#hurt my own feelings writing this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluegiragi · 1 year

Text

Complicated - Ghost/Soap [FIC]

[AN: I don't usually write fics and this definitely won't become a trend, but I had a major brainworm today and had to get it down on the page.

Relevant content tags: miscommunication, mutual pining, ghost being an idiot, angst angst ANGST IF THIS DOESN'T HURT THEN I DIDN'T DO A GOOD ENOUGH JOB.]

ghostsoap but where simon, hurt by a history of shitty relationships and the residual trauma of watching his father destroy his mother, sabotages his own relationship with soap out of fear, terrified by how strongly he feels for the man.

He ends it just as it's supposed to start.

It's a mistake from the beginning, a culmination of adrenaline running high after a job well done, just the slightest buzz of alcohol and Johnny's voice in his ear the entire night. It has him running hot, running stupid, but all he can think of in the moment is how good it feels to kiss Soap so hard it hurts. They tumble into Soap's room in a mess of limbs and he shoves Soap down onto his bed, gets his mouth on him, his hand on him and the sounds he makes, fuck, the feeling of his hands in his hair as he presses his teeth into the curve of his ass-

it's so good that it's heady, makes him more delirious than a fully stocked bar could and he's stuck in the haze of Johnny, Johnny, Johnny and it's only when he hears how he moan his name ("Si, oh fuck - Simon!) as he cums that he realises-

-he loves him.

the realisation opens up a pit in his stomach. it's like someone just dropped him into an ice bath and suddenly he's seeing this in all it's naked, horrifying glory. how he's in his own sergeant's bed, how Soap is petting at his face, almost sleepily, dazed, sated, smiling at him like he's hung the fucking moon and stars and fuck. Fuck.

Ghost shoots to his feet so fast it's almost comical, methodically striding over to where he discarded his clothes when he stumbled into the room (when he wasn't thinking) to drag on his pants, his shirt, his fucking mask (goddamnit). Soap watches him from the bed, his eyebrows lifted in a half-amused half-confused quirk.

"Where you off to?"

"Back to my room."

"Y'know, most people like to linger after they do the deed. Bask in the afterglow."

Soap stands to cross the room and Ghost almost swears. He can't find his boots.

"You have done this before, right L.T?" Soap says it to tease, but a hint of sincerity creeps in, a tentative olive branch in face of whatever thing he must think Ghost is doing.

"I'm not a blushing virgin if that's what you're asking."

"It's not. I'm asking about your history."

Ghost freezes. The pit in his stomach widens into a black fucking hole.

"...I have one."

Soap whistles. Ghost, having finally caught sight of his remaining boot, yanks it on almost fast enough to tear through the sole.

"That bad huh? What happened?"

"Things got complicated."

"And this - this isn't complicated?" Soap asks with a smile. Ghost stares at him for a moment, as the dawning reality of his situation sinks its claws into him. It is. God, it might just be the most complicated things have ever been for him. Fucking hell.

Ghost turns away, does up his laces and gets to his feet.

"Not yet."

"Yet? What's that supposed to mean?" A hint of defensiveness is starting to creep into Soap's voice. Ghost needs to get out of here before that hint burrows under his skin and convinces him to do something idiotic, like get back into bed with the (still naked) man who he just realised he's in too deep with.

"Nothing. See you topside." is all he says as he takes a step towards the door, and then suddenly Soap is there, blocking his view and his stride with a hand on his chest.

"Simon, what's wrong? You're...something's up." he says, and the clench of his heart at the sound of his concern has Ghost gritting his teeth.

"What, because I don't want to spend the night?"

"The fuck?" Soap laughs out, almost incredulous. "I didn't say that, I j-just -" he stutters, Ghost's mind almost coos and he wants to rip that voice out of his head and suffocate it under a pillow. "What is wrong with you? We fuck once and now I'm chopped liver?"

Johnny stares at him, a crease deepening between his eyebrows, a slight lift to his lips like he's wanting this to be a joke, something in passing, not what he's beginning to understand it is. And the fear, the anger, at Johnny for making him feel this way, for overcomplicating things, at himself for letting him in - it spills out like something poisonous in Ghost's throat, black and putrid and smelling like his father's breath on his worst nights.

Ghost fixes him with a glare.

"Is it really so impossible for you to understand this meant more to you than it did to me, Sergeant?"

He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth but they're out there. Hanging in the air, frozen. Soap stares at him, unmoving.

"...What?" he says in a rasp like in that moment he's giving him a chance to take it back. But Ghost's throat is closed up with something thick and the moment passes and Johnny's expression shutters, eyes blinking, his lips curling up into a wry mirthless grin. He shakes his head at the floor, a hollow laugh jerking out of his chest.

"Alright then," he mutters almost too quiet to hear and then he looks back up at Ghost and the smile falls. "Get out."

"Soap-"

"Get the fuck out."

Ghost is more or less shoved into the corridor and the door slams behind him with a jarring finality. The silence that falls afterwards feels emptier somehow and for a second, he considers going back inside. Knocking at the door, begging Johnny to let him in, apologising, saying it was all a mistake. Saying that he loved him.

But he doesn't. He hasn't got the parts to do this right. He knows that. His father knew it. Every relationship he's ever had knew it, knew there wasn't enough material to build anything in the pit that was Simon Riley. Staying, giving either of them hope, letting this thing fester into something he'd have to watch die one day -

- this was a mercy. Soap would find someone better. He'd understand in the end.

Simon walks back to his room.

Inside, Soap waits until he can't hear Ghost's footsteps anymore before he slides down the length of the door and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. His stupid, burning eyes.

"Stupid," he hisses quietly to himself. "You stupid, fucking idiot."

The next day they're called into a briefing and run into each other in the hall. It's tense. Ghost stares down at the circles under Soap's eyes, how those baby blues widen then flatten into something (colder, his thoughts unhelpfully supply) simpler.

"Sergeant," Ghost says in acknowledgement. Business like always. They've always worked well together. After this passes, after Soap...recovers from whatever shit got into his head that Simon fucking Riley was worth any part of him -

"Lieutenant."

Soap's eyes flick away, forward, and he brushes past him into the briefing room, leaving Ghost standing out in the hallway. 'Lieutenant'. It's his title, there shouldn't be anymore to it. But -

"Let's get ourselves a win yeah, L.T?"

There's something tight in his chest. Ghost clenches his jaw.

When he walks inside the room, Soap is far over on the right side, sitting next to Gaz, chatting animatedly. He doesn't pause when Ghost walks past, doesn't even look as he settles into his seat. Price shoots him a glance from the front. Ghost stares resolutely ahead.

"What the fuck did you do, Simon? Shit in his breakfast?" Price levels an accusatory stare his way once they're alone in his office and instinctively, Ghost bristles. And then the look on Soap's face last night comes back to him, the rasp of his "...What?". That last chance he didn't take.

He deflates, and pours himself a glass of the whiskey sitting on top of his captain's desk.

"I ended something before it could start."

Price's eyes soften, almost imperceptibly.

"Oh, son. You didn't."

"It's for both our sakes," Ghost says with a finality, and downs the glass in one go.

#[insert angel emoji]#simon is so fucked up emotionally #im sorry for hurting both him and johnny in this #not really #but also i do think ghost would be his own worst enemy in this sort of situation #motherfucker would overthink the shit out of a relationship #anyway feel free to continue this if y'all feel like it #my writing frenzy ended where the fic ended and i dont think writing a continuation is in the cards for a while #ghostsoap #fic #angst #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #giragi writes

478 notes · View notes

majorbaby · 10 months

Text

Trapper as the version of Orpheus that successfully made it out of underworld by not looking back at his Eurydice - Hawkeye.

#what if i hurt my own feelings #a fic i won't write #mythological AUs suck most of the time

253 notes · View notes

harrywavycurly · 3 months

Text

I know people write fics about Eddie becoming famous and leaving Hawkins and you behind (I read the sad ones because I love to cry lol) but what if it was reversed? What if you were the one who after Eddie breaks your heart you move away and he doesn’t even know you went on the become a singer until he hears a song on the radio and goes “I know that voice…” as he turns the volume up and its some All Too Well type of song that when the lyrics hit his ears he has to swerve his shitty van to the side if the road because not only is it you singing it’s you singing a song about him. I just feel like he’d be so shocked and instantly want to reach out to you but what could he possibly say? Would you even want to hear from him? Do you have more songs about him? He’d be a fucking mess.

#gotta love morning ideas for fics lol #i just love to hurt my own feelings ya know?#also I’m fully aware Taylor swift isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but like she writes some stuff that Eddie would cry while listening to #especially if they were about him lol #eddie munson concept #Eddie Munson concept #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au #eddie munson angst #Eddie Munson x famous!reader #eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby

85 notes · View notes

general-cyno · 5 months

Text

not to get ahead of myself but thinking abt future opla zolu made me a little emotional bc depending on how many seasons the show manages to get, there's high chances of seeing so many of luffy and zoro's moments. and the thing is - there's a lot of them? their relationship is built upon all these moments and interactions, some small, some big, some when they're not even together but still end up referencing or mirroring one another in some way. it's just so good. I can remember more than few off the top of my head in alabasta, jaya, skypiea, water 7/enies lobby, thriller bark, sabaody etc and that's just pre-timeskip. opla has so much potential to go absolutely bonkers with these two I'm unwell

#!!!!! maybe it's time for a re-watch #zolu #tp #do you ever think abt how hard 'what good is ambition if I can't even save the life of my own captain?' is gonna hit #after luffy's 'I need you zoro' and zoro's vow. the sheer angst of luffy watching zoro almost get killed in sabaody #the possible angst fuel of whiskey peak #the hurt/comfort of water 7. the peak soulmatism behavior in jaya etc #I feel insane just thinking abt it #it all depends on the show's future success and how much they actually invest in the writing #and their particular relationship too but it's like!!!! I think of all these moments and just. they're so important?#I can't really imagine erasing any of them out of the plot bc it's just so integral to both their characters and the crew dynamics #like zolu tends to be considered a more hmmm subtle? kind of ship? in terms of the nuance of their relationship #if that makes any sense #but in a LA TV format it gets more....blatant and nearly unavoidable to acknowledge how crucial it is #I think of opla's main theme playing in the background as zoro makes his vow in ep 6 all the time

96 notes · View notes

raayllum · 9 months

Text

Anyway I wanna talk about hands in Finnegrin’s Wake

This is not my last or even my deepest meta dive on the episode by any means but I’m a bitch who appreciates consistent symbolism and the Hand Motif is on fire this episode so like, let’s talk about it.

The first thing to establish is the (understandable) importance of hands in Callum’s mage arc, given that you draw runes with your hands and hold magical objects, etc. This is in line with primal magic yes

but also with dark magic, highlighted explicitly in S4.

By being tied to primal / Sky magic, Callum’s hands (and ability to use them to help his friends, do magic, etc) is tied to freedom. This is also linked to chains/bondage with Rayla’s wrist binding and dark magic, metaphorically, for Callum. So it makes sense that 5x08, an episode that is very much about primal and dark magic and subsequent themes of freedom vs control is likewise obsessed with this hand motif.

However, I want to talk about Rayla, and Callum, and how the hand motif, dark magic use, and Callum’s connection to the Ocean arcanum are set up this season. Briefly on the last one (that can be a meta on its own I want to dive into, pun intended, in tandem with adding S4′s development to it) because post for another day, but I think it’s worthwhile to mention.

For starters, there’s Finnegrin having a direct callback to Callum’s line from 5x04 with Rayla (which is also being paralleled to Viren and Claudia’s “I’ll do anything” in 5x03 an episode prior). And with Callum’s hand clasped over his wrist, foreshadowing the ‘anything’ he’ll do will be to literally undo his chains (and to metaphorically take some on) in order to save Rayla by the end of the episode.

But we see Callum repeat this “wrist rubbing” motion a few times this episode (pin in it for later) in addition to the repeated emphasis in S5 with Callum always being the one to reach for / take Rayla’s hand. Although she and Callum are undoubtedly in a much better place than they were in S4 in repairing their relationship, Rayla still initiates almost zero contact with him across the course of S4 and S5 (grabbing his elbow and wiping his drool away when he’s asleep in 4x03; placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder in 4x09; resting her head on his shoulder in 5x02; touching his face in 5x08 to provide comfort).

This is a far cry from how touchy-feely she is with him in Arc 1, initiating much more contact than he does, but in S4 and S5 we see this switch around; almost anytime they’re being physically affectionate, Callum is the one initiating.

However, one thing hasn’t changed, and it’s that Callum is almost always the one, across seasons, to initiate handholds (3x01 and the back half of S3 once they’re a couple being the exceptions). And S4 (4x09) and S5 are no exception.

Okay, great, he holds her hand. So what? Well...

In 5x08, Callum does dark magic again outright and connects to the Ocean arcanum primarily out of love for her. As confirmed by the writers on twitter, Callum had to accept exactly what he says in 5x08 about the ocean - that it’s about unfathomable depths, embracing the unknown (even or especially when it scares you) and accepting that there are things you can’t control. And the lack of answers about Rayla’s whereabouts, “I don’t know how to feel about Rayla either,” and “I have to go after him” “I know” helped pave the way for Callum to reach those conclusions in 5x01 and 5x08 alike: “To love is to simply know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep.” And that realization included accepting that he’d done dark magic (and would do dark magic) to protect her.

So it’s not surprising, therefore, that while connecting to the Ocean arcanum, Callum looks at his hand, and rubs the same wrist as before, almost like he’s mimicking the crushing motion he would’ve done with the slug.

Or indeed that it’s a gesture Viren does in his dark magic induced dreams, and during Callum’s arcanum speech, either, if inversed.

Callum is accepting that the depths he can’t see, his “I would do anything for you” promises and inclinations, are a (dark) path he can’t entirely see and understand, but something he knows lives inside him, and has for a long time: “But not everything’s changed.”

Darkness equals dark magic equals chains, and Callum has enough self awareness (that Viren did not) to know more so of what he’s walking into, and that’s precisely why it scares him. Why, by the end of 5x08, even as it’s revealed how he got his chains off, it’s clear they’re not gone. Not really. Not to him. Especially considering now he knows exactly where dark magic leads in ways he didn’t before in 2x07: Aaravos. (“As long as we protect each other, as long as we love each other, you can never control us” and now Callum knows that isn’t necessarily true, because he gave up the info to Finnegrin, and he willingly took another step down a dangerous path.)

Which is why I love that Rayla is the one to reach for him, to gently touch his shoulder and then his face and pull him into a hug. And I love the way Callum hesitates to place his hands - powerful, ‘tainted,’ chained - around her like another link in said chain, so different and yet so similar from their hug in 2x04 about a lack of magic, and now having arguably too much. And all of it - the dark magic use, the metaphorical and literal chains, the devotional key of the Ocean arcanum, the hands - synonymous with his love for Rayla.

#tdp callum #tdp #rayllum #tdp meta #the dragon prince #hand motif #callum #multi #s5 #5x08 #could do a whole thing on elmer and how he thematically connects to the possession plot line but again #meta for another day <3 #analysis series #tdp spoilers #s5 spoilers #analysis #yes i Did hurt my own feelings writing this one thank you for asking #the fact i stayed so on topic for this one is Truly Incredible i think #i would do anything for you

185 notes · View notes

wrathofrats · 3 months

Note

Angst promt 15 with Dew being mean to Phantom/Aeon in the beginning :)) either pure angst or hurt/comfort you choose -🌧️

Part 10293839 of dew doesn’t know how to cope with his trauma.

Warnings for: dew being overly cruel, like he’s really mean to phantom to justify his own trauma. Aether is said to be dead here, Detailed descriptions of dealing with grief, morally wrong thoughts, it’s angst.

No I don’t think dew is bad, this is all based in real grief. He’s not right but he’s not a bad ghoul. I want to make that clear. Dew tries to make it right in the end, this is a lot of him working through his own feelings. I didn’t leave it sad forever.

Sometimes dew feels like the perfect tragedy.

A fairy tale of love and loss that you tell your kids at night to not make them greedy. To teach them to enjoy what they have, to stop complaining.

A fucked up fable of a being forced into a shell that’s not his by a lover he no longer has and truly his own skin feels like his mates mausoleum.

His self hatred falls upon phantom most of the time. A better target than his own flesh and bones in his head. It’s a silent agreement between the ghouls to never mention it, to make sure phantom and dew don’t stay alone together too long but the only verbal concerns come from late night whispers in low lit rooms of the house.

Dew feels unjustified in his hatred, knows it in fact. Can’t rip away the feeling of phantoms existence being wrong. It punches him in the chest everytime he sees him, when he sees his guitar, when he sees him practice his magic. It’s wrong and gross and dew feels disgusted with him, like a cheap puppet of someone he loves.

He wonders if he could make phantom into a bad dog. If he will lash out when scared. Something tangible to justify his hatred. A bite wound to justify his fear. It’s part of the reason he’s so cold to him. His own civil war of wanting to leave the kid alone, knowing he’s done nothing wrong, and wanting to hurt him so phantom can hurt him back. He wants tangible evidence of phantom being cruel to him back so much he could almost taste it. He’s sick, he’s disgusted with himself but dews never been anything but stubborn. A malicious brain worm that will only feed on seeing his own manipulated proof that the kid can be fucking cruel too.

Dew gets worse with his gross brain parasite. Dropping his obsession with aether to instead obsess over being correct and justified in his feelings. Hes lost this much, he can’t stand being wrong on top of it. He has to bite his tongue every time he sees phantom to not immediately try and cause an issue. The common smiling face makes him want to smack it off of him, the sound of Swiss giggling at phantom antics makes him want to scream in rage that he’s not all that special, aether didn’t deserve what happened to get that thing to replace him

The ghouls notice a clear change in him that never leaves. Dew turning from an inconsolable grieving mess into a vengeful creature who they barely can even talk to anymore. All of his words ooze venom, the looks he gives anyone who even go near phantom have them cringing in their own discomfort.

Phantom gets the worst of strange feelings. Summoned into a pack of those receiving the news of the loss of their friend. He feels immediately outcast, though they’ve all worked to remedy the feelings, it still eats at him more than they’ve told him it should. It probably lingers from dews stares but he can’t help but feel as if he was born with the original sin he can scrub his skin of. Maybe if dew accepted him he wouldn’t feel sick everytime he was in a group setting, or maybe it’s truly always going to be like this, phantom doesn’t know.

It’s not his fault he’s curious, the hint of his name having him tune into different conversations using his quintessence to help. He should’ve known better than to use it on dew though.

Mountain approaches dew first about the problem. Phantom watches him finally chase after him to his room after dew came down to grab water, immediately retreating upon seeing phantom sitting on the couch.

Dew what on earth is your problem?

Mountain speaks quietly, barely enough to hear even with his magic

Are we really doing this? You know my fucking problem mountain!

Dew is a bit louder, doesn’t care if anyone hears, it’s a painful thought.

You’re acting like a child. I know what you’re going through but-

You have no idea what I’m going through

He sounds on the verge of tears

You have to learn to accept it. You can’t keep doing this, you’re tearing the pack apart with your shitty attitude

Fuck you, he’s the one tearing us apart, I didn’t do anything

It’s one thing to assume what’s wrong, but for phantom to hear it? The words hurt physically, but he’s unable to stop himself from ignoring the conversation.

Phantom didn’t do anything and you know that

He’s the reason aethers dead. Aethers gone and we got a shitty fucking child to replace him and you expect me to be ok with that?

I’m done. Fix your attitude. Get help. You know you’re wrong.

The tears flow down phantoms face. Bile burns at his throat and he can’t help but look around for someone, anything to comfort him. Maybe he is some shitty child.

Mountain rests his hands on phantoms shoulder to warn him of his presence before sliding next to him and pulling him into his arms.

“Did you hear any of that?” Mountain asks, worried but knowing the answer.

Phantom nods his head

“He’s wrong. Dew will get over himself, don’t listen to him. He’s going through a lot but you’ve done nothing wrong bug”

Phantom tries not to directly sob into mountains shirt, hiccuping and biting his cheek

“If he didn’t mean it, why would he say something like that?” His voice cracks through his tears

“Grief makes people do stupid things. He’s looking for someone to blame so he can take it off of himself. I promise it wasn’t your fault though”

They hold each other, mountain squeezing phantom tight enough to release some of his own feelings.

Dew is a direct contrast to the warm embrace happening downstairs. Sitting alone in his room, barely a thought besides his own internal rage and these days it’s all he really does. Sit and stew in his own self pity, praying that maybe if he hopes hard enough everything will go back to normal, though he knows it won’t. A vicious never ending cycle.

His bed is cold, has been for months. He yearns for someone to save him though is utterly convinced he must deserve this. It must be some kind of punishment for something he’s done. It’s fitting for a monster of his kind, to want something so much but to know you’ll never deserve it.

Phantom was gifted with a different kind of quintessence than aether and omega were, less medical and more thoughtful. He was naturally empathetic, to a fault at times. His magic made him feel things others felt deeply, able to control their emotions with just his finger tips.

He decides to confront dew, a peace offering, an apology, he doesn’t know but he can’t stand the situation. He can’t stand having someone he should care about be practically fading away because of his own hurt he’s never been shown how to deal with properly.

“Can we talk?” Phantom knocks on the cracked door, opening it far enough to see dew sitting on his bed, still staring at the wall.

“Nothing to talk about” dew says nonchalantly

“I’m sorry if I did anything to you” phantom starts

“You’re fine”

“I’m sorry that I annoy you”

“It’s ok” dews tone gets more annoyed everytime he speaks

“I’m sorry about what happened”

“What?” Dew finally turns his head to look at him

“You didn’t deserve that. And I’m sorry no one’s ever tried to help you” phantom practically whispers

“They did try”

“They stopped. You’re still hurting and they stopped. They gave up. And I’m sorry”

“Why do you care? I’ve always been mean to you” dew looks like he may cry himself

“I can’t blame you, it’s not fair what you’ve been through. You’re allowed to grieve in your own way since no one ever showed you how” phantom steps into the room. It smells odd, like dew hasn’t showered in a couple days. Old plates of food and bottles of water stack his bedside table, the other looking pristine and untouched with a book sitting on it. Phantom looks at the book for a couple seconds too long before dew speaks again

“It was his. It’s the last thing he read.” Dew almost smiles, “his nightstand still smells like him”

Phantom doesn’t speak, just nodding along. He doesn’t know what to say, but dew takes the silence as a chance to keep going.

“Sometimes I can smell him on you. Quintessence has a scent to it, it’s smoky and sharp, Swiss gets it too when he’s been using magic.” He chuckles “I know he’s been training you. I wish aether could’ve”

“Really?”

“He would’ve loved you bug”

#oof #one day I need to make a post about what happened to aether #but have this for now #I hurt my own feelings as usual #cw angst #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #wrath writes #dewdrop ghoul #phantom ghoul #angst

55 notes · View notes

athena-theunicorn · 11 months

Text

Link sits on Zelda dragon’s head and talks to her. He doesn’t know if she can hear him or not but he doesn’t care. He rides on her head for entire days and just talks. He keeps her company.

“One of your students sits outside of our house and waits for you. They all miss you at the school.”

“Everyone is wondering where you are. I wish they could see you.”

“You’re beautiful, ya’know? You’re beautiful in whatever form you take.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to Sonia. Maybe when you’re back we can try to find her resting place.”

“I’m sorry I had to take some of you horns. They make good weapons, though. I dunno if it hurts you or not. I promise I’ll make up for it when you’re back.”

“Tulin’s grown since we were there last.”

“Sidon and his fiancé are doing great. They moved Mipha’s statue to the top of Ploymus mountain. She has a beautiful garden now.”

"Riju is just as strong as Urbosa once was."

"I miss our friends badly today."

“Are you lonely up here? Do the other dragons make good company? What do dragons talk about?”

“Thank you for taking care of my sword.”

“I brought you some sundelions. Let me braid your mane.”

"What have you seen since the dawn of the kingdom? Have you seen the other heroes and princesses like us?"

"I hung around the school and played tag with the kids today. They all want to know where you are. Symin and all the kids are doing well. They still haven't found a new teacher."

"Do you remember me?"

"Have you heard the sword in all this time?"

"I helped seven koroks find their friends. They're out of sorts without the Deku Tree."

"See all the new settlements? There are new places and roads popping up all over the place. The people are happier than ever. You did that, ya'know."

"Everyone misses you."

"I found a new grove of silent princesses. I brought you some."

"Do dragons get hungry?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you bellow the castle. I'm sorry all of this happened. It could have been avoided."

"Thank you for leaving me clues to find you. At least I'm not completely alone this time."

"I have to go back to the surface."

"Oh, this is my stop."

"I miss you so much."

"I love you, Zelda. I'll find a way to bring you back."

#I hurt my own feelings with this one #this is why I write angst #legend of zelda #zelink #tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda tears of the kingdom #loz totk #loz #totk #zelda x link #the legend of zelda #loz zelda #zelda tears of the kingdom #link #tloz #tears of the kingdom spoilers #tears of the kingdom headcanons #legend of zelda headcanons

236 notes · View notes

vellichorbindery · 4 months

Text

Cover art by the talented, beautiful creature @evyltalks for my newest wip. My friend got me a commission with Evyl as a Christmas gift and I knew instantly I wanted to see her take on the Black brothers from my fic. I literally cried when I first saw this piece. Evyl, you absolutely blew me away with this, my heart is SO full, THANK YOU!! 🫶🏼💖🖤

This story has been running around in my head since this summer and I’m so ready to share it. I’ll be posting one chapter at a time with 10 chapters total.

The Black brothers are so fucking special to me and this fic is me pouring a bit of my soul & relationship with my older sis into it (she’s my best friend) and the Sirius to my Regulus.

Chapter 1 coming 12/23 ✨

#black brothers fic #regulus black #sirius black #black brothers centric #new wip #angst with a happy ending #so much angst and sadness #there’s also an MCD #I’m sorry #I hurt my own feelings writing chapter one #but I love the epilogue so much

85 notes · View notes

feyreswaterybowels · 2 months

Text

Falling Star🌠

Azriel x Rhys’ Sister

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags/Warnings: Angst. Death. Love Confessions. Friends with benefits to fated mates. Hurt/Comfort. Not Y/N. Third Person. Probably grammatical errors.

Summary: Stella is Rhys’ little sister. Her and Azriel are best friends with benefits on the down low. The bond snapped into place and things didn’t work out the way Stella wished they had.

Stella stood outside the heavy wooden doors of the High Lord's study. They were preparing for battle, the battle against Hybern. Tensions were high and things would either work in their favor or change life completely as they knew it.

Her hand was half raised—ready to knock but she had stopped herself twice, debating if now was the proper time for this conversation. Her heart ached in her chest at the decision she was about to make.

Just come in, little star.

The words echoed in her head. She wasn’t surprised he knew she was standing out there, she and her brother had always been in tune with one another.

She sighed, reaching out to push the door open. Rhysand was already standing to greet her as she walked in. He didn’t bother with a smile or greeting to cover the frown on his face. He could read her better than anyone even without entering her head. All it took was one look at her face and he knew something wasn’t right.

What is it? What’s wrong, Stella?

She fiddled with her hands for a moment, leaning against his desk. Thinking. Trying to find the right words. Decide how much she wanted to give away. If she wanted to tell her brother that she found her mate—that said mate did not want her and she was heartbroken because she had been in love with him for years before the bond snapped into place. That she had wrongfully assumed he felt the same way.

She was wrong about a lot.

“When the war is over,” she started, pausing to choose her words, “I want you to send me…away.”

“Away?” Rhys asks, arms folded, dark brows rising high above his violet eyes.

“Yes.” She nodded. “After the war. Assuming everything goes to plan—works in our favor. I want you to send me away.”

“Why?” He asked, confusion etched all over his face.

“I can’t be…here,” she breathed, the pain in her chest tightening. That string that connected her to her mate pulled taunt as if he was pulling away as hard as he could hoping it would snap in two.

“Why?” It was more of a demand than a question. She knew that tone. He wasn’t going to let her go on a half-assed explanation. He wanted details. A reason. The truth.

She felt her eyes water, it would be easier to just let him in her mind. Show him what was wrong but then he would see too much. See things that might make him hate her fated mate, someone he loved dearly and she couldn’t allow that.

“Azriel’s my mate…” She whispered, unsure if he heard her.

“What?” Fuck, don’t make me say it again.

Her violet eyes met his, brimmed with tears and pleading.

“Azriel’s my mate,” she whispered again, her voice breaking into a sob.

Then she was being scooped into her brother's arms. Wrapped up like she was a little girl again and cradled against his chest. She didn’t know how long they stood there. She heard the faintest click of the door closing but didn’t bother to check if he used his magic or if someone else had done it. But her cries turned into soft sniffles before dying out.

Rhys pulled back, grabbed her face, and wiped away her tears. His eyes met hers, violet searching violet.

“Did he reject it?” He asks, eyes flashing with anger, Stella shakes her head.

“No. He didn’t reject it. But he made it very clear he doesn’t want it either,” she shrugs, sniffing.

“And this is why you wish to leave?” Rhys asks, hands still holding her face as she nodded.

“Where would you go?” He asked, emotions lacing through his voice.

“Tarquin has told me I’m welcome in his court. I haven’t talked to him in some time but I—I think that’s where I could go. If not, maybe Helion would be willing to let me go there…” She trails off. She had thought that far ahead. She could stay in Velaris…but to see him every day? Work with him? Just the thought was painful. Painful enough to make her gasp and clutch at her chest.

Rhys growled, taking a step away and heading for the study’s doors. Stella’s eyes widened and she stumbled reaching for him.

“Where are you going?” She asked, panicked.

“To knock some sense into his stubborn ass,” Rhys had the door half opened before she slammed herself against it to stop him.

“You can’t,” she shook her head. He looked at her skeptically as if to say, yeah he absolutely could do that. But she shook her head again. “Not with this, Rhys. Please. He has to choose or reject it on his own—you can’t make him.”

Rhys hung his head with a sigh. He knew she was right. She was forever grateful for her brother's love, his protection but not with this. It wouldn’t be real if he fought Azriel into the mating bond. She didn’t want that. She wanted it to be real.

She thought what they had was real.

“Don’t hate him, please,” Stella begged. “He’s your brother as much as I’m your sister. You know blood has never mattered. So don’t hate him. But…but when this war is over I need you to let me go. Please, Rhys.”

Rhys looked up, their eyes meeting again and he nodded.

“Okay, sweetheart.”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

That night Stella was in her room. Packing away the last of her things. Her entire life was packed away in boxes and luggage. At this point, she and everyone she loved would die in this war or they would win and she would leave the only home she’d ever known behind. It hurt to think about.

A knock on the door sounded and opened before she could answer whether to come in or not. She wasn’t completely surprised to see Feyre entering, she knew Rhys would tell her, they didn’t keep things from one another.

“So, it’s true? You’re planning on leaving?” Feyre asks, walking over, her dark dress dragging the floor silently as she takes a seat by the open windows. Stella nodded her head in answer.

“I’m sure Rhys told you why,” She said softly, taking a seat next to her.

“He did. I could tell he was upset and demanded to know why, I couldn’t imagine it was anything like this,” She says, a frown tugging at her lips. “Does he know you and Azriel were sleeping together?”

Stella’s eyes burned with tears as she looked away from her friend. Fuck. She shook her head. If she had shared that with Rhys there would have been no stopping him, he would have hunted Azriel down.

“No. I don’t want him to hate his brother,” Stella said, swiping at her cheeks quickly.

“Are you going to tell him you’re leaving?” the High Lady asks, waving a hand for a tray of steaming tea to appear. “Azriel, I mean.”

Stella bit her lip as Feyre handed her a mug. She hadn’t thought about whether she would tell him or not. She didn’t want to just disappear but she didn’t want him to blame himself either.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged with a sigh, letting the steam from the tea waft up into her nostrils. Something floral with a hint of sweet honey. “Would you?”

“I kind of did leave, remember? I mean I was the one who wasn’t sure of the mating bond at first but that time alone helped me…process. So maybe the distance could help? I don’t know,” Feyre frowns before continuing, “Whatever you decide will be the right decision. Don't second-guess yourself. Only you know what’s right for you.”

“I—I thought he loved me,” she admitted softly. “As more than a friend. As more than family. I thought he loved me, he said—”

Stella hiccuped on a cry trying to find it’s way from her mouth, taking a sip of tea and letting it burn its way down her throat.

“He said he wanted me. We shared a bed almost every night. The way he touched me, kissed me, made love to me…was it all a lie?” I cried, my eyes meeting hers, gray-blue pools brimmed with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Was Feyre’s answering whisper, her hand reaching out to rest on Stella’s knee.

The rest of our visit was spent in silence.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Today was the day. Stella braided her hair back, dressed in her leathers adorned with three purple siphons, and strapped her weapons to her body. She looked in the mirror, wings arching behind her. She turned around, the room now so empty, only the corner filled with boxes and luggage was occupied. The shelves and bed were stripped bare, ready for her departure.

The bed she shared with Azriel so many nights. Secret meetings, dinner and fucks. Various nights where he showed up bloody from combat and she patched him up. Drunken nights after too many drinks at Rita—stumbling into this room to undress one another. Or on the occasion one or the other had a nightmare, as they plagued them all, would lead to cuddling until the sunrise.

Stella nearly jumped as a shadow slithered up her thigh. She hadn’t noticed it, only giving her a second before Azriel appeared, dressed in his leathers, all seven blue siphons faintly glowing. She’d always loved those siphons.

“What’s all this?” Is the first thing he asks looking around the room. No hello or greeting of any kind.

She shrugs in answer. Maybe now was as good a time as any to tell him. But would her decision matter enough to distract him in the battle? She couldn’t live with herself if she was the reason he got hurt. “Are you leaving?” He asks.

“After the battle,” she nodded in answer.

“Where?” He asks, with what seems to be a concern—or was the worry?

“I don’t know yet, why do you care?” Stella snapped. Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re leaving because of me.” It’s not a question. She clenched her jaw looking down at the shadow still wrapped around her thigh. “You don’t have to—”

“I can’t be here. I can’t be around you,” She snarled, watching him and his shadows cringe at it. “Do you have any idea how painful it is to see you every day, Azriel?”

A look of guilt and shame passes over his features.

“Because I won’t accept the mating bond?” He says in disbelieving shock.

“Are you kidding me? You know as much about mating bonds as I do. You know how painful it can be. Why are you pretending like we’re any different? I feel you pulling away from it every day and it feels like my heart is being ripped from my chest every time you do,” She said, voice shaking and emotional. She shook her head and blinked away the tears. “After the war, you can reject the bond formally and then I’ll leave.”

They stood there in silence. Staring at one another. His shadow squeezed around her thigh as the rest swirled and whispered around him. She stood tall, batting his shadow away, she would not break down in front of him. Not today, not now.

“I made it clear how I felt from the beginning…” He begins, trailing off and she could swear she heard his shadows hiss as if offended for her.

“Yeah, I know what you said. Just sex,” She rolled her eyes, fists clenching at her sides. “But then everything you did, every action after that said something else. The way you touched me, fucked me, spoke to me all screamed more than sex. But that was my mistake, I guess. So, you have no reason to feel guilty when I leave. It was just sex for you and I—I fell in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for years and I foolishly thought…” She stopped herself.

Azriel stepped forward, opening his mouth but a knock on the door echoed through the empty room.

“We’re all ready,” Feyre’s voice calls.

“Coming,” Stella called back. Her eyes caught Azriel’s before she stepped forward and walked around him.

Are you okay? Feyre asked once she was out of the room.

No. She shook her head, letting Feyre hug her tightly.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

EARLIER

“Az,” Cassian greeted, stepping out onto the training level.

“Morning,” Azriel said from where he was seated on the ledge, overlooking the city below.

Cassian walked over, surveying his brother, leaning against the edge and crossing his arms.

“Everything okay?” He asked, watching the storming shadows slow a bit.

Azriel’s quiet for a minute before sighing, and hung his head. Cassian stayed quiet too, waiting for his brother to say whatever he needed to. It’s a long minute before he lifts his head, looking out over the expanse in Velaris.

“I fucked up,” He confessed.

Cassian’s brow raised as his spine straightened. “How so?”

“Stella’s my mate,” He breathed, the first time he’s said it out loud to anyone.

Cassian let out a low whistle. “And how exactly did you fuck up?”

“I told her I didn’t want it,” He admitted, swallowing thickly, looking over at his brother.

“I thought you two…” Cassian trails off with a vague hand gesture and an eyebrow raise. Azriel shrugs.

“We were sleeping together. But that’s it, that’s all it was,” Azriel explained, but the look Cassian gave him made him cringe away. “We agreed—”

“That girl has been in love with you for years, at least a decade, there’s no way you didn’t know that, Az,” Cassian said, remembering how those two were a couple without actually being a couple. They were more in love than anyone else he’d ever known, or at least he thought they were. “How did she react when the bond snapped?”

“She was excited,” Azriel answered, a thickness taking over his throat. “She made a big dinner. I thought it was just dinner. She kept asking questions, I guess trying to figure out if it snapped for me too, it hadn’t. Not at that time. She eventually just said we were mates, that the bond snapped for her that morning when we were in bed together—during our fucking. She was so happy. And I completely shut her down. Told her I didn’t want it, that we weren’t together, that I didn’t want to be together, and that we needed to figure out what to do about it.”

Cassian's eyes are wide. He wasn’t one to judge but he would never expect that kind of harshness from his brother directed to someone he knew the shadowsinger loved.

“Fuck, Az. That’s rough…” Cassian eventually said. “Fuck. I know that hurt her badly.”

Azriel nodded, dropping his head to his hands.

“Yeah. She cried a lot. Begged me not to leave when I got up to go. I can feel her pain all the time through the bond even with it not being accepted. I can feel her happiness when she sees me before it turns to dread. What we had was good, so good, but what if…what if the bond changes that?” Azriel’s voice broke. “I love her. Of course, I love her. But I don’t know if the bond is right for us.”

“Az, man, you’re overthinking this shit,” Cassian shook his head. “Of course the mating bond is right. The mother doesn’t make mistakes. I know you’ve always felt unworthy of love but man, that girl loves you more than anyone. You deserve love and happiness. You and Stella deserve it, together.”

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Azriel whispersed.

“Just talk to her man. Tell her how you feel. The bond doesn’t have to be accepted right now, maybe tell her you need to think about it not that you don’t want it,” Cassian offered, reaching out to grab his brother's shoulder, squeezing it.

“I—I’ll talk to her before we leave…”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The next time Stella saw Azriel was in the midst of battle. High in the sky. After meetings and marching onto the field were done. It was nothing but fighting after that. It had been a long time. Many soldiers are dead or injured already. More would be too.

Stella knew Rhys and Feyre had something up their sleeve with talk of the Bonecarver. They needed any help they could get. They didn’t have as many men as Hybern.

Little Star? Echoes in her head as she shoved a Hybern warrior away, slashing at him with her sword.

I’m fine. You? Is her answer, plunging straight through his heart.

Me too. Then her head is silent again. Turning her attention to the next warrior to approach her. They came quick enough, when one fell, another was immediately there to take its place.

She looked around, there were many warriors in the sky but it wasn’t hard to spot Azriel. Something felt wrong as she watched Azriel, not with him but with the Hybern warriors around him. She wanted to tug the bond and alert him to something being wrong but that could distract him and put him in a dangerous situation.

Stella slit the throat of the warrior approaching her and shot through the sky before the next one could approach. She had to dodge and swerve around fighting pairs, missing swords and fists landing in all directions.

She was closer to Az, there are fewer warriors around him now. She stopped where she was, with no immediate danger around them, and tugged on the bond. She saw him freeze and tugged again. He whirled around searching for her.

She could see the panic on his face as he scanned the sky for her. He spins around and their eyes meet. She tugged the bond, trying to gauge if he’s okay, something still felt wrong, but he must have understood because he nodded—and for the first time he tugs back.

Her heart leaps in her chest and if she was standing her knees would have gone weak. But something was still wrong. Instead of a warm feeling spreading through her at that tug it was something cold and icy. Worry? No, not worry. Warning.

Their eyes met again, hazel orbs wide and his shadows storming violently. She swore the bond tugging in her chest felt like it was trying to pull her forward. Just as she was about to follow it she stopped.

Azriel’s face is one of pure pain when she fely a force behind her and then everything went numb. She felt a heavy weight in her stomach. She drop her eyes from Azriel’s to her stomach and there sticking from her stomach was…a sword?

Stella’s eyes meet Azriel’s again, a sob tearing from her throat as the sword ripped from her stomach.

“NO!” Azriel’s voice rips through the space and she felt the world around her shake. She felt the warmth spreading over her abdomen and the wetness there when she touched it.

She heard a pained sound behind her but before she could turn to see what happened her wings gave out. She knew she was falling but she couldn’t do anything to stop it. She saw Cassian shove a body off his sword, a panicked-pained look on his face when their eyes met.

Her eyes find Azriel again, flying to her. She tried to reach for him but he was too far away. Then he was gone, nowhere in her sight. She squeezed her eyes shut, and felt the tears leak down her temples. Not like this. I don’t want to go like this.

Stell’s body smashes into something hard and she knew it had to be the ground. Dead. Am I dead? She sobbed and pain radiated from her wound all over her body.

“Sh.” A voice rumbled into her hair and she realized she hadn’t smashed into the ground. She smashed into a body, into Azriel who had her wrapped tightly in his arms, flying faster than she had ever felt.

His shadows wrapped around her tightly as they flew before everything disappeared as he winnowed. She grabbed him tightly, shoving her face against his neck and praying to the Mother to just let her stay in the warmth of his arms a little longer.

Another body quaking shake wracked through her as they landed harshly on the ground.

“Rhysand!”

“Feyre!”

“Thesan!” Azriel’s voice thunders around her. Screaming desperately for someone, anyone to heal her.

Stella heard voices around them but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The sunlight is gone but as she’s laid down she realized they’ve been brought to a tent. She tried to grab Azriel, sobbing for him not to leave her.

Sh, little star we have to heal you. Rhys coos in her head but she can hear the emotion that he tries to cover.

“I need these leathers removed,” An older voice said, Madja. It’s got to be Madja. A pain radiated from her stomach and she sobbed again.

Hands worked to remove her leathers, she opened my eyes. Feyre and Rhys stand above her, unbuckling armor and removing layers to allow Madja to work.

She yanked the bond hard. Azriel. She wanted Azriel. And then he’s there crouching next to her head, hazel eyes wet and pained, a hand stroking through her hair.

“Az…”

“Sh, don’t speak,” He strokes her hair. “I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you.”

Stella felt Madja’s hands on her stomach, the warmth of her magic and it hurt. She screamed over the hushed hurried speaking around her.

And then there’s nothing but black darkness.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

When Stella opened her eyes she was at the river house, curled up in her favorite chair. Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion and nearly sobbed when she realize what this was.

“Hey, little star,” Rhy’s voice echoed around the room before he appears on the couch across from her.

“How bad is it?” She breathes, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Don’t lie, please.”

“It’s bad,” Rhys breathed quietly after a moment. Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. A heavy sigh leaves him. “Madja couldn’t heal you. You aren’t healing on your own. Feyre and I both tried and nothing.”

“Thesan?”

“Madja’s gone to retrieve him but there’s a chance even his power may not heal you,” He said, and she could hear the emotion in his voice.

“Is it faebane?” She asked, chin wobbling, he nodded. “I took the antidote, I don’t understand.”

“Neither do we, we’ve asked Thesan but he doesn’t understand either. No one else has been affected by the faebane,” Rhys explained, eyes flashing to her.

“So…I’m going to die?” Her voice cracked.

“I’m going to do everything in my power to save you—”

“I don’t think you can,” She whisper, holding his gaze. She could see it in his eyes, he knows as much as she doesn’t three powerful healers can’t save her there’s not much hope. “Wake me up, I need to say goodbye to him.”

Rhys looks at her and nodded. He stood and she followed. She couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around him. Hugging him tighter than she ever had before.

“Tell everyone I love them,” she whispered against his shoulder. “I love you, Rhys.”

His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her tight, his body shaking with silent cries. “I love you, Little Star.”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Warmth. That’s the first thing Stella noticed. She was warm and comfortable. She blinked her eyes open with a soft groan. She turned her head and saw Azriel, eyes shut and forehead pressed to his hands clasping hers.

“Hey there,” She whispered, squeezing his hand. Reaching out through the bond relieved when it was open and welcoming. She melted into the cot, not in much pain. She was sure her brother was to thank for that.

Stella looked down over myself, covered in a thin blanket up to her waist, eyes landing on her bandaged abdomen—on the blood-soaked bandage.

“Hey back,” He whispered, keeping a grip on her hand with one of his while the other reached out to stroke her hair. She let herself relax into the touch, nuzzling against his hand.

“Rhys says I’m not healing,” She breathed, voice cracking.

“I know, baby,” Azriel answered softly with a nod. Eyes wet and lips bloody red from being bitten. “Come here.”

He lifted her easily, placing her in his lap and cradling her. She could vaguely feel his shadows curling over her skin, through her hair, trying to comfort her as much as he was.

“I’m gonna die,” She cried, pressing her face to his chest.

Azriel shushed her, continuing to stroke her hair as he rocked them back and forth. “I’m sorry,” he cried, looking down at her. “I was wrong. I was so wrong to tell you I didn’t want the mating bond. It had nothing to do with you, my love. You are the perfect mate. I was trying to deny it, thinking I didn’t deserve the love of such a perfect mate. I’ve been in love with you for years, fighting it as hard as I could. And I was afraid. Afraid I would love you and it wouldn’t be enough. Please, forgive me my love, my mate. Please. I love you.”

His broken sobs were painful. His body was shaking hard. All Stella wanted to do was kiss him. So she did. She grabbed his face, pulled him down, and kissed him. Her lips were dry but she didn’t care.

“I forgive you,” She whispered against his lips. “Reject the bond.”

“What?” He asked, eyes squinted in confusion.

“Reject the bond, it—it will hurt less when I go,” She said, she wanted to save him from that heartache.

“No,” He shakes his. “No, I won’t put you through that pain. I won’t let you die like that.”

“It’s okay, Az—”

“It’s not,” He growled, sobbing when she touched his face. “You’re my mate, I won’t reject it.”

He leaned down to kiss her again, his lips were soft but tasted like blood. The kiss was a mere pressing of lips, she was too weak to fully kiss back.

When Azriel pulled away her eyes stayed closed, breath slow and shallow. He could feel her life slipping from her body. But it’s not when she’s limp in his arms and chest no longer moving that he knows she’s gone. It’s when he feels the emptiness in his chest. When that place in his chest that connects them is no longer there

“No,” he whispered. Shaking his head. Tears falling onto her beautiful pale face. He held her tighter to his chest. “Stella, please. No, please come back to me, baby. Please, come back.”

But her eyes stayed closed. Her chest stayed still. And that space stayed empty. It hurt. It hurt so fucking back.

And all he could do was scream.

#I hurt my own feelings writing this #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar #angst #hurt comfort #love confessions #sadness #heartbreak #imagine Azriel’s scream #absolutely gut wrenching #anyway might write a smutty prequel to this if anyone’s interested 😘

39 notes · View notes