#and some songs hit me so hard that I'm still shaken up i think

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 45

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2551

Warnings: Mention of near-death, mild swearing

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: None

Chapter Songs: End Game I Could Use A Love Song

****

Ghost

Maverick and Penny had set up the living room as a temporary bedroom for whoever ended up using it, which turned out to be Ghost, although Rooster did argue with her about it for a good half hour until she convinced him that it hurt much less for her to get up from a recliner than from a bed since it didn't require her to use her abdomen muscles as much. Afterward, Rooster retired to his room without another word, and had Ghost not been so exhausted herself, she would've questioned his silence more.

However, she needed to get some rest before dinner that night. Ghost figured the Daggers, Hollywood, and Wolfman would hound her, Maverick, Rooster, and Hangman with questions about the mission. There was only so much they could tell, but the others would get as much out of the aviators as they could. 

An hour before the dinner, Ghost roused herself and shuffled to the bathroom to try and do something with her hair and makeup. To her surprise, the latter went smoothly, but curling her hair turned out to be more difficult. For twenty minutes, she struggled to wrap her hair around the wand and was about to give up when Penny passed by and noticed. Stopping outside the bathroom and leaning against the door frame, she asked, "Need help?"

Ghost smiled sheepishly. "What gave it away?"

Penny moved in and took the curling wand from the female pilot. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," she lied, keeping her expression relaxed and neutral. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good; glad to see you alive. Pete told me what happened. Have you talked to him much since you returned from the mission?"

"Most I talked to him was after I woke up. He and Rooster have both been really quiet around me." Ghost dropped her gaze from Penny to stare at the hem of her skirt. "Are they doing okay?"

"I'm not sure about Rooster. That might be something you need to bring up with him. As for Pete-" Penny lowered her voice- "don't tell him I said this, but he's still shaken from what happened. He's used to being near death, not others, especially those close to him."

"I'm not surprised. It's only been a few months since Ice's death, and he nearly lost Rooster twice. I'm sure that's hard for him to fathom."

"It wasn't just Rooster that scared him," Penny said, finishing the last curl. She set the iron on the counter and gently clasped Ghost's shoulders. "He almost lost you too. You mean more to him than you realize."

"Maybe, but Rooster's still his son. Speaking of him, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What year did my mom meet Maverick?"

Penny tilted her head, confused by the seemingly random question. "Uh, eighty-six, I think. Yeah, eighty-six because that's when Goose passed. Why?"

"I, uh, I found out my mom lied to me about when she and Maverick met. I don't know why, and the only reason I can come up with is far-fetched. I probably hit my head a little too hard and-"

"What's your reason?"

Ghost opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself before the first syllable sounded. Did she want to burden Penny with this? She already had a daughter of her own. If Maverick truly was Ghost's father, would Penny want another one? Would Maverick want a daughter?

"Annalise? What is it?"

Oh, God. How do I explain this? "I th-"

The doorbell rang, interrupting the conversation and giving Ghost the opportunity to switch topics. She said, "Looks like someone's early." I'm okay from here. I can finish the rest up."

Penny nodded slightly, recognizing Ghost's desire to stay quiet about her 'reason.' "All right. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Smiling at the pilot, Penny disappeared, and Ghost sighed, staring at her banged-up reflection in the mirror. Her makeup mostly covered the scrapes and bruises on her face, but it couldn't hide the glaringly obvious: her lack of resemblance to Nathan Winchester. The more she studied her features, the more Ghost noticed that she didn't share his thin lips or giant ears; she didn't have his chocolate hair or eyes; she didn't have his wide nose or square jawline; Ghost didn't even have his personality or lanky build. 

She had her mom's hair and eyes, and she had Maverick's face shape and muscular build. Hell, she even had his flying style, one she'd always had before she ever saw how he flew. That couldn't be a coincidence...

"Ghost? You good?" Hangman appeared in the doorway, his green eyes piercing hers. 

She sighed. "It's... complicated. Tell you later?"

"Of course." Hangman offered his arm for her; she graciously took it. The pair strolled into the kitchen, where Phoenix and Rooster sat at the bar, although the former relinquished her seat for Ghost and moved to help Penny. Hangman joined her, and Ghost couldn't help but notice her best friend sticking close to the female aviator's side. Phoenix didn't seem to mind, either.

Smiling to herself, Ghost turned her attention to Rooster and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Without looking at her and keeping his eyes trained on Penny and Maverick's movements around the kitchen, he replied, "Not bad. You?"

"Pain's not terrible right now," she admitted quietly, "although that's probably the pain medication."

"Yeah, it's been a lifesaver for me too. Probably the only reason I'm up for this."

"Rather be sleeping?"

"Or at least in a more comfortable seat," Rooster said, wincing as he shifted in the bar stool.

"Why don't we move to the living room? I think the others would understand," Ghost suggested, sliding off of her own seat. Without a word, Rooster did the same, nor did he look at her. She tried not to read into that too much, convincing herself his unusually quiet demeanor was due to his pain. Telling the group where she and Rooster would be and why, Ghost led the way to the living room. She sat on one end of the couch, and, to her surprise, Rooster sat on the other, as far away as possible from her. That stung. However, when he stretched his injured leg out onto the cushions, Ghost chastised herself for assuming he didn't sit next to her because of her. 

He's in pain. He's not avoiding you even if he isn't making eye contact with you. He wouldn't be in here with you if he was avoiding you. Ghost took a steadying breath, wondering if her concussion made her overanalyze the littlest things, making a mountain out of a molehill. Forcing her attention to the TV, she tried to watch the antics of the Friends cast. Instead, she found herself periodically dozing, and each time she swiftly woke up in a panic due to her dreams being plagued by crashes, ejections, and death.

By the time the rest of the Daggers arrived, Ghost had quietly worked herself into a panic over both the dreams and Rooster's behavior toward her. Had the others not been around, she might've burst into tears. 

At seven, Penny announced dinner was ready, Ghost tried to sit next to Maverick, but Coyote and Phoenix flanked him before she could maneuver fast enough over to him. Deciding she didn't want to walk any further, she sank into the closest chair. Hangman sat on one side of her, which didn't surprise Ghost, and she was grateful for his supportive presence. They shared a smile, and he reached over to squeeze her hand as if he could sense her anxiety and was trying to tell her: it's okay. You're okay.

Rooster hobbled behind her and plopped into the vacant seat on her other side. That did surprise her. He would barely speak to her or look at her. So why would he want to sit next to her? Why were men so fucking complicated sometimes?

"Okay, you have got to give us more details on what happened," Fanboy said once everyone settled into their seats, nearly vibrating from eagerness.

"It started when I tried to cut off an enemy plane from shooting Rooster, they sped up, and I sliced through their plane," Ghost explained, cringing at the memory. "I barely ejected in time before I blacked out."

"We thought it was the last enemy, but another popped up before I could even comprehend everything going on, and it shot me down," Rooster added, shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Thought she'd died at first, then caught a glimpse of a parachute in the woods and rushed over to find her somehow still alive."

"Can't kill a ghost a second time," Hangman joked lightly, winking at her. 

Rooster ignored him and continued, "She was not happy to see me. Whacked me so hard on the shoulder that she knocked me over!"

"I didn't think we'd find a way to escape or get back to the carrier!" Ghost protested indignantly. 

Rooster patted her leg, shocking her into silence by his sheer touch. Ghost bit her lip. So he won't look at me or talk to me unless forced, but he'll willingly touch me without hesitation? What the hell is going on here? Or am I reading too much into this? Can overanalyzing be a side effect of a concussion? I should look it up when-

"So we infiltrate the enemy base, strutting into it like we owned the damn place," Rooster said, interrupting her train of thought. His hand remained on her leg. "We hid in a closet to devise a game plan of how we would commandeer a plane when two enemies discovered us. I thought we were dead."

Phoenix waved her fork at them. "Obviously, you're not, so how did you get out of it?"

"Ghost, in perfect and fluent Russian, starts talking to these guys and convinces them to leave us alone. They would've shut the door behind them had the alarms not gone off because of Mav and Hangman attacking. That gave us the distraction to take a plane without being questioned. Ghost essentially ripped a pilot off a ladder and barked angrily at him- in Russian- and he listened. We took off, nearly got shot down by one of these guys-" Rooster wagged his finger at Maverick and Hangman- "and if not for Ghost's impeccable timing and incredible skill, we would've been skewered by a missile."

"Sorry about that," Maverick apologized sheepishly. 

"You know what, I'm wearing that feat with a badge of honor," Ghost declared, seeing the guilt in his eyes. "I escaped being shot down by the best pilot in the Navy."

"Yeah, but then I nearly killed you with my jetwash."

Ghost shook her head. "I told you. I shouldn't have been engaging that enemy fighter in my state."

"What do you mean 'in your state'?" Bob asked, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

"Well, at that point in time, the doctors believed I had at least a few broken ribs, a small puncture in my lung, a slightly fractured wrist, and a mild concussion, and Rooster had a broken leg, which how he was walking on that, I don't know. But the G-forces exacerbated all our injuries, I flew through Mav's jetwash accidentally, went into a flat spin, we had to eject, and, well, our injuries got worse."

"By worse-" Hangman began, staring pointedly at her- "she means that Rooster's leg shattered and had a badly compressed spine along with a concussion, and she punctured her lung so badly that she needed surgery to fix it and fucking coded during said surgery."

From her peripheral, Ghost saw Rooster's head snap in her direction. For the first time since they arrived at Maverick's, he chose to look at her, but she couldn't meet his gaze. His grip tightened on her leg. "You didn't tell me that."

Ghost shrugged. "Didn't see the point. I'm here, aren't I? Anyway-" she offered a smile to the group and motioned at herself and Rooster- "that's how we ended up like this."

Payback whistled. "Damn."

"Hey, say something in Russian!" Omaha insisted, leaning forward eagerly. 

Ghost smirked. "Никто не пропустит призрака."

The Daggers, Maverick, Penny, and Amelia stared blankly at her with wide eyes, evidently having absolutely, unequivocally no idea what she said. Hollywood smiled and replied, "Мы будем скучать по тебе."

Every head, except for Ghost and Wolfman's, turned in his direction in utter disbelief. It was Maverick who inquired, "You too?!"

"You're not the only one with special skills, Mitchell," Hollywood said with a grin. "While you were off doing black ops, I was learning Russian."

Maverick turned to Wolfman, wholly unaware of how threatening he looked while pointing at his friend with his knife and asking, "You knew about this?"

"Of course. What kind of RIO would I be if I didn't? To make up for it, I'll let you in on another secret." Wolfman peered down the table at Ghost and beamed impishly. "Так когда же Петух уберёт руку с твоей ноги?"

Hollywood, who had been taking a sip of his drink, choked on it. Ghost flipped Wolfman off, but the smile on her face took out the venom of the gesture. Meanwhile, Maverick's mouth fell slightly open.

"What are you guys saying?" Yale insisted. 

"I said no one will miss a ghost, Hollywood said y'all would miss me, and Wolfman is just being rude," Ghost explained, fibbing with that last one. The truth is that Wolfman asked: So when is Rooster going to remove his hand from your leg? She'd be facing that interrogation between those two if they caught her alone tonight, although the chances of that were slim since she'd probably pass out the moment she sat on the couch. 

The remainder of the dinner consisted of many more laughs and conversations, and on more than one occasion, Ghost, Hollywood, and Wolfman conversed in Russian just to annoy the others. At one point, they pretended to be talking about each person of the group, pointedly looking at them to make them uncomfortable, when, in reality, they were talking about when Hollywood and Wolfman would be returning home. They finally stopped when Wolf tried to broach the subject of Rooster, and Ghost shut down. The men mercifully didn't push on it. 

Rooster stayed relatively quiet throughout dinner after learning Ghost temporarily died. He only removed his hand when he chose to eat, but even then, Rooster picked at his food, and while he laughed and smiled with the rest, Ghost could see his heart wasn't in it, that he took cues from the others.

Once everyone finished their meals, the group migrated to the living room. Rooster and Ghost were given the couch, but Hangman ensured he sat on her other side. Ghost tried to stay awake, but between the food coma threatening to take over and her remaining exhaustion from the endeavors of the past few months, she couldn't help her heavy eyelids from falling shut. In the haze of her half-consciousness, Ghost felt a hand- Rooster's, judging from the direction it came- rest on her wrist, his fingers directly above her pulse point. Sleep fully overcame her before Ghost could think any more of it.

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina87 @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons @harper1666 @shadeops21 @double-j @copaceticwriter @rotating-obsessions @sharkprestige @thedarkinmansfield @lapilark @mickeyluvs @starshipfantasy @bennypears00 @avabobava @the-navistar-carol @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @carmellasworld @0hb0llocks @nicangelinee @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag19 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagafafa @callmemana @sec17 @brxklyn15 @h0ppy0the0sheep @tomanybandstolove @abigailannz @mini-bee-bee @super-btstrash-posts

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32 Chp 33 Chp 34 Chp 35 Chp 36 Chp 37 Chp 38 Chp 39 Chp 40 Chp 41 Chp 42 Chp 43 Chp 44 Chp 45

#top gun #top gun maverick #fanfiction #fanfic #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #tg #maverick #rooster #hangman #phoenix #bob #coyote #fanboy #payback #halo #fritz #omaha #harvard #yale #charlie #ghost #ghost story #winchester #bradley bradshaw #top gun 2 #iceman #penny #penny benjamin #grief

[misfit-among-the-angels]

Early morning aka time for me to overthink shit

#i think i was really affected by doing this binge of three Avantasia albums and then realized that i can relate to them just as much #i mean don't get me wrong i kinda can relate to ALL Avantasia albums but some hit harder than the rest #like before The Scarecrow was that one then Ghostlights appeared and finally Moonglow #but now i listened to The Wicked Trilogy and boyyyyyyyy so many songs have a new meaning to me #and some songs hit me so hard that I'm still shaken up i think #like i literally don't know how to feel or what to feel #Damnn it Tobi #lol this should be a tag on its own 😂😂😂 #srsly i might sound childish or silly/stupid but this only makes me feel that Tobi is indeed my soul mate of sorts #*big sigh* #personal

[voidcat]

– poppies by the sea (and a cup of tea)

characters: oikawa tooru, you

genre: hurt/comfort + slice of life – wc: 3.8k

songs: Спокойная ночь by Kino & I'm So Tired by Fugazi

a/n: she doesn't use tumblr anymore but if i were to dedicate this to anyone, that'd be linette (and nicole, but that's p much a given at this point)

One step, another and another.

Without looking around, you know where you are, wishing you didn’t.

Looking left and right, checking in case any familiar face is around, you sink to the ground, regret already filling your ears.

And with the overgrowing pool of bad ideas as of late, you cannot seem to give a damn.

It’s late but not too late. You weight the options and decide against any.

What you need is to gather yourself together, gather your thoughts and take a deep breath, then get up and walk away, away, back to the cold comfort of your bed.

The train leaves before you can catch a glimpse, head once in your hands, now sliding, you doze off far far away and forget you’re ever there, lost somewhere in space.

You snap back with a shake, or a nudge on your shoulder. Mind still too closed to tell which it is.

It feels different, like a shadow over your vision, the air lying on your skin harsher.

Then the shadow begins to move…

Note to self to never zone out in open public again.

As this note passes by your eyes, he shuffles on his feet, possibly waiting for an explanation or at least a little bit of your attention on him. So you look up, he scrunches his nose in reply– the same stern look, cold eyes and disapproving face you see all too often.

A minute passes.

Or maybe it’s a second or five, you’re not sure.

You haven’t been good with time, not before and certainly not now. Letting out a breath, hands hanging from both sides you slowly begin to get up.

Once your mouth open, your words sound quieter than you’d like, and slower too. You must’ve slept for a while.

“Look, if you’re wondering why I’m sitting by your door, at god knows what o’clock, never mind, just forge-“

“All I care about is you moving your ass right now.” He says, rudely interrupts would be more fitting to describe the scene, the constant urge to roll your eyes whenever he is around taps on your shoulder as always, and this time you don’t fight back.

He only looks more annoyed now.

“You’re blocking the door.”

Oh, right…

Why couldn’t you think of this sooner?, you smack your head internally. Then alternatively, the ground cracking open and swallowing you doesn’t seem like a bad option either. And on the plus side, depending on your luck, he would fall right off after you-

The sound of something metallic hitting against one another is the one to cut through your thoughts this time.

The keys clink to one another, dance in the air for a while and do not struggle in the little creak, get in and turn without a trouble, get out without a break. Even his door opens as smoothly as him.

This, only makes it worse.

“Yes, ‘oh’, so if you have nothing else to say, I’d like to rest.” Oikawa Tooru states quick and curt, as he steps in.

And you cannot help but worry, again, even though it’s stupid and there’s no logical reason for you to get upset over his attitude, because really… Isn’t this how the two of you go back and forth almost daily? Isn’t it given? The norm?

Except for some nights, comes that whisper again, and you want to argue back: ‘Weren’t you the one who told me this was a bad idea from the start?’

The jingling noise of the keys snap you out of your head again and you find Oikawa still standing at the edge of the door, waiting.

He must’ve shaken the keys to get your attention back, (like a stray animal on the street.

Isn’t this all you are essentially? Nothing more, nothing less… just an unwanted castaway by the streets, thrown few pitying looks and a dry bone-

You push the thought away, as hard as you can.)

Oikawa still waits patiently, despite his tense body, the loud tapping of his foot. For you to say something, you realize and you shake your head. Because this was a stupid idea from the very beginning.

But your brain disagrees; as Oikawa can tell from a single look at you that you’ve been doing it again, arguing with yourself.

Just as you make a turn to leave, you feel your muscles move and speak: Can I come in?

But his body acts before yours and already makes way, not a comfortable enough space, for you.

This is, albeit, not the first time you’ve seen Oikawa in a different light but the moments are few and rare, it doesn’t require more than one hand to count all of them.

The first time was an awfully shitty, dim and almost orange-ish light, to the point of hurting your eyes.

Maybe it’s yellow, you don’t recall well but the plaster on the walls make it seem like those of a pumpkin.

Few rare nights where you forget how Oikawa is like in the day time, how the two of you are like. You decide, you’ve grown to like this Oikawa more.

He feelsdifferent, his silence comes different.

Even the way he still has everyone in the room’s attention on him, many more or less ready to be at his feet on a single command, mesmerized by his sole presence…

And still, it’s not like how it feels when the sun is up. The self stuck up behavior you’re so used to seeing is gone, no cocky smiles, no pride in his eyes, the glint is his eyes now empty. No sun to burn your skin, no cold to bite your skin, just a gentle, soft light, slipping through the creaks of leaves lazily dancing in the wind.

It feels alien.

Yet you feel closer to this version of him, even if it doesn’t exist often.

Hearing the keys jiggling against one another, you’re back again. No doubt you dozed off, not even for just a bare minute this time. More like time pauses and a film goes through your eyes as if you’re watching a show, seeing a flashback scene to clear things out.

Oh how you wish that’s how it was; easy and clean.

But reality is cruel and things are clear. So you have to blindly swim in the dirty water or like a fish writhe in a poodle, desperate for some water.

Standing at the entrance, you wait.

He comes back soon after, clothes changed, a glass of water in his hand, tilting his head slightly and walks to the couch.

So you follow.

It doesn’t feel as foreign to be alone with him under proper lights, on a nice couch that smells nice. But considering how they are both places strangers to you, it’s no surprise.

Water left untouched, Oikawa’s gaze is on you but neither makes a move. Not a single car passes by, no sound can be heard from outside, it’s too quiet, compared to the places you’ve been at the same as him. It feels eerie.

Making your own noise sounds better in your head, so you focus on your breathing, on his, the tapping of your fingers against your leg, the shuffling of his shirt at his every move…

“Listen…” you take a breath. “I didn’t mean to, you know, barge in.” Breathe out. It goes unnoticed by you, the tapping of fingers, and instead your hands roam free, desperate to fill in the gaps between each sound you’re making. “I don’t… don’t even know how I got here frankly and-“

“You don’t have to apologize.” Jerk, you think, who said anything about an apology?

“I had to come here with you once, I guess you weren’t as black out as I assumed that night.”

What you meant to say long forgotten, you find yourself on alert and confused. “How come?”

“I drove you to your place?” It sounds more like a question than a statement, is he checking to see if you remember?

“Why would you do that?” your words, your voice sound foreign to you.

Not just foreign, but harsh, untrusting, unaccepting, because why, why, why would Oikawa fucking Tooru of all people help out when you don’t even offer the other a greeting in the mornings? Why go that length when the two of you act the other doesn’t even deserve to be spared a glance?

He just shrugs, “Why wouldn’t I?”.

This doesn’t answer a single damn thing at all.

Your fingers intervened, eyes somewhere on the edge of the glass, you go back to the silence moments ago. It doesn’t feel as quiet now, as sound filled the air once, as your thoughts start to get loud in unspeakable manner, words in a language that never existed.

He seems as lost, not as deep in as you maybe, but still lost, just better at concealing with a smile.

“So what brings you here?”

You hear but do not grasp, it sounds too far away. Ears and throat filled, lungs numb and limbs cold, every sound is behind a veil, except for the beating of your hear echoing in your ears, in a last attempt, the pressure driving you mad.

“Hey.” He reaches again, this time placing a hand on your shoulder, barely touching but enough to pull you out. Just like feeling the sun on your skin for the first time in a long while, eyes sting and your skin itches, the wind feels too cold and a shiver goes down. But your body relaxes, lungs still intact, the pressure disappearing with each beat.

“Are you okay?”

Head shaking and arms around you, you don’t register. It always felt like this, it always feels like this, drowning and gasping for air, desperate to hold on to something but everything slips away and in a final attempt, limbs grow tired, your body exhausted.

“That’s the million dollar question.” You don’t hear yourself say.

The weight on the couch shifts. “Do you want something else?” you barely hear him say.

There’s no taste of salt to dry your insides, feeling refreshed for the first time in a while, you can open your eyes without a much trouble.

Then he moves, to the edge then up, walking away.

‘Everyone walks away’ is probably what that voice is preparing to say.

“If you want to talk, do so.” His voice reaches from the back. The kitchen, you assume.

“If it’s more of a ‘talk to the void’ or ‘write things down and burn the paper afterwards’ kind of thing you are seeking, I’m just making tea and won’t be hearing anything.”

With a nod you’re not even certain you’ve made, you stay still, as always, head everywhere at once, feeling unwelcome, unbelonging, sticking out, blending in to the point of erasure.

You let the sound of clattered cups, the teapot and water fill your ears.

Anything to drown out your own mind.

“This is stupid.” Your mouth mutters.

“I should leave.” The words leave your lips with the image of a red album with lions on cover before your eyes.

“It just-“ something in your throat, you feel like choking on your words.

“There is no point in feeling like this.” Ding, ding, ding- The first truth of tonight.

It feels pathetic to long for something you’ve never had at all.

Longing for something, missing something- don’t they all require a recognition to begin with?

The image of red poppies swarm your vision again.

The scent of salty water, the sound of waves in the background.

It is windy again, you are only fourteen. There are many things trapped inside you that you haven’t named, haven’t noticed. For a little longer you can keep on living like this, without needing to actively pretend.

You are fourteen again and it’s summer. It has been rainy the past few days and the temperature doesn’t make you itch.

The fresh scent of the sea is calming as your senses adjust to it. The ever going sound of the waves against the rocks, washing against the sand are gentle, like a lullaby. All the steps taken, yours and theirs combined doesn’t bother you.

(You can taste the salt in your mouth a little too real.)

The chatter up ahead doesn’t bother you, there are not any prying eyes.

You are fourteen again and your worries haven’t taken a form yet. You don’t feel anything in particular at all, there is no zoning out, no daydreaming, no negativity eating you up from the inside.

There are few poppies on the ground and one picked up, offered to you.

A poetry recited but you cannot quite make up the words, the speech has gotten more and more slurred over the past few years.

Still, it is something, you’re only fourteen and unaware it’s a memory you’ll lock away forever.

A high pitched shriek and the boiling water cries out, drowns out the sea.

You are back in your twenties and in Oikawa’s living room.

It is a lived in room, with many memories scattered around, pieces of him and those he cares about.

“Have you ever felt like you were too late to know someone?” your words come out barely a whisper.

“like, you know them, but when you did you didn’t know anything at all. Nothing mattered back then, the end of things was a concept but it wasn’t apparent, not to you.

Perhaps, even if it was, it’d not have mattered because in a way, you were not at the right age for it yet, it was not the right moment. Like those sad romance stories where you meet someone at all the wrong times and there is nothing else to do but watch, and let it sink in.”

The sounds from the kitchen stop but it’s not like you notice.

Your head falls and hands follow. “And now the time has long passed, and you’ll never know that person. And all you can gather instead is all the things you hear from people. Pieces of them, how they see them. It’s just the idea of them, never them.” Even saying it out loud feels ridiculous. Soon, a chuckle finds its way to your lips.

It tastes bitter.

“and god forbid you even ask, because all you’ll hear is what they think would happen. ‘oh they’d love you!’ ‘oh you could do that’ it’s all imaginary scenarios they see fit for you but it’s so- so pointless!”

A strain on your wrist draws out a ‘yelp’ from you almost. For a second it felt like a needle sticking.

You didn’t even hear yourself raising your voice.

The way your hands hang in the air above your head and you realize you’ve been throwing them away for all this time.

With nothing better to do, they comply, fly from one way to another, a desperate attempt to move them in case the words do not come together to form a sentence.

“Then some random shit happens and you’ll hear someone say something you didn’t expect at all and it just- kind of clashes all you’ve known your whole life.” The volume of your voice dropping by the time the words left your lips.

“Like how kids feel when they learn santa isn’t real?” Oikawa’s words reach you, you can picture him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

You just shrug: “Don’t know, I never believed in such things.”

Somehow, the faint gasp you hear from behind makes it all a little better somehow.

“So yea, I guess I am grieving something I’m not even sure existed. All these puzzle pieces modified by people and twice as much missing.”

“Does it sound stupid? To grieve someone that never existed? To miss something you’ve never experienced?”

Not a sound comes.

Then soft steps on the floor and Oikawa finds his way back to the couch, placing two cups of steaming tea down.

“Isn’t that how knowing someone works? It’s still your idea of them that you know and what they’ve chosen to show you.”

You mull it over in your head, you try, you truly do.

And what frustrates you further is that he is right, what he said makes sense. Yet the problem lies in the fact that your brain refuses to allow you to accept that.

“I know not everyone has the chance I did with Iwa-chan,” Oikawa begins as he lies back on the couch, ‘who the fuck is Iwa-chan?’ crosses your mind for a second,

“But that’s how humans work, you know, most of the time it’s a brief moment shared forever, a side to them that you meet.”

Oikawa just sits back, looking awfully relaxed compared to how tense your body is. The steam from the cups rise and twirl, waiting alongside the glass of water, keeping one another company, waiting to be taken back after several hours

“Perhaps no one can know a person, truly. And most of the time, not even the person in question knows themselves.”

His words cut right through you.

In physical, you’re still sitting near Oikawa Tooru. There are few dried tears on your cheeks and your shoulders are starting to hurt. Your eyes sting and your throat itches, claws from the inside.

You’re a little child again, with no idea how the world works.

‘Then be one. What’s the harm in that?’ He says.

And you are certain this time that you didn’t say it out loud.

Has he begun to occupy your mind next?

“I’d say something right now, you’re lucky I forgot my line.”- “Stop that.”

The almost friendly atmosphere from seconds ago shatters.

“Stop what?” Your voice comes out sharp. And tired. It’s only the fire he is igniting again that keeps you going now.

“The whole- acting.” He makes a gesture as he spits out the word. “Like this is some sort of play, or a script to be followed. Stop calculating what to say all the time.”

Like he has any say in this, yet you keep it inside just to not escalate things.

“See? You’re still doing it. Be honest and tell me the last few hours were not the most at ease you’ve felt while talking. Say it isn’t true, that I’m wrong. I dare you.”

Oikawa Tooru is many things and punchable is the most ideal way to describe how he stands before you right now.

“Save it, hypocrite.”

He only replies with a grin. That self satisfied prick.

“You know, I like you better at nights like this.” He begins, and you cannot help but raise an eyebrow at the word like.

“Then I should act more like a practiced doll next time, I don’t need your liking.” You spit out, finally straightening up and resting your back against the soft cushions of the sofa.

“We both know that’s a lie.” His words radiate confidence. Of course they do.

Even if they don’t, he still speaks that way, the perfect actor, the only one mentioning around.

It must be nice to know how to act and talk, walk around and be.

You can feel the weight of unknown burying you inside the couch, like a compressor on your bones until you’re nothing but w flattened out piece of meat.

Like you know how it feels to be so lost, you need someone to tell you to breathe, remind you to blink, to eat, drink…

More than you’d expect.

When do you plan on leaving my head?

You receive no answer to this either.

(The memory of aching arms and hands quickly pass by the eyes.

Hands used, abused, so severely to the point of feeling the pang of pain in tendons surrounding the arms, the pain travels, the sadness spreads, needles prickling the skin and flesh underneath.

No one makes a sound, not a single ask for help is voiced out loud– it is but an option that does not exist, as if it is not allowed.)

Some time passes but it no longer feels like your lungs strangled, no more tears make their appearance either, the curtain for them has been pulled over.

“Okay okay,” Oikawa speaks up while moving a hand up and down, in that awfully familiar manner you can never put a name to, and straightens up.

“Since you are at such a vulnerable state” “…a what now?”

“I’ll compromise and let you something not many get the chance to even imagine their entire lives,” “did I doze off and miss you hitting your head?”

The entire air to him is too loose, he looks too comfortable, and as more and more branches of sudden confusion tug you from every direction Oikawa opens his arms and moves his hands like that of an annoying semi distant relative who asks you to give a hug and doesn’t let go until you’ve suffocated.

“Come now, you can cry to my chest and I’ll even allow you to use my shirt like a napkin of sorts.”

A second passes.

Then another.

You just stare at his face, his eyes closed and that proud expression on his face.

Then a third second passes and he notices the lack of a human presence where he created space at.

Opening one eye to peek at you, he lets out a chuckle. Is your face that mortified?

“A pretty good deal, no?” a sheepish smile follows his words.

“No.” you deadpan but do not get a chance to add anything else.

Strong arms suddenly pulling you forward, you find your face to Oikawa’s chest and try to push away.

Then your struggling arms come to a halt, drawing another chuckle out of him. Or a laughter.

Probably the latter, you assume, from how his chest seems to rumble. “See? I told you it’d work.”

There is no point in trying to break free of the arms that chained you to him. At best, you try to move your body to adjust your position somewhat, this way at least your back won’t hurt further into the night.

Your muffled noises barely reach Oikawa’s ears. “What was that?” he asks, still not allowing enough space for you to breathe, let alone speak.

More muffling and poking at him with closed fists, he gets the hint. “Sorry, my bad.”

It feels, odd, in a way.

In all the times you’ve spent with Oikawa Tooru, not even once you’d expect something like that.

Nevertheless, with the pain from before gone, and though it was not his chest you had cried to, your head feels a little at peace, offering a much needed break.

You can feel yourself breathing in and every pore in your body opening with it.

You can feel Oikawa’s expectant gaze on you, probably waiting to hear what it was you mumbled. You decide, there is no way on earth you’ll ever admit to his face that he smells better than you expected.

Tonight, it doesn’t bother you one bit that you still don’t know what red poppies smell like. The lingering scent of tea in the air doesn’t replace the waves, still, it brings a different kind of quietude into the night.

It bids farewell, the sheep in the clouds sing a lullaby.

Good night, sweet dreams, allow this night to exist, let the little kid to cry, take a break, allow yourself a breath once in a while.

#long live the queue #haikyuu!! #oikawa tooru #gender neutral reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa comfort #haikyuu comfort

[sckyie]

song: streetcar by daniel caesar

word count: 2.6k

genre + warnings: angst to fluff; reminiscing in past heartbreak, breakdowns, timeskips, swearing, someone gets slapped

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: here's part 2 to driver's license,, i hope this was okay >~< i had to include a new song to the mix (its going into the playlist) soooo enjoy :) also my ratio for angst to fluff is TERRIBLE im sorry

Ever since you had confessed your feelings to your best friend, you had became so distant from everyone. Knowing you might've ruined one of the best friendships shook you. Lately you'd been driving around past curfew just to keep your mind off him. Passing all the street lights just felt like you were driving down memories. 

That flickering light at the corner where Oikawa had helped you after crashing your bike into a pole. Or that bright cool light by the park where you, Iwa, and Oikawa first started playing volleyball. Or that one littered with stickers where you told both the boys that they better remember you when they were famous. 

Apathy overcame your entire being. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, who knew heartbreak could have this effect on a person? It was hard going to school, avoiding Oikawa in every hall, dodging Iwaizumi on your way out, and even trying to ignore Kasumi was too much. It hurt like hell but you didn't want to know what Oikawa had to say. More so, you didn't want to hear what he was going to say, you knew what he'd tell you.

Two months until graduation.

It had been a over a month since that confession. The bright girl everyone used to know dulled out. No one knew why nor how it happened. It only stung between you and the boy you knew you could never love. Oikawa and Kasumi remained together despite the lingering thought of those words you said to him. 

"I- You- Ugh! Just go away, I don't want to see you!" The crack in your voice shook those hidden feelings within you.

"Why not!" Oikawa held onto your forearm, restricting you from running away.

"Because I fucking loved you idiot!" You screamed as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Oikawa froze at your words, unable to process them.

"You...loved me?" He asked.

"I still fucking love you! God, I hate you- I just- Let go!" You shoved him away from you. "I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I'm never speaking to you again."

Yet, you never spoke to him regardless. The sudden break between you two effected Iwaizumi as well. Although he had no part in the situation, he was torn who's side to take. He knew your secret but he couldn't betray both his best friends. Seeing you two spilt was like watching glass break. It's sudden, scattered, irreplaceable but if you tried to fix it, you could cut yourself or ruin the glass even more.

Oikawa took your last words as your goodbye. What was worse was that, he couldn't bring himself to find the right words to say to you. How could his best friend love him and never tell him? He never did end up telling Kasumi that he loved her. He began to question his feelings about her and well, you. 

One more month until graduation.

"Hey Y/n, are you going to the third year dance?" Hanamaki taps your shoulder as you doodle on your notes. You shook your head, knowing well enough how you'd have to see Oikawa and Kasumi together. "Come on, we're all going."

"No thanks," You smiled. A sudden ache in your chest hit you as you looked back at your notes. "I don't like dances."

"Liar," Matsukawa joins into the conversation. "What happened to you?"

"Hm?" You looked up, tilting your head at him.

"Just come along, we'll drive," He suggests. "You don't need a date. Just tag along with he boys and Kasumi."

"Again no thanks," You turned him down. "I'm not on good terms with Oikawa right now. I don't want to see him."

"Well, then let's all four go together then. Me, you, Mattsun, and Iwa," Makki says. "We lowkey miss having you around."

"Yeah, come on, we don't have to go with them," Matsukawa agreed.

"Promise we won't hang around them?" You ask solemnly. They nod at you, prompting you to let out a long sigh. "Fine. I don't have a dress, do you guys want to come with to find one?" 

Two weeks until graduation.

You stood in line with the three boys to get inside the ballroom for the dance. You carefully adjusted Matsukawa's corsage that matched your dress. Kasumi and Oikawa had came later, waiting farther back in line. He rests his hand on her waist as he examined the people in line when he spots you. This was the first time in forever since he could see you clearly. He had only caught glimpses of you through the halls, never seeing your face.

Was that the reason the guys didn't want to ride with him? For you? It hit a bit knowing they chose you over him but he knew how you haven't hung out with anyone lately. Always avoiding people, never trying to talk to anyone. 

Inside the ballroom, you and the boys sat together at your assigned table. The songs seemed redundant, leaving you four to occasionally get up to dance. It wasn't until a slow song that caught your attention. You had your head leaning against Iwaizumi's shoulder when you spotted Oikawa and Kasumi walking center stage.

"I'm gonna go outside for some fresh air," You say, standing up. You adjusted your dress before walking away to the outside patio. The muffled sound of the slow song was heard as you rested your arms on the railing. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of the streets nearby. It was hard to drown out the feelings of Oikawa after seeing him with Kasumi. You feel the pain well up, trying your best to resist crying.

You open your eyes as you feel something being placed on your shoulders. "You'll get sick out here," Iwaizumi says, standing beside you. "You're thinking of him aren't you?"

"Can we not talk about him?" You breathed, tears slowly rolling down your face. "I just don't want to think about how bad I fucked up."

"Well," Iwaizumi looked down at the ground. "Will you dance with me?" You turned to see him holding out his hand for you. Taking his offer, Iwa holds you close as the music played. He let you cry in his arms, knowing well enough that you needed this. Having held all your pain behind driving, you couldn't show how much you were in pain. 

"Thank you Iwa," You sniffled into his chest. 

"I'm always here for you," He smiled. "You're like a little sister to me...It pains me to see you all dull and hurt...When Makki asked you to come out with us, I didn't expect you to agree but I'm glad you did." 

"Can I tell you something?" You panted for air through your tears.

Oikawa held Kasumi close, carefully swaying back and forth together. With her head resting on his chest, he was able to see through the patio window. He spots you and Iwaizumi dancing but for some reason it stung in his chest to see that. Why is he hurt? He's with Kasumi and he loves her, right?

Graduation day.

A group of cheers goes around the ceremony as your final day in high school is finally over. You greet your old classmates one more time, saving your close friends for last. For some reason, all the pain you previously carried had faded away. You approach the gate to meet with your friends for the last time before you go off your separate paths. Makki and Mattsun agreed to text you more to keep up with each other.

Iwaizumi had hugged you once last time, telling you to do your best. You smiled for the first time in a while. It was strange but Iwa was glad to see you starting to move on. You and him agreed to update each other on your mental healths and to hang out whenever you'd visit. Then it was the one you dreaded.

Saying goodbye to Oikawa, it'll be the last time you'll see him. You waited patiently for him as he was caught up by some fans and Kasumi. When he did manage to leave the underclassmen, he spotted you waiting. "Hey babe, can you go on ahead? I want to talk to Y/n," He says to his girlfriend. She nods happily, walking by you as she left. 

"Hey," He stops a few feet away from you, scared to step any closer.

"Hi," You said. "I have a few words for you." You let out a small chuckle, leading him to believe it was something good.

"Good or bad?" He laughed.

"Well," You started. "I just wanted to say goodbye for the last time...It was nice being your friend and I know how rough it turned out in the end...I'm sorry for not telling you before how I felt. I just thought I wasn't good enough for you and that you'd fall for someone else. Kasumi is a great girl and you two are amazing together...I really wish you guys the best...I know you'll do outstanding in volleyball like the king you are. You better not forget us when you're famous..Listen, I have to go before I'm late, so this is...it...Goodbye Tooru." You wiped a tear from your cheek, smiling at him. You quickly turned around, disappearing into the city. 

"Wait! Y/n!" He rushes after you, only to get lost in the crowd of third years saying their goodbyes. Oikawa felt tears well up in his eyes as he desperately looked around for you. "You didn't let me say..." He whispered to himself.

A week later, Oikawa and Iwaizumi join each other to lunch at your favorite restaurant. Iwa scrolls on his phone waiting for the food while Oikawa looked at the booth you two would always get. "Hey Iwa-chan?" He asks. "Do you know where Y/n decided to go after graduation?" Iwaizumi stopped scrolling to think back at the third year dance.

"Can I tell you something?" You panted for air through your tears.

"Anything," Iwa replied.

"I'm moving away from Miyagi immediately after graduation," You sniffled. "Remember when we were kids and we said we wanted to live in Tokyo or Kyoto?"

"Y-yeah," He was a little shaken up hearing that you'll be leaving so soon. 

"My uncle just moved to Kyoto and he offer me a room there...and I said yes," You started to trace circles on his back. "It's by that college I wanted to go to and they have good jobs there and-"

"You don't have to explain yourself. You'll do amazing out there," Iwa chuckled. "Just promise you'll visit sometime?" He knew how much you needed to be away from Miyagi. Although it pained him, he knew it was only for the best.

"No," Iwa lied. "I haven't seen her. She hasn't texted in a while.

Three months after graduation.

You got into a cab on your way to your new job at a café. You stared out the window, admiring the new city you live in. Learning to adjust and work around the city was tough. The feeling of calling Kyoto home was strange, knowing that it wasn't. 

Ever since you had said goodbye to Oikawa, things in his life changed. He believed losing you wasn't fair, not knowing where you'd gone always haunted him. He had broken up with Kasumi over the guilt held over his head. Always thinking about you when he was with her wasn't right. With you being gone, his only priority became volleyball. 

You however, had let go of those old feelings you held onto. That last goodbye satisfied you, letting you sleep at night and allowed you to love yourself more. You've grown so much from dull slump you were stuck in for weeks. Though living in a different environment made it feel like you weren't even there.

Oikawa roamed the streets slowly approaching different shops along the sidewalk. He had some free time before the practice match he had, so it wouldn't hurt to explore, right?

That's when it happened.

You closed the door to your cab, turning towards the café's direction. Your eyes lock onto a set of familiar pupils. Frozen in time, the two of you never exchanged a word yet, suddenly a rush of emotions filled you both.

Pain, anger, fear, regret, almost everything you felt in the past came back to you seeing him. Standing before you, the man you once loved. The man you might still love.

You snapped out of your thoughts, walking towards him, stopping a few feet away from him. "Y/n what-" You raised your hand, harshly impacting Oikawa's cheek. His hand flies up to his face, holding the spot you smacked.

"You seriously broke up with Kasumi for me?" You growled. "Y-you're an idiot y'know? She was good to you too! Also ignoring Iwa for volleyball? I told you not to-"

"You kept track of me?" He whispered, a slight smile creeping on his face.

"W-Well obviously! I ask Iwa about you from time to time," You muttered. You looked up to Oikawa and saw him grin down at you.

Before you could say anything else, Oikawa puts his two hands on the sides of your cheeks. He pulls your face close to his, crashing his lips against yours. You tense at the action, gripping his wrists. He doesn't pull away until you settle into the kiss.

Your hands melt away from his wrists and reach for his torso. Your lips moved together in sync, almost as if it were a familiar feeling. He pulls away from you, pressing his forehead against yours. "You never let me say my goodbye," Oikawa snickered. "You said goodbye to me then disappeared without a trace."

"Sorry," You blushed. His hands move to your waist, still holding you close to him.

"I wanted to tell you that..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I love you too. I'm sorry I'm so late in telling you and I'm sorry for being caught up with Kasumi. I didn't know what I was doing and I couldn't talk to you...I fucked up for not seeing how much you- well how much I loved you...I know this is all late and you probably don't want to hear any of this but-"

You tiptoed and kissed his nose, making him stop. "How'd you find out you loved me?" You looked at him curiously.

"I was driving down your street and all the old streets we'd walk through," He started. "It reminded me of you and then I saw that white streetcar. The one that is always parked by the laundromat? It made me realize how much you meant to me."

"Seriously? That old junk car?" You laughed.

"Hey, it reminded me of you okay, just seeing it whenever we hungout and passed it," Oikawa squeezed your hip, making you chuckle at him. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Your laughter ceases as you look up at him. "I had to learn how to drive on the highway on my own, jerk," You brought up.

"Is that a yes?" He smirked.

"...No...Maybe," You squinted your eyes at him. "You owe me ramen."

"Wait how'd you know how I've been these last few months?" Oikawa pulls away from your hold.

"Oh Iwa was the first to know I was moving, I asked him to check on you every now and then. I just wanted to make sure your pretty face doesn't do anything stupid. You did by the way, you did some stupid shit," You grinned. "Hey are you hungry? I can get you something from the café for free." You turned away from him, heading to your job.

"Hey you can't just insult me then leave, come here," He runs after you stopping you a few steps away from work. Oikawa plants a rough kiss on your lips before looking down at you. "The only stupid thing I did was not tell you I loved you sooner."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @d0llpie @elianetsantana @joy-laufeyson @kac-chowsballs

#haikyuu!! #hq #haikyuu x you #hq x you #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa torū #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #oikawa imagine #oikawa angst #hss; sckyie playlist

[milkmateartist]

HEAVENS Black Garden English Translation 【 Shion's Route Pt. 1 】

[ — I do not own Black Garden, HEAVENS, Utapri, or any of the characters. This is a fan translation using a combination of google translate and my own japanese knowledge — ]

// Translated by MilkmateArtist

-------------------------------------------------

▽ You

"There he is ..."

I didn't ask for his name, but I quickly realized it was Simon.

He was leaning against a big tree, sleeping comfortably.

▽ You

"Simon, please wake up."

It hurt me a bit to wake him up so soon, but I shook his shoulders lightly.

▽ Simon

"Hmm……".

His eyes opened slowly.

▽ You

"It's nice to meet you."

▽ Simon

"A stranger ……! !! "

"The moment he recognized me he backed away looking at me with fear in his eyes.

▽ You

"I'm ( ___ ). I received a letter and came here."

▽ Simon

"You are ... a relative of the Lord."

▽ You

"I'm sorry I woke you up. Eric and I were looking for you, you see."

▽ Simon

"I see. I guess it took a while...."

Simon stood up and bowed.

▽ You

"What were you doing at the edge of the garden?"

Spending so much time with Eric, he must worried about me being in an unfindable place.

▽ Simon

"I was looking for a bird ... The blue bird cherished by the Lord has escaped. It's still young, so I'm worried..."

Simon's sad expression suggested he cherished the bird as well.

▽ Simon

"Looking for it exhausted me, so I thought I'd rest."

He must have searched pretty frantically if he had to rest like that.

I wondered what to do.

(A) Wait for its return in the garden

(B) Go back to the mansion for a bit

(C) Look for it together

(A) Wait for it's return in the garden

▽ You

"Let's wait for the little bird to come back to the garden."

I thought it would be better to be near the garden.

A small bird wouldn't have been able to fly that far.

▽ Simon

"Oh, that's a good idea. Would you wait there with me?"

▽ You

"Yes!"

We decided to sit under a tree and wait.

…………. ……………………. ……………………………….

Despite waiting a long time, there was no indication of the little bird's return..

▽ Simon

"It will be too late after dark so ... Let's go find it."

▽ You

"I agree."

I also obeyed Simon, who stood up anxiously.

(B) Go back to the mansion for a bit

▽ You

"Would you like to return to the mansion for a bit?"

He must have been looking for it before I came here. If he couldn't find it then, then it might be unlikely that we would find it now.

▽ You

"I'm sure it will be back soon."

That said, Simon's complexion changed.

▽ Simon

"You're sure……? Even though I'm not... If the Lord were to find out .."

There was a ghastly look on his now pale face.

▽ Simon

"Although, even if it is just a bird in this situation, for me it is irreplaceable."

▽ You

"I'm sorry. It doesn't mean that your intention ..".

▽ Simon

"It's fine. I'll search on my own."

Then he ran into the forest.

▽ You

"Please wait!"

I followed, but I lost sight of Simon. Not only that, I didn't even know how to get back.

I wandered aimlessly until completely all my strength was gone. My life was cut short in that forest.

BAD END

(C) Let's find it together

▽ You

"Let's find it together! Please let me help too."

Seeing Simons depressed expression, I couldn't help but say that.

▽ Simon

"...... Is that alright? That's encouraging. You're a kind one ( ___ ). "

Simon smiled happily.

▽ You

"Well, that's ... That's because you conveyed your feelings to me Simon."

▽ Simon

"I think I'll get along with you. Thank you for your warm consideration."

▽ You

"We'll definitely find it!"

We went back to the garden and looked for Eric, but there was no sight of him.

I wanted to report that Simon was found, but feeling the search for the little bird was the top priority, and we returned to the forest.

▽ You

"What kind of work do you do here in the mansion?"

I thought that having a conversation would make him feel better, so I tried asking a question I was curious about.

▽ Simon

"I take care of the animals that the Lord has brought back from all over the world."

▽ You

"That's pretty sweet. It's probably really hard though."

▽ Simon

"Yeah…… All of them are unique and adorable. If you treat them well they return the favor."

His shining eyes and passionate words conveyed his honest feelings.

▽ Simon

"It was in my care as well. That bird ... However, the door of the cage was broken."

▽ Simon

"I want to find it soon. I'm sure it's trembling from loneliness."

▽ You

"…… But we've come a long way."

A steep slope continued in front of me.

▽ Simon

"This is called Jigokuzaka ... It's that tough of a trail."

▽ You

"Jigokuzaka……. That sounds intense."

▽ Simon

"There is a hill with a good view at the end of the climb. I wonder if the bird would prefer such a high place.."

We looked at each other and made up our minds.

▽ Hugo

"What are you guys doing here?"

▽ You

"Hugo!"

Suddenly, he emerged from the bush behind him. He always seemed to be coming out of nowhere.

▽ Simon

"What a good time.. Will you take us to the top of this slope?"

▽ Hugo

"Oh, that's easy. Well, let's go."

▽ You

"Huh ...! ??"

Just like that, Simon and I were easily carried on both of Hugo's shoulders as he started running on the slope.

▽ You

"Aren't we heavy? I can walk on our own, so please let me down.. "

▽ Hugo

"No problem at all. This is far easier than my usual training."

I wondered what he usually did... I was curious about Hugo's daily life.

▽ Hugo

"More importantly, it would be bad if Simon collapsed. He doesn't have the strength."

We couldn't find the bird after we got to the top. After we were done searching, Hugo took us on his shoulders again and climbed down.

▽ Simon

"Thank you Hugo ... I'm grateful."

▽ Hugo

"Don`t worry. Well, I'm in the middle of patrolling, so I'm gonna head out."

Then Hugo disappeared into the bush again.

▽ Simon

"Next, let's look around the building. I had it in it's cage when we went on walks."

Relying on memory, we searched the area where it might return to.

▽ You

"……! !!"

Suddenly something glazed in front of me.

Looking at where the noise came from, I saw a sword stuck in the wall. Overwhelmed, I fell to my knees.

▽ Keith

"During training ... it slipped from ... my hand. I'm sorry. Are you hurt ...?"

Keith ran up to me while I was on the ground, reaching a hand out. .

▽ You

"I'm okay. A bit surprised but..."

It's scary to think that it would have hit me should the timing have not been a little off.

▽ Simon

"Keith is burdened by his role as guard... Training is necessary. Please forgive him."

▽ You

"Don't worry about it.. Nothing happened after all. More importantly, did you see a bluebird at all, Keith?"

I wanted information on any clues.

▽ Keith

"I have not ... You might find if you... get some bait ...from Eric ..."

▽ You

"That's a good idea!"

We went around the hall to find Eric.

▽ You

"There he is!"

Eric was looking for something in the wine cellar.

▽ Eric

"Ah……! Simon, you found me."

Seeming to be in a hurry, he put the vial he had in his hand in his pocket.

▽ Eric

"I was looking for wine to cook for dinner."

Although I felt something was wrong, the search for the small bird came first.

When we explained the situation, Eric gave us some bread crumbs.

▽ You

"We should definitely be able to find it with this."

▽ Simon

"I hope that will happen. Above all, it must be hungry. If we don't find it soon ..."

We headed out of the mansion again.

When we got out of the front door, we encountered Mika.

▽ Simon

"Mika, what good timing. Would you help me look for a bird?

▽ Mika

"Nope, as much as I would like to. I have to go to deliver letters from here on out."

▽ Simon

"If it's official orders then ... it can't be helped. That's a shame."

▽ Mika

"Jeez, are you really that depressed?!"

▽ Simon

"Your observation skills are keen and are very clever. Without your help I can't manage to motivate myself.

▽ Mika

"I guess that's so but ... That's it! Why don't you ask Virgil? I'm sure he's "free" at this time."

We found Virgil where Mika had told us he should be.

He was humming some song in a relaxed manner.

▽ You

"It's just as Mika said."

▽ Simon

"It seems so.. Virgil is skipping out while on duty."

▽ You

"Um ... I'm sorry to interrupt your break"

▽ Virgil

"Wha! What's that, are you implying I'm slacking off !??"

Surprised at our appearance, he jumped up, corrected his posture.

▽ Simon

"We're looking for a blue bird ..."

▽ Virgil

"That sounds grand! I'll help too! In exchange, can you keep what you saw before a secret?"

▽ Simon

"Okay, I won't tell the Lord. Then, do you have a plan?"

▽ Virgil

"It's darkest under the lamppost. The answer might be closer than we thought?"

Virgil looked outside the mansion while we decided to look inside the mansion.

▽ Simon

"It may have returned to the place it normally is."

With the idea in his head, Simon seemed to be walking with a purpose.

▽ Abel

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Abel called us and we stopped.

▽ You

"We're looking for a little bird that Simon is taking care of."

▽ Abel

"I see. I hope I can find it by dinner. You can't find it when it gets dark. "

▽ Simon

"…………."

To be honest, there was no guarantee that it would be found. Finding a bird that can fly around freely is a difficult task.

Perhaps he felt that, Simon closed his mouth.

▽ Abel

"Simon. ...... Believe, and give strength to your wish."

Abel grabs Simon's shoulder and speaks to inspire him.

▽ Abel

"Feelings surpass everything. Make the impossible possible!

The strong words touched our hearts like a spell.

We stopped in front of a room and opened the door.

Only an empty birdcage was there.

Let's give up already

I will do something

Be speechless

(A) Let's give up already

▽ You

"Let's give up already. It's impossible to find an escaped bird".

It's painful, but sometimes you have to face the reality.

▽ Simon

"No, that's not true……! There is no way I can give up"

His voice changed like he was a different person.

▽ Simon

"What do you know! This sadness, this pain ... "

My shoulders were strongly grasped and violently shaken.

▽ You

"Kya ……! !!"

I couldn't help but lose my balance to the momentum.

I hit my head hard on the desk holding the birdcage and fell to the floor.

A burning pain spread through my head. I couldn't even say a word, and it was pitch black in front of me.

I felt like I heard an eerie laugh in my consciousness.

BAD END

(B) I will do something

▽ ▽ You

I'll do something about it!

Before I noticed, the words had come out.. I didn't want to see Simon's sad face.

▽ Simon

"Really……?"

I didn't have a concrete solution, but if I didn't put my feelings forward then our hopes would be lost.

▽ You

"Yes……. I promise."

▽ Simon

"The power of Kotodama is strong. I wonder if your feelings will cause a miracle to happen."

When he spoke, he gently took my hand and smiled happily.

(C) (Be speechless)

▽ You

"…………."

I had no words.. I was overwhelmed by the hopeless reality.

▽ Simon

"It's only when you lose something that you realize its importance..."

Simon's sadness was immeasurable. The expression of despair was unbearable to see.

▽ You

"I will do whatever I can. So please ..."

I muttered, praying to heaven.

CONTINUE:

Time passed mercilessly, and the night fell.

Waiting for the morning to come, I vowed to search again and went to sleep.

----------------------------------------

Go to Black Garden English Translation Directory here for more routes.

#black garden #heavens black garden #black garden english #black garden english translation #heavens black garden english #heavens black garden english translation #heavens #utapri black garden #heavens shion #shion amakusa

[tokyoghoose]

forgive these bastards ➤ prologue

summary ➣ when detective akaashi comes across a rather complicated case, he is faced with many challenges along the way. In his attempt to solve the murder of a young woman and a string crimes, he must work beside the reader to learn more about the victim. ( detective au )

theme song ➢ im not a good person - pat the bunny, sleep is for the weak - the dreadnoughts, the quittin kind - eleisha eagle, how do you sleep - himalayas, blow my brains out - tikkle me, when i was done dying - dan deacon, stalkers tango - autoheart, youre nobody until somebody wants you dead - saint motel, kitchen fork - john conte, distant past - everything everything, cough cough - everything everything

warnings ➢ mentions of murder and death, description of blood and gore.

announcements!

here it is! the prologue of ftb! :) I'm super excited to start this series! this is a little shorter than i wanted it to be, but I'm still pretty happy with it.

feedback is appreciated and welcome! requests are open!

—————

"Keiji, it's getting dark. Why not come inside for the night?"

The sun was just over the horizon, the moon coming up to replace it. It's bright—the orange and pink colors. The image is burned into young Akaashi's memory when he looks over. He waves at his mother with a nod before passing the volleyball back to his friends and running over. The scrapes on his palm sting and the bruises on his legs hurt a little, but he doesn't mind the sensation. It feels like freedom—even if he doesn't really understand the full meaning of the moon. This is what he imagines it feels like.

Games to be played with friends and laughter. If this is what life holds then he is more than willing to live it. His naivety holds firm when he grabs his mother hand at the door, being pulled into a brisk hug. She laughs and pats his hair and he thinks it's the kindest gesture in the world. He snuggles closer before pulling away to see dinner on the table. His mother locks up, looking quietly into the city with concerned eyes. She wasn't going to let anyone hurt him, the smile that she cherishes wasn't going to fade as long as she could help it. She turns with a smile, passing him a plastic fork before listening to the adventures Akaashi had gone on that day.

Childhood seems so far now.

———

If you were to tell Akaashi's five year old self that seventeen years later everything he thought about freedom and life was a lie and he would become a detective who took away other's freedom, he'd probably laugh and then cry and cry some more. If you were to tell him that his mother would die so he'd have to be raised by his aunt at the age of thirteen, he'd probably punch you in face in attempt to break your nose—and if you then told him that's the reason he became a detective and went through five grueling years of internships and having to learn how to stomach crime scenes in the first place, he'd make sure to add a swift kick to the shin with it. Even at twenty, if someone—anyone—would have told him that he'd never get sleep again because of the things he'd see day to day, eventually becoming desensitized, but still having nightmares that kept him up all hours of the night—well, he'd probably just brush it off because he thought he'd be different.

News flash: he's not different.

In attempt to rub sleep from his eyes (ironic considering he got maybe an hour), Akaashi yawns, triggering a chain reaction from his assistant. The city is bustling with talk of the latest murder—a social media personality. Twitter is blowing up with the hashtags 'rip' and 'always & forever.' Yet, hardly any of the people tweeting and saying things like: 'always in our hearts, never forget,' didn't know her personally. They knew the internet version of her, the side she showed to the world and not the side she was personally. To the world she is known as an idol—a hero to some.

But everyone has their dark secrets.

The car stops along the house's pavement, the driveway a large circle with a statue in the middle. His first thought is someone was in it for the money, maybe a robbery gone wrong. Stepping out the car, he snaps on some gloves and looks around before being handle the case file from an officer on duty, being caught up to speed.

The house is pristine except for the blood that has dried up on the tiled floor. It's a stark contrast from all the white and gold. Minimalist; he notes. Akaashi skims the file before looking at the body and watching it get zipped up into a black bag before being carried away. All that's left is half an outline and some splatter across the floor.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Just what he needs—more nightmare fuel. But a job is a job no matter how tired he is.

"Alright, let's start at the entrances. Check the windows and doors."

———

Red. Why is there so much red? Whose breathing is that? And why is it so loud?

Your eyes finally focus on the hand outstretched in front of you, widening at the sight. A silent scream escapes past your lips and shakes your body, making you stumble backwards. The shaking hand blocks the view, forcing your eyes away from the scene. The thumping of your heart and blood in your eyes is so deafening that it makes you lightheaded. You felt sick. You were going to vomit, pushing down a gag and covering your mouth.

You look at your hands, willing them to stop shaking in tight fists before looking at the body below you. Blonde hair dyed red from the puddle. A sob wracks through you.

Heaving a heavy breath you weren't aware you were holding and gripping your phone tightly, you dial the police. Your voice shakes when speaking:

"H-help, please. She's dead! "

———

Akaashi rubs at his temple in attempt to soothe an oncoming headache, the dim yellow light at his desk straining his eyes. He looks at the file, nibbling on his lip in irritation. The pictures of the scene and the overall file and personal file just swarms his head with mixed up information and he honestly isn't sure where to start. With a soft sigh he leans back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

The case is gruesome, a red massacre. Victim was stabbed six times in the abdominal, close to gutted even, but the blunt truama to her head shows she was dead before hitting floor. The door hadn't been broken in, the wood and hinges still in place like they hadn't been shaken—perhaps she let them in. The window had been forced open from the inside, the paint that previously sealed it being chipped aggressively against the pane. It could've been some loopy stalker, but the more he looks at the case it's less likely.

His head hurts and he can't focus and it's getting late.

He begins to nipple of his thumb nail, bringing it up to his lips in deep thought. The red strings in his brain trying to connect the dots sooner than it's actually possible. He's smart, but not that smart. His eyes slowly shift to the post-it note beside the biege file, a number scribbled down messily. They had sent you home with an officer to calm down from the shock. It had been about two days now as they waited for the autopsies and inspected, but time was running short and he needed your statement before the case runs cold and slips through his fingers. He'd have to interrogate you, ask you to speak on behalf of your friend. It seems you would know the most about her and her true identity as her emergency contact. Maybe‐ hopefully, you'd help provide answers.

But he hates this part. The part where he has to call traumatized homicide victims and witnesses. He doesn't do well at comforting people, especially when he's the type to cut straight to the point. He doesn't know how to stop someone from crying (because someone always does) and he can never stop himself from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He's blunt and yet, he's like a double edged sword. And he knows what they feel because he's been there and he sees it every day, even if he wasn't involved directly. If it haunts him at night, then it must taunt them all day. It's a hard push to get over, and even then the wounds never really heal. Suppose that's why Akaashi keeps pushing to solve cases, even cold ones, because he knows how it feels to be hopeless with a dark mentality. Nothing else matters until the killer is at the mercy of law.

He goes back to gnawing on his abused bottom lip, leaning forward to grab the black office phone before dialing the number. He lets it ring, twice before he hears the line click and a soft, weak 'hello?' He clears his throat, picking up his pen to write down anything he may need. This isn't his first rodeo, afterall.

"Hello, is this l/n y/n? Yes, this is the detective on case. Would you mind coming in to answer a few questions about your friend, Michiko?"

—————

taglist ➣

@izzyphantomgamer @callmeignorance @kenmagi @sawasmura @kagsblueberrymilk

#ive had to rewrite this three times 😔 #tumblr connection sucks #forgive these bastards #akaashi x reader #akaashi oneshot #akaashi imagine #akaashi headcanons #akaashi keiji #hq akaashi #akaashi haikyuu #akaashi keiji imagine #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!! #haikyuu au #haikyuu x reader au #mickie writes

[bbrandy2002]

The Breakfast Club Chapter 8

The Royal Romance AU

Summary: sex and drugs (that pretty much sums it up). This a light hearted chapter before the fireworks of the final two.

Warning: sexual content, drugs and mentions of abuse.

Characters belong to Pixelberry and some dialogue by John Hughes.

Song inspiration:

Drake, Olivia and Maxwell are halted at the corner of a corridor, having returned from Drake's room with pot. Vernon is standing outside of the library and returning to the office directly  across the hall. Even with the guard in the office, he has a direct view of the door.

As the trio scramble to come up with something quickly, Drake has an idea that may be dangerous, but, feels it's worth the risk. He motions for them to follow and leads them to the end of the hall. He opens a supply closet and inspects a large ventilation duct in the ceiling. Olivia stands there with her mouth agape, "Walker, you are fucking crazy if you think I'm getting in that". Drake begins moving a steel ladder in place, "Then share your grand plan with us Liv...I know this palace inside and out, trust me on this".  

Olivia scoffs at him, "Trust you? You've been a jackass and boozing since we arrived this morning".

Olivia and Maxwell look to each for confirmation from the other that this will not end disastrously.

Drake loosens the vent cover and it swings down. He turns to face both and explains there is two more vent covers on the second tier of the library; they will open one, hop on top of the book shelf and climb down. Olivia is still hesitant and feels it is too dangerous, but, Drake and Maxwell are are going regardless. She shakes her head and lets out a heavy breath, "Whatever, let's just get this over with."

Maxwell, being the tallest, climbs in first. Olivia gives Drake a killers stare as she begins her ascent up the ladder. He follows behind her, grabs her legs and boost's her up. Drake then makes his way inside the vent.

He grabs his cell phone and turns the flashlight on, directing Maxwell to keep moving. As Maxwell leads the group, he starts to giggle to himself, "Hey guys, tell me if you've heard this one....Lady Penelope walks into a bar with a poodle in one hand and a two foot salami in the other, bartender says 'well I guess you won't be needing a drink, Lady Penelope says.....OH SHIT!!!!!!...." The ventilation flooring under Maxwell gives way and he crashes through the ceiling, landing hard on the floor below him.

Olivia immediately stops moving and looks down, with concern, through the gaping hole. She discovers Maxwell on the second floor of the library and yells down, "Maxwell, are you okay?"

Maxwell staggered on the floor for a moment, glanced over himself, then nodded, "I think so, but, remind me never to tell a joke about Penelope again".

Olivia assessed her situation, "How the hell am I supposed to get down now?

Drake remained quiet; with Olivia leaning over, he was able to see her ass cheeks hugging through her pink, lacy panties. She turned her head around and noticed his eyes widened and focused under her skirt. She kicked him in the shoulder and he jerked up, hitting his head. With the weight and sudden movements, the floor under them feel in.

Maxwell was able to move before they both crashed to the floor beside him, immediately jumping in to come to their aid.

Both were shaken up and needed a moment to just breathe, but, not seriously injured. Maxwell helped Olivia to her feet, who then bent over punching Drake several times for his inappropriate staring.

He raises his arms to protect himself, "It was an accident".

She screams back at him, "You're such an asshole.."

Drake stands, dusts himself off and limps slightly over to Maxwell, "So, Ahab...Kybo Mein Doobage..."

Maxwell reaches into his pants and pulls out the joints, still in the baggie.

Drake walks to the railing, sits down on the floor and gets his lighter out.

Maxwell looks to Olivia who keeps her focus on Drake. She's apprehensive, wanting to try it too, extremely curious, but, anxious.

Drake lights the joint, take's a hit and relaxes back into the railing. He gives her a questioning look and holds the joint out towards her, "You in, Red?".

With a determined looked, "I'm in".

Maxwell rubs his hands together excitedly, "OooHhh Yyyeeaaahhh...".

*****

Liam takes Riley's hand and begins leading her through the Palace at a quick step.

She laughs at his persistence, "Liam...where are we going? What about...Twat Muffin?".

He chortles, "I have to show you something and there's not a lot of time......also, it was Twat, Waffle".

Still holding her hand, basically pulling her along, they make their way up to the King's chambers and into Liam's bedroom.

Riley takes it all in with amazement, "Don't you think..this..is a little too soon?".

He stops at his dresser and quickly opens the top drawer, pulling out a tiny, blue velvet, ring box.

He opens it up and shows her what's inside. She looks carefully, "It's a pearl".

He has a nervous smile and his breathing becomes heavier, "Riley...". He can barely get his words together, "tomorrow, it will be announced at the ball in honor of my birthday... that I will officially be betrothed to Countess Madeleine...my father is making the agreement as we speak."

She swallows hard and her smile fades, "then...what about...our moment just now?".

He shakes his head and moves her to his bed, both sitting side by side. He takes the pearl out of the box and places it in the middle of her palm, closing her hand around it.

He grips her fisted hand and stares into her eyes, "I don't know what is going to happen tomorrow, I certainly don't want it, but, before my father returns in a few hours, I have to give you something my brother found while we were swimming in Italy last year. I have to give this to someone special and I doubt after tomorrow, I'll get that opportunity. This moment.... it's all I have."

She looks down at her hand. Her mind is racing with so many thoughts...she's with the Prince of Cordonia, he is pouring his heart out to a girl like her, it's all unreal and she never wants it to end. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and a wispy voice, "Then, let's make it special."

Liam takes her to the balcony off of his bedroom. Standing behind her with arms around her waist, he points out his mothers garden and tells her stories of his misspent youth in the maze. They dance to music that only the two of them can hear, a sweet melody that comes from their hearts. As he lifts her into his arms for a twirl, he holds her close, never wanting this new feeling to leave. Liam hasn't been this happy since his mother was alive and doubts he ever will again.

Riley wonders how a girl from the wrong side of town, is here, at this place, experiencing this moment. Two nights ago, she was living with a drunk mother and stepfather....her mother's fifth husband. She had always served as her mothers caretaker; she picked up the pieces when her mother was beaten, cooked dinner each night, cleaned the house, whatever was needed to keep her happy. Each man her mother mindlessly brought into the home was angry, wild, and good for nothing; Riley experienced her fair share of physical abuse and a mother who pretended it didn't exist. Her current stepfather, however, crossed the line and Riley had to leave. Her mother had passed out and he set his sights on her. She fought him off as he gropped and beat her; she had no choice but to run away. Riley always felt like the garbage her home life was. When Constantine called her a whore, it was a word she had been called for as long as she could remember; it never stopped hurting.

Her ruffled skirt swayed with each turn. Her long, brown hair swept with the wind and her smile lit up her entire face. To Liam, she was perfect in every way.

His lips found her neck and gently placed kisses down to her collar bone. She absorbed each one as her hands ran through his hair. Every kiss and touch they shared was slow and methodical. They memorized every single feature and sensation, holding onto what would soon be only a beautiful memory.

Liam caressed her arms and gazed at her with longing, "I've never...you know".

She kissed him softly and smiled, "I haven't either".

His head was spinning as he held her hand and led her to his bed, "are you sure?"

She nodded, "yes".

He didn't know where to start, he could only think about how much he wanted to feel her... to be one with her.

Her hands shook as she reached for the buttons on her shirt, mentally preparing herself, it being her first time too.

He watched in awe as her chest was exposed, sweat already pooling on his forehead.

He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off. She ran her delicate fingers over his muscled chest, as he hesitated briefly before cupping her breast.

They both were breathing heavy with anticipation and nervousness; perhaps, stalling somewhat in removing their bottoms.

Riley inhaled deeply then removed her skirt and panties, blushing as she kicked them aside. Liam ran his hands over her bare flesh, taking every portion of her in.  She swore she was in a dream, his touch took her away and the ecstacy she felt sent chills throughout her body.

She sat on his bed and situated herself back to get into a comfortable spot. He watched with eyes widened, keeping his focus on her, while he removed his pants and underwear.

He moved himself on top of her, careful not to put too much weight down. He leaned in placed a small kiss her nose, "You're so beautiful".

Both of them heaving, she opened herself to him. He reached down and rubbed himself along her opening until she was wet enough.

He slowly inserted himself, only stopping when she winced. She waited a moment, adjusted herself,  before allowing him to continue.

Time stood still as the two shared in the most sacred and loving act of their young lives. It was a mixture of pleasure and senses; a passion, they both elicited in the other. There was a feeling of completeness, that both had always longed for. Every single second was poetry in motion, yet, a bittersweet song.

*******

Laughter fills the air of the library as the trio sit in a circle enjoying their time. Maxwell is blowing smoke rings and eating them, "Chicks, cannot hold der smoke!  That's  what it is!".

An already stoned Olivia takes another hit and coughs, "Like...I'm so popular...I'm the most popular girl in all of Cordonia...like everyone loves me."

Drake watches her with amusement, "Poor baby", he says sarcastically.

Maxwell crawls over to Olivia and falls into her lap. Olivia looks down at his face and starts laughing hysterically, "Max-well, booga booga...SALAMI!!!".

Drake looks down at the joint in his hand, "phew...this is some strong shit".

For the next ten minutes, they go from breakdancing with Maxwell, gazing in admiration at the hole they caused in the ceiling, singing campfire songs with Drake and poking at the mole on the back of Maxwell's neck, swearing they see a face on it.

"Where the hell are our drinks?"

@lovemychoices @gnatbrain @burnsoslow @lodberg @choiceslife @silversparrow02 @stopforamoment @thisperfectmemory @kingliam2019 @moneyfordiamonds @pedudley @emceesynonymroll @romanticatheart-posts @carabeth @dcbbw @ao719 @timothygorgeous @missameliep

*let me know if you want removed from tags.

#choices trr #the royal romance #trr liam #trr fanfic #trr drake #maxwell beaumont #trr #liam x riley #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #liam x mc

[ernmark]

Hello! I hope nano went well for you (however you want to define that) I'm selfishly very glad to have you back. I would love to see something where Juno gets to be the violently protective one and Peter is the one to be rescued. We don't get to see Peter shaken out of his cool very often. ( If this overlaps with an existing AU or a new monster! AU, all the better)

Thank you~

This is pretty much one of my favorite tropes ever, and I don’t tend to write it very often, because it tends to get dark.

On that note, if you’re sensitive to blood, gore, body horror, mind stuffs, etc, maybe skip this one. 

The existing AU it fits into is the Vampire and Werewolf AU, of which you can find the first part here.

If you weren’t expecting that AU to go in this direction, it’s probably because I got hit hard by the flu over the weekend, which resulted in me spending a night with a high fever trying to keep my insides where they belonged while this whole sequence was spinning in my head in an endless feverish loop. 

I think the end result reflects that.

“Again.”

And Juno tried, dammit, he tried. But his skull felt like it was splitting in two all on its own, and reaching into Nureyev’s head felt like sticking his hand in a blender– except that you could only ever do that twice, tops.

This? There was no end to this sick game.

Miasma let out an irritated sigh and reached for the dial.

“No, wait!” Juno cried, dragging himself back in. “Just give me a second. It’s a–”

Miasma wasn’t listening. She turned the dial. Agony hit Nureyev like a sledgehammer– and Juno, still inside his head, felt every shock. He hissed through gritted teeth, the straps around his wrists and ankles straining as his back arched off the table.

And just as quickly as it started, it fell away, leaving them both gasping. Something wet seeped from Juno’s eyes, but he couldn’t tell if it was blood or tears. He couldn’t tell if the agony was in his head or Nureyev’s.

But he was still there, inside Nureyev’s head. In the sudden absence of pain was a moment of numb clarity. Nureyev’s eyes were on the card, even if his mind wasn’t.

“The card,” Miasma said. And maybe the most twisted thing about all of this? She sounded bored.

“Blue diamond,” Juno panted. Already his grasp on Nureyev’s head was slipping, but he clung on.

“Very good. Next.”

Nureyev flipped the next card, and Juno’s stomach lurched. He yanked himself out of the thief’s head. He couldn’t. Goddammit, he couldn’t, he just couldn’t.

Miasma narrowed her eyes at him, and she reached for the dial.

“Red diamond,” Juno said.

It had to be red. Of course it had to be red.

She pulled her hand back. “Next.”

“Goddammit, just give him something to eat already,” Juno said. “It’s been days.”

“Vampires can survive weeks between feeding,” she said carelessly-- as if alive was the same as whole or in tact or sane. “I won’t need him to last that long.” She tipped her head toward the microphone. “Next.”

Juno had no choice.

He went back in.

The moment of clarity had passed, chased away by the pure, sweet red of the card– and in its wake was nothing but hunger. It was overwhelming. All-consuming. The next card was in Nureyev’s hands, but he wasn’t looking at it– his eyes were on the masked assistant in the corner of the room, watching the pulse beat under the skin of xir neck. Nureyev could taste the memory of blood on his parched tongue, could imagine it pouring hot and thick down his throat. Every fiber of his being was driven toward it, honed with animal instinct and inhuman thirst.

He wanted to kill– to rip open that pathetic sack of flesh and take what was his due. He wanted to slaughter every creature in this godforsaken tomb and gorge until he was satisfied.

And if he gave himself half an instant to feel it, Juno wanted it, too. And not just because of the vampire sharing his head.

He was sick of hurting, of being hungry and tired and used– but more than anything, he was pissed. Because Miasma had come into his city. She’d killed his people. She’d tortured his thief. She’d violated his mind.

The ancient, animal part of him– the part that he shared with kingpins and gangsters across the galaxy– wanted to kill her for it. Slowly.

But he was Juno Steel, not just some goddamn werewolf, and he wasn’t going to hand over control to that side of him. He was smarter than that. Smart enough to know that he was strapped to a table and Miasma’s people were packing heat, and even a werewolf couldn’t shrug off a laser to the head. Revenge might be sweet, but it wasn’t worth a damn if he didn’t make it out of this tomb alive.

Look at the card, he mentally pleaded, wishing like hell that this mind-reading thing worked both ways. Come on, Nureyev, look at the fucking card. Please. Please, goddammit, please just look–

Nureyev’s eyes flicked down, and Juno got a glimpse. Just one, but it was all he needed.

“Black triangle,” he gasped. “It’s a fucking– fucking black triangle.”

“Very good.” Miasma couldn’t even be bothered to look up at him. “Next.”

“No.” Fuck, he could barely get the word out. Every time he went in, it got harder. He couldn’t take it anymore. “No more cards. No more games. Not until he eats.”

“No,” she said flatly.

His straps creaked as he threw himself at her. “Goddammit, this is inhumane!”

“I don’t care.”

And of course she didn’t. Why would she? After all, torture and murder and nonconsensual medical experiments didn’t ding her moral compass; why would she give a shit about starving a man to death?

So Juno grabbed onto the only thing she did care about.

“It’s interfering with the experiment,” he said quickly. “He– he’s too hungry to think straight, and if he can’t think then I can’t read his mind, okay? Just let him eat, or let me in there and I’ll open a vein myself.”

“That isn’t going to happen,” she said in that flat, detached way of hers. “If he isn’t useful, then he’ll be disposed of.”  She reached for the console again, not for the dial but for the intercom. “Assistant, get rid of the thief–”

“Goddammit, stop!”

“Then give me the next card, Juno Steel.”

His brain felt like it was trying to claw its way through his skull as he forced himself back into Nureyev’s head. Choked screams were spilling out of his mouth, but he had to keep going. He had to reach just a little farther– just a little–

There: Nureyev’s eyes. His vision was tunneling, their edges going hazy and red. His eyes were fixed straight ahead at the card in his hand.

“Black triangle,” Juno said.

“I said the next card,” Miasma snapped.

“What are you talking about? That was the next card. It’s– it’s not my fault your people did a shitty job shuffling the deck.”

“There are no repeated cards in this deck,” Miasma said.

“Well, then I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe somebody’s been cheating at poker night. I don’t know, but that’s the goddamn card in his hand.”

Miasma narrowed her eyes. “Then draw the next one.”

But Nureyev didn’t reach for another card. The black triangle stayed in his hand, slowly crumpling in his grip. There was no conscious thought left in his head– nothing but the hunger and the all-consuming pain.

“Nureyev?” Juno whispered. He could hear his own voice filtering through the intercom. He could feel Nureyev reacting to his name for just a moment, trying to respond, but there were no words left in his head. “Nureyev, please, just draw a card.”

Nureyev extended his fingers. The card fluttered from his hand.

Juno’s own vision was fading, but he fought against it. He couldn’t black out now, not when Nureyev was like this. He had to stay awake.

“Something’s wrong with him.” Juno tried to grab at Miasma’s arm, but the cuff kept him in place. “This needs to stop. Just give him a break, or give him something to eat, or some water, or–”

Miasma’s finger twisted on the dial. Juno felt every volt that arced through Nureyev’s spine. As soon as Juno stopped screaming, she leaned in close.

“Draw the next card.”

Juno thrashed at his restraints. “Don’t you get it? He can’t! Neither of us can! We need rest, and we need food, and we need–”

Miasma reached for the intercom button again. “Assistant.”

Juno sagged. Finally, she was going to give them a break.

“Assistant, I’ve had enough of this. Kill the thief.”

No.

No no no no no.

Juno could hear the masked assistant stepping toward Nureyev. There was a knife in xir hand.

Nureyev bared his teeth at his attacker, but there was nothing else he could do.

He was going to die.

After all this, Peter Nureyev was going to die.

And suddenly, getting out alive didn’t matter so much anymore.

In his head there was only hunger and hatred and a deep, primordial rage.

You want control? Then fucking take it.

In the vampire’s mind, there were no words.

First there was hunger.

Then the knife.

It was glowing, crackling with its own electricity– meant to stun him, disable him, keep him from fighting back, but he’d fight all the same. He’d never stop fighting (but he was so tired, and so hungry, and so hurt, and he wanted it to stop).

And then there was a sound.

He knew these noises– the wet gurgle of a punctured lung, the choking gasp before a death rattle, the howl of a predator. The song of a hunt, echoing through the chamber and abruptly cut off, but it wasn’t over.

The one with the knife turned away from him. Xe ran to the door, only to be knocked back when a second human crashed through. There was blood on that one’s hands, on her clothes. He could smell it from here, and the vampire’s mouth watered. Together the humans fumbled at the lock, bleating their panic with throats that could not scream.

The door pounded.

Once.

Twice.

The humans bolted like rabbits as the door lurched open. They didn’t get far.

He couldn’t see the blood spilling onto the floor, but he could smell it. He could taste it in the air, sweet and saporous, and it made his mouth water.

Footsteps drew close, each step punctuated by the click of claws on stone. Even without words, he could recognized a werewolf on sight. 

The wolf loomed over him, his bulk hunched forward, his muscles rippling, his whole form cloaked in sleek black fur. His lips pulled back from his fangs in a growl. The vampire flashed his fangs in return– he would rather fight as a predator than die as prey– but only for a moment’s defiance. He was hurt. He was tired. He was so, so hungry.

The wolf reached out to him, and that must have meant something, but the vampire didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was what was dripping from the wolf’s paws, the sweetness of a meal so near his face, the satisfaction as he ran his tongue over one extended claw, and then the next.

It was ambrosia on his lips, utterly irresistible. He didn’t let go of the claw until he’d licked it clean, and only then to take the other and bring it to his mouth.

He didn’t realize until he’d lapped away every last drop that the cuffs around his arms were gone, shredded at his feet.

When he looked closer, he realized that the wolf had changed, too: he was smaller, thinner, more human. When he leaned in, Peter felt no fangs– just full, soft lips, and always, always the taste of blood.

#the penumbra podcast #writing prompt #fanfiction #I love hearing from you Alec #it always makes my day #alecjmarsh