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icycoldninja · 16 days

Note

Dude I absolutely adore your Sephiroth angst fics, they're such good reads! I was wanting to request some angst with him around the Nibelheim Incident, his s/o accompanies him but ends up on the fire and he realises at the last second if thats a decent idea. Thank you again for all the quality fics :D

Thank you so much, it's always awesome to hear ppl lovin' them! I'm so psyched that people are finally requesting more Sephiroth 😁 Here you go and please enjoy.

Hold on (Sephiroth x Reader angst)

You had arrived at Nibelheim far later than Sephiroth and the others as Shinra, for some reason, had decided to put you in a separate truck and send you to join them at a later date. That, combined with the fact that the truck was overrun by monsters halfway through the trip, delayed you even furter, though that didn't stop you from coming up with a way to turn a disappointing situation into a happy one. You intended to surprise Sephiroth with your unexpected arrival, but unfortunately, you happened to set foot past Nibelheim's gate at the worst time imaginable.

You couldn't believe your eyes when you got there; the entire town and the woods surrounding it was on fire. Tall, bright orange and red flames shot up from the treeline, iluminating the sky with an ominous amber glow, meanwhile, terrified villagers ran out of their smoldering homes, scrambling for the path that led down to the road where they hoped they would be safe. Others were desperately trying to escape exhausted militiamen trying to guide them to safety, their terrified minds fixated on freeing a trapped or long dead family member crushed under the rubble.

As you beheld the scene, your mind grew frantic and began to spin with questions. What happened here? Where did this massive fire come from? Where were the SOLDIERS? Why weren't they helping the civilians? More importantly, what about Sephiroth, was he alright?

Panicking, you raced into town, ignoring the loud warnings of the rescue volunteers as they tried to keep you from rushing into your doom. You sped through the village, leaping over crackling logs and ducking falling planks of wood. The billowing gray smoke stung your eyes and burned your lungs, drying out your throat and making the simple act of breathing very difficult. Choking and hacking, you continued further into the blazing town square, soon arriving in the center of the smoldering village, where you were met with a collapsed water tower that burned just as brightly as the many crumbling homes around you.

"Sephiroth!" You screamed, voice hoarse and cracking. "Where are you?!" Shouting was a grave mistake. Your already irritated throat burned with the effort, causing you to double over, coughing so violently, you saw stars.

The flames were rising even higher now, to the point that the world seemed to be trapped in a cage of red and orange streaks. It would have been beautiful, had the smoke emanating from these flames not been choking you to death.

You were starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy and your knees were quivering fiercely, a sign you wouldn't last much longer. You were now faced with two choices: you could either stumble back out of town, and join the fleeing civilians, or continue onward in your search for Sephiroth.

Of course you chose the latter; how could you live with yourself if you didn't?

"Sephiroth!" You cried, again, still pushing forward despite your shaking knees. "Where are you?!" You suddenly tripped over a rock, hitting the dirt much harder than you expected. Your bones ached; they were probably badly bruised now, but that didn't stop you from continuing to claw at the dirt in a vain attempt to stand, key word being "attempt". Your limbs, which felt like wobbly twigs, gave out without much resistance. You crumbled to the ground once again and lay there as scorching hot walls of fire spiraled out of control all around you.

There was so much smoke now, it made your stomach churn and breathing painful. You knew you weren't going to last much longer, but what could you do to save yourself? You couldn't even move. Tears began to well up in your burning eyes and slide down your cheeks as fear and worry overwhelmed you. It didn't matter what happened to you; all you wanted was to know Sephiroth was safe.

As if the universe were answering your plea, you faintly caught sight of a pair of black combat boots slowly trooping across the scorched ground.

"Sephiroth?" You rasped, voice barely audible over the crackling of burning wood.

"This cannot be...Y/N?" The pair of black boots hurried towards you with speed you'd never witnessed before. In seconds, the silver-haired male was at your side, strong, gloved hands gently lifting you up and turning you over. Your hazy, smoke-clouded eyes blinked at him slowly as you struggled to focus on his worried face and those beautiful, yet strangely sad green eyes that were so intently focused on you.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The longer you looked at him the more you realized how different he seemed. There were dark shadows under his eyes; shadows you don't remember seeing. There was also a strange, almost insane gleam to his eyes, like a light shining at the end of a dark hallway.

"Sorry I'm a little late," You chuckled, coughing. "Surprise."

"You fool." Sephiroth mumbled, shaking his head at you. A few locks of his long, soft hair fell over his shoulder and cascaded onto the ground, the shimmering silver a stark contrast with the dark, scorched ground.

"Why did you come all this way? You should have remained at the entrance, or left. You know it isn't safe." You shook your head, smiling.

"I...wanted to...make sure....you're...ok..." You reached up and gripped his hand as tightly as you could; your head was getting lighter and lighter and you needed something to ground you.

"You...were concerned? For me?" Sephiroth sounded as if he couldn't believe you cared about him, which was odd because you always showed and told him you did.

"Of course..." You replied, realizing how hard speaking was growing. "I love you...why...wouldn't I be concerned?"

"Don't you know what I am?" Sephiroth asked, shaking you slightly. "Do you not understand with whom you are conversing?"

"You're...the love of....my life, Seph...that's...good enough...for me..." You punctuated your words with another series of violent coughs. Sephiroth could see your already labored breathing was worsening and could tell by the way you were squinting that your eyes burned so much you couldn't keep them open. When he felt your grip on his hand loosen, he felt true fear for the first time in his life.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't let go. Do not let go. Hold on to me. I...I will get you to safety." He was breathing heavily himself, his heart pounding in his hands. This wasn't supposed to happen. You shouldn't have come here. He couldn't lose you, not here, not anywhere. He refused to lose you. He was the Chosen One, come to reclaim the Planet, and you--you were to be his beloved bride. He couldn't lose you here, he refused to even consider the possibility!

"I can't hold on," You whispered, shaking your head weakly. "I...I'm slipping..." Your vision blurred, but you were vaguely aware of something warm and wet falling onto your face--tears, perhaps?

"Please...don't go...I need you," Sephiroth said, voice brittle, grip around your hand tightening. "Hold on. Please."

"I can't," You repeated, feeling consciousness starting to fading away; the sensation akin to falling asleep. "I'm sorry...I...just...want you to know...I love...you."

Your entire body had gone numb and cold now; you couldn't see and your throat hurt too much for you to even talk. It was a good thing your vision had left you, because it meant you couldn't see the horrified, pained expression plastered on Sephiroth's face as he desperately tried to keep you awake--but his efforts were in vain. You were gone.

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kamisama-kyaa · 7 months

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can you please continue Unrequited Love | Mercy X Genji X Reader? IT'S SO GREATT! i want to see what happened after the reader gone? does genji feel bad? does genji find out that the reader like him? i understand that this is a one shot but- IT SO GOOD and it's just really sad with the fact that there are no second part or more part after this...

Unrequited Love (Pt. 2) | Mercy X Genji X Reader

It's been years... probably around 6 years since you up and left Overwatch. You watched on the news how the organization fell apart after Sojourn testified against them in court and that was the main downfall. You missed everyone. You left without a trace; no one could find you. Did you like it that way...? Maybe, you weren't quite sure how to feel. Your heart would hurt every now and then when you thought about your old friends and how you couldn't ask them if they were okay. Contact with any former Overwatch agent would get you in trouble...

After all you were in Talon now.

"You in your head again?" Sombra asked coming out of her stealth ability.

"Just thinking." You would respond shortly.

"Boss wants us to meet. You in?"

"Yeah." You replied. Letting out a loud sigh and picking up your weapon, you turned around to face Sombra. She offered a slight smirk and turned on her heels to presumably alert other Talon agents of this meeting.

_-Time Skip-_

Mission Brief: Talon agents are tasked with landing in Circuit Royal. Escort the payload to the end, by any means.

"I see that someone couldn't be bothered to write more than they could read." Moira scoffed while rolling her eyes at the mission brief. You could agree, it was quite short but Doomfist was never the type to share more information than he wanted his agents to know. You and your teammates, Moira, Sombra, Reaper, and Sigma, sat in your seats within the ship.

"What did you expect? He couldn't have even come on this mission." Reaper shook his head.

"I expect that with a leader role there should be more direction." Moira threw the mission brief hologram projector to the side. "Ugh, get on with it and get us to the place." She reclined in her chair shutting her eyes. Sombra rolled her eyes and sat in the pilot's chair booting up the ship's system.

You looked out the window. It was a short flight from Talon's base, Italy to Circuit Royal, Monaco. As time went by, you had a strange gut feeling that something wrong was coming. Of course, if you had voiced your opinion to your teammates they would have brushed you off and calling you annoying. So, it was best to just keep it to yourself. Talon was nothing like Overwatch. There was no friendships or someone to confide in. No happy moments or warmth to be felt. Was this the feeling of loneliness? It couldn't be, you've felt loneliness even when you were a part of Overwatch. You felt the loneliness when Genji would talk about that damn doctor to you for hours. How stupid was he to never see your feeli- You shook your head frantically. You shouldn't think about him, but he was the reason why you left Overwatch in the first place...

After landing, your group finds the precious payload that was assigned for you all to escort. Everything was going smoothly until you heard heavy footsteps around the corner.

"Looks like we have company." Sombra smirked while cloaking herself in her stealth form, running into a building to scope out the approaching enemies,

"Agents. We've detected a threat to our objective. Get rid of them." One of talon's agents back at base radioed to the group through the comms.

"Oh but what if they are friendly?" Sigma asked, not even touching his communicator piece for the Talon agent to hear him. Moira punched Sigma in the shoulder and told him to focus. He looked sad but did as what he was told, positioning him in front of the payload and the team. The footsteps were growing louder as the team slowly inched forward with the moving payload.

Then...

You hear a metal mechanism deposit something, then green shurikens are headed straight at your team, everyone dodges and they stick to the wall right next to you. You snap your head to the shurikens. 'It can't be...' You thought. There they were. Your old team... Genji, Reinhardt, Cassidy, even your old teammate Baptiste, and ...Of course Mercy. Talon quickly recovered from the shuriken distraction as Overwatch slowly closed the gap and stood their ground. Reinhardt spoke up,

"Hold fast, do not let them through!" His loud voice sent shivers down your spine. It hit you with nostalgia just from all your previous missions with him.

"An old man like you should have retired long ago." Reaper snarked while blowing all his shotgun ammo into Rein's shield. Everyone joined in on the fight to break the shield. You couldn't help yourself, you new that the real target was Mercy. No matter what, you needed her to be dead. She would be the reason this fight would be drawn out. You raised your weapon and took aim at the angel. You just needed one shot to take her down. Before you could even make your move. He jumped up and deflected anything headed towards Mercy's way.

"Damn it." You cursed under your breath. Of course he would be protecting her, you thought.

"(Name)..." Genji landed on his two feet. You met his gaze. It was jus the two of you, it seemed like the distant battle wasn't even there. Everything went quiet, you were so focused on Genji and he was with you. "I never thought I'd see you again. This is where you were all this time?" He took a step forward, but you readied your weapon. You warned him to not take another step towards you. "(Name)-chan. We don't have to do this. Why must you fight along with Talon? Come back and join Overwa-"

"Shut it, Shimada." You barked. "You'll never know how you and the rest of Overwatch made me feel." He shot you a confused look. To him, it seemed like everything was fine. You ran away 6 years ago, but he couldn't piece together why you did. For all he knew, he thought you were tired of the constant war against Omnics. "God, all this time and you still haven't realized why I left, Shimada? You're more of an idiot than I remember."

"...Is this the path that you've chosen?" Genji slowly got into his fighting stance.

"I wouldn't have if you had just opened your eyes... Genji, I never wanted to be just a teammate or just a friend. It was so obvious that I liked you, or at least I thought I liked you. But, you were too blinded by your beloved angel. You couldn't have seen anything. You did this to me, Genji. All those times you told me about your crush, Ziegler. Think about all the times I felt alone and disappointed because you liked her." You sighed. A grim smile grew on your face. "That's why I need to do this." You finished while quickly aiming up at the medic. Genji ran to stop you but before he could, it was too late.

It took one shot. One shot to take her out. Her dead body falling down to the ground. The Overwatch team was stunned. They did not anticipate for one of their healers to go down so soon. Genji ran to Mercy's lifeless body. They were all distracted so this gave leverage to Talon. They broke Rein's shield.

"We have to leave!" Baptiste shouted to the Overwatch team. You were not going to let them get away with her body. You knew better than to let them take her body. They might have mastered the art of resurrection outside of Ziegler's knowledge. You and Reaper teamed up to assault those who surrounded the body. Without cover, they wouldn't be able to drag her body with them. Rein took most of the bullets while Baptiste pumped him with healing, trying not to let another teammate go down. Cassidy had to drag Genji off of Ziegler's body.

"Genji, C'mon we gotta go!"

"NO!" Genji shouted while desperately to reach towards Ziegler's body.

"I'm sorry, Genji." Cassidy took out his illegal old stun powder so that Genji would stop resisting. The Overwatch team retracted from the fight and disappeared in the distance.

"Nicely done." Reaper praised you. The two of you looked at the cold corpse on the ground that the two of you had secured. "Should have been done sooner." He glared at the body on the ground. Reaper then picked up the corpse and threw it on the moving Payload.

"All those antics about ethics... Maybe I could put her back together" Moira had an evil smirk on her face while she pet Mercy's head.

"Do whatever you please." You rolled your eyes. You walked a bit in front of the group. This was it. You got the revenge that you so wanted. Did this make you happy? Or was this the beginning of the end?

#genji x reader #genji shimada #jealousy #angst #overwatch #part 2 #x reader #imagine your crush #genji shimada x reader #mercy x genji x reader #love triangle #genji #ow #ow2 #fanfic #sad fanfic #talon #unrequited love #hateful love

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doudouneverte · 9 months

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What we didn't say

a/n: sorry I just needed to be sad...

*not my GIFs*

Pairing: (past)Natasha Romanoff x Female!reader; (mention) Yelena Belova x platonic!Reader

Summary: Natasha looses you and give up

Type: Angst (no happy ending)

Warning: implied cheating, ❗tw suicide ❗

word count: 566

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Dear Diary;

I know it's been a while since we talked together, but I think it's time. Recently, nothing seemed alright. You remember Yelena's best friend, Y/n? She and I used to date until last year. I know there are a lot of things we need to talk about, but not now.

So back to Y/n, she's...she changed a lot since the last time I told you about her. She became prettier, even if she already was; she still has this contagious laugh.

I know I'm the one who messed up, but it still hurts to see her with this new girl; her name is something like Wanda. If I could, I'd travel back and change everything, but I can't do that. Why is life not as easy as the book she reads?

Yesterday, she didn't acknowledge me (again). I tried to fix everything, but Yelena said that maybe we weren't supposed to stay with each other forever. I can't stop thinking about when everything was perfect, when she was mine, and when I woke up with a message from her asking me if I had a good night.

Now? I don't know. I think it's been three, or maybe four, well according to my phone, it's been one week since I left my bedroom. She seems to be everywhere. I still have one of her hoodies that she didn't want to take back, but now it no longer even has a little hint of her perfume.

In this room so familiar, where we had our best moment, our first time, our first argument, our first make-up, and our last sex, now it feels cold and strange without her. Mom told me about something we call the heartbroken disease...I don't know if it's real. I don't know if she experienced it even a little. I don't know; maybe I'm the one who is suffering from that now. I don't know; maybe it would justify why I feel numb and empty and why I can only think about her even after all this time.

Maybe it could explain why I couldn't say this. I feel like if I don't say it now, I will never have the chance again...I know you don't want to hear that, and you'd probably never trust that, but...I love you.

I love you, you who help me understand what true love is. You, who supported me for five years. You, who had to suffer from what I did. Yeah, I know it sounds ironic after I cheated on you, but I need you to know that I love YOU.

---

Natasha dropped the pen, carefully stood up, and walked to her wardrobe. She took a shoe box, opened it, and picked a picture of you two. She looked at it for a moment until some tears started to appear in the corner of her eyes. The woman carefully dropped the picture beside her and picked up a second object from the box.

On the other side of the door, her sister, Yelena, was walking to the kitchen before she heard a loud BANG. The young woman froze; she was not very familiar with that, but she knew this noise. She immediately ran to the origin of the sound before she stopped in front of her sister's bedroom. Even without opening the door, she knew. She just pulled out her phone and called 911.

#I'm sorry #tw sui implied #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff angst #yelena belova #yelena belova x platonic!reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #sad fanfic

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yelenasgreenvest · 1 year

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Goodbye - Wanda Maximoff x Y/n

Wanda Maximoff was in love with Y/N. They had been dating for a few months, and everything seemed perfect. They laughed, they talked, and they shared their deepest secrets.

But one day, Y/N received some devastating news.

Wanda Maximoff sat nervously in the doctor's office, her hand tightly grasping Y/N's. They had been worried about some symptoms Y/N had been experiencing and had come in for some tests.

The doctor walked in and sat down at his desk, pulling out the test results. "I'm afraid the news isn't good," he said, looking at Y/N. "You have cancer."

Wanda felt her heart drop. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Y/N's eyes filled with tears as they looked at her. "It's going to be okay," Wanda whispered, trying to hold back her own tears.

"We'll fight this together," Wanda said with a determined look on her face. "Whatever it takes, we'll beat this."

Y/N nodded, taking Wanda's hand and holding it tightly. "I know we will," they said with a small smile.

The doctor went on to explain the treatment options, but Wanda could hardly focus on his words. All she could think about was Y/N and how they were going to fight this together. She vowed to be there for them every step of the way, no matter what.

Wanda was devastated. She couldn't imagine her life without Y/N. They had to go through chemotherapy and radiation treatments, and Wanda was there every step of the way.

Wanda sat by Y/N's side as they received their chemotherapy treatment. She held their hand, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall.

"It's going to be okay," Wanda said, trying to sound reassuring.

"I know," Y/N replied, their voice filled with fear and uncertainty. "But it's hard, it hurts."

"I know, my love," Wanda said, leaning in to kiss Y/N's forehead. "But you're strong, you can get through this."

"I don't know if I can do this," Y/N said, their voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, you can," Wanda said firmly. "You have me and I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here with you every step of the way."

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I'll try."

Wanda stayed with Y/N throughout the entire treatment, holding their hand and offering words of encouragement. She knew it was a difficult and painful process, but she was determined to be there for Y/N, to support them and help them through it.

She held Y/N's hand during the treatments, and she was the one who stayed up with them when they were in pain. She was the one who made them laugh when they were feeling down, and she was the one who held them when they cried.

But as the days went by, Y/N's condition worsened. They became weaker and weaker, and Wanda could see the light in their eyes fading. She knew that their time together was running out.

As Y/N's condition worsened, they became weaker and weaker. Wanda could see the light in their eyes fading. She knew that their time together was running out.

Y/N lay in bed, barely able to move. Wanda sat by their side, holding their hand and trying to keep her own emotions in check.

"I'm scared," Y/N whispered, their voice barely audible.

"I know," Wanda said, tears streaming down her face. "But you're not alone. I'm here with you."

"I'm sorry," Y/N said, their voice filled with sadness and regret.

"Don't be sorry," Wanda said, leaning in to kiss their forehead. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You've fought so hard, you've been so brave."

"I love you," Y/N said, their voice barely a whisper.

"I love you too," Wanda said, holding them close. "Forever and always."

As the days went by, Y/N's condition worsened, and Wanda could see that their time together was coming to an end. She stayed by their side, holding their hand and offering words of love and comfort.

Wanda sat by Y/N's bedside, holding their hand as they took their last breath. She knew that they were in a better place, but she couldn't help but feel lost and alone.

"No," Wanda whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Please don't leave me."

But Y/N's chest stopped rising, and the machines monitoring their vital signs flatlined. Wanda felt her heart breaking as the reality of the situation hit her.

She leaned in and kissed Y/N's forehead, tears streaming down her face. "I love you," she whispered. "I'll always love you."

Wanda sat there for a long time, holding Y/N's hand and crying. She was filled with a sense of emptiness and loss that she knew would never go away.

But she also knew that Y/N's love would always be with her, that their memories would always be a part of her. And that thought gave her the strength to carry on.

#wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda vision #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximov #wandavision #wanda maximoff x you #wanda mcu #wanda my beloved #sad fanfic #angst #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff angst #mcu x reader #marvel fic

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moonttaeil · 1 year

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i've been waiting for you;

▶ Pairing: Jaehyun x reader.

▶ Word count: 5k.

▶ one shot; very angsty; talks of violence; talks of domestic violence;if you're not comfortable of the idea of Y/N being abused please do not read; it does not have a very happy ending; im sorry; it has both jaehyun and Y/N pov's; (also jaehyun is not the abuser pls dont be scared)

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, still not looking at me. Something inside of me broke, scratched my organs, and made me bleed. Something inside of me cried out, harder than when receiving blows on my ribs. Something inside of me died the moment I heard his empty voice. I kept silent but he did not say anything else. It was an ending sentence, for me, for him, for what he could’ve been. We both knew, but we were both too scared to say it out loud.

The first time I found myself in front of her the world around me fell. It is blurry, and I hope someday I’m able to make out what my thoughts on that precise moment were, but for now, all I know is her bright red lipstick draws me in like a month to a flame. Oh, what a flame she was.

Her eyes silently called my way and my feet moved, pulled by the inevitable forces, a magnet she held close to her heart, hidden from the outside world, only felt by my hands that itched to touch her skin, burn themselves while trying to hold her near me, burn myself to ashes while trying to conquer something that was way out of my reach.

It was a dark night. Not even the stars had shown up for our meeting. Her smile made up for that, although she was not keen to show it to me. Her lips moved; I heard her voice. I was entranced. I was hypnotized. I was immediately obsessed. Was she aware of how her presence affected me? If she was, she did not show a sign of it, not a flinch, not an intimidating glance.

Somehow her glass was always full. She drank, and the moisture left behind on the edges of her mouth begged me to come closer. The stains on her glass, red, passionate, every second farther from me. I remember I answered her every question, I tried to be gentle, not raising my voice through the loudness of the bar. She seemed to be able to hear my every word, even the whispers that escaped from between my lips without my permission.

I do remember the first time I saw her—I hoped to one day to forget.

I always anticipated her entrance, and sometimes I was left only with broken hopes. She appeared and disappeared from time to time, leaving me wanting more, craving her presence. “I’ve been waiting for you” I would mutter out when she spent more than five days without checking by the bar, our place, our seats secretly reserved for ourselves. She would smile at me, slightly, almost imperceptible to the human eye.

“Careful with waiting too long,” she would say, “some people become ghosts of the past while holding tightly on a dead idea.”

I should’ve listened.

Although we always sat by one another and talked, it had been the fifth time I saw her that I asked her the name that would stick with me for the rest of the years I had left to live. “Y/N,” she said, and I dreamt with her voice repeatedly. She did not ask back, and I felt uncomfortable. I wanted her to know—I needed her to think about it, to put a name on my face, to dream with it. “Jaehyun,” I answered back, trying to remain complete after being broken so many times by her eyes.

She hummed in response. “I know.” I never asked how.

Eventually, she decided to let me into her world. We stumbled out of the bar, her arm was wrapped around mine, trying to steady herself while she laughed at something, anything. Her eyes were shining so bright that night, the stars never dared to appear in her presence again. I couldn’t deny what was obvious, her trap for me had worked, excellently. Brilliantly. Her feet couldn’t walk straight, and in the end, I found a way to keep her on her feet without falling, dangling from my side. She never stopped laughing.

“You drank more than usual tonight,” I commented, with no malice. No second intention. She was happy—disoriented, but happy. I was content to be able to spend time with her. She stopped and looked up at me, the remains of her happiness still written all over her forehead, cheeks, and chin. It was a second later, she sat on the curb, her knees finding their way to her chest.

“Sometimes I feel like…” her voice trailed off, her eyes getting lost somewhere in the dark, in front of her, “like I have a lot of important things to say,” she muttered. I stood beside her, still on my feet, uncomfortable, trying to understand her mind. I realized I was still very far from the world inside of her body. “I know I have important things to say,” she repeated, but she was not talking to me, directly. “I simply…” a sigh, “don’t know what they are, yet.”

“It is hard to translate feelings into words.”

I sat beside her, in silence. My back hurt due to the position; she forced a smile back at me.

“It’s not feelings,” she said, “a long time ago I had those, you know?” her question was not meant to be answered. Not by me. I listened. “Long time ago, when my body was not bruised, when my life was not threatened—when I was actually obsessed with living, with waking up, I was that girl.”

In my eyes, she was still that girl.

She kept quiet, reminiscing about the past. Her memories.

“What happened to her?” I asked. I thought about it for a moment—if she ever was more, more, more than what she was now than what I only knew of her, my heart would not have been able to take it. Her eyes darted to me before moving slowly to look down.

“She…”

No words were needed for her to explain. She was dead, her old self, the young girl that wanted to eat the whole world before it eats her. She was dead, buried under the new Y/N that had risen to protect the corpse, the soul, the passion. “I just wish I could stop missing the old version of me,” she whispered before standing up.

That night she left alone. I could’ve jumped right after her, I could’ve followed, and may be accompanied her back home. Everyone knew the streets were not safe at night, with dark alleys, and hungry eyes. I could’ve offered a helping hand. A conversation back home. But I did not. Instead, I stayed where I had been sitting by her side. Her presence lingered behind me, even when my eyes followed every step of her body leaving me behind.

She did not come back for two weeks.

When I saw her again, there was no trace left of the sour conversation we have had the last time. Instead, she smiled, sat by me, and told me what a stressful day she had had. I listened to her, being back next to her lifting my spiring at last. As usual, I said, “I’ve been waiting for you,” she hummed. “Wouldn’t it be nice if I waited for you too?” she had asked.

I knew that was not possible. She was not obsessed – not anymore, -- with herself, as I was. It was a dangerous thought and feeling. I was playing with fire every time I saw her enter the bar. I was burning my fingers every time I let her smile at me. I was consuming my soul every time we left together, and let her go alone, leaving me behind. I was aware I would end up cremated, somehow, because of her.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” I once asked. We were outside the bar. It was late, as usual. Her eyes looked up at me, surprised. I had been gathering the courage to ask her that question for the last four months, ever since the first time, I saw her. That night she wore a leather jacket, bruises hidden from anyone near her. I knew her answer.

“You know I can’t,” and I knew she couldn’t. She had never explicitly said it out loud, it would damage the little bubble we have both threaded with caution, not overstepping the limits we have imposed for one another. I sighed, defeated one more time. It hurt to know that I’d always be at an arm-length distance from her, inevitably. She sensed the discouragement. She knew she was walking on a thin line; she was scared, and she was scatred. She could lose me the same I could lose her.

I couldn’t be sure who would be losing more.

“I want…” she whispered.

“I know.”

It was a difficult situation for her to be carrying on her shoulders. I knew I was obsessed. She knew I was obsessed. I knew there was someone else in her life. She suffered their presence in her life. I knew I wanted to be with her, to let my fingers meet her body, to kiss her and let her fall asleep on top of my chest. She knew it would be a suicidal attempt to run away with me. “What do you say?” I rushed out, “when you go home late when you arrive drunk, what do you say?”

She contemplated if she should answer or not. Her hands were now secured inside the pockets of her coat. Winter was coming, and we both knew it wouldn’t be long before we had to stop meeting in that bar, due to weather, and maybe other circumstances. “Sometimes I get away with it,” she simply answers, a smile trying to catch my attention while she spoke. “Sometimes I don’t.”

Although the questions were slowly rising inside my throat, and the feeling of rage crept behind my back, I kept my mouth closed shut. I knew—she knew I knew. She wasn’t hiding it, but she wasn’t giving me any details either. Her position was harder than mine, her chances to lose, her chances to win.

“Jaehyun,” and the sound of her voice interpreting my name, it held me captive, and it would hold me captive forever, I knew. Jaehyun. Slowly, her fingers found their way to mine. It was a shy movement, she was breaking our secret agreement, she was trespassing the limits, the boards that held our worlds separated. “I think of you when I’m sad.”

It was a hard feeling to swallow.

“How often?”

“Every night.”

I nodded. I held her hand tightly, I pulled her in. She let herself be pulled. Her feet took a step closer to my body. She did not look up at me.

“I cannot ask you to come with me.”

“No, you can’t,” she whispered.

“I cannot ask you to run away with me.”

“No, you can’t,” her eyes closed softly.

“Where can I find you, if not here?”

She stayed silent.

It had been three nights since I last saw Jaehyun. Every time I met him, I took a step closer to an inevitable ending for me, myself, my body, and my soul. I was aware—but what else could I do? He gave me the slightest hope. When he looked at me, he did not simply look at me. He saw me. He saw past and through me. I felt his eyes rummage through all my memories, which all belonged to me, only to me. But he still entered, he still tried to pick up the broken chaos inside me. He did that, unconsciously.

I felt alive under his gaze. I felt awake when he listened to me. I felt mortal every time I took a step away from him, leaving his body standing still behind me, looking at me. I always fought back my emotions when that moment came around. Don’t look back, keep walking. Don’t look back, keep walking. Don’t—

And I did. I always left, and never asked him to follow.

Then, I was alone. The sound of my steps was the only thing accompanying me, along with my cracking fingers. Walking out of the bubble, the thin edges, the comfort. Walking out of the light. Walking out of the passion—out of Jaehyun. But I knew better than to stop.

I always tried to come up with an excuse, even if it wouldn’t work. Too much work? A night out with friends? Simple walk that took me out of reality. That last one I hoped to come one day true. The lights of the apartment building were almost all out. A cat crossed by me, hurriedly. The beeping sound of the numbers being typed in the little monitor, the display shining light blue. A deep breath after another. Jaehyun. My mind screamed his name. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun.

Almost at my door—our door, what used to be our door, what used to hold so much meaning, now reduced to simple iron in front of me. The key was inside the lock. The lights are out, and then I know it’s imminent.

I could’ve asked for help. But who was I to drag anyone, innocent, inside the hell that was built only for myself? Who was I to doom anyone else besides myself? The same questions repeat after I am inside. Where have you been, why do you come so late? Empty streets are not a suitable place for you—but if you've turned yourself into a whore, then I guess they are. I keep my mouth shut.

He's in the dark. But I can make out the figure of his slouched body on the couch. He is not looking at me. I smell him. The booze. The weed. I turn around to avoid discussion, praying this night I’d be able to get away with it. When my body finally sides my room – our room, where we used to daydream about one day having a family, now reduced to an empty cage – my back is on the door. I hope he does not follow tonight—not tonight.

Jaehyun. Jaehyun.

It had been a lie. I had lied to him. I did not only think of him when I was sad. His name popped into my mind whenever I crossed the threshold of this house.

Knocks on the door. My mind goes blank. I did not hear his steps. He wasn’t drunk. No, not tonight. He was sober, he had power. I wouldn’t get away with it tonight, I say to myself, I communicate silently to Jaehyun. I’m sorry I keep you waiting, I’m sorry I don’t appear, but the bruises will be too noticeable for me to face you like that.

I turn around and open the door.

I don’t go back to the bar for the rest of the week either. I know she won’t be there; Y/N won’t appear. That’s why I always pass by the glossy doors, a quick glance inside before turning my attention to the crowded street in front of me. If I were to be asked how I knew—I wouldn’t be able to explain.

It was cruel. I knew it was cruel to let her go each night we spent a few hours together, I knew it was miserable of me to not run behind her and catch her and keep her safe, but who was I to even consider if she was not safe enough? Maybe I was just a coward whenever it came to the moment to move and act. That’s why I stood still every time she turned around to leave, just watching her, trying to remember every step she takes in the other direction until her figure is completely lost in the shadows of the night.

I knew it was cruel, but I couldn’t make myself overstep the boundaries she had imposed on me.

That Friday I entered my house without going to the bar either. I was met with loneliness. I had created for myself a safe place where I couldn’t be harmed, I have created that space for me, only for me, my nostalgia imprinting every corner of the residence.

I turned the lights on. I took off my shoes. I sat down on the couch. I could hear the neighbor kids laughing through the paper-thin walls. I could smell the dinner that was being made at the restaurant in front of our building. I could keep count of every car passing by my window. I was not focused. I was thinking of her. I was missing her. I was envisioning her in front of me, next to me, on top of me.

I had to close my eyes. Y/N. The name, the smell, the laugh, the touch.

I was losing myself to the delirium of not having her right there—right then. I needed her, I was poisoned by her, and I was addicted to her. Jaehyun, I could almost hear her say my name next to my ear. I opened my eyes, shocked. A thin layer of sweat had formed on my forehead, and neck, and nape. She was there—almost there. She would never be there.

I couldn’t stand there any longer.

I went back to the bar.

It was Friday night and Y/N did not appear.

When I met Jaeyhun again, it was too late. I had taken the decision to flee from that life, away from the darkness that had engulfed me. He was sitting on his – our – usual spot, his back now to the entrance. It confused me because he would always be the one looking ahead to the entrance, waiting for me.

Three weeks had passed since the last time I saw him. Apart from me being too bruised to walk, I was not mentally ready to face him and lie to him. Lie. Lie. Lie. My heart nearly jumped out of my throat when I saw him, the outline of his neck, his wide shoulders. The darkness of his hair, cut perfectly but styled messily. I stopped.

I felt like meeting him for the first time. I felt scared all over again. I felt nervous. I felt nauseous. Jaehyun. His name threatened to escape from my mouth in a form of a sigh. Even when I knew he shouldn’t, even when I had pushed him away from meeting so many times, disappeared, re-appeared, lied. It felt like the first time meeting him, although there was a big difference now.

I made my way toward the table. He did not hear my steps. My hand slowly found its way to his shoulder, and I could feel him tense under my touch. The few times our skin has touched, I have always received the same reaction. His eyes darted down to his glass of wine; he did not look up. I knew why—I felt ashamed. For him, I had spent two hours in front of my mirror trying to conceal any leftover trace of the jealousy that had conquered my home years ago. For him I had painted my lips red; for him, I had practiced my smile and my words; for him, I had cried all my tears before taking a step outside of the house.

I sat down, he did not look up. My heart skipped a beat. I knew it was too late.

“Once I told you I had important things to say,” I said quietly, he nodded in response, “and I know what they are now, although it might be too late.” His breathing was not even, and he was nervous. Another sip. The glass was suddenly empty. He didn’t wait for me to continue before turning around and raising his hand to the waiter, two fingers up, two more glasses coming our way. I was silent until our order came. He drank, and finally, he looked up at me.

“I am sorry I wasted so much time waiting for you,” he spoke quietly, “when I should’ve been looking out for you.”

“That would’ve been the worst situation.”

He took another sip. He hated himself—I hated myself even more, for making him see me like this, how I really am, what I really am. The misery I’ve felt for the last four years crept onto my neck, my hair, my head.

“I’ve been trapped—I am, still,” I said. He nodded in response. “Trapped in my own life, and even if I wanted, I wouldn’t be able to reach you, let you take me away with you.” He nodded again. His head hung low. “I am ashamed of myself, Jaehyun.”

It wasn’t explicit. He didn’t need explicit. I had left one bruise on my forearm without concealing it. I have left it for him to see, the surface of the situation. “You shouldn’t.” He said back. I knew—but I couldn’t afford to not be ashamed, not now that I am what I have always feared.

“Wherever I looked, I always saw you. On each surface, on each ad. Women passed by me on the street and my brain tricked me every time into believing it was you.” He held his breath and so did I.

I wanted to apologize again. Bring me down to my knees, bow my head low for him.

“It’s not your fault.”

His words took me out of my imagination. Reality shocked me to the core. It’s not your fault. His words repeated over and over again inside my brain, burning deep down, burning into ashes. But it is, I wanted to scream. It is. It is. His eyes never left mine. My mouth never opened. Not a single sound. “It’s not your fault, Y/N.” He spoke.

“You don’t know—”

“I don’t need to.”

I finished the alcohol in my glass. He didn’t know. He shouldn’t know. He was good—Jaehyun was not him. Jaehyun was not mad, he was never mad. Jaehyun would understand if she left. Jaeyhun always understood when she disappeared. “I’ve come here tonight to…” I repeated the sentence I had running inside my mind for the past three weeks, “to say goodbye.”

He was silent and suddenly the noise that filled the bar that we were so used to being in vanished. It was him and me. Me and him. His eyes were on my lips. My tears were in his hands. He was there, finally—I have wished for him for years. I have dreamt with him, for him. I have fought for him, because of him. I have made stupid things; I have dug my own grave.

“You don't want to.”

He was hurt when he said that. His voice broke. I broke.

“You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you want to say goodbye?” he laughed, out of sadness. I couldn’t bare to look at him anymore. Because he was right, I didn’t want to—but I didn’t want to live scared, scarred, for the rest of my life either. I didn’t want to bring him down with me, down the spiral of self-destruction I have created. I didn’t want to snatch away from him the years he had left to find happiness for himself.

I have burnt all the bullets. He has the gun still loaded.

Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t be on the same page.

“I’m sorry.”

“No—you’re not,” he whispered. He was not mad. He spoke his mind. His words were harsh. But still, there wasn’t a hint of him being mad.

Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun.

Mind screamed for my hands to reach out to him. Let him hold me. Let him take all the pain away. Please, Jaehyun.

“I am,” I said back.

“You don’t have anything to apologize… at least to me. But…” he stopped. “If there is someone you ought to apologize to, is yourself.”

I stopped breathing. The tears burnt inside my eyes. I had to close them, cage them. But the more I insisted, the more they burnt, the fire spreading down my throat and reaching my lungs, imprisoning the air. It was hard to breathe.

“Y/N,” he was demanding, he was begging. “Y/N.” It hurt, listening to my own name slip was his lips. “Where is that girl you talked about? The one obsessed with life—with the passion that came with being alive?” he questioned me, it hurt. “Where is that girl that you talked about? Find her, Y/N.” His words stabbed me. It was impossible—

“Find her, Y/N, before you let yourself die,” and with each word, his knuckles turned whiter, his fist on top of the table, “before you apologize to me from your grave, for leaving me, again. Find her.”

I wanted to speak back. I wanted to tell him that she was no longer here. I wanted to—I couldn’t. Jaehyun. His eyes burnt holes in my face, I felt as if I was disintegrating. I knew I loved him—Jaehyun. I knew before I came tonight, that it was too late to love him. He, as well, had gathered hate.

“Jaehyun.”

And a tear slipped down his cheek as well. It glistened under the dim lights of the bar. We were still surrounded by people, but it was us. Only us. Only our memories together, only the minutes we have shared, only the seconds we have left.

That was the last time I saw her before years rushed by trying to bury her face in the depths of my memory. She was right, she came to say goodbye. She left. She disappeared. She did not come back, not to me at least.

How many years have passed since I burned my last shot with her? Maybe ten, maybe fifteen. Every day I went to the bar. Every day I sat and waited, lonely, surrounded by my nostalgia, silently crying while drowning in many, many, glasses filled to the rim with the disgusting liquor that somehow managed to blur her face from my memory.

Although it hurt to lose her completely, I managed to stand up again. I picked up the pieces, held them together, and I glued them to one another even if they didn’t fit. I refused to be held to my knees for her — for the girl whom I have never really met, for her ghost. I left the bar one day and I didn’t come back. I turned my back to the place, to her, to our memories, and to myself. I moved. I disappeared. I followed her steps, never knowing where the road led. I tried to not rot, I tried to make myself a great man. I survived, without her, without the part of me that she held forever.

And I did. It consumed me, just as I have predetermined she would do even before meeting her for the last time. Because I knew— there was no one else to blame but myself. That last time I saw her I held her in my arm, and let myself indulge in that little moment we had created for ourselves, the last moment we would share together. I remember her scent. I remember her hands holding tight to my arms, her fingers trembling. She did not want to let me go, and yet she did. She did not want to draw me to her madness, and yet she did. She did not want to hurt me, and yet, she killed a part of me that would never revive.

And, although all that happened, I managed to get up from my knees.

I couldn’t hold myself hostage in the past while grasping onto the thin threat that held the idea of her coming back to me.

I also let her go.

The years have passed and I sigh as I make my way to the kindergarten where my children await for me to pick them up. I walk slowly, thinking about all the tasks we have for today. I think about my wife, such a lovely girl, such a respectful woman, and such a responsible mother. I think about her, and my heart aches. Because I love her— I do love her. But I am not obsessed with her, with her existence, her passion. She has never had her lips painted deep red. She has never had me waiting for her, she was always early. She never kept her mysteries to herself, she shared her life with me.

I loved her and yet— I don’t.

I pass by a bookshop. The path I take every afternoon is the same. I’ve been to that bookshop many times before. I’ve shopped there, and I’ve spent evenings with my kids looking for the right book for nighttime. And yet I stop, my feet suddenly forget how to move. Because she was there— her face was there. Her eyes were there. Her red lips were on the cover. It was both improbable and impossible. I had given up on the idea to see her again years ago. She looked at me, right at me. Her picture draws me in. I stepped inside the bookshop.

Without giving it a second thought I pick up the books.

It’s not your fault, it’s the title. She’s holding onto a glass of wine, and I recognize the surroundings of the photo. The dim lights and the chairs were where they used to spend every night when they saw each other. She was in their reserved seats. The entrance was behind her. It felt like I have been the one taking the photo.

Years have passed, and they left a mark behind. She had wrinkles, she was thinner, and her cheekbones were way prominent now. Her bare shoulders showed in the photo, and more than one scar was recognizable. Time was not kind to everyone but to her— time did not exist. She glowed, she still had the magnet that pulled me in. I held the book and my mind drifted back in time to when I would wait for her, for hours, for days, and for weeks.

“Jaehyun?” The voice of the lady who works there takes me out of the trance, the little bubble that appeared again after so many years of living like a mortal. I turn to look at her, stunned, pale probably. She smiles and nods towards the stack of books with her face on them. With Y/N smiling at me. “It’s the new best-seller, a biography by a survivor of domestic violence,” she explains, “but I don’t think Mariko will like that kind of book.” She’s talking about my wife. She believes I want to buy that book for my wife. Oh, how naïve she actually was.

“Thank you,” I mumble and turn around to look at the book between my hands again.

Slowly I open the first page.

I’ve been waiting for you, J. I want you to know that it is not your fault I left.

#jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun nct #jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenario #nct one shot #nct angst #strangers to loves trope #jaehyun!nct #jaehyun!angst #loves to strangers #sad fanfic #nct scenario #nct oneshot #mine

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bruh-myguy-what · 1 year

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Things That Can’t Be Undone

I’m obsessed with Thrawn having overwhelming emotions and either people not noticing it because he’s so good at hiding it, or him just not knowing how to react to them….so, in lieu of that…

Have sad Thrawn, because I want to explore all range of emotions with him.

We could always use a new story in the Thrawn fics anyway

I also HIGH KEY didn’t proofread this lol sooooooo

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Pairing: Thrawn x fem!reader

Warnings: heartbreak, sadness, regret, longing/pining

Summary: Thrawn sees you with another man and it hurts.

Word Count: 1.2K

***

It wouldn’t have been the first thing Thrawn thought he would’ve felt when his heart burned painfully against his chest at the sight before him. There was an accompanying knot in his stomach while he watched you from across the room, his eyes tracking every small detail of you so he could account every moment to his memory. That way when he was aboard the Chimera, so far away from you, deep in the galaxy traveling the stars alone (alongside his crew) he could close his eyes and remember your smile as if it were made solely for him instead of the man it was directed at now.

He felt almost irrational for envisioning what it would be like to be the man beside you, your arms encircling his arm instead. The way your eyes would sparkle when you’d gaze longingly up at him, so unapologetic of the adoration you’d be announcing silently to the rest of the world. The simple thought that everyone around would see how clearly enraptured you were with him would fill him with such pleasure, to have the most captivating person in all the universe sharing such a flawless sentiment between the two of you. To see and hear the people around you whisper words of envy or idolization of the affection shared between the two of you.

Thrawn was certain at this point that there was nothing he wouldn’t give up, to have you smiling at him again, the smile that was nearly devastating. It had made his heart ache before to see it so honestly made for him, but it hurt for a different reason now…it was a pain he couldn’t change- no matter how much he wished he could. He was a Grand Admiral, but his title meant nothing to you, for your affection never came at the fancies of rank.

He momentarily wondered if the man with you knew all the small things Thrawn had found to be so personable about you? Was he aware of the splendor within you, or just the perfect art that lay bare for others to see? Did he truly know how priceless it was to be able to hear your brilliant, infectious laugh? What about how your eyes gleamed in wonder when you saw the stars so close as you traveled space aboard the Chimera? The way you so freely gave your attention to whoever needed it, so quick to assist, listen, give advice, or just make someone feel less lonesome by giving your time silently. Was the man you were giving your time to truly understanding of how precious you were? Could he really appreciate the way your hand fit within his? Did it even fit the way it did with Thrawn? And how fortunate did the man genuinely feel when you hugged him, so earnest and emotionally available? So ready to catch him if he ever fell…

Did he value you any better than Thrawn did when he had you at his side? Did the senator you were with realize what a gift you were….or did he take it for granted like Thrawn had? It was a dreadful feeling to know that if he had been any more aware of the things he could’ve done correctly, he wouldn’t be yearning so painfully for you from this far away- from galaxies away on the ISD Chimera. Thrawn wished he could feel the gentle caress of your hand again, just once, even if for a second. To know the feeling of being the only person you shared your intimate moments. Did the senator you held so tightly to know how to comfort you when you cried? Had Thrawn?

Perhaps there were a few things he did correctly at the time?

He knew he was giving himself too much credit. Had you seen any hope in him being able to give you what you needed from him, he wouldn’t be seeing your beauty from the other side of the room. Thrawn recalled the crestfallen expression that fell over your freely expressive features as he told you to stay here in Coruscant, to stay away from the Chimera from now on. At the time he believed it to be for the best, to give you the opportunities you truly sought. How could he keep your abilities and magnificence from the world and seal you away aboard the Chimera just out of his own indulgence?

But that was his misunderstanding…

He had pushed you away, leaving you alone on a planet you knew nothing about. What he thought was best for you…wasn’t what you wanted at all. What he thought you were hiding from him wasn’t even your true desire and he saw that now. You sought someone to share life with, to trust when you didn’t want to be the strong one anymore- when it felt like the whole world would cave in. The person you could run to when you were unhappy, when something humorous happened, someone you could share your whimsical excitements with. You had entrusted that opportunity to Thrawn, and he misunderstood, he miscalculated it so dreadfully and it was too late to undo it.

You’d found another to give those luxuries to. Thrawn could only hope the man never took your heart for granted, or thought he knew what was best for you- even over what you wanted- like Thrawn had.

“Sir?” Eli Vanto’s voice had startled the Chiss out of his revere, jumping slightly at the man’s soft voice beside him. Blinking away the memories, the sadness, the regret, the Grand Admiral glanced at his subordinate. Eli could see a peculiar change in his friend, and it troubled him, “are…are you alright?” His voice cautious. When he’d approached Thrawn, he’d noticed the man in thought as he stared off. His eyes following the line of his admiral’s gaze, he found you standing there with your date, and it all made sense.

“Y-yes, of course,” Thrawn replied, scarcely convincing Eli, or himself, “forgive me, Commander.” There was silence between the two for a moment as they evaded mentioning Thrawn’s odd behavior.

Finally, Eli spoke up, resolutely, “are you ready to go, sir?” He straightened up and with an understanding expression, he awaited his admiral’s command. Perhaps what his friend needed was normalcy and structure to reshape his mind back to its normal methodical state. Eli would do whatever he could to help because if no one else could, he could see the struggle Thrawn was experiencing.

Sending one last look over at you, wondering- for just a second- if there was anything he could do to change his unfortunate fate. But as he watched the affectionate kiss you shared with the senator; he recognized it was indeed too late to change any of his hopeless choices. “Yes,” he agreed just as resolutely, even if a little forlorn, then met Eli’s eyes fully this time. “Let us return to the Chimera, commander.”

At least you would still be his in his dreams.

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