made himself comfortable, but couldn't stop a little smile.

When he left Rowan's lair the following day he felt strangely rejuvenated, energetic. Rowan followed him outside, his wings spread as widely as possible to take in the environment. “It's been ages since I went outside.” Rowan stretched. “It seems the land has moved on, Her influence spreads slowly but surely.”

“It does feel good to be back.” Sanguine admitted.

“Does that mean you'll come back one day?” Rowan asked, a suggestive nature to his question.

“Maybe. If you promise to wash your mane.” Sanguine teased with a wide grin, Rowan pushing against him. “Fine. You may have a point there.” he admitted, blowing strands of hair out of his face self-consciously. Sanguine chuckled, pushing back with affection.

“I will come back.” he promised. “Soon.”

“Good. I'll miss you.” Rowan said, surprisingly honest. “I always thought I would hate having company in my lair, but.. well, I don't hate yours.”

“Just a mild dislike, then?” Sanguine suggested, Rowan chuckling.

“No. I liked it. Be careful out there, and come back in one piece.” he said, with a hint of worry.

“I've faced hotter fires than Silas, don't worry.” Sanguine comforted him. “I should leave if I'm to make it back in time before sunset though.” “Of course.” Rowan said, a little dissapointed. The two shared an affectionate headbutt before Sanguine stretched his wings and prepared for take off. Rowan watched him, echoing a soft roar of goodbye. He watched until Sanguine had become a dot on the horizon, sighing as he walked back into his lair.

It was awfully empty here now, without Sanguine's presence to fill it. But it wouldn't stay empty for long, Rowan smiling as he curled up, magic filling his mind and body with a gentle glow.

The lair was in uproar when Sanguine returned, Silas out front speaking to his clanmates. Khadiyah was next to him, the golden rings that decorated her horns gleaming in the sunlight. Sanguine was intrigued, landing a little bit further away to be able to listen in.

“We were not meant for this. We don't belong here. And to stay here because Sanguine's got cold feet about returning home? I say we don't have to take his leadership at face value anymore. He's been leading us for a long time, not always to the best of results. You know that as well as I do.” Silas preached. “We shouldn't be denied our home because of an old man's fears.”

“Aren't you just as old?” Lethe asked, with a frown.

“We are two months apart!” Silas snapped. “It makes a world of difference. I am clearly more fit to lead. He's old, traumatized, scared. He's outlived his usefulness. We can be better without his melancholy dragging us down.” he spoke passionately, obviously committed. “We do this the way we know how. Like Plague dragons. Because that's what we are. Weakness can not be tolerated. Even if it comes from our leader. Especially if it comes from our leader.”

The other dragons seemed unsure, though some were openly nodding. The fire in the pit crackled hard and cast high shadows upon the rock behind them, coating everything in a hard orange glow.

“Why are you so reluctant to stand up to him? Do you think he will harm you if you try? We are all faster, stronger, better fighters than him.” Khadiyah said, spirited. “He won't stand a chance if we all leap upon him. If we use the strenght of the pack.” She was supported by many, nods and murmurs travelling through the group. “His time is done. Join us, and together we will make a strong clan. A true Plague clan, under new leadership. A fresh start, with a Queen and King who honour our traditions!” she spread her wings and roared, others mimicking her.

Ever a flair for the dramatic, Sanguine decided now was a great time to emerge from hiding.

“Oh, am I interrupting?” he asked, glibly. Khadiyah pulled up her lip as a warning, but Sanguine was focused on Silas.

“Sanguine.” Silas said, surprised. “You're back. I thought you'd left.” “But I've returned, as I always do, to my clan. What is this?” Sanguine looked around. “Gathered to hear the heresy my little brother is spouting? Are you all really so eager to leave?”

“Honestly?” Almediha stepped forward, her gentle voice determined. “Yes. We were promised a new home. A new clan, a stronger clan. The wait has made us all anxious. Why do you even want to stay here?” “There is something here I must set right before I can move on.” Sanguine said. Nobody knew he was talking about Zephyr, and his mother Ziray, of course, but he didn't want to drag them into this now. So he kept it vague. “But we don't want to wait for that.” Azrael said, his gleaming green skin flickering in the light of the fire. Traitors blood.

“They want to go home, Sange.” Silas said. “Just like me.”

For a long, tense moment, the two brothers stared at eachother. Sanguine had taken comfort in Silas' presence from the moment they met, knowing he had someone he could always trust at his back. After all, who better than his own brother to support him? He always enjoyed their snarky banter, even if it grated on him sometimes. Had they truly changed so much that this was the only direction they could go from here? Silas seemed convinced it was, eyes gleaming with purpose, his mate directly behind him, and behind her, their child. He supposed Silas had different priorities now. He couldn't even really hate him for it. But it stung none the less. For five years, they had faced their problems together. But it seemed that time was at an end.

“Go, then.” Sanguine said, the words grave out of his mouth. “I don't want to fight you over this.” “Because you know you would lose.” Khadiyah hissed.

“No. Because I don't want to hurt the one dragon that has been at my side through all of it, despite his reluctance to do so. Despite his rebellion. You are still my brother, and I will not turn to fratricide. If you must leave, if that is what you really want.. then go.”

“Wait, you're not going to fight me on it?” Silas asked, taken aback. “You're right. I'm old. Tired. If you think you can do better, please do.” Sanguine said, shaking his head. “But I'd like to walk away with my life. Survive, adapt, overcome. I need this as much as you do. Perhaps to grow we need to go our own separate ways.”

“..Yeah. Perhaps that's true.” Silas agreed. “Well.. I guess, goodbye then?” he still seemed baffled, unsure how to hold himself.

“Goodbye, Silas. Lead them well.” Sanguine nodded solemnly, turning around. He retreated into the lair under the baffled stares of his clanmates, the silence respectful and stunned. This was not how anyone had expected this to go down. They were expecting a fight, or even just an argument. But Sanguine was done giving others what they wanted. He felt relief at the realisation that after tonight, nobody would be depending on him anymore. He could do what he wanted, truly, for the first time in many years. It gave him a sense of freedom, listening to his former clanmates leaving, The sound of their wings slowly disappearing into the night.

#fr #flight rising #fr lore #flight rising lore #my lore #fr lore dragons

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thepancakeboi · 4 years

Text

74. “I can’t take the loneliness anymore.”

Divergence AU Part I

Next | AU list | Prompt source

Fanfic under cut

10/9

Ren: Have you played never have I ever?

I stare at Ren’s most recent text. Where is this coming from all of a sudden? He’s been unfortunately busy the past several days, as he’s lamented to me over text. Perhaps he found himself some free time. A little curious about the reason for his text, I quickly text him back a response.

-x-

Goro: I have not, but I am familiar with the rules.

Ren: Would you wanna play?

Ren: Ann, Makoto, and Futaba will be there too

Goro: If you don’t mind me asking, why are you inviting me to play?

Ren: I like hanging out with you

-x-

Something about that response, the fact that he enjoys my company, makes me...happy. It’s not the first time he’s said it. He has told me over and over again that he loves being around me and that he would always try to make time for me if I wanted it. I look back down at the chat as I notice another text from Ren.

-x-

Ren: And they’ll gang up on me if you’re not there

Goro: I see... you have ulterior motives.

Goro: Not that it matters.

Goro: I highly doubt that they would “gang up” on you, though.

Ren: Trust me Akechi they will

Ren: Do you wanna play?

-x-

I take a minute to think it over. I don’t know his friends that well. This could give me an easy opportunity to get to know them a little better to improve my plans for them all. Having made my decision, I text him back.

-x-

Goro: I would be delighted to join you.

Ren: Yay! :D

Ren: We’re meeting up at Leblanc at 5

Goro: I’ll be there.

-----

I arrive at Leblanc a few minutes early. Ren perks up as the bell over the door rings, immediately grinning when he notices it’s me. He leads me upstairs to his room up in the cafe’s attic. “Hello,” I say in greeting, noticing that the others are already here.

“It seems we’re all here,” Makoto remarks when I sit down beside Ann, Ren taking the seat next to me. “Who wants to go first?”

Futaba nearly jumps in her seat as she answers, “I will! Never have I ever worn fake glasses!”

“I told you,” Ren remarks while putting down a finger. “I’ll go next. Never have I ever not attended high school.” Futaba makes an overly dramatic wounded expression as she puts down her own finger. She should have seen that one coming.

“Your turn, Akechi!” Ann says.

“Very well,” I reply, mulling over a response in my head. “Never have I ever attended Shujin Academy.”

Futaba laughs as Ann, Makoto, and Ren all have to put down a finger. “This one’s in my party now!”

“I thought you were on my side,” Ren says, pouting a little.

I shake my head. “I wasn’t targeting you in particular, Amamiya-kun. It was simply an option that applied to a lot of people.”

Ann smiles, apparently already having her statement prepared. “Okay, my turn. Never have I ever taken mock college entrance exams.”

Makoto and I both put down a finger while she thinks of hers. “Never have I ever...been told I look drop-dead gorgeous?” I’m glad Ren doesn’t say anything as I put my second finger down, although he looks like he’s tempted. Ann has to put one down as well.

Futaba grins eagerly, clearly still bent on going after Ren. “Never have I ever been in a bathhouse.” Ren somehow has the nerve to smile when I realize Futaba’s statement is also true for me. He’s definitely remembering that day from last month. Futaba seems a little surprised at this. “Hey, I got a two-hit combo there!”

“Never have I ever slept for longer than 48 hours in a row,” Ren immediately shoots back.

My turn. “Never have I ever been to a beach.”

I give a little giggle as everyone is affected besides me. Ren looks at me, curious. “Wait, you haven’t?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“That’s it. Next summer, I’m taking you to the beach.”

...I don’t need my mind telling me that he won’t be alive long enough for the sentiment to matter.

Luckily, Ann is able to draw me out of my thoughts. “Never have I ever fell asleep studying.” Great. I put down my fourth finger. “Wait, you have?” she asks in disbelief.

“It was really cute actually,” Ren says for me. “We were studying together downstairs and he fell asleep leaning against m-”

“I think that’s enough information from you, Amamiya-kun,” I interrupt. “Niijima-san, I believe it’s your turn?”

Makoto nods in acknowledgment. “Yes. Never have I ever spent over 100,000¥ in one purchase.”

Futaba looks straight at Ren as both of them have to put a finger down. “Never have I ever committed a crime IRL!”

Ren looks almost distraught as he sighs, now only having four left. Whether or not he’s being overly dramatic about it is left up to debate. My right index finger twitches, as if my subconscious is tempted to be honest. I can’t, though. If they knew the truth about me...besides, there would be too many questions that I simply couldn’t answer without spinning a giant web of lies. It’s simply too early for that, but...could I really-

“Futaba, that statement applies to you as well,” Makoto remarks.

“Whaaa?”

“Hacking government websites is a crime.”

“Aww, man,” Futaba groans.

Ren smirks, looking rather smug at the moment as he says, “Okay, never have I ever...”

The game continues on for a little while. Ren is the first to be eliminated, largely due to Futaba targeting him, although I am the one to take him out (and not on a date like he suggested when I said as such). Makoto ultimately wins in the end. We’re all departing when Ren asks if I want to stay and play some chess. I accept the offer, surprisingly enthusiastic. I’m not even paying much attention to the game itself. Something is on my mind. Why is it that I am eager to spend so much time with Ren? I know I need to get close to him, but I’m genuinely enjoying the time spent with him. Am I getting too close?

“So, Akechi...what crime did you commit besides being drop-dead gorgeous?”

I nearly drop the rook in my hand, startled. “Huh? What are you getting at?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t. I saw your finger twitch. You wanted to put your finger down, didn’t you?” I don’t bother answering, instead deciding to place the rook down on a new spot. The game is almost reflective of the current situation. Ren has me cornered. “Knew it. But who would’ve guessed? Ace detective Goro Akechi, secretly a criminal? Come on, spill the details!”

“Do I have to?”

“I told you mine. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

“Very well...I robbed the 777 in Shibuya when I was eleven years old,” I easily lie. “Happy now?”

“I would be...if you were telling the truth.” He moves his knight, taking the rook I had moved earlier and trapping my king. Checkmate. “If you really don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine. I won’t force it.”

I’m silent for a few minutes. Ren, true to his word as ever, doesn’t try to force me to talk. Finally, I say, “You won’t like the real answer.”

“You can tell me if you want. I won’t judge.”

His words bring me to a decision. I just hope I don’t come to regret it. Sakura-san isn’t here, leaving me free to say my next words. “We should find somewhere else to talk, preferably somewhere where no one can eavesdrop. Surely you know such a place...Joker.”

His head jolts slightly, the only indication that the name I had heard him being referred to as in the Metaverse means anything to him. I find this confusing. I would have expected him to have a stronger reaction. “I do. Let’s go.”

Ren remains surprisingly silent after that. Normally, I would welcome it, but this silence is...unnerving. He’s rarely this quiet around me, and when he is, he still manages to constantly remind me of his presence. This is different. Right now, it feels like he’s trying to hide in the backdrop and make himself inconspicuous. What is going on in that head of his? I’m almost tempted to ask him what he’s thinking about if only to get him to say something, anything. I don’t. There will be plenty to talk about soon enough.

The time both drags on and speeds right along as we arrive in Shibuya. We exit the train, Ren leading the way up to the station square. He pulls out his phone, looking at me to see if I am ready. I nod. This is it.

The familiar dizziness signals our entering the Metaverse. It’s a feeling I may never get used to. My outfit has changed to my white princely attire. Good. I don’t know if I’m prepared to reveal that just yet. I turn to see Ren in his own thief attire. “How did you find out?” he asks, his voice finally breaking through the uncomfortable silence. His demeanor has changed. He seems more confident, and he has a sort of aggressiveness that he rarely exhibits in the real world. Even his gaze is sharper, more intense. I may know him as Ren Amamiya, but right now, the one I am facing is Joker.

“Your friend...I believe he goes by Skull here? He should learn to keep his voice down.”

“Are you gonna turn us in?”

“I should arrest you.”

“Should?”

“But I won’t.” Not yet, at least.

“And you have a Persona?”

As expected, he’s asking so much, trying to figure me out. I’m not going to stop the flow of questions. “Yes. I do.”

“How did you discover the Metaverse?”

“A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to get evidence of your group’s identity as the Phantom Thieves. I must have been dragged inside.” It’s partially true. I had been gathering evidence to later blackmail them, but I had gone into the Palace on my own volition. That and I’ve been here many times before that day.

“You’re lying.”

I raise an eyebrow, even if he probably can’t see it under my mask. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t just discover the Metaverse recently. You’ve known about it for longer than that.”

“And what evidence do you have to support your deductions?”

“That day at the TV station. You thought you heard something about delicious pancakes, but...Morgana was the only one who mentioned them.” I stare at him. Does he mean to say what I think he is? “You know, the cat,” he adds.

So the cat in his bag is the small black and white creature that accompanies them in the Metaverse. And by hearing him in Madarame’s Palace, I- “...Oh.” Now I understand. If I had been telling the truth, I should not have been able to understand the cat in June. “So that’s how you figured it out.”

Joker nods. “What are you hiding from the Phantom Thieves...and from me?”

I turn my back on him. There’s only one thing left for me to do. “Maybe it’ll be best if I show you.”

One of these days, I knew I would be showing him my true colors. Never had I anticipated it would be like this. My outfit shifts and morphs in an explosion of black and red fire crawling up my body. White and red is replaced with black and blue. I turn to face him just as the transformation is complete, the world tinted red by the lenses of my mask.

“A black mask,” Joker whispers. It’s clear he’s trying to process the truth of the matter, that I’m the person he’s been hunting down since Kaneshiro’s Palace. To his credit, Joker doesn’t look incredibly surprised, even if I’m sure he is. He hides it well. “You’re...”

“That’s right,” I reply, my voice nearly a snarl. “I’m the one who’s causing the scandals everyone has been talking about. The mental shutdowns. The psychotic breakdowns. They’re all because of me. Oh, and Okumura? He’s as good as dead.”

There’s that look of surprise I’ve been anticipating. “You killed him?”

“Yes. I did.” I take the mask off, looking right at Joker as I say, “You wanted to know what crimes I’ve committed. Well, there’s your answer.”

“Why?” he finally asks.

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“This being?”

“All of it, I guess.”

“My Metaverse activities are all part of a plan that’s been two years in the making,” I start, being purposefully vague. This isn’t where I had been expecting this conversation to go.

“A plan?”

“Yes. A plan to settle a...very personal grudge.”

“Who’s this grudge against?” I put my mask back on, hiding my facial expression. Joker’s latest question is one I cannot answer. He’s not satisfied. “What’s their name?”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to force it.”

“I just wanna help,” he says, about to approach me. “Please-”

“I don’t want your pity!” I yell.

He stops, realizing that right now may not be the best time to get near me. “I’m not pitying you.”

“Oh, really?” I hiss. “Then why go this far to help me!?”

“Because I care about you.” He...cares about me? How could he possibly...? I don’t understand. He should be hating me right now! Yet he claims that he cares about me, even now. “One more thing. If you’re not wanting my help, then why are you telling me any of this?”

My response comes unfiltered, hiding nothing from him. “I...I can’t take the loneliness anymore.”

Joker’s response surprises me even more. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” He says it with no doubt or hesitation. He truly believes that he’ll be there for me when I need him. As selfless as ever. But I won’t rely on him. I refuse to let him help me because whatever ridiculous savior complex he has tells him to. As if sensing my thoughts, he adds, “We could make a deal instead if you want.”

“A deal?”

“I’ll help you with your plans if you help me find the man who accused me of assault.”

That has me on edge. “Just what are you planning?”

“I want to help, no matter what it takes. It’s not pity, Akechi. I want to prove that.”

“And you think that, by striking a deal with me, you’ll be able to convince yourself it isn’t? Don’t make me laugh.”

“You wanted to help me, remember?” His question gives me pause. I had offered to help, yes. When he rejected my offer, I had even tried to insist on helping, but he refused to budge. “I wanted to deal with it on my own, just like you. I told myself, ‘It’s just a year.’ But we’re doing this the wrong way. We’re strong, but I don’t think we should be doing this alone. So, let’s do this...together.”

“How idiotic could you get? We’re enemies-”

“Rivals,” he immediately interjects.

“Fine. Rivals. But we’re not meant to work together.”

“Even rivals team up sometimes.”

“You...” I manage to hold back a laugh as I continue, “You have some strange logic sometimes.”

“So?” Joker extends his hand. “Do we have a deal...Goro?”

It takes me a few moments of sputtering over him calling me by my first name to get out a response. I take his hand in mine, making sure not to accidentally jab him with my clawed gauntlets. “Fine. I accept your proposal.”

#akeppi writes #p5 #persona 5 #goro akechi #akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #ann takamaki #makoto niijima #futaba sakura #akeshu #shuake #writing prompt

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raendown · 3 years

Link

Pairing: YamatoNaruto Word count: 2487 Soulmate au: The one where you can hear what they're thinking whenever you consciously try to listen

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 220

Tenzo knew his soulmate within moments of meeting them. He really hadn’t expected that. After the life he’d led and a continuing lack of proper social understanding he’d expected it to take a very long time for him to figure it out if and when they finally met. There had been times he’d bemoaned the fact that their mental connection didn’t extend towards an ability to have actual conversations, limited only to allowing them an ear in to each other’s thoughts at will, but after so many years of worry it seemed there had been nothing to fear on that front. Unfortunately in all the time he’d spent wondering what they would look like or how their voice would sound out loud Tenzo had forgotten to wonder about one thing. Only one detail, yet such an important one. He’d forgotten to wonder at their age.

Looking at the still growing bundle of energy in the clearing ahead of him, Tenzo did his best to identify each of the emotions coalescing in the hot tangled ball around his heart. Shock, clearly, was the foremost emotion, that fate had chosen to bond him with someone so much his junior without even allowing them the mercy of meeting after Naruto had fully grown. Confusion was also a large part of it, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was confused about or if he was simply feeling generally off-kilter. Years of rigorous training had the back of his mind reminding him that such emotions would make for poor concentration on the mission awaiting them. But there were still so many other feelings woven throughout the stranglehold suffocating his heart that he just knew he would never be able to untangle them all for a proper look.

Was he disappointed? Tenzo couldn’t say. He could admit in the privacy of his mind that Naruto’s features were already handsome but at the same time he felt almost dirty for even noticing. The boy was only seventeen.

The best thing he could think to do at the time was to hold his silence. Whatever his feelings about this situation, it would surely be for the best if he figured them out for himself before admitting to this child that they were matched. Before that first day was over it was obvious that Naruto was not the sort to take big news quietly or keep it to himself either. Tenzou felt certain the boy would understand if he simply put off such an awkward conversation until he was sure they could both be ready for it.

Unfortunately the longer he held his tongue the less sure he became, a year or two quickly turning in to half a decade almost before he realized, and Tenzou suddenly found himself adrift in a post-war utopia with everyone around them finding the places they were always meant to be, leaving him far behind. He wondered sometimes if Naruto even really noticed that he’d never found his bond. In the wake of the Fourth Shinobi War the boy - more of a man now than a boy - found himself awash in suitors of all genders, handing out dates left and right like he had a well of infinite love for anyone who wanted a taste. And Tenzou, well. He wanted a taste. It may have taken just over five years for him to finally admit it to himself but the rare glimpses he allowed himself in to Naruto’s thoughts showed him to be as genuine as the face he showed to the rest of the world. It would have been very difficult indeed to find a heart as true as Naruto’s.

Some days it was harder than others to understand why or how he had worked himself in to this stupid corner, unable to speak and yet unwilling to hold his tongue. On those days when the loneliness he’d built for himself became too much he found himself often drifting to the roof of the administration tower. It was always peaceful up here. Most people in the common forces assumed that the Hokage’s ANBU would be camped out here on lookout at all hours of the day and yet such assumptions only meant it would be too easy a spot to be ambushed. Generally they avoided it, letting the rumors fly free to encourage any possible attacks away from their true hiding places, and that left the roof free for a despondent ex-ANBU to sit with his back to one of the massive pillars while he looked for answers in the stars above.

The last thing he expected was for anyone to join him there. Or rather, the last thing he expected was for Naruto to be the one who finally interrupted his mournful solitude.

“You don’t mind?” Naruto pointed at the spot beside him but didn’t bother to wait for a reply before flopping down to the ground so close their shoulders brushed together. Tenzou peeked at the younger man from the corner or one eye.

“I thought you had a date tonight?” he murmured.

“Eh, he was boring. Kept going on and on about how I saved the village and he’s so grateful I would even give him the time of day and blah blah blah.”

Tenzou smiled against his will. “After all those years you put in to making the village recognize you, you don’t like it when they do?”

“Oh for sure!” Naruto puffed up his chest. “I like being someone that others can look up to! It’s just kind of annoying when they treat me like I’m better than them somehow, you know? Just ‘cause I got real strong doesn’t mean I don’t want to have normal conversations and stuff. I’m still just me.”

More than anyone else Tenzou knew that, it was one of the reasons he had slowly fallen in love, and so he nodded without trusting himself to speak. His silence must have been noteworthy somehow because when he didn’t get a verbal response Naruto turned to lock their eyes together with an unreadable expression. Tenzou knew he could have simply dipped in to the other’s thoughts. He could know everything he wanted to know in just a few moments. Instead, like the coward he was, he merely blinked and waited for Naruto to speak first.

He didn’t have long to wait.

“You know...sometimes we build things up in our heads and it gets bigger and bigger until one day you realize it’s just never gonna be the same in reality as it is in your head.”

“I’m sure if you told him he was making you uncomfortable that he would have backed off a little,” Tenzou said. Naruto gave him another look he didn’t understand.

“No, I wasn’t talking about that guy.”

“Oh.” At a loss, he turned his face away and looked back up at the stars. “What were you talking about then?”

For a long minute Naruto said nothing and the feeling of expectancy that hung in the air between them was honestly baffling. It was hard to imagine what the other might be waiting for without reaching across the connection between them to listen firsthand. Forcing himself to have patience, to his shame, required falling back on some of the old repression techniques he had learned under Danzo’s rule.

“I was talking about you.”

Only five words, a simple message delivered in quiet tones, but they stole the breath from Tenzou’s chest as he whipped his head back down again to stare at the man beside him.

“W-what do you mean?” he asked breathlessly. Naruto was grinning openly in amusement.

“You know that this connection thing works both ways, right? I know I’m kind of a knucklehead but I’m not really stupid, dattebayo!”

“I...I never…”

Waving a hand to cut him off, Naruto chuckled a bit. “You didn’t know I knew. I know. We can both hear each other’s thoughts and stuff so, I mean, it wasn’t all that hard to figure it out. You were really uncomfortable with it for a long time so I figured you’d be even more uncomfortable if I made you talk about it. Just being friends is still great!”

“You...but...I…” Now more than ever before it seemed that words were beyond him.

Because Naruto was right, this connection between them was a two way street. Just as it was for every other pair of soulmates in the world. How that detail could have escaped him for so many years was a mystery - although Tenzou distantly suspected it probably had something to do with willful ignorance. He was grateful for the uncharacteristic patience as he struggled his way through the revelation that he had apparently worried himself in to knots over nothing. For multiple years. Evidently Naruto had figured it out quite early on. Still, once his brain could finally process anything beyond the wild siren noises of panic he couldn’t help but get stuck on something quite specific.

“Just...being friends?” he managed to get out. To his utter bafflement Naruto flushed, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Should have known you’d catch that, dattebayo. You’re a really great guy! And you’re my soulmate! It’s okay if I like you, right?” The nervous chuckle he made sounded so out of place from someone usually so brash and confident. “But, uh, hey! It’s okay if you’re still not comfortable. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we have to do anything with that if you don’t want or if it still bothers you that I’m younger or something. Just, maybe you could think about it?”

Tenzou swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat to croak out, “You think of me like that?” A moment later he breathily added, “You know I think of you like that?”

His answer was a helpless laugh as Naruto shrugged. Either he’d run out of words or he was listening through their link and realized that all these massive bombs he was dropping were just a little too much for an aging and poorly socialized ex-ANBU to handle. Ask him to assassinate the head of another village and Tenzou would approach his given task with a cool head. Ask him to face his own emotions and the only thing he was likely to accomplish was a few weeks of serious but confusing thoughts, no actions.

Several minutes passed before it was obvious that neither one of them knew what to say next. Naruto had laid all of his cards on the table, he was clearly waiting for some kind of sign for where to go from here, and it took a while before Tenzou realized he would have to provide that sign. Leaving it up to him to drive whatever was happening here was clearly a bad decision.

As he proved when the only thing he could think to do was to lean over and crash his mouth against the younger man’s with all the pent up emotion of someone who had been keeping a secret for more years than he wanted to count. Despite the fact that Naruto had only just confessed to sharing his feelings it was somehow still a jolt to feel him respond in kind with a low groan. With no clue what he was doing Tenzou did something for the very first time in his life; he threw logic out the window and let his emotions rule him. It was something he had always admired about his soulmate, something he’d always wished he could bring himself to do, and later it would occur to him how fitting it was that it was this leap of faith that brought them together at last.

When the kiss ended Tenzou discovered he was panting with the exertion of his own heartbeat, not embarrassed only because his partner was breathing just as heavily.

“Yeah?” Naruto mumbled.

“Yeah,” Tenzou whispered back. Neither of them needed to elaborate. The connection between them had never been so open. All of Naruto’s thoughts streamed in to his mind almost as though the man were projecting them as hard as he could and the sheer happiness they both felt in this moment was enough to quell every fear that might have arisen.

“For real? We can-?”

Since he really didn’t have any better of a handle on his words yet Tenzou chose actions instead. This time when he moved Naruto met him halfway and both of them had to chuckle at their own awkwardness as their teeth clacked together. It was, somehow, a perfect moment. Just the right way to remind them both that they were human and messy and that it was okay to be those things. Tenzou closed his eyes for a moment just to breath. When he’d come to sit up here on the roof tonight he’d expected nothing more than to spend another few hours pitying himself for the seemingly impossible situation that he’d put them both in. Now…

“All those dates with all those different people,” he ventured slowly. “They weren’t real dates, were they?”

“Kind of. Lots of people want my attention and it doesn’t really hurt anyone to give them the time of day - so long as I don’t let things go too far. Mostly they just want to say they went out with the hero of the village, not many of them were really interested in me as a person. As long as you were still worried about being together I figured...why not just make all those people happy without actually having to break any hearts?” Naruto looked a little nervous like he wasn’t sure that was alright but Tenzou found himself slumping with relief.

It really was just like Naruto to give so much of himself like that. And as much as Tenzou had always been fine with Naruto finding companionship in others when he himself had refused to step forward, it was still an odd sort of relief to know the other had actually been waiting for him all along.

“Don’t break my heart, okay?” he said.

Naruto didn’t say anything, only pulled him in for a kiss that didn’t miss this time, but he didn’t have to use words. Everything he was feeling was right there in his thoughts. Tenzou reached out to cup the back of his soulmate’s head even as he let his mind sink in to Naruto’s where everything he had ever wanted was right there waiting for him. It was amazing how avoiding these little glimpses as much as possible had denied him what he most desired for so long but what was done was done. There was no point crying over past mistakes.

Feeling more carefree than he ever had before, Tenzou let the world drift away and filled his mind with the one man he now looked forward to filling his future with.

#rae writes #soulmate collection #yamanaru #yamato #tenzou #naruto #fanfiction

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imperial-martian · 5 years

Text

Protective vs Possesive {Mycroft Holmes x Reader} [Part 2/?]

A/N: Sorry that it has taken me so long to get done, but I’ve finally gotten inspiration with the help of @kye06. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I was a bit iffy with it until the end, which I really love. Let me know what you think and if this should be the end or if more parts should be added!

Mycroft x Ex-Wife! Pregnant! Reader

Angst/Fluff

(Mentions of Divorce, Pregnancy, Fainting, Hospitals, Mentions of Llightly Unhealthy Weight Loss, Soft! Mycroft)

•—•

Sherlock was sat in Bart's hospital sitting room, his hands interlaced and his chin resting upon them as he waited and waited. Each second that past felt like hours, each minute felt like days. The ticking of the clock at the corner of the room was slowly driving the man crazy.

It had only been a month and a half since you've moved into Baker Street with Sherlock and John. Every day seemed to be weighing down on you more and more. There was no more waking up to morning kisses that, Mycroft so loved to greet you with, or the smell of freshly brewed coffee. No more late-night cuddles and silent reading as you laid in his arms, smiling.

With every memory came the ghost of his touch, and with that came the guilt. You should've cherished those moments you had with him, to thank Mycroft for always ensuring your safety. Now, you couldn't even do that. The simple thought of him made you want to cry.

Yet, you were unable to think about anybody at the moment. Not while you lied, unconscious in a hospital bed while doctors and nurses tried to determine what was wrong before finally, they did.

However, Sherlock was still waiting, and he was still slowly going insane with impatience. He let only a second pass him before he cams his older brother, his blue eyes shut as he listened to the ringing of the phone.

On the other side of London, in an office, sat Mycroft Holmes, a government official who was just scribbling down a note on a piece of paper. The moon was shining in through the window, having just crept past a cloud that obscured some of its light. The auburn-haired man let out a little grunt into the glass of scotch he had just raised to his lips. A phone call was the last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment.

Nonetheless, he grabbed the device, seeing if he recognized the number before feeling a sudden sense of shock and worry as he saw his brother's name. In a quick motion, Mycroft had placed down the scotch glass while throwing on his coat as he brought the phone up to his ear.

"Sherlock?" he said through the phone, moving around his desk to gather some things. If it wasn't an emergency then at least he'd be packed and have an excuse to head home.

Sherlock let out a small sigh as he heard his brother's voice, a sound he wasn't sure that relieved him or annoyed him. "Mycroft, come down to Bart's, Y/N's in the hospital," he stated, getting straight to the point and not wanting to waste time.

Mycroft was surprised for a moment, not because Y/N was in hospital but because he was being informed that she was. "Why am I being told this? And why am I being asked to visit her?" Mycroft asked, his tone airy and yet, somehow it sounded almost cold.

"Because this was your wife Mycroft! Because the person you once loved is now lying unconscious in a hospital room, and even I don't know what's wrong! That's why Mycroft, because if Y/N had even cracked a bit of that facade you've created, then you'd care enough to see her. God forbid she took her last breath in an hour and you weren't here to say goodbye or sorry, wouldn't you want to see her one last time?!"

Mycroft was shocked by his brother's outburst. He'd been yelled at plenty of times before by Sherlock, however, never for such a severe reason. A moment passed before he said, "I'll be there in ten minutes," and hung up the phone.

True to his word, Mycroft arrived at the hospital ten minutes later, walking towards the waiting room where Sherlock no longer sat. The government official walked up to the front desk, asking what room you were in.

"294," the nurse said before Mycroft said a quick thank you and made his way down the hall, his umbrella gripped tightly in his hand. He held it at the center, his leather shoes loud against the tiled floor.

He reached the room after a bit of walking, peaking through the window to spot his brother sitting at a chair beside the bed. Mycroft didn't bother looking around to see you, knocking on the door and waiting for someone to answer it. When the door was answered, Mycroft's blue eyes caught the ones of his brother who simply nodded and let him pass.

"Is she alright?" Mycroft asked, taking a step into the room and looking over at you. He placed the umbrella off to the side of the room and took a seat once he was finished.

He hadn't seen you properly since the ordeal that took place months ago. His heart ached at the sight of your s/c skin being much paler than what it usually is. Your body was a bit skinnier than he remembered and for a moment he feared the worst.

"Has she been eating properly?" Mycroft asked his brother who remained by the door.

Sherlock shook his head slightly. "She seems to be skipping breakfast every morning," he starts. "However, thankfully she eats her other meals."

Mycroft nodded, taking you over once more. "Did the doctors tell you what was wrong?" he inquired, his eyes never leaving your body.

Sherlock made a small hum. He knew that this should be something told to his brother, as well as yourself, by a doctor, but he knew it'd eat his brother alive if he didn't tell him. "She's pregnant Mycroft," he paused for a moment, expecting to see a reaction from Mycroft. When he didn't he continued, "they said she had fainted due to stress. They suspect she doesn't know she's with child yet."

All Mycroft could give in response was a weak nod before he asked his brother to leave for a moment. Sherlock obeyed Mycroft's wishes, taking a step out and moving back towards the waiting room before leaving altogether. He knew it was best to leave them both for some time.

Mycroft had leaned back against his seat, his mind seeming to bark questions at him, some that he didn't know the answers to. He looked back at you for a moment, taking in your h/c hair and familiar features. His hand was trembling as he brought it up to brush the strands of hair that cling to your face behind your ear.

Mycroft felt guilty at that moment. Guilty for leaving you when he could have been taking care of you, holding you close and protecting you. He was angry at himself that this entire situation was caused simply because he wanted to keep you safe, and yet, of course, he was the one harming you. It was always like that.

He'd never felt such a strong urge to hold you in his life. To whisper to you softly, letting you know that he couldn't wait to be a father and that you'd make an amazing mother. Yet, you were no longer his. He'd asked for the divorce.

The sudden feeling of warm, soft skin brushing against his arm caused his blue eyes to snap up towards you, his hand moving to clutch at your instinctively. "Y/N," he breathed out softly.

You felt emotional seeing Mycroft beside you, but you did not cry. All you did was smile back before facing the heart rate monitor. "Mycroft, what's wrong? W-why are you here?" you asked, scared and confused.

Mycroft tried his best to give you a reassuring smile. It was clearly forced and strained. He was about to answer you when a doctor entered the room, both heads turning to look at them.

"Ah, Mrs. Holmes-" you'd both tensed at that, but you couldn't blame the doctor. The divorce had yet to be finalized. "I'm glad to see you're awake. We've run some tests and nothing looks to be too worrisome. As a matter of fact, the cause of your fainting, although partially due to stress, is caused by pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations," the doctor explained.

Your eyes widened as you looked at Mycroft, fear written all over your face. How would this work now that you weren't with Mycroft?

Mycroft caught onto the fear quickly and gently ran a thumb over your knuckles, trying to assure you it'd be alright. Once the doctor left the room, Mycroft turned to look into your e/c eyes.

"Mycroft, wh-what are we going to do?" you asked, your hands trembling just as much as his are.

He took in a sharp breath for a moment, looking at you. "Y/N, I-I'd happily call off the divorce if you're willing to do the same. I... I'm not sure if I've truly ever wanted it. Ever since I've said it all I've felt was misery," he stated, his voice shaky. Mycroft's never had to say something like this. He's rarely ever let his emotions be spoken so freely.

You'd brought your hand up to his cheek when a single tear slipped from his eye. It wasn't a tear full of sadness, it was one of anger and guilt... and of the loneliness he tried so hard to get rid of only to welcome it back with open arms. Now, all he wanted to do was take you into his arms.

"I'd want nothing more than that, My," you whispered, and hearing the nickname- the one that used to bring him so much warmth -nearly caused Mycroft to cry more. He didn't, instead, moving to sit on the edge of your bed before taking you into his arms and adjusting himself so that he wouldn't hurt you.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of your body against his cool skin causing him to feel safe and at home. "I've missed you," he whispered, placing a kiss against your shoulder.

"I've missed you too My," you whispered back, carefully running your fingers through his hair. "You'll make a great father," and just the thought of it caused you to smile because you knew it'd be true.

Mycroft lifted his head a bit to look into your eyes, a soft smile on his face. "And you'll be the best mother anyone could ever have, my dear," he replied, leaning down to give you a sweet, but passionate kiss against your lips. He'd only broken apart to murmur a soft, 'I love you,' before kissing you again.

#bbc sherlock #mycroft holmes #bbc mycroft #mycroft #mycroft holmes x reader #x reader #mycroft x reader #holmes #bbc mycroft x reader #fluff #angst #protective vs possessive part two #mycroft x pregnant! ex-wife! reader #mycroft holmes imagine #mycroft imagine #bbc mycroft holmes

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

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[ @sasuhinabigflash2020 || Day Seventeen: Craving ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

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Lying on her bedroom floor, Hinata stares up at the ceiling, occasionally giving an owlish blink. The little glow-in-the-dark stars and planets she stuck up there when she went through her space phase are still there, their oddly pale yellow-green dim and listless in the daylight hours of morning. About how she’s feeling right now, as a matter of fact.

It’s quiet today. Like it is every day. And has been everyday for...gosh, how long has it been, now? She’s lost count.

Lost count of the days since everyone disappeared.

Not just her father and her sister, either. Everyone. One day Hinata simply woke up...and found she was the absolute last person on earth. Or at least...she’s yet to encounter a single other person. And it’s been months, at the very least. The phone never rings. No cars drive by. Turning on the television shows the same programs as per usual, but they’re all reruns. And the news stations are just endless cycles of advertisements.

Online is much the same. Nothing updates. But nothing completely stops, either. Somehow she still has power, internet, phone connection...it’s odd.

She goes to the store a few blocks away. Everything is still there. And nothing is going bad. The produce still looks the same as the first day she went.

At first...it was extremely hard to wrap her brain around, as one would likely expect. Theories clogged her brain for days. Was she actually in a coma, dreaming all of this? Was she dead, stuck in some weird limbo? Had she simply...lost her mind?

And then the thoughts of absolute loneliness. Never seeing her family again. True, she didn’t have the best relationships with either of them, but...to have any chance at that changing ripped away made her realize how much she’d truly wasted a very final opportunity.

In the end, however...there was simply acceptance. Deciding to, at least until she reached some unspoken limit, to just...try living. See how far she could get.

And so far, it’s been...okay. While she can’t explain (and maybe doesn’t want to explain) the seeming lack of passing time beyond a day and night cycle (how else could nothing be rotting?), other things change. The weather still varies. It just rained yesterday, and it’s a balmy seventy-two degrees today according to her phone, and sunny. And thought it’s not been quite long enough to confirm seasons, Summer does seem to be conceding to Fall.

Which makes her wonder how that’s going to go. There’s been no shut-off in the power, but what if something happens? She’d never know how to fix it! Maybe just...find someplace where the power was still on. Or steal a generator. Eventually though she’ll run out of gas, right…?

Many of the rules of this new (?) world escape her.

But for now, those life-changing questions aren’t what’s on her mind.

...she has a craving.

For a few moments longer, she maintains her position on her floor. But then enough will musters up, and she sits upright with a grunt before hauling herself to her feet. Putting on some shoes, she then leaves the house and heads down the road.

The door she leaves unlocked. How’s she going to get robbed, being the last person left? And that way, no ever worrying about locking herself out, either.

...it happened once last year when Hanabi was out of town with a friend and her father on a business trip. Most embarrassing reason to talk to her neighbor ever.

Plugging in earbuds to her phone, she keeps one ear open, just in case. Otherwise, her favorite pop songs play in the background of her walk, humming absently. A few times she’s mustered up the courage to sing out loud, given no one is around to hear. But even being completely alone...she’s still shy.

Twenty minutes sees her at the supermarket. Not bothering to take a cart, she instead tries to remember what aisle she needs, wandering down the front and reading the signs above each. What category does it fall under, again…?

Lost in her musing, she actually squeals out loud in surprise at a sudden crashing sound.

W...what…?

Frozen in place and barely daring to breathe, only her eyes flicker in search of...something. Anything. It sounded like it came from the back of the store...maybe some animals got in? Those, at least, she’s seen plenty of. Squirrels in her backyard, cats sunning themselves on porches. She tries not to think of all the abandoned pets with no one coming home for them anymore.

But in the subsequent silence, she doesn’t hear the scurrying of surprised feet like she would expect of anything inhuman. Instead...an impressive string of oaths and swears reaches her ears.

...no, it...it can’t be…

Throat suddenly dry, Hinata weighs her odds. On one hand...it could be someone friendly! Maybe she’s not as alone as she feared! But...on the other...they might see her as a threat, and kill her. Or do...other horrible things to her.

Loneliness can leave one wanting, after all. Or just drive a person to a sick, brain-rotted edge.

Eventually, she overcomes the absolute tension in her legs and shuffles forward a few inches, doing her best to remain absolutely quiet. There’s now just vague rustling sounds as...whoever it is rummages through...whatever they’re doing. Part of her still wants to run screaming, but her curiosity about another person existing in this unreal reality is just a bit more convincing.

She peers down each aisle as gingerly as possible, finding each empty as she gets closer and closer to the noises. And with every step, the nerves in her gut wind tighter and tighter in apprehension. Could this be any more suspenseful?!

Finally, reaching the last aisle, she lets one eye look past a display of chips before withdrawing with a hint of a gasp.

They’re there! Whoever they are!

Calming her racing heart just enough, she then glances back around. An entire display of boxes - of what she can’t tell from here - has been completely obliterated, creating a huge spill of cardboard across the back corner of the store. And right in the middle of it is a person.

Clearly scavenging for certain types of...whatever those are, they stuff the occasional box into an oversized duffle bag slung over their shoulder. Seems someone else is making a supply run. Looking at another box, they weigh the option before tossing it nonchalantly.

...for some reason, that makes her frown.

Once the bag is full, however, the person in question starts heading back her way.

Panic.

Withdrawing and not knowing where to go, Hinata dances in place for a long moment before ducking behind a “pixelated” display of cases of soda depicting the local football team logo. From there, she watches as the stranger walks right past her.

He looks to be about her age. Messy dark hair, fair complexion, typical clothes of boys she’s seen at her highschool. But she doesn’t recognize him...not that she’d know everyone anyway, her school and city are pretty big. Or maybe he’s from out of town, passing through and gathering more supplies.

The possibilities are endless, and she’s only getting more curious.

Once he reaches the doors, he slings the bag to the floor and...picks up another one? Where’d he get all these things, anyway? Then back he comes, clearly on a second round as he ducks into another aisle.

Realizing she’s safe, Hinata makes to follow, creeping up to the same aisle.

Only to scream when he comes back out.

Seems he took a wrong turn.

To his credit, he doesn’t shout back. Rather, he stumbles back with a wheeze, going ghostly pale as Hinata manages to trip over her own feet and fall on her backside.

“P-please! Don’t kill me!” she cries, arms lifting to shield her face.

“W...what?”

Hearing his own panic, Hinata risks a glance. He just...stares at her in obvious confusion.

“...I...I thought, um…” Well now she’s embarrassed. Heat floods her face. “...it’s just been so...so long since I…?”

“Christ lady, you scared the shit out of me,” he then cuts in with a heavy sigh.

“S-sorry!”

“The hell were you doing?”

“Well, I...I came to get -?” Oh hell, that’s not important. “...I heard a noise, and...saw you. I haven’t seen another person in...in months. I wasn’t sure what to expect, I guess.”

“...you too, huh?”

She blinks.

“Everyone else just up and disappeared on you?”

“Y...yeah. I thought -?”

“You were the last person on earth?”

“...mhm.”

“Me too. But it seems there’s at least two of us. Which makes me wonder if there’s any more.”

“I honestly thought this was all some strange dream...maybe I just h-hit my head and fell into a coma.”

“Yeah, same here. But then I started getting hungry and no one but me was gonna feed me.” He gestures to his bag. “Hence a supply run.”

“Yeah, I...I know how those go.” After a pause, Hinata sheepishly gets back to her feet, posture withdrawn. “...I’m Hinata, by the way.”

“Sasuke. I’d say nice to meet you, but uh...kinda biased given your the first face I’ve seen in months.”

At that, she can’t help a giggle. “True. Still...I’m g-glad to know I’m not alone. Where do you live, if...you don’t mind me asking?”

“Like eight blocks west of here.”

“I’m three to the north.”

“Makes you wonder how we haven’t crossed paths until now, huh?”

“Yeah...weird.”

They fall into an awkward silence.

“...W-well, I...I better let you get back to…” Hinata gestures to his bag.

“Hey, you wanna share numbers?”

At that, she jolts. “... I -?”

“Just in case we want to talk or something. Not like we have anyone else to chat with, right? And we might need help at some point.”

“Oh...g-good point. Um…” Fiddling with her pockets, she pulls out her phone and trades her digits. “Sasuke, right?”

“Yeah. And Hinata?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool.” He tucks his mobile back into his sweatshirt. “Guess I’ll, er...talk to you later.”

“Guess so. Um...b-bye.” Giving a very awkward little wave, Hinata steps past him and just..scurries for the door, heart once again pounding in her chest as she hurries back up the road.

If...if this Sasuke guy is still here...who else could still be around? Suddenly everything she’s assumed for the past few months is thrown into doubt. A few blocks apart, and it took them this long to cross paths. How many more could there be…?

Or is it just them?

So shook up is she, Hinata doesn’t realize - until she’s back in her house, leaning wearily against her front door - that she didn’t actually get what she went out for.

...well...maybe next time.

She’s had enough excitement for one day.

I have...no idea what this is kjdfdjhg just a cliche “last two people on Earth” idea that hit me completely out of nowhere xD The actual prompt has very little to do with it beyond never being revealed because...reasons. (I dunno what she wanted, she wouldn’t tell me lol) Anywho, I guess not...much else to say? Random piece is random, but hopefully still enjoyable! I need to start doing these at better times but I always write better at night...and today was busier than I expected. Take all my excuses :’D But on that note, I’ll see you guys later - thanks for reading!

#sasuhinabigflash2020 #shbf2020 #sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #best years of your life [ au ]

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